Mary Cate

The above is a true story, but the following "moral" just came to mind:

It is best to let sleeping hogs lie.

I love pet stories and am also seeing how many consecutive threads I can be the last contributor to. I am hoping it will get me over my crabbiness from having this nasty cold/flu thing.

This is a regular Lassie kind of story:

My mom sent my brother and I out to read the gas meter for the farm. In those days, the gas company trusted you to read your own gas meter, send in the numbers and get billed.

I was about 6 years old and brother Frank was about 7. The gas meter was located inside of a rickety fence inside of the pen where the very mean boar pig (for non farm folk, that is an unneutered male hog used for breeding purposes) lived. My brother Frank felt inspired to go into the shed where the very large pig was sleeping to wake him up and say hello. I crawled over the rickety fence to start writing down the gas meter numbers. A few seconds later, I saw brother Frank come tearing out of the shed with Julius the boar pig in hot pursuit. Frank jumped over the rickety gas meter fence for temporary safety. We both knew that it was only a matter of minutes before Julius would be able to tear through the fence and begin to eat one or both of us.

Out of the blue a stray dog (who we'd named Louie and had hoped would stay around since we fed him and played with him) who had showed up at the farm a few days earlier came running towards the pig pen. He jumped the first pen and started biting at the boar's nether regions. Julius proceded to chase Louie in the direction of the farther fence affording brother and I the opportunity to run towards the closer fence. Needless to say, we both made it as did Louie. (That brother grew up to be a lawyer and a large scale hog producer. He was not at all traumatized by the event).

Oddly enough, we had a big dust storm a couple of weeks later. This was the mid '60s and Interstate 90 was under construction in the rural counties of Southern Minnesota. Because they cleared so much area to construct the road and took so long to pave it, we had horrible dust storms that year. We had driven to one of the other farms a couple of miles away from the home farm to prep for spring planting. In those days all of us kids no matter what our age had jobs to prepare for spring planting. Louie followed us to the other farm, running behind the car.

We worked for several hours and then a dust storm started. We quickly packed all of the kids into the car to head home before it was too late and we'd have to hole up in a shed to wait out the storm. Those storms were so black and thick you couldn't see your hand in front of your face and driving was impossible.

Mom wouldn't let us take Louie in the car with us and said he would make it home in time if he ran behind the car. We barely made it home before everything went black and we never saw Louie again.

Louie saved my life - and brother Frank's.

I was mad at Mom for a long time for not letting us bring Louie in the car. Could never tell her so because that would have been back talk.

I never knew what happened to Louie, but did pray for him that he found a good home somewhere else during the storm. I searched the road ditches for weeks and never found him so I believe it's true.

Maybe Louie was some kind of angel or just a good dog in the right place at the right time.

Maybe that is why I am so hard headed about my love for dogs and rescuing them, saving their lives to love and be loved by humans who deserve them.

As an aside that pertains to the rabbit thread:

If Julius had injured me, I wouldn't have blamed him, I would have blamed my brother Frank. He had been trained to respect boars as very unpredictable animals that should not be surprised. Julius was just an animal following the instincts God gave him. Brother Frank was being careless.

It amazes me that people think animals deserve such harsh penalties as being made into stew when they do something we humans don't like. (I had to come home from work early because i have a nasty chest cold, so I have time to drag out the soapbox)

It is very unfortunate that this little girl was injured, but the rabbit doesn't deserve the death penalty. Adults should keep their animals safe from the children and their children safe from the animals.

Garth,

It is very mean to tell someone who has just expressed how much they love their animal that an animal of the same species should lose their life because of one incident that has more to the story than we have heard. Please play nice, put away that stew pot and step away from the stove - or put tofu in said pot rather than bunnyrabbit.

My last year in residence, there was a mild earthquake in New Knoxville, OH. That would have been about 1986 - spring time. It knocked some pictures off of walls and woke most people up. Not me - I slept through it. Don't recall anyone at HQ mentioning an idolatry connection then.

MCR

We don't stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing...G.B. Shaw

Thanks for your responses and prayers and for the emails. I have gotten some very helpful responses. I knew this was the best place to go for info and prayers.

