Mo's happy ending

After two years at the shelter, and a lot of love and work, Mo finally got adopted yesterday by one of the volunteers at DAWG, the animal shelter  where I also enjoy the privilege of taking walks in the desert with some of the four-legged residents and enjoying their soothing company. It was a happy ending for a poor fellow who just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, doing what pit bulls do so well, fighting to the finish.

A few years ago Mo and Joe found themselves in some serious trouble but, thanks to a network of compassionate people, neither were put down. Instead Joe went to the Reno shelter and Mo lived at the no-kill shelter here. Ironically, most people in America who make mistakes end up in the human "justice" system that humiliates, undermines and better prepares them for more of the same. By their release, many are more desperate and angry than when they came in. Not so for Mo. DAWG volunteers and trainers help animals change their attitude and outlook for the better so Sunday, after a big farewell party at the shelter, Mo began his new life with people who love and know how to provide a safe, sane environment for a pit. For the better part of two years, volunteers simply sat in Mo's cage and read out loud to him. In the beginning, he ran outside as huddled at the far end of his run but the reader kept reading. No one tried to touch him. No one raised their voice to him. They read as Mo huddled and gradually he shortened the distance until, finally, he stood listening at the door. And still the reading went on, with an occasional, "Hello, Mo. Whose a good boy?"

It was a long time yet before Mo would let anyone touch him but finally he did and those few people were finally able to take him for walks in the yard. And so it went. Love and patience won. Today, Mo went home with his new family to his new, forever home.

It seemed to me that Mo was more eager to get out the door and on with it than party, but we humans are a sentimental lot. People that worked with him over the last two years needed "closure" so Mo dutifully sniffed his gifts and pretended to be interested as his humans opened them for him. And he gulped a few treats while people laughed and downed cup cakes and ice cream. Then, finally, Mo when home.






This morning, Mo's family emailed everyone photos from the party and a detailed account of his first day. If you aren't already saturated with cloying sweetness, give it a read. Sounds like Mo is one grateful, happy pooch.

Saying good-bye to the girl at the front desk

Letter from Mo and Family.

Just wanted to thank everyone that came today for Mo's send off and also anyone that wasn't able to attend that has love in their heart for him. I was overwhelmed with all the gifts. Mo and all of us thank you soooooo much. He has been so good. He had his nose right up to the air conditioner almost the whole trip home. (I think he prefers my Honda to ride in as it's easier for him to see out of.) As soon as I got him home Ron's youngest son, Jake and I got him into the shower and started to get him clean. He was being very good so I ran to get the camera and when I got back there was water all over the floor and there he was wagging his tail so hard against the wall that the tip of his tail was bleeding a little. We got him back in and rinsed off. Jake walked him around for awhile then I got him and we laid on the floor together for awhile (of course with all kinds of kisses from him) I think I'll have to invest in a plug in air freshener as he is very prone to gas. He paid little attention to the birds so maybe when we are home he can be in the living room with them (as long as they are in their cages as I don't want to take a chance). Then Mo spent some time in his pen with Ron working on the doggie door. I went out to take him for a pottie break and he didn't want to stay out long and dragged me back inside the house. I had him on the leash and sat on the couch and he jumped up and was rubbing on the couch putting his nose between the cushions and had a great big grin on his face. Ron sat down and Mo went back and forth between us almost standing on his head at times he was being so crazy and happy. Then all at once he stopped and immediately fell asleep. He kept hogging all the couch so I finally sat on the floor. He looked so happy and contented. Well that's it for now. It was such a great day. Thanks again. Nancy

Rupert Murdoch freaks out

Usually things that are too good to be true are too good to be true. I really hope this one beats the odds. Could it be? If so, the guys at Manhattan Media offer us a truly rare peek into the dragon's lair.


