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Thursday, January 15, 2015

Officially Heard It All

Oxford University Press announced yesterday that people should not use words like pork, sausage or bacon so as not to offend Muslims.  They didn't just recommend those words not be used, they actually banned it within their published works.

Muslim Labour MP Khalid Mahmood said:

"That’s absolute utter nonsense. And when people go too far, that brings the whole discussion into disrepute."

What kind of world are we living in when the Muslims are making more sense than the vaunted, elite Oxford University Press.  But it begs the question.

What kind of craven coward do you have to be to even fear naming a barnyard animal thinking that you'll be attacked for it?

Does this mean we can't use the word cow or militant Hindus will attack us?  Oh wait... Hindus and Buddhists tend not to be militant or anything like that.

All I'm saying is that on a playground of 7 year olds, the leaders of the Oxford University Press would be readily recognized as easy pickings and be regularly pummeled and the teachers wouldn't care because social Darwinism does work.

At this point my idea of a typical ProgLib is someone who is in their mother's basement, and is constantly trying to tell everyone how to live their lives while they live off their parents despite their degree in Italian Couplets of the 15th Century, and spend most of their time telling everyone to also be afraid of everything.  They don't care who they offend with their blatant stupidity, but we're supposed to given women's studies majors who falsely accuse an entire fraternity of young mean of gang rape.

Well OUP, you've offended me, a thinking, rational person.  Think I may pay you a visit and show you what happens when I'm offended.  I think you'd be surprised at the reaction of a rational person to bullshit.

Thursday, January 08, 2015


Yesterday was a very weird day.  As I sat watching the news from France with a sangfroid that would shock most people, I wondered at the future.  I'm one of those people who tends to looks back and then ahead when something such as this happens.

You see, when something like 9/11 happens to Americans, the rest of the world sneers and says, "They deserve it, those Americans" and turn away, then prove how wonderful and morally superior they are by welcoming the ones who did something so atrocious.  Even some within this country, Ward Churchill & Jeremiah Wright, were saying it before they'd even cleared any rubble from the WTC.  And, because we're raised, as a nation, to be the better person, we turn the other cheek and ignore it and keep going on. We allow them to bludgeon us with our own virtue.

The next few years in Europe are going to be enlightening to those of us who have shaken our heads and wondered why so many here want us to be just like them.  Because we see the truth.  Barry and his puppeteer, Valerie Jarret will not find Americans so willing to castigate themselves to Islam now.  Because the horrific events in a Paris magazine office proved to us that we were right in not trusting Muslims an inch. Every act, past and future will be magnified under the lens of horrified scrutiny now by a race of people who have spent the past 100 years ashamed of living.  Islam will now have no safe haven within soft targets, and frankly, is there anyone softer than the Europeans?  Have you ever seen any people wo ready to be subjugated, any horror they will not endure to keep from thinking or being responsible for their own lives?

The blow back to Islam will make the crusades look like a garden party.  We have fracking now.  WTF do we need to be nice to the Arabs for?  Why the hell should we be thanking them for the concept of the null set when we explore space? The Saudis quiet support of Wahabism will burn that section of the world down.  Unfortunately, it will take a great part of the South China Sea with it, as they have turned to Islam in their ignorance and poverty. There will be no safe havens.  There will be no peace.  The rest of the world is fed up and they will be intractable and unforgiving.  Doubt me if you will, but in the next couple of years a lot of fed up people will no longer see a need to be silently outraged at having Islam shoved down their throats.  They will start remembering World History classes and find that the Spanish ousted the Moors and that whatever the ineffectual Spaniards could do, we can do better. In fact, I will go further.  I predict that in 50 years Islam will be outlawed in most civilized countries and will find no adherents here in the States.  Not because we change our Constitution, but because we make it very uncomfortable to practice such a hateful "religion" here.

See, when you finally attack the "civilized" folks of France, the liberal world gets upset because they frankly (get it?) consider France the center of all culture in the world.  And when you hit folks in the cultural center, well, they are bound to get a little bent out of shape.  Yes, you can bomb trains in England and Spain and kill artists in Holland, but you brazenly murdered 12 people and a gendarme in broad daylight, while shouting Islamic skreed, so yeah, people are going to get their knickers in a knot.  Even the weak kneed Libs will almost stand up and say in a clear, ringing voice, "Rubbish!  That's not nice!"  And you may even get the brave Elizabeth Warren to shake her fist at you while screaming that you didn't do that.

