My two elders. Nicky, 13 (91 dog years) and my sister Sarah.

Since I have put it all out there for you already, there’s no harm in confessing here that one of my favorite series on TV has been Sex in the City.  Trashy, ridiculous, self-indulgent and of no social value, Sex in the City was a vehicle for me to leave a bourgeois life for  half an hour a week, an escape from my nursing job and Sunday school mentality, my home cooked meals and commuter husband and high school children with their activities, and watch a bunch of immoral young women fornicate their way across Manhattan.  A close friend said she couldn’t stand Sarah Jessica Parker because the producers pretended that she was so beautiful when she was really quite homely.  I decided I loved her because she made it possible for women who aren’t your standard beauty be thought of as such, as long as they had big boobs and were skinny.  When the series was over, my son bought me the special edition dvd that came in the pink suede box and my guilty pleasure was watching it over and over when I didn’t want to concentrate on something worthwhile.  I could knit a complicated lace pattern, or even blog with the white noise of Sex in the City in the background.  Now it is rerun nightly on the Entertainment Channel.  With Oprah off the air, there is nothing on the tube while I put my feet up for an afternoon break and cup of coffee, until I found SITC again.

But horrors, without warning, an abused, emaciated dog, limping along to music in a minor key blasts on the screen during a commercial break.  It’s an advertisement for the ASPCA!  Don’t get me wrong; I love the ASPCA. They have a very high rating with most watch dog groups, using the bulk of their funding, 73.7% for programs and less than 8% for administrative expenses.  The ASPCA works tirelessly rescuing abused and neglected animals from puppy mills and private owners. The ASPCA has funding sources for sick animals and promotes adoption.  What I am finding them guilty of at this point is preaching to the choir.  Their advertising campaign plays on pure emotional manipulation.  Both our dogs are rescues. We love dogs.  Jim and I reach for our respective remotes and switch channels the moment the ad comes on.  It is too gruesome for our gentle hearts to bear.  It just occurred to me that they want ME to give them more money! Will it help me sleep through the night?  Will they come and ask my neighbor to provide a better home for the horses he keeps on the pile of manure in his yard?  Or rescue all the dogs that are chained up out of doors in the dead of winter in this area?

(I’m limiting this blog post to animals because the Feed the Children ads are too heartbreaking to write about.   And I have my own elderly human being to worry about in my sister Sarah, as my readers know.)

It is in this frame of mind that a story in this morning’s New York Times crossed my desk.  Elderly animals by Isa Leshko, a photographer from Philadelphia who cared for her parents in New Jersey. Her mother suffers from Alzheimer’s and now lives in a nursing home. She says of her Elderly Animals project; “I am traveling to sanctuaries across the country to photograph animals that are elderly or at the end stage of their lives. I began this series shortly after I had spent a year in New Jersey helping my sister care for my mother who has Alzheimer’s disease. When my mother got ill, I made a conscious decision to not photograph her. However, caring for her had a profound impact on me and I knew the experience would influence my photography. Shortly after I had returned from New Jersey, I encountered a blind elderly horse that was living on a relative’s property. I was mesmerized by this animal and spent the afternoon photographing him. After reviewing my film, I realized I had found a project that would enable me to sift through my feelings around my mother’s illness.” Here’s a video about the project by Walley Films

Here’s a comment regarding theTimes article about Leshko by Mark from Phoenix