Friday, September 30, 2016
Before I became a judge, while I was on the mortal side of the River of Life, I was known as the best dog attorney in seven counties. My instinct to protect innocent dogs accused of crimes will be never be abated.
This is why I find Dog Shaming websites abhorrent. Parents act as prosecutor, judge, and jury: They find their dogs guilty and publicly shame them. I am here do defend them.
Here is my first client:
Apparently, there was poop on the bed. With no DNA testing, it is impossible to determine who pooped. Of course, the Mom said the dog did it. She would not want to admit she pooped on the bed. The proof is in the note. “Then I tucked it in.” How does a dog tuck in poop? Dogs don’t make beds. Dogs unmake beds. Also, the dog is “Not Sorry.” We dogs are always sorry even if we did nothing wrong, except if we are falsely accused. Finally, the dog has a treat bone. What human gives their dog a treat bone after pooping on the bed. Obviously, we must find this dog innocent.
This is my second client:
Check out the wording. “I ate Mommy’s Brand New Shirt!” Not just Mommy’s shirt but brand new shirt. Why are the words “brand new.” I think the mommy tore her shirt, and she tried to return it but did not have a receipt. In an attempt to get a new shirt she showed this picture to the woman at the store hoping her dog’s confession would lead to her getting a new shirt. My client will not be a party to fraud.
Presenting client number three:
No one likes a dog that is outside barking, even though it is not the dog’s fault. It should not be outside. Be I am only interested in the innocence of my client. They say you should squirt a barking dog with water to quiet him down. Well my client doesn’t have a water bottle but does have a penis. He is trying to train the barking dog and make the neighborhood more peaceful. At least his dad has a sense of humor.
My fourth client:
How does a dog steal from the trash? It is trash. Once it becomes trash, you have given up all your rights to the property. He simply removed the Wasabi from the trash. You don’t want him eating Wasabi then make sure you eat it all. There are starving children in Alaska who would love Wasabi.
Remember dogs; I am always here for you.
Thursday, September 29, 2016
DEAR MEMBERS OF BLOGVILLE: I MANAGE A SITE FOR DOGS CALLED THE TANNER BRIGADE. BECAUSE OF PROBLEMS WITH THE NETWORK THAT HOSTS THE SITE WE ARE LOOKING FOR A NEW HOMES. IN THE BELOW BLOG I LIST BECOMING AN INDEPENDENT BLOGGER AS AN OPTION. IF YOU COULD PLEASE, IN THE COMMENT SECTION, LEAVE A MESSAGE ABOUT WHAT YOU DO OR DON'T LIKE ABOUT BLOGVILLE IT WILL BE GREAT APPRECIATED. THANK YOU.
Oh boy! When Foley left me in charge of the Tanner Brigade she said it ran itself. But now the only place it is running itself is into the ground.
Plus, I received word last month, that starting in July 2017, the price is going to double. I didn’t say anything. I wanted to do this year’s fund raising, which went very well, and then worry about next year when it comes. But how do I ask twice as much for a site that doesn’t run. Oh boy! I am biting my paws down to the nub.
And the company that owned Ning, Mode, collapsed and was bought out by another company. Hobo and Enzo investigated the new owners and found out they are just one guy who buys sites from companies that are going bankrupt and then sells them. Until they sell them they have not interest in making the site better! Oh boy.
So what should we do? My piece of advice is to save all your pictures, and, if you want, blogs that you have posted. I don’t expect Ning to go away with no notice but I can’t guarantee it. Being forewarned is forearmed. I just remembered, dogs don’t have forearms. Oh boy!
I am not as smart as Enzo, or Hobo, when it comes to money, but I don’t think we should spend more money on a site that we can’t use now. I know we have built a lot of memories on this site, but we all have to move sometime and unless the site improves we may have to give thought to moving.
I know we have a lot of members but, but my count, there are only 38 of us that are contribute content. That is about the same amount when we started. I have some solutions.
One is to stay on Ning. We still have a site here so we don’t have to do anything right away. Maybe things will improve it a new buyer comes along.
The second is to go to Blogger. There are good things and bad things about Blogger.
