SAINTS

i have these single framed images in my head from today. phoebe in the back seat of leila’s car, the old, old man in his wheelchair in his shabby home, the street man with a black garbage bag slung over his shoulder eating a sandwhich while he walked along the street, looking down into the lower meadow thru the trees and seeing lynn, mo and kathy with all the dogs, carl framed in the darkness against the light of the open barn doors, jack falling off the counter, (Deb’s fault, not mine) deb holding freddy in her arms, thomas our new little man with his funny pidgeon toe’d duck feet, making friends with bill, and finally, michael with a huge dinosaur smoke bone, too overwhelmed to even consider anything except looking at it in awe.

it was a good day as long as i stopped thinking and just looked around.

Any alpaca people reading this blog?  I either have a beserk alpaca or Martin has developed an evil sense of humour.

For the past six weeks, Charley and Isaac and I have walked the back pasture where Martin resides (about four long narrow acres) once or twice every day – Charley off leash and Isaac on a long lead.  Occasionally Martin has casually followed us about 10 – 20 feet behind, and stopped and watched us when we sit at the top of the hill to stare at the view. But there’s certainly never been any problem at all.

Today, as Isaac and I were sitting and Charley was exploring, Martin came thundering from the middle of the pasture all the way up the hill, straight towards us.  Thank goodness my dogs are not reactive – they just calmly looked at him like he was slightly insane and he veered off a few feet away.  Then as we started to walk back down, he tore towards Isaac and scared the cr*p out of me – again veering away just in time.  We continued and next thing I know, Martin is thundering down immediately behind me – I whipped around as he was inches from me and yelled at him and he just wiggled his rump and tossed up his heels and backed off a foot.  I “think” he was figuratively sticking his tongue out at me. :)

He did this twice more, until we were well back down the path towards the house.  Then he just stood and watched us. 

If he’s not beserk (and I read that alpaca’s don’t get beserk llama syndrome or its equivalent), then he either was trying to tell me something or he wanted to play.  I was wearing a heavy jacket so looked bigger than usual, but I talked to him when we first went passed him, so he knew it was me before he ever began charging.

The only other thing I noticed is that there was some fresh unidentifable scat on the trail – not bear or alapca or dog.  I don’t think it was coyote, as it didn’t have hair in it.  Maybe cougar?  It looked almost like it had llama-tex in it, so maybe it had eaten Martin’s food.  Martin didn’t let out any alarm sounds like he has when I’ve started to enter the pasture while the bear is there, but he might have been herding us back because of some animal intruder who had passed through recently and moved off into the bush behind where we were sitting.

Later, I went back out without the dogs and Martin followed me back to the barn for his food as usual – no charging, no games. 

Any ideas?  I really don’t want Carol to find me trampled to death by an alpaca next time she comes over.

 

i was having a discussion with someone and ego came up. ego always comes up in rescue discussions, it is the most effective way to knock someone down when you can’t find anything else to pick on them about. does ego come into rescue? always, lets face it ego is a huge part of being human and to pretend it isn’t is to put the blinders on. the truth is i am proud of what we have accomplished here at saints. it was really hard work, and from my perspective,  it has been really well done. there is no point in denying this. i am proud of the fact that most of the animals are happy and do well here and i am willing to bet that if someone from the outside of all of that hard work and sacrifice who hasn’t walked in our shoes, started taking pot shots, they would quickly would end up on my not so favorite person list.

my mother told me when i was a teenager that if i wasn’t part of the solution, i was part of the problem. i remember that and now everyone says this. she also told me about ego (my mother was a perpetual life long student while she worked fulltime and raised her family. by the time she died in her early sixties, she had her masters degree) what she told me about ego was…ego only becomes a problem if you don’t know it is there. when you invest a large portion of yourself into something and give it your all, there is alot of yourself and your ego wrapped up in whatever it is you are doing. ego drives you forward, ego makes you give your absolute best and ego is not a bad thing. ego becomes a problem when it is denied. once it is denied, you lose sight of the original goal and it becomes a self perpetuating prophesy of secretly feeding the ego hidden from view. i don’t know if anyone has ever read ann rand (my mother made me read her). i read her way back when, so maybe my memory is a little flaweed here, but what i remember about her books was an underlying philosophy that being selfish and self centered and ego driven was not such a bad thing. it accomplished alot of good things.

i have been thinking since last night about ego, and where it comes into play here…i do know it is here simply because i got pretty upset (after the fact) when told a couple of visitors with outdated knowledge judged us in a negative way . bottom line if i am being honest, is, they were judging us in a way i (or my ego) did not like. so now i know my ego is alive and well at saints. i don’t like feeling judged, it ticks me off.

but…here is the crunch in what i think  determines if ego is healthy or not. we as a group or as an individual,  know and see when an animal is not doing well here and needs something else. we know and see a great many things here that we can (and will) do better when we have more volunteers and funding. i personally have unwritten rules in place to protect my ego and everyone elses here…anyone who willingly invests blood, sweat and tears into saints has a say in how we progress and how we improve but if they are not willing to make that investment then while questions and suggestions and new ideas are always welcome, quick little superficial judgements without solutions are not. that is my ego doing it’s work to protect us from negative thinkers whose own egos might very well be hungry and need some food.

when we think of altruistic acts, we think of acts given freely without agendas or payments, that is how, deep down inside me, i really want to be. but i am not. i am a human being who likes to feel good about the things i work hard to accomplish, my ego wants to feel good too. is that such a very bad thing?

