Homelessness in Seattle

This just sums the situation up beautifully. Why the council here in Seattle are unable to get this right, God only knows.

 

McStarving

 

McStarving sat, with her large sign, larger belly and even larger dog

Begging for McNuggets, outside, in the autumn’s warmth

Putting on a show for all who believe in fairytales

Looking sad, then happy, then even happier, as her dog was offered a McBone

 

Impossible, sang those who rushed by, with more important chores to finish

Majority decision, though some kindly stopped and thought

Second chance in the center of a huge McFlurry of people

Leaving a dollar bill by the side of her chutzpah

 

And then, the sign changed, she was now homeless and in need of beer

A more honest approach for the remainder of this passing crowd

Finding instant success in the form of a half finished McBeer

Guzzled quickly, and then passed on to her now thirsty mutt for completion

 

Three hours later, and yet another sign, McStarving and McAddict

All of a sudden, a multi tasker, looking for a serious McJob

Given donations, by a now seriously annoyed and sullen fan base

Returning from a McBeating by relieving their McConscious on a McFake

 

 

© Alan Zoltie

TV Turnoff

Fuck me! Ad after Ad for the mid term elections, every one just as insulting as the other’s and cringeworthy melodramatic BS in its extreme. Who pays to have these Ad’s made? Why are we wasting so much cash, cash that could be put to better use, more effective use and certainly splurged on some worthwhile causes that I could reel off in a heartbeat. Where I live for example, the Superpacks spent $32mil aprox of donated money on an Ad to stop people voting for an increase in the Gas tax, an increase that would wipe out the national debt in 5 minutes. And the other side spent nearly as much advertising the fact that we should vote against this proposition. And thats just the start. We have a doctor running against a failed politician for Senate. One blames the other as a failure and the other one retaliates with their own version of gilt edged slander, only for the first one to come back with more nonsense about the second one. Get the picture? Yes, well I don’t. It’s totally ridiculous what is allowed and what is accepted in these campaigns. It’s beyond a joke that we all tolerate it in the first place. Someone should add a proposition to the ballot banning all Ad’s, banning all insulting behavior and banning everything that has become crass in US politics, BOTH parties, the Republicans and Democrats. One is just as bad as the other, if not worse. It stinks. There’s a smell of shit from the top to the bottom of the political specter here in America, a smell that just refuses to go away and indeed has become stronger as time has gone on. As I mentioned, both sides are to blame, both are just liars and cheats and both are run by goons who can only be described as muppets. What is a Paid Political Ad and why do people contribute towards them anyway? Have you ever given up one dollar to secure advertising for any of these moronic efforts that are only trying to deceive?  And how do we the public learn who is telling the ruth anyway? It’s almost impossible. America, as I have said many times, you are a truly fucked up nation. There is absolutely nothing that is United about the United States, except the money. Every State is run inefficiently and by imbeciles who only care about their own power and glory. All you have to do is look at Trump. He’s running around the country on my money and yours too, telling everyone lies and filling our TV screens with deceit when he should be back in Washington running the bloody country. They say he’s fighting for control of the Senate. They say he’s assisting all GOP candidates in their quest to be elected. They say he’s out campaigning. TOTAL CRAP. Trump is a clever juvenile who loves to see himself emblazoned on our TV screens every night for his own self delight. Fake news? Fake Trump, and fake everyone else who has anything to do or say in this cloak and dagger world we call politics. America, you are fucked. You are never coming back from this garbage and it’s only going to get worse unless you all stand up and kick these muppets to touch. DO NOT vote. Stay home. Make a statement. Don’t let these fools run your lives any longer, unless there is change, and change that’s worth while and acceptable. Turn off your TV’s, yes, they know when you’re doing that, they have ways and means to tell. Turn off your volume if you won’t turn off the pictures, do not listen to them, it’s a disgusting circus without any ways or means to entertain. It’s the mid terms, and it’s a complete bloody joke. Fire everyone and give me back my sanity. Most of us are addicted to the in’s and out’s of the way we are run by Washington. We should not be addicted, we should be disgusted and we should act and act now. It’s really time to change everything, from top to bottom. The young people growing up in today’s society and really all we have to make this change happen. Boot out the old cronies, the hangers on, the lifetime politicians and let’s have some new blood, blood that cares and can run this corrupt society we have morphed in to. Get to 50? Fuck off and don’t come back. Don’t get elected, fuck off again and don’t come back. Win and election and get into the Senate or the House, spend your term doing what you’re supposed to do and do it with diligence and honesty, THEN fuck off and don’t come back. Make a difference and then let a younger man or woman do it better. New blood, new ideas, and an evolution that is nearly perfect, and if not perfect, revolutionary.

