Heel the Love: The Sisterhood of Companion Species in '09

Thanks for your patience, dear readers, as we hustled through the Holidaze, MLAlienation, political dramas, and end-of-semester labors in what felt like another photo finish to the new year. I've been especially remiss with my SOTWs as of late, so in the spirit of abundance--perhaps not financially in our recessionista world, but spiritually (to quote the wisdom of mi madre)--allow me to offer a whole album as a salve to our exhaustion, as well as a few additional thoughts on the love of dogs...and cats.

The night before Thanksgiving, surrounded by some of the more amazing ladies I have the pleasure of knowing--Kangagi, CBB, my grandma, and Yes We Kang--the iPod shuffled us into the proto-menses fair soundscape of the 10,000 Maniacs' In My Tribe. For my generation (the tail end of a rainbow-ringed "X"), the album is emblematic of a particularly awkward moment in feminism and lesbian awakening--made manifest sartorially in those t-shirts under the long flowery dresses worn with clunky Doc Marten boots. Nevertheless, Natalie Merchant's saltwater-gargle of a vibrato always encouraged us to indulge whatever fleeting fantasies we may have had about resuscitating a Hippie Chick sisterhood.

From the earnestly dorky attempts at social consciousness and intellectual depth that open the album--the child abuse intervention song, "What's the Matter Here," and the suburban schoolgirl homage to the Beats, "Hey Jack Kerouac"--to the jaunty, yet oddly dark portrait of a white (ethnic) wedding, "Sister Rose" (which brought us to our feet for some rum-fueled swirly dancing), we found ourselves transported back to what can only be called girlhood. Regardless of our age, sexuality, or relationship to gender and even genderfuck, we felt in that moment like a tribe of barefoot, dirtyfaced girls on a scraggly lawn: the true tribe--the true family--named by the album. Maybe it was the Pinay paint-thinner rum we were guzzling with coconut soda (our treehouse special), but we harnessed a special and sweet kind of power that evening: a wide-eyed wisdom we hope to never relinquish. Listen to this and you'll know what I mean...


At the risk of spoiling such a tender outro by going to the dogs, I can't take my leave without a nod to the splendid catharsis of this holiday season's box office smash, Marley and Me. While I know the thought of enduring 2 hours of Aryan heteronormativity with Jennifer Aniston, Owen Wilson and a Labrador retriever just as blonde may sound like a special species of torture to many of you out there, anyone who's ever spent a lifetime with a furry friend (or rather, who's been lucky enough to have a furry friend spend their lifetime with them), won't be able to leave the theater without concealing, beneath cynical hipster hoodies, the tears and gobs of rheum induced by the film's final third.

My reparative advice for the skeptics out there is simply to ignore the humans and just "heel the love." As the longtime companion of a geriatric cat who has offered over a decade and a half of unconditional love to me and all my partners, friends and family, I know every new day and tender "bunt" is truly a gift. I come from what is pretty much a non-reproductive immediate family (I'm the only kid, but have many four-legged "siblings"). Creating a world with our companion species is our own small way of improvising other intimacies and family structures. To quote my mom's new year's day email:

"I know we don't have a lot of money, but I think not having too much helps us understand how to share kindness to whatever creatures come our way. In an unknown way we feel this is our blessing... to share what ever abundance we have..." [Left: Mom with my old gal, Steini]

Today, Mom and Dad just dropped their winter savings on an eye surgery for a feisty 3- week old kitten that made its way into their backyard with a damaged eye [Right: "Li'l One" kickin' it in the Riv]. And it looks like for now, he's doing fine--like I know we all will in 2009. - (KT)

P.S. If you're a pet lover but still too cool for school to watch Team Aniston, check out the haunting indie darling about a hobo hipster and her dog, Wendy and Lucy starring Michelle Williams.