I turned 40 this year – which meant that 3 of my closest friends from high school turned 40 as well and that meant celebration.
We chose our celebration to be a week long stay in Ft. Lauderdale – kind of the spring break we never took together. And back when we went to spring break – Ft. Lauderdale was the place to go.
Two of my friends that went (Kelly and MaryKate) have been my bestest friends for 30 years. We lived in the same neighborhood and have been friends since we were 10 (yep, 40 – 30 = 10 – good math). There isn’t enough room in this blog or probably in cyberspace to detail the things we have done together.
I mean when you are friends with two girls who have seen you through puberty all the way to premenopause – truly – what on Earth could they have missed?
My other friend who went, Joanna and I met in high school. And, to be perfectly honest, well, we really didn’t hit it off so well.
She became my best guy friend’s girlfriend so you can imagine how this went. I was jealous of her for spending time with him and she was jealous of me for knowing him so well. We even had a “cat fight” at my locker one day. Yeah – it wasn’t good.
I am not sure at what point things took a turn for the better – but I know by the time I got married she was one of my bridesmaids and I was one of hers. And, Mike, well neither of us talk much to him anymore.
Joanna lives in Michigan and MaryKate lives in Spain – so our normal method of communication is email. And even though Kelly and I live about 40 minutes apart – we, too, rely on the internet.
However, for 6 days we all shared a beautiful suite overlooking the ocean. It really was an amazing place. (Nope, no 20 year old chicks chugging beer with guys on the beach like I imagined spring break to be) But, none the less – it was ideal.
We had nights in – where we talked for hours and stuffed our faces with pizza and beer. And we had nights out that were down right crazy.
Karaoke one night… where Kelly couldn’t have been more in her element. I believe Guns and Roses’ song, “Sweet Child of Mine” won her an encore performance – not to mention a video and more than likely a shot at youtube. And we stunned ourselves when we didn’t get home until 5am!
Club dancing another – where we brought down the house and made friends with the DJ.
We found time in between drinks to enjoy the spa (where, thankfully, they served champagne).
And we sat at the pool and soaked up the sun.
And, what kind of girls’ trip would it be without some shopping?
Yep, we did it all and we had a blast doing it.
But, truly the take away (besides the 4 pounds that I gained) was 6 amazing days of being close with three people who know you unlike many others. Three people who have seen your heart get broken and watched you lose all that post baby weight.
And, I think another wonderful thing about being on a trip with friends at 40 – is that you are 40. You are confident with who you are. Its not about anything but the moment you are in. You walk around in your bathing suit without feeling self-conscious – Hell, half the time (okay not half- some) practically naked in the hotel room getting ready… I actually can recall days gone by when we couldn’t even change our clothes in the same room – let alone let someone walk in when we are showering.
Yes, the scenery was beautiful and the weather sunny and hot – but the true beauty of the vacation was the time we got to spend together. Time we can never take back and never re-create.
20 years ago we had endless nights and days together – days that I guess we took for granted. So, when you get 6 uninterrupted days with such close friends – that is what you treasure most about a vacation like ours.
It was hard to say goodbye and watch MaryKate get on the plane to Spain so very far away – and it was hard to hug Joanna and know that I probably won’t see her for many months… (It would be hard to say goodbye to Kelly but I know that if we ever really needed to we could have lunch on a moment’s notice)
But, the last few days have been hard. There is something unique about living with your girlfriends. Going to bed talking and waking up talking. (yes, this would be a guy’s nightmare) but when you have your girlfriends right next to you – where you can ask for reassurance or make a total ass of yourself and still feel loved – that’s a magic you don’t get everyday.
I have already lost that 4 pounds and sadly, I have lost that time with my friends.
Sure we have facebook to re-live the fun and email to offer each other comfort but nothing makes up for not being together. There is a quote, “Don’t be sad its over, be grateful that it happened.”
I am very grateful.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Monday, September 26, 2011
Tails: I believe in karma
I am a horrible person. I am.
I actually reveled in a person’s injury yesterday. Smiled when I heard about it on the news. Raised my arms and waved them like when I cheer for my daughter’s soccer team.
I could not have been more elated.
Michael Vick, Philadelphia Eagle’s star quarterback, the one they signed for 130 million dollars broke his arm yesterday.
What utterly gratifying news.
No, it wasn’t quite as good as it could have been. He broke his right arm not his left and he is a lefty QB – but it is my hope that his return is doubtful.
I don’t know where to begin really. But I do believe in karma.
Vick whined on TV last night – crying that people are out to get him… the refs don’t call roughing the passer like they would on other QB’s. That they treat him unfairly and allow him to get injured.
BOO HOO!
How on Earth can anyone feel one ounce of sympathy for a dog killer – and not just one dog – many dogs and not humanely – he strangled them, he beat them, he shot them.
Forgive me for reveling in his injury – but does he really feel he doesn’t deserve the punishment?
He violently hurt helpless dogs – they didn’t have helmets or pads – and they certainly never blamed their injuries on the refs.
