Gun Violence

I was going to call this post something else, something a little less incendiary.  But I'm very much about telling it like it is whenever possible, and the title is apt. It's been another rough week. Another week of partisan propaganda, another week of circular arguments, another week of kids begging our government to do something, another week of protests planned. My friends and family know very well what my personal feelings on this issue are, what my opinions are, and what I believe. I will get to that in a bit, too. Just a little. I'm realizing though, that if this is a problem we want to solve (and I often have to wonder if there are some who like things just as they are), we need to get beyond our opinions, thoughts, feelings, political biases and personal beliefs. We need to understand that any proposed solution that falls into the ban guns/more guns box, is a non-starter. It's the argument we have Every. Single. Time. It gets us nowhere, it will ALWAYS get us nowhere, if for no other reason than each of these proposals (in their many incarnations) fails to consider the values and priorities of enormous groups of people. I don't like that idea because it means I don't get what I want, either. But there it is. This isn't about a party getting their way, it's about solving a problem that really needs to be solved.

Party politics hasn't been the only issue, but it's certainly been a major contributor. What we've failed to do is study this issue objectively, and it's something that really needs to be done ASAP. It's been difficult to do so because of legislation put in place to block that and to block funding that supports it. It's a situation that's outlined fairly well in this article: What's Missing From the Gun Debate  
Once upon a time, the NRA used to be a reputable American institution. They were about firearm safety, and about protecting rights. This is no longer the case. Please understand that I grew up in a rural hunting culture, and watching the decline of the NRA was like watching a trusted friend become a murdering psychopath. I mention this only for context. Without a doubt, somebody is reading this and assuming "brainwashed libt***". Sorry, no. I'm not going to fit into any of the neat little boxes you've been told to believe in, so don't bother trying. I'm just not very suggestible. But try to look at this objectively, if you can. The latest propaganda put out by the NRA isn't just alarmingly Orwellian and irresponsible. It's dangerous, outright lies directed at people who are less discerning about what they will believe, and inclined to act on the misinformation provided. The NRA knows EXACTLY what they are doing. On the upside, as their message has gone more and more off the rails, their membership has dropped. Last year I looked into the specific numbers (and I encourage you to do the same. It's a much better use of time than arguing with what you don't want to hear!) and the percentage of Americans who owned guns was somewhere around 40%. Of those folks, only about 5% were NRA members. This may have changed since last year (check it out! I will share non-partisan links if you find them!)  Money HAS to be an issue here. And here is a big ol' question for ya: How does a lobby that represents such a small fraction of our population have more power over our government than the people who elected that government? And why aren't we losing our collective sh** over that? Because we should be!

I wouldn't be me if I didn't try to breakdown some of the proposals I've heard on social media. In the ban guns category, the most popular suggestion is to ban "assault rifles". I won't personally go into detail, but I will share this Wiki page with you: Federal Assault Weapons Ban  As with anything I post, if you don't trust the source, don't bother arguing with me about it. Do your own research. Learn some things. One of the unfortunate things about semi-automatic weapons (besides their obvious kill efficiency) is the ease in which they can be converted to automatic (which is illegal). They were designed to be easy to convert, and conversion supplies/kits/instructions are legal and readily available. This isn't by accident or oversight. IMHO, this needs to be addressed NOW, at the very least. I have friends who love their semis and are responsible with them. I've said I don't have a problem with these folks having them. But right now ANYONE can have them, right down to the dude arguing with the carrots in the grocery store (to be fair, that could be me on any given day as well, lol). That's not okay. The other popular suggestion is to ban guns entirely. That is a non-starter, what with the whole 2nd amendment and all. (Having said that, I wish people showed equal concern for the other amendments. Just sayin'.) And see above re: values and priorities of large groups of people.

Popular on the more guns side of the argument is the idea of armed guards at schools. The problems with that are many: There was an armed guard present at our most recent mass shooting, and that didn't stop it. In fact, there are armed guards at banks that still get robbed, in malls where items are still stolen and violence still occurs, and we've had presidents shot and/or killed SURROUNDED by highly trained, armed protectors. Personally, another issue for me is the normalizing of violence. This is a just me, opinion thing here, but I don't want to live in a culture that surrounds it's children with guns, or needs to. In my opinion, for a developed country, that is a HUGE fail. In the same category is arming teachers. I don't know who YOUR teachers were, but none of mine was Rambo. (I'm trying to imagine my gentle, elderly humanities teacher drawing down on an angry teenager with a semi-automatic. Yeah, not so much). Most of my mother's teachers were nuns. They could be scary, but seriously? Here's the biggest problem with that though: TEACHERS don't want that. You are asking them to be willing to commit suicide as part of their job description. We already have enough trouble finding and keeping good teachers, this expectation might just eliminate the profession altogether. We have made education so low on the priority list that we already have trouble funding schools, even to the point of providing basic supplies for the students. But now we suddenly have funds for tactical training and weapons? Um, huh?

Okay, here's the bit where I get personal. I don't want more guns. We have a huge issue with gun-related violence in this country, to the point we are uniquely violent within the developed world and getting more so. It's shameful. Having said that, I understand that it isn't just a gun problem. It IS a gun problem in that access is essentially unlimited. But there are other contributing factors, too, and I believe that we can't put all of our focus on one, single thing. We need to be willing to look at all the issues, and we need to study the issues in real time. In my fantasy world, lobbies no longer get to use money to influence policies. Our government is clearly a sh** show, let's DEAL with that. Taking away the financial influence would be a productive step in the right direction. We need to keep tabs on the folks who stockpile weapons. I don't mean 'Uncle Joe Hunter" with his cabinet full of hunting rifles. I happen to think a lot of 'Uncle Joe'. He's a decent guy, a good friend and neighbor, and he just wants to go hunting with his friends come November. I'm talking about the angry, paranoid guy who thinks his lack of impulse control and his anger management issues make him AWESOME. This guy won't take responsibility for his own behavior. He's an entitled, giant toddler who thinks everybody better tip toe around him, or else. And he loves to collect weapons and brag. THIS guy needs to not have guns. We have to find a fair and logical way to make sure of that, while leaving 'Uncle Joe' to do his thing. I don't have the answers here, really. I'm just a heartsick person who can't take any more of this sh**. I just know that the only way we are going to fix this and have a country worth living in is to want to solve the problem, and to want that more than we want to "win".

Giving Thanks

Sometimes, being a writer with a global audience has it's temptations. Just lately, I've been biting my proverbial tongue so hard I've damn near bitten it off. I'm going to be grateful, dammit, even if it requires me to do the psychological equivalent of sticking my fingers in my ears and singing "La la la" as loudly as I can to muffle all other *sounds*.

There are things in life we don't choose. Sure, there's a faction of folks who are aggressively "positive" (It's a thing), who like to talk about how all things in life are a personal choice. I have theories about them that range from them being in total denial at least some of the time, to thinking maybe they've never really dealt with anything beyond the average, human-life kinds of stuff. Who knows? I see the value in the full range of human emotions, but obviously prefer to feel calm and happy, so I get the motivation here. Having said that, I come from an understanding that some of the most truly sh***y things that happen are the results of bullsh** actions taken by other people, or circumstances beyond our control in general. There's been an awful lot of the former going on lately, and it's forced me to make some choices about how to respond. That's something we always have control over: our own behavior. Sometimes I BARELY have control over that, but kudos to me for at least trying :-)

So what if my building manager wants to have my car towed (out of the parking space that I pay for) right before Thanksgiving because my registration is two weeks late? That's HER karma, not mine. (FYI, I just parked elsewhere until I can deal with it on Tuesday, neener, neener!)  I seethed and thought about it awhile, and considered that maybe it was worth a satisfying, politely-scathing email that cc'd her boss and sarcastically wished her a Happy Thanksgiving as well. Nope. Her Karma. I'll just deal with it Tuesday.

Annoying, sure. But it's the work drama has been the really sticky bit for me, and my real challenge in terms of disconnection. It's not even my *real* job, just my side hustle, but the dysfunction is hurting people I like. That makes it a little tougher to ignore. They re-hired an ex-employee who was a terrible employee on their first go-round, and who has an alarming criminal history. I'm very pro giving people second chances. We all screw up sometimes. But they didn't just hire this person back, they made them an assistant manager, giving this person some degree of power over their good and loyal employees who have put in the hours and done a good job. Does this person have any people skills whatsoever? Hell no. They have also chosen to speak badly of good people who have worked hard for them (which backfired, because literally everybody else knows the truth). They've lost good people already as a result of both of these situations. Is this my Karma? No, it is not. I know what happens next (I just watched a similar thing happen to another business. They lost all their qualified employees, had to shut their doors and have since declared bankruptcy. They are also under criminal investigation as we speak). But I care, so I want them to change course. I want to scream "YOUR BUSINESS IS YOUR EMPLOYEES, PRIORITIZE THEM!" from the top of my lungs, but to what end? Can I do anything about it? Nope, not a damned thing. What I can do is surround myself in an imaginary hamster ball of solitude, and go in, do my job, and leave. I will do that until the business collapses or until I can't do it anymore. And I'll cash my checks.

