"Just a dog..."

JUST A DOG
From time to time, people tell me, "lighten up, it's just a dog," or, "that's a lot of money for just a dog." They don't understand the distance traveled, the time spent, or the costs involved for "just a dog."

Some of my proudest moments have come about with "just a dog."

Many hours have passed and my only company was "just a dog," but I did not once feel slighted.

Some of my saddest moments have been brought about by "just a dog," and in those days of darkness, the gentle touch of "just a dog" gave me comfort and reason to overcome the day.

If you, too, think it's "just a dog," then you will probably understand phrases like "just a friend," "just a sunrise," or "just a promise".

"Just a dog" brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust, and pure unbridled joy.

"Just a dog" brings out the compassion and patience that makes me a better person.

Because of "just a dog", I will rise early, take long walks and look longingly to the future. So for me and folks like me, it's not "just a dog" but an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future, the fond memories of the past, and the pure joy of the moment.

"Just a dog" brings out what's good in me and diverts my thoughts away from myself and the worries of the day.

I hope that someday they can understand that it's not "just a dog", but the thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being "just a man or woman."

So the next time you hear the phrase "just a dog", just smile -- because they "just don't understand."

-- Author Unknown

Forever Friends...

Remember me, as I once was,
Young, intrepid, and free.
Try to forget the wretched wreck
That is what has now become of me.

Life has slowly stripped away the flesh
That bound my bones much like a mesh
All that is left now is withered and dry
And SoulSongs has no more tears left to cry.

Halcyon days that nearly were
Passed by long ago, lost somewhere in a blur.
Oh why? My broken heart implores,
Why should I suffer this wretched life anymore?

Someday, if by chance your thoughts,
Lead you wandering through your memories long lost,
Make sure that the memories of your old friend
Show SoulSongs smiling and happy again.

Tuesday, December 30, 2003

Innocence and harmony long ago deserted me… and left behind this hollow shell.
Somewhere inside still, the soul exists… hidden far away from this endless living hell.

Copyright © 2001 – 2006 Soul♀Songs
All Rights Reserved.

Killer Angels....

I guess I'm just a real sucker for punishment, but I can't help myself... Really, I can't.

And it's not as though I haven't had enough tragedies in my own life, nothing could be further from the truth.

Maybe I am just like a big sponge – my karma, my destiny is to be here to be ravaged with pain and sorrow and blot it all up until the day I finally die. A funny mix of emotion flows through me when I am told that we are only given what we can handle – who, I ask, is the decider of that? But then, maybe that is true too, because I DO know a lot of people who would have crumbled long ago if they had to endure even a tiny bit of what I have experienced.

Knowing my luck though, I'd probably come back as something ugly and reviled by most, like a cockroach or a big hairy black spider. Or maybe one of the multitude of unwanted, abused, and neglected living entities that have the horrible misfortune of being born at the wrong time, in the wrong place, the wrong gender, or maybe just being born at all. What a scary thought. Maybe it would be better to simply believe that when you die, you are dead. Period. No second coming, no unending attempts to come back so you can 'get it right' – whatever 'it' happens to be... Heaven or Hell, perpetuity of existence or obscurity – the combinations and permutations boggle my mind... not to mention that nobody really knows for sure anyway.

However, I digress...

Back to the subject at hand, I just happened to be reading one of my daughters “Chicken Soup for the Soul” books, specifically “Chicken Soup for the Cat and Dog Lover's Soul” Okay, I know, it was my own fault – I started her on those books, and after quite some time of ignoring her first one, she did read it, and she has been an avid fan of them since. And yeah, silly me, I read them too. And yeah, more times than not I end up blubbering and vowing that I will never read another story from any of them again! But I always do because I love real stories about real people and their lives, even if they do pull at my heart strings.

One story, titled “Killer Angels” was written by Dr. Marty Becker, D.V..M., who also happens to be one of the co-author's of that particular Chicken Soup for the Soul edition. It was long after I filled and refilled my bucket of tears over his story that I discovered jut how well known he actually was. I have no trouble understanding why he is so popular...

