Betrayl of Man's Best Friend

Yesterday offered some interesting/bothersome experiences...for me at least. The first was on our way home from church. There was a slow down in traffic and you could see people stopped and staring. We look over and there has been an accident, it appears, between two motorcycles. The horrifying part was there was an unconscious man and noone was helping him. He just lay there sprawled out on the sidewalk, obviously unconscious, no blood apparent. People just stood around him about 5 ft away just staring, no help offered. Granted they may not be able to do much, but check a pulse, get him out of that position, offer words of comfort. It really, really bothered...more than seeing the woman hit by the motorcycle right before my eyes. Blasen said that they really don't learn first-aid over here and the Chinese sort-of see it as something you need to be an expert in if you are going to offer help. Which, granted, can be helpful, becuase do-gooders sometimes do more harm than good....but still. So, that's incident #1 for the day.
Incident #2 came on our way to Peter's house (the guy that Blasen works with over here). His wife had come down to the street to show us the way to their apartment. She had Bliss by the hand and leading the way. This other older lady is driving towards us on a scooter, heading straight for us. She puts on her blinker saying she's going to turn in front of us and I think she'll wait for us to pass, since we were already there in her way. She does not stop though and I watch as she comes within an inch, seriously, before she stops in front of Bliss. I almost verbally and physically attacked that woman. It wasn't like she wasn't paying attention, I was watching her and she obviously wanted us to stop and let her pass. It happened so quickly and I was so surprised that I, thankfully, didn't knock her off her scooter.
So, we recover and go in to dinner. Peter has prepared traditional Cantonese fare. There was somekind of mushroom soup, fried pork wontons, shrimp, and stewed beef with white carrots and what they called soy skin. Blasen warned me before hand that Cantonese food is his least favorite. I knew this because when we were in Hong Kong, we didn't eat any chinese food. He told me to take the rice if they offered because it can help get some of the more unappealling things down. I was dreading this dinner, because with being pregnant, Chinese hasn't been my favorite. I eat a little of everything. Nothing tastes absolutely horrible. The beef was really tender, but had an off taste that I attributed to seasonings. The shrimp still had their heads and veins and all, which I know is common, but the poop still grosses me out. I finish with what I want and they keep offereing food. Peter has kept asking me if I like the beef and politely I responded that it was very tender, probably the most like any roast I've eaten in the States. I just haven't been a big fan of the beef here. I feel something has gone wrong and I've been tricked into eating something that I would not have otherwise. So, Blasen unwilling tells me that I have just eaten dog. Yes, D-O-G!!! Man's best friend...I ate him. I just sat there stunned, actually sort-of wanting to cry because I have been fooled into eating something that I did not want. It's happened to me before. On my mission a Bolivian family feed me beef tongue and didn't tell me until afterwards. Actually, the dog tastes better than the beef tongue, but mentally I can deal better with eating a cow tongue than I can a dog. And what makes it worse, is that I let poor little Zade eat dog and he absolutely adores dogs...it's one of the few words in his growing vocabulary. Peter assured me that this was no ordinary house dog, but special dog that you can eat. He doesn't eat just any kind of dog afterall.
The rest of the night I spent trying to settle this in my mind. I felt like I'd been violated in a way. I still can't get over that I ate a dog. Ugh. I did, however, come up with a good comeback for Blasen...I told him that he had dog breath. I finally comforted myself with the dreadful thought that there's no telling what other kinds of mystery meat I've eaten over the years but never told. I could've had cat in some American Chinese restaurant, for all I know. No matter how good it tastes, I just can't say it's okay to eat, what I consider, your house pets. So sorry Buster, Fido, Pokey Lil' Puppy, or whatever your name was...I ate you and liked it, before I knew what you were.