Frankly, I don't know the retards you whipped into a frenzy to go take out the staff of this magazine, but I've seen their work. Did you idiots finally run out of babies in Lebanon to strap bombs to?  Surely you've got some cowed women in burkas in Paris that you could have strapped C4 to and blown up in the building?  But, you did it with guns.  Did you know that libtarded asshats hates guns more than they hate themselves?  It's why, when they finally can't hide from themselves anymore they shoot themselves.  Yeah, you really should have stuck with C4, it's cheap and easy to make and it's not a gun.  Even though it does more damage than a gun, Libs hate guns more.  You fucked up there.

Hey, I'm just giving you knuckle dragging anachronisms an honest critique here.  Hey, while we're critiquing, how about this picture?
Yeah, love is greater than hate.

Monday, December 01, 2014

The Love of a Grandparent

Very early this morning my former father-in-law passed away.  He had non-alchoholic cirrhosis of the liver and multiple organ failure due to it and had been on life support for the past week while the doctors determined what, if anything, they could do.  My children have been on an emotional roller coaster, and I hurt for them because they loved him and he loved them.  He loved them as only a grandparent can.  Which means they didn't appreciate that love until they knew it would be gone, and they held on to it tightly, because they loved him just as much right back.

I was lucky enough to have all of my grandparents as I was growing up. I spent my formative years around my maternal grandparents who were not the touchy feely type, but taught me valuable lessons.  My maternal grandfather is actually still alive, in his 90s and living in a senility care center somewhere in Idaho.  My maternal grandmother died in the 90s and she taught me so many things about home making.  She patiently sat and taught me to embroider when I was a girl.  She was the one who inspired my love of making things by hand.  It was unfortunate that sewing machines hate me.  I learned to knit and she was thrilled and but she was not into yarn thing. I used to embroider and cross-stitch all the time when my children were little.  It was a cheap way to decorate my home.

My paternal grandparents, they taught me love.  They lived in the San Francisco area and I would visit them several times a year until I was about 15 or so, then it just stopped.  Not because of them, because of my mother.  I didn't realize until after my grandmother died in the early 90s that she had loved me to such a degree that the realization that the person who loved me like that was gone was devastating.  She had a stroke, and was on life support while they waited for my father to finish up a deal in Paris to come home and put the final nail in the plug being pulled.  His feeling was very much, "Well, she's gone already, what's 24 hours?"  Twenty-four hours of watching a loved one linger is a special kind of hell he will never experience because he loves no one but himself.

I could not go to San Francisco because I was pregnant and just diagnosed with what they thought was gestational diabetes.  I was torn up because I couldn't travel.  My youngest daughter is 3 short weeks from her due date and her doctor told her she shouldn't travel to Houston at this juncture.  It's torn her up.  However, her memories of her grandfather will never be tainted by remembering him attached to tubes and hoses keeping him alive.  She will remember him differently than her siblings who spent so much time at the hospital to be with him, so he wouldn't be alone.  I know exactly what she's feeling.  I can tell her that it changes after some time, the guilt that you weren't there at the end.  I don't see my grandmother, in my memories, in a hospital being kept alive with machines.  I always see her, sitting in her chair, clearing her throat as I played the piano for her.

My memories of my paternal grandparents are filled with love and laughter.  I don't think that either of my grandparents were happy in their marriage, but I know they loved me.  The reason I know is that they didn't have a lot of money, lived in California, and yet they made every single visit I made there special.  They didn't lavish me with gifts, they lavished me with love, and I soaked it in like a sponge, holding it dearly until the day I would need to pull it out and keep going on when I was sure I couldn't.  I still pull out that love when I need it.

Both of my grandmothers attempted to make me a lady, when it was obvious to everyone around me that I was just a little too rough around the edges to really do the job properly.  I remember my last trip to San Francisco and my aunt and grandmother taking me to a record shop I wanted to check out.  The clerk there made fun of my Southern accent and assumed I was retarded, so I began cursing him out in perfect French.  French my aunt was sure she hadn't taught me.  My grandmother chided me once we were out of the shop, telling me that ladies don't use that kind of language.  I told her if I ever ran into a lady using that kind of language I'd be sure to tell her that.  I got "the look".  The look that said, "Why do I try?  You just don't want to be a lady!"