Quite frankly, I praise the players who go after him with a vengeance. I even praise the refs who perhaps might just look the other way. Someone needs to make him pay for what he did – certainly no one else has.
So, I believe in karma – not just how it has come back to bite Vick in the ass (pun kind of intended) but how it is killing the owners and coaches of the Eagles.
Shame on them for giving such a “jerk” a second chance. (I wanted to use another word – but I refrained)
Now as they watch their 130 million dollars flash before their eyes and their hopes of winning a superbowl go down the toilet, I smile.
In fact, I laugh.
There is one group of people I do feel sorry for: the players on the Eagles who never got to voice their opinion. I am certain there are a few on the team – who despise Vick for what he did – but now they are stuck with him.
And maybe I feel a bit sorry for any Eagles fans – who love their team but hate cheering for Vick.
Vick suffered a concussion last week and now a broken arm – how can you not believe in karma?
I actually reveled in a person’s injury yesterday. Smiled when I heard about it on the news. Raised my arms and waved them like when I cheer for my daughter’s soccer team.
I could not have been more elated.
Michael Vick, Philadelphia Eagle’s star quarterback, the one they signed for 130 million dollars broke his arm yesterday.
What utterly gratifying news.
No, it wasn’t quite as good as it could have been. He broke his right arm not his left and he is a lefty QB – but it is my hope that his return is doubtful.
I don’t know where to begin really. But I do believe in karma.
Vick whined on TV last night – crying that people are out to get him… the refs don’t call roughing the passer like they would on other QB’s. That they treat him unfairly and allow him to get injured.
BOO HOO!
How on Earth can anyone feel one ounce of sympathy for a dog killer – and not just one dog – many dogs and not humanely – he strangled them, he beat them, he shot them.
Forgive me for reveling in his injury – but does he really feel he doesn’t deserve the punishment?
He violently hurt helpless dogs – they didn’t have helmets or pads – and they certainly never blamed their injuries on the refs.
Quite frankly, I praise the players who go after him with a vengeance. I even praise the refs who perhaps might just look the other way. Someone needs to make him pay for what he did – certainly no one else has.
So, I believe in karma – not just how it has come back to bite Vick in the ass (pun kind of intended) but how it is killing the owners and coaches of the Eagles.
Shame on them for giving such a “jerk” a second chance. (I wanted to use another word – but I refrained)
Now as they watch their 130 million dollars flash before their eyes and their hopes of winning a superbowl go down the toilet, I smile.
In fact, I laugh.
There is one group of people I do feel sorry for: the players on the Eagles who never got to voice their opinion. I am certain there are a few on the team – who despise Vick for what he did – but now they are stuck with him.
And maybe I feel a bit sorry for any Eagles fans – who love their team but hate cheering for Vick.
Vick suffered a concussion last week and now a broken arm – how can you not believe in karma?
Monday, September 19, 2011
Tails: No “Vick”tory last night
Yesterday morning I was quick to throw on my Green Bay Packer gear in preparation for Sunday football. Our family bleeds green and gold and Sunday is always the day to show it off.
We spent kick-off at Abby’s soccer game (in the rain) but managed to get to a bar by 1:30 to watch the Pack score their way to a win. All in all a good day.
But, amazingly, the real game for me came Sunday night when the Atlanta Falcons took on the Philadelphia Eagles. Some people might not understand the magnitude of the game so hear it is… Michael Vick the now quarterback for the Eagles used to be THE quarterback for the Falcons – in fact he was such THE QB that he had a 130 MILLION dollar contract. Don’t quote me but I think the HIGHEST paid QB ever.
That’s all fine and good and maybe at the time he deserved it… But fast forward and well, it turned out Michael Vick was a scumbag and was convicted of felony dogfighting charges and sent to prison for 2 years.
Some may say so what (shame on you). But, the real story lies in the gory details of what Vick and his cousin and other low-life friends did. In fact, I just finished Jim Gorant’s (Sports Illustrated Senior Editor) book, “The Lost Dogs” which details the story behind the Vick tragedy.
Michael Vick and a few others got together and started a professional dog ring. He bought a house and built a few back barns and bought dogs and raised them to fight. Mostly, when you read the book, he raised them to die. Because Vick’s dogs weren’t winners and when they lost they died – either by a hanging or a beating or a bullet to the head. And they were buried in the backyard.
For some death was actually a blessing. Others were bred in rape stands – some females even had their teeth removed so they couldn’t fight back. Other dogs were left on chains in the backyard to fight the elements and be left to helplessly fight in the ring.
The scene is out of a horror movie. Even for a seasoned animal rescuer – there are moments in the book that made me cry.
In 2007, a drug warrant allowed police investigators into the home and when they found the traces of dogfighting – the real investigation began. They found the equipment, the chains, the dead bodies and lots of blood throughout the property.
The local authorities stalled (probably for political reasons) so the feds stepped in and within months Vick was convicted. His cronies were fast to turn on him.
