A postal employee shot and killed five co-workers, then turned the gun on herself--six dead. A man allowed a dog he had adopted at a shelter to starve to death. Both headlines upset me, but the the latter is the one haunting me. Yes, I work for the Postal Service, but I grieve more for a dog than I do for six people. Why? Because, as I've mentioned before, I prefer animals to people.

I'm sorry of I offend anyone. Of course, I felt terrible for Nixzmary, the poor little girl tortured and murdered by her parents a couple of weeks ago. I feel sorry for all children who die dreadful, needless deaths. Nixzmary should have been protected by SOMEONE in her world, but everyone--relatives, agencies, her school--dropped the ball.

That dog died by starvation. Adopted by this man as a gift for his daughter, it was penned up, starved, given no water. I think of that poor, helpless creature being consumed by its own body, slowly, in agony. Did anyone try to come to its aid? Why didn't anyone intervene until the poor thing was already dead?

Crime and punishment:

Let this man, this dog-killer, be starved to death, too. Let him know how it feels to have the outside of his body be eaten by his insides, desperately searching for nourishment, for water, for any sustenance to stay alive.

Let Nixzmary's parents, child-murderers, be starved and tortured to death, as their daughter was. Let them feel pain ripping through their bodies, blood pouring from their wounds.

I feel so sick inside. I want to cry in rage at people who do not revere life in any of its forms, who toss it away without care or love.

I don't have the entire story, yet, on what happened at that California postal facility. I've worked for the USPS for 26 years, and while I've felt frustrated and angry at times, I've never wanted to kill. One has to ask: Does the Postal Service create killers, or just bring out killing instincts in already-unstable individuals?

Don't tell me it's cruel to treat these killers as they have treated others. I don't agree. An eye for an eye might just make others think before repeating such crimes.

I can only hope.

I've been married to Dan for 27 years. For as long as I've known him, two things have been evident--he expects excellent customer service and his nickname is "Coupon King."

We use coupons as often as possible. If I suggest a restaurant, he'll ask, "Do we have a coupon?", and if the answer is no, even if that meal will cost 99 cents, he still hesitates about going there. He prefers free food, as in buy one get one free, or just walk in and get a freebie.

We recently purchased a laptop computer for our son for his college graduation, birthday (the next several), Groundhog Day, Memorial Day, July 4th present (it was quite expensive). Armed with every possible bell and whistle, he was promised half a dozen rebates with those very expensive purchases. The instructions for GETTING those rebates were as complex as the US Constitution with all addendums, and I now know exactly why--THEY DON'T WANT TO SEND YOU THE DAMN REBATES!!

First, they claim the US Postal Service didn't get these rebate forms to them (unwise, since I work for the PO and know friggin' well we don't lose as much mail as everyone gives us credit for). Little do they know that Dan keeps copies of EVERYTHING, so he can send it all again, with tracking and return receipt requested, just so they can't claim not to have received it again! Then, however, they insist Dan didn't order his item from "the proper web site." Given that no web site was indicated on any of the paperwork, this excuse doesn't hold up, either! Time will go by, no check will be forthcoming, and Dan will call. . .and call. . .and call. He will speak to peons, and when they yammer away about incorrect web sites and postal errors, Dan will demand supervisors. . .higher up supervisors. . .managers. . .company presidents. . .George Bush himself. . .

Because, you see, my husband is relentless, and when he believes he is being screwed over, he gets angry, and he will not give up his quest to get his rebate, whether it is a dollar, 10 dollars or 60 dollars. So, if any of you folks from Toshiba are reading this, you have been warned--Dan will NOT stop until you are a blubbering mass of humanity. Give him his rebate check, now. It will be so much easier on all of us.

Now that I've gotten that out of the way, I have something else to tell you about Dan--his poop kills toilets. Not only that, he's PROUD that his poop kills toilets. He likes to stuff up plumbing, stink up bathrooms, turn strange bathrooms into toxic dump sites. It's frightening. But I'm saving that scary tale for another entry. Get your clothespins and gather 'round.

Love, Robin

Yesterday, Dan and I went to the Bide-a-Wee Animal Shelter in Wantagh for a volunteer's seminar. They need people to greet, walk, interact, and act as liaison between humans and dogs and cats. I was hoping to be able to bring the more docile of my dogs, Snapple, to visit the elderly or kids with disabilities, but the kindly lady expert said that, at 10, he was too old. I was disappointed; Snaps is such a people person, but he does tend to jump and bark when excited, and I didn't want him to give a heart attack to the old people or scare the kids.

Dan loves animals, too, but the presence of two shedding dogs (a greyhound rescue and a gorgeous golden who participates in a reading program) fired up his allergies, and he had to exit the proceedings halfway before they were over. I was especially fascinated by the programs that involves children who have difficulty reading; when they read aloud while stroking an avid-listening cat or dog, their reading abilities subtlely improve. But again, I'd have to use one of my own pets, and neither Bugsy nor Snaps was suitable. So, that leaves greeting interested adopters at the shelter (no hands-on with animals), which seems more appropriate for Dan, or dog-walking/ socializing. They start novices out with the easiest-to-walk dogs and work them up to the more difficult ones. You pledge two hours per week to volunteer, and I'm really looking forward to putting in my time. As I said in an earlier post, I prefer animals to people!

