Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Race to the Slaughterhouse...

Just as suspected, there is a mad dash to the slaughterhouse with wild horses. Those who supported the sale of wild horses said it would never happen, but with an instant profit of up to $600 per horse, scumbags are lying and hauling the animals off before a stop can be put to it. The first such report was a man in Oklahoma who claimed to be a minister and wanted the horses "for a troubled youth program." The horses were slaughtered in Illinois within three days. Now 35 more horses have been slaughtered. Emergency meetings are being called in Washington. Rumor has it that the sales have been suspended until further notice.

An extra thanks goes to Ford Motor Company for its funding of the rescue of 52 mustangs. I'm thinking my next car might be a Ford...


Monday, April 25, 2005


Momma and I visited Daddy's grave yesterday. The marker had been set. A bird had pooped on top of it and I imagined him rolling his eyes and thinking "even in the grave I get crapped on!" It was hard to see it all set in stone and even harder to think of his earthly body stored in a box below my feet.

Friday, April 22, 2005

A few genes shy of a human...

Yet another gene-pool pollutant. This dude isn't worth the dirt he's standing on in my opinion. Online Hunting Firm Is Now the Quarry.

Thursday, April 21, 2005

It's been around for a while, but it's still neat: FLASH MIND READER

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Peanut's eyes...

Aren't Peanut's eyes spectacular?

Also, the knots in Grayson's back legs seem to be going away, so it's probably not the vaccine-related cancer previously suspected. His daily heart medication has gotten him feeling good again. So that's good news. Thanks all for the supportive comments...again and again...you've all been so wonderful. Never underestimate the value of a few kind words to someone who is grieving or in trouble.

Monday, April 18, 2005

I am happy report something good for a change. Rooney is eating. The poor kid has been on three types of antibiotics, prednisone and steroids--and had to have his teeth scaled as well as be tube-fed for two consecutive days (cha-ching). But, he's eating. He's eating! We still don't know what definitely caused his severe loss of appetite, but he's on the mend. The poor little guy got down to under 5 pounds!

(Atticus is supervising in the background)

And Yuki has decided to revive an old pasttime from his days as a blood donor cat...eating toilet paper rolls. Oh, Yuki, Yuki, Yuki. But you know that's not Yuki in the picture, that's Peanut! Peanut? Yes, we have five cats now. I haven't announced his arrival because his adoption was kind of a personal thing. Daddy had a little cat named Peanut (that was NOT his--he just didn't want to see her starve-ha) and my little boy Peanut looks a good bit like his little kitty pal. Anyway, Peanut is saying "No, mommy, I did NOT do that! But could you turn the bathroom faucet on so I could get a cold drink?"

More about Peanut soon...

Thursday, April 14, 2005

Wisconsin...home of great cheese and retards with guns...

Wisconsin considers hunting feral cats

Don't let your kitty outside...he might be fair game.

Ah, man's solution to all previous mistakes--kill the victim. Kill the horses we've neglected. Kill the pets of which we've tired. Throw the kittens in a sack and drown them instead of fixing the cat. Destroy the ecosystem so we can have immediate gratification. Kill, destroy, repeat in video game for reinforcement.

Forget responsibility. Forget problem-solving. Forget thinking long-term--or thinking period. Kill it now and it will rot and go away. Otherwise, we might be inconvenienced. Otherwise, we might have to make an effort.

Our gene pool is irreversibly polluted with careless, stupid and wasteful people.

I'm starting to wonder if the conscionable part of the human brain is slowly being wasted away from centuries of creepy people breeding with one another. Too many primitive brains are shuffling around on the sidewalks these days.

We're the only species that chooses to kill and cause suffering. Our society is advanced enough to do better, but we choose to be lesser beings. Much less.

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

so far, so painful...

I am having a bit of trouble getting myself back together. It's not easy losing your father, but when you lose him just as you are finally getting to know him, it seems like you've fallen into a deep black hole with no exit.

I am stronger than I suspected, but grief feels like a constant drip of acid that disintegrates my mind and heart.

Where shall I go? Who will I be now? Everything I knew is upside-down and torn apart. I gave up making choices. I gave it over to God. I'm waiting for an answer to arrive. I'm angry at everyone around me going on with their lives.

"The Letter Edged in Black." The words to the song were written on a piece of folded paper in a box of memorabilia I found. I thought it was a poetic letter written to someone, but it was, as I found after a little research, the words to an old bluegrass song. I wondered if it pertained to my great-grandmother's death, but I will never know.

Many things in the memorabilia boxes have perplexed me. Mysterious people, cryptic letters, faded writing, saved receipts, newspaper articles, war stamp books and miscellaneous notices. I would have wanted to learn about all those pieces and how they fit together with Daddy, but he's gone forever. His family is gone. He was such a private man he hardly told his own family anything. I felt terrible going through his things, but I couldn't stop, and still can't, because there were so many clues to who he was, what he liked, how he thought, what made him sad - things I would have liked to have known before he left us. Things we had in common. We were much alike, which has made it even more heart-rending.

There was the death of the man I knew, the one I was getting to know and the one that could have been. Complicated relationships render complicated grief. It's been almost unbearable.

I lay awake at night and stare out the window looking for a hawk, a shooting star; a luminous spirit threading itself through the trees to bring me a message of hope, but I am only left with prayer and heavy eyelids. Eventually I sink back down into the pillow and try to go to sleep.

My mind wanders. I make mistakes at work. I worry about my mother and the stress she's going through. She's already had several mini-strokes and I'm terrified she will leave me unexpectedly as well.

Doubt, worry, the incessant grinding of moving forward in slow-motion while the world moves around you at a lightning pace-it's mind-numbing. I look like I am functioning, but I'm not functioning. Time, the eternal fire in which we burn...

Not to mention I found out our kitty Grayson has heart disease and possibly cancer in his back leg and Rooney has been in the veterinary hospital since Monday. He won't eat or drink.

I thought I'd never write in this stupid blog again, but I am losing it...

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