Now it’s time for me to fuck off and wash the car before it pisses down with more political advertising that will dirty not only my mind by my whole demeanor.

#SoldOut Raising Funds and Awareness

I recall many years ago standing on the terraces at Hampden Park, Glasgow with 145,000 other rabid fans, waiting for the teams to come out of the tunnel to begin the annual Scotland v England ‘Home International’ football,(soccer), game. There would always be 140,000 Scots and about 5,000 English fans in attendance. As a Scot, born and bred, I was brought up, just like the majority of others who were standing around me, to ‘hate’ the English with a vengeance. It was just part of our parochial culture at that time, and probably still is today, although I have not lived in Scotland for 40 years and with the demise of Scottish football and an awareness that political correctness is now the order of the day, perhaps the ferocity of that hatred has mellowed. The two teams, now standing in the center of the field, would face the main stand, where all the dignitaries were seated, and the British national anthem would begin, God Save the Queen. This was before the Scots were allowed to sing their own anthem, a change in protocol that occurred some years later. The band, yes, a real brass or bagpipe band, would strike up the first chord and immediately there would be a wall of noise emanating from the Scottish support just booing as loud as possible at the UK anthem. It completely drowned out the band and any semblance they had in mind of being heard as a unit. We hated that anthem, supposedly, and we all gave it little or indeed no respect. Within seconds, our vocal distaste of everything that the British Monarchy stood for was demonstrated by this blasphemous howling and booing which seemed to last an eternity, but which in fact lasted only about 120 seconds, the length of the British national anthem being quite short. Once over, the game began and the fact that 140,000 Scottish football fanatics had remonstrated vocally against our forced inclusion under the monarchy we all loved, or at least some of us loved, was soon forgotten as the football took over and blood and guts was then spilled on the field of play rather than on the streets of Glasgow. It should also be noted that while the anthem was sung by the players on the field from the England team, all the Scottish team just stood in silence, some smiling, some not, but to a tee, not one of the Scottish team would sing along. It was an unwritten rule, followed religiously. Silent protests against supposed oppression, acceptable and respected throughout the world. No harm done, no one to cry foul. Until now!

When Colin Kaepernick knelt down for the Star Spangled Banner whilst playing for the San Francisco 49rs some two years ago, the whole world, at least the world that surrounded American Football and Donald Trump, went berserk, and for what reason? Well as far as I can tell, the National Anthem was never played at any sporting event before the end of the second world war. And even after that, there were sports events in the USA where the anthem remained just a figment of everyone’s imagination, laying silent as battle commenced on the field of play. So why, all of a sudden, after Kaepernick and some of his fellow Pro’s decided to protest, quite justifiably in silence to make what has turned out to be a very relevant point on an issue that has haunted this country for generations, has the President of the United States and the owners of some of the football teams where protests have been continual and well publicized, lost the plot by telling players they will be fired if they continue to ‘abuse their privilege’? There is not one reason on earth why anyone should be forced to alter their beliefs, especially those who feel threatened or abused and more especially inside a country that not only preaches pure democracy and a right to free speech to the whole planet, but a country that encourages its populous to be vocal in the form of protest when under threat of unjustifiable racism. Racism is rife in America. You can smell it in the streets, it’s a pollution that has become silent in its poisoning of its population. Racism cannot be tolerated, hatred of anyone, any race, any creed and any color has to be kicked out, but, unfortunately, and in the opinion of this author, it’s just being swept under an already filthy carpet, where, when the dust is uncovered, it becomes a mountain of trash that is becoming ever worse and unstoppable, fueled by a President and government that just turns a blind eye and looks the other way whilst telling us all, quite disingenuously that there is absolutely nothing wrong! Well, not much!

