Puppy/Kitten Mill Bill

Lollipop and Missy

My parents with Minnie

When I started volunteering with the Animal Humane Society a few years ago, I started to learn about puppy/kitten mills.  What I learned was so horrible I had to take action. I wrote letters to the papers and to my MN legislatures, to no avail.  I was already taking a writing class online, so I decided to write an article about these mills.  You can read this article in this blog under the heading My Writing.

I am posting this now as this is the first week of the MN legislature.  Our state goes on a two-year cycle.  So every two years a new bill has to be created.  This is the second year, and the mill bill was stuck in the agriculture committees last spring, as it has been in every other spring since the start of trying to pass this legislation.

Last year one of my letters finally made it in my local paper.  Over the years I have received letters from legislators that I wrote to.  But my legislators represent the Twin Cities metro area, whereas the Ag committees represents rural MN.  Therein lies the problem.

Pets are companion animals, not farm animals.  They are domesticated from the wolf and the wild cat.  Domesticated by humans, thence the label companion animal.  Why you might ask are the bills in the Ag committees?  Good question!  Of which I have no answer to.

After the bill did not pass the first year of my involvement, I sobbed that night.  I imagined those poor animals shivering in their barns, hungry for food, water, love.  I imagine them now as we suffer the coldest winter we have had for years.

I look into my cat's eyes, my family's pets eyes, the dogs and cats at the humane society, and they ask me why?  Why do humans do this?  They ask me will I be their voice?

I ask you will you be their voice.

To learn more about mills and what to do.

Loving my Enemies

I was in Paris during 9-11.  After a week I  was finally able to fly home.  By that time life had went on as usual as we Minnesotans were so far away from the terrorists attacks.  But I had a delayed reaction.  I was so distraught I couldn't go back to work for a week.  And when I did, I stared at Muslim men, wondering if they would be the next suicide attacker.  I watch planes fly over the skyscrapers in Minneapolis where I worked, hoping they would fly over them and not into them.   I did not blame Muslim women, I saw them as victims of an oppressive culture.  But the men, I feared them and hated them.  I had never known that feeling, knowing that someone hated me enough to want to kill me, just because I was an American.


After a few years of college and failed career attempts, I decided to delve into writing and use my free time to volunteer at places I had always wanted to but never had the time.  I started to teach English as a Second Language (ESL) for adults.  Some of my students were Muslim, including the men.


Over time I began to see that they are not all terrorists.  In fact, most Muslims, most anyone, just wants a better life for their families.  That is why they come here.  I don't believe they come here to take advantage, or to kill us.  But to have what we have always had, what we have always taken for granted.  Freedom.  Opportunity.  The basic necessities of life: food, shelter, education, health. 


I love my students, even the Muslim men.  What changed?  I read a lot of books, watched a lot of documentaries.  I reminded myself that we have home-grown terrorists too, like the Oklahoma bombing or the Olympic games bombing.


It is easy to group people into categories of good/bad.  But people are not so black and white.  I know I'm not.  This takes more time and energy, to get to know people, know their stories, and see them as they are human, like me.


We are not all so different.  We may practice different religions, speak different languages, or dress different, but I think most of us are pretty much the same.  And terrorists come from all walks of life, either here or someplace far away. 


I do believe God loves all of us, no matter who were are or where we come from.  I do believe Jesus is for all, not a white man's religion but for all as it says in the Bible, for we are not Greek or Jew, male or female, but we are all God's creation.  We don't get to choose where we are born, or what gender.  We are just here, trying to make it in this cosmic place at this time, at this place. 


In Les Miserables, the musical, the last word spoken is, "to love another person is to see the face of God."  I hope and pray I can always do this.  I know I won't, I am human, but God knows my heart, and He will help me do so.  


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Animals

Lollipop

Missy

            









In Sochi the Russian government is killing the stray dogs that roam the Olympic Village.  Volunteers are on a race against time to save theses dogs.  Here is link to an article about this effort: http://www.aol.com/article/2014/02/11/volunteers-smuggle-sochi-dogs-out-of-town/20827857/


How can one look at the photos in this article and want to kill innocent creatures?  Yet it happens everyday, too much to count.  If not killed, animals are abused or neglected across the globe.