I know by now you're thinking "But where are the gratitudy parts? Where is the giving of thanks?" No worries, I'm getting there. I'm grateful that I can take a step back and not react (well, not react-ish. This post is arguably a reaction). Sometimes good things can come from a whole world of stupid. Who knows? Maybe I would have been given a big ticket on my way to the Thanksgiving festivities had my building manager not so kindly reminded me of my late registration. And in trying to distract myself from all the crazy at work, I found a way to finally tame the fire in my left butt cheek! (I have piriformis syndrome. It is literally a pain in the a**). I am calling that a major *good*. I was getting ready to sit on a tennis ball (again, some more) when I found this blog: Duncan Sports PT

So sometimes, things just work. Sometimes, there's peace in letting things go, and wisdom in knowing when that's appropriate. I've been doing it a lot lately. And I'm grateful that I know how and am able to. It's been a frequently repeated theme in my life, and I've had a lot of practice :-P

Moving on, I have a big turkey-day brouhaha to look forward to, family that I'm excited to see and an enormous pile of delicata squash to make into something yummy. Delicata is my FAVORITE squash, so I'm super stoked (Yeah, I have a favorite squash. It's not weird.) I have running to do, a posterior to rehab and Christmas crafting coming down the pike. I love this time of year, and it's that bigger picture that I'm choosing to embrace. The rest of it is out of my hands.

On that note, I wish you all a truly gluttonous, indulgent and awesome day filled with fun, good people and gratitude. I don't say it to my friends nearly enough, but I really do love you guys! Happy Thanksgiving!

Stop the Bus

When life would get to a point somewhere past ridiculous, my friend Dawn (AKA "Donna") used to say "Stop the bus, I want to get off".  It was silly, but somehow, nothing was quite able to sum up that particular state of mind quite so well as that statement. It just fit. I am currently experiencing one of those days. I wish there was a bus to stop. Figuratively, anyway, the bus I'm currently riding feels like it's careening down some random embankment, driven by a zombie, and I'm its hapless, helpless passenger just trying to hang on until it comes to a stop. My greatest hope is that when it does, it's still upright. Ahh...there are few things I like better than getting overly dramatic about bad days, so if you don't have the stomach for that sort of thing, you may want to get off this particular bus now.

I don't know where my car is. My daughter took it to work last night, and both the car and kid are still AWOL. Some days, I don't even feel like I actually own a car, unless it's time to pay one of the many car-related expenses. I said "You can use my car for work" She heard "You may take over my car, and my need for it will always be secondary to whatever you have going on". This is totally my fault. I hate playing taxi SO MUCH that it was a relief. But it has now reached the point of sublime ridiculousness. I don't like bringing the thunder, but if I don't I'm going to explode. Badness. I just have to keep reminding myself that yes, I actually DO own a car. MY car. MINE.

Don't get me wrong, my daughter has been in touch. This morning, at 4:00 AM. Then again at 6:00 AM. Then again at 9:00 AM. Ask me how fabulously I get on when I haven't slept. To say I feel prickly today is an understatement (and what an adorable little euphemism prickly is). I have decided to remain in my apartment for the safety of others. Well, except when I have to take my dog out, which happens. I will do my level best to NOT unleash the tides of doom on whichever unfortunate neighbor I happen to encounter en route. No promises though.

Did I mention that today was also 'sprinkler-test' day? That means the the sprinkler company is here all morning, setting off the alarms over and over again at random intervals. If that noise isn't enough to do in that last nerve that I hope I have, my screaming Doberman might just do it. When the alarms go off, the dog screams. AWESOME. Dobermans are a big dog and most people will tell you that they have a big, booming bark to go with their large size. But, (and all Doberman owners are very aware of this) they also have what I call 'tea-kettle' mode. They have a high-pitched, piercing shriek in their arsenal of sounds that is simply not to be believed until you experience it personally. It almost has a paralyzing effect on the nervous system in some odd, apparently supernatural way. My preference would be to get in my car and maybe take the dog somewhere until they are done, but ya know, I don't know where my car is.

Today is also one of those days when the folks I need to hear from are not getting back to me, and the folks I DON'T need to hear from won't leave me alone (and somebody keeps leaving voicemail messages on my cell phone, which is kind of new, and I don't know how to retrieve the messages). It's not a super day for chit chat. Trust me, you are SUPER psyched that I'm not answering the phone ;-)


Okay, so here's the game-plan: I'm going to hole-up until the storm passes. I can do this. I know that with a little bit of something chocolate and maybe a mocha latte, this day need not be an utter crisis. I promise I will not call you today, and I will not call my Mom. Her nerves and my nerves have a similar intolerance for utter madness. And yes, you may laugh as I am sure to do myself in a day or two. Until next time!

Rant Research

Orcas

So yeah, that last post was ranty. It happens. I try to stay positive and all warm and fuzzy, but sometimes things p*** me off and my thoughts go pear-shaped. There are worse things to be than human, I suppose. Before I get much further, first let me apologize for any grammar/spelling/typos. I'm having a carpal tunnel episode from hell, and my wrist is all bound up and in pain. Truthfully, there will probably be my usual amount of grammar/spelling/typos, but at least now I can blame my wrist ;-)

So I did some research on the things I was ripping on so I don't have the excuse of pleading ignorance. Ignorance makes me angry, especially when it's willful and there's no real excuse for it. So, let's start with rope halters since I've ripped on them on more than one occasion. I found this quote: "Rope halters convey a "message" to the horse. A typical flat halter is very difficult to train with because a horse can lean on it - making training difficult. Rope halters work because the relatively thin rope causes the horse to yield to their own pressure -- teaching them not to lean." (Site here).

Ah HA! I get it now. They are essentially prong collars for horses. No more, no less. As such, leaving them on during turnout, trailering, etc. is not the norm, but abuse of the tool. In fact, they can be much easier on the horse than a nose-chain (which any of us who has worked with large or hot horses are very familiar with). It would appear that the whole "Natural Horsemanship" thing is loosely based on Vaquero traditions, or at least that seems to be where it finds its origins. Vaquero horsemanship is actually pretty interesting, and a system that seems to turn out very capable working horses suitable for all ranch-related duties. That's pretty darned respectable. As far as it relates to the classical system that I'm accustomed to, it's a completely different goal, but approached slowly and systematically in a way that sounds very familiar. Okay, cool.  I guess my problems with "Natural Horsemanship" is that I've encountered so many horses trained in this method that were behavioral nightmares, owners who were afraid to ride, techniques that I don't get at all (the whole "shaking the rope" thing makes me crazy. If an experienced horse person doesn't know what the horse is supposed to do, how is the horse supposed to guess? I'm still not sure it's a real 'thing' in NH, but I've seen so much of it) and the crazy notion that buying a few expensive CDs and special equipment is the key to understanding and working with your horse. That's not just wrong, it's dangerous. I also do NOT dig how every fellow with a system has a bunch of glib sayings and sounds suspiciously like a snake-oil salesman, selling the idea that their system is all you'll ever need. If you dig past all the nonsense (and cult-like following), use your common sense and work with an experienced horse-person who is in line with your goals, NH can be a nice enhancement and provide some direction. On it's own? not so much. If a person is into "Natural Horsemanship", they may want to go all the way and check out the real Vaquero system. Update 6/5/14: In my research, I found a cowboy that I really like. Seriously. You can find out more about him here: brannaman.com What you won't get: Slick patter, catch-phrases and a flashy website selling lots of outrageously-priced goods. What you will get: Compassion and common sense from a hard-working person who seems way too focused on "doing" to be spending a lot of energy on "selling". Respect.

I look forward to looking deeper into that system myself, as one of my personal equestrian goals is to trail ride like it's my job, see the country and maybe write about it (and make my sister go with me and take LOTS of pictures). Contrary to popular belief, a trail horse isn't simply a horse that isn't suited to a sport (and they can totally BE a sport horse, for that matter), but a fit, specialized animal trained to cope with all manner of shenanigans. Yeah, new, non-job-related research!