My guitar teacher Tony, remember him from the first article I wrote last week, inspired me to make the lapel pins you see in the image above. The players protesting and following in the footsteps of Kaepernick, have a right to do so. It’s not disrespectful, it’s poignant, it’s their human right, it’s peaceful and most importantly, it’s something they believe in. However, it seems if these protests carry on players will be fired or, and I say this with the utmost respect, the President will have to intervene personally, something not one of us would like to see happen.

With all of this in mind, I have this idea, not only to raise the awareness to a very great cause, but to raise money for charities associated with racism and the profound effect that racism still holds on our society. The #SOLDOUT will soon display the pins pictured above for sale, to make people aware that there is genuine suffering out there, whether it be in the murdering of Jews in Pittsburgh, or the simplicity of daily senseless traffic stops on innocent African Americans, it matters not. We have a right to protest, so by wearing this pin, our protests shall be seen, and by the money we raise, out protests shall be heard.

Keep reading this blog for more updates and check out our Instagram #soldout to get your pin.

If there are any athletes, well known or otherwise and or charities, who would like to be considered as spokes people for this idea, please get in touch. Colin Kaepernick, if you read this please know that I have tried in many different ways to contact you because I believe you should lead this movement, but to date, no response.

Thank you everyone.

#Sold Out

I have a music teacher, his name is Tony. Tony is black and adopted. He is 25. His mother and father are white. His real mother and father are no longer alive. He comes from Texas, lives now in California and was educated at Julliard in New York. Tony is a fine upstanding citizen, a musical genius and a pleasure to be around. I’ve known him for two years, and not once in that time had we ever discussed race, or the place it plays in US society. Not once, until last year, when all the American Football players began to kneel during the national anthem before their games began. We were sitting playing guitars, strumming away to AC/DC Back in Black, when suddenly I turned round to him and asked this very question.

“Tony, be honest with me, very honest, no BS. You’re black, you’re African-American, and you’ve seen what’s going on in this country for the past months with all the athletes kneeling during the national anthem. You’ve seen what Black Lives Matter have been saying and doing, you’ve witnessed at first hand how this country is so divided, but have you personally ever suffered any kind of racial abuse, either growing up or since you moved to CA a few years ago?”

When I asked this question I was somewhat convinced that just like everything else we read or see on TV, the bias towards sensationalism in our media far in a way outweighed the reality of life. I fully expected Tony to turn round and tell me that most of what we were looking at on TV was stage-managed to drum up support for factions in society that had nothing better to do than create issues that really didn’t assist in the harmonic bliss I seemed to live with on a daily basis. How wrong and how naive was I. This is what Tony said to me.

” Alan, I have lived 25 years, in Texas, New York and now CA. In all 3 States I lived in nice middle class suburban areas, other than in NY where Manhattan is as diverse as it comes and everyone seems very wealthy. Let me tell you how life really is if you’re black. Let me also tell you how I have seen it, living with white parents, white students and now in a predominantly white middle class area here in Orange County. Let me also tell you that what I am about to say is not at all exaggerated. It’s the truth. After you listen, you can then decide who is embellishing the truth.” He looked at me straight in the eye and then he began.

“I drive a great car, a Ford Mustang Shelby. I drive it everywhere because there’s no public transportation down here in OC. Do you know I get stopped by the cops at least twice a week? Do you know why I get stopped? I don’t speed, I don’t do anything illegal, I just get pulled over. It doesn’t matter if I am here in Laguna, or in long Beach or up in LA. I get stopped, and every time it’s the same nonsense.

” You’re joking?” I said, not quite believing what he was saying.

He continued.

” I am a music teacher, I drive to schools, I drive to people’s homes, white people, Chinese people, brown people, black people. It doesn’t matter. If I pass a cop, especially where schools are located, they will come from nowhere, lights flashing, pull me over and ask me why I am where I am. It happens so regularly now that I know the drill off pat. I stop, put my hands where they can be seen, wait for the cops to come to my window and I stay silent until they ask me the very same question every single time.”

