Wednesday, August 3, 2016

I live in a cartoon



I do live in a cartoon. The Pig is giving Yanni fits. Every night just before the sun goes down he and his rifle head out the front door.  He is wearing camo shorts and a wife beater with his leather old Greek man sandals.   Last night he comes back after about an hour and says "I need your help". He wants me to hold the flashlight and follow right behind him while he walks and when he says flash the light, I am to flash the light. OK, how difficult can this be?
So we are walking and he says "flash the light" and I do. (By the way this is a super good military flashlight that you can see very far pin point distances.) Nothing. So we walk some more and do this exercise a few more times and then I flash the light and before I know what happened """KABOOM""" I almost fell down. The pig was not hit. I said "OK, I am done with this game" and headed back to the house.
I can laugh about this now but wait until we are skinning and gutting and cutting up a 150 lb pig at midnight and disposing of the excess so the dogs don't have a party in the morning. I might feel a bit different.
Now I am a live and let live sort of gal except in the case of pigs. When they are sleeping and rooting right up next to the house they are exciting once and even twice but when they tear down your tomato fences to get at one green tomato it is time for them to be dead or be scared off the property.   
I also have to admit I love living where my dogs can be dogs but it is also great to live where a man can be a man or at least pursue the tough guy things he likes to pursue.  

It is legal to hunt on your own property and we do have a permit to do this.    The reason you need the permit is because when you take the pig to the butcher to be processed properly they will need to see some sort of proof that you are allowed to have killed a pig.

PS:  Unless you have had first hand experience with these guys please do not tell me how dangerous they are or how lucky we are to come from an encounter unscathed.  We encounter them every day and we know exactly how they are.    We do have a permit to hunt pig on our property.    I doubt we will ever catch one but ya never know what happens in a cartoon.

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

My Name is XXXXXXX and I am Available.





My human died, I am old, well I don’t think I am old but some call me a senior, so I guess that means I am old.  When my human died my world turned upside down.   Does anyone truly understand the bond a girl like me had with her old world?  I went from my safe calm environment to a shelter.   The shelter was extremely stimulating in all the wrong ways.   My daughter was with me but she did not understand what I was going thru.   I was slowly going crazy inside.   I did not shut down as some dogs do.  I became hyper stimulated.   Finally a Rescue Group pulled me into a Foster home.   I was hoping for a connection.   I was hoping for someone to bond with and allow the demons to leave while I looked in their eyes.   The foster home was not much better.   They were well intention-ed but I was an afterthought in their life.   They fed me and put a roof over my head and saved me from the grim reaper but I needed more.   I needed this growing disease in me to stop taking over.   I was so revved up from my life changes  and the shelter that it was very hard for me to find outlets to release energy.    I was overly stimulated 24 hours a day.   They would let me out in the back yard from time to time and the neighbor dogs would be on the other side of the fence taunting me.    I couldn’t handle it.    I was going crazy inside I had to react or I would explode.   I began to bark and when there was no relief I would scream.    My foster home had dogs they loved.   Dogs who looked in their eyes and I felt the love all the way across the room where I watched.   Would I ever have this again?    My daughter and I were there so long.  I thought I was going to die of a broken heart and broken spirit while this anxiety took me over.    My daughter was more resilient.    We were from similar roots and environment but she was weathering this storm better.    It was so hard when I lashed out at her.   Everything and anything made me react badly.    Eventually we were transported on a long journey to another Foster home.   I was hoping against all hope that there would be a set of eyes for me to focus on.    I needed relief so bad.    I felt the love in the new home.   I smelled good smells and there were other dogs more like my daughter and I.   There was a feeling of hope and promise there.   I was still struggling.    I could not shake the demons that were inside me.   I was not making the one on one connection I was longing for.    I was being labeled as a very annoying troublesome dog.   I would hear things like “I know why the previous foster wanted her gone, she disrupts the entire household”.     No one knew I was sad and heartbroken and everything had me so over stimulated that I was beginning to lose myself.   I was beginning to forget my past and who I really was.   I wanted to be free and hoped every day for a chance to run away.   If I could run fast enough I could leave this world behind and find my human who left me.   My foster was getting better and better at keeping me confined which was not helping the feeling that I wanted to explode.   My head was hurting all the time.    Now I sit here in the crazy moment with no relief and losing my mind.   This is no fault of the humans who have tried to help.   This is because I am a dog and I cannot tell you my plight.   This is because many dogs move thru the system seemingly very well with minimum effort.    It has been many months since I lost the safety and security of my old home.   I am emotionally unwell and I need help to get past it.    Time does not heal that which ails me.    I need the bond and security that comes from looking into the eyes of a human who cares to heal my spirit.    My name is XXXXX and I am a senior and I am asking, no begging for someone to help me find my peace.   


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