My opinion of a strictly behavioral approach to dog training hasn't changed though. I recently watched the documentary Blackfish, which did ZERO to change my mind on that score. I won't spoil (okay, a bit of a spoiler) for you, and in fact I think everyone should watch the movie. It's a commentary on what the twisted lifestyle of a wild animal in captivity can do to the psychology of that animal, and it's really tragic for all involved. Add to that a training system that focuses on training behaviors without any understanding of the animal they're actually working with (who needs to know anything about orcas when you know all about behavior modification, right? *Headdesk*), no management (precautions taken) because of the HUBRIS of thinking behavioral training is all you'll ever need (even though it's a system that relies entirely on the cooperation of the animal. But hey, animals are programmable robots who react the same to the same things all the time. Especially large, predatory wild animals. Everybody knows THAT). Add to that a lot of withholding info, complete denial, and the blaming OF TRAINERS for accident and deaths, and you pretty much have yourself a recipe for disaster. The trainer-blaming (even though filmed footage doesn't support trainer-error as a cause of ANYTHING) and complete denial are, unfortunately, familiar themes. In Blackfish, it was deadly to the trainers. In the world of dog training when things go wrong, it becomes deadly to the dogs. Okay, so strict adherence to a sliver of scientific theory as the end-all be-all is always going to be a rant for me. It's like "Hey, train these killer whales blind-folded and with one hand tied behind your back", and if you fail, OF COURSE it is your fault. Fortunately, OSHA stepped in and imposed some barriers and safety standards, but it took a court battle. Of course it did. In an ideal world, there would be no wild animals held captive and trained for our amusement. Hopefully, we evolve and develop a compassion-bone sooner rather than later on that score.

Re: my electronic issues? My computer updated itself again. I think it did it just to spite me. It was all "Neener neener" while it wasted my time, taking forever to make changes to itself that I didn't need or want. Uncle! In revenge, my font size has gone wacky for no apparent reason, and I can't fix it.See...I'm not imagining things!!

The REAL Zombie Apocalypse

The calm before the storm...

I spend a lot of time people-watching. I don't mean in a creepy, voyeuristic sort of way, but just observy.  I am my daughter's ride to and from work so I spend an inordinate amount of time just sitting in my car and waiting. I pass the time by listening to the radio and watching folks to-ing and fro-ing about their lives. This time of year, I am struck by the large number of people who accessorize their cute, woolen hats and puffy coats with incredibly sour faces. I get it, I really do. The frost sets into my bones right about this time of year and doesn't fully thaw until sometime around mid-May or so despite my best efforts to keep warm. I've lived in Vermont my whole life (except for three years I spent in Maine) so you'd think I'd be acclimated by now. Oh, I suppose I am. But 'acclimated' and 'happily adapted' are two very different vibes. Mostly, I suck it up and deal, just like the folks I watch on an almost daily basis.

Early mornings are the most entertaining time. Many people have yet to imbibe their morning caffeine and the combination of lack of coffee AND puffy clothes is pretty amusing. The usual winter shuffle is accentuated significantly when folks are still half asleep. These slow, lurching and only half-aware folks that I see on a regular basis have given rise to a theory: The zombie apocalypse will not be brought about by reanimated corpses, but by bundled-up, pre-coffee Northerners on their way to Starbucks.

Imagine if you will, the frozen North if not a cup of Joe (not even at Starbucks!) were to be found. It would be disastrous, the casualties immense. It would start at local Starbucks locations, but it would spread from there as even the (usually very caffeinated) baristas join in the desperate, lurching mob. The words "coffee", "tea" and "latte" would be grunted repeatedly with ever-decreasing enunciation as the now mindless hoard overtakes the city. Those few who had stockpiled their coffee and were therefore coherent run screaming in confusion as the slow but relentless mob continues on their tenacious course to find the one thing that sustains them...a cup of coffee. I can picture the scene: Glass breaks as Abercrombie and Hollister employees (who subsist almost entirely on Starbucks) break free from their respective pods and join the lurching mob.

Where will it end? It could end several ways I suppose. The best case scenario is that someone, somewhere is able to provide these "zombies" with their much-needed caffeine before too much damage is done. But the most likely conclusion is all manner of mayhem and shenanigans occur causing much damage and destruction, and then everyone falls asleep because they didn't have their coffee.

My daughter really needs her own car.

Jarring

Photo: en.wikipedia.org

I think I may be going through an over-sensitive period of time in my life. Either that, or circumstances are conspiring to converge on a singular point in time with the express aim of making me profoundly uncomfortable. Don't get me wrong: I am on the verge of success. No matter what happens or how it ultimately plays out, I am about to be a published author. That is reality. No matter how much money is involved or how much criticism I might receive (which is 'none' on both counts, currently), I have accomplished that much. I am proud of that, especially in light of the obstacles I have needed to plow through to get there.

I love writing. In person I don't express myself frequently or well. I have difficulties with emoting. Part of it is vulnerability, I do realize this, but part of it is that I just don't know how without sounding like I have some form of Tourette's. It is what it is. Sometimes I come across as unfeeling though, and that has been to my detriment. But on the rare occasion I express emotion, I have often been told that "I shouldn't feel that way because"...fill in blank, or "It could be worse so consider yourself lucky", so why bother? And why give people the tools to hurt me, anyway? Any one thing might not touch off this little crisis of confidence, but when they pile up a bit (which they sometimes do...what IS that?) it can feel like a football tackle. Metaphorically, of course. Well, mostly. But I'll get to that.

I love the people in my life. I usually feel loved, too. No small accomplishment considering how isolated I am, but I'm fortunate to be surrounded by good people. Sometimes I feel left out, and sometimes I feel left out and lied to. And sometimes people I care about unwittingly promote viewpoints that are actively harmful or insulting and they are so far removed (read: lucky, fortunate, etc.) from the reality of others that they can't even see HOW their opinion is harmful and insulting. How do I handle that? Most of the time I keep quiet. I know these folks are good-hearted people and just don't know any better. Lately, I can't keep quiet. I didn't go so far as to say "That point of view might make YOU feel all warm and fuzzy inside, but it kills dogs" or "Pretending to be poor for a couple of weeks and writing about how awesome you were at it is insulting to folks who are actually struggling and don't have the choice", so kudos to me for having at least that much restraint. I'm working on it. Yeah, I know. It's MY behavior I need to worry about, nobody else's. Someday when I have the resources, I will actually be able to DO something about the things that drive me bananas and not just whine impotently to myself.

I was going over these sorts of thoughts in my mind the other night, sitting at a red light in my car and listening to the radio. My thoughts were a gazillion miles away (it's a real number, I swear) when WHAM; I was rear-ended by some dirtbag. We were at a busy intersection, so when he came swaying up to my window, smelling of booze, I told him to pull ahead, out of the traffic (and under some lights). What he did instead was just take off. It was jarring. It was jarring on both an emotional and physical level. Yes, my car is damaged. No my insurance won't cover it (all I can afford is liability). So now, I will just drive around in a broken car until whenever. Thanks dirtbag, for slamming into me, for hurting me and breaking my sh**, and failing to take any responsibility for it at all. I know, I "shouldn't feel that way", so I'll just do what I usually do and lick my wounds by myself, and put the rest of it 'in the vault'. You can just go about your life slamming into people and taking no responsibility for it whatsoever. Lucky you. Okay, that got a little deeper and a little more 'inclusive' than I intended, but it is what it is.

Okay, that concludes this pity party for one. Onward and upward!

When Things Go to Hell

A beautiful sunrise for you all:-)

What a week, eh? As I write this, the police have already killed one of the suspects in the Boston Marathon bombing and are in hot pursuit of the other. And it's not the only tragedy of the week. This post is not about tragedy though, so I'm not dwelling there or getting into all the reasons why we should be fearful or sad. I think human beings are far too aware of that already. I'm more interested in how we can react positively to these tragic situations. In that light, I would first like to offer my love and condolences to all those lost and injured, and their loved ones. While it's always a good idea to forget our sorrow, people should never be forgotten.

I have been largely impressed by the role of social media this week, and incredibly impressed by my friends. Social media has helped to keep people in touch with each other, and positive, loving posts have been passed around relentlessly; far more than fearful and ugly ones. One of my favorites has been a quote by Fred Rogers: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping." The quote became so popular that it made the news.

And people DID look for the helpers, and BECAME the helpers in droves. Humanity at it's worst was offset completely by an overwhelming and heartwarming show of humanity at it's most-loving best. And the media actually reported the positive! I LOVE that when a small minority tries to impose their ugliness on the world, the world responds with ever-increasing kindness and love. That's what I will take away from everything that happened this week. I will use these tragic events to strengthen my faith in humanity and to increase my love of same. Imagine how powerful that sentiment can be as it ripples out and touches us all, encouraging everyone to do the same. It seems to be where most of us are at, anyway. I understand that it's more difficult for some.

