Hello again world. It’s me, again. Doggebone. I hope you’ve been doing well since my last post.
Me? So glad you asked. I’ve been physically well but I am on a mission. You know how I love getting involved in making a difference.
My current objective is to address discrimination.
You might not realize just how bad discrimination is in the world today. It doesn’t begin or end with racial or ethnic discrimination either. Now we have to deal with species discrimination. Let me explain…
I cannot count the times my human mom has referred to me as her “son.” I have been proud of being her son. I am proud to have human siblings; to be a part of the family. In fact, my mom says that I am part of the family. But sometimes the actions of my family make me feel anything but included.
Case in point.
Mom received an invitation to a relative’s 50th birthday event. The envelope was clearly addressed to her “and family.” And family. Family. I am family, correct? Well, guess who didn’t get to go?
Yes. Doggebone.
Apparently it is okay to take me on an occasional ride to the store or even to visit relatives who live nearby, but taking me to a family event is not in the cards. But, then again, even visits to relative’s homes are rare. The first time Mom took me to a relative’s house I chased his guineas. He scolded me and I stopped. I obeyed. That is good, right? Yeah, I thought so too. But I’ve only been allowed to go back once since then. Obviously, mom fears that I will chase his birds again. Talk about stereotyping!
I just don’t understand why I am acceptable to attend family events at our home but when the same family has get-togethers I am excluded. They act like they like me, but actions speak louder than words.
Doggebone is always left out. And I know why.
It is because I am different. Sure, I don’t look the same as the rest of the family. I am shorter, a bit less conversational, but I try. I bet if I was five feet five and walked on two feet instead of four and had less body hair I would be invited. It is discrimination –pure and plain, discrimination.
Heck. It doesn’t begin or end with family events. Think about it. Dogs are only allowed inside of stores and other establishments when they have a blind or disabled owner. What about the rest of us, faithful family members? If I was to stroll into Wal-Mart I can only imagine the reception I would receive. I am sure Doggebone’s butt would be escorted out immediately –if not kicked out, literally. The discrimination doesn’t end here, either.
I have heard stories about birds getting into stores and the employees and customers think it is amazing –beautiful, in fact. So, does that mean that I should sprout wings and fly to get in the freaking department store? Only a few places, like PetSmart, will let me in, and then I have to have my Mom with me. How embarrassing for a canine of my age. Escorted by my Mom everywhere I go. Doesn’t that also constitute as discrimination?
I just don’t understand it. I have been a constant source of love and committed care to my family. Again, there is that word –family. I am here when they need me. They go off and do their own things and guess who is waiting, happy to see them, when they return home? Doggebone. Who never questions what they do and is always glad that they have returned? Doggebone? Who lies at the END of the bed on days when Mom says I need a bath? Doggebone. I have never once seen my human siblings put at the end of the bed because they decide to get their shower the next morning. Discrimination!
There appears to be a lack of public or legislative support for canine discrimination. See, it really is all political. I suppose my situation does nothing to further national (or even local) politics. Even the ASPCA doesn’t seem interested in my plight. Sure, the ASPCA campaigns for abandoned and abused animals and that is great; but what about those of us who are doing our God-given duty as family companions? Do we not deserve a voice?
I think we do. After all, fighting for my rights, alone, is ruff! What do you think?
Monday, March 12, 2012
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Here Kitty Kitty
Hey again world! It’s me, Doggebone.
It seems that my Mom has been busy lately and I’ve got a lot of free (translates to “lonely”) time on my hands (uhm…paws). So, I thought maybe I would just get some things off my chest.
First, I understand that my Mom has to work. After all, it is how she keep me supplied with Beggin’ Strips™and what I’ve come call 1-2-3’s. What are 1-2-3’s, you ask? I will tell you really quick, but remember, we are here to talk about MY issues, okay?