Both of my grandmothers were determined that I would be a lady.  It's why I still set the table properly and know which fork to use and exactly where the water glass goes. It why I know the best fabric for place mats and appreciate cotton on a level that only most older, seamstresses can appreciate.  Because of them I love hats.  I can't wear them but I could watch them for days.  Because of them I always feel bad when I eat at my desk or in the living room watching TV. They taught me the art of conversation by encouraging it around the dinner table.  They gave me my mad love for schedules and routine and organization.  Unfortunately, Thank You notes, birthday and holiday cards were a given a miss by my agile mind.  I am looking now for family addresses so I can send out cards.  I also send out cards to my besties from school.

My children chafed at my attempts to civilize them.  They only had two grandparents who cared that they had good manners.  However, I am hoping that my incipient granddaughter will benefit from my being her grandmother in ways she won't appreciate until I am gone.  I know a grandparent's love and I intend that she will, too.  I can love her as I never loved her mother, because I don't have to "raise" her.  I can spoil her as my grandparents spoiled me.  Spoil her with love and showing her things that are still important in this world.  I intend to be Oma who will always bring a smile to her face when she thinks of me, even when she's a teen and would rather die than be around a grandparent.

The love of a grandparent gets us through many situations in life where the love of a parent isn't wanted or appreciated.  Because it's a different kind of love.  It's the love that I pray my children hold close to them now that it's not immediately there, but the memory is really just as good. It will take time before they can remember that love and joy without the sadness of the loss.  I'm here for them, whenever they need it.  They won't appreciate or understand that love until they have children of their own.

I'm patient.  Because my grandfather always took me fishing when I visited and we would go up to the cabin in McCall and spend days on the lake.  I learned it from him.  And it's a happy memory, and I pull it out when I need it.  It will always be there for me.  He made sure of that without ever realizing he was doing it. And THAT is what is so special about a grandparent's love.  They teach us things and we don't realize we're learning.

Saturday, November 29, 2014

Stop It. Stop It Now.

The title for this blog goes out to several groups, but mainly the American "journalists" and the black community race baiters.  If you are confused about who they are, watch the news.  They spend a lot of time telling each other how morally superior they are for not being racist, "like everyone else".

I'm not going to go on about the riots in Missouri.  I think everyone in the world has had enough of that stupidity.  Instead, I will explain, in great detail why everything the media and the rioters in Ferguson have done to ruin race relations and why.  The current regime in power in DC and the media want so badly to have something significant happen in this administration and all they have done, with their typical ineptitude, is solidify all the negative stereotypes they say bigots have.

As Helen Mirren told Byung-hun Lee in the movie RED 2, show me something.

The lies, speculation and just abject story building that went on in this case are stupefying.  Supposedly the media are supposed to be about objectively reporting what they see, and yet they've taken to creating narratives for someone else.  In this case that someone else was in Washington DC and that someone wanted race riots so they could stand up and say, "OMG!  Americans are so racist!" and they could have a Selma moment with Obama walking down the street with Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton for all the newspapers.  Except there is one fatal flaw no one behind an editors desk seems to have considered.  I thought you told us that Barak Obama's election made this Post-Racial America.  I mean, I can show you the news stories and broadcasts if you wish to deny it.  I have a whole list of them saved in a favorites folder called "Hypocrisy".  Would you like to see them?

Now, this special message goes out to the thugs in Ferguson, who were not of Ferguson, but were bussed in to make it look good on the nightly news.  (Those poor gang bangers from Oakland looked so damned cold, don't you think?)

You have done nothing to promote any idea of a peaceful coexistence of races in our country.  In fact, I think you insulted barn yard animals and some protozoa.  You have done more to harm race relations by living out every fear and stereotype put out there by the real racists than anything they could have ever klukked up and a rally.  By your ability to be able to wait in Ferguson until the Grand Jury No Billed Darren Wilson, you showed that you have no legitimate employment and are in fact, nothing more than welfare chugging thugs who sit around looking for a fight or something to steal. Thanks so much for being ambassadors for your race.  I hope you know that Martin Luther King, Jr. is probably spinning in his grave over how stupid and manipulated you have allowed yourself and your community be.  Think about it for a moment.  You let someone like Al Sharpton, not the brightest bulb on the Christmas Tree, foment hate and discontent when all evidence pointed against it, so you could froth at the mouth and scream what they tell you while you ruin businesses in a neighborhood that really could not bear the cost of it.  But that doesn't matter, you get to go back to your neighborhood in Oakland.  Thank God the local convenience store remains open for you to rob next time you want a 40 and your EBT is maxxed.