I think of it like panning for gold. If you simply eliminate the focus on things that cause pain and heartbreak, you will be left with everything good. That's what you keep and take with you. The more you practice "panning", the more adept you become at sifting through and eliminating the scurf. I will admit that at times, it really IS work, but it's worth it.

So today I offer you my faith and love, and I promise to put that energy forward into the world on behalf of those who have suffered. In that spirit I have found a photo a beautiful sunrise for you all, to remind you that no matter how bad the storm, the sun always rises again to bring us light, life and hope:-)

Time

I had a birthday last week. I love my birthday, even at my age, because I think of it as my own personal holiday. I make it all about me, and the people around me tend to allow and perpetuate the indulgence. I had to do math (never fun for me) to figure out how old I am because I tend to forget at this point. I think beyond a certain age the numbers become less relevant. I remember how excited I was when I turned 10 because because I was "finally double digits", and the excitement of 13 because I was a "real teen-ager". I remember my not-so-sweet 16, and the ambivalence of turning 21; "Yeah! I can drink legally", but big whoopdee-doo for someone who grew up on the Canadian border;-)

I don't really mind getting older because of the learning curve. My daughter asked me once if I missed my 20's...oh HELL no. I've learned a lot since then, not the least of which is how much there is yet to learn, and I wouldn't go back for anything. In our 20's we tend to know it all. Funny how that works:-) To say I didn't have my priorities straight would be an understatement too. Let's just say I logged some serious mirror time between my single-parenting duties. Funny how when I started worrying more about what was on the inside, the outside, and what people thought of it, seemed far less relevant. I think young people almost always have to go through the 'mirror' phase, but I don't miss it.

One thing I will say about getting older is that time seems to move faster. We understand that there is nothing we could own and no amount of money as valuable as our time. It's something nobody can give us, and yet we are so cavalier about how little we sell our hours and days for. We allow ourselves and our time to be undervalued by others because we undervalue ourselves. It's so common that it's largely unquestioned, and we consider ourselves lucky that somebody else is willing to pay us for our time at all. But each hour, each minute, it's OURS and we can't ever get it back. We think crazy thoughts like "sometimes we have to make sacrifices and that's just what we've gotta do". Um, do we? Or could we just stop being all martyred long enough to realize that we are all good at something, we all have dreams and goals and nobody's dreams and goals are greater or less than anybody else's. So if we're selling our time in pursuit of someone else's success, shouldn't that be worth something? If I want to pursue something free or dirt cheap because it has personal value to me (like this blog), that is my choice, my decision to make. But if I am in pursuit of someone else's goal I expect to be appropriately compensated for my time. MY time. On the flipside of this situation, if you can't adequately or fairly compensate someone for the time they are giving to pursuit of YOUR success, then you should probably do it all yourself. If you can't, then you may want to reevaluate the importance of your workforce and compensate them accordingly. I'm just sayin'. There's a karmic bit to this too. And believe you me, I know all about giving my time away for a pittance. Never again. It's amazing how the Universe cooperates when you finally decide that you are worth MORE.

We all are. We each have to take responsibility for deciding what we are worth, and to do so unapologetically. We are each the Kings or Queens of our own time and ourselves, and there's no price worth giving that away for a pittance. Too many times I've heard someone say "I guess that's good enough" or "at least I have a job". I think that's fine-temporarily. If you just need to get from point A to point B until you can do something worthwhile, well, that's life sometimes. Sometimes compensation isn't monetary, and that's okay too if it's giving something back to you. Some things are even better than money if you have what you need. Settling for years though, not cool. Getting comfortable with being underpaid and undervalued is one of the saddest ways to spend your time that I could ever imagine. But you have to believe in possibilities to pursue your own goals, and years of being undervalued by yourself and others can all but destroy that ability. Sometimes years of being told that you work hard and if you're lucky you have what you need, but BIG successes are for OTHER people is the mantra to overcome. But ultimately, this time is yours and mine and the choices are ours to make. Cool, huh?

Gun Control

A musket, popular when the constitution was written

I don't have a strong opinion one way or the other about gun control. Maybe it's because my life has never been ruined by gun violence. Maybe it's because I live in a  state with very few gun laws (except those pertaining to hunters) and very little gun violence. Most gun-related death here in Vermont (knock on wood) is the result of  a hunting accident. I don't know if we're lucky or smart. I just know that living in this sort of environment has provided me the luxury of not needing to have a strong opinion. It's not a luxury that everybody has. Even so, as I peruse Facebook (okay, yeah. I spend too much time on Facebook). I don't see much in the way of anti-gun propaganda, but I see tons and tons of pro-gun stuff. It seems a bit unbalanced (an appropriate word in many ways;-). There are so many angry people reacting strongly to a situation that isn't really even a 'thing'.

Okay, a bit of advice here: If you want to make an argument against gun control, you may want to avoid the following: Threats of violence, joking about shooting people for being on your lawn, comparing guns to cars or pencils or any other inane and irrelevant comparison that screams "I SO don't get it!"; over-the-top rage, expressions of bunker-mentality, anti-government and conspiracy references, hyperbole to make a point (eg, "Obama's gun ban" doesn't actually exist, so referencing it angrily and repeatedly makes you sound, um...let's go with 'uninformed') or really anything that may imply you are mad as hell and have no impulse control. I'm just sayin'. There's nothing that says "guns are a bad idea" quite like an angry, reactive person holding a gun (or threatening to hold one).

I believe in the second amendment, I believe in the spirit of the second amendment too. But we have to remember that when the constitution was written, the weapons at our disposal were very different. Our culture was very different. Let me be clear here that I haven't researched the numbers and this is all just opinion, but we have do something. I mean, this is sort of ridiculous if you think about it; we react to everything that is potentially dangerous to the point of redundancy, but we can't touch an item that is actually intended to cause bodily harm without a whole bunch of folks having a total meltdown. Are we really so immature and ridiculous that we can't have a productive and rational discussion about potential solutions? I don't think ANYBODY is suggesting disarming citizens, and it's not something I would support either. But do average citizens need to have access to weapons designed to do maximum damage in a combat situation? I don't think so. In fact, I can't think of a rational argument (remember I said rational) to support such a scenario, but I can think of several reasons 'why not' (as can the families and friends of victims of the many mass slaughters that have occurred in this country in the last several years). Yes, you can kill someone with a car, or a pencil, or hell, even dental floss if you are so inclined. But you can't mow down a room full of innocent people in under a minute.

I don't have a lot of respect for people who like to come across all "bad-ass" because they have guns. It doesn't take a great deal of either 'bad' or 'ass' to own a firearm and threaten someone with it. I do respect people who can solve their problems rationally, guns or no. I respect people who think before they react, who try to see both sides of an argument and who have enough common sense to work through issues and help find solutions. I respect people who can form their own opinions and don't need a well-funded special interest group to feed their opinion to them, even if they happen to be members of the aforementioned group.

We have a lot to think about in this country right now. We have a very real problem with violence. I don't believe that guns are the cause, but they are certainly a means of facilitation. Their misuse is a symptom of a much larger problem that needs to be addressed and some emergency action needs to take place on several fronts, guns included. We can't do anything though, if we aren't even willing to have an open discussion.

Being Human

It has been an interesting week on the Facebook-front. While it is generally my practice to minimize any and all social media nonsense, and to relegate it to "entertainment" status, I am realizing it really DOES accurately reflect the opinions and beliefs of actual people. Being old and therefore dismissive of social media no longer renders it irrelevant. Scary. This week's hot topic (at least within my FB circle) has been women's rights. It has been a bumpy, scary tour through the various opinions this week, and a very enlightening one. While I prefer to dwell in the realm of fiction, to NOT be angry and to cruise through my life secure in the knowledge that better folks than I are in charge and making sure that all the right things are happening, this is a luxury I don't feel entitled to any longer.

I think I have always been a feminist. Truth be told, it isn't something I ever thought much about. I have always agreed that women should get equal pay and have equal rights on all fronts, but I know that men and women are different from each other and always thought those differences were kind of cool. Equal, but different. Seems like a pretty reasonable assessment, eh?

I read a book called "The Handmaid's Tale"  in college. It was published in 1985. If you want to look it up, its Wiki page is here:  The Handmaid's Tale  Just briefly, here is a line of the description:

"Set in the near future, in a totalitarian Christian theocracy which has overthrown the United States government, The Handmaid's Tale explores themes of women in subjugation and the various means by which they gain agency." 