MCR

We don't stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing...G.B. Shaw

My mom has cancer that started out as breast cancer. It spread to her lymph system, bones and now her lungs. It hasn't shown up in her digestive system, but she can't stop vomiting and has very bad nausea. It's too late for chemo, but I want to know if there is anything that can be done to at least make her more comfortable. Does anyone know of any herbal (or other) treatments that could help her nausea and stop the vomiting? The docs say they are giving her everything they can. Help!

MCR

We don't stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing...G.B. Shaw

How about a January, Feb or March get together in Arizona? You would probably get a lot of interest from those of us who live in the frozen states.

MCR

We don't stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing...G.B. Shaw

So you must know about Norwegian bachelor farmers and how long it takes Minnesotans to say good bye.

The text book for the course must be the one they sell at the airport. It has the same title and a picture of a "little lunch" on the cover.

MCR

We don't stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing...G.B. Shaw

My heart goes out to you. I am so sorry about the loss of your friend. To a sold out animal lover, losing a pet friend is like losing a child in many ways. Give yourself plenty of time to cry and mourn and tell everyone how wonderful your dog was if it makes you feel better.

When my best friend died over a year ago, I buried her on the family farm with a statue of an angel kneeling over her grave. I feel as compelled to pay my respects at her grave as I do at any family members. She was my angel and I still choke up thinking about her.

Please accept my most heart felt sympathies.

MCR

We don't stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing...G.B. Shaw

My dad bought a winter home in Casa Grande, AZ for health reasons. Casa Grande is just south of Pheonix. I went to visit him last winter thinking I'd hate AZ, being the die hard Minnesotan that I am. I loved it! I went with my dad to visit the model home in a nearby development and just out of curiousity, checked what kind of a home I could get for the present value of my modest home in the Minneapolis area. It was a freakin' mansion!

The home my dad bought there is similar in size to my home in Mpls, but without a basement. It cost half of what I paid for my house two years earlier.

I recently read that Arizona is one of the best states in the country to own a small business. The state has a large elderly population, many of whom are affluent and need services a younger population doesn't need.

I don't know what the overall economy is like, and I am sure it has its ups and downs. I think it's probably like anywhere else: with some ingenuity and hard work, you can do all right.

MCR

We don't stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing...G.B. Shaw

Thanks for taking the time for telling your story. It is heart wrenching, gut wrenching and reminds of the rage I keep under wraps for people who control and exploit others.

I sincerely hope that you are able to see your children. If it's not too late, I also hope you and your wife could work things out. It seems like you were a happy family at one time. Maybe it's too much for you to think about right now, and maybe I shouldn't even mention it. I don't even know either of you. It is just a strong feeling I get from reading your story.

With hope and prayers for you and Mrs. O.(or the former Mrs. O as the case may be)

I can't believe I just wrote that, but I am being honest.

MCR

We don't stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing...G.B. Shaw

Littlehawk,

Do you have any pictures of that cat? That cat weighs more than both of my dogs and the last foster dog I had combined. Thirty two pounds!! How can that be? He would eat my Lucy for lunch and my Joey for dessert! Do you live near a nuclear power plant?

MCR

We don't stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing...G.B. Shaw

JJ,

The picture is wonderful. Your children our beautiful.

Thanks for the thanks to us foster moms and dads. I encourage anyone with a little room in their heart and home to be a foster parent to a kitty or a dog. I have loved every foster dog I have had as if it were my own, and really do get more back than I put into it. I thought I would hate the adoption days - sitting still for three hours and showing my dog to the public. Instead I find I enjoy it because I meet other people who love dogs as much as I do and meet all of the dogs in the other foster homes. I also get to see the "magic" that happens when a family is made - the right four-legged(s) meet the right two-legged(s). Sigh.....

MCR

We don't stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing...G.B. Shaw

Rascal,

I think it's great that you're raising your children to care for animals. I grew up with animals and was taught that they have feelings and deserve to be treated humanely. I think it has made me more sensitive and compassionate towards humans as well. I am sure your children are learning that lesson, too.

I hope you will be able to post pictures of your animals. I especially want to see your Rat Terrier.

MCR

We don't stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing...G.B. Shaw

It's funny that you should mention Tribbles. I am not a Star Trek fan, but one of my coworkers is a ST fanatic and keeps a picture of Captain Kirk and the Tribbles on her bulletin board. When I got my most recent foster dog, the blind dangzu, I thought "Hey, she looks like the Tribbles on Kathy's bulletin board. At the adoption days, people always ask what breed our foster dogs are. I was just waiting for someone to ask me that so I could say that Callie was a Tribble. The first person to look at her that day adopted her and knew she was dangzu so I missed my chance. Oh well..

