The Dog That Hated Moving Cars: An Interview with Myself

[ Editor's note: This was submitted to McSweeneys.net's columnist contest this past summer. It didn't win (looks like some great ones did win, of course), and so we're giving it a home here, mainly so we can just let it go. ]

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DOG’S NAME: I never found out.

BREED: German Shepherd

WHERE DID YOU MEET THIS DOG? Briarcliff Rd., Atlanta, GA

HOW DID YOU MEET? It was December, the holiday rush, and I was one month late getting my emissions and registration done on my car. I had already gotten one ticket for expired tags. This particular weekday, I decided to complete my registration in the morning. I was driving down Briarcliff around 8:30 a.m., heading for the tag office, when traffic slowed to a crawl. A dog was causing some commotion in the road ahead. But no one seemed to be doing anything about it. I considered. I pulled my car over and got out. That’s when I saw that the dog, a German Shepherd, was trying to bite the tires of moving cars.

THE DOG WAS TRYING TO BITE THE TIRES OF MOVING CARS? Yes, it looked like he was trying to pop the tires with his teeth. He hated these moving cars. Maybe he saw a sibling killed by a car, I don’t know. But, you can imagine, biting tires is a great way to get run over. At one point, he placed one paw on the door of a moving car and ran alongside it, barking, like a Dog Cop trying to get the driver to pull over.

BUT THE DRIVER KEPT GOING? Yes. Everyone kept driving by, slowly, while the dog attacked their car. I guess they saw me, the sucker, and figured I would handle it. I ran up behind the dog, picked him up and carried him to my car. He was pretty heavy, but once I held him he relaxed. He was panting hard. I smelled his fur – it had that musty dog scent.

Then a passing driver shouted out his window, “Get your goddamn dog out of the road!”

WHAT DID YOU DO THEN? Well, I had that “I’m a Good Samaritan” rush going. The dog had a collar but no tag (not unlike my car). First, I drove around a nearby neighborhood. If I spotted someone outside, I called him or her over to the car and asked if they recognized the dog. After a few suspicious looks, I realized someone might call the cops, which would earn me another ticket for expired tags. So I drove away.

WHERE DID YOU GO? I took the dog to a nearby vet. I should mention here that when you are in a moving car, and you’re a dog, all other cars look like they’re moving, even if they are sitting still.

This German Shepherd, standing in my back seat, was like, Holy shit, moving cars are everywhere! Must kill! He began these spastic BARKING-BARKING-BARKING-SPINNING-ATTACKING maneuvers. He smashed himself against the windows. He wanted to kill every car. He was very loud about it.

When I got to the vet, they scanned him for a chip, but no luck. They told me they couldn’t take him. They suggested I put up signs and hold on to the dog until the owners came forth, or take him to a no-kill shelter. Or, there was always Animal Control.

ANIMAL CONTROL KILLS DOGS, RIGHT? They give them seven days. I was a tiny bit annoyed that I had taken on the responsibility of this dog when I should be getting my registration done. But I didn’t want to just drop him at Animal Control, so I decided to take the dog to the Humane Society.

This was across town. Rush hour in Atlanta is not fun, especially when you’re driving with an expired tag and trying to avoid the cops. But you really get a sense of how many cars are in Atlanta when you’re riding with a dog that hates moving cars. This dog wanted to kill every single one.

He spent the entire time SPINNING-PANTING-BARKING-ATTACKING. All attempts to calm the dog – petting, soothing voice – failed. It was very loud in my car. I temporarily lost some hearing. I got dog spit on my ear, neck and collar. At stoplights, other drivers stared at me; they saw (and heard) this dog and must have assumed he was crying for help. I could only shrug.

DID THE HUMANE SOCIETY TAKE THE DOG? No. I made the mistake of telling them I didn’t own the dog. They don’t take dogs from non-owners.

SO, IF YOU HAD BEEN THE OWNER OF THE DOG, THEY WOULD HAVE ALLOWED YOU TO GIVE HIM AWAY? I guess. I did say, “So what if I told you that I am the dog’s owner?” It didn’t work.

WHERE TO NEXT? This place called Southern Hope, a no-kill shelter down the road from the Humane Society.