“What question Tony?” I asked.

“What are you doing here son?”

“Son??” I laughed

“Yes. SON!. No respect. As soon as I tell them I am a music teacher with clients in the neighborhood, as soon as they see my guitar, my books and my other instruments, they very quickly and impolitely step away and wave me off as if I’m a piece of dirt they’d just happened to get stuck on the side of their highly polished shoes, and without apology, send me on my way”

Well Tony’s story blew me away. It got me thinking that I really knew nothing about the racism that people were going through on a daily basis and that being closeted, very comfortably, in a predominantly white are with predominantly white friends and a very white attitude, was so far from reality, that I had to take action. I had to find a vehicle to show my support for the black community and all the black friends I had. It was time to do something to raise awareness, time to react and time to make a statement that will never be forgotten.

At the top of this page you’ll find a lapel pin design. In my next post, later this week, I will send out more information on a campaign I am going to run in conjunction with some major athletes in the USA to raise awareness for a cause that most of you know is already rife in our society. A cause that millions of people suffer from each and every day in a country where everyone is supposedly equal but as I have come to find out, where no one actually is.

#SOLDOUT

Rachel- A Fictional Ruse

When Rachel walked in through the door of her apartment in St John’s Wood, London, she never expected to see the envelope and her spare set of keys lying on that antique table, the one which she’d been given by her mother as a gift all those years ago. ‘That’s strange?’ she thought, and then it just hit her, like a flying mallet thrown into a bone china store! Slap bang in the middle of her normally calm and composed face. “Keith!!!” she screamed, “Keeiiithhhhh!!!!” Falling down on both knees, tears streaming from her white freckled face, she knew, and she didn’t need to or want to open that letter which lay on that table in front of her. Her worst nightmare had already come true. She was alone, and she knew it was going to hurt.

It was dark, which was to be expected, as Trevor rolled up on his mountain bike and decided this was a place that was as good as any other he’d found. Removing his helmet, his legs straddling either side of the crossbar on his $3000 Bianchi and his brand new Diadora’s half caked in mud,  it was time. He’d decided a long time ago that if things materialized the way he believed they would then this place, and his second choice, which lay about 25 miles in the opposite direction, would be perfect hide outs until things blew over, or, if they didn’t then his third and final option would be to utilize the very thing he’d dreaded and stayed very far away from. His family!

Armando kept very quiet, his balance, perfect, as he ascended this very narrow and daunting stairwell which would take him from the first floor, all the way up to the top floor, some 5 stories above where he found himself standing. His heart was pounding, his breath, short, and very precise, his eyes scanning back and forth as he decided carefully if each step would be safe or if it would be too much of a risk, thus halting him in his tracks and giving him no option but to use plan B, a plan he’d hoped to avoid at all costs. It was nearly midnight and everyone in the building was asleep. Everyone except for Muriel. Armando was determined, he was cautious, he was truly frightened, but in his attempt to make all of this work, he was sure this was his only choice.

Jillian made sure that she’d cleaned up her mess before eating what looked like the best meal she’d ever cooked. Dishes, pots and pans were everywhere, but the smell of deliciously fresh lamb, hot out of the oven, was sending hunger pains to the nether regions of a diet she’d decided to pass in favor of a return to normality. It wasn’t that she was over weight, well not by more than a few pounds, she just felt she’d become ‘soft’ and needed a change. She missed her athletic body, the one she’d been proud of throughout her high school years, but now, at the age of 28, she felt that it was time to reclaim it, to take command, stop eating crap and try harder to look good for the man she’d just met, Keith, with who she hoped good things were about to happen. She cleaned up, sat down, opened a bottle of red wine she’d purchased from Tesco on her way home from work, picked up her fork and was about to take the first bite from a deliciously tempting piece of sweet potato, when suddenly her cell phone buzzed. The text message, which appeared bold and bright in the center of its screen read simply, SAVE ME.