I have a little human cousin who I fell for immediately (well, maybe not immediately because she is a C-H-I-L-D). She would come stay with my Mom a couple of days a week and she would sit and patiently feed me my Beneful® one at a time until they were gone. When she quit coming I still wanted the special treatment. Mom refused to toss the bits of food one at a time. Instead, she said she would do only a few. She counts, “1” (my nub is wagging)… “2” (I am getting really excited)… “3” (she tosses and I run!).I return for the next and the next. She does that three times. Counts 1, 2, and 3, three times. Hence, 1-2-3’s.
Now back to me. Where was I? Oh yeah. My Mom has been busy working. I am proud of what she does but I am a little perturbed that she seems to have time to step out on the back deck to visit with those pesky felines. I really think she may be a Cat Whisperer. She already had Mr. M and Meow Meow when she adopted me. Now, she has Cali, Tiger, Belly Boy, Pretty Girl, Baby, and George. That is eight cats. EIGHT! I strongly feel that EIGHT is seven too many!
Cali, Tiger and Belly Boy are the offspring of a 15 year old, one-eyed cat named Camille that my Mom’s mother (my human grandmother, I suppose) had when she passed away in 2006. So, as you can imagine, my Mom refused to get rid the oldhag fur ball cat. Camille finally left for greener pastures. I think she was sick of the increasing population, too. I decided that I could live with Meow Meow inside and Mr. M, Cali, Tiger and Belly Boy outside.
Meow Meow is okay. She is fat and lazy and keeps to herself. She does get annoying when she wants to go “potty” (how sickening to hear the term!) because she pulls on the window blinds and mews LOUDLY until someone finally lets her out. She is ten times as loud when she’s hungry. But I deal with it.
Mr. M doesn’t bother anyone, expect other male cats. It’s a dominance thing, I think. He’s kind of rough around the edges and is constantly in fights. One of his fights was so bad that Mom had to take him for stitches. His front leg was gross. He was supposed to stay in for 10 days but he escaped, pulled out his stitches and found a nearby male cat to fight with again. Mom says she can’t afford $100 every time he fights. He seems to handle himself okay, I suppose. Not that I really care. If you want to know more about Mr. M’s history, you can read Mom’s article on “Cat Scratch Fever” on Divine Caroline.
Cali is okay. She’s kind of skinny for her age. She is a loner and rarely hangs out with her brothers, Tiger and Belly Boy. She had two kittens this past Spring. Mom gave one away and the other, Baby, is still here. I’ll tell you more about him later.
Tiger is kind of cool for a cat. He minds his own business but he has come to believe my Mom is his protector. It seems that his brother, Belly Boy, was weaned too early. Belly Boy’s name used to be Pumpkin but Mom changed it. He would follow Tiger everywhere, trying to nurse. How sick. They are males! Anyway… Mom would make him leave Tiger alone and now Tiger sees her as his protector. But Belly Boy didn’t just get his new name because of that. Mom says it’s because he only wants to be rubbed on his belly. When a human walks by, he hits the floor and rolls over for a rub. Of course, Mom always reaches down and complies. Human weakness!
Pretty Girl came up last year. Mom says her light smoky yellow fur and bright baby blue eyes are beautiful. To me, a cat is a cat and what is beautiful about a cat? At first, Pretty Girl wouldn’t let anyone touch her. Mom spent many weeks just being around her, not trying to touch her. Then one day that stupid cat walks up to Mom and rubs against her leg. Rubs turned to her letting Mom pet her head. Now, when Mom goes out, Pretty Girl runs to her, jumps on the deck rail and initiates the loving process. Mom massages these cats’ necks! Can you believe that? Well, she massages my neck, too, but that’s different.
Back to Baby. Baby was originally named Blue Eyes because of his bright blue eyes that seemed even brighter against his orange fur. Then he went blind in one eye. Mom said it didn’t seem right to call him Blue Eyes and certainly Blue “Eye” wouldn’t work. Plus, she way always telling him, “You poor baby.” It stuck. What is funny, though, is that Baby was weaned too early, too. Guess who his chosen substitute has been? Belly Boy! Karma bit that cat in the butt!
