How can dogs tell when we're sad?

The question came up while I was watching last night's Glee, during which I cried. It was sad!

Anyway, Indy got very involved in the tears. He nuzzled me. He licked the tears. He sat in my lap. He curled up in the smallest space next to me possible and put his head on my lap. All puppy talk for "Mama don't cry!"

So how do dogs know that we're sad? They don't cry, so it can't be that they recognize tears as sadness from their own experience. Research seems sparse, but anecdotal evidence is clear...dogs can feel your emotions. Indy definitely knows when I'm sad or angry (especially if he's done whatever I'm angry about) and is a good mimic when I'm excited or happy. And there's no doubt he knows when I'm in pain - he'll even put his head on the parts that hurt. Scientists say that dogs can't sense secondary emotions (anything past rage/aggression or other basic emotions) because they don't have them themselves, but dog owners will tell you otherwise. Usually loudly.

Finals Week Meltdown

Usually I'm very good under pressure, especially in immediate emergency situations. I'm the person you want around when a window falls in on your employees (totally happened) - I am always calm, quick and decisive in those situations.

I'd kill for a falling window.

I am utterly swamped by paper writing and just had my first official finals week meltdown. I'm currently functioning on just shy of 2 hours of sleep. I sat down to work and realized the enormous amount of writing in front of me and the very small window of time I have to do it in. I lost it.

Thankfully, Kyle wasn't in court that moment and talked me off the figurative ledge. He assured me that I could get it done, that it will not keep my from grad school, that undergrad professors are not as detailed as I think they are, etc. He gave what I usually give others in this situation - clear direction and a calm, confident tone. I can't take his direction exactly because of variables he didn't know about, but I feel better. I'm going to jump in the shower and get dressed, then finish the stuff I absolutely have to do here, gather my materials and head to school. I can work from the library and prep for my last test (at 1), which is thankfully mostly studied for.

Cross your fingers. I might be able to finish this.

Visiting the Mosque

Today, my Golden Age of Islam class met at the Islamic Center of Long Island. Of course, I wore Eva Khurshid. Black dress, black tights, red shoes and red and black head scarf (women are asked to cover their hair in the Center and Mosque). We met with a lady from the community and discussed several issues, the first being Osama bin Laden. She spoke of how relieved the community was. In her words, he "hijacked [her] religion" and put a terrible face on their religion and culture.

One thing she said that really struck me was her saying how the US has changed in the 30 years she's been here. She said the country has become less tolerant and that she used to be able to say she was proud to be an American...that's not the case anymore. It was sad to hear.

Another thing we talked about as a group was the way people are celebrating the news of Osama bin Laden's death. We talked about the joyous celebrations happening around the country and how they mostly consisted of young people who grew up being taught that bin Laden was the worst kind of villain the way we were taught about Hitler. It was an interesting conversation.

The mosque itself is simple, bare and rather striking. The back section of the room can be sectioned off for those women who want to place themselves behind a screen (which is a point of contention in the community) while allowing those who want to see the imam to do so. Lessons were being held as some students were studying the Quran and other learning Arabic. There are no chairs, of course.

Overall it was a very enjoyable visit. The woman, whose name I fail to remember, spoke about how she is from India and it's part of the reason she doesn't cover her hair - it's not culturally common. She covers when she's in the mosque or community center but not in the world. She was really lovely and it was a great conversation.

Osama bin Laden is Dead

Kind of hard to imagine I'm typing those words. As I read the live blogs and the NY Times articles about it last night and heard the President's words, I could not believe that after 10 years, we can finally say those words.

Osama bin Laden is dead.

I felt relief, of course. Andrew Sullivan, who was live blogging the progression of events, included a pretty shocking video of the towers falling, to remind people of why this matters, of what this man did to our country. I watched the video and was moved by it all over again.

Osama bin Laden is dead.

I'm not one of those who is overjoyed by it. I would have preferred him to be tried and found guilty, not just for the attacked on September 11, but also for the attacks around the world that were orchestrated and carried out under his orders. I would like him to be tried by sharia law, the only law he and his followers recognize. Standing in a square in Saudi Arabia with an executioner at his side, while a judge asks his gather victims if they can forgive the man. If any of them can not, he is executed and buried in an unmarked grave, per Islamic tradition. That is how I wanted Osama bin Laden to die. But he didn't.

He was killed in a carefully planned and executed mission by the US. A beautifully handled mission that shows both dedicated and discretion (not our greatest pairing of skills as of late). The goal was to take him alive, but there was no way that was going to happen. A man like Osama bin Laden doesn't live in the culture he does and do the things he had done only to be taken away quietly. Of course he fought. Even if he had been captured, he would have tried to escape again and again. His followers might have chosen to kidnap Americans in retaliation or struck out in attempts to get him back.

