Saturday, June 25, 2016

I Wail And I Gnash and Still the Dogs Howl.

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THIS is a really sad day for me and not just because one of those crazy adult colouring ladies escaped with her felt pens and doodled all over Blissy … but with awesome technique … I would like to point out.  I  mean, if she were to post it in on one of those Facebook colouring groups, she would get soooo many "likes" and "loves" and maybe even some weeping.  IF they have added that emotion yet.  You know, the Italian mother kind of weeping when they child decides to become a priest or a nun or something.

It is a sad day because of the dogs next door which are howling in sorrow and sadness.  Don't argue with me.  I have recently found out I speak animal . ..  and I don't even whisper when I do it.  I figure those whisperers are just a bunch of fakes, afraid to speak out loud, because it is easier to smudge over a mistake in whisper talk than it is in real, loud talk.

You can shout out "chicken shits" right here if you like.  It will probably help you get through the rest of this post if you release some of the tension.

There is a big dog tied up outside and two little dogs locked inside and they have been in that state for almost 10 days now.  Their family has deserted them.  As in, I think they are divorcing.  I only say that based on the evidence presented to my non dead body which I excuse because it hears even when I have not commanded it to do so and sees even when I am not looking to see THAT.  I am hoping once I die, that whole condition will clear up.  ANNNNNNOY-ING!!

The 4 year old called the daddy type guy by the same name the mommy type called him when they first move in.  The mommy type would go "Geooooorge … I SAID, Get your ass over here." (I've changed the names to protect the innocent).  And George would not come.  So then the 4 year old would flounce over to the door, hand on hip in perfect mom imitation and scream , "GOWWWWGE … I THAID, Get your ath over here!"  And she would add a foot stamp which I have to say was pretty effective and the mother could take some tips from the kid.  Over the weeks "GOWWWWWGE" evolved into "Daddy."  I mean for the daughter, not the mommy, at least the mommy didn't call him that anytime thant I could hear.  Hmmm maybe I am getting better and was actually able to not hear when I did not intend to listen.  Health can happen like that ... just sort of sneaking up on you and making your well even when you did not expect it.  It is either that or I am dying faster than I realized and that part of my body is dying. You know like how computer screens do ... they cut out and come back on , and work for a bit and then not and then one day they are just completely gone.   

Continuing with the complete conjecture on what happened next door ... then there was all this yelling and swearing and asking of "what happened to the last $40 I gave yo?"  Followed by, "the baby needed diapers you dumbass."  Oh ya, there was a baby too.

Then there would be the sound of doors slamming, a truck revving its engine, and someone going to the pub for a long long time, several times, over and over again.

Lots more yelling and not being around.

Also a bunch of dogs living there.

And a cat.

And there was playing in the yard, and having the dogs inside and playing and talking and hey, it was a family.

And then suddenly there were no people there, at all, and just two dogs locked inside and one tied outside and then dogs barking and the dogs howling.  And I began to speak with the dogs.  Thank  heavens I did not have to run with them because being half dead as I mentioned earlier, the running part is definitely already gone.

I had to phone someone and in the end, no-one really can do anything about broken hearted dogs except go "awww" and "that is sooo sad," and "what a shame," and "poor dogs."  It is like being at a funeral for your grandmother except without the casseroles and stale cookies.  I mentioned that to the RSPCA lady that they should include that in their next fund-raising budget .. the need for stale cookies at least.  The lady tried to comfort me with information about what a starving dog will look like and act like.  I consider it really helpful to now know when they all stop barking, it will be a sign that their distress is acute and death is near.

I have never attended a dog death before and I resent the fact I am witness by virtue only of the placement of my office.

You know if there was a choice in Facebook for "wailing and gnashing of teeth" I am pretty sure it would get mucho action right now.  You should see the wailing and gnashing that went on with all of us on the phone.  Yhe RSPCA people care but they are not allowed to just rescue animals.  They have to try to be nice to the people first.  They also did not want me to get killed trying to help the dog.  I agreed with them that was probably a good idea.

They can break in if the dog has been neglected - but that means it has to be starving to death and not groomed.  The dog has short hair.  It comes pre-groomed.  She told me if it was starving, it would not be barking.  Howling is a sign of emotional distress.  I told my hubby that we should enjoy the barking, night and day, constant, endless barking .. because it means the dogs are ok.  He wanted to know if after another 4 or so days of this, if anyone would come to rescue us.  I told him no, people have pretty much burned all their charity bridges.  But I promised to check on him regularly if he was being too quiet and that I would dig him a hole somewhere under something because we might be dead but we could help to build a bridge before we go, that might make the next person who dies of endless dog barking and howling.

I don't think it made him feel any better.

I tried telling the dog that he was better off without that family and that he should find a new family, that really appreciates him. 

The dog tried to bite me. 

If he bites me we can rescue him.

So no-one cares if his heart is broken, he has to suffer it out, but if he goes ballistic and bites me, they will come and get him and take him somewhere that he will be fed and put with other dogs and have human interaction.  Then they will give him drugs and put him to sleep.

I plan on biting people once they start talking about putting me in a nursing home because no-one knows who I am and my family have all moved away and changed their names.  They will stick me in with all these old ladies named Deb and Susan and Linda and Diane.  Biting people so they put me to sleep seems more humane than eating liquid steak and  jello, sharing false teeth, and being forced to make paper mache  jewellery boxes.  I don want to learn how to square dance and be made to watch video's on gender reassignment and why it makes sense when you consider we outnumber the men by about 9 - 1.  I've already handed my gender in.  I would need to be branded Switzerland in the assignment debate ... or the Sahara Desert depending on the religious views of the person creating politically correct terms for that year.  I don't want to fight for anything when I am old.  And I don't want to be left like these dogs next door with some idiot saying there isn't anything they can do on account of I am still barking and I brushed my teeth.

So ya … look at Blissy's face, aren't the colours pretty?  

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SKIN:  New Faces  Laura
HAIR: rezology   Crimped
EYES:  Egozy.brown baby
LASHES:  Essences Perla
JEWELLERY:  Meva Round Plate Set Brown
NAILS:  Slack Girl ::SG:: Neutral Nails SLINK
DRESS:  [LIZ] Mesh Crochet mini dress [Blush]
SHOES:  :::ChicChica::: Kika Nude
LOCATION: Everlong
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