You Are Not a Blogger! Accurate Criticism from Luann and an Attempt to Right this Wrong.

I received an email from my best friend Luann who in essence sort of summed up this blog lately with one word. Boring.

Impending Storm. (c) Eric Metzler. 1950's

She's right. I have neglected this blog and I am truly sorry. The simple fact that she still checks it shows you what a loyal friend she is. Never one to mince words as evidenced by her accusation above - I am going to try and write something here that is not boring. Since this is a blog for a nonfiction book, I suppose my post should be nonfiction as well. So, in reference to my exciting life at the moment - I decided to write a brief description of yesterday as it really happened...then I will attempt to jazz it up.

Sunday, August 5th 2012. It was a stormy day. My husband asked me to check accuweather to see how close the storm was. This involved finding the live radar site, refreshing it at intervals since it would freeze, and then tracking the coming storm on the screen as it approached. Apparently I did not do this quickly enough, or well enough, as Jason seemed irritated at the speed at which I was checking the track of the storm. The dog sat on my lap. Finally, the storm arrived and he closed all the blinds in the family room to go stand in the kitchen, where he opened the blinds wide, to watch the storm standing up, several feet away from where he was sitting when he was waiting for the storm. For some reason he felt this made sense.The storm came. There were several comments made about the storm. It ended.

Sunday August 5th, 2012. The darkening sky was ominous. Something in the air hinted at what was to come - the stillness, the absence of sound, a thick, almost palpable sense of dread settled in among us. Watching the approaching storm clouds we knew we were powerless in the path of this monster. Our faithful dog, relying on primal canine instinct, never left my side. She was protecting me as best she could from the impending onslaught. (Not really. She had no clue. She's a pug. The only thing probably going through her mind was "I am comfortable here. Why are you moving around. Since you're up, can you fetch me a snack?")

 My husband, pacing back and forth approached me suddenly and said

 "The radar. Go to the radar!" 

Knowing that this was the only thing we could do as we lay in wait for the inevitable, I quickly punched in the website for accuweather. The computer slowly started trying to load the page. We watched as the circle spiraled - attempting to bring forth accuweather.com - I felt it was mocking us.

"Why?!" Jason yelled, shaking his fist at the sky, (well, ceiling actually...we were indoors and there's the ceiling and then another floor above us, followed of course by the roof unless you don't consider the attic, which of course you should if you're trying to be accurate.) He became increasingly agitated, his pulse visible in the veins of his neck.

"Hit refresh!" He bellowed. (I've always wanted to use the word "bellowed". It's not often one gets the opportunity to use that word. I just may use it twice.)

"I did!" I bellowed back. (See.)

Finally, the page for accuweather.com came forth, (much more dramatic than"loaded" don't you think?), and the truth was laid out before us. Any hope that we would avoid this storm was stripped bare. (Stripped and bare....how about that. I'm SO like that 50 Shades of Grey writer except that I'm not a gazillionaire.)

In the same instinctive way men of past generations have prepared to save their families from the wrath of mother nature, Jason battened down the  hatches. (Read "closed the blinds."). The wind picked up, whistling through the trees, ( I really couldn't hear the wind because the windows were closed.)

"Don't look!!" I bellowed. (That was too much wasn't it? Twice was good, three times not so much.) I cried.

"Why?! WHY!!!?" Jason yelled, cursing the storm. (This is actually the truth. I told him that this was akin to that line about it being futile to curse the darkness which I thought was not only an astute observation on my part, but also pretty witty. He did not seem to find me as witty as I find myself and just looked at me and said "Huh?".)

The storm was upon us, wailing against our home - and then almost as suddenly - it was gone. We hugged each other, knowing that next time, we might not be so lucky. (That didn't happen. What really happened is that it was still raining in our yard, yet the sun was shining in the field behind our house and Jason, for some reason, did not approve of this. I think he said something to the effect of; "What the hell is this?")