What drew me to this story was the parallel between between the experience he wrote about, and the fate of my three beloved, healthy young dogs who were not fortunate enough to encounter a vet who held the same morals and beliefs that Dr. Becker recounts learning and embracing soon after graduating, thanks to a Heinz-57 he encountered one day. His story, in part, is as follows:

I had just graduated from veterinary school, and I was volunteering at the local shelter in Twin Falls, Idaho. As I looked down at the dog napping in her run, I knew I was going to have to wake her up to put her “to sleep.” What a cruel euphemism.

She was a Heinz-57 mixed breed with no name, no home, no hope. She was horrifically malnourished, and her coat was a mass of mats and burrs.

In a way, she was lucky to be here. Found on the side of the road – like living garbage – she'd been left to die in a remote area of our country.

The kind rancher who found her brought her to the local shelter where she joined dozens of other cuties and uglies pressing against the front of the cages hoping to catch the eye of someone who had a heart and home big enough to give them another chance.

Problem was there were too many homeless pets and not enough homes. Day after day for a week the dog waited and waited, her still wagging tail marking the time.

But on this day, her time was up. No one had adopted her, like many in the shelter, the animals were too big, too small, too hairy, too young, too old. Without enough cages to hold all that came through our doors, we were prepared to end her life quickly and without suffering. “Better than starving to death in the country,” I said, finding little solace in the words.

I was inspired to enter this profession because of a deep love of animals. I had been highly trained and entrusted to save lives and prevent pain and suffering. Yet here I was about to end the life of this innocent creature. I hated this part of my job, but I had to do it. Choking back my emotions, I readied myself to perform the procedure for which I'd been trained.

I set her on the table, and she wiggled her gaunt frame with delight as I spoke some soothing words and patted her head. The tempo of her tail quickened as she looked up at my face.

Looking into her eyes, I saw total trust, unconditional love and absolute loyalty. I felt the cruel irony of what was taking place. God's precious creatures, embodying the kindest virtues on the planet, being killed for the crime of not being wanted. She held out her leg for me to inject and licked my hand. She was ready. I wasn't.

I collapsed onto the dog and held her tight as I bathed her with tears. Never, ever would I do a convenience euthanasia again. I'd euthanize a pet if it was suffering terribly, or had an incurable disease, but never again because of an uncaring owner's mere request...

Dr. Marty Becker, D.V.M.

If you have read my earlier posts you will have read about the cruel fate of Arch Angel, and her two fine five months old pups, Stan and Pinkie. Their only mistake was being free for about an hour and being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Their deaths still haunt me, even though it has almost been a year now. If not for a cruel, calculated decision of a town council who somehow deemed that I did not deserve the chance to rescue them from this cruel fate, they would still be here with me, or maybe in another loving home that would feel their undying love, loyalty, and trust. I can only imagine what those pups would be like now, but I well remember their Mom, and how very much she meant to me.

When I read Dr. Becker's story, and how G.H. had willingly extended her paw for that lethal injection, and licked his hand, I hurt even more, knowing how proudly Stan and Pinkie would have done the same for their murderer because they had been taught to 'give me five' when they were only a few weeks old, and were always thrilled to be rewarded for it with words and caresses...

How utterly, profoundly sad it is that a young woman, who must have had a deep love for animals to endure the years of training that she did so that she could graduate and set up shop and fulfill her, I would assume, life's ambition to be an animal doctor, would so coldly murder three beautiful, healthy dogs for a few bucks. She learned those skills and was supposed to use them to save lives, and prevent pain and suffering, as those who bring their beloved pets to her trust her to do. Why then would she unquestioningly choose money over her own ethics and morality? There is no way that anyone could have missed Angel's tattoo in her ear, or failed to notice the healthy gleam in their coats, even if they had been cruely caged for 4 days and forced to lay in their own muck.

You must have seen the love and trust in their eyes Melanie... how could you do this? Did it ever cross your mind that maybe you should do a little investigation of your own, especially when the appointment was booked days before you actually did that evil deed? How can you justify murdering my three beautiful German Shepherds without even a second thought? How do you sleep at night with all those ghosts haunting you for your misdeeds? How could you be so easily bought off and cruel? I don't think you learned THAT at vet college...

Requiem for Arch Angel, Stan, and Pinkie

R.I.P. June 30, 2005

Broken hearts, broken dreams
Haunt my days without thee.
If I could only once but see
Your wings and how you fly
Perhaps it would end my agony

And somehow ease the tragedy
Of how senselessly you died.

June 30, 2006

Forever in my heart...

