The FCE files - a request for humans

If a cool celebrity dog like Brian Griffin could become the spokesdog for FCEs, that could help raise awareness, perhaps limiting the stress and pain of the families of an FCE stricken pet.

There is no guarantee of recovery from FCE, but the chances are excellent for at least a partial recovery, and not too bad for a complete recovery. The family's lifestyle might change a bit, but everyone, including the dog, can continue to lead happy lives, especially after those first few harrowing weeks.

I've received a lot of comments and emails about FCE. I'm not an expert by any means. I, like so many of you, was a dog owner who had no idea something like this could happen. My family suffered the same anxieties and muddled through with physical therapy and, basically, canine nursing care. The bonds between animal and human grow even stronger. (Though I think Ralph still secretly blames me for the whole experience. It's that look he gives me when he rises out of bed and that hind leg is stiff in the mornings.)

I'd like to keep a photo list of dogs and their families that have been through this. Please send me a photo of your dog (with or without you and your family, pre or post FCE...up to you) and some details on where and when the FCE struck. If you'd like to write about your feelings, the challenges of taking care of your pet, and his or her current state, that would be great. I'd like to post them in the blog and provide a list of links to those posts on the side. I'll start it right now with Ralph.

Thanks

Emotional listening to classical music

There are certain pieces of music that...emotionally...transport me. Words are inadequate for explaining feelings, one has to feel them on their own. This transport to a new emotional state is immediate and personal. There is no guarantee that what I am feeling is the same as what you are feeling. There isn't even a guarantee that the music that moves me will move anyone else (though some of these pieces are admittedly known for this power.)

I'm not going to get into the details of listening to classical music. Music appreciation is for someone else to teach (which, if you haven't ever taken such a class, you should, or at least go to a library and check out a book on classical music and some CDs or DVDs of performances.) Rather than focus on intellectual listening (which you should do at some point, I think) I'd like to focus on emotional listening. Sound immersion really.

By emotional listening, I mean immersing yourself in the sound, giving up other thoughts, letting the music take you somewhere else. About a year ago, I mentioned the cliche of how cut grass can send people back to their childhoods. Scents can do that. Tastes and images can do itl, too. And while those senses can conjure powerful memories and images, there is something about musical sounds that intensify this sensation for me.

Now, as a kid, my classical music listening experience was confined to misunderstood and under appreciated field trips to the Music Hall in Cincinnati, Ohio and to the occasional Warner Brothers cartoon. So, the music can't possibly be triggering direct memories.

Yet each of these pieces triggers memories. Perhaps these memories are representative of the mood evoked. Inevitably, the music makes me feel wistful for a more innocent time, when love was simple and strong, when emotions were pure, powerful, and unconditional. There is joy in these feelings, but a sadness, too, like looking at old films of frolicking children, each of whom has long since grown old and passed on.

I should mention that other music, besides classical can do this for me, but I'm limiting the selections here to a handful of classical works. I'm using their full names from allmusic.com and including 30 second samples of each, which, of course, do not do them justice. Also, many times, an entire work doesn't have this affect on me. It can be a short sequence of notes, no more than a couple of bars of music, that send me into this melancholic euphoria.

Also, to be completely accurate, other works cause different responses in me. Some of this music makes me feel...transcendent, where I can feel my heart swell with pride and happiness and power (picture the Grinch's heart in the Christmas cartoon.)

It's getting late and I keep rambling. Here's some of the music. Let me know what music does this for you. If you haven't discovered classical, drop your defenses and listen for a bit. There is something there for every taste.

Prayer of St. Gregory (interlude from opera "Etchmiadzin"), for trumpet & string orchestra, Op. 62b composed by Alan Hovhaness in 1946. I've never heard the opera, but this five minute work for trumpet and strings is a longtime favorite of mine. There are many recordings of this. Be sure to find one with strings, not organ for the accompaniment. I like the Gerard Schwarz conducted versions best. This work immediately drops me into a meditative state. I always feel better and more relaxed after listening to this.

Symphony No. 3, Op. 36 ("Symphony of Sorrowful Songs") composed by Henryk Gorecki in 1976. This is nearly an hour long symphony that takes its time building emotional tension. The symphony is in three movements and features a soprano soloist singing the "sorrowful songs" of the subtitle. I urge you to investigate this work. It was made popular by Dawn Upshaw and the London Sinfonietta back in the early 90s. There are now numerous versions. The links above are to multiple clips. Grab a favorite beverage, wear comfortable clothes, find a good position to sit or lie down and just be quiet and patient and listen to this work. The soprano's voice will be seem shockingly high after the depths of the notes in the early part of the first movement (you'll need some volume; headphones work great.) The second movement is a beautiful dirge. The third is relentlessly slow yet almost hopeful. Just listen.

Cantus in Memory of Benjamin Britten, for string orchestra & bell composed by Arvo Part between 1977-1980. The bell tolls throughout, the strings take turns starting, descending, repeating, finally stopping on the same tone. When the basses finally catch up with all of the other strings, all of them stop simultaneously, leaving the sound of the bell, struck just before the strings stop, pealing, alone, fading to silence. It makes my eyes well up just hearing the music in my head. It's seven minutes of reverence for those we've lost.

This post is getting pretty long. I'll add a Part II, tomorrow.

Good night. (By the way, that photo is of a bell with Arvo Part.)