A PROMISING-SOUNDING NAME. I thought so, too. I arrived at about 9:30 a.m. and walked the dog in. When he wasn’t around moving cars, he was very calm and obedient. It was like that old cartoon about that guy and his singing and dancing frog that will make him millions: Look at my vaudeville frog! But when everyone looks, the frog just sits there.

Everyone at Southern Hope commented on how well behaved and handsome this dog was. I filled out paperwork for him. I put down where I had found him. I had begun to wonder if his owners would actually come looking for him. Maybe they dumped the dog on the side of the road because he was so crazy about moving cars?

When I was done with the paperwork, the Southern Hope woman said, “We don’t accept dogs until 10 a.m. Bring him back in 20 minutes.”

I said, “You can’t just take him now?” She said she could not, but if I came back in 20 minutes it wouldn’t be a problem. She was smiling, so I felt pretty good about it. I went to buy coffee.

When I returned, the Southern Hope woman was no longer smiling. And her supervisor was there. The supervisor told me she couldn’t take the dog. I asked her why, and she pointed to the street I had written down, Briarcliff, where I found him. “That’s DeKalb County,” she said. “We only take dogs from Fulton County.”

DOG RESCUERS WORK ONLY WITHIN COUNTY BORDERS? I guess. I assume it has something to do with government red tape. Still, I was pretty bothered.

After a bit more back and forth, which escalated the tension, I said, “Well, give me back that form I filled out then.” Just because I was bothered and wanted to cause some commotion on their end.

The supervisor said, “No, you can’t have that form.”

I said, “Why?”

The woman who originally helped me, the one who had been so nice, said, “Because, if we find that dog roaming the streets, we’re going to come and arrest you.”

At this point, I tried to make my lower jaw drop to the floor, just for the effect it would have. I said, very loudly, “I just saved this dog from being run over by cars because he’s so stupid that he tries to bite tires!” (Here, I looked at the dog for effect, but he sat calmly, watching me.) “And you’re threatening to arrest me?”

“That’s right,” the supervisor said.

“You know,” I said, holding a finger in the air, ready to follow it with something completely devastating. But I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I stormed out.

I was almost to my car when I realized the German Shepherd, without a leash, was leading the way. He patiently waited for me to open the door and hopped in the back seat. When we started driving, he again tried to attack all moving cars.

WHAT DID YOU DO NOW? I called my ex-. I told her the story. She got a good laugh out of it, mainly because she was my ex- and could hear the dog in the background, BARKING-BARKING-BARKING the whole time. But she gave me the location of the DeKalb County no-kill shelter on the opposite side of town.

I said, “I hope they take this dog, because I can’t take him, and I know you can’t take him.” (Our situations simply didn’t permit it.)

YOU WERE FRUSTRATED BY THIS POINT? Yes. It took me 45 minutes to get across town to the shelter. My morning was slipping away. And that dog BARKED-SLOBBERED-ATTACKED-SPUN-PANTED-BARKED the entire way. At one point, he barked at a cop car, like he was trying to call attention to my expired tags.

But I also felt sorry for him. His bark was getting hoarse. He was in a really bad place.

WHAT HAPPENED WHEN YOU GOT TO THE SHELTER? The guy came out and looked at the dog, sitting handsome and quiet in the back seat. I somehow knew what he was going to say before he said it:

“He’s really good-looking. But we can’t take him. We’re already overflowing. Why don’t you take him home with you?”

I told him I couldn’t. I asked him what my options were. He told me that Animal Control was nearby. I asked him how many days they gave dogs before they put them down. He told me. We shared a look that said everything.

I really wanted to be a good person – to have the time to put up the signs and find the dog’s owner, or find a new owner. But I couldn’t even get my registration for my car completed on time. I had no room in my life for this dog.

AND SO … YOU TOOK HIM TO ANIMAL CONTROL … DIDN’T YOU? Yes.

WHEN YOU WERE DRIVING THERE, DID YOU FEEL BAD? Yes. But I was also having trouble finding the place. I called them to get directions and I was connected to an automated system that makes you speak your selection into the phone. “Say ‘1’ for directions, ‘2’ for …” But, remember, I was driving, and so the dog was on the attack. Every time I tried to say “1” the dog would bark into the phone and an automated voice would say, “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand. Please try again.”