Copyright©2000-2006 Soul♀Songs
All Rights Reserved.

Is it really....? Yes, it really is Mr. Jagger..

Attention! Inspection Time...

Okay, I'll eat your foot then... or somebody's...grrrr!

And in the End

I`m bone tired and weary the old man said,
And thoughts of death often run through my head.
My body betrays me yet more every day
I am ready to let the Lord or his friend take me away.

My wife is gone now, I'm alone with my vitriol,
After sixty years she loathed even letting me sit by her.
Jealousy, petty anger, bitterness, hurt and pain
Welled up... but I kept on hurting her right 'til the end.

Each breath was a torture, her last days filled with pain
But I would not let her go without having my final say.
It ended without a single word left between us,
But I had my say, there was nothing left to discuss.

Sometimes I think in my own wretched mind
That my actions were wrong, maybe I was too unkind.
But I am entitled to that, why the hell should I care?
I can still sit alone with my TV's, and just stare.

My daughter, that useless excuse of a person,
Who cares that she lives with poverty and persecution?
It's her fault, her choices, so why should I care?
After all, she got all the attention, even my share!

And the poem that she wrote
Started from my own little quote
A bigger man would likely have responded with accolades and praise
But when I see it I can feel my own hackles start to raise!

So here it is now, revised and rewritten,
Go ahead tell your story, even though I feel smitten!
At one time, a long, long, miserable lifetime ago,
These words might have mattered, maybe even touched my soul...

And maybe in some twisted, distorted kind of way

I do care at some level, just what she might say.

But what does it matter at this point in time?

So go ahead! Read it! At least she can rhyme...

Memories of good times from so long ago
My life's journey lead me places I never could have known.
A young man then, with a body so fine
Yes, sometimes I do wish I could turn back the time...

Reminders from back when my world was so young
My life was like a song that had yet to be sung,
The years marched on past, unrelenting and new
And with each passing year my experiences grew.

I learned of all manner of wondrous things
I remember so well when I bought my wife`s rings
Our commitment remained through the good and the bad
So many times though, I didn`t appreciate what I had.

Back then I returned from a war torn world
To the beauty who captured my heart with a twirl
That magic night, at a dance in Moose Jaw
When I first met my wife, how she made my heart soar!

Those wonderful years flew so rapidly past
Sometimes it was hard to tell one from the last
Two beautiful daughters the Lord sent to us
To cherish, and love, and teach how to trust.

From tiny wee babes then to full-grown women
Each choosing their own paths to lead them to Heaven
More different than same, each unique in their ways
Each had their own place in my life, through all of their days.

Four score have passed like leaves blown on the wind
My life I`ve lived righteously and rarely have sinned
Three score my wife and my own life entwined
The vows that we made once, forever will bind.

Heartbreak and triumph, sadness and glory
All played their parts as we`ve lived out our story
Now my bones ache, and my body grows weak
And soon I will find the release that I so badly seek.

For those few left behind who remember me still
This story I leave to them with the hope to instill

Undying love for their children and others who care...

All those things that were just too hard for me to share.

Revised Thursday, May 4, 2006

Copyright©2000-2006 Soul♀Songs
All Rights Reserved.

Saskatchewan... Where Have All the People Gone?

There has been a lot of talk recently on the declining population of Saskatchewan, despite it being somewhat of a land of promise... after all, we do have a fair amount of resources here, and lots of potential for making them useful and profitable. So why isn't that happening? Why are our young people leaving in droves, especially to the land of promise and profit next door - Alberta.

There are no doubt a lot of reasons, but I have a few of my own...

Number one, I believe, is both what's good about this place, but at same time one of the worst things too. Saskatchewan is cheap. By that I mean that housing prices, general cost of living, etc. is way lower that it is anywhere west of here. By a huge amount.

Which leads me to my first supposition... I think that it may actually be that the few people who do come here, come here for just that reason. I don't think you will find too many well-heeled individuals moving here, because they can AFFORD to be somewhere else, and why, I must ask, with the higher taxes and lower incentives from this government would anyone risk (and there is always a degree of risk, no matter what business you may be thinking of starting) would anyone come here and try to make a go of it, even if they did have money to burn... A fool and his money is soon enough parted, so why set yourself up here when you know you will encounter higher cost just to get your business up and keep it going?