But, the real story comes after – all the dogs who were left. It was the first time that dog fighting dogs would not all be euthanized. The case was too big and the stakes too high. Animal welfare organizations from all over stepped in to save them.
That is except for two organizations, PETA and HSUS who felt the best bet was to euthanize the dogs.
Instead about 30 of them were saved. Gorant’s book details the lives of each of the dogs and where they are now.
It wasn’t easy – some dogs managed to spring back into life – but many of them were so afraid, so broken that it took months, even years, to rehabilitate. The scars, both physical and emotional were so deep.
All because of a Vick – the 130 MILLION dollar star quarterback.
Once the allegations were proven true – the Atlanta Falcons fired Vick – and later, of course, he would go to prison. He was also required to pay for the care of the dogs as restitution.
After 22 months of prison – Vick emerged a “changed” man. (Give me a break). And lo and behold, the Philadelphia Eagles thought it was worth giving him a chance.
And this year, after his phenomenal return they signed him for 100 million dollar contract making him the only QB in history to get TWO 100 million dollar contracts.
Shouldn’t America be proud? Rewarding a convicted criminal for heinous activity. Inhumane behavior – true cruelty.
Its obvious I have my issues with the NFL, the Eagles, VICK… I hate that man – and I tend NOT to use hate lightly.
So, last night as we turned on the Sunday night game and the Falcons took on the Eagles - I have to admit that I cheered louder than I did for the Packers. See, yesterday was Vick’s first return to his starting team – Atlanta. The team that gave up 130 million dollars when they realized they employed a true criminal.
There were boos and cheers for Vick’s return – probably a few wished horrible things like I did as I watched.
But, I did watch the game – with my heart and soul. Each sack – each interception Vick threw. And yes, call me vindictive but when Vick got hurt last night I could only think of it as karma – the dogs’ retribution.
I wish the Eagles a losing season. Its too bad for the other good players on the team – but how on Earth can any goodhearted person cheer for a team that employs a killer?
And even though every game day I will throw on my green and gold and cheer for the Packers – my soul will be wearing the colors of whatever team Vick is playing.
And the dogs he killed will be looking from above wagging their tails every time he gets sacked. They deserve at least that.
We spent kick-off at Abby’s soccer game (in the rain) but managed to get to a bar by 1:30 to watch the Pack score their way to a win. All in all a good day.
But, amazingly, the real game for me came Sunday night when the Atlanta Falcons took on the Philadelphia Eagles. Some people might not understand the magnitude of the game so hear it is… Michael Vick the now quarterback for the Eagles used to be THE quarterback for the Falcons – in fact he was such THE QB that he had a 130 MILLION dollar contract. Don’t quote me but I think the HIGHEST paid QB ever.
That’s all fine and good and maybe at the time he deserved it… But fast forward and well, it turned out Michael Vick was a scumbag and was convicted of felony dogfighting charges and sent to prison for 2 years.
Some may say so what (shame on you). But, the real story lies in the gory details of what Vick and his cousin and other low-life friends did. In fact, I just finished Jim Gorant’s (Sports Illustrated Senior Editor) book, “The Lost Dogs” which details the story behind the Vick tragedy.
Michael Vick and a few others got together and started a professional dog ring. He bought a house and built a few back barns and bought dogs and raised them to fight. Mostly, when you read the book, he raised them to die. Because Vick’s dogs weren’t winners and when they lost they died – either by a hanging or a beating or a bullet to the head. And they were buried in the backyard.
For some death was actually a blessing. Others were bred in rape stands – some females even had their teeth removed so they couldn’t fight back. Other dogs were left on chains in the backyard to fight the elements and be left to helplessly fight in the ring.
The scene is out of a horror movie. Even for a seasoned animal rescuer – there are moments in the book that made me cry.
In 2007, a drug warrant allowed police investigators into the home and when they found the traces of dogfighting – the real investigation began. They found the equipment, the chains, the dead bodies and lots of blood throughout the property.
The local authorities stalled (probably for political reasons) so the feds stepped in and within months Vick was convicted. His cronies were fast to turn on him.
But, the real story comes after – all the dogs who were left. It was the first time that dog fighting dogs would not all be euthanized. The case was too big and the stakes too high. Animal welfare organizations from all over stepped in to save them.
That is except for two organizations, PETA and HSUS who felt the best bet was to euthanize the dogs.
Instead about 30 of them were saved. Gorant’s book details the lives of each of the dogs and where they are now.
It wasn’t easy – some dogs managed to spring back into life – but many of them were so afraid, so broken that it took months, even years, to rehabilitate. The scars, both physical and emotional were so deep.
All because of a Vick – the 130 MILLION dollar star quarterback.
Once the allegations were proven true – the Atlanta Falcons fired Vick – and later, of course, he would go to prison. He was also required to pay for the care of the dogs as restitution.
After 22 months of prison – Vick emerged a “changed” man. (Give me a break). And lo and behold, the Philadelphia Eagles thought it was worth giving him a chance.