Murdoch freaks out


00:40

The Huffpo article claims it's a fake Murdoch in the video but the guy looks like Murdoch to me. My take is that "My Wall Street Journal" is a Murdoch publication. Otherwise, why the black set? And isn't it interesting that Murdoch "just happens" to position the paper perfectly for the camera to pick up? Also, it seems to me that the sound quality is too good for a cell phone with which, I assume, this "secret" video was captured. And the guy recording it? Wouldn't he be at the bottom of the river instead posting his catch on YouTube? Now, I feel like a chump for even publishing this the stupid thing but what the hell? It's Monday. So what do you think? Real or fake?

HIPPIES

Tonopah in the spring.


Here are a few more photos from my stay in Tonopah last weekend. I have to do this on the fly so will post more later, for the record. I realize that you are all wondering what's new in Tonopah, the town that is rotting in the sun, blowing away in the wind. I will tell you...

HIPPIES of Tonopah

The note in the window reads, "HIPPIE: I waited for 1 1/2 hrs to pick up my cigarettes. You can't make any money if your closed. Ken". Right. I bet Ken wanted to buy "cigarettes". Hippie never did show up but I pressed my camera to the glass and got photos of what's inside.










HIPPIES of Tonopah, town's newest boutique


01:51


I hope HIPPIES is open the next time we blow through town. I'd like to get a better peek inside plus I'd like to meet the guy but more likely he will already be out of business.

Lunch among the crows

Before I post more from Tonopah, here's a new clip from the Bird Park. The crow prefers to eat from a dish, in a civilized manner, but he is not too sure about the other guy.

Lunch among crows

01:14

Birthday blues

My sister emailed this photo today of our Dad and Mom on his 56th birthday. She's good like that. My brother wrote back that Dad's big round head make him think of Charlie Brown. He was a Charlie Brown, not only in looks but personality though, prompted by my Norwegian pride, I must add... HARD WORKER. A Charlie Brown who made it work anyway. And a good Dad. Andy. Note the giant hands. First generation from Norway. North Dakota homestead raised. Sixth grade education. Quit during plowing time that year. Too much work to ever go back. Married. Loved her big tits. She always said she married him for his dimple. Migrated to Seattle. Steel business. Worked his way up from shipyard welder to plant owner. Raged against slick and sleazy business partners. "Too honest", he would complain. Proved you can't take the country out of the boy. Today would be his 97th, had he lived. Not unreasonable, given that he came from a line of long-lived Norwegians. Grandma made it to 98.

Like my sister wrote, they were so young. Looks like my mother has already enjoyed a birthday toast or two. Ironically, spread before him a feast made up of things that called his early death ... a cube of butter, a platter of flesh, a brimming glass of whole milk and a luscious fat-filled sugary cake. Not pictured: cigarettes and booze. Not included: regular exercise. If only they knew then what we know now, they might both be alive to celebrate this day with us.

Nim Chimpsky

Here is a sad story about a chimp named Nim who, for a brief bright time in his too short life, lived like a boy. I wish this post were an April Fool's joke, but it's not.

Nim Chimpsky

Nim after the funding ran out.

“Humanity's true moral test, its fundamental test, consists of its attitude toward those who are at its mercy: animals. And in this respect, human kind has suffered a fundamental debacle, a debacle so fundamental that all others stem from it.” ~Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Central America

As some of you missed an earlier post on the subject, thought I'd mention again that we had to postpone our trip to Central America, this after we purchased the airline tickets. The reason is that over the last year and a half, M. Lee has been laying the groundwork for a business proposal and, naturally, his lawyers just informed him that, at this point, he has to be available should his presence be required in court. He could have postponed the proceedings until after the trip but then we'd be in its shadow the whole time. This way, either way, it's done and we can go celebrate or lick our wounds. So it goes. We're hoping to go in the fall, i.e. hurricane season instead of malaria season.

But we are trying out our new backpacks this weekend. Just a short trip to Oregon. However, I will be forced to cheat because I must bring the laptop, a luxury that will be denied me when we go south. One should not rush austerity.