Back in 1985, to say the themes in this book seemed unlikely is an understatement. I thought there were some really cool, far out ideas within the story (the idea that we would have bank cards instead of checks or cash seemed especially far out and futuristic) but I felt pretty secure in knowing the war for women's rights had been won. A done deal. I no longer feel so sure.

There are people who are not just angry, but actually up in arms about women having rights to their reproductive health. There are organizations that have actually singled out women's health issues as something that should be excluded from insurance coverage. At first, I thought it had to be some kind of a joke. I mean, employers and agencies who provide health insurance for people just provide what is needed, correct? Nobody, I mean nobody would ever tolerate one gender being singled out and picked on for one specific health care need, right? That would just be ridiculous! But it's happening. It's happening under the guise of "women want us to pay for their abortions". Newsflash, angry people: No federal funds are used to pay for abortions. Period. A ruling back in 1976 decided that, and it still stands. The exception is in the case of rape. My opinion here? If you want this to go away, make rape go away. Very simple. Even a caveman could understand it. Well, in theory. But there are people who are angry about women having abortions in the case of rape and would like nothing better than to take that right away. Why? Are there people who are so hell bent on saving fetal life that the life of the woman, the VICTIM, becomes irrelevant?

The part I am having even more trouble with (I mean besides the complete disregard for a living, breathing cognizant human being that's been relegated to nothing more than incubator status) is that those same people screaming "save that baby" won't give a rat's behind if that child goes hungry every night because it's living on welfare. Then it's just another dirt molecule to put down and dehumanize. But hey, it's alive, right? We can all sleep at night knowing we did the "right" thing.

Okay, I don't want to be angry. I am a Christian and don't like the idea of abortion on many levels. I am also a woman, a rape victim, and someone who has more than two brain cells to rub together. It's more than an abortion issue though, it's birth control. Somehow that's up for debate too. Condoms aren't, Viagra isn't; but birth control for women is suddenly a big deal. From my point of view, don't even bother with the Viagra if I don't get my birth control. Just sayin'. It's funny how rarely it's the men left alone to raise the children, isn't it? I've spent half my life as a single parent, as did my mother. Yeah, great judgement men. Can you please make all my decisions for me? And yet when it's time for the government to discuss women's issues, it's a panel of men that's assembled.

Don't get me wrong, I love men. There are some really fabulous guys out there; wonderful Dads, devoted and respectful husbands and all around great folks. I had a grandfather in this category. Even guys I disagree with fiercely are still basically decent human beings at their core. But this isn't a guy thing. A guy can't relate here, and can't understand how incredibly disrespectful it is to make consideration for the woman last in decisions about her own body. It's dehumanizing. Some women disagree with me, and it makes me sad. It makes me sad because if we won't stand up for our own humanity here, we will loose it. This isn't about politics or political leaning (on some level there is a connection, but it's not really the point) this is about being human, and the right to remain so. If you don't want to be loud and obnoxious, don't want to protest or be outspoken, that's okay. Just don't be complacent. Think about it.

The High Cost of Profiting from Fraud

I don't want to be angry today. It's an encouraging, hot, sunny day in a long line of encouraging, hot, sunny days. It's a Saturday, the day that others are out and about so we are in and chillin' in the AC. Murphy and I enjoyed a nice mani-pedi this morning (neither of us like polish) and I have a nice, strong pot of fresh coffee keeping me motivated. It's summer time, and the livin' is easy. But I'm not just angry, I'm P***ed. I often find myself so when I see someone profiting from fraud, especially when it's at my expense (and at the expense of others like me) Call me crazy. Today's perpetrator is a company called Free My Paws, who claim to be "the resource for service animal owners". There are LOTS of companies that sell gear for service dogs, so what's so wrong with this one?

First, a little background. The service dog "industry" is largely unregulated. This has been found necessary because of the wide range of needs of legitimately disabled handlers. Imposing specific tests on SD/handler teams would mean that some folks with significant need would be unable to have a SD. Even so, it is widely accepted that wherever it is possible, a service dog should complete a Canine Good Citizen test to determine suitability prior to beginning their service dog training and take a Public Access Test at the direction of a professional trainer to ensure that the dog is ready to work outside the home. Generally speaking, disabled folks who rely on service dogs work very hard at ensuring that their dogs can perform as needed, and do so without public inconvenience.

As I mentioned, there are many companies that cater to the needs of service dog handlers. They provide goods to better facilitate the team, and in general, make life easier. They don't ask for any kind of verification either. The difference here is, they don't tell you how to pass off your pet as a service dog just so you can take them everywhere with you. Free My Paws does, and they seem to have no problem at all with what they are doing. Check out this video: Free My Paws website video . There is so much wrong with this I don't even know where to begin.

Let's start with the Q&A section (which is, btw, exceptionally offensive to folks who have legitimate disabilities, pretty much ensuring that only fraudulent users are going to shop FMP)

If you yourself would like to perpetrate fraud, be warned. These folks gloss over some pretty important points in order to convince the pet-owning public that anyone can take their dog anywhere, it's easy. I won't go down the whole Q&A list, but I'll pull out some of the more disgusting examples:

Q: What is a Service Animal?
A. The ADA defines a Service Animal as any Guide Dog, Signal Dog, or other animal individually trained to provide assistance to an individual with a disability, so long as the person’s disability falls under the ADA’s definition of physical or mental impairment or condition.

Wrong.


Here is the ADA's definition (as found here):
"Service animals are defined as dogs that are individually trained to do work or perform tasks for people with disabilities. Examples of such work or tasks include guiding people who are blind, alerting people who are deaf, pulling a wheelchair, alerting and protecting a person who is having a seizure, reminding a person with mental illness to take prescribed medications, calming a person with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) during an anxiety attack, or performing other duties. Service animals are working animals, not pets. The work or task a dog has been trained to provide must be directly related to the person’s disability. Dogs whose sole function is to provide comfort or emotional support do not qualify as service animals under the ADA."

As much as FMP would like to gloss over the "training, work and task" part to encourage "Joe pet owner" to just throw a vest on his pet dog, that part is the essence of a service dog. Yes, they do mention "training", but they don't elaborate and they stop short of discussing the severity and reality of actual disabilities.


Here's my favorite:
Q: I don’t think I am disabled, so do I qualify?
A: You may not think that you’re disabled—yet, you still may be legally “disabled” under the ADA. Just go through our Disability Self-Assessment Test which tracks the ADA’s definitional hoops.

Are you F'ing kidding me? Believe you me, folks with disabilities that are severe enough to warrant the assistance of a service dog are not asking themselves this question. FMP has to know that, but they don't care. They encourage people to find an excuse, a reason that entitles them to take their pet wherever they go. It's no better than "I have a touch of asthma sometimes, I'm entitled to park in a handicapped spot".


And this, the real purpose of these folks:
Q: Does my ID Card expire? A. Yes, the ID Cards are valid for 1 year. In order to remain compliant with most transport administrations requirement that documentation be current within one year, we require our clients to renew their IDs each year. Note that the same rules may also apply to any Doctor's certificates you provide airlines when travelling. If you purchased your ID as part of a kit, an ID renewal is available for $19.99 per annum (normally $39.99).

Guess what folks, as any legitimate service dog handler will tell you, ID cards are NOT NECESSARY.

From the ADA: When it is not obvious what service an animal provides, only limited inquiries are allowed. Staff may ask two questions: (1) is the dog a service animal required because of a disability, and (2) what work or task has the dog been trained to perform. Staff cannot ask about the person’s disability, require medical documentation, require a special identification card or training documentation for the dog, or ask that the dog demonstrate its ability to perform the work or task.

Even so, ID cards can make life easier. And they can be purchase at any service dog store for about $20. And they don't expire. At least they mentioned a letter from a doctor, which DOES need to be current within one year. While medical documentation of the specifics of your disability are not allowed, if you want to travel it is expected that you provide a letter from your doctor stating that you are disabled and require a service dog. I'm sure there are doctors who have no problem at all with lying, but at least this requirement makes it more difficult for the fakes. Not only does a person need to have a disability under the law, they must have a DOCUMENTED disability, and a doctor's letter confirming this. Nobody is allowed to ask what the disability is, but you must have proof. In my experience (and I fly with my dog regularly), transportation agencies are far more concerned with doctor-verification than with some ID you purchased online.