Lewis Curdon had been a police constable in the Metropolitan constabulary of Greater London, for no more than 3 years. He loved being a ‘bobby’, wearing that uniform, carrying a ‘badge’ of authority that he believed set him apart from the rest of the population of what was, the largest city in the UK, and probably the most interesting. Lewis felt he’d been born to be a ‘copper’,  and with three plus years under his belt, he also felt that this was the right time to make a move and start his journey towards his dream of becoming a sergeant, then into CID, and then to who knew where? He wanted to reach the very top of his profession, or at least as high as he could get, and knowing that politics wasn’t something he was particularly good at he believed that his journey into officialdom might be limited unless he could learn to play all those internal ‘games’ required for advancement inside the “Met’. Lewis had always been a realist, knowing exactly where his own strengths and weakness’ lay, but he was ambitious none the less, and no one, not even his brother, with whom he’d rarely seen eye to eye, could understand the burning desire that he had to be successful. Trevor had been the polar opposite of Lewis, and growing up in Epsom, a wealthy suburb of London, Trevor had always believed he was  ‘entitled’ and really made no effort to make a life for himself, hoping, often praying, though never to God, that the money his parents had accumulated, would eventually ‘fall’ into his lap and leave him secure for the rest of his days on earth without having to do one iota of work or indeed make any effort whatsoever to join the ‘real’ world. Lewis had despised Trevor’s attitude since he was old enough to understand that without hard work, nothing ever came easy, and doing everything possible to distance himself from his brother as they marched through school together, and then on to university, where, sadly, Trevor had become reliant on drugs, dropping out in his second year and then using their parents as a ‘trust’ fund, while he roamed the planet in search of his nirvana. Lewis knew how much his parents had sacrificed in favor of Trevor’s happiness, a state of mind that Trevor had never  really come to terms with or indeed fully understood, never the less, Lewis knew in his heart that if something every happened to his mother and father, he would be the one left carrying the burden that Trevor had now become.

Rachel had spent the last 2 hours trying to pick herself up from her apartment floor. Each time she’d tried, she had looked at that letter, her spare keys and their meaning, as yet unconfirmed although ‘pretty clear’ in her mind, and then slumped back onto the cold wooden floor where she now lay crying continuously into the evening. She knew in her heart she loved Keith, and she also knew deep down that he was gone, although confirmation was too far from her thoughts right now. She just wanted to cry, feel sorry for herself and contemplate her immediate future, which would be alone. It wasn’t that she was unattractive, far from it, it was just that Keith had made her feel so alive, so special and so loved, for the few years she’d known him. It had started to become clear to Rachel about 5 months ago that things weren’t what they had been. Keith had become ‘lazy’ in bed, making love to her only once a week, and not the 6 or 7 times she’s become accustomed to in the previous years of their relationship. At first Rachel put it down to the fact that he’s found a new job, and one that relied on him working 15 hors a day, 6 days a week, but as time passed, she began to search, looking for the evidence that would prove her intuition correct, and eventually she came across the one and only thing that made sense. Wrapped up inside one of the arms of a folded sweater in his bottom drawer, a phone number, and a picture.  Shocked would never properly describe her feelings the day she’s stumbled across this ‘evidence’ and at first she was surprised she’d taken so long to put two and two together, but now it all made good sense. She’d confronted Keith, almost immediately, only to be put down in a ball of rage by this man, who she thought she knew and loved. He’d gone ballistic after finding out she’d been going through his personal belongings, standing as the accused, and denying that this had anything to do with his relationship and they way he felt about Rachel. She’d pressed him and pushed him into submission, and eventually he collapsed into admission, telling her that yes, this was someone with whom he’d been having an affair, but that it was over and she was now completely out of his life. “Then why the picture and phone number?” Rachel  had asked, and she’d never received a satisfactory response in return. She couldn’t forgive, or forget, and although they’d tried to get their relationship back on track, in truth, it was never going to work, and so here she found herself, alone with her keys and that letter, lying on her floor.