And this year, after his phenomenal return they signed him for 100 million dollar contract making him the only QB in history to get TWO 100 million dollar contracts.
Shouldn’t America be proud? Rewarding a convicted criminal for heinous activity. Inhumane behavior – true cruelty.
Its obvious I have my issues with the NFL, the Eagles, VICK… I hate that man – and I tend NOT to use hate lightly.
So, last night as we turned on the Sunday night game and the Falcons took on the Eagles - I have to admit that I cheered louder than I did for the Packers. See, yesterday was Vick’s first return to his starting team – Atlanta. The team that gave up 130 million dollars when they realized they employed a true criminal.
There were boos and cheers for Vick’s return – probably a few wished horrible things like I did as I watched.
But, I did watch the game – with my heart and soul. Each sack – each interception Vick threw. And yes, call me vindictive but when Vick got hurt last night I could only think of it as karma – the dogs’ retribution.
I wish the Eagles a losing season. Its too bad for the other good players on the team – but how on Earth can any goodhearted person cheer for a team that employs a killer?
And even though every game day I will throw on my green and gold and cheer for the Packers – my soul will be wearing the colors of whatever team Vick is playing.
And the dogs he killed will be looking from above wagging their tails every time he gets sacked. They deserve at least that.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Tails: Puppy Mill Awareness Day
Tomorrow, Saturday, September 17th is "Puppy Mill Awareness Day."
To many people this might not mean much. But to people like me and dog's like Thorp and Penelope - it couldn't mean more.
Each year THOUSANDS of dogs are kept in tiny wire cages mass bred for petstores across the United States. Each year thousands of unknowing consumers flock to these stores and pay thousands of dollars to take home a cute puppy they saw in the window. And each year, hundreds of these puppies die in the first few months because they are sick. Sure the pet store will reimburse you or exchange the dead pup for a new one - but what does that say? A dog is no different than a broken TV?
This week an email was sent around - a true reason to celebrate Puppy Mill Awareness Day... Petland in Canada has decided to stop selling puppies due to the perception of Canadian consumers! This is a huge step for dogs everywhere. And my utter praise to Canadians for getting their point across and ending the misery for many dogs across the continent.
However, Petlands in the US have not taken this approach because not enough US people are complaining or protesting their stores. It is only until we say we have had enough - will Petland US make the same retail decision.
You have seen it on the news, read it in the paper and overheard "crazy dog" people gossiping about those puppy mill places... Its not gossip. I saw it with my own eyes - and I rescued two dogs who lie next to me as a type this to prove it.
Please take a stand on Saturday - get the word out - share with your neighbors. And if you are feeling really brave - walk into your local petshop that sells puppies and ask to see where they came from - ask them about puppy mills and watch them squirm. Sure they will lie about where the dogs come from BUT if enough people keep pressuring them - they will, just like the stores in Canada, crumble.
At the very least - take your own dog for a walk tomorrow. Allow him a day to enjoy on behalf of the thousands of dogs crammed in barns - with only distant thoughts of a warm bed, a dog treat and family to love.
Petstore puppies are victims and their parents who sit in filth indefinitely are prisoners to a life they never asked for. My favorite quote is, "The greatness of a nation can be judged by the way its animals are treated."
- Mahatma Gandhi
If you are looking for a puppy or a dog - thousands are available at breed rescues and local shelters - many are mill survivors - who like Thorp and Penelope will give you love unlike any other dog you have owned.
Please adopt don't shop for your next pet: www.petfinder.com
Monday, September 12, 2011
Tails: Free to Good Home
Hardly the case these days.
I have spent the last 5 years immersed in animal rescue work. And I say that with the understanding that I have been “rescuing” animals all of my life. From caterpillars to frogs to strays and birds. But, for the last 5 years I have found myself amongst many wonderful people doing what they can to save that one last dog or cat from euthanasia or an abusive situation or a puppy mill on an Amish farm.
I have learned a lot about it all. I even learned the difference between “animal welfare” and “animal rights.” But, saddest of all, I have learned that no matter how many of us there are – there will always be an animal without a home.
But, what is a home for a pet? Can you define what one would like? Should it be 3000 square feet or can it be a trailer. Should the pet live outside or have its own 4 poster bed with silk linens? Should the pet have good ole Purina Chow or should it be served fresh ground meat and rice three times a day. Does it need a diamond studded collar or will a black nylon collar from a thrift store suffice? Can the owner work 8 plus hours a day – or should they be home with their pet? Will children be allowed? What ages? Should the pet be an only child or can it grow up with other pets of many species?
Its crazy, right? To decide what is right and what is wrong – but the saddest truth of all is that there are hundred of rescues out there deciding for everyone what makes a good home – and while I would bet my life they take these decisions to heart and only want to find the best home for the pet – I also firmly believe that they are losing hundreds of potential adopters every year.