The bad things: Every member would have to set up their own individual page. We would not be under the name Tanner Brigade. You would only have your blog page. You would have to go to someone else’s page to post a comment. There aren’t any pages for photos, events, or chat.
The good things: There is a great blogger community that does what we do and more. I am sure I could set up blog pages that we would all have access to and create the church page, or other group pages. You can set up more than one blog for your account so people with multiple dogs could have multiple pages. It is free. You will get an email whenever someone who is your friend posts something or adds a comment to a blog. And it is owned by Google so it is not going anywhere and I have been on it for seven years and it has never gone down.
The third is to go to a new site hosted by https://www.socibd.com/.
The bad things: It is a pay site, $25.00 a month for the cheapest, and I don’t know what that site comes with. Also it is owned by a group like Mode and we could have the same problem. I think we collected enough money to pay for twelve months at $25.00 a month.
The good things: It is set up the same as Ning so there would not be a learning curve. The transition would be easier. It is also private. There is a 14 day free trial with the Socidb site so a few of us could try it and see if we like it.
Enzo had also sent me several sites to investigate. One, calls, Spruz, is very similar to Socibd. It it free for a small amount of users so we could also test that sites.
I am also still investigating other sites Enso sent me.
So, my friends, let me know what you think.
Let me know what you think about staying here, or going to Blogger, or a new site. I will try to answer any questions you have.
I know I can do this.
Wednesday, September 28, 2016
Mournful Wednesday. This is a picture of Pocket with a Willow Tree treasure keepsake box sent to me from my very good friend Vicki Tankersley. Lea Blankenship contacted me a short time ago to tell me that Blazer's Mom Vicki had passed away. She was found in her home with the love of her life her recently adopted poodle Rusty. Vicki had many health issues in the last ten years. She was kind, compassionate, supportive and incredibly generous. She leaves behind two estranged siblings. We were her family. She is reunited with her Blazer at Rainbow Bridge. She will be missed
Tuesday, September 27, 2016
Sunday, September 25, 2016
I realize that many of my friends begin reading this blog, and, when they realize they do not know the pup being honored, they stop reading.
Do not stop reading.
Because not only did many of you not know Lexi, the Schnauzer, I did not know her either. I wish I did. I would have been so much better off if I had. And so would you.
First, Lexi was a therapy dog: She took care of patients at nursing homes, physical rehab centers, and her favorite, the children’s hospital where she brought the little munchkins the most valuable gift: Smiles.
Second Lexi was an actress. She played Toto in several productions of the Wizard of Oz. She was a real star.
And lastly, Lexi was a church dog. She was the official dog of her church, and that was very cool, but I am saving the reason why that is so cool for the end of the blog. As a blogger, Lexi would understand why I am saving it until the end.
Lexi is one of the many independent bloggers who makes up the community known as blogville. They are a very creative group. They had their own Olympics. They even have their own mayor. This year a new mayor will be elected, and Lexi was running for this important position.
But, as often cruelly happens, life interrupted. Lexi began vomiting, and her mom took her to the vet where they found the same terrible problem they found when I went to the vet. Large tumors in our lungs. The tumors made her pre-existing kidney issues worse. She stopped eating. Her quality of life suffered. Her mom made the decision to send her to the Bridge. Being an exceptional dog, Lexi bypassed the swearing in ceremony and went straight to the Big Guy himself.
In Blogville, to celebrate the life of a friend who has gone to the Bridge, pups publish pictures doing the new Angel’s favorite activity. Lexi’s was eating treats. So pups posted pictures of them eating treats. How perfect a dog is that? To celebrate her life, she wanted her friends to have treats.
Now, the really cool part. As I mentioned, Lexi was a church dog. The members of the church, being delightful people, decided to have a full memorial service for Lexi. I know none of us want to leave our parents, and go to the Bridge, but wow, a full memorial service. Talk about shattering the glass ceiling.
And it was live streamed so all Lexi’s friends could attend. And if they couldn’t the video was uploaded to the Internet. You can see it here.
Lexi does leave behind her broken hearted parents, the patients she will no longer be supporting, and her church members. We must do what we can to help them through this terrible time. And there will never be a better Toto.