I finally found Animal Control around noon. It was behind the DeKalb County Courthouse. At that hour, some sort of protest was going on, which means the street was lined with protesters … and motorcycle cops. Cops everywhere. I had avoided cops all morning, and now I had stumbled upon Cop Mecca.

DID YOU GET A TICKET FOR THE EXPIRED TAGS? No. I used a Jedi Mind Trick. Instead of looking suspicious, I pulled over and asked a motorcycle cop to point me to the Animal Control building.

He said, “That’s a handsome dog. Why are you getting rid of him?”

I said, “He’s not my dog.”

The cop said, “You should keep him.”

I told him I couldn’t. He pointed down the road.

SO, ANIMAL CONTROL TOOK THE DOG? NO PROBLEMS? Yes. It was easy. You would think the place where they can do the killing should at least have the most paperwork.

DID YOU FEEL BAD ABOUT LEAVING THE DOG? Yes. I petted him and wished him luck. We had a moment.

DID YOU THINK ABOUT THE DOG AFTER THAT? He’s all that I thought about for the rest of the day. That night, I told a friend the story and she summed it up perfectly: “So, you saved the dog’s life,” she said. “And then you essentially killed the dog?”

The next morning I called Animal Control. They remembered me. I asked about the dog. They said his owners had called yesterday afternoon and they had already picked him up. I asked Animal Control for the owner’s phone number. They said they weren’t allowed to give it to me.

SO … THAT’S IT? Yes.

YOU NEVER SAW THE DOG THAT HATED MOVING CARS AGAIN? No. But every time I drive down Briarcliff, I look for him.

Interview with Randa Jarrar

A few years ago, the proprietor of this blog was over at Eyeshot when he happened upon a story titled “You Are a 14-Year-Old Arab Chick Who Just Moved to Texas.” Swift in pace, hilarious and also heartbreaking, not to mention timely, the story caught the proprietor’s heart in such a way that he emailed the author, Randa Jarrar. A friendship began based around the completely original premise that both had unpublished novels.

Now, Jarrar has ruined that premise. Through loads of hard work and dedication to craft and story, she is releasing through Other Press her first novel, titled A Map of Home. It’s a “coming-of-age story” – if “coming of age” includes the backdrop of Middle Eastern political tumult, abuse, the shadow of Saddam Hussein, and Texas. Weaved into the storyline is Jarrar's Eyeshot short story, and, like that tale, the novel is receiving praise for being both hilarious and heartbreaking.

Jarrar is appearing at the Decatur Book Festival this weekend just outside Atlanta. It’s the launch of her fall tour for the book. A couple of nights ago, she talked with the proprietor of this site about her writing. It happened on gchat. Here’s the transcript.

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me: there you are

Randa: hold on a sec

me: okey doke

Randa: my kid and my boyfriend were discussing how to light soap on fire...and i had to extricate myself.

me: are they starting a fight club?

Randa: ha, no, it has to do with a japanese game show. how are you?

me: oh man, randa, can i just say: hi! how are you? how have you been??

Randa: hi! i'm great. i'm starting to wonder though if i'll ever write again because i spend all my time googling and getting ready to teach.

me: ah. but if i read your facebook status updates correctly, you spent some time in a maine cabin, writing this summer?

Randa: oh, yeah. that's true. good save! yes. it was amazing. there was no running water in the cabins, and so I spent my time peeing in the woods and hiking and writing. It's an island that's entirely reserved for the writers and artists. It takes 2 hours to walk around the entire island. I revised my second book.

me: that sounds great. ok. we got ahead of ourselves. second book. we need to talk about first book. first official question to you as you get ready for the release of our first novel, "a map of home": are you freaking the FUCK OUT?

Randa: Yeah, a little bit. I'm wondering if anyone will read it. Then, I wonder if my parents will read it. Then I freak out some more. But, as you know, it's been years and years since I finished the first draft, and I'm really fucking dying for it to be OUT.

me: i feel funny asking such official sounding questions, by the way. remember when i emailed you? after i read “You Are a 14-Year-Old Arab Chick Who Just Moved to Texas”? on eyeshot? and i complimented your story? and we started emailing each other? and then you said you had a novel?