There once was a time when a sign outside a window read, “Puppies Free to Good Home.” Now that signage is so long and the requirements so outlandish that they take 5 pages to fill out and of course $$$.
Recently I overheard a conversation of two men: one talking about his desire to get a Doberman. He looked into good breeders but on average he would pay $1500 or more. So, he thought he would try a few rescues. In his words, “It was a bunch of bullshit the crap they wanted me to fill out. And, then they informed me that they had the right to come to my home whenever they wanted to see the dog!”
He went on to explain to his friend that he just couldn’t bare to jump through all of those hoops. So, he had turned to Craigslist and found some backyard breeder who had 15 breedings dogs and could get a pup for $500. He knew, he said, that it wasn’t an ideal situation but he also knew he couldn’t afford $1500 and he didn’t have the time or the patience to write a book about why he would be a good home for some rescue group to read. Though within the conversation I eavesdropped on, the man described that the dog would have 5 acres to roam, it would be “king of the castle” and it would undoubtedly sleep in his bed.
Its hard for me to accept this truth – that rescues are pushing people to backyard breeders and, potentially, god awful petstores… I can say nothing but that I have lost my own patience for their tactics.
A fellow rescue friend is a volunteer for a Shih Tzu rescue. I watched her rescue the smallest, frailest, shih tzu at an Amish auction once. A little dog who was basically about to die had no one stepped in. She saved that dog’s life. I couldn’t be more proud to know her.
I rescued a Shih Tzu at another auction. A little dog who had had 6 litters of pups in 4 years. She was tired and sick. We call her Penelope and she lives amongst our three other dogs and our three other cats, she plays with our friends’ kids ranging in age from 3-12 and on occasion sits with our grandchildren who are each a year old.
I mention this because based on these facts my friend’s rescue would never be able to adopt to me. The cats might scratch the Shih’s eyes out, the kids would be too rough and you shouldn’t have a toddler with a little dog.
I am not disputing the possibility of any of these things happening – of course, they are all possible – but what I can say without hesitation is that Penelope flourishes in our home. She lays with the cats, plays ball with the kids and snuggles up to my grandkids as they play on the floor.
Had Penelope been rescued by my friend’s organization, I could have never adopted her. How sad would both our lives be?
Recently, on one of the platforms I am on – a rescuer was questioning an applicant because of the vet they chose and, I guess, that is what got me on my soapbox, that, and the man I listened to at lunch (it all happened on the same day).
I “eagerly” replied that I think this has all gone too far. With millions of dogs and cats without homes – aren’t we getting a little picky – a little too snotty to be so judgmental of individuals who, for the most part, want nothing more than to add a furry friend to their family? That, bless their hearts, they decided to try rescue – only to find that they need to reveal everything about themselves and, hell, throw in their first born to make a deal.
The group I am talking about shares the availability of dogs coming from the mills The mediator of the platform posts when millers have dogs available whom they don’t want anymore – she states what day they are going to the mill to get which dogs and hopes that some of the members of the group will offer to take the dogs in.
Horribly, there is not always room for someone to add a dog. And a few weeks back one of the 10 dogs was going to be left behind. Someone did come forward – but it leads me to beg the question – are we really in a position to be so demanding – turning away decent homes because they aren’t “perfect” enough – not to mention trashing the whole concept of rescue by making people believe its more like signing your life away then it is about finding a pup to love.
My response was not well received by some of the members. And I have grown only more angry and frustrated. In a country filled with uncertainty and a poor economy – and way too many homeless pets does it really matter what vet someone goes to – isn’t it just satisfying to know that they go to a vet?
I could hold my emotion back no longer and sent this email:
I would rather rescue 100 dogs and place them in average homes than only rescue 5 and place them in perfect homes. And, I think if you asked any abused, neglected, puppy mill or stray dog they would say that they would rather have an okay home than no home at all.”
So much for “free.”
I have spent the last 5 years immersed in animal rescue work. And I say that with the understanding that I have been “rescuing” animals all of my life. From caterpillars to frogs to strays and birds. But, for the last 5 years I have found myself amongst many wonderful people doing what they can to save that one last dog or cat from euthanasia or an abusive situation or a puppy mill on an Amish farm.
I have learned a lot about it all. I even learned the difference between “animal welfare” and “animal rights.” But, saddest of all, I have learned that no matter how many of us there are – there will always be an animal without a home.
But, what is a home for a pet? Can you define what one would like? Should it be 3000 square feet or can it be a trailer. Should the pet live outside or have its own 4 poster bed with silk linens? Should the pet have good ole Purina Chow or should it be served fresh ground meat and rice three times a day. Does it need a diamond studded collar or will a black nylon collar from a thrift store suffice? Can the owner work 8 plus hours a day – or should they be home with their pet? Will children be allowed? What ages? Should the pet be an only child or can it grow up with other pets of many species?
Its crazy, right? To decide what is right and what is wrong – but the saddest truth of all is that there are hundred of rescues out there deciding for everyone what makes a good home – and while I would bet my life they take these decisions to heart and only want to find the best home for the pet – I also firmly believe that they are losing hundreds of potential adopters every year.