Today I had a little job to finish at Saints – re-installing a small gate between the kitchen area and the rooms at the back of the house.  Since Carol’s working late, I went over in the late afternoon figuring to take half an hour to do the gate before putting the barn animals to bed. 

Now, I should mention that I do not do handyperson chores by instinct.  I learned a few basics of carpentry and painting when I was a young girl working alongside my dad, but most of my home repairs have been learned from how-to manuals and trial and error during the many years I was a single mom with no discretionary income to hire fix-it people.  So I have to think through every step of every task or I end up with boards cut at the wrong angle, screws in the wrong place, or measurements that don’t measure up. But rehanging the gate seemed a simple enough task – I had cut and painted the new support posts yesterday and thoroughly cleaned the gate, and I had the right anchors, screws and tools to do the job.

SAINTS was surprisingly quiet – it must have been a busy day earlier, because the dogs were all snoozing.  No woodles out of Copper, no insistent yapping from Phoebe.  But within a few minutes I was wishing I had added earplugs to my tool box.  The troublemaker? Jack.  Little, cute, mechanical dog Jack.  Doing her frantic “I’m going to have a heart attack if you don’t feed me or pick me up or talk to me or let me out of here” song and dance. Nonstop.  And loudly.

So I carefully set out the tools I will need where I will need them – drill, screwdriver, sander, anchors, screws, gate and supporting posts – on the floor where the gate is to be installed, and then take a few minutes to attend to Jack. And just as I am returning her to the living room, I turn around to see Jazz, who I hadn’t even noticed was nearby,  pee – all over the tools, the gate, and the floor where I am about to work.  It was a BIG pee.  And her aim was perfect. 

So I get the mop and the paper towels and clean everything up.  Then I realize I forgot the level, so I pop outside to get it from my car.  When I return, Michael has planted himself in the exact spot where the gate is to go.  Not just NEAR the spot.  IN the spot -  crosswise from wall to wall, from where the right hand post will go to where the left hand post will go.  Like a gate. And he is NOT moving.  I try cookies.  I try “Michael – MOVE!”.  I shove.  I get a leash.  I cuddle and coerce and coax.  I finally put on my really mad voice and he reluctantly budges just far enough that I can get on with the job. 

Within minutes, both Michael and Jazz decide they better check that I’m doing it right, and two big furry faces are peering over my shoulder -one from the left, one from the right. And there is no light in that hallway, and dusk is setting in, and they don’t understand me when I echo the words my dad said many times:  “Move – you’re blocking my light!”

Fortunately Jazz can be bribed with cookies, so I tricked her into the entrance area and closed the gate on her.  Michael eventually decided I was doing an okay job, and lay down a few inches away to watch, allowing me to get the job done – all to the accompaniment of Jack’s continuing drama queen act. 

Work done, tools put away, barn animals to bed after a brief game of musical stalls.  Toonie had once again turned Carl’s stall into her private boudoir and ensuite, so I had to remove the evidence before Carl would consent to come in.

I go home.  Usually my Charley is the first to the door and very demanding of attention, and Isaac plods along behind.  And usually as soon as I get home from a few hours away, I take both dogs for a romp in the back four acres, with Charley eagerly running ahead and Isaac being coaxed along behind.  Today, Isaac was waiting by the door and burst out the second it was open – heading straight for the gate to the back pasture.  He does not understand this daylight savings thing – I tell him it’s dark and we can’t go, but he’s insistent.  Easy going, never make a fuss, go-with-the-flow Isaac digs in his heels – or his paws – and woofs and scratches at the gate until I finally get the flashlight and take him for a little romp.  Charley, meanwhile, just lies in the driveway and looks at us like we’re crazy.

Ya just never know who the troublemakers will be.

 

and 2 phones calls from friends about very sick animals and an email from the lady whose cat was so sick last week who she helped to pass when he told her it was time. so much worry and sadness today and more sadness to come for one of my friends. hugs to everyone in the world today, who has loved and lost a very good friend. and hugs to everyone who stands by their animal friends and remains their anchor in the storm.

both mo and jean want us to keep him…i don’t think that is an option…but he sure likes his new room with it’s prettily padded floor (thx jean and caroline)..mo is bringing him a wardrobe box tomorrow to make him a safe place to go inside and under which he likes to do….i just spent an hour with him watching him kill a little brown dog, 2 turtles and a cow. every once in awhile he would suddenly leap into the air and several times came really close to grabbing that fly. he can’t walk worth a crap, but he can chase fly’s…go figure. what a happy little cat…constantly up for a cuddle or a game (or a snack)…amazing that he can suffer that kind of profound and devastating damage and pick himself up and not only keep going but have fun while he does it too. rachel told me she was feeling some pressure from her co-oworkers to consider his quality of life and maybe think about euth. she was interested in my opinion on this after getting a chance to observe him for a few days… lol…there is NOTHING wrong with his quality of life, he is happy and joyful, he is adventuresome and interactive, he is interested and he is expanding his horizons…nothing wrong with that kind of life even if it is all experienced and participated in with a lot more challenge than most other cats. freddy is quite the guy.