We grasped hands and silently walked out to survey our territory. (We have like a HUGE amount of land...almost the size of Vatican City. I think it's like almost an acre!) Jason put his arm around my shoulder and said "Look, the sun is shining for us.". (Actually he stayed on the deck suspiciously eyeing the horizon and I said something like "This is cool." and walked down to stand in the sun shower, expecting him to follow and join me in appreciation of this rare and rather unique situation. He did not. Rather he asked me if bees can fly in the rain and I said "I don't think so." Thinking back on this I probably should've said "I don't know", because I really don't know. When people ask you about bees you should probably know what you're talking about. I'll note that for next time.)

As I turned back to watch the storm clouds receding and sun beaming through the light rain, Jason beamed at me (read "glared"), and gave me a knowing look. Yes. We had survived...and we would survive again. He pumped his fist in the air in that easily recognizable gesture of triumph used in many Rocky movies and I smiled. We had not only survived, but thrived. (Don't you love that trite sentence? If you Google it, it comes up all over the place. That's how much people love that sentence.). We would see another day I thought, watching our reflection in our private lake, (okay, it's an above ground pool..but it's one of those oblong ones so it's pretty close to a lake), noticing that my reflection was too thin - I reminded myself that I should eat more, (HAHAHAHAHAHA!).

Our faithful dog galloped through the yard, joyfully claiming her land back from the storm that had threatened to take it all away. (Actually, as you know...she is a pug. She doesn't gallop. She trots around sniffing and snorting, but that doesn't really create the same visual impact.)

Jason once again raised our flag, in symbolic recognition of our victory...and I knew...and he knew....and the dog knew....and AMERICA KNEW!!!!!, (that was good, right?),  that we'd overcome great odds. (We have a flag pole, but no flag. The people we bought the house from took the flag with them. Who does that? Anyway, I keep reminding myself I have to get a flag.). In silent homage, to those who weren't as lucky as us, who perhaps had lost satellite reception or worse...cellphone signals...we stood silently watching the flag wave in the wind. Yes. Life was good. Indeed.

(In reality I turned to talk to him after he asked me about the bees to find that he'd run inside. He ran back outstide...and those of you who know Jason, know that he really does run everywhere..and sprayed behind a piece of vinyl siding where there had been a huge bees nest. "WATCH OUT!" he yelled. "YOU SHOULD BACK UP AND GET AWAY FROM THERE AFTER I DO THIS. THEY'RE GOING TO FLY OUT OF HERE!". He sprayed and flew up the stairs back onto the deck and into the house. One bee sort of crawled out of the siding, like he'd been napping, and then walked back in. I think I might've even seen him yawn a little bee yawn.) Jason came back out and looked sadly at the siding.

THE END.

Okay Luann. How'd I do?   :)

My Appeal for Patience, Understanding, maybe a Box of Milanos...that would be nice.

I just wanted to let everyone know that:

I do love you.
I do want to talk to you.
I mean to return your call but I pass out with my phone in my hand.
I do miss you.
I don't mean to be so cranky.

Now that that's all cleared up - I'm at 55,000 words with 50,000 or so to go. I could bang this out if I didn't have a full-time job with a stress level of 15 on a scale of 1 to 10. I have ideas, paragraphs, a narrative arc, plot lines, endings, beginnings...excitement....I am loving this project...but what I don't have is time. And it's frustrating, although this is just the way it is. Opportunity knocks and you don't say "Hey, can you wait until my summer vacation?" Opportunity would tell you where to get off....although I don't think Opportunity would be that crude about it. I've always thought of Opportunity as sort of refined and well regarded. If Opportunity were at a party, it would wear beige...or something else nice and neutral with maybe one signature piece of jewelry...nothing flashy like Kim Kardashian would wear.

Please don't forget me. I haven't forgotten you....really. I'm just 55,000 words in with 50,000 or so to go and for those of you who know what that feels like, you know what I mean. For those of you who might understand  but not relate...just know that I'm still here...I miss you all very much and I'll call you back soon. :)

Loved this Review from Dogcatanimalcare.com!

Click logo above to go directly to Mary's blog.

Thank you to Mary Smith, an artist and writer from redhotkitties.com for her wonderful review of Tales from a Dog Catcher. 