Randa: Of course! That was so awesome. I think you sent me a one-line email, something like: "Great story." It's really funny that we became friends from such a small sentence. But yeah, I'd read your work there, too, and we both had novels, and I remember exchanging them. It was so great!

me: ok, let's start there. because we exchanged novels. mine has never been published, and that makes you ever greater for reading it. but yours - ok, so when i read it, that early draft, it was called "woman of wonder," i believe. and to be honest, i went into it with all the skepticism you should have when reading someone's first novel. it could have been horrible. chances are, it was going to be pretty bad. and then i started reading it, and i was immediately blown away and also thrilled because i knew that this was going to be a great novel, and i was going to be one of the first to have read it. ..... so ....... question ...... it didn't get picked up right away. can you talk a little about that process, from the time i read it to the time you got an agent and it finally sold?

Randa: Yes. It was a painful, but I've learned, necessary process. I'm really thankful now that it took so long. Here's how it happened: I finished a draft in 2003. I sent it to an agent. The agent called and signed me on two days later. I was in heaven. Then, a couple of editors liked it. I was going to be in NYC, so they invited me over to their offices. We talked about changes they thought the novel had to undertake, and I was totally resistant. A few weeks later, both editors rejected the novel. Then, a dozen more editors rejected. Then, a few more. So...I decided to revise. One of the editors sent me a letter with revision suggestions. But my heart wasn't in it. I revised anyway, but the editor saw that I was faking, so she passed on it. There were a couple more nibbles after that, but no real bites.

Then, in 2005, I started revising in earnest. At the end of that year, I asked my agent if she would submit to smaller, independent presses. She submitted the revision to Other Press. They liked it and asked for two more revisions. I was really into reworking the draft at that point, and kept revising. In March of '06, they bought it. Then, I found it that it wasn't coming out for another two years, and I got into bed and curled up for an hour. I didn't know then that the longer a book stays at a press pre-release, the more excited everyone at the press gets about it...

Anyway, then, I did yet another revision with the publisher herself, Judith Gurewich. We spent hours on the phone last October. At some point, she wanted me to get rid of a rap song, and to convince her, I rapped. It was really amazing. I guess I've babbled. The main point is, it was a ridiculous process, really arduous, but I wouldn't have it any other way, because the book is SO MUCH better for it.

me: well, ok, two questions come to mind for me:

1) “You Are a 14-Year-Old Arab Chick Who Just Moved to Texas” was sort of a foundation for the novel, correct? The story went on to win 2004 Million Writers Award .... but is it still in the novel?

Randa: Yes...it's chapter 14. And no, it wasn't the foundation, not at all...I'd already finished a draft by the time I sent that story out to Eyeshot...

me: 2) what did you learn about fighting revisions? what did you learn about knowing what to keep, even if editors didn't want it, and what to let go of?

Randa: Hmmm, second question really good, really difficult. OK...first I'll say that a lot of people have talked about how sometimes you have to put your first novel in a drawer. For me, I was completely in love with this novel, and I really wanted it out in the world. I felt like I put so much of myself into it, so that was the first decision: to keep working on it. The thing about knowing what to take out: that takes time. Time is what makes you the editor of your work instead of the person who sat around for years writing it. As soon as a few years passed, it was easy for me to see what was really necessary for the narrative and what wasn't. And I made a few unnecessary cuts...then months later re-inserted them because I could feel, thanks to time, that something was really missing

In the past two years, I've gotten to really know the book, and so when someone suggested the wrong revision, it felt like they were suggesting chopping a finger off, Coen Bros.-style. And when what they said felt right, I instantly would chop the offending text out, because I knew it needed to go.

me: you touched on this in your answer ... that you put so much of yourself in it .... and your reference to your parents reading it ........ can you tell us how much of this story is your story? true to your life? and how much is more a part of the novel's narrative than your own life?

Randa: Hmmm, have you read Memoirs of a Catholic Girlhood? Mary McCarthy spends a lot of time in notes at the end of each chapter telling the reader how the preceding chapter was different from the real events. I think I'd almost have to write another book to talk about the differences between me and Nidali, my narrator. But, I will say this: the novel relies heavily on my own experiences, but I've mashed many of those experiences together, and the result is fiction. None of the stuff really happened, and the characters tend to be really out there, really exaggerated versions of the people I grew up with. But I wanted to write a book whose narrator was very close to my background because all my life I searched but never found a book like A Map of Home.