One thing that must be considered is whether you will not only recover the expense of setting up your business, but also whether you will have the client base to support it on an ongoing basis.

Now, knowing that there are a whole lot of people struggling just to make it month to month here already, what chance is there that they will frequent and support your establishment, enough to make it wildly profitable and successful?

If you are planning to start something that falls into the realm of neccessities (i.e. groceries, gas, clothing, etc), you are likely going to face discrimination if you are not 'one of the Sask natives', who is fortunate enough to have still have family here that will help you to promote your endeavor. Unless you are the epitomy of charm with a whole lot of charisma, you might as well forget it. Yes, you will get the gawkers who come in to check you out, tut tut over whatever you are offering, but who will walk right out again and go to 'Fred's store' down the street where they have always done their business, and likely alway's will... that is unless you are prepared to lose even more by making you prices sooo low on some things that they just can't resist... but they will clean you out of those items, and then still go to Fred's for their main shopping needs.

Yes, there are those who believe people should be coming here in droves, but I think those are the same people who are already here, established in a decent job, and who don't have a realistic
perspective on what newcomer's face when they try to set up shop in this "land of promise", where people are leaving in droves and will continue to do so until radical changes are made to the way this province works.

SS

Our 'Porky' PM

Recently, CJME 980 AM posted an online poll asking whether Steven Harper, our new PM should set an example for all us peons by undertaking to lose some weight and get in shape, or whether he should be able to carry on as he likes... the poll resounding voted that we should just let him be. After all, who are we to tell anyone what they should or shouldn't do?

Well, as usual I gave this some serious thought, and then voted accordingly...

So here is how I rationalized my voting choice...

I voted that he SHOULD set an example, and my reasons for that are as follows.

We have recently heard a lot of talk about making people pay more and be responsible for their life choices (or not exactly choices, addictions that I guess usually began as 'choices') such as obesity, smoking, drinking, lack of exercise, etc., which can lead to higher health care costs, and therefore they should either:

a.) be denied service (ie. the fellow down east whose surgeon refused him vascular surgery because he smoked)

b.) be forced to pay their own health care costs, or higher health care premiums

or

c.) comply with the 'accepted standards' ie, no smoking, no drinking, heart healthy eating, exercise... in short, for some, a complete 'makeover' of their lives...

So, if they are actually contemplating making these changes, it only makes sense to me that our leaders 'set the example' for us peons to follow....

Take Ralph Klein, as an example... who is supposed to be leaving soon (I hope - he is SUCH a BUFFOON!)

How he managed to be so cruel to those homeless people (at Christmas! no less!) and then was 'excused' because he was DRUNK, is way beyond my ken..

and then made a BIG DEAL about how he was quitting his alcohol habit, and never did...

Yeah, our great leaders SHOULD set the example, or just shut up, leave us alone, and quit threatening us because we aren't "perfect".

Neither are they.

Just my thoughts for the day...

SoulSongs

Oh Mr. Charles Adler, how could you do this to me....

A while ago, Charles Adler (AdlerNation) Talk show host, read a heart wrenching story, written from a dogs perspective, and it is as follows:

HOW COULD YOU? A Dog's Story

When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh.You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend.

Whenever I was "bad,"you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" - but then you'd relent, and roll me over for a belly rub.

My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs," you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.

She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" - still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy.

Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love."

As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch- because your touch was now so infrequent - and I would have defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.

There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog" and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.

Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.

I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a goodbye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You have a deadline to meet and now I have one, too.

After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you - that you had changed your mind - that this was all a bad dream... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.

I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days.

As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?" Perhaps because she understood my dog speak, she said "I'm so sorry. "She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself - a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place.

And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

Adler on Line. now heard on 11 stations acrossCORUS..www.charlesadler.com

==================================================================
There, there now, take a bunch of deep breath's, dry your eyes, it will be alright... I promise...

So, with that said, and keeping in mind that this blog is being written by someone who's heart is wide open to animals, in fact any living creature, and who would do anything I could to end all suffering for them, if only I could, read on, this was again from Charles Adler.

Last week, I was again getting my daily 'dose' of his program when I heard him talking about animals again, only this time it was about a horse who had reached the end of his days and needed to be put down... and it was about neighbours, the old fashioned kind of neighbours that seem to be a dying breed now... remember that time, not so long ago, when it was just a given that you could call on your neighbours to lend a hand when you really needed them? And yes, you KNEW, unequivicably, that they would be there for you... I remember those days, but the memory seems to be fading fast now.

