Thursday

Drive by entry....((((waves)))))

HAW-HAW-HAW

Oliver has decided to start a movement. Reggae, Ska and Pignolias for all mahn!

A Happy Ending

Pappi, now Tucker, is the newly pampered pet of Beth, a high school senior. Not all dogs end up at the right place at the right time, in fact, most of them don't....but I really needed a happy ending, and apparently so did this little guy.

I can say now, I almost just put my dogs up so he'd move on because my head and heart and pocketbook just didn't want to end up with another orphan. I'm tired and I'm jaded and I just want someone to look after ME for a change. But LOOK at this happy little guy. And I needed to be reminded that sometimes, good does come of not turning away.

I crack up in the Lord of the Rings where Pippin looks at the gazing ball thingy and the other hobbit says "YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO LOOK"....that's me.

Happy Cactus Monday

Well, this is Moon and his father SAGE (kind of a cactus name) and I saw a huge prickly pear on the way out yesterday, but didn't have time to turn around and take a picture. Then got around tons of dogs, goats and fun people, and lost track of time. Ended up in Arkansas at one point, took a right on I-40 and made it home. The parrot was listening to Bob Marley and screaming "woo yah mahn" when I drove up-so it was a happy home coming. And something I really needed.

HCM

Day Out

I'm taking Pappi to his new home in Westville Oklahoma. We'll be accompanied by Moonie-because his new home is a breeder associated with Moonies breeder-and actually his father, Sage will be there. It will be fun to see how Moonie stacks up with his kin, and he'll probably enjoy being around other border collies.

As for me, I m very much looking forward to day outside.

Woof Woof Woof

Greta is barking about something and Oliver the Parrot is fussing at her. I have a bit of a cold and Moonie got his big boy shots today. The vet (a substitute vet) pissed me off. I'm driving Pappi-the stray, to his new home tomorrow-will probably see some pretty leaves and certainly some pretty dogs (he's going to a border collie breeder I know-Paps make good agility dogs and her daughter is going off to college next year.....so hopefully it will all work out).

I'm looking at the giant snake segment Lolo mentioned....that is one old snake. Fluffy, the retic at the Ohio zoo (and formerly a resident of OKC) is, in a word, too fat. OK , two words. The snake on TV looks to be a good girth for one that size. A snake facility is an odd place-and probably nightmarish to someone who doesn't like snakes, but I always enjoy a visit to a well kept one. A snake brain isn't like a human brain, any more than a birds is, or a dogs-but there is something going on in there, somewhere. Snakes really don't have warm fuzzy thoughts, but they do have thoughts.

I was watching a taped version of "Change your Brain, Change your Life" and during the first segment the fellow was saying that the human brain had more connections than stars in the universe. I find that hard to believe that a finite form could be larger than an infinite form. I think that's just a human centric assertion-and one that can't be proven. For some reason, that statement really annoyed me. Maybe it's cause I have a cold.

HAW-HAW-HAW

Blogger refuses to upload a picture, so I am declaring the video post below my entry for Animal Wednesday because it's late and I have a headache from all the walls I've bashed into today already. Hmmmm, is throwing a HISSY FIT an animal wednesday kind of thing? If I could, I would just bray like a donkey right now-that's pretty much how I feel.....so HAW HAW HAW EEEE HAW

Moon Video Debut

Oliver Speaks a Day Early

I am not a human.  I do not have calendars and I do not think it makes any sense to wait until a thing called Animal Wednesday in order to be heard.  I protested this all morning, therefore my anal retentive human has relented and I will now speak to you.

Things are changing in this house.  The human is moving furniture, hauling out things, hauling in things.  I do approve of the shiny cage (it's a chain link fence) she erected to keep the animals nearer to the house.  I will miss the workers-I enjoyed supervising them.

I'm spending many of my days in the castle cage on the sun porch.  From this vantage point I can supervise the dogs and the human.  My CD player has been moved out there so that I can listen to my music.

I do like my sleeping cage though-it's cozy at night and the human puts a "blanket" over it and we play a "night night" game.

