Treating Fake Affection

 

My family's last collie, Feliz.  He hated having his picture taken!

 

We humans tend to crave affection from others.

We tend to seek affirmation from and acceptance by other people.  And the more reciprocal that affection, affirmation, and acceptance becomes for us, the stronger our relationships tend to become.

And strong relationships can be a powerful balm in the midst of all that troubles us.

Unfortunately, developing rewarding human relationships can be a daunting challenge.  Selfishness, neuroses, and personalities usually get in the way.  It doesn't matter the category of relationship, whether professional, familial, romantic, or platonic:  Cultivating a productive, reciprocal partnership with another human being usually defies ease.

Occasionally, we will meet somebody with whom we just "click", and relationship development seems to happen all on its own.  For those of us who've had those types of relationships, we know how rare they are.  How much nicer life would be if we had more of them, right?

Well, maybe this is where the increase in pet ownership comes in.  Because as our American society becomes ever more fragmented, as more people seem to celebrate those things that separate us, human beings may increasingly be turning to pets for the affection, affirmation, and acceptance we used to seek from other humans.

Dog ownership in America, for example, has been growing for years.

City parks designed for dogs have become a huge deal now.  Time was, only doting ladies of a certain age would bring their fluffy pooch into a store or restaurant, but now far more people feel comfortable doing so.  In my college days, I didn't know any fellow students who had a dog or cat.  Responsible pet ownership costs money and time - two things college students tend to lack.  These days, however, judging from all the students living in large college housing complexes near me, many of them own dogs, because most times of the day, they're out walking each other.  

Hey - with some dogs, it can be difficult to tell whether the canine or the human is leading the walk!

Even in my suburban neighborhood, it seems the percentage of dog ownership has increased exponentially recently.  Of course, there have always been neighbors with dogs - shucks, my parents and I used to have a handsome pure-bred collie who loved his daily walks.  However, dog walkers have become an even more ubiquitous presence on our shady streets.

Statistics say cat ownership is growing as well, but here's the thing about cats:  Humans may "own" cats, but how often is it more accurate to say that cats own their humans?  Cats may be affectionate, but dogs seem to be far more affirming and even forgiving of their humans.  Which for many people may make them more rewarding to have around.  One usually doesn't have to work hard at winning the affections of dogs.

But how genuine might that affection be?

Maybe for humans who've conditioned themselves to be satisfied with immediate gratification, it doesn't matter if affection of any kind is genuine.  Or maybe it's just that affection from a dog doesn't need to be genuine - just enjoyable, no matter how existential it may be.  And in the grander schemes of life, maybe it doesn't matter either way.

Last night I had a conversation with a neighbor whose family got their first dog last summer.  As my neighbor has joined the legions of other daily dog walkers, he's noticed that many of them carry around handfuls of doggie treats.  Whenever they see another dog, they eagerly hold out hands full of the treats and give the other dogs an opportunity to nosh on those treats.  

When I used to walk our collie, that never happened.  People simply didn't walk around with doggie treats.  However, I understand why it's become a thing:  It's an easy and superficial way of keeping the dogs quiet as they pass, and establishing what they think is a sustainable, affirmative rapport with the other dog for the next time they encounter each other.  Which, of course, for neighbors, will probably literally be again tomorrow.

And it doesn't take long to condition dogs into expecting any human they encounter will have hand-held treats for them.  I've watched some of the interactions just in the street in front of my house, and can see where some dogs now actually expect and anticipate treats.  As soon as the treats have been passed out, the dogs utterly lose interest in the humans who've just fed them.

Another neighbor of mine further down the block, however, has grown tired of this practice.  He mentioned to me a couple of weeks ago that he wished people wouldn't try to buy his own large dog's affections with handfuls of treats.  Yes, they ask permission before presenting their hand to his dog, but now it's too late.  He has realized what has happened with his own dog.  His dog automatically searches for hands - anybody's hands - because he's been conditioned to expect a tasty treat from it.

His dog no longer relies on natural canine instinct to decipher "friend" from "foe".  His dog no longer rewards natural affection from humans as a sign that they're safe for him to approach.  His dog now simply looks for the treat.  And when he doesn't immediately find any, he turns sullen and disengaged.  

That's like a lot of us humans, actually.  Right?

I'd already noticed that about his dog.  When they first got him, his dog would come up to me and let me pet him and fuss over him - no foodie treats from me at all - and he was content to be rewarded by physical affection.  As I'd chat with my human neighbor, his canine companion would stand next to me, pressing into my legs, letting me pet his furry back.  That was his reward - a type of companionship, which he appeared to even enjoy returning.  But now, the dog comes up to me and instantly - instinctively - searches for my hands with his greedy schnoz.  And since he won't find any doggie treats in them, he reflexively turns away in disgust.  It's sad to experience.  And my neighbor doesn't like it either, but what can he do?  He says almost everybody else in the neighborhood carries treats with them, and he's too mild-mannered to ask them to stop.  It's probably too late now anyway.