Trevor stopped, checked for a moment that he’d locked everything away, then proceeded to walk towards that big red front door. His plans had changed, but then they always did. Ever since he was a child, growing up in the west of England, he’d never been one for routine, always changing his mind at the last possible moment and doing things that others only dreamed of doing. He was an adventurous soul, perhaps too adventurous, as some of his scars and broken bones could attest to, but he was still athletic, still happy and still very much a ladies man. His handsome rugged good looks had not been altered even though his face had received the benefit of two skin grafts and a 2 inch bolt to repair a broken jaw. Trevor balked every time he recalled the reason for that pin, but he was grateful to have the chance to live life his way, and in his opinion, the only way, anyone should live. He was now in front of the door, and for the first time since he’s left his home earlier in the evening, his heartbeat was slightly elevated. He took a deep breath and raised his had ready to knock and announce his arrival.

Armando was nearly there. Every step he’d taken had been an effort. He had to remain quiet, and he didn’t see any other option but this pattern of continued stealth, taught to him during his days serving with the British Army in Afghanistan. His shoes were off, and his socks remained his only barrier between contacting large splinters from this old wooden floor, and the safety of silence. His 25 yard jaunt had been painfully slow, but now he found himself exactly in the position he’d wanted to be. He was slowly but surely becoming aroused, and he hoped that Muriel, who waiting patiently behind her closed-door, was feeling the same way. Before allowing his mind to wander to what might happen later on that night, he quickly returned to a state of concentration, ready and ever so willing to finally enter Muriel’s room. He placed his hand on the doorknob and gently turned it clockwise.

Lewis was having a quiet night so far. Nothing too much was going on in the small part of the world he patrolled. Yes, there were the usual petty thieves who frequented his beat, those he called ‘chancers’ but tonight, none of them seemed to be wanting to take any chance at all and his streets, the one’s he’d decided he now owned. They had remained quiet and peaceful, something that Lewis would always remain, eternally grateful. Although he loved to catch the one’s who required locking up, nothing made him happier than peace and quiet and no crime. This scenario was the exception rather than the rule, but he appreciated it all the same and it gave him a chance to figure out exactly what it was he was going to do with the rest of his life. He realized that making his own way in life was paramount to his own personal success and that he would never rely on the wealth his parents had accumulated to make himself comfortable. He, unlike Trevor, was his own man, his independence and his drive, the two most important attributes he possessed. On nights like this it just reinforced his goals and his aims and his determination not to be like him. Trevor, his brother, sometimes his friend, but more often than not, a real pain in the backside. A sudden break in the calm of his evening startled Lewis. It was his radio and a very irate dispatcher suggesting he head to a domestic dispute and possible break in, about 2/3 of a mile from where he now stood. Lewis confirmed his intention with the dispatcher and made off in a hurry towards this possible disturbance. All thoughts of Trevor evaporated as Lewis began to run towards his date with the next criminal he would ultimately place behind bars.

 

More to follow, PERHAPS!

I’m Back…. Well, maybe!

Seems appropriate to write a wee bit about Kim and trump, and yet it seems more appropriate just to ignore it. At the end of the day, it’s all a huge fix, a camera play, a photo opportunity and a desire for both leaders just to be on TV and gather more twitter followers, or whatever they do in North Korea. Probably just twits not tweets! And then there’s De Niro. What a toss-pot he has become. “Fuck Trump”, he shouted at the Tony awards last night. Well fuck him too. Free speech is great, but De Niro just took that one step too far, in my humble opinion. Trump isn’t the best thing that’s ever happened to this country, but then again, neither is De Niro, especially if you watched his last movie. Both are head strong, both are just plain juvenile. Get off our airwaves, get off your pedestal, and stick your opinions right up your backside. Trump was voted in, De Niro is just abusing his popularity. At the end of the day, we are back to us and them, the whole premise of why we are currently such a split country and one that is certainly in turmoil. Everyone wants rights, everyone is fighting for rights, but the only thing that should be right is to stop al the bullshit and try to get along with one another, internally and globally. Trump just pissed off the G7, the G7 pissed off Russia, Russia pisses off the whole planet on a daily basis and yet, here we are, stuck on earth with no place to go, not even the hope of going elsewhere, as yet, and we cannot seem to understand that this is it, this is where we all live, where we have to get our food, our water and our fuel, and this is where it’s going to remain for the foreseeable future. get along people, just get along. Live and let live, otherwise we will all perish, and that my friends, might be the best thing that could happen. What a mess we are all making, what a state this planet is in, and yet, we fight, we kill, we plunder. It never ends.