There once was a time when a sign outside a window read, “Puppies Free to Good Home.” Now that signage is so long and the requirements so outlandish that they take 5 pages to fill out and of course $$$.
Recently I overheard a conversation of two men: one talking about his desire to get a Doberman. He looked into good breeders but on average he would pay $1500 or more. So, he thought he would try a few rescues. In his words, “It was a bunch of bullshit the crap they wanted me to fill out. And, then they informed me that they had the right to come to my home whenever they wanted to see the dog!”
He went on to explain to his friend that he just couldn’t bare to jump through all of those hoops. So, he had turned to Craigslist and found some backyard breeder who had 15 breedings dogs and could get a pup for $500. He knew, he said, that it wasn’t an ideal situation but he also knew he couldn’t afford $1500 and he didn’t have the time or the patience to write a book about why he would be a good home for some rescue group to read. Though within the conversation I eavesdropped on, the man described that the dog would have 5 acres to roam, it would be “king of the castle” and it would undoubtedly sleep in his bed.
Its hard for me to accept this truth – that rescues are pushing people to backyard breeders and, potentially, god awful petstores… I can say nothing but that I have lost my own patience for their tactics.
A fellow rescue friend is a volunteer for a Shih Tzu rescue. I watched her rescue the smallest, frailest, shih tzu at an Amish auction once. A little dog who was basically about to die had no one stepped in. She saved that dog’s life. I couldn’t be more proud to know her.
I rescued a Shih Tzu at another auction. A little dog who had had 6 litters of pups in 4 years. She was tired and sick. We call her Penelope and she lives amongst our three other dogs and our three other cats, she plays with our friends’ kids ranging in age from 3-12 and on occasion sits with our grandchildren who are each a year old.
I mention this because based on these facts my friend’s rescue would never be able to adopt to me. The cats might scratch the Shih’s eyes out, the kids would be too rough and you shouldn’t have a toddler with a little dog.
I am not disputing the possibility of any of these things happening – of course, they are all possible – but what I can say without hesitation is that Penelope flourishes in our home. She lays with the cats, plays ball with the kids and snuggles up to my grandkids as they play on the floor.
Had Penelope been rescued by my friend’s organization, I could have never adopted her. How sad would both our lives be?
Recently, on one of the platforms I am on – a rescuer was questioning an applicant because of the vet they chose and, I guess, that is what got me on my soapbox, that, and the man I listened to at lunch (it all happened on the same day).
I “eagerly” replied that I think this has all gone too far. With millions of dogs and cats without homes – aren’t we getting a little picky – a little too snotty to be so judgmental of individuals who, for the most part, want nothing more than to add a furry friend to their family? That, bless their hearts, they decided to try rescue – only to find that they need to reveal everything about themselves and, hell, throw in their first born to make a deal.
The group I am talking about shares the availability of dogs coming from the mills The mediator of the platform posts when millers have dogs available whom they don’t want anymore – she states what day they are going to the mill to get which dogs and hopes that some of the members of the group will offer to take the dogs in.
Horribly, there is not always room for someone to add a dog. And a few weeks back one of the 10 dogs was going to be left behind. Someone did come forward – but it leads me to beg the question – are we really in a position to be so demanding – turning away decent homes because they aren’t “perfect” enough – not to mention trashing the whole concept of rescue by making people believe its more like signing your life away then it is about finding a pup to love.
My response was not well received by some of the members. And I have grown only more angry and frustrated. In a country filled with uncertainty and a poor economy – and way too many homeless pets does it really matter what vet someone goes to – isn’t it just satisfying to know that they go to a vet?
I could hold my emotion back no longer and sent this email:
I would rather rescue 100 dogs and place them in average homes than only rescue 5 and place them in perfect homes. And, I think if you asked any abused, neglected, puppy mill or stray dog they would say that they would rather have an okay home than no home at all.”
So much for “free.”
Friday, September 9, 2011
Truths (Tails): 24 hours of ups and downs
Aaah – I think yesterday was the first day of what was to be normal since Abby went back to school. First we had my stepdaughter’s wedding and then the clean-up that came after that, then we left for San Diego for our grandson’s 1st birthday, I spent the first days back clearing out my office so I could once again get a fresh start working on my book… And truthfully, I think I needed to take control of my life in some small way…and then yesterday…
Aaah but yesterday turned out to be full of ups and downs…
(Down) it started with an emergency trip to the vet because Sadie had an ulcerated wound right where they found the cancer. We did xrays and luckily (Up) the cancer has not spread to her lungs and (Up) they decided not to do another biopsy. We are going to treat the wound with antibiotics first and hope it heals. Otherwise (Down) it could be the return of the cancer.
