Trouble in Paradise

I got into an argument with my daughter this morning when I mentioned how high the cost of gas was going up. I mentioned a few thing I might be able to do to cut back on gas consumption. She was fine with that. Then I said “you know the gas going up won’t just affect the car but what we consume in Electricity.”

She hit the roof. “Don’t you think I know how much electricity has gone up? I pay the bill don’t I”?

I just thought maybe we could discuss ways to cut back on that too not meaning that she was ignorant of what was going on. I wonder how many households are playing out this exact same scenario? I hear people complain about immigrants who can collect social security and yet never have paid into it. Complaints about gas going up and worried about how to get to work and yet the bus system does not improve. Instead a billion dollar transit system is being proposed that will not help one bit. On and on it goes but nothing gets done. Why can’t we have more access to voting on these things instead of letting the politicians do it? Maybe the same way that they do in Switzerland.

The ancient Hawaiians believed that their Alii were in touch with the gods. If they had a good relationship with the gods then the Alii would prosper and hence the common man under him would prosper too. But if things went wrong they could remove the Alii because obviously he was not doing the right thing.

I think that is what we should be able to do. Of course that is a bit over simplified it was a much, much more complicated system then that just stated and we know that our leaders have nothing to do with any thing in the heavens. But the way things are going maybe there is a good argument that our leaders are a little closer to hell. Perhaps what we need is an exorcism of the government. Hey maybe the Rev. Wright might want to take on the job?

A good night's sleep

Max is still insisting that I am one of his pack. Not the leader but one of his pals. He follows me everywhere and leaps on me at night when I go to sleep. Chris has taken to tying him up in her room at night in hopes that I can sleep with out interference from him.

To add to that nights sleep, I finely bought a double bed. I could not stand sleeping in the dip of my hard, twin mattress another day. My neck was so stiff and I woke up sore every morning.

The only problem is, Papoki, the blind Cat. (This is my daughters cat but since she brought Todd into the house Papoki chooses to sleep with me.) Poor me. On the first night that I got the bed Papoki could not figure out how to get on to it as it is higher then the old one. She was scratching on all the furniture trying to get her bearings. This she would do in the middle of the night. So I would have to get off the bed and put her on to it and then she would sleep a few minutes get down go and eat then walk around in the hall then come back and start all over with the scratching. Because she likes to walk around in the hall in the middle of the night I can't close my bedroom door or she will then scratch on it endlessly until I get up to let her in.

After I finely got her settled in, the other cat, Todd who is on a diet, came into my room and started eating papoki's food. I then had to get up and take it away, get into bed, and then Todd hopped up on my computer desk on to the keyboard and then to the sill to look out my window. After I had finely fallen asleep she then hopped on my bed with a thump and woke me. She and Papoki then stared each other down and growled, at which time I had to take Todd out, dump her back into my daughters room, and finely to sleep.

Next thing I know I hear a thump on my computer chair, Todd is on it, directly across from my bed staring at Papoki. Now Papoki can't see her and so she is sleeping but I'm quite awake waiting for Todd to fling herself on to the bed. But I am so tired I finely fall asleep. At 4 in the morning! Finely it's time to get up and I awake with Todd at my feet and Papoki in my face.

That morning Chris was anxious to hear how I slept on my new bed. Did I get a good nights sleep? Well, my neck didn't hurt. For all of the action that that has taken place in my room each night since, I might as well have saved my money and just slept on the couch down stairs because my room is going to the cat's.

Poor Max, might as well let him loose too who knows maybe he can chase the two out and then I will only have to contend with him. Maybe I can get used to his tongue sluping up my cheek and his taking over the bed. At least at some point he settles down and goes to sleep.

Lately I have been feeling, (and I do love animals that's for sure,) lets just give them all away! No more fur full of water dripping on my clean clothes after Max takes a long drink, no scratching at all points of the room in the middle of the night, no fat Todd cheating on her diet in my room or clawing my new bed spread and picking on Papoki because she is model thin, no worrying about Sam, Rachel's cat, as he sits in Rachel's room waiting for her to come home. And best of all no cleaning up cat litter!!!

I shouldn't be so hasty though, who knows how I will feel after a good night's sleep.

In His Masters Secret Service

I’ve had pets all of my life. My first dog was George. He was a medium size mixed terrier. Dad said he was in the K-9 Core and was named after King George of England.

Oh, I was so proud of that. I told everyone on the block and in school. (He always walked me to School and picked me up.) He was a very smart dog to be sure and was my protector for 16 years.

Now that I’m an adult, I think back to the many things my dad told me, I wonder if George was just some dog dad found and tried to glamorize him to me. He fabricated a lot of stories for my entertainment and this could have been one of them.

George would have been 1 year old in 1945 when I was born. This was the year he came into my life. Maybe he had been considered for training just before the war ended. Well that would be what I would like to think anyway.

One thing I do know, when I was around 6 George bit the Mail Man.

One afternoon as I happily arrived home, probably after fighting with someone, I noticed George being put into the back of a truck. I ran up to my father to ask him what was going on. He told me that George was going to my Uncle’s house for a while because the Mailman wanted to have George put to sleep. My dad was going to fight it and George was going to go to court so he had to stay somewhere until the case was decided.

I did not see George Bite the mailman, I don’t remember what kind of truck it was that took him away but I do remember him going.

Time passed and Dad told me that George had had his day in court. He then went on to tell me about the trial. He said the News Paper even covered the trial.

When the mailman accused George of being a vicious dog it seems everyone came out of the woodwork to defend George’s honor. The neighbor down the street (the young married couple who baked me my very own cookies for Christmas) told about how George would come over and dig up all of these holes in his lawn. This caused him quite a bit of consternation until one day when George was digging away and the neighbor was about to chase him away George backed out of the hole with a dead gopher in his mouth. From that day on the neighbor could not do enough for George. He even bought him his own box of Kibbles dog treats.

Another woman, whom we did not know, came to plead for George. It seemed that George was leading a double life. This lady worked until midnight at which time she had to take the bus home. When she arrived at her stop, there was George waiting for her in the middle of the night, ready to walk her home. She did not know what she would do if he were to be put to sleep.

You have to remember that there was no leash law at this time and George slept on the front porch, so who knows what he did with his nights.

Last but not least, someone testified that they had seen the mailman hit George with his mailbag for no reason at all. I guess that was the clincher.

Next thing I knew there was our little 007 sitting on the front porch waiting for me. Mission accomplished.

This is what I do know. George went away in a truck. George did dig up gophers in the neighbors yard and George came back after
many days, to stay, and the mailman didn’t.

But did he stay with my Uncle? My uncle says “No!” Did he go to court? No one remembers but me and since those of my immediate family are dead, I can’t ask them about it.

Could my dad tell stories? Well let’s just say it runs in the family.