Those who knew her would say there will never be a better dog.
Now, if you excuse me, I am going to do what I should have done when I was mortal, get to know this bright, shining star.
Friday, September 23, 2016
Once again I have been studying the humans who study the dogs. No humans are more interesting than the ones who study us, and, except for weathermen and sports radio hosts, no one is wrong more than scientists who study dogs.
In an Emory University study of 13 dogs, researchers found that, when given a choice of being praised by their owners or receiving food, most of the dogs either preferred the praise or appreciated both equally.
Please, don’t get me wrong, we love the love. There is nothing we crave more than our parent’s love. But we want the damn treat. We can get love anytime. We can get love on the street if we are desperate. But treats are rare gifts. So give us the damn treat.
Think of it like this: Someday the apocalypse will come. You people will run out of food and have to hide inside from the crazy freaks ruling the streets. We dogs will be able to slip in and out. We will catch a large rabbit and bring it back to our house where you are starving. We will start to eat the rabbit right in front of you. You will say “can you please share that rabbit with me,” and we will say, with a full mouth, “no but you may have all my love.”
We don’t want you to substitute treats for love, but we don’t want you substituting loved for treats either. Everything in balance.
Part of this study had to do with scanning our brains. Stop scanning our brains. There is not a hell of a lot going on up there. There is the love part of our brain, the food part of our brain, the chasing vermin part of our brain, and the sleep part of our brain, and we are still using more of our brains than humans do.
We dogs need to concentrate on improving the part of the human brain that gives out treats and decrease the part of their brains that want to scan our brains.
Now humans, go give your dog a treat.
Thursday, September 22, 2016
I love my birds. We have dozens of them living in our trees. When I come outside, they sing to me. It helps ease the tension and is conducive to helping me do my business.
We have several feeders scattered around the yard to reward the birds for their beautiful singing and warm greetings. My favorite feeder is shaped like a lantern. It is also the biggest feeder and the bird’s main source of food.
Saturday morning we found the feeder on the ground. It was quickly put back on a tree branch. We blamed a fat bird, who, having eaten more than his share, knocked the feeder off the branch when he launched towards his nest.
On Monday we found something much worse.
Not only had the feeder fallen to the ground, but the plastic holding the seed shattered. The bird’s favorite eatery was broken, and none of my horses, nor none of my men, could put the feeder back together again.
Later that day I saw the culprit. A large squirrel. Since we have houses next to us, and behind us, we don’t see many of these tree rats. But we had one. And this rat had shut down our restaurant via the Board of Gravity.
My parents ordered a new bird feeder, but I knew that wasn’t good enough. We had to deal with those who destroyed our feeder.
We are going to build a ten-foot wall around the bird feeder
And the squirrels are going to pay for it.
The next time I went outside I saw the squirrel in the tree. I pulled daddy and Pocket towards the vermin. “Hey!” I yelled at it. “We are going to build a wall to keep you away from our feeder, and you are going to pay for it!”
“I will not pay for the wall!” the arrogant squirrel said.
“Yes, you will! We do not want you in our yard. You are robbers, and destroyers, and some of you, I assume, are good vermin. But regardless. We are going to build a wall, with a great big beautiful dog to let bunnies through because I like bunnies.”
The squirrel scoffed: “We are never going to pay for that wall. It is stupid!”
“You will pay for the wall because I am a great negotiator.” I gave the squirrel my best stare and knocked him right off the tree branch. He ran out of the yard to tell his friends.
There was a new boss in town.
And they were paying for our wall.
Sunday, September 18, 2016
I have written about dogs who have left their homes for Rainbow Bridge, and I have written about dogs who, with the help of the Bridge Angels, have found new homes. This week I am writing about a dog who has a temporary home but will need a new one soon.
We start when she had no home and no name.
She appeared three weeks ago at the home of our dear friends Sandy, Maggie, Nikki, and Bear. She took to Sandy’s parents like a tick to a deer. She saw friendly humans and did not want to let them out of her sight. She is a small German Shepherd who looks like she had given birth to pups. She had no tags and was not microchipped.