(Up) Thorp went back to school yesterday. We got to see all of the kids and they were so excited to have us back. At one point we were playing with a new little girl and (Down) she wanted to play petstore and I would come to buy Thorp. I know this was an innocent act of pretend play but I couldn’t help but gulp to myself. Knowing where Thorp came from and the mills that I saw – playing petstore with Thorp seemed like a cruel irony. Why on Earth couldn’t she have suggested I adopt him from a shelter?
(Up) One of the contractors came to bid part of the remodel job. He was really nice and I think he will do a good job. He didn’t quote yesterday but (Down) I am certain it will be a lot!
(Up) As I was actually working on my book and looking through files for agents who might have an interest – I found one, Gordon, who I couldn’t help get excited about. He looked like a really laid back kind of guy and best of all – he had an interest in nonfiction dog books! My heart raced and I swore fate had intervened. So, I typed up my query and with the blessing of my best friend and writing colleague I hit the send button. My stomach was in knots. Kelly said it could be up to three months before I would hear from him. How would I ever wait that long when I was already on pins and needles?
(Up) To sidetrack my anxiety, I put on my Packer shirt and Bill and I ordered pizza and sat down to watch the highly anticipated Green Bay Packers versus the New Orleans Saints game – the first official kick-off of the NFL season! And (Up) the Packers won! But, I have to admit, (Down) I fell asleep before the end.
(Down) I woke up this morning and as always checked my email and there was one from Gordon. Gasp! But, in a polite way he said, “Sorry, this does not fit my list at this time.” Sigh… My first rejection. And I am sure there will be more. I can’t lie it hurts. To have this idea you have poured your heart into – this passion that led you to write in the first place… and to hear, for the first time, its not a fit… It stings a little.
But… (Up) I don’t feel defeated. I can’t. Hell, I just re-did my office to get back in the groove and I took my first shot. I wrote a query I am sure I can use again and overall, I am better for all of it.
That’s my last 24 hours. People sometimes wonder what us people who don’t work for a paycheck do… and I think that a day like yesterday is pretty typical for most of us.
Today the roller coaster starts again.
Aaah but yesterday turned out to be full of ups and downs…
(Down) it started with an emergency trip to the vet because Sadie had an ulcerated wound right where they found the cancer. We did xrays and luckily (Up) the cancer has not spread to her lungs and (Up) they decided not to do another biopsy. We are going to treat the wound with antibiotics first and hope it heals. Otherwise (Down) it could be the return of the cancer.
(Up) Thorp went back to school yesterday. We got to see all of the kids and they were so excited to have us back. At one point we were playing with a new little girl and (Down) she wanted to play petstore and I would come to buy Thorp. I know this was an innocent act of pretend play but I couldn’t help but gulp to myself. Knowing where Thorp came from and the mills that I saw – playing petstore with Thorp seemed like a cruel irony. Why on Earth couldn’t she have suggested I adopt him from a shelter?
(Up) One of the contractors came to bid part of the remodel job. He was really nice and I think he will do a good job. He didn’t quote yesterday but (Down) I am certain it will be a lot!
(Up) As I was actually working on my book and looking through files for agents who might have an interest – I found one, Gordon, who I couldn’t help get excited about. He looked like a really laid back kind of guy and best of all – he had an interest in nonfiction dog books! My heart raced and I swore fate had intervened. So, I typed up my query and with the blessing of my best friend and writing colleague I hit the send button. My stomach was in knots. Kelly said it could be up to three months before I would hear from him. How would I ever wait that long when I was already on pins and needles?
(Up) To sidetrack my anxiety, I put on my Packer shirt and Bill and I ordered pizza and sat down to watch the highly anticipated Green Bay Packers versus the New Orleans Saints game – the first official kick-off of the NFL season! And (Up) the Packers won! But, I have to admit, (Down) I fell asleep before the end.
(Down) I woke up this morning and as always checked my email and there was one from Gordon. Gasp! But, in a polite way he said, “Sorry, this does not fit my list at this time.” Sigh… My first rejection. And I am sure there will be more. I can’t lie it hurts. To have this idea you have poured your heart into – this passion that led you to write in the first place… and to hear, for the first time, its not a fit… It stings a little.
But… (Up) I don’t feel defeated. I can’t. Hell, I just re-did my office to get back in the groove and I took my first shot. I wrote a query I am sure I can use again and overall, I am better for all of it.
That’s my last 24 hours. People sometimes wonder what us people who don’t work for a paycheck do… and I think that a day like yesterday is pretty typical for most of us.
Today the roller coaster starts again.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Truths: Double Edge Sword
For years now, I have perused magazines – seeking out my dream house- cutting out pictures and painstakingly pasting them into scrapbooks. (This is my idea of scrapbooking…Abby’s baby pictures are piled up in an armoire waiting for me to have this kind of ambition)
I have a whole book filled with fireplace mantels and stair railings and built in bookshelves… Pages, lots of pages, of dream kitchens. And if that isn’t enough – I have pages dedicated to paint colors and furniture pieces even that art to hang on the walls.
I spend hours watching HGTV and have tivo’d shows that portray what I want…one day.
