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Cheever and Cheever

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from: Susan Cheever

Canine Excrement

Posted Thursday, Nov. 12, 1998, at 8:25 AM ET

Loved your haiku. It has a direct application in this house this morning. The young dog let loose on the nine by 12. I punished him severely, which is why he is sitting in my lap as I write. In my book, I tell that story about the time we all--Warren and I and you and wasn't there someone else around?--sent the big box of dogshit to the Famous Writer. My editor suggested that I write a note to the Famous Writer before the book comes out apologizing, or at least alerting him to the fact that 1) The box of dogshit he received anonymously in l974 was from me; and 2) We sent it because of a bad review he wrote of Max Geismar. I tried composing such a letter, but it was impossible. Dear F. W., you may remember that back in l974 you received a box of dogshit? Your haiku would have done the trick.

As for the gulf war or whatever it is when the news shows photo after photo of planes of all kinds taking off into the blue sky, it's still not really newsworthy I notice. I talked to a friend of mine who spent a lot of time in Kuwait painting the fire--wonderful paintings--after the last war, and she said everyone there has an incredible sense of entitlement. They're like a nation of spoiled brats, she said. Saving face is such a huge preoccupation there that if you ask the wrong question, or ask your question to the wrong official, you can be held up for years. No one can admit that they don't know. Then I watched Madeline Albright on Charlie Rose who essentially said the same thing but with a degree of definiteness that I can only envy.

Her world is crystal clear. Hussein said he would do X and Y. He didn't do X and Y. That's it for him. Are there analogies here for dog training? (The puppy is now alternating between nibbling my feet and yapping at the older dog who has taken refuge under the bed.)

I remember the night of the declaration Gulf War. I was upset by it, upset by our aggression as a nation, just upset. It made me feel sick. It was a cool, pleasant night. I took a long walk downtown and as I came home up Lexington Avenue a dense fog rolled in over the city. It felt like the end of the world. Have you noticed how many things that feel like the end of the world turn out to be not much than fading memories, or a few lines of email?

the breakfast table
entries
123456789101112131415161718192021
from: Susan Cheever

Canine Excrement

Posted Thursday, Nov. 12, 1998, at 8:25 AM ET
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Benjamin Cheever is a novelist and author of the forthcoming Famous After Death. Susan Cheever is a teacher, columnist, and writer. Her memoir, Note Found in a Bottle: My Life as a Drinker, is forthcoming. They are siblings.
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