THE LOST DOGS OF LANGSTON.

Entry 15.

So here's my problem. (Don't you hate it when people say that. You know you don't want anything to do with their problems but you get grabbed by that first sentence and you have to look.)

So here's my problem, and it's the same problem everywhere in the world, only in a little microcosm, which means I'm really zeitgeist because it's what everybody's thinkin' about, at least on some level. And I do mean everybody because it affects you, and you, and also you, and you over there, and you too. And even you, yes you whining in the corner about your own problems, yes it affects you too.

The problem is this: Tinky wants to kill other dogs and I don't want her to. Because I have two other dogs and I want to keep them all as long as possible, even Tinky. Because I love Tinky, but she wants to kill other dogs.

Sound familiar?

Kind of like I have my own little bitty microcosm that sort of fractally reflects people out there in the big world shooting each other and stuff?

Yes. How do we keep people from shooting each other?

Well there seems to be an awful lot of talk about it but no one's come up with anything yet. Perhaps we better look at statistics in different countries that have better statistics than we do and maybe start doing things their way.

Oh hell they'd bite my damn head off if I even such as suggested such a thing. Peace on earth? Are you fucking kidding? We can't do without our slavish devotion to cowboys and Indians!!! Heaven forbid!!! There's got to be a bad guy and a good guy or we can't have our Friday night Hollywood movie entertainment!!!!!!!!

Well when you get tired of it, people, then you'll change it. You apparently ain't tired enough of it yet. You need to talk about WHY and WHAT A TRAGEDY and SENSELESS KILLING and blah blah blah that you need to talk about, OH WHAT HAPPENED IN THE NEWS TODAY THAT WE CAN WHINE AND BE ALL MOANING MINNIES ABOUT, CARL JUNG SAYS THIS IS EACH ONE OF OUR FAULTS PERSONALLY BECAUSE IF A SOCIETY DIDN'T WANT A THING, IT WOULDN'T HAVE IT; IF MURDERING PEOPLE WASN'T FASHIONABLE, IT JUST WOULDN'T BE DONE.

Now would it. You have to admit that there's something to what I'm saying. That deep down in each one of us is blood lust. On most people you can't see it or even come near it, and they'd deny it, but it's there. It might be just a theory but it's a theory maybe worth investigating so we can see what to do about it to either stop it or contain it or focus it on something creative instead of destructive or whatever, and what-not. We are animals and we all have blood lust somewhere in our makeup. Like Tinky's blood lust. Her fear, her anxiety that creates her blood lust. This other dog over here is gettin' more than me, more of whatever this other dog is gettin'. I have to kill off this other dog so it won't get more love, food, attention, treats, blankies, whatever than I'm gettin'.

Because I'm scared there won't be enough, Mama. Or that there's not enough and I have to fight and compete for whatever I get.

Well maybe that's the answer right there. Maybe we need to substitute COLLABORATION for competition in the school system. Maybe we need to value each child coming up in the school system equally, for whatever individual talents and gifts that child has, and show everybody how to work together to create a better society where everybody is valued.

Maybe just maybe. How in the hell we gonna do that.

And how am I gonna manage Tinky, in the meantime? It's like, either get a trainer. Or a whole force of trainers. Or someone to babysit while I get some sanity or even some break time. Which I can't imagine at all, because these dogs are my life. There's no better job than takin' care of a animal, which my friend MJ says and she is right.

So maybe if we teach this in the schools, that there's no better job than takin' care of what we got, then we'll come out all right and there won't be all this killin' in the streets and people won't be afraid of each other and we can learn how to communicate and we can have heaven on earth or some such.

You know?

Y'know?

So I guess I'll do pictures and such soon and y'all can see her and maybe someone will fall in love with her, just like I did when I first saw her, like I do when I see her every day and how many times am I gonna have to say this but it just tears my heart out that I have to let her go, if indeed I do, and that people don't all think the same way I do about animals which I am trying very diligently and desperately to change.

Because if everything is God's creature, the snails and the plants and the bugs and everything and what-not, then why do I have to step on bugs and snails when I go out? Why doesn't God make it (as I have asked God to do many many times, practically thousands of times because there's been a lot of time to talk to God or the Universe or whatever whatchamacallit out here during this pandemic, and one day I'll see the reason for that but it's sometimes a little unclear) where I can walk three inches above the graund so I won't step on any of His/Her other creations?

I don't even wanna step on a blade of GRASS!!!!!!!! Or even a dirt molecule, either, seeing as how dirt molecules are responsible for a lot of the food we eat.

I guess by extension I don't really wanna eat either, and be a Jain and starve myself together for God or whatever. But that's a little extreme and I like coffee with the vanilla creamer in it and cake too much and I probably won't end up sitting there starving with a little bell that will ring when I'm not breathing anymore all wrapped up in that casement thing like they do. Yes this happens and you can read about it, just google it, you'll find out.

But if everything living and sentient is a child of God, then how we gonna work this out?

It's a jungle out there, people. And we need to stop burning the jungles and the rainforests down or we're not gonna have any air or peace or life without natural disasters anymore. If you fuck with Mother Nature, she WILL fuck back.

Which I guess is why I'm gonna stop worryin' about it for the time being, and go switch the dogs out so Tinky can have some yard time.

And if Miss Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy doesn't step up and call Uncle Wiggily on his raclsm the very ncxt time he does it, before you can turn around in a circle and say one-two-three, then I'll tell you that story I promised to tell you in a previous blog entry. Only I have to check with some people first on how much I can actually say and still keep things harmonious. I have to ask people who are smarter than me, and luckily there are a lot of those.

Hell, even Uncle Wiggily has his own form of blood lust, for that fucking turnip steering wheel.