So last night a breathed a sigh of relief and shed some tears for all those who have died in the process. And this morning, I woke up thinking...

Now what?

Nature Does Her Thing

"You've never seen it miss this house, and miss that house, and come after you!" - Jo from Twister

I've been watching the tornadoes hitting the south with an understanding of what they're going through though certainly not the scale. I remember very clearly dealing with tornadoes while living in Oklahoma, especially the one in 1999 that restructured OKC as we know it.

What's been interesting to me is listening to NPR's coverage here in NY. NY isn't used to tornadoes and had an apoplectic fit when a tiny little one hit Brooklyn. What seems to amaze people is the random nature of it. With hurricanes, an entire area is devastated. But tornadoes hit one house and skip another and it's entirely random. One house will have wind damage, another will be gone. The NY commentators seem especially devastated by this.

I've lived through earthquakes, tornadoes, monsoons and a blizzard. Of all of them, I think the uncertainty of the tornado is the hardest to grasp, though there's a sense of calm around it. You can literally sit outside and watch it coming, as long as you duck into an interior closet or cellar before it gets to you. You can't see an earthquake coming, but they're over quickly. Hurricanes are tracked and can be prepared for. Blizzards usually have indicators. And you kinda know when a tornado is coming - you can feel it in the air. The sky turns green and gets calm. There's not usually rain. Then a black funnel drops out the sky or comes along the horizon. If it doesn't drop on you, it's kinda awesome in the sheer power of it. But it's like watching through glass until it gets close. It's so hard to believe. But that's nature, in all her beautiful and destructive glory.

More School....Almost To Summer!

My third calculus test has been conquered. I feel pretty good about this one, though I have long learned that my personal feelings regarding a test has no bearing at all on the grade. I spoke with my professor afterwards and he outlined how to prepare for the final. I'm doing my best to take his advice.

Brain and Behavior continues to be interesting. We're going quickly through the last of the topics since we lost several days to snow and we're behind. Today we discussed learning and memory which are fascinating from the biological psychology aspect. Like a lot of this field, a great deal of our knowledge comes from those who've suffered brain damage and the results thereof. After the class, the professor and I briefly discussed the use of memory manipulation as treatment for PTSD and other trauma related issues. Really fascinating.

Which leads me to my current plans for my senior thesis (Honors College requirement). After discussing it with my senior seminar professor, I think I'm going to examine the difference between Type I and Type II PTSD. The former is trauma that happens to an individual and the latter is observed trauma. The professor works with 9/11 responders, most of whom have Type II PTSD, and is going to try to get me access to some of those sessions, with the permission of the patient, of course. She's rather well regarded in that area of psychology, so I'm excited to see how we work this out. The HC director approved the topic and the accompanying independent study. Very excited!

Back in the Saddle

On Wednesday, I returned to horseback riding. The winter was so nasty and the weather has been so uncertain until now that it hasn't been possible. But Wednesday was really nice (against the weather report of rain) and it was nice to be back at the barn.

I love the smell of the barn. Hay and horses is an amazing and intoxicating smell. While Christine (a teacher in the art department and fellow rider) and I waited for our lesson, I joked that the child in the ring we were watching posted better than I did. Christine commented that I canter better than any of them, which was very kind.

The new instructor is my speed, though I secretly enjoyed watched Alyssa and Sue (our club sponsor) argue. I was on Spanky who is the most beautiful shade of red ever. He's tall, but not to tall that I couldn't mount him on my own if he was saddled with a western saddle. The lack of pommel on the English saddle makes that impossible. The problem with Spanky is that he's a little lazy and a bit of a follower. I gave him a regular pep talk about how he should be his own horse and not listen to the gossip around the stables, after which he stopped following the others so much. Breakthrough!

We trotted for an hour, getting back into the rhythm of posting. The new instructor commented that I had a Western post and we worked on correcting it. She means that I sit far back in the saddle, making posting a lot more work for me and the horse. After I corrected it, there was definite improvement. At the end of the lesson, I dismounted and undid Spanky's saddle, then took him back to the barn. I removed his bridle and brushed him down, promising that at some point I would get him on a Western saddle and we'd go trail riding. He was a Western horse, so I think we had an understanding. I hung out at the barn for awhile and just enjoyed being there.

I like horses. They're not particularly fragile (getting one to move when you're dismounted and they don't want to is a full body effort) but as a species they're incredibly gentle. When we're waiting on the line and Spanky starts dancing because he wants to run, there's that moment where I just want to let him so we can see how fast we can go. But one of the differences between English and Western riding is control (as well as the use of reigns - didn't realize that so much until recently). So Spanky and I don't run, but I think we have a secret understanding that, in a different saddle, we would.

As a side note...2 days later, I'm still extremely sore. So out of shape...