Don't ask me why, because I have no answers for you, but it just seems to me that those good old fashioned kind of 'neighbour's' who would gladly give you the shirt off their back, and you in return would do the same, are a dying breed...

Now it seems that the 'neighbourly thing to do' is to call the police for any slight infraction, sue, turn their backs on those in need, or those who don't quite measure up somehow to your ''standard's', whatever those lofty ideals may be... and God forbid ever considering lending a helping hand, no matter how little effort it might be, and how much help,nd freindship it would show...

Like I said, I don't understand it, anymore than I can understand someone deserting your lifelong, loyal partner like was depicted in "How Could You?"

The story of the horse prompted me to write this email to Charles Adler, which he in turn read on the air. I went like this:

Charles,

As a completely dedicated and faithful member of the AdlerNation, including listening to your show twice daily on CJME, AND the reruns on the weekends, I can't believe you would do this to me!! As you say about politics - YOUR SHOW is my 'smack' and I NEED it!

So there I was, minding my own business this afternoon, getting dressed to go out and tend to my daily affairs... FOR ONCE (in what feels like a millions years) I had dammed the flow of all too ready tears (I could probably have filled an ocean in the last couple of years - single-handed) and I was feeling really good (well, pretty good, considering) that for once, I would be going out to face the world with no red rimmed eyes from my unrelenting sorrows, no red nose from being wiped all too often... you get the drift..

THEN - YOU CROSSED THE LINE!!! BIG TIME!

How could you do that to me Charles? Where is your heart?

As I am almost ready to leave the house, you started telling the story about the horse, and about neighbours, and.... I think I made it until they phoned their neighbour to come over and do the deed.... try as I might, it was too late - the rivers began to flow, as I sat there spellbound and listened to the whole story! How could you???

I had to put my beautiful mare down about three years ago, and all THOSE memories came flooding back. To make it all that much worse, my own Mom died the following day, so you can imagine the depth of those memories, and the pain they evoked...

And the neighbour part... That hurt for a whole different reason, because I have not had a 'decent' neighbour for years... I used to have great neighbours, ya know, they'd make cookies and bring over a batch for me and the kids, and I'd trade them some of my famous (yes, it really was famous, it was in DEMAND, until I got tendinitis so bad that now I can't make it even for myself) homemade sourdough bread, or some buns...

And in the spring, without even being asked, Mr. Scott would be over at my place with his
rototiller in my garden just as soon as he was done doing his, and all summer we would trade produce and pointers over the fence....

Charles - how could you do that to me? First the dog story, now the horse story... *** sigh***

Forgive me my transgressions... I really do love your program, it is my 'smack' and please keep those wonderful, heart-wrenching stories coming. So what if I had to face the shopkeepers with red rimmed eyes again? Nothing new there...

My one hope, is that some of those (evil) uncaring animal hater's out there will be touched by one of these stories just enough to maybe soften their cold cold hearts, even a tiny bit...

Thanks, and take care!
===================================================================

I have to wonder how many of you out there have similar feeling, and experiences? I really don't think this is something that is just unique to me, and I'd love to get your feedback on this, so drop me a line...

SoulSongs

Paul Martin - The price you paid for trying to do 'the right thing'

Paul Martin has finally given up the ghost and made his retreat from politics official... was this the 'politically correct' (no pun intended) amount of time to wait before the big announcement?

Yes Paul, we do appreciate your honesty for digging into that horrible scandal that cost us taxpayer's so dearly - not to mention the cost of the inquiry, with it really luke warm outcome...

Thanks.

And I would really like to know if you actually thought you had a fighting chance of being re-elected - really I would... I must admit those scare ads about Steven Harper WERE pretty amusing, even if you didn't know about them, or authorize them... and yeah, I admit they did have an element of truth to them, especially considering some of the good friends that he has around Caroline and Longview in Alberta... but really! SOLDIERS... MEN WITH GUNS... IN OUR STREETS... IN CANADA.. Give us a break!

Paul, I figure you'll be missed a lot less than say, Peter Warren, a man of GREAT INTEGRITY who ACTUALLY DID speak to the nation - AND listen to them, AND cared enough to try to make good things happen for them...