One might wonder why should I care when there is so much human suffering around the world?  When there are children dying of starvation, women having no rights, civilians being bombed as they go about their everyday lives?


I do care about those things.  But it seems like those things, at least to me, are far away.  I live a pretty secluded life in my hometown of Anoka, MN.  I don't see starvation, women have equal rights, and we are not bombed.  No terrorist wants to waste his time in my little city where they can make a much bigger impact elsewhere!


I do give to charitable organizations that help people like this around the world.  And I pray for them.  But here, right here in my backyard, there are animals suffering with abuse and neglect.  And I can do something about it here.


Some people like to say that humans are more important and we should worry about them.  They like to use “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground," in Genesis 1:26.  I think God meant that we are to be like a benevolent ruler, like a king who provides for his people and ensures their safety.  To rule over them is not to abuse or neglect them.


Not only that, but my pets have always ministered to me throughout my life.  I owe it to them to help others like them.  When I say good-bye to my cat Chocolate before I go volunteer at the Animal Humane Society, I tell him I am helping others like him, for he was a stray.  The dog pictures on the top of this page are the dogs that my sister and her family adopted from a rescue.  My parents  adopted the one on the bottom.  We all say they have been the best pets we've ever had.  It's as if the animals know they have been given a second chance, and they are so grateful.


Animals depend on us to take care of them, whether it be domestic pets, wild animals, or farm animals.  They depend on us to do what is best for them, whatever that may be.  So that is why the stray dogs in Sochi matter. 




Minnie

Chocolate

                                     

What I am Thinking About

I am thinking about a young woman who is depressed and feeling hopeless.


I am thinking about a young man who is being threatened because he is gay.


I am thinking of a man my age who seemingly has everything yet doomed to destruction due to an addiction.


I am thinking about a father who watched his son suffer from a mental illness.


Maybe it is because I am in the throes of my period but all these things, and more, make me sad.  They make me cry.  I feel so for these people who live in a world that seems like there is no hope.  Who feel hopeless.  Who feel handicapped by illness, addiction, or bigotry.  I know how this feels.


In the past, I too felt hopeless.  Life was hell and I wanted no part of it.  I was angry at God, at the world, at everyone.  I felt like they owed me.


Living with depression is a black hole that you can't get out of.  It is wanting to hide in bed with the covers up, over my face, and waiting for the hell to end. 


But it doesn't.  Not that way.


It ends through time.  It ends through effort.  I had to choose to change.  I had to go to counseling, support groups, therapy groups, read self-help books, experiment with different medications, the list goes on.


I had to pray and be honest with God.  I had to read the Bible, go to church, go to Bible study.


I had to keep going.  I had to get out of bed each morning and face each new day, even if I gave up the day before, I had to start again.


I had to dissuade myself the notion that I would never get depressed again.  Like an addict who can never say they will never abuse drugs, I could not hope I would never get depressed again.


God is my only hope.


Sure, there are things on this earth that help us, like family and friends.  And I am so thankful I have both.


But sometimes that is not enough.  No one person can fill that void that is within each of us, for all disappoint.  I know I have.


But God never disappoints.


God overcame the world.  Nothing can separate me from His love.  Not anything of me, or anyone else, can take me away from Him. 


That is what I hope in. 


So for those out there suffering, like the ones I wrote about:


Don't give up!
Life is worth living!


Get out of bed.  Get dressed.  Get the paper.  Do one thing at a time, one day at a time.


Make the choice.  You are more than what you look like, what you do, where you come from, and where you are going.


You are a precious gift from God. 

The Things That Matter

My cat makes me laugh.  He stands at the door outside my apartment and wants me to open it.  I open it.  He goes out. I close it.  Then he wants to go in.  I open it.  Then in goes in.  I close it.  Then he wants to go out. 


I write this as I am frustrated with my computer, dissatisfied with my memoir, and clueless as to what to write about next on this blog. 


