FD5: Final Exam- Dogs Can Train Owners, Too

Marlene Nishime

FD5: Final Exam

6, May 2011

 Dogs Can Train Owners, Too

I met my furry best friend when I was seven, at a lovely suburban home with a white picket fence to keep the puppies from straying too far from their mother. My parents had paid notice to all the drawings of dachshunds on my wall with the word “weener dog” handwritten underneath them with crayon. They had made me wait long enough before deciding I was old enough to take on this responsibility. My mother sat me down and made a proposal that consisted of me taking full responsibility of the puppy for the times I was home with it. When I was at school or doing other extra curricular activities, my parents would be my dog sitter substitutes. To a seven year old, all that meant was as long as I play with it and feed it when I was around, I could keep it forever. With that, my first and immediate answer was “yes, I promise I’ll do all those things and I’ll never complain ever again.”

I named our dachshund after my stuffed animal seal, Dixie, who had a long and round body that was held up by its stubby front fins. Dixie was my favorite stuffed animal up until we brought the puppy home. After that, it became a mystery where I left the stuffed animal, for I never thought about it again. The new Dixie in my life was sitting on the concrete patio floor staring at me like she had never seen a child before. My parents gave me the rest of the day to play with her and get her used to her new surroundings. At night she would howl into the wind, calling out for a companion to sleep with, and in the morning, she would release small whimpers when I would have to leave for school. Afternoons were her favorite time of day, because I was home and available to give her attention. My daily routine was to lay on the ground next to her bed in the dining room and do my homework while she jumped around my back and weaved through my limbs, only to fall asleep in an awkward position on an inconvenient part of my body. To me, Dixie was my other half—my equal—and life could never be the same without her.

There was one day where I was left home alone with Dixie due to the cold I had just contracted. Though the nurse said I was sick, I felt completely fine besides my running nose. With my brother safe at school, my mother left me for an important meeting to attend to, and my father had commitments with his boss. Sitting on the floor with Dixie resting in my lap, I waved good-bye to my mom who rushed out the door with her leather suitcase and dangling car keys. I spent most of the day on the floor at Dixie’s eye level. I set up teatime for her, dressing her up in my doll’s clothes to help her fit in with the rest of the tea party. I sipped my orange juice while she lapped the water out of the plastic teacup. Next, we ran back and forth in the back yard, looking for unknown treasures, only to find remnants of her dried feces or dead bugs. When she was too tired to continue, I wiped her muddy paws and carried her to her round dog den, where she slowly drifted off to sleep. I napped beside her so that we could play again when she woke up. About twenty minutes passed until I was ready to play again, but Dixie was still completely knocked out. I wiggled her belly and uncovered her from her blanket to wake her up. Excited to see her eyes open, I grabbed her toy balls and rolled them to her belly. She wasn’t quite as excited as I was about that gesture, and pushed them away from her with her nose. I took this as a sign of playfulness and continued rolling the balls to her, where she would repeatedly push them away. I came closer to her face and this time I tried balancing the ball on top of her head only to pull back suddenly, realizing that she had just nipped at my nose. Offended and scared, I pulled back completely, threw the balls at her, and walked off to the kitchen table. She stared at me for a while before bending her head into the blankets and falling back asleep. I teared up a bit before deciding that I didn’t want to be around Dixie anymore. For the remainder of the day, I sat on the living room couch and watched afternoon cartoons.

I made it a point for the next two days to ignore Dixie, for I learned on Animal Planet that depriving a dog of companionship was the ultimate punishment. Every hour, though, Dixie would waddle up to me with her stubby tail wagging behind her, hoping I would make some sort of eye contact or gesture. To her disappointment, I stubbornly pretended she didn’t exist. Dixie’s new routine consisted of eating, checking on me, going back to her bed and resting, checking up on me again, going to the backyard to poop, coming back to check on me, and so forth. I did not want to give into her glassy, sobbing eyes, but every time she came to me with her wagging tail, it was as if the speed of her tail was slowing down with every hour of check-up. After the end of the second day, I couldn’t resist her sagging face anymore, so I leaned forward from the couch and brushed my fingers through her fur, giving a sigh of relief that she was once again a harmless puppy. She was so excited to be with me that I realized I couldn’t ever ignore her like that again. It was too heartbreaking to see a lonely dog, and it still is.