Today, Sunday, I took a four-hour nap. I simply couldn't stay awake. I wonder now if these lengthy weekend naps became necessary because of my anemia? I don't know. But since weekends are the only chance I get to enjoy myself, shop, and catch up on all the TV shows I've taped during the week, sleeping really bollixes up my time.

This morning, I started the day with nine pills! NINE! I used to laugh at my in-laws with their giant pill caddies, and now I have one of my own. What goes around DOES come around! Two for diabetes, one for pain, one for anemia, one for bones, two vitamins (multi and all B), an aspirin (81 mg.) and one for acid reflux. I take five more at dinnertime--two for diabetes, one for blood pressure, one for cholesterol, one for bones), then four at bedtime (two for depression and two for pain). Oh, and just to top it all off, a shot of insulin right before I hit the sheets. Yes, I've become my in-laws!



So I'm going to work with animals. I'm really looking forward to it. Dan predicts I'm going to fall in love with every dog I walk and want to adopt them. I know I won't be able to do that. At least my head will know. My heart might have an argument with my head. They can fight as hard as they want, because Bugsy would NEVER stand for another dog in this house!

Hope your weekend was a great one!

Love and kisses,
Robin

I'm anemic. Two words my doctor could have just told me over the phone, but I guess she either needed that 10 dollar co-pay or had to see my gorgeous face in person.

Actually, she wanted to touch base with me, ask about my periods, stuff like that. I have to return to taking iron pills for a while. She mentioned a terrible word to me--colonoscopy--a test I had four years ago and am shortly due for again. While the procedure itself isn't too bad, the prep--eating non-red foods and pretty much everything liquid, and drinking this horrible stuff that makes you shit out all your major organs--is, by far, one of the worst things I've ever had to do. They want you lying on the bathroom floor, moaning, until the only thing dribbling from your rectum is clear fluid. By that time, you feel as if your rectal tissues have been repeatedly rubbed with sandpaper of the finest grade, and ANYTHING touching you down there is sheer agony.

Colonoscopy? No, no, no. I'll just yank my colon from my butt, leave it for your perusal, then return later to have it replaced. THANK YOU!

I guess I'm heading into menopause. I haven't missed any periods, but they're becoming erratic. I used to get them every 25 days, faithfully, but now, I might get them every 35 days, then get another one in less than two weeks. My doctor says that's what's probably causing my anemia. I'm losing blood from somewhere, and that's the most obvious place.

So, I'm not dying, despite all my conjuring. Well, in truth, ALL of us are dying. Like my brother Steve likes to remind me, in THE WORLD ACCORDING TO GARP, we are all terminal.

And that's how I'm going to leave you on this gorgeous-looking Saturday. I have a tree guy coming this morning to give me an estimate on trimming back the jungle that my backyard has turned into. I fully expect to see Tarzan leaping from branch to branch, then landing on my roof. Hey, look at his loincloth, it's askew and I can see EVERYTHING! Nice package, Tarz!

(That's a dirty ol' lady conjure, folks.)

I'm sure anyone reading this realizes my reasons for writing it--the two latest news stories involving dogs and children. A little girl was mauled in a Bay Shore Petco store, requiring reattachment of her torn lip. That dog now awaits euthanasia while its owner awaits a lawsuit. A little girl was killed while playing tug 'o' war with her pooch--because the scarf they were tugging was wrapped around her throat and and the dog inadvertently choked her. That dog has been turned over to a shelter because the family can't bear to have the pet that accidentally killed their daughter around anymore. It's understandable, but so sad, so very depressing.

Even after eight training sessions, Bugsy, though less intent on biting my husband and son, is still blind, unpredictable and very wary of strangers. When children come bounding up to us and bend down to pet him, I always shout, "NO! You should never pet any strange dog without asking the owner if it's OK!" On one such occasion, while I was walking Snapple and Bugsy on their double leash, a little girl reached down to pet Bugsy. Realizing by his Elvishly-curled, snarling lip, he was just about to take a taste of her hand, I pulled him back. "Don't!" I cried. "He's blind and scared of people he doesn't know!" The little girl began to cry. Her angry mother darted out of her house and lit into me for scaring her daughter. I got right into her face and said, "Listen--I can already tell you're the kind of woman who would sue me if my dog bit your kid. I'm just trying to save both of us a lot of trouble. And your daughter HAS to realize that petting a strange dog without the owner's permission could be dangerous!" "You shouldn't be walking a DANGEROUS dog," sniffed the woman, and marched off, crying daughter in tow.

Bugsy is very protective, especially of me. My guess is that while he was being abused by men in his previous home or homes, he was also trying to prevent a woman in the same house from being abused, too. It's sad, and all I want is for Bugsy to feel safe and loved in our home. It's the least we can do for him.

Dogs and kids can be a volatile combination. Even the friendliest, sweetest dog can turn, depending on events. We already know the death of the girl via her golden retriever was an unfortunate accident. I feel for the parents, but I also feel for the dog, now sent away from the family he loved. He has no idea what he did wrong, why he was taken from his home, separated from his beloved family. As for the other incident, did the child at Petco do something the dog didn't like? Did she blow on his face, which some dogs despise? Did she accidentally hurt him somehow? If that dog is put to death, as planned, will he understand why?

I have a confession--I prefer animals to people, always have. For the most part, they are more loyal than humans, totally devoted and always appreciative of love and affection.

I just wish these terrible events hadn't happened, I really do. It sounds insane to say, but in my mind and heart, the dogs are victims here, too.