...so, you know how some kids with weird names never find their name on cups or keychains at touristy places? It was sort of like that feeling, magnified by a thousand.

me: in the press thing i was sent, one of the descriptive lines says the novel covers "Arab culture as we don’t know it.” this is timely, considering the events of recent years. what's your hope for the novel against this backdrop of stereotypes and prejudices against people of arab descent?

Randa: one of my hopes as I was writing the book was for its audience to be both Arab and non-Arab; for it to work with both camps. For Arabs, I want there to be a glint of recognition, and if not, a glint of, "Oh, wow, not all families are alike." For non-Arabs, I want there to be an Aha moment, and a larger realization where Arabs and Arab-Americans become more humanized, more particular. I wrote this post-9/11, while people were asking me the stupidest questions. I hope this book answers some of the smarter questions...

At the same time, I don't think the family in my book is representative of The Larger Arab Family. I wanted to celebrate the individual in this book; the right for people to be themselves, separate from larger entities.

me: can i just say, before i ask another question, that you're coming to my town in three days for the decatur book festival. and we're going to freaking party! or, at least, hang out at literary events and go, "uhh-hmm. yes, i respectfully disagree with what you are saying." i'm pumped!

Randa: Me tooooo! And I'm dying for some good soul food. I hope there's good soul food in Decatur, yo.

me: so, describe nidali for me. like, pretend you're telling me about your friend nidali. who is she?

Randa: Nidali is super cool, very profane, in your face, energetic, sassy, a bit selfish, confused, witty, and really into masturbating. She's obsessed with her family history, and loves re-telling stories she's overheard. Oh, and she is a hip-hop girl, through and through.

me: and when people ask you what you're novel is about, what have you learned to say, and not say?

Randa: I say, "It's a coming-of-age novel set in the Middle East and Texas." I don't say, "It's about liberating Palestine." The last time I said that, as a joke, the person I said it to was all, "Oh, I love Indian food." It trips me up that people still don't know what/where Palestine is...

me: i bet. ...... ok, so, novel coming out. reviews ..... what's your thinking on REVIEWS. you gonna obsess over them? or ignore them?

Randa: Well, the first two were starred reviews, and I read them over and over again. Then, I let it go. The few that came after them, I read once, then put away. So yes, I'll read them, but I'll try to be healthy about the whole thing...

me: How has the process of seeing your novel get published changed you as a person? and as a writer? and as a teacher? and as a mother?

Randa: As a mother, I think I'm a little more patient (my son would probably disagree). Before, I used to sit up at night worrying that my son would suffer as a grown up; now, I know he will, and I also know it'll be good for him. As a teacher, I feel a lot more confident, and because I know that writing is all about process, I try to tell my students to be easier on their work. Female students tend to be really hard on themselves. And as a writer, I think I'm still learning to be easier on myself, but I think it's taught me to write about whatever the hell I want to write about, not what I think I ought to explore. As a person? I think I'm still changing.

me: so - the other side of being a writer - now you have to go out and promote your work. i've seen you read before - in a parking lot outside criminal records. you were magnificent. but are you nervous about facing this kind of stuff? do you feel like you have to become something or someone different to "sell" the book? or what?

Randa: Thanks! I think the key is for me to really be myself. When I'm genuinely myself, I'm really comfortable, and I have an easier time being confident. I'm a little nervous about radio interviews, because I say "like" and "awesome" a whole lot. But, hey. I'm really thankful that my boyfriend Russell will be hanging out with my kid when I'm on tour. Wouldn't be able to do it without him.

I am definitely nervous, but I would say the overwhelming feeling is that of excitement. I'm really just like, "Fuck yes! I can't wait to read this at some of my favorite bookstores! Wearing my hot pink heels! Yeah!"

But I'm sure by week 4 of the tour, I'll be all, "Fuck no! I can't wait to be on my favorite couch at home! And take these fucking heels off! Yeah!"

me: so, now that it's official, you are published as a novelist, you are officially "living the writer's life." can you describe your life for us? work, play, etc. please, burst our bubble. and then ..... tell me about this second book.

