Author: madmuser

A butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker, and a few things in between. And so that road less traveled has brought me here to follow my dream and my muse.

A Young Dog Named Hershey

A wonderful happy and fun-loving 1-year old pitbull pup was surrendered to the shelter a week ago by the only family he had ever known. They got Hershey when he was a puppy and that’s when the trouble began. This family thought crating was cruel, so little Hershey, complete with puppy energy and teething gums, set about to chew and play with everything he could get his paws and teeth on. This included when the family was gone and they left Hershey to his own devices.

We all loved him at the shelter. I walked him several times, or rather, he romped and I followed at a good clip. But he would periodically stop to check in with me, make sure I was still there having as much fun as he was. One time I spent some crazy amount of time trying to get his halter on him while he just patiently stood. I never did get it on so we went by collar and leash.

I was looking forward to my next visit with him when I discovered that he was on “The List.” The shelter staff had tried to get a rescue group to pull him but because of the really bad write-up left by his owners, takers were not forthcoming. I went into frantic-forward as did untold number of other volunteers to find an answer for this beautiful, sweet and innocent boy, a boy who was about to be condemned through no fault of his own.

The good news is – Hershey was pulled by the rescue Operation Freedom Ride – literally hours before his time was up.  In a warm, loving foster home, he can now decompress and get ready for an adoptive home that will love him and treat him like the wonderful dog he is!

Cellphone Civility: Not

I was reading an article in People magazine when I came across a compelling quote by Alex Trebek. It especially resonated with me because of my professional involvement with young (and not so) college students. Here’s what he had to say:

Photo by Sajjad Hussain M from Burst

“When I was growing up in Ontario, if you were on the street and made eye contact with someone, you would say “good morning,” even if you didn’t know them. Now everyone has their face buried in their cellphones or have earphones in. We’ve become isolationists. There’s a lack of civility in our society right now that bothers me. I always ride the subway when I am in New York, and everyone is just looking down at their phones. It frightens me that we’re losing sensitivity toward others. “

I often think of the movie Wall.E when I ponder the roles the cell phone and texting have taken in our lives today. Wall.E is the story of an enterprising and adorable little robot who finds himself in a space-city where scores of humans migrated when the earth was destroyed in a nuclear attack. The humans have become glutinous and essentially immobile and spend their days floating around on motorized chaises, talking on phones while ignoring the people right next to them. It’s a provocative little film and despite its clear commentary on the state of humankind, it leaves us with a feel-good ending.

I’m anxious to see what our feel-good ending will be.

The Man and His Dog

Photo by Ryan Bruce from Burst

For over 20 years our paths crossed almost daily when he was walking his dog and I was either riding my bike or running in the days before my knee said enough.  He had two dogs during those 20 plus years. He didn’t walk for a while after his first dog died. I missed them. I was happy to see him back with his newly adopted friend.

In all that time we never spoke more than a comment or two about the weather or some other silly thing, yet he and his dog became part of my daily rhythm.  They could be counted on when other things couldn’t. He, with his jaunty little walk, and his faithful lab marching along beside him. It gave me a comfort I couldn’t understand to see them pass each day.

Then one day, he wasn’t jaunty anymore. His chin began to drop until after a few short months it became attached to his chest. He couldn’t raise his head or talk and a friendly greeting was met with a grunt. Drool soaked the front of his chest and he wasted away before our eyes.

ALS, or so he told us before he was no longer able to speak. Still, he walked. His pace became snail-like, but twice a day, no matter what, he and his dog walked by our house. Until they didn’t. And that’s when I knew.

Somehow, someway, a vacant house calls out to you, telling you it’s lonely. This week his house called out to me. It might have had something to do with the dumpster in the driveway, the lack of footprints in the snow, and its darkness now at night. He’s not there, and neither is his dog.

I feel a tremendous sense of loss for this man, who I barely knew. It’s like a song off key with no beat or rhythm.

