The Animal Inside My Animal

Our Dog Sanchez

My mind was in a near meditative state, as it often is while gardening. On this fateful Friday the 13th afternoon I was carefully clipping the oleanders back, just so. I was definitely in what I call my “gardening-zone” when suddenly I was brought back to reality by an ear piercing scream of a cat. A cat in serious trouble.

Initially, I hoped it was just the sound of two cats having sex or possibly in a cat fight. Unfortunately, as I soon found, it was much worse.

I put down my shears and followed the sounds to my neighbor’s side gate. I hesitated at first, not wanting to trespass, but as the screams grew louder I knew I had to investigate. The gate was open just wide enough for me to peek my head through to see what was going on.

To my horror, just beyond the gate were two large dogs who had cornered a cat. Each was biting and tossing the small white Siamese-mix up in the air and shaking it violently each time it came down. I ran towards them yelling to stop, which thankfully they did. The two ran off like nothing had happened, leaving the severely traumatized cat laying in the tall fur covered grass. Her tiny triangular nose was blood red and tail lay limp, bent in the wrong direction as if it were broken. Her body was ravaged, I could see spots of red in her matted coat. I tried not to look beyond the blood, fearing I might see guts.

Her deep blue eyes were in a fixed stare as she gasped for air, obviously in extreme shock. As I got closer, my presence broke her stare. I could sense the concern in her eyes, too hurt to move, but worried I was coming to finish her off. I backed off right away, hoping not to make her any more terrified than she already was.

I just stood there for a few minutes, not sure what to do. Rushing her to the vet crossed my mind, but her with her injuries would I even be able to pick her up? The way they had her in their mouths, there must be serious internal injuries. I wondered if I should have just let them finish her off, now she’s just suffering, slowly fading away right in front of me. What an awful way to have your life end.

I walked back to my yard in a daze until I looked up and there were the two killers, circling around the culde-sac like two teenagers on a joy-ride. I tried to coax them back to their house and away from their dying victim. This is the second time their owner has let them out and the second time they’ve killed at cat. I did not witness the first attack, but our old renter did. She called on the owner to control his dogs, as they were in the middle of the culde-sac shredding a cat to pieces. Apparently he showed little concern and finally called them to come back home.

One thing that was really disturbing is how much the dogs enjoyed what they had done. They had no remorse and could care less about that cat or the humans who would miss it. That led my thoughts to my own dog and if he would have joined in, given the chance. My answer was swift, as I walked into my house I was informed that our dog Sanchez was whimpering and whining to go outside hearing all the ruckus from the cat killing. He might be domesticated, but he’s still got that killer instinct… just under the surface.

I returned next door to check on her just a few minutes later. I hated the thought of her dying alone or worse, having her attacker return before I could and finishing her off.

Her once glassy eyes were now in a still haze, it was the haze of death.  Deep sadness rushed over my body and out my tear ducts.  Sometimes I wish I didn’t “feel” so much, this was one of those times.

I was relieved she no longer had to suffer, but saddened at losing her. If losing the life of one stray cat hurts this much, imagine what life might be like in Syria. I don’t know how they cope with death on that scale. I really don’t.  I really don’t see how they could inflict such harm either.  Too bad I can’t send them some of my abundant “feeling” to make them more human and make them stop.

My dog just chased our cat down the hallway at full speed! Ugh! Now I know what will happen if he actually catches him.

SANCHEZ!!!!

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Nuts Landing – Our Crazy Culde-Sac


I always wanted to live in a culde-sac since watching this old series. To me, the culde-sac represented a close-knit group of family friends and neighbors… “where everybody knows your name.”
Now that we’re actually living in a culde-sac, I can’t say it really compares with Knots Landing. Everyone except for maybe myself and the cat-lady-hoarder who lives next door are pretty average. Everyone tends to keep to themselves.

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How Can We Help Syria?

As I was mowing the lawn today I couldn’t get that image out of my head.  The face of a man being carried away from the gunfire.  His body limp, his face bloody and only half there.  I wondered what had happened after the video ended.  Did he live?  Did THEY live?  If he did live, I wondered if they could reconstruct his face.  If they lived, how long would it take to reconstruct their lives?

I realized just how lucky I was in this mundane weekend task. I wished those in the video could be here with me now, where my biggest concern is hitting a sprinkler head with the mower; not getting hit in the head by a snipers bullet.

I found the video by accident.  I was curious about the hacktivist group Anonymous and was searching the topic on YouTube.  Drawn to their video’s ominous opening scores and their bold actions against corrupt corporations and governments, I kept searching for more of their video warnings and exploits.

That’s when I found the video titled, “Anonymous: Please Help !!!!”  Apparently a call to Anonymous to help the plight of the Syrian people.  The video opens with the words, “OPEN YOUR EYES“.  I complied and watched the video closely.  The sound of pain and sorrow clearly breaks any language barrier, you can hear their cries heighten as they realize the magnitude of his injuries and the hopelessness of the situation.

This was not fake Hollywood blood and guts, this was real and this was tragic.  This was a call to action, but to what action?  I want to do more than mow my lawn or watch the Grammy’s from my safe suburban America couch.

 

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