For those of you in Ferguson who joined in and especially to the "father" of the young man who was tragically killed when he decided to attack a police officer.  You all talk about your neighborhood and your community that you love so much and how badly you need jobs.  Well, when you burn down the shops and buildings people aren't likely to rebuild.  Ask anyone in Watts and South Central LA.  How much do you want to be that Taco Bell or drug store doesn't rebuild in that spot?  What if all the shops and stores do the same?  Ferguson will be a ghost town, a Starnesville in a year.  I guarantee it.  How can I do that?  Never underestimate the predictability of stupidity.

To Michael Brown's parents who lost their son.  Perhaps if you had raised the boy correctly he would not have grown up to be a self-entitled bully who would strong arm rob a bodega owner for some freakin Swisher Sweets and then attempt to shoot a cop with his own gun after a day spent smoking pot.  Your son was a thug and you probably didn't even care or attempt to stop him because he was good at sports and you were waiting for your NFL Payday for having created the behemoth.  Now, the ONLY reason you're crying is that the payday ain't coming and ain't ever coming.  So now you cry to the cameras in the hope that it pays out for you, as it is for so many people surrounding this tragedy.

Your son was not a gentle giant.  Stop saying it.  Stop it now.
Your community is obviously not worth having if you want to burn the bitch down.  Stop it.  Stop it now.
Black lives have meaning.  Remember that your next trip to the abortionist.  Get a freakin' IUD.  I'll value your life just as soon as you do.  Stop it.  Stop it now.
Black on Black crime is more prevalent than White on Black crime.  Stop acting like you aren't killing each other en masse and I'll stop acting like you're not a life form unworthy of a presence on my planet. Stop it.  Stop it now.

Respect yourselves and your community enough to want to save it, preserve it and PROMOTE it.  Burning it down serves no purpose other than for others to observe you and shake their heads and think, "Well, I guess they really are that way."  Stop promoting every damned negative stereotype of your race.  Show that you are better than that.  Stop playing the victim.  The only victims in this whole situation are a police officer and the boy he shot while protecting himself.  All evidence points to that and not even 3 autopsies could find a way around the facts the media so wanted to distort.

Stop letting yourselves be used.  Stop it. Stop it now.

Thursday, November 20, 2014

If You Ignore It, It Becomes A Part of Your Life

I remember the first time I heard the saying, "If you ignore it, it will go away."  At age seven I called my grandmother on that bullshit.  I pointed out that it doesn't go away, it keeps coming back because you don't do anything about it.  In the 43 years since I have seen nothing to make me change my opinion and almost daily affirmation that I'm quite right. And it's not because I want to see it, it's because it's really there.  I live consciously and encourage those around me to do the same.

The fact that we continue to throw this phrase at new generations despite all evidence that it's beyond stupid to even think it amazes me on a level that rarely gets outraged.  In fact, I would term it child abuse in the worst sense.  You're asking a kid to take the beating everyday and stay quiet.  That makes YOU complicit in the bullying.  In point of fact, it makes YOU the bully.

Three years after my grandmother uttered those awful words I had a chance to put my theory in action.  There were a few girls at the Indian school I attended who thought it was fun to tease the lone white girl in our class.  They made my life miserable for the first couple of months of class because I knew fighting would get me in more trouble than they would see because I was the lone white.  Yes, even in 1975 I was aware that reverse racism was alive and well in America.  When one tried to choke me behind a tree at recess I punched her in the face and slapped her bullying pal.  They both started crying and running to the teacher, threatening dire things to a ten year old.  Both of my teachers had seen the bullying but wisely decided to allow me to find my own way.  Not only did I not get in trouble, but hostilities ceased and one of those girls wound up being my bosom buddy for the school year.

Don't mess with me.

When I was allowed to call my grandmother, long-distance, and regale her with my tale, she shuddered in horror (yes, I could hear it) and told me I should not have been fighting.  Ladies don't fight.  I told her that the girls no longer bothered me and other kids who had been taking a page from the bully's book had stopped teasing me as well, she told me that Indians were savages and would kill me in my sleep.  Too many Westerns, that was my Gran.  Nothing would convince her that confronting a problem would make it go away.

Ignoring anything does not make it go away, unless it's something you love, then benign neglect will make it disappear for sure.  Doubt me?  Ignore your significant other and see where that gets you.

No one ever triumphed by sticking their head in the sand.  In fact, all they did was leave their asses up in the air, ready to be kicked by reality in a winner take all Karma match.