Shelter Dog Lessons

underbite

She was timid. She would come out of her kennel, but the brakes went on when it was time to move on. So rather than push, I sat down on the floor right in front of her kennel and she crawled into my lap and right there and then I wanted her to be mine. But with four babies of my own at home, that was not to be. But still, I became attached. I wanted to be the one to walk her, to pet her, to love her and I felt a sense of ownership I had no right to feel. She taught me this. She taught me that she needed love from whoever would give it to her. She loved my love, but she loved everyone’s love, too. She taught me that I am lucky to have even a little precious time and that I must celebrate all the other walks, pets, and loving she gets from all the other volunteers. She taught me it’s about the dogs, not about me.

My shelter friends are teaching me more about life and love than I learned anywhere else.

Oh Christmas Tree

They make me sad, all those once magnificent Christmas trees. The real ones, now neglected and naked by the side of the road. I wonder what they were like when they were “before,” when they graced a hillside in spring, or accompanied their deciduous neighbors during the vibrant blazing of fall.

Photo by Jp Valery from Burst

When I was a child I begged for a “real” tree every Christmas time. I loved the smell of pine and the way it felt like I had my own forest in the living room. I loved that I had to crawl under the branches to make sure there was enough water in the tree stand. I loved how the needles fell off, covering the carpet under the tree. My parents did not love these things.

Photo by Matthew Henry from Burst



We have an artificial tree now. I’m not a vegetarian (anymore), but there’s some of the same principle for me with Christmas trees. I almost feel pain when I think of them being cut down and schlepped off to some Christmas tree lot where they are judged and either chosen or rejected. And I feel even worse when I drive down the street and in front of many homes is a discarded, once naturally glorious evergreen tree.

Bessie

I fell in love when I first saw her. She was old and ugly in that way that is endearing. She looked at me through the bars of her kennel with rheumy eyes that spoke of things I didn’t want to know. One ear stuck up straight, the other flopped, giving her a lopsided look. Her old, gray face was tired. She had served her previous master well with untold numbers of litters now weighing down her tits so low they reached the ground. Her people got what they wanted from her. She got nothing. I opened her kennel door and I spoke to her – quietly – but I am sure she understood me.

Today I ran right to her kennel and she looked at me, wouldn’t stop looking at me even though others stood before her kennel. After 2 weeks of being confused, though well taken care of and loved by everyone in the shelter, she was going to a foster home where she would be warm, cozy, and loved by a family. Wonderful news for her. I started my shift whispering sweet somethings in her ear and when my shift was done, she was gone. Her kennel still held the blanket she cozied up on, and the toy some kind soul gave her, but her essence was gone, and as ashamed as I am to admit it, I had to wipe away a few tears of grief and loss. Please, family, give her the love she needs and deserves.

Walking Dogs in Winter

It’s cold. Today I walk the shelter dogs. My heart is warm.

Photo by Ryan Bruce from Burst

Abandoned Pets

All wags, all wiggles, all bone. Despite being horribly abandoned by his owners, this little puppy greets all humans with great joy and excitement.

Abandoned – no one knows for exactly how long, certainly long enough to become a wiggly bag of bones – when his people left their home –and him, without water or food.

I do not know the back story but suspect someone heard his cries and called our animal services who brought him to a place of warmth, with plenty of food to fatten him up, his own kennel – all inside, and plenty of staff and volunteers to love him up.

Abandoning a poor helpless animal is despicable. No matter how desperate someone may be, there are options far better than to leave the animal with no hope of taking care of itself.

Why Are Pets Abandoned?

Here are some reasons why people say they abandon pets.

  1. Too busy – The pet takes more time than the owners thought, or they just don’t want to bother anymore.
  2. Too big – That cute little puppy or kitten grew into a much larger dog or cat.
  3. Too expensive – Little did they know that pets need medical care, too.
  4. Too “unhealthy” – No way should a new baby be exposed to a dirty animal.
  5. Too bothersome – The pet just doesn’t have a place in our new home or apartment.