I guess the most reprehensible part of what Free My Paws is doing, is exploiting the ADA and in turn, risking the rights of legitimate service dog handlers. They are saying (and carefully, within barely legal parameters) "Hey, this is vague enough that YOU TOO may get to experience the joys of bringing your pet with you everywhere, come spend money here and we'll help make that happen". And why is this not okay? Well, the easy answer is because it makes light of the plight of those with legitimate need. But the biggest consequence that I've personally witness is the prominence of ill-mannered "service dogs". Pet owners largely don't grasp the reality of having your dog go with you everywhere, and are unprepared (as are the dogs) for the experience. I have seen dogs licking plates in restaurants, running off-leash at the beach, barking in movie theaters and walking up to strangers for a pat on the head, all while wearing a vest declaring them a "service dog". NONE of this behavior is okay or acceptable while on the job, but it's what the public sees. It's what gatekeepers at businesses see, it's what the travel industry sees. And it makes life that much harder for those with real need, whose dogs are trained and well-prepared for the rigors of public access. If it continues, it may force changes in the laws that could significantly harm the cause of the truly disabled. In short (yeah, I know...too late for that), Free my Paws is doing harm to the disabled community, just to make a buck, and it's reprehensible.


On the upside, fraudulent service dog handlers are frequently 'outed' by their dog's behavior, and the public does have recourse: From the ADA: A person with a disability cannot be asked to remove his service animal from the premises unless: (1) the dog is out of control and the handler does not take effective action to control it or (2) the dog is not housebroken. When there is a legitimate reason to ask that a service animal be removed, staff must offer the person with the disability the opportunity to obtain goods or services without the animal’s presence.

While it's true that real service dogs make mistakes, they are few and far between  and tend to be promptly dealt with by the handler.


I know I shouldn't take the behavior of  Free My Paws so personally, but they minimize the legitimate difficulties of living with a disability by turning it into nothing more than an excuse to take your dog everywhere. It's disgusting, and I wish there was something that could be done about it. I guess the only thing that I or people like me can do is be sure to purchase our equipment from legitimate sources and to spread the word. I know that within our community at the very least, any dog sporting FMP equipment will be immediately identifiable as a fraud.

The meaning of life...sort of

I don't react well to bad news. Okay, that's an understatement. I am the Queen of Totally Freaking Out. It should be bestowed upon me as an official tile. Yes, I really am that good. It sucks, to be honest. The ease with which I panic makes me want to panic. And it really is as dysfunctional as it sounds. Okay, so then what happens? Well, after going completely around the bend, I get logical. That's the part I like.

I got notice today that my rent is going up. I kind of expected that it would, and was already anticipating having to pull another 50 bucks or so out of thin air. I've had numerous and seemingly arbitrary expense hikes over the years; some of them have been life altering, but mostly they just serve to keep the ground ever shifting beneath my feet. Wouldn't want to feel too safe and secure now, would we? Well, maybe not, but I'll come back to that. I think having people shooting each other in my parking lot (one resulting in murder) is enough to tweak anybody's equilibrium all by itself, but it wouldn't be full-on freak-worthy without a rent hike. And this year's rent hike is of the life-altering variety: a whopping $140/month increase (which completely fails to be offset by my $25/month raise). Yes, I know. I'm getting totally hosed. I assure you, I freaked out fully and completely in a manner that would make any bat-sh** crazy, straight-jacketed nut-job (and it's perfectly okay to say that if I am one) person proud. I gave Crazy-town a thorough visit, saw all the sights and the museum, and I even had some coffee at the Crazy-town Cafe. So now what? As tempting as it is to settle in at Crazy town, it totally falls into the "great place to visit but I wouldn't want to live there" category.

Okay, logic time. Cool, Aquarian logic. It's time to go back to survival mode...I've done it before. I don't want to do it again, but as I think I may have mentioned a time or two, my life in it's current incarnation has very little to do with what I want. So why not take it to the extreme? I guess I'm railing against the idea a bit because I thought (okay hoped, but close enough) that by now, I would be in a place where things were getting better, but instead I'm having to let even more go. The stressful part is that there really isn't much left. I thought about giving up food, but apparently that's contraindicated for anyone who wishes to remain alive, and I definitely do. I can't give up the internet because I need it. I can't help but believe that the only way out of this situation is to keep my nose to the grindstone with my writing, and to be persistent. I don't know why I believe that, but it's something that lives on a gut level so I'm going with it. It's the only certainty I have. I also need to learn how to not let the second book become a distraction from finishing up the work on the first. And if that's not bad enough, the ideas for number 3 are already starting to float around like dark little shadows in shallow water; not distinct in shape but definitely present.  Maybe I can escape into my own stories once the stories aren't about me. At least that seems appealing. The first book is my story, I escaped the house in real life so there's no desire to escape into it in fantasy. The second book is purely fiction. The second is whatever I want it to be, and I can't begin to tell you how much that notion appeals to me.

 In the world of my stories, it's all about what I want, unlike my life right now. In the world of my stories, I really have a say, I control what happens. And it's AWESOME. I don't think that's a horrid place to be, and it's one of those things that can't be taken away randomly for some arbitrary reason. It's mine, free and clear. And it will assist me in making my real life mine too, I have no doubt. I can take heart in knowing that no matter what happens, "someday" gets a little closer with every passing moment.

Maybe that's not terribly logical, but this is: I have a roof, I have a bed. I have enough to survive. And yes, Mom, I can move my arms and legs. I have hope, and I have dreams too, and I'm lucky enough to posses tools that just may bring those dreams to fruition. Hey, it's much better odds than playing the lottery;-)

The Plight of the Horse

"Big Lick" TWH

   I've been watching what's going on in the Tennessee Walking Horse industry, with horror, for almost as long as I've been alive. I've always liked the horses (TWH's are some of the kindest, sweetest horses around), but couldn't imagine what on Earth their 'trainers' were thinking.

   When I was a kid I rode saddleseat, the discipline of the 'park horse' (and the Tennessee Walker, but they have their own spin on it).  I had a Morgan who was shod naturally, didn't have his tail set, moved naturally and I couldn't have been happier. Even so, my discipline required a double bridle with a thin bradoon and a long-shanked (about 8") curb. For folks who aren't familiar with horses, it's a pretty darned severe combination of bits. Even as a kid I realized this and opted to use a very mild snaffle bridle about 90% of the time. I saved my double bridle for the occasional show or clinic that I would attend, and was very light-handed on those occasions. It wasn't warnings from instructors that helped me decide to ride in a snaffle, it was common sense. It was observing my horse, and it was a decision informed by empathy for an animal that I loved. I refused to engage in some of the scarier 'training' practices that were embraced by so many in the saddleseat discipline; things like weighted shoes, chains on the pasterns or scaring the horse around the arena with a milk jug full of rocks to give him more 'fire'. And Morgans have it easy compared to Saddlebreds and Tennessee Walking Horses. My horse was a seasoned competitor. While I have no doubt that some of these unsavory things were visited on him at some point in his career, I preferred to keep him enthusiastic by getting him out of the ring and trail riding. Bareback. Sometimes we won, sometimes we didn't but my priorities were in the right place and I felt good about what I was doing: The welfare of the horse came first.

So if kindness is common sense to a relatively uneducated kid, what's the deal with all the folks who should know better? There are SO many things in the horse industry that drive me bananas (breeding crappy grade horses, breeding horses for color at the expense of health and conformation, breeding HYPP Y/Y and Y/N quarter horses, people having more horses than they can feed or train properly, curb bits used with tie-downs, rollkur, etc) but there are few things that get to me quite like the treatment of Tennessee Walking horses. These horses not only have weighted shoes, but padded as well. Imagine weighing 1100 pounds and having to wear high heels all day, every day, that you cant take off. In addition to these pads, caustic chemicals are used on the pasterns (just above the hoof) to cause pain and then heavy chains are placed on the pasterns to add weight and create further irritation. This is done to enhance the TWH's natural lateral gait, the running walk, and ultimately create a false gait called a 'big lick'. In addition to the shoes, outrageous bits are often used on these horses. To give you some perspective, a common shank length for a curb-type bit is about 5". Anything above that is considered fairly severe by many. The longer the shank, the greater the leverage on the horse's lower jaw and the more severe it is. It is common for TWH bits to be as long as 12", and often have a thin, twisted wire or a chain for a mouth-piece. When I was little I read about these 'little' tortures and had nightmares. I had hoped as we evolved, these abuses would come under fire and positive change would occur. Instead, now there are new chemical irritants to use and bits have become even more severe. To add insult to injury, bad riding is rampant in the TWH performance ring. Maybe that sounds minor, but having somebody sitting on your kidneys and using long spurs on your flanks while jerking on the reins can't be any kind of picnic.