But then I have to remember that God is in control.  He will never leave me nor forsake me.  He will not abandon me or give up on me.


He will empower me when I write.  And sometimes I feel that, like something flowing through my fingertips when I write, wondering where the words I type come from.


I feel that when I figure out a way to communicate a grammar rule to the students I teach at ESL.


I feel that when I help a family and pet fall in love and go home together.

And I am reminded that these are the things that matter. 

When my parents and I enjoy watching Downton Abbey.


When my niece and I goof off and make funny noises.

When I enjoy Cold Stone Creamery and watch Big Bang Theory with my sister. 

These are the things that matter. 
Having a warm bed on a cold night.

Having my fave iced mocha at Starbucks. 

Laughing at old Seinfeld episodes or icanhascheezeburger.

In moments like this, I remember that LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL.  And life is worth living, even when

the computer doesn't work,

even when I have writer's block, even when I am not perfect. 

New Beginnings

                              


This is the sunset of Costa del Sol, in the southern edge of Spain.  The only sunset that I ever took a picture of.  I love to look at this photo as it warms my soul, and reminds me of my bravery in traversing the continent of Europe.  How I enjoyed those moments.


Now I am trying to divest of that same bravery by writing and publishing my writings.  I just emailed one agent and three publishers a query of my story.  I also put it on authonomy (http://authonomy.com/books/57738/the-word-is-peace/) to get some word of mouth going.  I don't know what will become of it but I know I have to try.  If I fail, I fail, at least I know it.  I hate to end my life wondering if.  I think of my grandma how unhappy she was when I was an adult.  She loved being a grandma but once the kids were grown, she seemed to have no purpose in life anymore.  She lived to care for children.  But without that, there seemed to be no meaning.  I don't want to be like that.  I don't want to live my life in fear. 


So I look at this sunset as if to remind myself that I have this life to live, and I better make it worthwhile!   I am here for a reason, defied the so-called experts for a reason.  So I am determined to not waste another day fretting about what if.


http://synchroblog.wordpress.com/

I'm Not Normal

The title of today's post is what I want to name my memoir that I plan to start editing next week.  I think it's a good title, and I'll tell you why.


This past fall I went to a conference at my church led by Ruth Haley Barton.  It was called Sacred Rhythms, about developing spiritual habits in our relationship with God.  In one session, Ruth asked us to visualize ourselves as the blind beggar in Mark 10: 46-52.  Here is the text:


⁴⁶ Then they came to Jericho. As Jesus and his disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, a blind man, Bartimaeus (which means “son of Timaeus”), was sitting by the roadside begging. ⁴⁷ When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”
⁴⁸ Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”
⁴⁹ Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.”
So they called to the blind man, “Cheer up! On your feet! He’s calling you.” ⁵⁰ Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.
⁵¹ “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked him.
The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.”
⁵² “Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.


Ruth then asked us to pretend that Jesus was talking to us when He asked "what do you want me to do for you?"  We were instructed to not censor our thoughts, but to be brutally honest with God and ourselves. 


The thought that popped out of my mind was, "I want to be normal!"  I was shocked that I thought such a thing.  I thought I had already dealt with all that.  I thought I accepted my physical appearance, my jobless state, my single status.  But even so, at times I still struggle with it.  When I see a happy couple, when someone gets a great job, or when I see a pretty woman be successful.  Jealousy rears its ugly head (no pun intended), and I wallow in self-pity and shame. 


I guess in life we all struggle with what we don't have at times.  Life always looks greener on the other side.  I know marriages are not all happy, I have seen my share of them.  I know jobs are fleeting, people lose them everyday.  I know pretty women get old too.  It's just at times, I want that anyways.  But then, I think, I can barely cope with what little problems I have in my life now, how could I cope with more?  I've quit jobs because I couldn't cope with them.  I am too stubborn and independent for any man, and difficult to live with!  I've known pretty women and they have problems too. 


I guess I just have to take it one day at a time.   Not dwell on past regrets, not fear the future and old age.  But the here and now.  That's all I have control over anyways.  As usual, I am challenged to just trust in God.  I don't know what I'd do without him.