Sandy’s parents named her Nellie because a dog has to have a name. They would have liked to bring her inside, but that would have thrown off the delicate pack balance that took years to establish. Nellie was given a comfortable spot on the porch with a blankie. She did not look the wild thunderstorms that roll through Kentucky, but she was content knowing there were people close by and with the little tent her foster mom made for her.
Her foster parents did everything they could to find if there were people looking for her. They called shelters, put up flyers, called the local vets, but no one said they were missing the poor girl. Mom made her a home on the porch with fresh water and even a fan to keep her cool on the hot nights.
What happened to her parents, and why she was now a stray, was a real mystery. Nellie was a very well trained dog. When her foster mom went for a walk in the woods, Nellie walked with her and never left her side.
Her vet trip did not go well health wise, or finance wise. The doctor said she was three or four years old, she had a fungus on the back of her legs, hip dysplasia, was coming into heat, and she was Ehrlichia positive. Maybe her myriad of health issues was the reason she was in need of a home.
If there was one thing for sure about Nellie, it is that she is a companion dog. Wherever her people went she wanted to go. Whether it be on foot or in a car, she was ready to go along.
She was also slowly meeting the other dogs in the pack. Her privacy blanket on the porch was pulled back so the other dogs could sniff her. But there was still no contact allowed.
When they did initiate contact, it did not go as planned. Maggie has always claimed her dad as her own. She did not like having to share her dad with Nellie.
Nellie was soon given her very own dog igloo on the front steps with her blanket and fan and settled into a routine for going with her parents on walks.
Her parents had her spade, and Nellie gave her parents a fright when her pills went into her throat. She recovered quickly and was back to romping on their walks.
The family could not afford to take in another dog, and attempts to integrate Nellie into the pack failed. While her foster parent’s hearts wanted to keep Nellie, their minds knew they could not.
So Nellie is comfortably sleeping on her porch, and she is going for walks, being fed well, and getting lots of attention. But she is also waiting. Waiting for someone to take her home.
If you know anyone in need of a sweet, faithful, loving, German Shepherd Dog, then let them know about Nellie. It will be the nicest thing you ever do for them.
Friday, September 16, 2016
My good friend Tommy Tunes burst into my home with a newspaper in his mouth. I thought he was being a good boy, bringing me my morning reading material. He dropped the paper on the floor, opened it, and put his paw on an article.
I jumped down to next to him and saw the story that had infuriated him. Six female beagle puppies were given to the University of Missouri. Scientists then purposefully gave them painful eye injuries. A special type of acid was then applied to the eyes to see if they would heal. The acid did not work, and the beagles still had injured eyes.
Having no further use for the dogs, the University put them to death. Tommy and I went looking for them.
We found them at our friends Saffron and Sage’s house. Their mom Jackie is one of the many parents here who take in dogs who never had homes. Saffron said the beagles were still very scared and confused about why humans would treat them that way.
Tommy and I went to see them. Jackie had given them a huge house where they could curl up together. They had fresh steak and salmon. They were on their big comfortable beds. We hopped up and introduced ourselves then asked if they had any questions. They all had the same query. Why?
We are both very smart, experienced dogs who have spent our lives studying humans. But neither of us had an answer. We have seen humans terribly abuse dogs: throwing them from cars, leaving them tied up in terrible weather, leaving them in cramped cages, trapping them in hot cars. The list is endless. But we don’t know why educated humans would do this.
The answer to what happened to our new friend was the same as the answer to why all terrible things happen to dogs. There is just a meanness in the world.
I guess humans have to run tests on animals. I don’t agree with it, but I understand that they can’t run tests on other humans (although there are a lot of humans who should be subjected to it). But why pets who are put on Earth to love their humans. Why conduct experiments on something that loves you?
If you feel the same way, there is something you can do. Tommy’s sister Freddy has already sent this link to our TB friends,but we want to send it to a larger audience.
To sign a petition to prevent the University ofMissouri from using beagles for experiments, please click on this link
We can’t stop all the animal cruelty in the world, but we can slow it down, one person at a time.
