Wednesday, May 28, 2008

You Think I Need a Brother?

Well it’s official. I am no longer the sole king of my domain. Nope. No more. It seems that Dads have decided that a permanent home for our "foster" dog is what is best. Goodbye to the chewy treat section that was once all mine. Goodbye to jumping into that king size bed without being pummeled by 50 pounds of hound dog. Goodbye to hiding out under the backyard deck by myself. And, goodbye to the walks around the hood that were once very short on orders and corrections.

Our lovely home now welcomes Foster. That's right, Foster. Dad tells me he's named after his maternal grandfather. I like to think it's because he was a foster dog so long, it just took. I can certainly see him being shifted from home to home.

OK OK. So I was once that dog in front of the Petsmart, needing a home just like my new brother. Certainly I saw myself as cuter, more loveable, well behaved and memorable (yes, Dad left after our first meeting and then five miles down the road said "I want that pup!!" and raced back to adopt me). But I would be lying if I told you I didn't have a soft spot in my heart for this big lug. Sure, he plays rougher than most dogs(already kicked out of the dog park once) and has on more than one occasion brought blood to my pretty little face (I took out his ankle during the last bout and he didn’t walk right for a day!). And sure, when he jumps in excitement when Dads come home his head almost hits the ceiling. And yes, he tends to run my precious little self over when needing to get outside for a quick run to god knows where.

But he's now my brother and I love him. Come to think of it, he's not near as bad as some humans. Lord knows I've witnessed my Dads' phone conversations and the drama from some of their siblings and families make Foster look tame. But this new sibling has allowed me to reflect upon what is most important in my life. A good family, Dads that love and take care of me, places to run and play, food and water that ALL dogs deserve and most important -- having more intellect in the tiny spot on my ear than Foster has in his entire head.

So as I do each posting, I must speak for those four-legged friends who cannot speak. Give the Foster’s of the world a good home. Overlook their sloppy leg hiking, the water that drips from their mouths for what seems to be hours after quenching their thirst, the paw prints that will overtake every window in your house and the escapes from the yard that last hours. Overlook all of this and give them a home. And please please, support the ASPCA and their fight to keep the Arlie Rufus' and Foster’s free from abuse and cruelty.

Welcome Home Foster!!

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

A Bigot, A Hate Monger or Just a Sad Man

As I savored a yummy chew treat last night, I saw on TV a story I can only describe as disturbing about a strange man in my home state who believes portraying an African American as a monkey is his duty to country. This man -- and I use that term loosely -- is named Mike Norman. He owns a bar in Marietta, Georgia and is selling t-shirts with a picture of the character Curious George with a banana and the words "Obama in '08" under the shirt. He calls the t-shirts a marketing tool and that Mr. Obama had a likeness to the character.

Well, as Dad ranted about the story and the "ignorance" and "bigotry" it showed embedded in our state, I began to think on a positive of the situation. You see, I'm a "glass is half full" rescue pup. Hell, I was days away from gas so I always look at how things can be better. Unlike Mr. Norman, I do not fear a man's color or the way he talks or looks (have you seen Mr. Norman and some of his defenders -- now that's some scary stuff). No, I think "how can we use Mr. Norman’s ‘sadness’ as a positive.” So I thought "the best way to solve this problem of hate is to show that we are above this type of behavior. So, I implore all of those who do not think they have a voice to speak up on Mr. Norman’s actions to send a donation to Obama or Hillary. Would that not be classic! Mr. Norman and his hate-filled defenders having to watch Obama or Hillary as their leader for the next four years -- classic!

At 63 and a southerner, Mr. Norman is a white man who is part of a group who has always had all the power. Well times have changed and the differences in each of us, should and will make us a better country. Mr. Norman, however, does not seem to care about the strength in our diversity. At his age and apparent lack of intellectual “curiosity”, he is unlikely to ever change his views and is stuck in a self-made state of mistrust and ignorance. And what is even sadder is that his children and grandchildren are victims of his ignorant influence.

Yes, I suppose Dad did accurately describe Mr. Norman as a bigot and hate-monger. And other Dad referred to him as a POS (Piece of...). But I could only call him a sad man. He really believes this to be a way to talk about and label another human being. That's sad people. This liberal dog believes a prayer (yes, a liberal who prays) is best for Mr. Norman. So remember this "sad" man in your prayers. And pray he sees the error of his ways. And if we are really lucky, the GOP will ask him to follow Anne Coulter on the stage at this summer's Republican Convention. Good night all!!