Confrontation just to be confrontational is also stupid.  I let a lot of things slide because I simply cannot care enough to work up any steam.  Veganism.  Don't care.  Could not possibly care less.  The only passive-aggressive way I lash out is to go to Vegan restaurants and order a rare steak with asparagus with Hollandaise sauce with a nice Creme Brulee for dessert.  They expect Steak & Ale to serve Vegan friendly meals when I take them out, why shouldn't I get a little of my own back?  I've shown them I know exactly which game they're playing and that not only do I know it, I can play it better than they do.  Because I play to win.

I've never seen a bully stop bullying because their victims ignored them.  I've never seen a collection agency give up because their calls went unanswered.  In fact, they just get worse because they are like the Psycho in Fatal Attraction, they will NOT be ignored.  I will also let you in on a little secret, this is from whence my self-confidence flows because I know I won't be bent over the table and take it up the tailpipe without lube because I'm too scared to speak up for myself.  It's why people leave me alone when they look for a victim.  I don't know how to be a victim, so I am not one.  Because I value myself enough to stand up for myself.

And that is the real message we are teaching children when we tell them that ignoring something makes it disappear.  We are teaching them that they are not worth standing up for.  Think about that the next time you use the hateful phrase in the presence of an impressionable mind.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Busy Bees

I have been writing, just not my blog.  The second book of the Instruments of Wrath series should be ready by the end of the year.  Yay!  Gareth's story gets to be told, and it's pretty awesome. How he's managed to stay sane and good is anybody's guess.

Been playing World of Warcraft again.  Started shortly before the big patch and expansion.  Got to know and love my toons again. Slaughter is wholesale in the new Draenor.  My huntard is now my favorite toon to run.  She just kills everything.  My mage is still a glass cannon, but I love her.  I've played her from beta on up.  It's an interesting new twist, this new expansion.  Thing I love most?  Garrisons.  Reminds me a lot of Warcraft 3.  Thing I hate the most?  No flying in the place we first learned flying mounts.  It simply does not make sense that you lose that skill since a new regime took over.

So many good books have been coming out lately.  Nalini Singh is a one woman workhouse of great novels.  Also, Ilona Andrews new series is just spell-binding, almost literally.  Burn for me has kept me rapt in the few moments I have to read before falling into a coma.  The dogs get me up early these days.  They don't know from time changes.

We're down to the last few weeks before my youngest gives birth to our first grandchild.  We're told it's a girl and due on December 23.  They told her this week that she will most likely have a C-section as the baby is very large and my daughter is very small.  They will know for sure on her next visit when she gets one last ultrasound.  Her husband is a big guy, too.  He was premature and still over 8 pounds, so they're pretty sure Annalise will be big, too.  She's going to be the cutest baby, ever.  That's already known to be true.

The holidays are coming up, and I should have figured it out when my husband and sons went grocery shopping and came home with stuff to make cookies.  I'm pretty sure I should smack all of them and make them cook.  But then again, there isn't enough money in the world to hire someone to clean up after they've been in the kitchen.

Apollo is getting into the holiday spirit.  He's begun howling at passing trains and sirens he hears.  I am trying so very hard to capture it on video.  He's really beautiful to watch so I just stand there, awestruck, and listen to the beauty of his call.  I miss Sam's howling out in the yard when she'd hear a train.

I hope all of you are enjoying your fall.  It's been a great, cold week here.  Found out we probably need our chimney cleaned out and have schedule some duct cleaning as well.  You never know until you start your furnace or build a fire, right?

Sunday, October 05, 2014

Animal Adoption Pros and Cons

I have a long and glorious tradition with animal safety.  I have always had a dog, with the exception of the 3 years after my dog Ragnar died.  I have sometimes had cats.  I have always had a cat in the past 17 years.  With the exception of Whistler, who ran off to a better home down the street (the cat picks you) I've had most of my pets nearly their entire lives.

We adopted our first dog, a White GSD, King, shortly after our son died.  I just happened to see the ad in the paper for "free to a good home" and "based on current owner approval".  I visited the dog, so did my husband the next day and in a week we had won the lottery.  Evidently a lot of people visited King, who had unreal stranger anxiety, and never really bothered to try to communicate with the dog in terms he could understand.  King attached himself to our youngest daughter, Jasmine, and became friends with our other GSD, Sasha.  King made Lassie look fickle when it came to Jasmine.  He would howl after she left for school, and would camp out at the door ten minutes before she was due home. God forbid she stay after school or go to a friend's house.  He would be inconsolable.  We got King when he was 7 (so was Jasmine) and he died when he was 13, shortly after we moved into our new house.  Jasmine was inconsolable.