I have noticed that my next-door neighbor's pet has also started sniffing my hands when we first approach each other, and when he doesn't find any treats, he's soon trotting away.  That's not how he first treated me when he was a puppy.  His owner, like my other neighbor, has noticed the change, but he doesn't know how to deal with it either.  And frankly, it appears that both dogs still treat their owners with an affection that is stronger than the immediate gratification of hand-held treats.  Which, for them, is a good thing.  And since they're not my dogs, none of this is really any problem of mine.

Nevertheless, I wonder what it says about our society in general.  As loneliness increases in our country, perhaps it's simply one of the coping mechanisms people are creating for themselves.  Exploiting dogs with treats seems a less risky tactic than trying to exploit humans with our far more valuable emotional, financial, and relational assets.  Especially for people like me, who seem to have a difficult time cultivating healthy interpersonal relationships.

After all, when dogs "bite the hand that feeds them", it's mostly a physical pain.  But when humans do it, the pain goes far deeper.

The dogs, meanwhile, seem to treat this new trend in stride!

_____

Woods Drive a Snapshot of Arlington's History

I am a board member of the Heart of Arlington Neighborhood Association in central Arlington, Texas.  I was asked by our board president to write up some information regarding the history of our neighborhood, and this is one of my efforts:

(In the photo: Long-time next-door neighbors Billie Farrar, Eleanor Grace Martin, and James Martin, at Dallas' Meyerson Symphony Center, circa 1990)

Woods Drive Housed a Generation of Arlington's Merchants

Arlington used to have a real downtown that was the growing city’s central business district. 

Those were the days of the local merchant, before Amazon, before Internet retailing, before Walmart, and before shopping malls.  The days of raw entrepreneurship, or what we nostalgically call “mom-and-pop’ and “brick-and-mortar” commerce. 

The merchants who worked in central business districts also tended to live in clusters.  Throughout history, actually, around the world, merchant classes operated economically and socially in relative proximity to each other.  And of all the streets in Arlington that have housed this city’s ever-changing roster of civic leaders - streets like West Abram, West Park Row, South Center, Southwood, Meadow Oaks, and Shady Valley - perhaps none has been home to a larger concentration - economic, educational, cultural - than Woods Drive. 

Woods Drive runs through what was the historic Elm Shadows Farm between Johnson Creek and Center Street.  Elm Shadows Farm was the Moore estate, named after the family which subdivided it during the 1950s, although most people now popularly call it “the Goat House”.  You can’t miss it, since its current owners have maintained their farmstead exemption by perpetually housing goats, geese, and other barnyard animals on what remains a large property. 

Although the street is admired for its tall trees, Woods Drive is technically named for the Moore family’s patriarch, Woods Moore.  Virginia Lane is named for the Moore's matriarch, and Thomas Place, Patrick Drive, and Michael Court after their three sons. 

Originally, Woods Drive ran from a cul-de-sac behind the Moore estate to a dead-end where Mill Creek Drive now intersects.  As Arlington grew, and the Moore's further developed their farm, Woods Drive was extended in the early 1960s to include a connection with Center Street near Pioneer Parkway. 

By today’s standards, the houses may not be opulent, but at the time, they were larger than conventional ones and loaded with features we take for granted today.  Two-car attached garages, sliding-glass patio doors, at least two living areas, and at least two bathrooms were common amenities of these homes. 

If that wasn't enticing enough for you, consider who your neighbors were: 

F.M. "Tiddle" and Hazle-Vern Terry.  They owned Terry Brothers Pharmacy, which was something of a landmark near Arlington’s iconic mineral well.  Their house, built in 1954, is still owned by an heir.  For the record, the very first home to be built in Elm Shadows is on Virginia Lane, and only recently changed ownership to a family outside of the original owner’s heirs. 

Hayden Johnson.  He was related to the Terry’s, and owned an appliance store where the Flying Fish and other restaurants are now located.  A subsequent owner of his house was George S. Wright, while he served as dean of UTA’s architecture school. 

J.C. and Lillie “Bill” Watson, co-owners of an upscale chain of fashionable department stores in Arlington, Hurst, and Grand Prairie.  Their house, designed by Mrs. Watson herself, is still owned by an heir, and their former store on Arlington’s West Main Street, with its wavy Mid-Century Modern awning, is now an office building for UTA.