The human replaced my Hello Yellow Telephone with a similar but not the same device.  Why she did this, I don't know.  I would really prefer my Hello Yellow, and I miss calling the Blue Kitty, but I am adaptable and I will make do.

Now, did your world shift on it's axis at ALL because I spoke on Tuesday?  Too bad if it did, you folks need to lighten up with the schedule thing.

Crappy Phone pics of the Papillion

He's a little fresh with Lily.
But he's cute.

Cactus Monday-Prickly Pears

The prickly pears are in full purple fruit around here-but I've learned my lesson.  Picking them can be quite painful.  Sometimes the hispanic groceries carry prickly pear fruits-that's a safer bet.

Sometimes though, I'd like to run naked through the prickly pears and let the thorns peal off this skin and reveal whatever is underneath.  Snakes get cranky when they shed their skin, but it seems that human beings must bleed to shed theirs.  I wonder when we as a species lost the ability to change without pain?  It doesn't seem like a very good adaptation.

Happy Cactus Monday Cactuteers-remember to miss the thorns if you can!

Watching and Waiting

SPRAWL

Things As They Are

Seeing things as they are, and not as we want them to be, is so very tedious

It would be nice if this were all part of some larger cosmic hokey pokey

And maybe it is

But I suspect there is much more random chance than Divine Design

More Fractured than Fractals.

Zombies seem to enjoy the notion that someone else pulls the strings

I think the land mines were randomly set

For whoever comes along

I'd hate to believe 

My own personal holocaust

Was pre ordained

Things I love

Bugger

I can't be on moderation for someone else's venom.  It's clogging up the flow of my blog.  Please ignore any comments from the rainmaker, do not comment and do not visit him.  I will delete them when I can as soon as I can, but I'm not going to worry about it any longer.  The world is just full of people waiting to piss on your parade, and it only works if you let them.

If you don't feed the negativity, it usually goes elsewhere to pick a fight with someone who WILL fight with it, and thus feed it.

Just to be clear, all posts by said downer will be removed.  I am not even going to give thought to whether or not it is a valid point-I simply do not want this person hanging around.  For my part, I will not comment on any comments on any other person's blog where I may encounter this being.  In effect, it will be a self imposed "block" button until blogger comes up with one of its own.

Animal Wednesday-Oliver Speaks

Humans of the Blogosphere Rejoice
I am here among you now.  The anal retentive one who takes care of me insists I wait for the day designated as "Animal Wednesday" to share my wisdom with you.  I shall indulge her as she indulges me with pignolias and peanuts and paper tubes to shred.  

I have lived among your kind since arising from my egg, THE egg for me, AN egg for you.  You human folk seem to turn my into THE quite often, don't you?  As a creature of the flock the progression for me goes my -------->one of many and then stops.  As a creature of the mind, your flow is more like my ----------->THE ONLY......then tries to eradicate all others.  

You have an amazing range of sounds and vocalizations, but tend to move quickly from one "word" to another without pausing to contemplate the nuances of each one.  I spend the morning in meditation, considering the richness of tone and scale in a single world..."hello".

We are so alike, yet so different, and I believe we have much to learn from each other.  I hope to be given the opportunity to speak again to you.  ****************FART***************

Twilight

Watching Uncle John slowly die is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. He told me yesterday he was in the midst of a great transition, that this place is not a permanent place and he was preparing to go to a more suitable location. The ravings of a dying old man, or the absolute truth?

I realize now, and the end of this phase, that I was NOT being lazy by not writing every moment down-instead I was living it to the fullest extent, and will recall what I need when I need it. I'm glad I had that little bit of insight-it gave me some comfort.

I feel such guilt-because he did ask for help when (in my opinion) he was in his right mind and could have made a decision to go easily. The pain of feeling responsible for his suffering is unbearable at times. Logically, I know I didn't give him Parkinson's. Logically, I know I took this task on myself. Logic logic logic-it's so cold, colder than the grave. The grave seems warm and quiet, with no shaking or tremors or fear.