Zeus after his last runner

After our GSD Sasha died my sister-in-law found a German Shepherd running loose on her land out in the wilds of Bosque County, Texas.  She called my husband who said he couldn't take him.  I had had a dream the day before that I had called the breeders of Sasha to see if they had any more litters and that we had picked out a male this time.  The GSD in question was a male, I took it as a sign.  We drove an hour out to her place and picked up the dog who was immediately named Zeus, due to his thundering bark.  He had a lop ear and was obviously used to being outdoors. And, sadly as we came to discover, had been physically abused.  We got him to the vet immediately, got him de-wormed, and his shots, but for some reason, I think it was the worming treatment time (over several weeks if no months) we did not schedule his neutering.  He kept getting out.  The local Animal Control guy got used to our calls and would either call us if he was sighted and we'd go grab him and bring him back or, on two occasions, bring him to us.  He was scheduled for the neutering, and the day before the appointment he climbed out over the wisteria on your fence. We found him that afternoon and brought him home. First thing the next morning he was fixed. He associated these two events and has never, left the yard without permission ever since.  That was over 3 years ago and our running mutt has been the best teacher of boundaries yet.

Gimli sleeping

A few days after last Christmas my husband drove me to the office and there was an orange tabby kitten outside the door.  It was freezing (literally) out, wet and there was something wrong with its eyes.  I picked the beast up, put him in my husband's truck and told him to take it home, feed it, clean it and make a vet appointment.  I also told him the cat would be named piano, since he'd promised me a piano in lieu of a cat the year before.  Gimli, as we named him, had bronchitis, was severely malnourished and had an eye infection that the vet thought might be feline herpes.  He also had healing broken bones.  My heart absolutely broke when my husband called to tell me what the vet had told him.  We spent thousands of dollars getting him well.  He was four months old, but about as big as n 8 week old kitten.  His eyes, which almost constantly water, had been frozen open.  I still nearly burst into tears when I think of his condition when we found him.  He's now fat, neutered and the naughtiest of all cats or kittens.  He's love beyond the bounds of sanity by everyone in the house, including the dogs.  Well, Mika... Mika likes him as much as she can like another cat which means she only hates him a little bit.

Just before my birthday this year I saw some stories about a dog in a local park that the Waco Animal Control had been trying to catch for 2 years.  He was the last of a wild dog pack that had been running in the area of Cameron Park.  They had finally gotten him.  He was extremely skittish and to say he has issues with humans is grossly under-reporting his neuroses.  But when you consider the dog was probably chased a lot, you may understand his wish to just be left alone.  I went up to the shelter and brought my dog Zeus with me.  Zeus is a big, dumb, goofy dog, but he's a great ambassador for human-dog relations.  Apollo sniffed a couple of times at Zeus but there was no doggie play or interaction.  The next day I took Sam and Schaub up, as they are very calm-submissive and I wanted to see their energy in play with Apollo's.  It was a good visit and Apollo even took some treats for me.  My husband came up to see him as well and we decided to adopt him.  For my husband it was his desire to have a wolf, and Apollo looks very wolf-like, but is, in fact a Husky mix of some kind. For all I know he could ba a hybrid, but without genetic testing he's just a dog to me and the city in which I live.

Apollo with Ron Ostrom of the City of Waco Parks Department
 Apollo has been our most difficult rescue to date.  He constantly escaped or attempted to escape at first.  The last time he jumped the fence I was in the front yard and he just came and led me back inside.  To realize how amazing this is you have to know how hard he has been about integrating within the pack.

He has always treated our other dogs as if they were suffering Stockholm Syndrome or cult brainwashing.  He looked at them as I imagine POWs look at collaborators.  He didn't trust them, thinking they had sold out and was constantly looking for a way out.  After Sam died right in front of him, he became very withdrawn, to the point where I was seriously worried.  Turns out it was because he was so very sick.  He had Sarcoptic Mange and a staph infection due to all the scratching and he was severly underweight. He also has Stage 2 Heartworms.  It really hampered the vet when treating the mange, so, what normally took a few weeks, took 2 months to cure.  It also didn't help that Apollo had gained enough weight so that the antibiotics for the staph were nearly ineffective.  We got hold of the staph just by increasing the dose of antibiotics and continued with his horrible sulphur baths.  But then came the diagnoses that he was clear and we could begin to treat the heartworms.  He's healthy, gained weight back plus some now, and we're on track. Also, thousand of dollars in care so far with thousands more predicted.  This is not a cheap "hobby".

