Good Saturday Morning to Everyone;
I am trying to get past a "blogstipation" issue with my grey matter... It doesn't seem to be working properly, so will post a few little things that have come across my email, notes etc... Interesting to me anyway. I hope they will be the same for you. We have all probably seen these things; and true or not they should give us all reason to pause/paws. hehehe
***First and foremost I cannot for the life of me remember whose blog I stole this from. Please let me know, and do forgive my absentmindedness?
As the story goes, a man in Grand Rapids , Michigan incredibly took out a $7000 full~page~ad in the paper to present the following essay to the people of his community.
HOW COULD YOU? - By Jim Willis, 2001
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've 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 good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you.
You had 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. This "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 directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
A Note from the Author: ~If "How Could You?" brought tears to your eyes as you read it, as it did to mine as I wrote it, it is because it is the composite story of the millions of formerly "owned" pets who die each year in animal shelters.
Please use this to help educate, on your websites, in newsletters, on animal shelter and vet office bulletin boards. Tell the public that the decision to add a pet to the family is an important one for life, that animals deserve our love and sensible care, that finding another appropriate home for your animal is your responsibility and any local humane society or animal welfare league can offer you good advice, and that ALL life is precious. Please do your part to stop the killing, and encourage all spay & neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals. Please pass this on to everyone, not to hurt them or make them sad, but it could save maybe, even one, unwanted pet...
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And then (totally unrelated), there is this very interesting excerpt from Transportation Magazine... (This one is REAL kids, and I stole it from here)!
(WHO SAYS YOU HAVEN'T COME A LONG WAY, BABY?)
T
he following is an excerpt from the July 1943 issue of Transportation Magazine.This was serious and written for male supervisors of women in the work force during World War II - a mere 64 years ago! Obviously, the intent was not be "funny," but by today's standards, this is hilarious! (For those of you with efficiency issues, pay attention to #8).
Eleven Tips on Getting More Efficiency Out of Women Employees:
There is no longer any question whether transit companies should hire women for jobs formerly held by men. The draft and manpower shorrtage has settled that point. The important things now are to select the most efficient women available and how to use them to the best advantage. Here are eleven helpful tips on the subject:
1. Pick young married women. They usually have more of a sense of responsibility than their unmarried sisters. They are less likely to be flirtatious. They need the work, or they would not be doing it. The still have the pep and interest to work hard and to deal with the public efficiently.
2. When you have to use older women, try to get ones who have worked outside the home at some time in their lives. Older women who have never contacted the public have a hard time adapting themselves and are inclined to be cantankerous and fussy. It is always well to impress upon older women, the importance of friendliness and courtesy.
3. General experience indicates that "husky" girls - those who are just a little on the heavy side - are more even tempered and efficient than their underweight sisters.
4. Retain a physician to give each woman you hire a special physical examination - one covering female conditions. This step not only protects the property against the possibilities of lawsuit, but reveals whether the employee-to-be has any female weaknesses which would make her mentally or physically unfit for the job.
5. Stress at the outset, the importance of time; the fact that a minute or two lost here and there makes serious inroads on schedules. Until this point is gotten across, service is likely to be slowed up.
6. Give the female employee a definite day-long schedule of duties so that they will keep busy without bothering the management for instructions every few minutes. Numerous properties say that women make excellent workers when they have their jobs cut out for them, but that they lack initiative in finding work themselves.
7. Whenever possible, let the inside employee change from one job to another at some time during the day. Women are inclined to be less nervous and happier with change.
8. Give every girl an adequate number of rest periods during the day. You have to make some allowances for feminine psychology. A girl has more confidence and is more efficient if she can keep her hair tidied, apply fresh lipstick and wash her hands several times a day.
9. Be tactful when issuing instructions or in making criticisms. Women are often sensitive; they cannot shrug off harsh words the way men do. Never ridicule a woman - it breaks her spirit and cuts off her efficiency.
10. Be reasonably considerate about using strong language around women. Even though a girl's husband or father may swear vociferously, she will grow to dislike a place of business where she hears too much of this.
11. Get enough size variety in operator's uniforms so that each girl can have a proper fit. This point cannot be stressed too much in keeping women happy.
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hehehe Now I know that I should come in from the garden, regularly; and apply some make~up and lipstick and fix my hair. (And here I have been doing this wrong for my entire life)!!!
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The next one is of questionable origin, but has circulated around with credit being given to "Housekeeping" Magazine... July 13, 1955 Found here
Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready, on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal (especially his favourite dish) is part of the warm welcome needed.
Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking. He has just been with a lot of work-weary people.
Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it.
Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives.
Gather up schoolbooks, toys, paper, etc and then run a dustcloth over the tables.
Over the cooler months of the year you should prepare and light a fire for him to unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too. After all, catering for his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction.
Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces (if they are small), comb their hair and, if necessary, change their clothes. They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part. Minimise all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer, or vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet.
Be happy to see him.
Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him.
Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first - remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours.
Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner, or other places of entertainment without you. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax.
Your goal: Try to make sure your home is a place of peace, order, and tranquility where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.
Don't greet him with complaints or problems.
Don't complain if he's late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day.
Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.
Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soothing and pleasant voice.
Don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgment or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him.
A good wife always knows her place.
I think the only thing I can really say is that I do like to cook, given the proper time and enough of the right ingredients...
I know, I KNOW... ("My BAD"); I never did put a ribbon in my hair when I had come in from the garden to 'tidy up' the face...
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On a more serious note, I have been hearing that so many long~term marriages and relationships are splitting up... and the advice that people are giving is almost one~sided, but definitely also very cruel... They say kick him/her to the curb.
What the heck happened to "commitment" anyway? Short of incest, cheating, and beating, are there really any excuses? Although I might have missed a reason or two, "errors in judgement" are NOT excuses. So for those of you that this applies to, please just sit back and look carefully at the whole picture before you kick anyone to the curb. And yes, I do know it works both ways. You don't Spring Clean your marriage, and you don't Spring Clean your friends. That's just wrong...
I hope you all have a wonderful weekend and that you can get out and enjoy a little of the outside world too!
As for me, it is time to do a bit of gardening...
...But first I must throw on my make~up, and put a ribbon in my hair!
XOXO
Anne
PS... This, for a very special friend of mine. When we realize just how tough we are not, or really just don't want to be...
cursing at your life
you're a discontented mother
and a regimented wife
I have no doubt
you dream about the things you never do
but I wish someone had talked to me like I wanna talk to you
Oh, I've been to Georgia and California and anywhere I could run
Took the hand of a preacher man
and we made love in the sun
But I ran out of places and friendly faces
Because I had to be free
I've been to paradise but I've never been to me...
Please lady please lady
don't just walk away
Cause I have this need to tell you
why I'm all alone today
I can see so much of me
still living in your eyes
won't you share a part
of a weary heart that has lived a million lives
Oh, I've been to Nice and the isle of Greece
when I sipped champagne on a yacht
I moved like Harlo in Monte Carlo
and showed them what I've got
I've been undressed by kings
and I've seen some things that a woman ain't s'pose to see
I've been to paradise but I've never been to me...
Hey, you know what paradise is?
It's a lie
a fantasy we created about people and places
as we like them to be
but you know what truth is?
it's that little baby you're holding
and it's that man you fought with this morning
the same one you are gonna make love to tonight
that's truth that's love
sometimes I've been to crying for unborn children
that might have made me complete
but I, I took the sweet life
I never knew I'd be bitter from the sweet
I spent my life exploring
the subtle whoreing
that cost to much to be free
hey lady I've been to paradise
but I've never been to me...
I've been to paradise but I've never been to me...
Top picture taken from here...