I read a blog entry yesterday on Fugly Horse of the Day, and I can't believe, in this day in age, that we are STILL dealing with this type of willful and accepted abuse. I shouldn't be surprised, really. I've been in and around the horse industry long enough to know that money and ego are the ruling forces so much of the time. I'm not going to reinvent the wheel be regurgitating everything that Fugly wrote, but I DO encourage you to read the entry and pass it around, even if you are not a horse person. A word of warning, there is a pretty graphic video posted within the blog. Even after everything I've seen, it still made me sick.

After I read the article, I poked around on the internet to see for myself the reaction of folks to this blatant abuse, and was rather horrified by what I found. I watched videos of the "Celebration"; there are lots of them if you look, unfortunately. Here is one that briefly shows the 2009 Champion: 2009 Walking Horse Celebration. (I think it's interesting that the rider is the brother of the guy arrested for abuse mentioned in the "Fugly" blog, and the rider in the photo above IS the abuser). To me, the "big lick" is unattractive. Maybe it's because I know that it's produced by pain. I'm much more impressed by the TWH's smooth and rhythmic (and natural) running walk. One of the videos I watched really got to me. It was so horrifying it was actually macabre: The crowd waited while the horses filed in. One by one, the wild-eyed, sweating horses broke into the 'big lick', and the crowd went wild. I tried to imagine it from the horses' point of view: You move the best you can with your feet hurting and your very bodily structures compromised, every joint aching from being forced into unnatural angles. A predatory gargoyle sits on your kidneys and hunches over your shoulders, simultaneously spurring you in the flanks and hanging on the reins, creating more pain. Your aching body is urged forward faster, the pain in your feet causing you to hold them higher and for just a bit longer. The crowd cheers the spectacle that your pain has created...

How is this still legal?

Editorial Rant

  Oh, how I hate to feel 'ranty'. I MUCH prefer to turn up the volume on the ridiculous side of life, and just jam out to that station, but sometimes a good rant is good for the soul. And of course, it's more of the same: Some idiot had their untrained dog running loose at the park yesterday, and of course, aforementioned canine had to make a beeline straight into Murphy's face. This is where I thank God once again for the inherent kindness and stability present in the heart of The Big Pinscher. It was ultimately a non-event (unless you were Murphy) but it PISSED ME OFF. I apologize for being so blunt, but the owner's response did nothing to appease me, either.  So, I wrote to the local paper. I don't know if what I wrote will ever see print, but at least I did something.

Here is what I wrote:

I am a South Burlington resident and have been for about four years. I have been a Vermont resident for most of my life. I love the dog-friendly environment of my home state, but am quite dismayed at the number of people who fail to comply with the leash laws in our local parks. I am a disabled person who works with a service dog and I have had a very difficult time finding a safe place to exercise my dog where he isn't interfered with in some way by off-leash pets. I don't have a yard, so I depend on public spaces. My dog was viciously attacked by an off-leash pet (while the owner shouted "he's friendly" from about twenty feet away) a couple of years ago on a Burlington bike path and it really impacted both his life and mine for about two years (and continues to do so to a lesser degree). Since then, every time somebody's loose dog runs up to him and gets in his face, it traumatizes him yet again (I liken it to someone suffering an assault, and then being approached in the same manner repeatedly and without warning). I do my part by avoiding dog parks and public parks that don't employ a leash ordinance, but even then I can't avoid the onslaught and I'm beyond tired of it. And it isn't just me who's tired of it. There are lots of us, and in fact I believe we are the majority of the dog-owning public.

I was at a local park just yesterday and had somebody's off-leash pet get in my dog's face. Again. When I pointed out that there was a leash law, the owner replied "Yeah, I know but nobody pays attention to it". How is that okay? What about folks with dogs who are fearful or aggressive? ALL dogs need to be walked, not just friendly ones. Where are they supposed to go? What about people who might otherwise enjoy the park, but are afraid of dogs? What about people like me who respect the laws and need others to do what they are supposed to do so that we ALL can enjoy public spaces? How is this fair? Unfortunately, it seems that people subscribe to the misconception that if their dog is friendly (or more accurately, if they think their dog is friendly), it's perfectly okay to let them run around loose. It's not. It's not safe for the dog, it's not fair to other people and the idea that "it's okay to break the law because everybody else does it" is not okay. Those of us who respect the laws are tired of paying the consequences for those of you who can't be bothered. For more information about how irresponsible dog ownership effects others, please go to: http://notesfromadogwalker.com/all-things-dinos/

K. Smart

What do YOU think?

Internal Buttress

photo: thereifixedit.com

       I love that I have a sense of humor most of the time. My friends are some of the most awesomely-witty folks that I know too:-) I like to think of humor as a flexible, internal buttress. It can simultaneously shore us up and stretch to accommodate direct hits and curve-balls, effectively lessening the blow. I love that life is so full of opportunities to practice and hone our mad humor-skills. Most of the time.

   So I'm going to try to look at my current situation from an objective and humorous place. It's like cheating if I only laugh when things are easy right? It's in the ability to find humor in potentially personally tragic situations where we really cut our teeth and develop. For starters, I would like to point out that what I consider 'personally tragic' may be construed  as nothing more than 'white girl problems' by some. For that, I should be grateful. Even so, I am seriously freaking out.

   I drive an eighteen year old car. That alone is pretty funny. It's like a game I play with myself: How many miles can this car go? (so far it's about 234,000. Not bad, eh?) I've had it most of it's eighteen years, and have come to take it somewhat for granted. It's a Toyota Corolla wagon. My daughter thinks it's the dorkiest car on the road, what with it not just being old and a wagon, but also beige. I say it's 'champagne', but whatever. The car's name is "Goldie" (all good cars should have a name) and she has been reliable to an almost unheard of degree. The last couple of years or so though, I've been getting this pinched feeling in my gut right around inspection time. It is like some cruel twist of fate:  Vermont is not just really tough on cars, but also requires them to pass a yearly inspection. NOT nice. Failure to sport the appropriate sticker number and color in your windshield means hefty fines. Here is where I get the most tangled up in the process: I lack resources, so my car needs repairs that I can't afford. Ergo, it doesn't pass inspection, then I get a fine rendering me even LESS able to fix the car, etc. Round and round she goes. Oh, and I do need a car. In this whole equation, it is probably the only certainty.

   Last year the process finally came to a good (and legal!) end after a circus-like series of events involving friends, quite a bit more money than I could afford to spend, a few random and oddly-specific auto parts, and a can of spray-foam insulation. I will spare you the gory details, but suffice it to say it was touch-and-go-there for awhile, and it wasn't pretty. I mean literally, not pretty. But LEGAL. If I could put all kinds of smileys, moons, rainbows and stars around that elusive and ephemeral word, I would do it. For an old car in Vermont, LEGAL is where it's at; the Holy Grail, if you will. 'LEGAL' means at least another year of service.

   This year I sent Goldie off for inspection, confident that all of the craziness of last year would carry her through at least a year or two. I even wrote it on my calendar like it was no big deal; nothing more than another easy appointment: INSPECT CAR. Two solid, imperative words implying that it would be a straight-forward exercise in doing my civic duty as a car-owning person in Vermont. *Sigh*.

   Why do I always think 'easy' is possible? Is it some strange need to cling to a Universal idea of fairness? Or (if I want to get even more melodramatic) is it an unwavering faith in the notion that we wont be faced with problems beyond our coping abilities? I've notice, being a person of limited resources, how frequently problems seem to hit me in the wallet. There are worse places to be hit (and I know this because I've been hit there a few times too), but can't the Universe see clearly from it's omniscient perch that there is just a smoking scorch-mark where my wallet used to be? You can't get blood from stone, and you can't get money from a smoking scorch mark. It's like some immutable law, or something.

   Anyway, Goldie is very close to looking like the car pictured above, I think. I don't know the details, I just know that the description of her tragic state involved words like 'unibody frame' and 'strut assembly', and something about it being really dangerous if I hit a pot hole. Unfortunately, pot holes are another 'thing' that's popular in Vermont. Yeah, baby; I hit the trifecta! Needless to say, unless I come up with some cash, I'm in deep doodoo. And I have like, two days.

I guess sometimes life's just funny like that:-)

Sidewalk Superhero

   Sometimes I wish I was a superhero. Not the real kind of course, with all the overwhelming sense of responsibility and angst, but the intermittent kind that's oddly specific and fits in easily with my schedule. I could come over all stealthy and incognito, and put a hurt on the rude, the inconsiderate, and maybe those with consistently bad grammar. You know what I mean; I could figuratively 'take a chunk' out of those who irritate me. Or hey, those who irritate you! I suppose that's really what the whole 'superhero' gig is about; assisting the underdog. I don't generally consider myself an underdog, but every once in awhile something happens that leaves me feeling...ineffective. Yesterday was one of those days when I felt simultaneously sorry and grateful that I don't walk with a baseball bat. Sorry, because I had no defense. Grateful because I would have used it and bought myself a world of problems. But if I was a superhero....