But, here's the thing, he's accepted the dogs, and is now truly a member of the pack, even though he and Zeus constantly jockey for beta position.
Zeus and Apollo fighting for superiority
  But, he refuses to accept the men in the house as being part of the pack.  He's afraid of them and become extremely anxious when they come near "his" spaces. We thought, at first he was growling because of me, but his spaces and my spaces are nearly almost always the same since he is glued to me inside the house. The men of my household are typical men and got all butt hurt and whined about a dog not liking them.  Oh Boo-freakin-hoo! The dog spent most of his life (all for all we really know) being chased around a park by young men who were either trying to catch him or throwing things at him, all the while, screaming and yelling at him.  What kind of complex would have with the male of the human species after years of that?  Now, men think they invented reason and the universe, their inability to accept my theory as to why the dog is leery of them is proof positive that they would still be living in caves eating raw lima beans if not for women.  Also, the fact that they totally abdicated all care of the animal to me once in the house is also proof that perhaps there should be a bounty on them.  I care for him, so naturally he loves me.  I give him food!

For all that being said, I will most likely continue to "find" animals that need a good home and attempt to care for them as best I can.  Only if I can afford it.  That's my line in the sand.  It's why I'm not a Crazy Cat Lady.  I can stand the two cats I have.  I love the three dogs in my home.  My youngest son is currently looking to rent a home or duplex with a fenced backyard so that he can take his Beagle Schaub into a good home environment.  He's also told me that if he finds the right place he wants to take Zeus with him.  I'm OK with that because I know that Zeus loves Schaub and Clint, in that order.  If I truly though Clint would let them out back and only remember them when a neighbor reported the smell of decomp, then I'd say, leave them here.  But, Clint loves both dogs so much.  I care for them via feeding, bathing, shots, etc., and I'm pretty sure I can nag Clint into that as well. Clint needs something to care for. Call it therapy if you will. Also, he knows he can bring the mutts over here if the weather is bad or it's too hot or cold to leave them out.  I'm a sucker.

When that time comes I will have to consider getting another dog because Apollo is very much a pack animal and too playful to stay in the backyard when bored. Again I will look to a local animal shelter.  Not because of any unearned moral superiority, but that's because that's where the dogs who need good homes are.  I will most likely get another large breed dog or mix because that is what I'm used to.  But basically, I will pay my $50 and get another dog. Because, that's basically all you have to do at the local shelter.  At least that is what I thought until I went to look at Apollo.

Apollo had a little local celebrity going on and so many people came up to the shelter just to look at him. The first day I went to meet him, no less than five people walked up to the enclosure inquiring about him.  They would just come and look at him and perhaps regale me with a story of how they once thought they saw his tail at the park.  So are you going to adopt him?  I asked.  Oh, no, I just came up here to see him.

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?! Same thing with a woman who came up and said she set him loose in Cameron Park to begin with.  Shelter volunteers asked if she wanted to adopt him.  No, she just wanted to see him again.

Holy Hannah on a swizzle stick, people!  REALLY?

Then on the second day of my visits I talked to the shelter staff.  They said that mine was the only application they were considering because I appeared to be the only "serious" contender.  I did and still do find that nearly impossible to believe. I changed his name from the one the local paper and the shelter gave him.  I spoke with one reporter after we got him, Stephanie Butts, at the Waco Trib was great.  She was also great in helping us get him back after his first big prison breakout.

If you seriously want to give an animal a good home, look at your local shelter.  If you're not serious but feel you need to do something, donate to your local shelter.  Buy food or blankets, dog dishes, leashes, collars... ANYTHING that helps their bottom line and may help them become that beacon on the hill, A No Kill Shelter. Sponsor an adoption for people that want an animal but that $50 may be the difference between groceries that week. (But seriously, if you can't afford that $50 adoption fee, you can't afford the animal, just sayin').  It's all tax deductible. If you can't have a pet where you are, but need your animal contact fix, volunteer at a shelter.

Now, let me say this, and this is the most sincere you will find me on just about any subject.  DO NOT ADOPT unless you really mean forever for that animal.  The park where Apollo lived is a drop off point for so many unwanted animals.  Some still have their cute little collars on them when they are picked up.  (I look at the pictures folks, I always look). It breaks my heart.  Those dogs were in a family where they loved people and people did this to them.  Trust broken in that manner is very hard to win back, which is why so many dogs are taken back to the shelter.