Thursday, September 15, 2016
All right team. Gather around. I think we played a good first half. We are only down ten points and I am sure with hard work we can turn this game around. Cinnamon has brought some rats from Australia. They have swum over to our opponent’s locker room and are listening to their plans. No, Chelsea, it isn’t good sportsmanship, but we have a lot of kibble on this game and our opposing the coaches are known for tricky. Shiloh says a big win is in the stars.
I think we have played well defensively, but we need to be aware of penalties. Finley: You are doing a fantastic job of tackling but every time you tackle you eat the ball and the refs are calling a penalty.
Hannah Banana you are our leading offensive player. You are running right through their yard. But I need to stop leaving the huddle to sell things in the concession stands. We have volunteers who can do that. We need you on the field.
Now, players, we have to go at it hard every down. We can’t worry about being tackled. I know you all love the uniforms Hattie Mae designed, but you have to let them get dirty. Yes, they do Hattie. Oh never mind.
Labbies, you are doing a fantastic job as wide receivers, but when you score a touchdown, you can’t keep running out of the parking lot and down the freeway. R and Shyla, our friends from the Rockies, are doing great too. R has a new bionic elbow, and no one can catch him.
Kane and Daisy, you are excellent blockers. It must be all that time you work in the fields pulling the plows. And Murphy and Stanley are doing great too. Must be all the time pulling your humans.
Petey, we have been holding you out until the second half. You are going to take over as our lead running back. No one is going to expect much from an 18-year-old dog, and you are going to wow them.
Dooli, you look great lying on the blanket but if you could get up and run a play every once in a while that would be great. Enzo, you are our quarterback, and you are cool, calm and collected, but you can’t keep running off the field when someone yells”bear.} You have the Three Pugs as your offensive line. Try to remember which pug is hiking you the ball.
Golden Girls you are shutting down their passing game with your great work in the defensive backfield. I got a note from Coach Pokey. He wants you to blitz more. I don’t know what that means so let’s ignore it. Louee, this is American football. Stop kicking the ball! The penalties are killing us. Plus we have the Idaho Pugs to do our kicking. Those little legs send the balls pretty far.
River you do what you do best. Just stand in the middle of the field and stare at the quarterback. I know you will break his will soon.
Now let’s get out there team. Full bellies and Clear bowls can’t lose.
No let’s go out there and kick some squirrel butt.
Tuesday, September 13, 2016
Sunday, September 11, 2016
We gathered this morning under a bright blue sky and a radiant sun. We lined the path that leads from Rainbow Bridge, through the woods, into the valley, and deep into the mountains.
We were all quiet, with our heads bowed. We could hear a drum playing slowly, a fife playing lowly.
They marched past us, together again for the first time, all reunited here at Rainbow Bridge for the 9/11 Rescue Dogs Memorial Walk.
Marching in front was Bretagne. He was the last 9/11 rescue dog to pass over Rainbow Bridge. Now he led the parade.
The attacks of September 11 happened 15 years ago. That is a dog’s life. I have a few friends that old. Petey is 18. Pokey is 15. But most dogs who lived through that horrible day are here, and all those who worked on the pile of rubble are all here too.
There were over 350 dogs who worked at Ground Zero and the Pentagon. They were search and rescue dogs, police dogs, therapy and comfort dogs, from the United States, Canada, Puerto Rico and Europe, brought in to search for survivors and remains. They were Labs, Golden Retrievers, German Shepherds, Border Collies, Rotties, Spaniels, mixed breeds, and a Doberman.
Among their vast skills, these dogs provided a lift to the exhausted, devastated workers searching for survivors. A pat on their heads, one of them giving a happy smile, or just their presence, gave the workers a much-needed boost.
All these dogs had been trained in specialized disaster response, to detect the odor of humans in distress and the difference between a living dog and a cadaver
The dogs worked 12 to 16-hour shifts. They burned their paws. Their lungs were filled with the toxic smoke (luckily none of them suffered from after effects that so many first responders did. If your congressman has not supported the 9/11 first responders medical bill it might be time to find a new one).