Yes, it has all been in the hopes of one day…
And, that one day has come!
Could I be more excited to see my house turn into my dream home? The oak trim out, the larger white baseboard and 6 panel white doors installed… the built-ins and the window seat and new flooring. And my absolute favorite – my large garden window over my sink. (new sink).
The pages I have created are about to become my reality. Talk about the need to pinch yourself to make sure you aren’t dreaming.
But, apparently, someone pinched me last night.
The contractor and the carpenter came last night to really start putting my dreams on my paper – to start planning out the phases and the materials and all the stuff it takes to make a page in a scrapbook become a bookshelf in your family room.
And after 2 hours – or was it 3 hours – reality struck. (at least the first reality… we will get the quote for the job in a few days and I am sure that will be a “I am not dreaming anymore” moment as well).
But it was when the Roger said something like, “The whole place is pretty much going to be torn up. If you want to keep any of the light fixtures you should take them down. Anything in the rooms is going to have to be moved. The closets will have to be emptied to re-case the doors and re-trim. We are going to have to hammer in some holes to see what is in the walls. Things are going to get messy.”
And Bill said, “I really don’t think she has any idea what this is going to be like.”
And, I guess, I didn’t.
I just pictured the old magically going away and the new being gracefully installed. No dust – just one day I walk into my house and realize that my scrapbook has come to life.
I am pretty sure that Christmas, this year, will be a small tree in the basement or a celebration at the cabin. The 50 snowman I have won’t be making an appearance and the stockings won’t be hanging on the mantel.
I have always lived by the mantra, “Good things don’t come easy.” The relationship with my husband didn’t come easy – we survived many stumbling blocks and ill will towards us…the writing of my book hasn’t come easy – things that mean so much to me – have never been smooth roads and why on Earth would this be any different?
Bill and I survived a nightmare remodel at our cabin – if it could go wrong, it did – but in the end we have this amazing place that we created and I believe that this transformation will be just as worthwhile (hopefully, without the nightmare).
I woke up this morning looking at my bedroom. Everything in its place. I walked down to the kitchen (and the ugly cabinets I hate) and saw the neatness… and I couldn’t help but take a deep breath and realize all of that is about to change.
My everyday quiet is about to turn into hammering and sawing and dust – lots of dust.
But, the hope is that when it all settles – I can throw away the scrapbook and actually live in my own pages…
I have a whole book filled with fireplace mantels and stair railings and built in bookshelves… Pages, lots of pages, of dream kitchens. And if that isn’t enough – I have pages dedicated to paint colors and furniture pieces even that art to hang on the walls.
I spend hours watching HGTV and have tivo’d shows that portray what I want…one day.
Yes, it has all been in the hopes of one day…
And, that one day has come!
Could I be more excited to see my house turn into my dream home? The oak trim out, the larger white baseboard and 6 panel white doors installed… the built-ins and the window seat and new flooring. And my absolute favorite – my large garden window over my sink. (new sink).
The pages I have created are about to become my reality. Talk about the need to pinch yourself to make sure you aren’t dreaming.
But, apparently, someone pinched me last night.
The contractor and the carpenter came last night to really start putting my dreams on my paper – to start planning out the phases and the materials and all the stuff it takes to make a page in a scrapbook become a bookshelf in your family room.
And after 2 hours – or was it 3 hours – reality struck. (at least the first reality… we will get the quote for the job in a few days and I am sure that will be a “I am not dreaming anymore” moment as well).
But it was when the Roger said something like, “The whole place is pretty much going to be torn up. If you want to keep any of the light fixtures you should take them down. Anything in the rooms is going to have to be moved. The closets will have to be emptied to re-case the doors and re-trim. We are going to have to hammer in some holes to see what is in the walls. Things are going to get messy.”
And Bill said, “I really don’t think she has any idea what this is going to be like.”
And, I guess, I didn’t.
I just pictured the old magically going away and the new being gracefully installed. No dust – just one day I walk into my house and realize that my scrapbook has come to life.
I am pretty sure that Christmas, this year, will be a small tree in the basement or a celebration at the cabin. The 50 snowman I have won’t be making an appearance and the stockings won’t be hanging on the mantel.
I have always lived by the mantra, “Good things don’t come easy.” The relationship with my husband didn’t come easy – we survived many stumbling blocks and ill will towards us…the writing of my book hasn’t come easy – things that mean so much to me – have never been smooth roads and why on Earth would this be any different?
Bill and I survived a nightmare remodel at our cabin – if it could go wrong, it did – but in the end we have this amazing place that we created and I believe that this transformation will be just as worthwhile (hopefully, without the nightmare).
I woke up this morning looking at my bedroom. Everything in its place. I walked down to the kitchen (and the ugly cabinets I hate) and saw the neatness… and I couldn’t help but take a deep breath and realize all of that is about to change.
My everyday quiet is about to turn into hammering and sawing and dust – lots of dust.
But, the hope is that when it all settles – I can throw away the scrapbook and actually live in my own pages…
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