Dixie is now 14 years old, living with my parents while I'm away in college. Every break I bring my boyfriend back home with me to spend some time with the family, including Dixie. Today, however, I sat in a separate room from my boyfriend, because just a few hours ago, we argued about something insignificant again. It's times like these when I wished I was back home instead of in college. This time, though, instead of trying to teach him the lesson of how arguing with me will result in his loneliness by ignoring his existence, I poured him a glass of orange juice, his favorite drink, and left it on a coaster next to his laptop where he works. Every hour I visited him, offering him a friendly gesture, and seeing if he was ready to talk. Every hour I waited patiently, hoping he would eventually brush his fingers through my hair again. When this moment finally came, I embraced my other half and acknowledged to him that life wouldn’t be the same without each other.

Our Not-So-Distant Future

Marlene Nishime

FD4

2, May 2011

                                                        Our Not-So-Distant Future

When I was in 6^th grade my mother bought me my very first cell phone. It was a Nokia brick phone with a very thick set of buttons and a very small screen. The phone was so bulky I could barely wrap my hands around it, and even when I did, the phone’s weighty thickness created an extra obstacle for stuffing in my jean pockets. My brother and I shared this phone for nearly a year before my mother finally bought my brother his own phone. She realized the pointlessness of having a wireless phone that we could only use when we were together (which was rare). I saved up enough allowance money to purchase a blue and purple phone case that decorated the frame with flowers and iridescent streaks. At the time, 7 dollars for such an accessory was an investment, for it ensured that the phone would not break if I were to accidentally drop it; however, I really just used this as my own personal justification for buying the most fashionable case available. My brother found his own case that uniquely expressed his personal tastes. Together, we both felt extremely privileged to be able to carry around a device of communication that normally would be stuck to a cord and wall. [THESIS] Nine years later, I stand in the middle of the Apple store realizing that no one will ever share the same excitement and gratitude about having a cell phone as I did that year. [THESIS]

Even though cell phones had been around long before I was born, I felt like they were a whole new revolutionary technology while I was in elementary school. All of the other kids boasted about their cell phones, using it as a status booster on the playground. My father, however, made sure this never happened to me, for he was very strict about how I used my phone. He said that I could only use it in emergencies and nothing more. Because I never actually ended up making that many phone calls, I found myself accessorizing every inch of my phone so that I felt as if I were giving it the attention it needed. Texting was a very new feature for us, so of course I couldn’t use that either. It wasn’t in my father’s phone plan, so every text would cost a certain amount of cents per sent and received. It really wasn’t until early high school when I was finally able to use my phone to its full potential.

My mother was the main igniter for the use of cell phones for more than just emergencies. She convinced my father that it would be much more convenient to use it to talk to clients and friends wirelessly rather than waiting to get home to use the telephone. It was 2004, three years since I first received my cell phone, and finally our family was ready to embrace modern technology. Our new Motorola flip phones were smaller that the brick phones, but thicker in size, and the screen was just about the same. The biggest upgrade for us was the fact that it flipped open. What an amazing technology, I thought; to be able to protect the screen and buttons by flipping the phone upright and closing it back down like a shell. I was very excited, even though looking back now it could have easily been mistaken for a child’s toy. Even though I felt like I was a part of the technology saavy scene, I was everything but that. My friends compared phones, explaining how theirs can take photos, but someone else’s can send instant messages. In the end, the winner of them all went to the girl with the Korean phone, which had everything plus more. None of us realized at the time how far ahead of the technology race Asia was compared to us, and I didn’t realize that I was carrying a new phone that was actually 3 years old in the market. Of course, I wouldn’t have been able to tell that one year could make all the difference in the cell phone world. I was completely unaware of how far mobile phones had come along for the short amount of time it had been around.

From the first commercial cellular network (1979) to cell phone fashion (1996), all the way through Bluetooth technology (1998) and into smart phones (2000), cell phones have defined our generation’s needs and wants for better and for worse. Every year cell phone companies raced to redefine the technology again and again, never settling for less. Because of this, consumers’ demands and expectations have risen higher and higher. Throughout high school I found the frequency of cell phone usage to increase so much that there was not one day I went without seeing crowds of teenagers either texting or calling on their cell phones. Sometimes I would even mistake their phones for iPods, with their headphones tucked into their ears, connecting them to a communication device with endless possibilities. Despite all the amazing technologies emerging around me, I was still lagging behind everyone else with my simple phone plan of unlimited calling and text messaging. I never had Internet capabilities, for my phone was barely fast enough to send low quality picture messages. This didn’t bring me down, though. In fact, I was proud of my phone because I knew I could live an everyday life without being completely dependent on it. I liked the feeling of independence and living around myself, not my phone. My mother was happy to know I felt this way, for it meant she wouldn’t have to worry about the expensive phone bills and the thought of me becoming spoiled with what she saw as high-tech and unnecessary gadgets. She had successfully raised me to believe that I should only buy what is absolutely necessary. She believed that all the conveniences and bells and whistles of having a cell phone was not worth the cost. I agreed with her.