H.E. and Burney Pearl Caton, owners of both a popular “five-and-dime” retail shop downtown, as well as a company that manufactured decorative clothing ribbon downtown.  One of their customers was Macy’s department store in New York City.  Heirs of theirs still live on Woods Drive. 

James and Eleanor Grace Martin.  James served as a long-time AISD superintendent, during most of the district’s rapid growth, and Martin High School is named in his honor.  Eleanor Grace opened her art space above the store owned by their neighbors, the Caton’s.  She called it “the Upstairs Gallery” for obvious reasons, and kept the name when she relocated to a house on W. Abram St., as the Caton’s store would be demolished for the construction of Arlington’s original Central Public Library.  A Martin heir still lives in the neighborhood, and heirs still run the gallery. 

Happy King.  He was a long-time builder and developer in Arlington.  His company constructed several of the houses in Elm Shadows, and most of what are now called “the Air Force Base streets” clustered around Park Row and Collins Street.  One of his downtown projects, at 300 W. Main St., remains mostly intact. 

William “Bill” and Billie Farrar.  They first owned B & B Supermarket (for Bill and Billie), at the southeast corner of Park Row and Collins St.  Billie eventually went into real estate, becoming a pioneer of the industry in Tarrant County.  She was the first Realtor in Arlington to complete a $1 million sale - a farm where Highway 360 and Sublett Road now intersect.  Heirs still own her office building on Park Row near Cooper Street. 

Catherine Coulter.  Okay, so she never owned a business in Arlington, but she’s our neighborhood’s bona-fide celebrity.  She is a famous novelist and long-time resident of the San Francisco Bay area who spent part of her growing-up years with her family on Woods Drive.  Her father, Charlie, was an aeronautical engineer and her mother, Betty, was a musician who wrote and published her own educational books for piano. 

Lena Hornaday. She owned a popular restaurant, La Tapatia, for 27 years.  Hers was widely reputed to be Arlington’s first and, for a while, only Tex-Mex restaurant.  She retired in 1974, and a Comet Cleaners now occupies the 2-story building at Division and West streets.  Her house is still owned by an heir. 

Dan Burkholder.  He was a noted jazz musician who conducted bands and orchestras for celebrities such as Bob Hope and Dean Martin.  He also taught at UTA, and was a philanthropist to UTA’s music department. 

Howard “Gumpy” Moore.  He was an heir of Arlington’s fabled Moore Funeral Home family, and namesake of Howard Moore City Park off of Davis Drive, in honor of his long-time chairmanship of Arlington’s parks board.  For the record, Moore family heirs also built a house on Patrick Drive, and they were not related to the Moore family which owned the Goat House. 

Judge Bill and Barbara Hughes.  Bill was a lawyer and a widely-respected Tarrant County judge.  Barbara was a longtime public school teacher, and both were prolific philanthropists.  Their house is still owned by an heir. 

James and Bea Horsman.  It wasn’t downtown, but in a strip shopping center at the northwest corner of Park Row and Collins, where the Horsmans owned an upscale childrens clothing store.  After Six Flags Mall opened in 1970, their store began to fade in popularity.  Bea eventually worked for Billie Farrar as one of her agency’s Realtors.  Their address technically was on Michael Court, but their long side yard ran parallel to Woods Drive. 

Dr. Mo-Shing Chen.  Dr. Chen was an internationally-renowned electrical engineer who taught at UTA for over 40 years.  He began several programs in the electrical engineering department that still exist today, helping to give the department its impressive global reputation.  He and his wife, Dr. Flora Chung-Hsia Huang, raised their two daughters on Woods Drive, and both of them are now doctors as well. 

Gene Allen.  He started a popular 3-store Hallmark greeting card chain in Arlington, with locations on Park Row, Randol Mill Road, and Little Road.  His home was designed with a flat roof to give it a West Coast aesthetic.  It is two doors down from another flat-roofed house on Woods Drive, designed by and the personal home of Alvin Mikusek, a local architect. 

And speaking of architecture, it is believed that 2003 Woods Drive was designed by a student of Frank Lloyd Wright's Taliesin West studio in Arizona. As one of America’s most influential architects, Frank Lloyd Wright helped invent and promote the “prairie style” design movement and the long, low ranch style house, which became a favored residential model during the Mid-Century Modern aesthetic, not to mention most of the houses built up and down Woods Drive. 

The first homes on Woods Drive were constructed in 1954, around its northern cul-de-sac.  Ironically, the last home built on Woods Drive, the Watson home, was constructed just up the hill from that cul-de-sac in 1966.  Four years after that, Six Flags Mall opened at Division Street and Highway 360, and Arlington’s downtown would never be the same. 

Leaving Antidepressants Isn't Easy

My crystal Swarovski "Volcano Pyramid" prism with a damaged edge
(the puffy-looking shape in the middle - a significant imperfection)

Last October, I posted about my decision to stop taking my antidepressant prescription medications.