Pets are not vanity or status symbols.  Stop it. Stop it now.  When that puppy or kitten grows up and it no longer so cute and the messes ickier to clean up, then tossed into a garbage dumpster or left on a country road or parking lot is where they end up. Then picked up by animal control and if not found or adopted, they are put to sleep.

Get your animals neutered.  For the love of GOD!  How stupid do you have to be to not get this?  Why on earth do they do free feral neutering?  Do you honestly think the world needs more mutts or kittens no one wants?

Now, I shall touch the third rail of pet ownership.  GET THEY PET MICRO-CHIPPED!  In every municipality in my county they require proof of rabies vaccination, neutering and micro-chipping before you can get a license for your pet.  If your pet is not out there recklessly making more unwanted pets, then they can easily get them back home to you with a simple scan over the neck once they are picked up.  Many times, especially if your pet is not a frequent flier, they will bring your pet back to you.  I know, from personal experience, our local animal control used a rabies tag number to track down the owner who lived a street over from me.  One of them had learned to open her front door that morning.  But she got her animals back and they were very relieved.

The city does have the right to tell you to get your dog fixed when they are forced to increase expenditures every single year because of irresponsible pet breeding.  If you're not breeding pedigree dogs then your pet should be neutered.  It's best for them because if they're not fixed they spend in inordinate amount of time trying to breed and then they don't live as long, and aren't they already with us such a short time as it is?  Our local shelter made a rule that the cities had to mandate micro-chipping as an easy way to return pets to their owners so that the shelters did not become over-crowded and family pets euthanized as a result.  The city I live in began mandating that this year, it was the last in our county to do so.  I can see every reason for it.  There is not reason not to do it.  You can find clinics just about any weekend in any area with low fee (usually around $10) chipping, then you pay a service to keep your pet registered.  I registered Apollo for a lifetime for just $40, but it's worth it to me.  I know that if Apollo ever gets the need to try to wander again, that, if he's found, I will get him back.

If you just don't give a shit and can barely care for yourself much less another being, then perhaps you should just buy a goldfish or beta and watch it die.  Don't get a dog to just throw it in the backyard thinking it will protect your home.  What kind of fucktarded asshat would do shit like that? Surely no one in East Waco, right?  Right?

Don't breed what you can't feed goes for pets as well as spawn.  Whether through circumstances or malignant narcissism, just don't do it. When you can take care of you, then you can take care of an animal.

We have a responsibility to these animals that we have domesticated and made dependent upon us for their food and shelter.  They pay us back with so much love and loyalty it really does humble me to think about it.  Sure, it's cute as a puppy (as my neighbor's son is now discovering) and then it grows into a big animal that you still have to feed and walk and get shots for and have fixed.  They are not inexpensive.  Neither are kids.  If you can't afford another kid you can't afford a dog. Dogs require just a much attention as human children.  They need to be fed, cleaned, played with and just loved.  If you cannot afford the food, don't get the dog.  If you can't afford the shots or basic vet care, do not get the animal.  If you think irresponsible breeding of your animal is cute but never know what to do with the puppies or kittens except guilt co-workers into taking them (and then they abandon them) then perhaps a firing squad should be in your future.  If you balk at paying for the chipping and registration of your pet so that they don't get lost and then euthanized, then perhaps not even a goldfish is for you.

I have a follower on Apollo's Facebook page who does not get my approach to pet adoption.  I'm a big supporter of pet adoption, but only to people who seriously get what having a animal companion is about. Like the people who came up just to look at Apollo at the shelter, to get some backwash off the shine of his "celebrity" and the ones who just wanted to adopt the "famous dog".  It's why I was not happy with the animal shelter giving Stephanie Butts my contact information.  But I realized good PR for Apollo was good PR for the shelter. And Stephanie was great to talk to.  She'll be a great reporter in the right market.

So I want people to adopt animals, but I want them to be smart about it.  First thing we have to do is reduce the number of domesticated animals being bred outside of homes.  Feral programs are finally starting to show some good results, but it's an endless cycle because human being are irresponsible or try to attribute animals with human feeling and conditions.  So I suggest to ANYONE who wants to buy or adopt any animal that they first have to volunteer at a local shelter for one week.  No classes, just for say, 8 hours within a week, the shelter signs off and then you can legally adopt an animal.  Because if you can ignore, neglect, or abandon your animal after that short of a time spent there, then you should be shot as soon as you're identified.  Or at least euthanized like the animal you left to die.  You're inhuman and don't deserve to waste our precious oxygen.

Here endeth the lesson.  Adopt, but do it responsibly.  Just like everything else in life.