I think my anxiety dog hates me.

Thanks to the ADA (Americans with disabilities act) Many citizens have the legal right to have a service animal present with them. We probably all remember seeing the random person with a large seeing eye dog and nowadays we know that animals serve as not only companion animals but also animals who can sniff out illness and provide other services.

What most people, especially the ignorant, don’t understand about this law is that many people who do abuse it only do so because they can. Yes, people will try to sneak a dog on a plane and supersede the rules. Maybe he doesn’t want to pay, maybe he doesn’t want his dog to travel in cargo. Depending on the airline, getting on a plane with a service animal does require some kind of medical proof. However, it is the misinterpretation of many retailers that there is some kind of registry out there that is the official place of these kinds of pets. What they don’t realize is that anyone can order an official looking pack of goodies and look like Momma is crazy enough to need her little pumpkin with her at all times.

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I recently boarded a couple of planes with my little anxiety dog. Her name is Sophie. Sophie has no training to be a companion animal. I rescued her from her owner’s will  instructions designating she be put down. Sophie, then, a pretty little white Maltese, won my heart. No one seemed interested in an older dog, so I claimed her. No other dog has given me the attention she has. I learned very quickly that she has grooming and touch anxiety. Who previous owner must have groomed her too much. She will do anything to keep from being touched and I learned that being chomped on by tiny front teeth repeatedly hurt more than child birth. At this realization I found myself fighting with the urge to drown her immediately or fake a car accident out front. After a couple of years, I purchased a muzzle but she anticipates my placement on her snuzz and she will bite anything she can before I get it on her. I had several strange marks on my leg and one really weird one on my fat stomach. Oh, yeah, Sophie got me.

Sophie has a lovely little cradle next to by bed. Since I’ve rescued so many animals, she has a special place because, now thirteen, she doesn’t move fast and I have an enormously stupid lab/ hound mix who steps on anything in his path like a modern day godzillaIMG_20160125_114613. So, nestled in her cradle amidst the faux leopard coat and the very real mink stole from an auction, she has little toys to rest her head and dream peacefully…. Peacefully until the next time she can try to bite me that is.

I have taken Sophie into stores frequently. Having invented my own carrier (patent pending) I have a great way to take her with me and try to advert trouble. But every now and then, someone will make the stupid personal judgement to bother me anyway.I should note that I also have a pit bull service dog who does provide arthritis services. She helps me stand up. I can take her to the beach wearing a vest and have almost no issues at all and Baby Girl’s pit ancestry  defies this. I have had customers approach me and tell me I can’t have my dog in a store. I have had management tell me this. I do my best to go about my business and leave people alone, but think about it, people. If you have a doctor (two in my case) who understand I need my dogs for my mental and physical health, why do I need some sorry person to tell me I don’t? And, if in the event I am clutching a little white dog and I tell you it’s for anxiety, doesn’t it make sense to leave me alone? One manager went to far as to argue with me over the laws and demanded I show her proof. Well, I didn’t and I don’t have to, but what does need to happen is a sense of decency if you don’t understand someone’s handicap. I shouldn’t have to be placed in the very stressful situation of defending my little white dog in a bag who only seeks to hurt me. When she is in a public place, I’m her best friend. It’s quite the dirty white lies she tells.

I do  have a label on one of my bags. It says. “We are nuts”. I found that the airplane ride to Buffalo may record in my passages as the easiest and least stressful. I have flown many times and never realized that i did feel badly until I had that little grinning old lady letting me pet her as long as I didn’t try to groom, or wipe away eye crust, or push back her hair.

Who is the Yapping Chihuahua?

A couple of years ago my inner voice advised me I would change my life and a friend would lead me to that change. It was supposed to make everything different. I could not for the life of me imagine how this person would be able to do that, but I listened and sought to find this great inspiration. Most people don’t get me. I have often been called the red pill in the Movie the Matrix. The reference always meant it was just too complicated and it was easier to be the blue pill and play along like everything is all right. That isn’t how this ducky rolls. I have a little chihuahua named Stuey. He was born here. It’s a long story and really it doesn’t matter why he ended up here. What matters is that inspirational friend always said I was just a yapping chihuahua barking at your heels, refusing to shut up. I then asked myself, “Why doesn’t that little dog just shut up?” He has no real strength. No one listens to the little guy, but damn, he sure is tenacious. Then I realized, from small voices may come great change. This is what I hope to achieve in the near future through products and other resources. They say if good people do nothing when there is an injustice than nothing will change. We don’t like to have ugly pointed out. We don’t want to talk about animal abuse or dog fighting rings, or just stupid people who neglect their animal. But, if the Yapping Chihuahua has anything to say about it, we will talk and we will do.IMG_0481  Rescued from OCAS / Orange County services. His owner died, he and his mates were taken to a very high kill shelter. Two rescues passed him up because he was aggressive. Well, no one read the papers and his hair was long. He was blind in one eye and everyone was scaring him. On top of that they kept saying his name wrong. They pronounced it Rado with a long A instead of in Spanish. He was name Rado (Or possibly Raro which means rare.)  We now call him Budders. As I write this he awakens from a bad dream. I give him a big kiss. He is safe.

Kill me softly

We all know about dog shelters. Animals go in and many don’t come back out. We whisper it to ourselves. We know what happens to animals “in there”.