Death does not frighten me-this living half life I see in front of me scares the bloody hell of out me. And sometimes I wonder what good I do anyone by not looking away-why I feel compelled to witness it. I'm pretty much on auto-pilot with this one-doing what I feel moved to do, blindly feeling my way along the dark cave walls with the tips of my fingers. But at least I'm feeling the walls, not stumbling around in the dark crying for help.

Of course, that is where the spiders hang out. (I'm sorry Teri, I couldn't resist, and thinking of you shivering just then made me laugh out loud my friend).

Cactus Monday

I always think of this song every Sunday (before Cactus Monday). Enjoy.

Happy Cactus Monday Cactuteers

Back on Moderation

Sorry guys, I am going back on comment moderation because I don't want my blog used as a platform for an angry old man to vent a bunch of crap and venom.

I am annoyed because moderation messes up the comment flow-people can't comment on the comments until I post them. But there is no way I'm going to filter my life or what's going on it it, around somebody else's approval, especially someone who seems to universally disapprove of everyone and everything.

I do enjoy being challenged and I like a lively debate. I feel sorry for people who have reached a point in life where saying "no" to someone is the only power they feel they have, but I do not have the patience to indulge such people.

Go away. Do not come back, or if you do, do not comment. I am not interested in what you have to say. Split. Vamoose. Via Con Dios. Be GONE! Go. GET! Don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out.

I know there are a zillion other ways to say it-but you get the general idea, I hope.

Expresso-ing Myself

Last night, after dinner with friends I went to Ross and bought one of those stove top expresso maker-they've always fascinated me. I think they are related to the pressure cooker though-I finally bought one of THOSE last year and still haven't summoned the courage to use it. Explosions unnerve me (because my brother painted contact explosives on a fence when I was 6). Ok-ok-it's true he did do that, but I think I just don't like bangs and flying projectiles in general.

I also got a wire wine rack so I can take the wine out of the cabinet in the kitchen-I need cabinet space and a 7.00 rack beats a new cabinet all to heck....

And a wire vase to paint and use for my new floral arrangement. Other than dumping fresh flowers in a vase, I don't believe I've actually arranged florals before. But I wanted something nice for Thanksgiving Dinner (what was I thinking?) and I really wanted to do it myself. Of course, now it's taken on a life of it's own-you'll just have to wait and see-but there is a good chance it will be as tall as I am by the time I'm done.....LOL. Which means, in my household, proper materials are key, or something so heavy the dogs can't knock it over......art meets engineering and german safety design.

It's been a sad-ish week. Hospice says it's time to make arrangements for John, and when I called all kinds of red tape arose surrounding cremation. In the end, it looks like a military burial is going to be his final rest or whatever they call it. My father helped me with some of it, and I know it was hard for him, but knowing what an elderly gentlemen who didn't leave instructions would want is just the pits. Now Daddy is leaning towards the military burial too. I don't care what he chooses, I just want him to choose something. I have trouble ordering dinner, deciding on someone's eternal resting place is a lot to ask.

The funny thing is, I don't care what they do with me. But John and my parents are of an era where those things mattered, and I want to honor them as best I can. That's partly what love is I think, going out of your way for thing that don't matter to you but matter to someone else you care about.

The parrot has taken up opera singing, and in the afternoon the neighborhood around my house sounds like a den of carnal pleasure. It's even funnier when he mixes dog training and opera....goes something like aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh 0hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh yeeesssssssss Good JOb!

Bit of a Gargoyle

I decided to refine my latte habit and instead drink good old 7-11 coffee, no cream, in the 99 cent refill reusable mug. Two days of that and I was puking acid (yes, brew really IS stronger than expresso) and have a rash even on my ears!

So, yesterday was no caffeine at all and lots of water and about 2 am this morning I woke up wanting to rip out every tooth in my head it hurt so bad. At 7 I crawled into a truck and went to Starbucks. I'm going back in a few minutes-not trusting my own brew to this critical situation.

I think I'm just going to have to suck it up and learn to make expresso.

Animal Wednesday

HAW!!!!! Nothing to give this morning, but wanted to wish you all a HAW anyway.

Letting Go

Why does one door opening always involve another closing? Why do we always have to choose and why do I dare complain when I have so much to choose from and others have so little?