The dogs searched without a break, taught to keep searching until told to stop. A 12-year-old German Shepherd found the bodies of two firefighters. After discovering the cadavers, the GSD laid down and curled into a spot. He stopped eating or interacting with the other dogs. It was his last day of service.
The other dogs continued to search to no avail. They grew more stressed and depressed at failing to fulfill their training. To comfort the dogs, the workers would hold mock finds. One of the factors driving the rescue dogs is the belief that, upon finding a person, they would be played with. During the mock rescue, the human workers played with the dogs to reward them and keep their spirits high.
The site was also staffed by veterinarians and technicians who were trained to provide massages for the working dogs.
Therapy dogs were also brought to Ground Zero and the Pentagon. Rescue workers, while on breaks, petted, played fetch with, or just talked and snuggled with the dogs, giving the men and women a sense of peace and normalcy in a collapsing world. The dogs were trained to sense emotional trauma and to go to those people suffering from it. They provided necessary comfort to those heroes doing tragic and hopeless work. Those who worked on the pile in New York City said the therapy dogs were as important as the rescue dogs.
And that is why we all stand solemnly on this horrible anniversary and pay respect as these dogs walk past us. We shall never forget.
On this Sunday, where summer temperatures still linger, football begins, and the pennant races burn on, we hope the humans take the time to remember what happened 15 years earlier when the nation came together as one and vowed never to forget.
Friday, September 9, 2016
Mommy’s brother has a cat. I guess that makes us cousins. I never talked about it much. When you grew up in my neck of land being related to a cat isn’t something talked about in pleasant company.
The cat is named AJ. The truth is I never cared for AJ. And he never cared for me. When his parents went to my house, he would be left alone. When my parents went to his house, I would be left alone. Neither one of us liked being left alone.
My mom was afraid if she brought me to meet AJ I would bark obnoxiously and chase the cat until he squeezed himself into a high spot where he could not be unsqueezed. That does sound like something I would do. Also, in my lone meeting with a cat, I got bipped on the nose by a sharp paw and wasn’t allowed to retaliate. Some cat, somewhere, had it coming.
Thursday I found out that AJ got sick and was coming to the Bridge. I felt bad for him and for his parents, who are both very nice, even if they are occasional parent nappers.
Before AJ arrived, I went to Cotton, whose job is to greet new cats when they cross over the river. I asked her to make sure that AJ had a wonderful celebration and was made to feel welcome. “You know, it’s not his fault he’s a cat,” I told Cotton.
“You know I’m a cat!” Cotton said, slightly offended.
Cats! Always with the attitude.
I watched from my hiding spot as AJ arrived to great fanfare. Cotton was a good egg, for a cat. They brought out the champagne (yum) and the caviar (blech). I saw Cotton whisper in AJ’s ear. AJ looked right at me and ran towards me. Cotton! Bad egg! Bad egg!
I could have run away, but it is the sworn duty of a Yorkie never to run from a cat. I stood up to finally face off against my fellow parent stealer. I arose tall, but a gust of wind caught my wings, and I lifted off the ground and fell backward. Humiliation!
AJ was standing over me. I was at the mercy of my sworn enemy! Then he licked me! What kind of torment was this?
To my surprise, he took me by the paw and asked me to join him. He brought me over to the table and gave me a big glass of champagne. He introduced me as a member of his family and insisted I be treated as such. I was the guest of honor at a kitty party.
And it was wonderful. I laughed. We sang. We danced. By the time we were done, I was exhausted. Before I left, AJ made me promise I would visit him soon, and I promised I would.
I guess AJ proved to me that kitties aren’t so bad after all.
Or he’s planning something.
With cats you never can tell.
Thursday, September 8, 2016
While Mommy is making breakfast in the morning, I educate myself. I get on the table, turn on her I pad, and search for dog news.
Recently I came across a fascinating article. Dogs are trained to sniff computers in search of the unique smells hard drives emit when they are extra hard. Or, in other words, when they contain porn.
I thought: “Now here is a job right up my alley.” During my wild upbringing in Florida, I became an unwed mother. I made several mistakes, which has made me the lollipop I am today.
