So this weekend I got a new boyfriend. He's a four-legged tub of wrinkles named Higgins H. Anselmo-Sciarretto. He's an English bulldog, brindle/marble coloring and only 11-weeks-old, born on February 16 in Oklahoma. He is the newest love of my life. Adopting him was good for my heart and my soul, as his. Having the added responsibility of caring for him, of considering him with many of my daily decisions has really lifted my spirits and given me a new perspective. He's also a wrinkly, soft pile of love. I spend every day of the weekend with him. I cleared the decks of all my plans this weekend. For him. For us.
He is currently fostering at my dad's, who is housebreaking him and keeping him company while I work on getting the bylaws of the condo that I own changed. I am writing a heartfelt letter, seeking legal counsel and working to make this change happen, for his sake and mine. He is the cutest dog in the world; so cute in fact that my dad even said that he could poop the size of a Rottweiler in the house and he could not get mad at him, simply because he is so cute.
So how does this relate to music? Well besides the fact that I named him after Henry Higgins from My Fair Lady, the professor who helped bring out the lady in Eliza Doolittle, and after Philip H. Anselmo of Pantera fame, Higgins was a little nervous and shaky after I put him in my car to get acquainted for a few outside of the safe, secure world of the breeder from which I acquired him. He was a bit nervous and he didn't sit still, which was understandable, given that his settings, surroundings and familiarity was about to drastically change and I think he sensed it.
I had him in a carrier in my car and he was restless, but quiet. He wouldn't relax or sit still, even though dogs usually love car rides, since the revving of the engine and the motion of the vehicle is often soothing. The one thing that got Higgins to chill the hell out for a few? You guessed it: music. When I put music on – I threw on the radio, since I was too worried about his comfort to put in my iPod adapter and flip through songs- he calmed down. He relaxed. He laid down. He chilled the hell out.
Even for a creature that doesn't use language, music is a communicator. The sounds, the rhythms, the beats. Those were what lulled him and quelled his anxiety during the big move and while I had only put the radio on and was a captive audience, it didn't matter what the sounds coagulated to form, musically and sonically. All that mattered was that it gave Higgins a sense of comfort in a stressful moment.
I don't even remember what the songs were. All I remember was that he was OK. And that is all that mattered.
I was astounded and impressed by the fact that music can affect a living, breathing being that does not have the capacity for language. It's always been said that music knows no barriers and that is the language by which all of us can communicate, but I truly believe that concept was transcended here.
That's all I have to say this week. Short, but super poignant. Something to think about. In the meantime, I'm going to be paging through my Cesar Milan book on raising and rearing puppies.
Now look at the face. How could you not love him? ~ Amy Sciarretto
He is currently fostering at my dad's, who is housebreaking him and keeping him company while I work on getting the bylaws of the condo that I own changed. I am writing a heartfelt letter, seeking legal counsel and working to make this change happen, for his sake and mine. He is the cutest dog in the world; so cute in fact that my dad even said that he could poop the size of a Rottweiler in the house and he could not get mad at him, simply because he is so cute.
So how does this relate to music? Well besides the fact that I named him after Henry Higgins from My Fair Lady, the professor who helped bring out the lady in Eliza Doolittle, and after Philip H. Anselmo of Pantera fame, Higgins was a little nervous and shaky after I put him in my car to get acquainted for a few outside of the safe, secure world of the breeder from which I acquired him. He was a bit nervous and he didn't sit still, which was understandable, given that his settings, surroundings and familiarity was about to drastically change and I think he sensed it.
I had him in a carrier in my car and he was restless, but quiet. He wouldn't relax or sit still, even though dogs usually love car rides, since the revving of the engine and the motion of the vehicle is often soothing. The one thing that got Higgins to chill the hell out for a few? You guessed it: music. When I put music on – I threw on the radio, since I was too worried about his comfort to put in my iPod adapter and flip through songs- he calmed down. He relaxed. He laid down. He chilled the hell out.
Even for a creature that doesn't use language, music is a communicator. The sounds, the rhythms, the beats. Those were what lulled him and quelled his anxiety during the big move and while I had only put the radio on and was a captive audience, it didn't matter what the sounds coagulated to form, musically and sonically. All that mattered was that it gave Higgins a sense of comfort in a stressful moment.
I don't even remember what the songs were. All I remember was that he was OK. And that is all that mattered.
I was astounded and impressed by the fact that music can affect a living, breathing being that does not have the capacity for language. It's always been said that music knows no barriers and that is the language by which all of us can communicate, but I truly believe that concept was transcended here.
That's all I have to say this week. Short, but super poignant. Something to think about. In the meantime, I'm going to be paging through my Cesar Milan book on raising and rearing puppies.
Now look at the face. How could you not love him? ~ Amy Sciarretto
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