Yeah, not just a figurehead, or a talking head, or whatever you politicians want to call yourselves. Sorry, but I believe you guys only care about yourselves, and the only reason we peons matter at all is because when you add enough of us together in the polls, you win. Period. After that, we don't matter until the next time... unless maybe some of us are vocal enough, famous enough, or yeah, sometimes even pathetic enough, to make you notice and take on our cause...

So Goodbye Paul!

Enjoy your perks and your pensions - our treat! (like we could do anything about them anyway.)

And hey! Maybe in a few years you can go and make the 'talk circuit' like good old Bill Clinton recently brought to our forgotten little province (well, forgotten during the last campaign, anyway) of Saskatchewan.

SoulSongs

Peter Warren... Where have you gone?

Saturday, March 11, 2006

Ah Peter... Where have you gone?

It's Saturday, but there is something missing...

For years one of the high points of my weekends was listening to the Peter Warren Show - no matter where I was... and now he's gone.

Last weekend was the end of decades of broadcasting for Peter, and his loss is going to leave a huge gap in the hearts of many of his long time loyal listeners hearts, including mine.He is a prince - a powerful voice against injustice, a no-nonsense investigator whose tenacious and unrelenting grip on controversial topics that many others would not dare to tackle, has managed to eventually bring about the justice so deserved. He is a pitbull for the truth, never letting go until he got to the bottom of the issues and exposes the truth... no matter how disturbing, or how gritty it may be.

And now he's gone from the airwaves. I just hope he is not gone for good.

Even while I am lamenting his loss, I have to chide myself a bit for being so selfish.

Peter may be off the air, but he will still be 'out there', still fighting to make sure that wrongs are made right, still advocating for the 'underdogs', the 'put upon', the wrongly accused...

I guess maybe I'm a wee bit jealous. I was okay with sharing him with the multitudes, listening intently to his insightful, probing discussions, applauding him when he called a spade a spade, or feeling the empathy he exuded toward victims of horrific crimes, his outrage at the injustices that 'Joe Public' are subjected to...

God I'll miss you Peter!

I just have to believe that he will keep us posted from time to time about what he's up to, and keep us abreast of the various wrong's he will continue to right.

God Bless you Peter!

You are my hero!

SoulSongs

Tragic Death's - Three Beautiful German Shepherds

An exhausted Angel with some of her newly born sweet brood

I am preparing my defence for the senseless murder of Arch Angel, aka Mi Amor Vom Bountyful, and her 2 beautiful, exceptionally perfect 5 month old pups, Stan, a pure black male who just prior to his death was already 2 inches taller at his withers than his dad and supernaturally intelligent, and Pinkie, an equally exceptional black and silver female pup, so named because she was the first born, and her poor little nose took a lot a battering before it drew it's first breath...

This has been plaguing me since Sunday morning, June 26, 2005, the day they mysteriously escaped from my house and began their 4 day incarceration, in a kennel in the town shop (that somehow neither the town administrator, nor the mayor, nor virtually every other resident in town knew anything about...) until they were executed at 4:00 PM, Thursay, July 1, 2005. It should also be noted that the vet who performed the executions, (and then froze those beautiful, healthy young bodies until the bylaw officer came and picked them up to bury them in the town dump, which was supposedly the most 'cost effective' solution), had also claimed ignorance about any knowledge of a pound or kennel in town... As did the RCMP, I might add.

Now I freely admit that I am not up on the intricacies of municipal bylaws, but I think I know enough to read one, and get the general drift... The reason that I bring this up is that after the fact, when I discovered (too late to save their lives) what had happened to them, I asked the RCMP to lay charges because there can be no doubt that they KNEW whose dogs they were, but for whatever reason, they chose to deny the owner the right to claim them, despite the fact that Angel was licenced with the town, she was micro-chipped, and she had a very visible tattoo in her left ear...

So, a full description of the events that had taken place was forwarded on to the local constabulatory, investigations were done, and in the end, the Crown Prosecutor was asked for his opinion about laying charges.. His response was that the town had done nothing wrong, there was nothing in the bylaw that said they HAD to notify someone that they had their pets, and so the matter was dropped.