Randa: I lead a very glamorous life. In the morning, I feed my cat in my PJs. Then, I make myself breakfast and force my son to eat. Then, I try to write. Then, I read emails and the news. Then, I go to the Y and swim laps. Then, I make dinner with my family and sit on my porch and read. It's very supa supa glam.

The second book is a collection of stories. I am a really huge and dedicated lover of short fiction. There are twelve stories in all, and most of them are in the first person. A few of them are magical. They're set all over the place, in NYC, Texas, Egypt, the Puget Sound, Zaire, Gaza, and a few other places. They were really fun stories to right, and hell to revise. I can't wait for you to read them!

me: last question … decatur book festival:

Randa: Yeah!

me: are you excited about anything in particular? aside from soul food? or are you like most and think, 'what is decatur? and what does it have to do with atlanta? and why is there a book festival there?'

Randa: No, I think I totally get the book festival thing. It makes sense for it to be there, I think, and I'm really excited about being around thousands of people who love books! I think that's what I'm most excited about. Then, meeting the other writers. Then, the soul food. It's gonna rock!

AJC on the Car Smashing

AJC's Phil Kloer wishes he was going to be there.

The reputation of The Duck & Herring Co. cannot be dented

Those crazy people over at The Duck & Herring Co. are at it again ...

This time, they're holding a car smashing. Here are the deets, pulled straight from their web site, or MySpace page, or something:

THE DUCK & HERRING CO. PROUDLY PRESENTS:

A HOT SUMMER LITERARY CAR SMASHING

At Eyedrum, in the parking lot.

To celebrate the release of its gorgeous and blue Pocket Field Guide for Warm Weather 2008, and to get out some summer-heat aggression, the editors at The Duck & Herring Co, in partnership with Eyedrum, are throwing a car smashing. What is a car smashing, you ask? You know: one of those carnival-like attractions where you pay a tiny bit of money for the right to smash a car with a sledgehammer. This is the perfect (and perfectly legal) way to let out hot and sweaty anger over: 1) the person who recently dumped you, 2) the dump-truck driver that cut you off in traffic, 3) your boss’s stupid haircut …. and many, many other scenarios, real or imagined.

So come on out, BYOB (bring your own bat, though we will have a sledgehammer on hand), and start smashing! Also, there might be a reading from our Pocket Field Guide, there might be a music sing-along, and you might want to purchase a Pocket Field Guide when it’s all said and done.

WHERE: Eyedrum parking lot, 290 Martin Luther King Jr. Dr. S, Atlanta
WHEN: August 1, 2008, 7 p.m.
HOW MUCH: $1 for 5 swings of the sledgehammer; $5 for two minutes of sledgehammer swinging

Note: Participants will be required to sign a waiver indicating they are taking part in the car smashing at their own risk.

Maybe we should italicize Lain's name, too?

Another note from Lain Shakespeare. Along with being one of the most prolific Say, Sport contributors today, he was on the Kenyon College swim team, the one that has won 5,234 national championships in a row. ...

Say, Sport,

Thought you might find this interesting. No doubt it will be one of the stories of the Olympics.

http://sports.espn.go.com/oly/swimming/news/story?id=3482932

He's from Lilburn. We swam together at SwimAtlanta in high school.

Also worth noting are the comments at the bottom.

Lain

Gore Vidal interview

Lain over at Wren's Nest pointed the staff to this perfect interview.

Father's Day Weekend

This father is thinking about a few things this weekend. First, his kids. God, he loves em. Wants to bottle them and take a drink of them every once in a while for the rest of his days. The elixir of life, they are!

Also, there are sports happenings this weekend.

- Boy! How about that Tiger? I have not sided with that dude in the past, as this site's three readers can attest. But as any half-wit writer knows, if you want to create sympathy for your character, give him a weakness. Seeing Tiger gimping around Torrey Pines on his bad knee, dropping shots like hot records, laughing at his own luck, grimacing throughout - well, Tiger, you are worthy of this father's admiration. Dig in, pal. It's Sunday, you got a kid at home, and history before you.

- Check this out: "Over the past five years, 3,035 thoroughbreds, standardbreds and quarter horses have died at racing facilities." Glad somebody is taking note, finally, and seeing what's up. Horses are our friends, yo.

- Go Lakers. Though this father has nothing against the Celtics.