Somewhere on the Internet is my sex tape. I don’t think anyone has found it yet. One day, when I was outside doing my business, my neighbor was sitting on his patio, searching his laptop. I heard a familiar pant. I broke free of my harness and ran to my neighbor. On his computer was a video of two dogs I did not know having sex. Nothing strange there. I don’t know why he looked so guilty.
When I read about porn sniffing dogs, I knew I could find my sex tape without having to keep trolling doggy porno sites. First I had to take an online course on porn sniffing. Luckily, while Trump University no longer offers humans classes, it has gone to the dogs. I enrolled immediately.
Six years later I had a glossy picture of the Great Pumpkin and me, and the ability to sniff out porn from any computer.
When I received my degree in the mail, I immediately put my nose to the test. I went to daddy’s computer and was overwhelmed with the scent of downloaded pornography. “J Accuse!” I barked. I clicked on the offending material exposing his sins. “I don’t know how it got there!” Daddy said. “It must have been attached to an email I opened. I had no idea.”
I did not have any luck finding my video until I got to my groomers where Suede now lives. I sniffed the computer and immediately caught the familiar scent. I waited until they were fussing over Pocket and I clicked on the porno, and there was my tape. I barked at Suede asking him what our tape was doing on the computer.
“I don’t know how it got there!” Suede said. “It must have been attached to an email I opened. I had no idea.”
Men! He promised there was only one copy, and I had destroyed it, but I know you can’t trust a man when it comes to smut.
If you see me around your computer, don’t be alarmed. I am still on a quest to find all the copies of my tape.
I can’t let my fine degree go to waste.
Tuesday, September 6, 2016
Sunday, September 4, 2016
When I was curled up on my mom’s lap while she watched TV and managed my online computer profiles, I barely paid attention to what was happening on that stupid old picture box. But there was one movie that caught my eye. It was about a primitive tribe in Africa. A member of the tribe, Xi, found a Coke bottle which brought envy and greed to his village. The movie was called The Gods Must Be Crazy.
I think there are people in the mortal world, in Italy, on the United State’s east coast, in Lousiana, and in Oklahoma, who would agree with Xi: The Gods Must Be Crazy. Earthquakes, tropical storms, floods: The Gods have been testing people with ceaseless natural disasters.
The Gods Must Be Crazy, but the Angels are definitely worried.
Our families and friends are in the path of the storms and floods, are being tossed and turned by these quakes. We wish there were something we could do to stop it.
I don’t ask if the Gods are crazy. I know they are. They think their evil little tricks will break human’s resiliency. I know that no matter how many times people are knocked down, they always get up. It is amazing.
Dogs are tasked with aiding humans in finding that relentless part of their souls that allows them to battle through the most strident calamities. When natural disasters destroy people’s property and livelihoods, they risk their lives to save others from worse peril. But it isn’t just humans they are saving. They gamble with their lives to save us dogs as well. Beyond that, if we have become separated from our families, these brave humans work to find new homes for us.
For proof of this, I turn to our Italian correspondent Paco. Here is a link to a story about how dogs saved people, and people saved dogs and the bond between dogs and men in Italy after the earthquakes. You will have to click the translate tab: http://www.repubblica.it/cronaca/2016/08/27/news/terremoto_emergenza_animali_mille_allevamenti_nella_zona_colpita_in_campo_una_task_force-146725201/?ref=HREC1-5
Here is a second story provided by Paco about a dog named Romeo rescued ten days after the earthquake hit. http://video.repubblica.it/dossier/terremoto-24-agosto-2016/amatric…
And this link https://www.romper.com/p/whats-happening-to-pets-stranded-in-the-louisiana-flood-heroes-have-come-to-the-rescue-16986 will show you videos of humans risking their lives to save dogs, of people reunited with their dogs, and of dogs in search of new homes. There are heroes in every story, both dog, and man.
We don’t know when Hermine will depart our shores, and what damage will be done, and if dogs, or people, will need to be rescued. And we certainly don’t know what the Gods, or the meanness that infects this world and causes people to spread evil, will do, but we know that no matter how hard people are hit they will rise.
And we will be right next to them.
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