By the Numbers

The good news is that the number of dogs and cats in shelters has declined since 2011. The bad news is that nearly 6.5 million pets end up in shelters each year. This does not include the number of animals wandering the streets as strays. Of these, 1.5 million pets in shelters are euthanized yearly, but this number has declined since 2011 by 2.6 million.

What do these numbers mean? They mean that things are happening, that awareness for the plight of homeless pets has increased and more people are opting to adopt.

Back to our skinny-boy. After a week in the shelter, I almost didn’t recognize him. His bones were not protruding nearly as much and he almost looked like a “normal” dog. As this shelter often does, he was put into a foster home where he’d get much more attention and the comfort of living in a real-live home until he eventually finds his way into a home of his own.

Little Dog by the Side of the Road

I recently started walking dogs at a local shelter and my life has changed exponentially in the few months I’ve been doing so. Since this has become such an intrinsic part of my life, I will probably be writing much more about it. Here below is one very sad and near-tragic story of a little dog named Dolly.

I hadn’t been walking shelter dogs very long when I came upon a dog that literally made me fall to my knees. What I saw before me was a mass of bones with a thin layer of flesh stretched over them, and a brindle coat that was eaten away in some spots, baring sores and raw skin. I bent down, thinking she would raise her head to look at me. Her eyes moved towards me, and her tail moved in an exhausted attempt to wag. My heart broke for this helpless dog, found by the side of the road, unable to get up let alone walk. My heart burned with anger at the soulless humans who had left her like this, alone, to die.

Several days later, on my next walking duty day, the first thing I did was rush to Dolly’s kennel. I was petrified I wouldn’t find her there, but she was, and this time she raised her head to look at me and her tail wagged with more enthusiasm.  She tried to get up on very wobbly, shaky legs. Still too weak to go walking, I unlocked the door to her kennel and knelt beside her, stroking the emaciated body and   whispering words to will her back to health.

For my next several visits, it was always to Dolly’s kennel that I first went. It was always with relief that I found her still there. Gradually she grew stronger and her frail body began to fill out. Then one day I rushed to her kennel to find she wasn’t there! I panicked and felt an instant loss as deep as the ocean.

“Has anyone heard anything about Dolly? Where is she?”

“No worries,” answered one of the staff. “She is now safe, warm, and loved in a foster home where she’ll be nursed back to health and given plenty of TLC until she is well enough to be put up for adoption to find a home of her own.”

Dolly, I pray that you get what you deserve this Christmas, a home of your very own with humans who will be privileged to have you become a part of their lives.

 

    Colorful, Cozy, Comfy Clothes

    It started out innocently enough. One day my friend and I went out to lunch and I fell in love with her outfit. A few weeks later, we met up for a glass of wine, and I loved this second outfit even more. A picnic in the park a month later? I had to get some of these clothes. They are known as Lularoe.

    They came on the scene a few years ago, but exploded like colorful fireworks in the last couple of years. And colorful is indeed the word! Think vibrant, wild, explosive oranges, reds, purples, yellows in patterns that made your head spin. A special hallmark of these clothes is the cacophonous mismatching of pieces with discordant patterns and colors. An example of this on a very slight scale is a blue and yellow striped top with a bright pink and purple polka dot skirt. The idea is to have fun, be unique, feel confident and strut your style with confidence.  And this idea grabbed me hook, line and sinker.

    Like any new company, Lularoe is facing some growing pains, but as a consumer, I could care less about those issues. What I do care about is the quality of the clothes, the consultants’ service, and how I have indeed become an obsessed consumer. The clothes are sold during live internet sessions, for which I’ve begun to passionately scour the web when I’m in the mood for a live “party,” as some sessions are called. Once part of a party, I find it VERY difficult to stay “dry” as in, not making a purchase.  Thus is the lure of Lularoe.

    Fixation aside, I really do love these clothes. I love their whimsy, their comfort, and the ability they give me to create my own unique style. I also love my main party consultant who is as real and comfy as an old shoe, and keeps us all in stitches with her charmingly self-deprecating style.