I really really want to train a therapy dog-and in order to make the time, space, I am going to have to thin down my pack. I have decided that Moon will stay for sure and I'm just opening it up to the Universe to provide good homes for my other friends....or not. (if not, they stay here). So, while I'm really not actively rehoming them, I'm letting myself be open to the possibility. Beyond that, I am not going to try to specify what happens, just wait and see.

*****shiver*****I hate the unknown, I really really do.

Cheer for Yourself

Stand up right now and give yourself a cheer-clap your hands, stomp your feet. Yayyyyyyy YOU! Use your best encouraging voice---gooooooood girl (or boy)....gooooooooood, goooooooooood, yessssssssssssssss!

Ok, now tell me what happened.

Guilt

Is it enough to feel grateful for what we have?
What purpose does guilt serve?
Once upon a time I thought that was my conscience, my "guilty conscience", but now I think it has nothing to do with conscience or remorse and everything to do with fear.
Perhaps guilt is fear, after the fact.
That's pretty pointless, isn't it?

Saturday

Spent the day hosing down cages. Started with one and just kept going. I got Oliver the parrot a "sleeping cage" which I will keep in the bedroom, and move his big cage out to the front of the house. As it is now, he doesn't spent a lot of time IN his big cage in the back of the house-he likes to be out and about with the rest of us. BUT-he must go to bed far earlier than we do-so he couldn't sleep in the front of the house. So I got him a little travel cage and a cage cover so I could read in my own bed at night.

He was on board with the whole thing till I wheeled his big cage out (he was on top of HIS new cage with new toys and gloating....).

It will be interesting to see how he reacts when he wakes up in the morning (and when I go to bed tonight-he usually opens one eye, says "hello" and goes back to sleep. Ah, change.

Slipstream posted her sign's spin on the Mercury retrograde from this website.

Here is mine:

Scorpio and Scorpio Ascendant: All Mercury retrograde cycles particularly affect you in terms of communications with friends or groups, as well as intimate communications and shared financial resources, because Mercury rules these areas of your life. It would be wise to be especially clear when it comes to financial transactions and personal communications with friends, or, better yet, take this time to re-budget or rethink your plans instead of taking premature action. Group meetings may be postponed or cancelled, and friends may seem distant or confused. Occurring in your solar twelfth house this time, extra care should be exercised when it comes to your own intuition. You may find that you are less able to rely on your intuition. Perhaps you're picking up the wrong cues or reading too much into situations. Whatever the case may be, for the time being, you may not feel that your intuition is serving you well. Be as non-judgmental as you can, but do keep an eye out for deceptiveness and falseness in others. It would be wise to be especially clear when it comes to communicating about your inner world now; or take this time to re-examine issues rather than communicating about them prematurely.


I thought we could do a bloggy astrology show and tell.

Hmmm, what do I want to say

What do I want to say today

To be read tomorrow

That's always a mind bender for me.  My mind is easily bent.

Moon is in the kitchen in an X pen getting a dose of sounds-the Parrot is talking and playing with his Young Einstein singing phone.  The cat is on a cabinet staring at him.  It's a lot for a young dog to take in I suppose.

Out of the blue, my aunt dropped by with a cute dog purse.  I can't remember the last time that someone just brought me something cause they thought I'd like it-it felt pretty good.   Well, yes actually I do-I mean in real life, not from the blogosphere.  In real life people tend to give me things they think I should have (if I were more like them).

Moon is struggling with an age old conundrum-the house Xpen is a shorty-meaning he can, with some effort, climb out.  But, just because you can doesn't mean you should.

All the dogs have varying difficulties with the concept that they are locked up and someone else is not.  Mostly Moon's problem is just that he's an undisciplined puppy and the cat is happily tormenting him.

A dog's whine always triggers the "bad man's voice" in Oliver.  He's being very harsh now, then yelping after he punishes the long ago dog-Slim.  Poor Slim must've gotten hell.  I always wish him well when Oliver goes through his dog training bit.