it is the self imposed constraints on ones behavior. sometimes i want to be rude, and sometimes i want to be unkind, and sometimes i want to throw a fit and not be the least bit understanding or nice….oh wait…maybe this isn’t just related to rescue, maybe it is true of alot of other endeavors too….ok, so do you want to know what is the very hardest part of doing responsible anything is? it is all of the above. it is the inability to let loose, go to town and have a free for all postal moment (or two) and scream your frustration to the skies.

but, it is not just about self imposed constraints…it is about self discipline, and self evaluation and self insight, and self regulating the way you want to live your life. and since it is all about self…then the rest of the world shouldn’t matter and i need to try to remember that.

i was thinking today that honor is slowly disappearing. i grew up with the stories of sir walter scott, charles dickens and classic heros like robin hood, zorro, the lone ranger, and the scarlet pimpernel. i learned in kindergarten that very first and famous quote..”i cannot tell a lie, twas i who chopped down the cherry tree” and i grew up with real life heros like gandhi and martin luther king…where is their like now? my father when i was child away at camp, sent me a cassette tape of him reading me the gettysburg address and abraham lincoln became one of my forever hero’s.

where is the magic of a world that fathered these kind of men? and women with utter courage too like florence nightengale and anne frank and amelia erhart? where the heck are they in this day and age and how come generations that follow did not pick up their shining glow and carry on?

i think it is because we expect less of ourselves than we do of others. and i guess that is why i am tied up in knots today, because i expect others to be better than me. i better stop doing that right now cuz that is kind of stupid when you think about it.

the animals teach me, when i choose to listen…not to make judgements, just to live your life honestly, the best way that you can. to be grateful for kindness, to keep your eye on the happy bouncing ball and to share a cookie whenever you can…maybe as an adult, i found different hero’s. less complicated, more real, and certainly easier to follow. i guess that is ok too.

……was a quiet, tranquil place.  The barn critters went into the barn in quiet orderly fashion (with just one little hee-haw from Jenny, and a couple of pleasant grunts from Toonie), the dogs checked to see who had arrived but there was little barking, and except little Lola even the cats had me on ignore as they dozed in their assorted beds.  Saint Copper the Incorrigible did get up to say hello, but didn’t woodle – not even a single “woo”.  And while Phoebe pranced a little in the dogyard, even she refrained from a single bark! Whether it was their T-Touch experience today, the dusk, or the changing seasons, they were a calm, content bunch.  Let’s just hope it wasn’t the lull before the storm. 

I spent half an hour with Freddy – what a sweetheart that cat is!  And perhaps it’s my imagination, but I swear he is making significant progress.  He valiantly wobble-stumbled around the room, used his litter box without help, and gobbled down his food like he’d not eaten in a month.  I discovered that by holding him completely upright with his head firmly against my chest and the bowl in front of his chin, he manages to wolf down his food with no problem. We cuddled, we took a little walk around the house with him safely in my arms and looking with great interest at everything, and I left him rolling around in his bed with a soft toy between all four paws. 

He is a beautiful glossy black fluffball with shiny eyes that speak volumes. If he follows me home, can I keep him? 

it is all about the view i suppose. sometimes it is hard not to get discouraged and just plain tired. still, before phoebe wrecked it with her twisted competitive need to be first and only…i had a single moment of light. little sissy quietly came to me and placed her tiny little feet on my lap, looking for a cuddle. she looks like a survivor of the halocaust or a massive overdose victim of chemotherapy…but that tiny little dog, has the most beautiful and sweetest little face. and she may be one of the icky chi’s, but somehow she is lovely through and through. if my only view of the world was in the faces of the animals here, it would be a beautiful world.

1. if anyone has time this weekend (sorry i am back to work tomorrow)…to dry off and bring in those yoga puzzle mats that we put together for Saul and line Freddy’s floor with them, that would be great. it would give him some extra padding when he is banging around the floor plus he is still incontinent so they are easy to wipe down too.

2. freddy would like a vinyl bean bag chair if anyone sees one in a thrift store…he could safely climb on it if he wants to be up a bit, it would give him some good muscle stretching and it is safe for him to bang into or fall off.

3. freddy might also like some soft stuffed toys and soft stuffed balls to play with…nothing too big, or too small…maybe grapefruit size…easy to grab and roll or toss around. good exercise again and will help him increase his coordination skills.

4. freddy needs to be firmly held when eating or drinking to stabilize him so if anyone is visiting, please take some time to help him have a drink or a snack if he would like. there are cans of soft food on the shelf in his room for him that he likes.

5. freddy likes company to lay on the floor with him, he really likes that best of all. so anyone who has time to visit in the next couple of weeks, freddy is eagerly waiting to meet you and spend some time getting to know you. and remember that freddy does not feel sorry for himself, he just wants some help and support to get better.