Words Are Not Enough: To My Animal Friends

My beautiful, talented, compassionate, brilliant little sister Michael Ann had a post on her fb page.  It was this:

Just watching it changed something inside of me.  It confirmed what I have felt about animals all of my life; that they are much more intelligent, emotional and perceptive than humans have ever given them the credit for.



Most of my life I have been around people who shunned the idea that animals were anything but something to be used by humans. A lot of  the  people I used to hang with thought that animals were under the "dominion" of humans.Which means it was okay for them to abuse, eat and do whatever else to them for human enjoyment and greed.  I hate that philosophy. They even use scripture for it. Which makes me hate it even more. It's bullshit!












In my own experience living with my dog Lexy for sixteen years now I realize that they communicate, if only we will be aware; if only we will listen.  I'm not sure when I began knowing what she was wanting at times, but I  can read her like no other.  She'll act a certain way and I'll tell my husband, "Oh, she wants this and she doesn't want it this way, but she wants it this way with that on top."  And when he does it the way I explained she wanted it, she is content.

There is also the belief that dead animals communicate with us. Well, firstly, I believe that dead people communicate with us. Look at Jesus, he tries talking to us all the time. I know I listen, but most don't.  I heard my father say my name one night after he died. I heard it with my ears, not in my mind.  I believe the dead can talk.  When I had to euthanize my beloved Murray, it was probably the most difficult thing that I've ever done.






 I felt the life go out of him; I felt his body go limp. It was horrendous.  To this day I have a hard time with it.  Now, before I go on, I just want to say that my life hasn't been all lollipops and roses.  I've been through some pretty hard times. So hard it made me totally believe in a hell.  But this time, euthanize my boy Murray, was devastating.

One night , I was with my husband in a hotel in Tuscon.  It was on the top floor and had a french door that led to a balcony.  I woke up and felt that I saw Murray outside on that balcony. It was snowing in this vision, and he was happier than I'd seen him in a long time.  It makes me teary eyed telling you about it.  (He was always in pain. He was born with hip problems and had hip surgery which really didn't help him, in my opinion.)  Anyway, it really felt like he visited me. YOu know, a feeling deep down where you just know.  Then another time, I was looking up at the sky and there in those puffy white clouds was his shape. I swear, it looked just like him.  Clouds. That looked like Murray.


I'm getting old.  I'm getting tired of catering and conforming to silly human standards of ideas about animals being like inanimate things..I remember once when my in-laws were visiting. My boy Murray was sick. Now, before I go any further you have to know that Murray was a gentleman.  He would never do his "thing" in the house. He always went out. But at that time, he was sick and had diarrhea all over the white, guest room rug.  My husband was livid, my in laws were totally not gracious, and I felt horrible for Murray.  But my husband was embarrassed. I knew he was sick and I was pissed that no one really cared about him.   People are arrogant. If it were now, I would have done things so much differently.  I would have told my in laws that perhaps they had better go to a hotel where they would feel more comfortable. And inside, I would be relieved that they were gone, not having to worry about them and being able to help Murray feel better. You realize, animals don't have that ability to be arrogant. At least not that I've seen.

I"m writing this to use this forum to tell all the animals that have been a part of my  life that I"m sorry. I'm sorry that at times, I treated them badly.  I could have been so much better. I'm too ashamed to even go into it. But I know one thing, animals are far more forgiving than humans.  But still, I wish I could do it all over.  You know, do things differently. I would be there with Koobie when she had to be euthanized, I would have given Mike the meds that he really needed, I would have taken better care of Louie, I would not have given Shaun away because he bit the mailman.  I have so many regrets and I'm so very sorry.



I have three dogs. One is almost ready to go over to the other side. She may last another year or so, or she may be gone tomorrow. But you can bet I'll do my best to make the rest of her life pleasant.  My other two are the loves of my life...other than my husband of course.  I will do what I can to give them the best life that I can. Just like with my children. I don't believe my children owe me anything. I brought them into the world without them having to choose. It's a difficult, imperfect world. They didn't ask to be here. I owe THEM.  I owe the animals that I choose to be a part of my life..I owe them the best.

I'm hoping that I'm getting this whole feeling from God. I'm hoping that God feels the same way. You know, sort of responsible for me in a way.  I know, it's complicated.

So, I'm ending this blog with a sigh.  And not a lot of editing.  Watch the video at the beginning of the blog, it speaks volumes.

Another Rant

My sister posted on Facebook that she hopes to grow old gracefully.  I wasn't sure what she meant because most of the time I hear this it's referring to the physical side effects of aging. But she wasn't talking about that. She meant that she didn't want to be grouchy, intolerant and just plain miserable.  I hadn't really thought about it like that before.  And now I'm thinking about it.


I see something happening in me.  It's not good.  What is good is that I have the power to change my thoughts; but I have to want to change.  Before I start on changing myself I want to  get this out of my system.  So, here's the deal. I'm becoming intolerant.  Intolerant of things I never thought I would become intolerant with. Now, as you're reading this, keep in mind that I'm an educator and I just finished up the last day of school. I think educators become pretty intolerant of everything about this time of year.