Shit, I forgot to time the temper tantrum and now Moon is asleep.  It doesn't matter I suppose, each incident (for a dog) is new.  Moon is rapidly hitting early teenage hood, and that is always a joy.  Oliver (the dog) was/is probably the easiest teenage dog I've ever worked with.  Moonie is independent enough to raise the bar to a whole new level.  Heaven help us.

My horoscope today reads "It's a good time to go looking for inspiration.  You may want to check out your old standbys, but it's a better bet to seek it in places you've never tried before.  Things are getting more interesting by the day".   That wouldn't be hard to do-I've been kind of wrapped up in a shawl of despair lately.   I've tried acknowledging and accepting it-and now despair and I just sort of sit and look at each other and think "what's next?"

Until I figure that part out I do stuff like have cement pads poured on the side of the house (for a dog run, half grass, have cement, I LOVE IT already) and teach my dog how to open doors and turn on lights.  And sometimes I curse myself cause I still look for that pony under the pile of shit.

Dreamavsion

The corridor of time stretched out before us, long and gloomy and rather dusty.  Time and dust seem to go together, perhaps because time makes dust of us all.  The no bodies thing is kind of nice, my knees don't hurt, Mom and Uncle John are not old.  But the fear we all feel-that is real and now and not dusty or old either.

I call for reinforcements and Oliver the parrot, Moon and the blood pythons appear.  Because it's MY dreamavision, Mom and Uncle John are not frightened by them, they probably don't even know they are there.  Oh, now I get it it, part of the rules.  I am the consciousness, but I'm sharing their memories.  Cool beans, now we'll get to the bottom of all this, because at the end of the corridor lies...dum dum dum (Oliver intones helpfully)....the Crux of the Matter.

Holding hands with hands that don't exist, we gather our courage and walk through the creaking door.  No one has bodies, so the term walk works for those of us who waddle and who don't have legs.  Ok, we did not walk-we, our spirit selves, moved through the door, which didn't creak but opened silently.

And there sat the Horrible Crux......Mom and John's father wasn't a very nice man, he didn't have a job they understood or maybe not one at all, and they were poor and embarrassed about it.

Uncle John, Mom and the Horrible Crux vanish, leaving me only with my anger and disbelief.

"That is fucking it?  IT?  All there is?"

I work up a righteous anger, that turns suddenly into laughter.  I've been looking and brooding for months for the terrible gloom that hangs over us all, trying to understand it so I can fight it.  And I've been looking for things that would scare and bother me in THEIR past.

Even when people tell you things about their lives, we all still tend to see them through our own eyes and experiences.  I suddenly understood why my parents could not understand how lost I was when the snakes died last year.  And, I finally got it that when Mom looks at Moon, she truly sees an ugly dog-really she does.  My spirit dog wags his tail and I smile at him.  For an instant, a cur dog rises behind him like a puff of smoke-another's vision manifests-one that I reject.

"Still, I thought there'd be more."

"Not YOUR fears, only YOUR dream" Oliver intones and shoves his face into mine so that I see his beak and his beady eye surrounded by reptilian scales.

"How come no one else is talking?" I ask.

Oliver sighs and cocks his head, giving me his best patient look.  "I'm the only parrot".

So, Boogey Men are specific to each individual.  What cripples one person or molds their entire life course only does so if they let it.  But ponder this.  If Mom hadn't been embarrassed about her poor shiftless Dad, hidden in 50's domesticity and never emerged-where would I be?  Who would I be, hell what would I be?  In the middle of a different dream I suppose.

Mom asked me today "What did you DO all day?" and I answered "I worked" which is so much shorter and sweeter than "I'm not going to tell you so that you can place your own value judgements on how I spend my time."   I wonder if the Crux of the Matter ever felt the same way?

But I am only my own crux, no one else's.  If someone else wants to relegate me to the dark scary room at the end of corridor of time in THEIR dream, that's cool.  But this one is mine and I must learn to see it through my own eyes.

Wow, learning to see my own stuff through my own eyes and other people's stuff through their eyes-is that like a psychic boundary?

Stolen (from the web) delights

Ligers and Tigons and Elephants, OH MY!  HAW