As I said earlier, I am the first to admit that I am no authority on bylaws, but humor me for a minute here... From what I read in that bylaw, it says, and excuse my extreme 'ball-parking' here, but this is my take on it:

---> IF you have an animal that escapes, it is 'running at large';
---> IF your animal is 'running at large', you are guilty of an infraction of the bylaw;
--->IF you are guilty of an infraction of a bylaw, you are to be served a "Notice of Violation" Form "A", which lets you know they have you animal, and what penalty, (i.e. fine, etc.) you have cough up to bail your animal out;
---> So now the ball is your court, pay up, and get them back, or don't;
---> End of story.

Somehow, however, this particular Crown Prosecutor somehow read into that pretty straighforward bylaw that the town could 'decide', or somehow had the right to 'choose' if, or who, they were going to, or not going to tell... Going on his summation of that bylaw, he deemed that the town had done nothing wrong, and therefore their actions (or lack thereof) were perfectly acceptable, and no charges would be forthcoming.

Town policy, I later learned, was to a have a picture of each animal that was registed, and licenced in town. I think the way they procured these pictures was by skulking around town, and catching these lawful animal residents unawares while they carried on with their normal lives..

Now this a matter of speculation, because there does not seem to be any reason for this ommission, but somehow, there WERE NO pictures on file of Angel.. If my opinion means anything, I believe they had no picture of her, because she was never out long enough for them to take a picture of her.

As anyone who has owned a German Shepherd knows, these dogs are so utterly devoted and attached to their masters that they are most commonly (and at times, inconveniently) found under or next to their masters feet... Angel was no different, she was always happiest when she had at least a toe nail, or a few wisps of her tail touching her object of loyalty and devotion... That is my best guess why she escaped the camera lens...

So, I am asking you for your opinions. I hope you leave me your comments, and lots of them, because I am REALLY curious about what the common consensus is about this... Please let me know - maybe this can even lead to a lively debate... I hope so..

Until the next time!

SS

In case you are wondering...

In case you are thinking to yourself - Is that THE SoulSongs from Saskatchewan? Well, I am here to tell you that it is me, really! The one and only! So that should take a load off your mind... right? Good.

So I just wanted to get this thing started, and tell you a bit of what I am about, and why I wanted to have MY VERY OWN BLOG (ewww I am SO excited!)

PINKIE - ALMOST 2 MONTHS OLD

First of all, I have a lot to say. That is probably the biggest reason for this blog.

Secondly, I believe I have a lot to offer, and I intend to do that in a down to earth, straight from the heart, opinionated way. (Well... who isn't opinionated, I ask?) Now that does not mean that I am single-minded or closed-minded or bigoted... hell no! I love a good debate, and if you can give me better reasons, or other idea's I am more than willing to try them on for size, and adopt them, if they are a better fit that mine - so fire away!

Thirdly, (that word looks really wrong somehow) I have a lot of things I am really passionate about, including, but not limited to: Dogs, (especially German Shepherds, like Pinkie in the picture up there), cats, (especially Egyptian Maus), horses, cows, goats, sheep, and llama's (except I really don't know any llama's... hmmm).

Oh and fish - how could I forget my fish, and no, I don't mean the kind you eat (the idea of fishing really grosses me out, to tell you the truth) but fish like Oscars, Convicts, Jewels, guppies (even though they do eat their own young... come to think of it I had a cat that did that too.), 'newcomers' (don't ask me, the name just stuck - I think they are really Green Terrors) loaches, yeah, I think you get the drift...

Oh, and Plants! I was so fortunate to inherit my green thumb from my Mom - yes, I have an awful lot to be thankful to her for :-) Love ya Mom, whereever you are!

I have had some pretty weird types of plants bloom for me too - like jade plants, and ivy's - ugly ugly flowers, but ya gotta love them for putting out that kinda effort for me :-) I strongly believe in the 'torture' method of raising plants - that's right, I'm admitting it here for all the world to see... nothing like muttering the odd threat now and then to them when they are getting out of line - my favorite is as I am walking by, just casually saying something like, "Hmm, maybe it's time to CUT YOU DOWN TO YOUR ROOTS - hehehee... or maybe telling that hoya that keeps insisting that it wants to have only one REALLY LONG branch, instead of sending out some youngun's - "yes, I think it's time to chop that branch into about 16 peices and root them" - never fails, next time you look you will find a nice batch of new growth shooting out all over... yeah, the torture method all the way - works like a charm!

So, there's your teaser... I'll be back with more later!

SS