Several months later, I'm checking back with an update to that post.  I don't want to be melodramatic, but I also don't want to minimize the struggles of going without antidepressants.  

The summary version is that I'm not doing as well emotionally as I was when I was still taking my full antidepressant dosages.  The only two benefits I can see are that, one; I haven't yet returned to any of my antidepressants since last fall.  And two, I've lost more weight, and appear to have plateaued in terms of my weight loss.

So, I've lost emotional ground, but I've also lost some physical baggage, meaning my slimmer appearance hides what's going on inside.  I'm also finding that as I lose weight, I'm getting more wrinkled, which is making me look older!  I used to enjoy looking considerably younger than my years, but now, it seems the inverse is happening.  So in terms of aesthetics, my weight loss has become a net neutral. 

Anyway, the bigger story is inwardly, since I'm struggling more with my depression now than I have in decades.

Turns out, in terms of masking my depression and helping me be more productive as a human being, those antidepressants probably were far more effective than I thought they were.  The longer I go without them, the less competent I am at adjusting to negative things and surprises.  And whereas I used to suspect my antidepressants of sabotaging my joy and peace, I now realize that without antidepressants, I have even less of either joy or peace.  I used to scoff at the notion of emotions governing so much of my behavior, but now, I lament how so much of my logic, industriousness, and discipline gets eroded by emotionalism.

I've tried to modify my behavior to accommodate my deteriorating emotions.  My biggest change:  I've stopped most of my news consumption.  American politics, Christian nationalism, the Israel - Hamas war,  all sorts of racism, and hatred in general have taxed me emotionally.  Suddenly, I find I simply can't absorb it all.  My fearfulness factor is sky-high.

While I used to regularly and verbosely blog here about news items and current events, I no longer can stomach even the most cursory glance at the headlines.  I  have an acquaintance who is a professional journalist, and he confirmed that disconnecting from the news is a prudent move for me, at least for now.

As a person who used to seek out the news, especially looking for stories about which I could blog, that has been the biggest change for me.  A dear friend of mine in Dallas used to tease me about "doom-scrolling", since he's long said the news media revels too much in life's horrors and tragedies.  Now I realize how even trolling basic headlines has become a form of "doom-scrolling", since the Internet appears to have forced the journalism industry into competing for the most salacious stories.  News outlets survive today by trying to generate views and click-throughs, because those are how they calculate online advertising rates.  

I reported back in October that I seem to always be on the verge of crying, and that has only become a more pronounced sensation.  Loud and sudden noises also distress me more than ever, while crowds of people - no matter who they are - intimidate me. 

Apparently my antidepressants were my go-to coping tools.  Some things did upset me, but not to the degree they do now.  It has been discouraging for me, as supposedly a "person of faith", to realize that after all these years, I apparently don't trust in the God I've claimed to embrace.  After all, if I did, would I be so incessantly anxious, even as a chronically clinically depressed person?  

Realizing how desperate I was becoming, I reached out to the senior pastor of the Dallas church in whose choir I used to sing, and we've met a few times for some counseling sessions.  Even though our church numbers about six thousand members, we've known each other for quite a while, and I'm grateful he makes time for me.  He's not a therapist, but as a theologian, I'm asking him questions about faith that he's answering with candor and grace.

It's too early to know how much of a help he's been, but even knowing he's willing to try is itself helpful.  I'm not paying him, he knows I'm neither wealthy nor influential, and he's not anti-antidepressants.  He attended my father's memorial service so he knows all about my concerns regarding dementia.  Nevertheless, he warned me I might still have to go back on antidepressants depending on how things evolve.

So obviously, I have no cheerful update here.  No philosophical or theological insights.  No profound one-liners.  This is simply a status update of where I am at this moment, approximately six months after stopping my antidepressants.  People ask me if losing all this weight (85 pounds total since the start of Covid) makes me feel more energetic, but no, I feel even more lethargic than ever.  You see, I haven't lost weight in a healthy way - it's all been through stress.  

There have been a few days where I almost caved and started taking those "happy pills" again, but - for better or worse - the ominous specter of dementia has proven stronger.

Even with my problems, there are other people who are living with griefs and pains far worse than mine.  My pastor calls these "bitter providences" of God, Who, although He is good, certainly allows plenty of bad things to happen to His followers - even through no fault of their own.  

Saying "things could be worse" may not necessarily be a healthy response to anyone's crisis, but it can be helpful to keep some of these considerations in perspective.

So for now, I'm staying the course, away from antidepressants.  I'm finding that this is not the easier path, but perhaps its benefits will come in the long run.

_____