Then. There. Is. George. He is a pretty boy. Dropped off. His fur is too white and long and pretty to be on the body of a male. No. I am not jealous. It’s just that no matter what he does, he always looks pretty. I think he is a suck up, too. Mom thinks he is just sooo gorgeous and, of course, she let him stay. That’s all I have to say about him. Stupid, pretty boy flea bag.
I know I focus a lot on these cats, but can’t you see what the problem is? It was me (well…and Meow Meow who mostly keeps to herself and Mr. M who is outside), then came the brood. Mom’s massages were only for me. She even knows that my pawing at her arm means I want a massage. Now, she has eight cats lining up on the deck rails for massages. Is that not the craziest thing you have ever heard?
I don’t know how to tell Mom without making her feel bad. I mean she isn’t a spring chicken and she is single. Plus I have heard that a single woman with a lot of cats will end up being called an Old Cat Lady. My mom is above being an old cat lady. At least, I think so. But what am I to do? Is there a program for her? Perhaps, you would like a cat. According to Mom, they are all adorable and would make wonderful pets for some loving family. Personally, I don’t see how a cat can be anything but a nuisance, but if it will help reduce the population, I’ll go along with it! I know that Meow Meow and Mr. M are here to stay. I can deal with that. But the others really have to go.
So, what do you think? Are you in the market for a pretty boy with long flowing hair? Perhaps a sweet yellow male kitten that is blind in one eye? How about a couple of yellow and orange brothers? They are free. Plus it is best for my mom. I am thinking of her well-being.
Did I mention that they are free? Did I mention how much simpler my life would be?
Give it some thought. Seriously.
It seems that my Mom has been busy lately and I’ve got a lot of free (translates to “lonely”) time on my hands (uhm…paws). So, I thought maybe I would just get some things off my chest.
First, I understand that my Mom has to work. After all, it is how she keep me supplied with Beggin’ Strips™and what I’ve come call 1-2-3’s. What are 1-2-3’s, you ask? I will tell you really quick, but remember, we are here to talk about MY issues, okay?
I have a little human cousin who I fell for immediately (well, maybe not immediately because she is a C-H-I-L-D). She would come stay with my Mom a couple of days a week and she would sit and patiently feed me my Beneful® one at a time until they were gone. When she quit coming I still wanted the special treatment. Mom refused to toss the bits of food one at a time. Instead, she said she would do only a few. She counts, “1” (my nub is wagging)… “2” (I am getting really excited)… “3” (she tosses and I run!).I return for the next and the next. She does that three times. Counts 1, 2, and 3, three times. Hence, 1-2-3’s.
Now back to me. Where was I? Oh yeah. My Mom has been busy working. I am proud of what she does but I am a little perturbed that she seems to have time to step out on the back deck to visit with those pesky felines. I really think she may be a Cat Whisperer. She already had Mr. M and Meow Meow when she adopted me. Now, she has Cali, Tiger, Belly Boy, Pretty Girl, Baby, and George. That is eight cats. EIGHT! I strongly feel that EIGHT is seven too many!
Cali, Tiger and Belly Boy are the offspring of a 15 year old, one-eyed cat named Camille that my Mom’s mother (my human grandmother, I suppose) had when she passed away in 2006. So, as you can imagine, my Mom refused to get rid the old
Meow Meow is okay. She is fat and lazy and keeps to herself. She does get annoying when she wants to go “potty” (how sickening to hear the term!) because she pulls on the window blinds and mews LOUDLY until someone finally lets her out. She is ten times as loud when she’s hungry. But I deal with it.