Animal souls are different. It’s obvious something is going on in there behind those eyes, but really, it can’t be that big of a deal. I mean, if they were as important as humans, God would have made them to rule over the world not the other way around. Humans by choice through dog neglect and fighting or by ignorance by buying something you forget is alive and must be groomed, fed and loved, all commit the unpardonable animal sin.  What is that? Animals can just be euthanize if there are too many or we don’t want them.          You know what is worse than euthanasia? It’s watching the soul of a rescue animal being returned to a shelter. Can you imagine what it feels like to be brought there lost and confused in the first place? Then, someone’s eyes meet yours and you jump and wag your tail as hard as you can. Next thing you know you are looking back over the cages where you came from and you know you aren’t going back there tonight. But then the horrible happens and his girlfriend doesn’t like you or the kids pulled your tail and you bite them. What ever the reason you are back looking through those bars again. Euthanasia is kind compared to indecision and lack of commitment.

I’ve been volunteering with animals about five months. Today a little white terrier clung to me both arms wrapped around me neck. He was begging me not to put him back in the cage. I didn’t right away. I sat down and we just sat there for a while until a really sweet Indian lady took over. I don’t know if she took him home or not, but I’m sure soon this little guy, Tucker will go home soon.

There’s plenty of other souls which have spoken to me. There is Sugar who has played with toys by herself throwing them up into the air in the kennel. She drying up from a litter of puppies but she’s just a playful puppy herself. Karen isn’t too far from her. I’m not sure I’ve even seen her outside running off leash. She is brindle colored and pit mix. Of course she’s strong and a little crazy so I don’t know how much longer the kennel walls will be her main view. I’ve given her raw hide chews two days in a row because she isn’t one of the kids who get noticed. She relishes the chew chews and it gives her something to do…. until one day she can do it with a family.

The Best blogs are Ambien induced

It’s often been said that great artists have muses that inspire and carry word, paint and song to a greater place. The Muse is said to be one of the nine daughters of Zues who travel the world helping the mortal world become more poetic. Well, pharmacology has replaced the nine little trollops with Ambien. I KNOW  some folks prefer weed, but I can’t bring myself to intake that stuff and I don’t want to smoke anything and ruin and already fragile bronchial system.

Ambien has gotten me in trouble because it’s a bit of a truth serum  Ask me anything you want and my pure little heart answers it with truth. I’ve started websites, I’ve cooked very tasty ramen noodles in my haze and also have  found ambien, beer and sex to be the reason for a most memorable of nights.

There is something about a conscience mind that keeps us on paths. It is clear these paths can be shut down and turnd on again at will. The flight or fight mechanism is very important in our daily lives. I’m pretty sure that I have a working fight/flight, I just have differentiating opinions as to which brings best results. My favorite confrontation center has become Big Lots. Don’t know what it is about that place but me and the check out area there will some day end up on you tube and then on Nancy Grace trying to discuss the crime scene. The last time I had to choose fight or flight a black woman with three small children in a buggy, all with adorable beads tightly worked in their hair, had walked away to find cooking oil. She was in the process of checkout, but that ins’t the tale I”m telling. Her small child, maybe 18 months had climbed out of the buggy seat and started to stand on the top of the push bar. Having some motherly instincts, I lunged forward and blocked him. Being only blessed with some parental wisdom it was clear I had consumed the smart side of my instincts because when she returned from failing to find cooking oil, all she heard me say was “Don’t do that  you’re going to die.” Well, my little white girl humor did not set well with big mama. I chose to take the high road and apologized instead of telling her she should thank me his head wasn’t all over the packaged candy. It was obvious she would have liked to fight, but instead the three perfectly coiffed kids got her wrath. I try to make it a point not to engage a black woman. They are crazy in a good day, but you know you are in trouble if she reaches for that weave. As a white woman, I say… “RUN!”

 

Lions and Tigers and Rhinos… Oh MY!

I wanted to help animals. This simple desire turned into a rather complex task. I heard about a rescue through Facebook that looked like it might be a worthy cause. They had pet adoptions on Saturday’s at Pet Smart in Palm Coast so I introduced myself and shortly thereafter performed the task of webmaster. Wanting to use my skills to help their organization, the website gave a perfect format. The pet adoptions gave me a great way to get photos and the site allowed me to post available animals so that many could see them who didn’t necessarily walk into the Petsmart. I helped take Santa photos, I had arranged to get Publix to allow donation bins in additional stores and I felt like my goal to help animals had a great start.

But! Bring people into the mix and all of a sudden some woman who called herself an “available light” photographer makes enough noise to get a memo sent out putting me in my place as someone who was only to enter new information on the site. Mind you, the site had increased to almost a five hundred a day hit average and animals posted and featured were typically adopted within a week and a half, but as the fruits of my offerings came in, the anger of the founder grew greater.

I realized while attending a city council meeting for the rescue to get an exception to keep performing its duties that the owner, who was asking for a 50 pet exception to zoning, considered these animals allegedly up for adoption “her pets.” Because she made such a connection with them, she refused to let go of many adoptable animals. If you check the site now, you would see adoptable dogs like pure breed pomeranians and chihuahuas that aren’t adopted after months. Why? Because you get questioned about everything and very often made to feel you are good enough for her animals.

Well, I for one walked away. Her exception was granted but she’s run into a problem with an unforeseen cost and is trying to raise that $5000. She also is running low on food donations. I wonder if maybe others are becoming aware that supporting someone’s good deeds that have major addendums and exclusions so that she can feel better about herself isn’t what they want to do. I know I didn’t.