The Brendan Disturbance

 

I watched Canine Intervention on Netflix last night.  The “Lady McBeth” episode. The episode features a formerly homeless encampment residing three-legged pit bull who had lost the fourth during a shooting incident with her previous owner.  Brendan of Venice Beach, the new owner, reported she was overly protective to the point she bit anyone but him that came near.

I suppose having your previous owner and yourself shot, might cause a bit of trauma. It took about five seconds of video to realize Lady McBeth was just scared. She had a hard upbringing and was out of her element. Giving away the entire plot of the episode, the dog trainer (Jas Leverette) took Lady away for some in depth training to San Jose. (Though all the area shots seem to be of San Francisco and the upper bay. But let’s not let 40 miles and less spectacular views and architecture get in the way of cinematic presentation.) Two weeks later (and six or seven shots of the Bay and Golden Gate bridges) she returned a well-adjusted hopping pit bull ready for running on the backstreets in a neighborhood where a starter two-bedroom bungalow will set you back $3 million. Cute Cinder dog show complete with dog magician.

Now I was a bit disturbed by this episode. Mainly because of Brendan. He himself is not remotely disturbing. He’s perfect. Clearly in the upper one percent of the population in articulate presentation, grooming, perfect teeth, lean body mass and exactly trimmed 10-day old beard. Not a gray hair on his head. His home was adorned with expensive contemporary custom designed furniture with all options. His front door was probably $15K.  You could tell the guy doesn’t have a moment where he’s turned off. He should be running something big. At the end of the show his co-worker, Michael, from “the business” makes a cameo to pet Lady, and he’s perfect too.

Perfect in a slight variant way from Brendan. All the above Brendan features with a wholesome mid-western cuteness. Too cute in fact. --He was cute.  Why am I dwelling on this? Fuck, I am jealous of these guys.

As I was watching the show my own lack of cuteness jealously raged like Lady’s defensive nips, I start to wonder about the authenticity of Brendan and Michael. Are they models, actors cast into a reality show for sex appeal? But knowing a few people who produce and write for reality shows, I decide not.  I am left with the problem, who the fuck are they?  Princes from some unnamed European kingdom?

I remarked to someone later that night as we smoked cigars and sipped expensive go-to whiskey on the back porch in San Francisco SOMA neighborhood where condos set you back $2-3 million, that B & M reminded me of tech sales people or the occupants of the C-Suites in Silicon Valley. I may have made some comment about those people being a bit fluffy in the head. Jealousy again.  B & M were obviously not fluff brains.

This morning I decided not having the backstory on B & M was too much to tolerate and I put my Google skills to work.  The good people at Netflix saw fit not to have a full cast list of the episodes of Canine Intervention.  So, I had to go back and pull first names off the episode from the sub-titles in the B & M introduction scenes and capture their images on my phone. An image and name string search on Google determined Brendan Wallace is the CEO of a venture capital fund he started.  He went to Princeton and Stanford. Michael New,  the co-worker is chief of staff at “the company.”  He went to Harvard.  The ridiculously high end at ease presentation skills and confidence fell into place.  I was at peace with myself. I was at peace with B & M.  In the process I noticed Brendan maintained an Instagram page for @ladymacbeththedog.  I followed her.  I do think pits are cute and I want to know if Lady Macbeth lives happily ever after with her prince Brendan.  Who I am now at ease with.  Seriously, even though I had to write two pages about him to get over my disturbance.