Mr. M doesn’t bother anyone, expect other male cats. It’s a dominance thing, I think. He’s kind of rough around the edges and is constantly in fights. One of his fights was so bad that Mom had to take him for stitches. His front leg was gross. He was supposed to stay in for 10 days but he escaped, pulled out his stitches and found a nearby male cat to fight with again. Mom says she can’t afford $100 every time he fights. He seems to handle himself okay, I suppose. Not that I really care. If you want to know more about Mr. M’s history, you can read Mom’s article on “Cat Scratch Fever” on Divine Caroline.
Cali is okay. She’s kind of skinny for her age. She is a loner and rarely hangs out with her brothers, Tiger and Belly Boy. She had two kittens this past Spring. Mom gave one away and the other, Baby, is still here. I’ll tell you more about him later.
Tiger is kind of cool for a cat. He minds his own business but he has come to believe my Mom is his protector. It seems that his brother, Belly Boy, was weaned too early. Belly Boy’s name used to be Pumpkin but Mom changed it. He would follow Tiger everywhere, trying to nurse. How sick. They are males! Anyway… Mom would make him leave Tiger alone and now Tiger sees her as his protector. But Belly Boy didn’t just get his new name because of that. Mom says it’s because he only wants to be rubbed on his belly. When a human walks by, he hits the floor and rolls over for a rub. Of course, Mom always reaches down and complies. Human weakness!
Pretty Girl came up last year. Mom says her light smoky yellow fur and bright baby blue eyes are beautiful. To me, a cat is a cat and what is beautiful about a cat? At first, Pretty Girl wouldn’t let anyone touch her. Mom spent many weeks just being around her, not trying to touch her. Then one day that stupid cat walks up to Mom and rubs against her leg. Rubs turned to her letting Mom pet her head. Now, when Mom goes out, Pretty Girl runs to her, jumps on the deck rail and initiates the loving process. Mom massages these cats’ necks! Can you believe that? Well, she massages my neck, too, but that’s different.
Back to Baby. Baby was originally named Blue Eyes because of his bright blue eyes that seemed even brighter against his orange fur. Then he went blind in one eye. Mom said it didn’t seem right to call him Blue Eyes and certainly Blue “Eye” wouldn’t work. Plus, she way always telling him, “You poor baby.” It stuck. What is funny, though, is that Baby was weaned too early, too. Guess who his chosen substitute has been? Belly Boy! Karma bit that cat in the butt!
Then. There. Is. George. He is a pretty boy. Dropped off. His fur is too white and long and pretty to be on the body of a male. No. I am not jealous. It’s just that no matter what he does, he always looks pretty. I think he is a suck up, too. Mom thinks he is just sooo gorgeous and, of course, she let him stay. That’s all I have to say about him. Stupid, pretty boy flea bag.
I know I focus a lot on these cats, but can’t you see what the problem is? It was me (well…and Meow Meow who mostly keeps to herself and Mr. M who is outside), then came the brood. Mom’s massages were only for me. She even knows that my pawing at her arm means I want a massage. Now, she has eight cats lining up on the deck rails for massages. Is that not the craziest thing you have ever heard?
I don’t know how to tell Mom without making her feel bad. I mean she isn’t a spring chicken and she is single. Plus I have heard that a single woman with a lot of cats will end up being called an Old Cat Lady. My mom is above being an old cat lady. At least, I think so. But what am I to do? Is there a program for her? Perhaps, you would like a cat. According to Mom, they are all adorable and would make wonderful pets for some loving family. Personally, I don’t see how a cat can be anything but a nuisance, but if it will help reduce the population, I’ll go along with it! I know that Meow Meow and Mr. M are here to stay. I can deal with that. But the others really have to go.
So, what do you think? Are you in the market for a pretty boy with long flowing hair? Perhaps a sweet yellow male kitten that is blind in one eye? How about a couple of yellow and orange brothers? They are free. Plus it is best for my mom. I am thinking of her well-being.
Did I mention that they are free? Did I mention how much simpler my life would be?
Give it some thought. Seriously.
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