I spend a lot of time on Facebook.  Too much time in my opinion. But that's beside the point.  I'm becoming intolerant of people, mostly my age, who are turning into intolerant, opinionated assholes.  See?    It's probably just a reflection of me.

 I'm married to an ex pat Brit.  I love him with all my heart and soul and feel sorry for him because he's married to me. The problem is, I'm becoming intolerant with a few his British peers who think they know the United States. Or, who live here and clutch pitifully to their British roots.  I had a former work associate tell me, when she was upset about another co worker,  that she was "so done with spoiled, sensitive little American women".  Hello?  Did she not even think about who she was saying that to?

 I find that attitude a lot.  I find that some Brits have this superior attitude and cling to traditions. The United States isn't really old enough to have those types of traditions. And the United States is more about change and not holding on to old values and ideas. Because of that, we make a lot of mistakes.  We say a lot of things that probably make no sense, but they do to a lot of us.  They do because for the most part, we believe that true success is opening one's mind and thinking about every option, every idea, and every contemporary concept.







We mull over them, we argue about them and then we decide.




People from other countries who don't live here  have no idea what they're talking about when they judge things that happen in our country.


 I am totally for stricter gun control laws.  I think the deaths and injuries in this country caused by guns are horrific. However, I am not against gun ownership.  My beloved grandfather was 40th sharp shooter in the world in the 1940's, but he did not believe in hunting or killing.  He used to make bullets in his basement when I was a little girl.  I would go down the steep, rickety basement steps and it seemed almost like a mysterious cavern.  Books, boxes, tools and all sorts of treasures were there.  Tools for making bullets were also there.  I wouldn't dare touch them of course because I was taught boundaries and respect for others.(He even had a gun named after him.)

So, I said all that to say this: most people who haven't lived here don't understand what this country is about. They don't understand what the mindset and attitude is like here.





 It's wild, crazy and people value their individual and corporate freedoms.  I voted for Obama, both times.  However, having lived in Arizona for four years now it is becoming even more clear that the conservatives who live here are all about not wanting the government to tell them what they can or can't have, and what they can or can't do in their private lives. 




 It's not a moral issue so much, like in the Midwest.  The conservative values of the Midwest are a whole nother ranting blog that I'll not touch right now.

I'm married to a bleeding heart British liberal.  And I must say that viewing political issues through his eyes has opened my eyes.  As a Christian, I totally believe that Jesus, the one I call God, taught many liberal things that the conservative Christians sadly fail to see. But on the other hand, I HATE dealing with the government.  It's a lot like dealing with a huge corporation. And I certainly don't want the government telling me what I can and can't do with my personal life. Whether it's owning guns or having an abortion. Anyway, I'm beating totally around the bush.  What I want to say to a few non-Americans is,  keep your opinions to yourselves because if you haven't lived here, you don't get it.   You have your heads up your derriere...big time.






 I'm not sure how this is going to go over.    It's just those few who, in the very appropriate words from Anne Lamott express what I feel and think of them.

“I thought such awful thoughts that I cannot even say them out loud because they would make Jesus want to drink gin straight out of the cat dish.”

This is a rant.  This is a huge rant and I feel better for writing about it.  This is my problem.  Not anyone else's.  And I'll be working on it.  I too want to grow old gracefully.

A Word About Fathers on Mother's Day

"When you're a father in a marriage, you sort of become the mother's assistant.  And you sort of get a list from her every day and you run down the list and it feels very much like a chore."  Louis C.K.

When my husband used to go to church with me on a regular basis, I always felt sort of weird for him on Father's Day.  He used to complain that the father's would always get a lecture on how to be a better father, but on Mother's Day there was all this praise and adoration for dear mother..... yada yada yada.  And, he was right.




 It bothered me of course, and I felt like fathers were getting the raw end of the deal and maybe that Mother's Day was just thought up by a bunch of women.  Then I read the above Louis C.K. quote and everything fell into perspective.



I'm an observer.  Even when I was little, people would be talking to me, or lecturing to me or something, and I would sort of be focused on them, not their words.  You know, how their mouth moved, the little bit of hair that was attached to their head but flying out like it was trying to free itself .  I was a watcher, and I'd then think and analyze what I would see when I was supposed to be listening.



I said all that to say Louis C.K. is right.  Mothers carry the major burden, heart ache, joy, and everything in between, of birthing, raising and loving a child.  Now, I'm sure I'll have a lot of people just tune me out right here or become defensive and totally disagree. Honestly, I don't care.  But being the watcher that I am, I see that for the most part, in humanity, it's the woman that spends the most time with a child, it's the mother that carries that human in her body for months on end, it's the woman that, well,....that is with that child more than the man.  As a teacher, a daughter, a wife,  a mother, a grandmother, an aunt, I see this as a fact. When there is a divorce, I see more men disappear from the kids than I do women.  Look up the statistics; in first world countries anyway.
So why shouldn't a woman get more praise than the father?  There is no reason.  So, with that, I will be at ease when Father's Day comes around.

Here's to us all you mothers.





We never stop being a mother even when our children are not children anymore.  They are still in our hearts and minds just as much as they were when they were tiny.  To this day I would grab the sun and give it  to my children if I could.