It isn’t all doom and gloom though, is it? That’s why I am back, well maybe back. Not sure how much more crap I can take from our society. I want to run for President, no one will let me. Born in the wrong country they say. My agenda would be sweeping, my policies only popular, and my behavior tolerant and appreciated. I have an idea, one that can raise awareness to our whole cause, the cause of survival. That idea is simple, it’s plainly doable and it’s a must before our current leaders blow us all to pieces or pollute us into a state of asphyxia. That idea? get rid of every elected leader on the planet, all of them, in all walks of government. Bring in young people, people with values, people who give a hoot on what’s going on. Not your rabid lefties, not your over zealous right wing wankers, bring in normal people, people that will make a difference and that do not care about power, money or belongings. Are there any such people out there? Candidates that will change all that is bad on a planet that is dying, and dying rapidly. It’s not too late, let’s agree, more of the same will not work. We need a complete change and we need it quickly. I sincerely hope that Trump makes a difference this week and I hope too that the people of N Korea get some food on their already empty plates. But my biggest hope is that we, the people, can rise up in a united manner and make changes that count for every human being, and not count changes that only assist one or two of us.

 

Cruel Way To Treat Any Animal

I’m taking my dog to the groomers today. She’ll be there about three hours. She hates it, but then again, she hates doing anything where I am not around her. She’s not timid, more set in her ways and as her bestie, she wants to do what I do, when I do it. When I pack a suitcase to leave for a regular trip, she sulks, but when I arrive home, whether it’s after one night or ten nights, she goes crazy with untempered excitement, and will not leave me alone for more than 15 seconds for fear that I might just go away again. She sleeps at the bottom of the bed, until I wake up every morning, where her head can be found resting on my shoulder. She’s manipulated her way to the top of the bed in complete stealth mode, arriving at dawn in the position she craves. Not sure how she manages this because sometimes I wake in the middle of the night to the sound of her snoring, so all credit to her guile and cunning and ability to move like the ninja she can sometimes become. My dog receives treats, great food and lots of petting, every day, deservedly so, and I get incredible enjoyment from her in return. We are both content.

Yesterday, driving home from town in pouring rain, I came across something of nightmare scenario, in my book at least. There, in a wet soaking field, lying still on his belly, a white dog (no idea what breed), guarding his sheep, drenched, sad, and unattended. This scene disturbed me immensely. It shocked me, and frankly made me mad. I know that I live on an island, I realize that I live amongst farmer, I respect that all people treat their animals differently and I also admit that I know nothing about tending sheep or cattle, but come on, what would possess any human being to leave a dog out in the freezing cold rain,(it was 42 degrees), without company, without love and without the constant attention all dogs crave? A working dog, I hear you say? So? Who cares, he’s a friend, a companion, a loved one, I hope. If not, then why put any animal, through this madness? I know that sheep need tending, but here, there are no foxes, no cougars and nothing else that would make a sheep disappear without trace, other than a human thief, and on this island, they are few and far between. We have a bunch of Coyote’s, but again, what would one dog do against 4 of them? No idea really, but it’s something I would like to ask that dog’s owner. I would also question why no shelter is provided for that dog, why, after it turned dark at 5PM last night, the dog was still there, lying soaked and looking forlorn. How can people be this cruel?

I came home yesterday and asked my dog if she realized how spoiled she was, and of course her answer could be found simply in the way she wagged her tail and jumped up on me as if I’d been away for days when in fact it had only been an hour. She has every right to be treated nicely, and so has the dog in that field. I will try to call someone today to see if what they are doing on that farm is classed as animal cruelty. I have my doubts, but I will try anyway. I cannot believe in this day and age that people are so backwards when it comes to animal welfare, or is it that I am just too soft?