   Maybe if I was a superhero I could have legally and effectively wielded my 'Shillelagh of Doom' and it would have just been like, part of my superhero provisions. Totally acceptable. Let me explain: Yesterday I was walking my dog at my usual time down my usual sidewalk. Suddenly, I felt something hit the back of my leg and my right butt-cheek, and just like that I found myself down on the ground wondering what the hell happened. Poor Murphy, unaccustomed to seeing me on the ground, just jumped around and looked at me. I could almost hear him thinking anxiously "...but I never learned about what to do when this happens..." I looked up and saw the a**hole who just hit me with his bike continuing on down the sidewalk like he was the only one who mattered or existed. Emphasis here on sideWALK. I live in a very bike-friendly community, so a bike-lane was provided about ten feet to my left. Not only provided, but clearly marked with big pictures of bicycles and signs with arrows. You would have to be blind or very, very stupid to miss the bike lanes. Perhaps folks in either of those categories should avoid cycling, anyway. I suspect they do. So this means that A**hole-on-a-bike is just a jerk, and therefor has no excuse. Who better to suffer the wrath of my Shillelagh of Doom? I'm going to pause a moment here to fantasize about it...

   I could have said something clever, I suppose. Maybe I could have even played THE card. I could have said something like "Hey, a**hole, way to go! You just ran down a disabled woman and her service dog!" Or anything really. I think all I managed was "Hey!" and I can't even take credit for it. It was kind of surprised out of me. I've learned (sadly enough) that I don't do my bestest, most cleverest thinking just after being knocked off my feet. I shouldn't know that perhaps, but there it is. Even so, I would think that anyone with half a brain or who isn't a psychopath should have felt something about running down a pedestrian. Not this most special of cyclists. He just went on his way unencumbered and unconcerned by such minor things as other people. The saddest part? This is the second time I've been knocked over by a cyclist coming silently up behind me. On the sideWALK.

   And this is where the superhero fantasy comes into play. What if there was a real and immediate consequence for this behavior? And I don't just mean the crappy behavior affecting me; I have no doubt that the guys that ran me down have done it before. I don't want to wait for Karma to fix it, I want to BE Karma. Enter: Karma Girl (insert dramatic, musical fanfare here). The scariest part wouldn't be the masked, Weeble-shaped woman in brightly-colored Spandex (perhaps something in a lovely green? It would go so well with my coloring...) coming out of nowhere either, it would be the gleeful giggle just before the mighty thunk that finds the unwitting a**hole on the same ground he has knocked other people into. And not just once. EVERY time, there Karma Girl would be to dole out justice with her world-famous Shillelagh of Doom. She will be the superhero of the sidewalk, protecting pedestrians everywhere from rude cyclists and traffic that won't stop at the crosswalks (okay, that last could be tricky but I'll work it out). Then she slinks off mysteriously, back into the obscurity of her 'real' life as an overweight, middle-aged woman who spends most of her time at her keyboard. Ah...the satisfaction it would bring!

The Plight of Snoopy

   I was recently pulled into a drama (well, not really, just emotionally. Same thing, right?) by my Mom. She sent me an article about a little Pit named Snoopy who had recently found himself in heaps of trouble. His story takes place in Volusia County, Florida, which personalizes it a bit more for me. I consider Volusia County my 'other home'. I spend time there, with my dog, every chance I get. I'm not terribly well-read in terms of dog-laws and regulations, but I'm quickly learning that it would behoove me to be a little more aware. Murphy is a service dog which means things are somewhat different for him, but he IS a dog and he IS a Doberman; I'm well-aware of the ill-informed prejudices that still exist. It's my understanding that in some places, Dobermans are banned. Murphy is protected under federal law here, but the fact that these prejudices exist mean that the laws are often beyond unfair to certain breeds of dog, even where outright bans DON'T exist.

    And that brings us back to Snoopy, a dog who was just out for a walk (on a leash) with his owner. They were doing everything right (except Snoopy wasn't muzzled...we'll get to that). Snoopy and his person were out for a walk when a smaller dog broke free of his owner and attacked Snoopy. Snoopy defended himself, and was subsequently impounded for a "second biting offense". When I first read this, I was appalled by how over-the-top ridiculous this situation was. I mean, really; what dog wouldn't defend themselves in this situation? How, by any definition, can this be considered a "biting offense"?

   As I read on, I learned that Snoopy had a prior incident of attacking another dog. Because of this he was labeled 'dangerous' and was required to wear a muzzle when out in public. I thought to myself that maybe this wasn't as cut-and-dried ridiculous as it initially appeared. If Snoopy was dog-aggressive and was supposed to be wearing a muzzle, why wasn't he? Even so, this second incident, in my opinion (and in the opinion of much of the dog-owning public) still was not anything close to resembling an 'incident'.

   I dug a little deeper and learned that Snoopy's first 'biting incident' was nothing more than getting into a spat with his housemate (also a pit) in his own back yard. It happened once and never before or since. Huh?! I am DEEPLY concerned that Volusia county considers this worthy of a 'dangerous dog' label and calls it a 'biting incident'. It is the equivalent of arresting a child and convicting him on assault charges for slugging his brother. As most of us who have had multi-dog households will tell you, sometimes fights happen, the breed of dog is irrelevant. So, add the second incident to the first, and it seems to me that we have a dog that's been nothing but railroaded. NONE of what I've learned about Snoopy's behavior is at all worthy of a 'dangerous dog' label, so what gives? How did this happen? Is this the kind of thing that's happening in other places?

   I can't get involved with the dog-laws in Florida because I'm not a resident, but I am about 90% positive this sort of situation would never fly in Vermont. I am also wondering (as I'm sure others are) if the dog that attacked Snoopy was given a 'dangerous dog' label? It is my understanding that it has not. If you've heard otherwise, please let me know. That dog's behavior actually IS dangerous, so I would really like to know the answer to that one. As much as I would hate to see any dog being unfairly treated, I think there should be some serious consequences for the owner of a loose dog that has the opportunity to attack another dog , irregardless of size or breed (or perceived breed). I understand this owner WAS fined.

   Fortunately for Snoopy, he has a lot of people fighting for him. But it is my hope that BOTH of the incidents on his record disappear because they are both erroneous. It would also be great if people who actually knew something about dogs were the ones making the laws for them. Maybe then, things like this wouldn't happen and breed specific legislation and breed-bans would be a thing of the past so that laws that REALLY offer protection to the public could be put into place. Ah...better days....

If you are interested in Snoopy's story, you can learn more here: Effort underway to save "Snoopy"

Here There be Monsters...

   I've always been fascinated by 'monsters'. I don't care for the human kind; I don't want to spend too much time contemplating the psychological and moral failings that create such a beast. But I love legends and tales about such creatures as Bigfoot, the Wendigo, the Manitou, Champ...you get the idea. I also find myself being quite interested in stories of the supernatural. I do enjoy watching 'crime' shows on TV, but I usually find myself busily doing something else while the actual crime is occurring, and only become engaged when the solving of the crime begins. I love how the pieces fit together to solve the mystery. I love trying to put it together for myself, even though it is within the artificial world created by television. Maybe I love monsters because of the mystery they represent.

    I guess I like them too, because I can believe in them...or not. I have to admit, though, it's much more fun to believe that they exist. There is something exciting about the idea that there are things around us that we are unaware of or could never understand. Actually, I think it is MORE likely that we are unaware of much of what exists, and that our perception of reality is exceptionally limited. I think it is sheer hubris that allows us to believe we have an accurate bead on things.

   I like the mystery in the world. I like knowing that there is much yet to discover, that there are many more interesting and surprising developments yet to come. It's just cool. So as much as I like to keep a positive outlook in my 'real world', to fill it with bright sun and warmth, I love to explore the darkness and write about mysterious and spooky things. I like to create worlds in which these things actually DO exist, where they do go bump in the night, and where we get a glimpse into the mindset and reality of such creatures. In a world where the monsters actually ARE monsters, people can be human. The best side of human nature can be highlighted as all pretense is stripped away in favor of survival against a terrifying beast.

   I'm not saying that there won't be a character or two that bears a striking resemblance to someone who is a real-life thorn in my side. And I'm not saying that those characters will not meet an untimely end. I'm just saying that it's more likely to result from an encounter with the long and sharply-curved claw of an unknown creature than a psycho with a knife;-)

   In any case, I prefer to see monsters on the OUTSIDE of people...unless...