I agree with you, RottieGrrrl. Dogs from shelters do seem more grateful. All of the dogs I have had as an adult have been from shelters or rescue orgs. THey just seem to have so much character and personality. My little Joey weighs 11 pounds, but when he thinks a dog or human is too close to his mommy, size doesn't matter. He acts like he's 110 lbs. Of course he shakes like a leaf after the confrontation is over and runs to me for comfort, but I love his courage. Lucy is the best little watch dog. She loves her home and lets me know when she hears noises that she thinks "aren't right".

I really believe I get more back from fostering dogs than I put into it. You'd be amazed at how many wonderful people there are out there. I am in awe of the other volunteers who will take some very difficult dogs and work with them to make them adoptable. There are people who have been spending two Saturdays a month at adoption days for the last 10 to 15 years. We are a no kill organization, and that takes a lot of committment. Working with the public who adopt our dogs is also a great way to build faith in the goodness of people. There are many people willing to adopt handicapped animals, to donate money, supplies and spread the word about pets that need homes.

I am glad to see the good response to this topic. I am happy to know that there are "kindred spirits" here. (I only mean that as Anne (with an "e") of Green Gables used to say about her friend.

MCR

We don't stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing...G.B. Shaw

I am with St. Francis of Assisi on this one:

If you have men who will exclude any of god's creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, you will have men who will deal likewise with their fellow men.

-- St. Francis of Assisi

MCR

We don't stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing...G.B. Shaw

Thank you for the pictures. Makes me want to get a digital camera so I can show off my babies.

Joey is a chihuahua rat terrier mix. He claimed me at an adoption day at a PetCo. I went in the store with the intention of buying supplies for my other dog when I overheard a conversation between two shelter workers saying that they thought he was unadoptable. He looked so sad and depressed, I wrote a check and put him in my cart with the supplies for my black lab. When the love of my life, my black lab, died several months later, Joey was a great source of comfort. Joey is named Joey because he just looks like a Joey. Since my dad insists his grandchildren have middle names because that's "what Catholics do" (but I am a Methodist), Joey's middle name is Pierre. He was the first small dog I ever had.

A few months after my lab died, I was looking at the local shelter web sites and found Lucy Rose, a Pomeranian mix. I brought her home in October of 2001 in honor of the stray black lab that had found and claimed me seven Octobers earlier. She is named after Lucy in the Peanuts comic strip and my youngest sister, Rose. Sister Rose is not sure how she feels about yet another dog being named after her. She said Lucy makes three.

I am a foster mom for a local rescue organization. So far I have fostered a puppy mill rescue name Peanut, a dangzu/Poodle mix. She came to me terrified of everything. SHe had spent her life in a cage with little human contact or socialization. It was painful to see the fear in that little creature's face. Joey P. and Lucy R. taught her how to trust people, have fun and enjoy life, and now she is in a permanent home with a wonderful mom and big brother.

After that Joey, Lucy and I took care of Dexter, another chihuahua mix. When he was one year old, his parents decided that he took too much time and wasn't as cute as when he was a puppy. He came to live at Daisy Hill (what I named my house and yard after the puppy farm that Snoopy came from because the dogs here are very happy). He now has a permanent home with a mom that is in love with him.

THen came another dog exploited by a puppy mill. She is a blind dangzu. She had been with another family for awhile but they had to go to a nursing home, so Cally needed a new home. She found a new mom yesterday at our adoption day.

I will probably decide to keep a foster dog every now and then, so my pack will grow. I do miss the big dogs so I am thinking I need to get a higher fence.

I think dogs should be tax deductible as a medical expense. I think I am healthier mentally and physically because of my dogs.

My dream in life is to have a job where I can take my dog to work. Someday...

MCR

We don't stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing...G.B. Shaw

Hello to any other 14th Corps who happen by here. I have been out for about 15 years and am living in Minnesota. I have a decent job and keep my grass mowed. Pretty shocking for someone from the lazy corps. Oddly, that drive by insult by Chrxx Gxxx our last year in res. still pixxes off this hard working, corn fed farm girl. And I have pets, lots of pets, major pets.....

Mary C. Riley

Mary Kate Green Jeans