From Someone Noticed
By Dan Meadows
I had a magazine once, for a short time. Some of you may remember it, Pet Companions Magazine. We wrote about all sorts of pet-related issues, both serious and not so. Dog biscuit recipes, books on animal topics, articles about animal welfare issues, and most importantly, a big, two-page list of rescues and shelters of all kinds in this region. I even gave away the back cover, the most prime area of real estate in each issue, to a different rescue or shelter every month. We had money in the bank, issues on the street, and people knew the name. Everywhere I went, I was greeted with smiles and folks would tell me how much they looked forward to the new edition, and how excited they were to do the new crossword puzzle. I liked that part the best, I think. I spent two or three hours each month writing all the clues for that puzzle; people with names like animals, cars named after animals, and best of all, lots of questions about old cartoon character animals. I’ve always wanted to work Foghorn Leghorn into something I’ve done. Well, that’s one life’s dream satisfied, anyway.
But now its gone, sucked away in the great fiscal hurricane of 2008, and all that’s left behind is the rubble of collection notices and former friends. Some days, I don’t even miss it. There’s something oddly compelling in getting up, going to work, putting in your eight hours and heading home to start all over again. No decisions to be made more important than whether or not I need gas, no thoughts required short of what I need to get through. But most days, it kills me.