When I graduated high school my mother bought me a new cell phone for my college needs. Touch screens had become the new “big thing” in the cellular market, especially with the iPhone 2’s release, and she happened to get a nice deal on our family plan, so I found myself holding a rectangular, rubbery plastic-lined Samsung touch screen phone. It was the very first time I had to touch sensors for buttons and take pictures by rotating the phone landscape-style. I was excited to try something new, but also content that it still had no Internet capabilities. It was a nice upgrade, but still wasn’t suited for the fashion, fun, and endless capabilities that all my friends took for granted. I knew that if I had any more than that, I could consider myself conformed to being glued to my device. My mother, on the other hand, upgraded herself to have Internet capabilities and multiple keypads for her comfort needs. It wasn’t until a year into college when I came home and realized my mother had changed dramatically since I last saw her. Instead of cooking with her laptop filled with recipes on the counter, she would have her cell phone accessing recipes in her pocket. She knew about all the latest viral videos and popular music artists, and didn’t hesitate to show me all the high-quality photos she had taken on random occasions in her life. Her ring tone was a clear song rather than an electronic midi-toned beep, and her email messages beeped constantly with unique alerts to help her tell the difference between a new message and a reoccurring message. Every family member was assigned their own ringtone along with their own photo to help identify the caller faster. She could even use it as a navigation device while on the road. It was the closest thing to an iPhone for her, all she needed left were the downloadable applications; but of course, she felt it was an unnecessary accessory to pay the extra money for.

Most recently, I was able to shop for my own phone, seeing as my touch screen had taken a toll on the years of wear and tear. I ended up buying an older model flip phone new from the factory. It was long and thin, smooth and sleek—just how I like it. It was my first “fun” phone, where its stylish looks complimented its highly customizable software. It still did the same things my touch screen did, but made using my phone a fun activity rather than a necessity. I wasn’t sure if it was the right decision though, so I called my mother to ask for her opinion. What she told me came as a bit of a surprise, but I couldn’t say I didn’t see it coming. The iPhone 4 had released not too long ago, and my mother had purchased it with all the features that it came with, including those applications she once frowned upon. She told me I should invest in one because it was completely necessary to. “What do you use it for?” I asked. “Everything,” she answered. Everything. From phone calls, to text messaging, to emails, GPS, Internet access, and even Facebook updates—my mom could not put her phone down. She told me that now that she’s experienced everything phones have to offer, and that she can’t imagine her life without it. Even the applications were necessary for her, for whatever reason I won’t ever know. Her biggest discovery was the video calls that could be clearly made using the devices. Video calls. So as to say that maybe one day phone calls will become obsolete, and that I needed to jump onto the bandwagon before I get left behind. She wanted me to join her so that we could video chat to each other. “Why don’t you sell your phone to a younger college student, you don’t need that phone, it won’t do much for you,” is what she said to me about the flip phone I had just bought. I was a little offended, but I decided she was only trying to help. With that, I found myself in the midst of a busy and brightly lit Apple store, where followers of the technology mindlessly lined up for the best new product while fiddling with the Apple products they already owned. I looked around and saw children, younger than 5^th grade, tapping on their iPads and tugging on their mothers’ clothes to find out how much longer until the front of the line. The kids looked so grown-up holding those touch screens. I took out my flip phone from my pocket and sent a text message, only to see a little girl gazing up at me. While holding onto her mother’s hand, she pointed at my outdated device and asked, “What is that?” When I told her it was my cell phone, she stared at it with a wide-eyed wonder, as if she had never seen such a tall flip phone before. When the line had died down and everyone had their new iPad2’s, I looked over and saw the little girl fiddling with her mother’s new toy only to set it down minutes later and wander around the mall.  

Log of Completed Activities

_x__ Apr. 7- Intro to Paper #4: Read Guidelines for Paper #4: Literary Journalism

_x__ Apr. 11- Complete readings for paper #4: chap. 15

_x__ Apr. 15- Laulima Discussion #1.

_x__ Apr. 21- Laulima Discussion #2.

_x__ Apr. 29- RD4 due [50 pts] Review the guidelines.

_x__ May 2- Submit three RD4 evaluations. [50 pts] Review the guidelines.

_x__ May 4-9- FD4 due [150 pts] Review the guidelines.