THE LOST DOGS OF LANGSTON.

Entry 16.

Okay now here's where we really have to get out of our own way and get going. Luckily Number 16 is The Tower in the Tarot and I guess that's the card this post has pulled. It's a major card too and that means somethin's goin' down. I don't know what but somethin'. And I hope it means "the way we've always done it." Will go down. And better ways of doing it will crop up.

That's the best you can hope for, with this card.

I've been writing to senators and representatives of Alabama, trying to get some legislation enacted to have people in this state be more responsible about their dogs and cats. Spay/neuter laws and such. Don't-dump-animals-on-your-neighbors laws. Everybody-is-your-neighbor-including-me laws.

I mean what in the sam hell we got goin' on here? Today Roscoe shows up at Surrealist Acres of Langston (that's what I call where I live, thanks to a good friend who named it for me) (Roscoe and Cinderella, as you may remember from some previous posts, are the two Great Pyrenees mix dogs that I've been feeding and taking care of for about two and a half years...just spent a whopping chunk of change on Cinderella to get her spayed and get her heartworm treatment at the vet for three months because I didn't have enough space to treat her myself at this house, it's not big enough for the three dogs I have now and there were five and at one time six so you can kinda see, well blah blah blah on and on) for breakfast, with TWO MORE PUPPIES. ONE OF WHOM HE IS ALSO TRYING TO IMPREGNATE.

Now if that's not more disturbing/entertaining/train-wreck-can't-look-away-ish than that Cesaire woman's recorded confessions of her very colorful sex life with public figures, then I don't know what. Although I must admit she's extremely entertaining.

Yes I listened. At least twice. It's a hoot. A somewhat disturbing hoot perhaps, on several levels, and not very well edited, but a hoot nonetheless. You can listen here: https://conservativedailypost.com/rino-busted-in-affair-steps-down-from-senate-run-after-explicit-details-exposed/

(Scroll down to find the YouTube recording. Starts off with a bang. So to speak.)

(I wish that girl would start an animal shelter. It would be more popular than McDonald's.)

I swear for all the world this one big dog that has showed up today looks just like Cinderella. Moves like her, acts like her, about the same build too. Almost the same size. I am guessing it's Cinderella and Roscoe's puppy. This is a new one aside from the other five that I've seen before, three of whom I named Preacher, Pepper and Clyde, and one of whom I named Little Dog and saved from an accident close by on the road here with the help of my across-the-street neighbor and a policeman from the neighboring town, but I wasn't able to save his life and have a three-legged dog for a long time because he died three days after his amputation surgery on his back right leg. He was doing fine and then just suddenly probably threw a clot and died. I have his ashes in a white marble urn that says "Little Dog" on it on a little plaque that goes under the urn, and that's all I have left for my efforts. Sweet dog, too. A little food-aggressive but that's easily handled if you have any savvy at all.

Jesus do I have any savvy at all left. Time will tell, Time has a big mouth.

Well I've called the shooting expert around here (there is one) to ask if he will come out here with a stun gun and get Roscoe subdued before he makes any more puppies. I intend to scoop Roscoe up and get him into the car and to the vet before he wakes up. I know I can do this, they do this all the time on the damn tee-vee, on those freaking wildlife shows. The other puppy who is here today (they're all lying down in a pack in the clover on the outer edges of the lawn/yard/property after being fed hot dogs and hamburgers and regular dog food, plus a couple morsels of prosciutto and cheese panini) (no I am not vegetarian, I tried it for six months and got very sick and went back to eating meat) (what the hell am I explaining this for, it's none of your business anyway, I don't ask you what you eat for chrissakes, nor would I ever judge you for it, that's not who I am) (why do I suspect that people are judging me all the time? Probably due to my former active anorexia days, as anorexia makes people more paranoid than you might imagine...the eating disorder itself mostly went away, but the paranoia didn't) (anorexia never really goes away...but don't try to manipulate me because I will smell it coming, like a dog smells stuff, even before it happens, and I will verbally shoot you down quicker than a quark can take a poop and that's pretty damn quick, something like much less, far less than a tiny fraction of a nanosecond) is like a dark-chocolate-colored version of Roscoe, with the patch-over-the-eye figuration, and just as people-shy. He looks a little cross-eyed too. He won't come into the fence or even close to me at all and when I go out to ask the female "puppy" to come in the fence, twice, she won't come, either. She says no twice and therefore I have to go back in the house and get on the horn and at least try to get something done.

Roscoe can get over both fences, as I think I've said before.

So God in heaven: what on earth is a somewhat mentally ill and not very organized person doing in the middle of Langston trying to have the halcyon days of retirement and yet instead making efforts to save/spay/neuter/rehome all these dogs? Learning something about life? Jumping up and down to no avail? Slowly dying? Using up all their physical energy just trying to win a lost cause, praying to St. Jude the while who is patron saint of lost causes, St. Roch who is patron saint of dogs, St. Francis of Assisi who preached to his sisters the birds (and who incidentally is the reason we have Christmas music and nativity scenes, and probably by extension of all that, he is thus also the reason we have reenactments of the French and Indian War, too) and every other spiritual helper they can think of...and at the same time, calling on real people to help...and using up all their mental energy trying to think of some way to get some attention for this very very lost cause...

...or all of the above? Or are they just trying to get attention?

Well let me ask you, who on this planet is NOT trying to get attention, in some way, shape, form, or manner?

Not one single person or animal or plant or tree you KNOW. That's who.

Because we're not here not to be here.

And let me tell you, it's also kind of fun to PAY attention to others, too, for whatever that's worth.

That's why I am hoping Alabama will pay attention when I say, up north in many of the other states of this glorious union of the United States of America, they don't HAVE this animal overpopulation problem that we have here.

Probably because of LEGISLATION THAT PREVENTS IT because people there are required to SPAY AND NEUTER THEIR ANIMALS.

Now. You. Gentle readers. Either talk, or do something, or both. Go tell it on the mountain, or to Sweeney, or go tell Aunt Rhody, or take it to the Lord in prayer. Pray that these dogs don't all gather together in packs and eat someone's chickens, or goat, or cow, or child, or uncle. (Uncle is a funny word when you think about it. Spend as much time as you need to doing this. We do intend to be merciful.) Write to your senator. Write to your representative. It's easy, just go to the email form on their page, it won't take but a few minutes. Or send 'em a dang snail mail letter, if you're into that sort of thing. Feed a stray. Get a stray neutered and rehomed. Share pics on your page of dogs and cats who need homes. You never know who will see/fall in love with which animal and go after it and give it a good home. Donate to or volunteer at animal shelters and animal rescue agencies, if there are some you like.

Or just walk away. If you can.

I can't. But I don't have a stun gun, so I'll have to keep jumping up and down out here until something gets done.

Angelo is barking at those other dogs.

Please oh please, somebody do something.

(Jump. Jump. Jump. Up and down, up and down, up and down.)

(Jump. Jump. Jump.)

(Jump, ad infinitum)