Thanks Mary...your review really meant a lot to me, especially since you really grasped the theme of my book - that sometimes all we really can do is ""try your best, and cry afterwards."

     An unpretentious volume that you might pass by, if you saw it on the library shelf, this is one of those wonderful discoveries that you will instantly want to add to your animal tales collection! Author Lisa Duffy-Korpics offers a heart-warming-and-rending collection of chapters on special cats, dogs (and other creatures) she saved–or lost–while working as an animal control officer. I found myself devouring each story, connecting with Lisa in each joyful and successful or frustrating encounter.


 I’ve always wanted to be an animal rescue super-hero, able to leap in and make things RIGHT for every animal on earth. Lisa’s stories are a real-life version of this dream, but grounded in stark reality. Sometimes, all you can do is try your best, and cry afterwards. As when we saved our Precious, it was too littIe, too late, but at least we got to love her. I loved this book!! Every good thing counts.

Dogs Riding in Cars

photo courtesy of animalclinic.ca

On New Year's Day it's probably common to reflect on years past...or look optimistically towards the future.
Maybe to reevaluate old habits and forge new paths. Today, however, something struck me that just needed to be addressed here.

Dogs.

Dogs riding in cars.

While driving to pick up my daughter from her friend's house, I saw something that made me hesitate and struck me much the way odd things sometimes tend to strike people.

Thoughts like these are probably more common than you would think. As a matter of fact, if I were capable of seeing people's thoughts in bubbles over their heads like in a comic strip, I bet I would see a lot of thoughts like this. An awareness that some of the things we do in this era are so far removed from what is natural that if you thought about anything completely objectively you would have cause to stop for a moment and say "Hmmm, okay"

This goes against the grain, the nature of things. Like the dog riding in the passenger seat of a rusty old Trans-Am, (they stopped making those didn't they? Probably a good thing.), sitting up in the front looking quite dignified and entitled. A large Pit Bull Great Dane type of dog who, if it had been summer, might've had his paw leaning out the open window, wearing sunglasses. That's when

I thought. Dogs...descendants of wolves, pack animals, capable of hunting dinner and devouring it raw in a matter of moments...these powerful animals who rely on instinct and a keen sense of smell, are now riding shotgun in Trans-Am's.

What would his canine ancestors think? I wonder if the dog had his own presets on the radio station or played some of his own music....probably on an 8-track player given the year of the car, but I digress....still, the thought of humans driving around highways with dogs seemed to me at that moment to be really funny. It was like one of those thoughts I have sitting in the parking lot at Target when I think that somewhere, someone among the crowd of people getting swallowed up and spit out by those automatic doors has just purchased a chia-pet.

Perhaps this will make sense to some of you, or not. However I know out there that there are those of you who may think the way I do. That the next time you see a poodle wearing rain boots and a hat you may find yourself wanting to scream "Oh...the humanity!!".

The comic genius Charles Schultz was the master of this type of thinking. His characters often looked at life in a way that cut through the expected and right to the crux of the matter. One of my favorites is a line where Linus is sitting still, then makes an uncomfortable face followed by a look of fear and puts his hand over his mouth and says "Suddenly, I'm aware of my tongue!"

I guess you could say I had one of those Linus moments. The dog in the car probably feels as natural there as he would running through a field...maybe even more so. Who knows....as I look around my home with its microwave, convection oven, toaster and crock pot I think to myself that all these things do is provide a way to heat food to eat, and I feel a little like that dog...that I should shed some of these trappings meant to make life easier because maybe they're entrapping me?

 But then I realize that these are just thoughts and that the best way to handle these would be to go on my computer and blog about it, because after-all, in the human world I am the equivalent of small terrier.....I think I'm big and strong but in reality I'm small and weak and maybe a tad neurotic with a bit of an attitude....and I love my iPad and laptop and the internet. I'm not about to go outside and chop wood and carry water - although somewhere in my psyche I understand how far removed I've become from my ancestors who would likely look at me strangely.

Like a dog riding in a Trans-Am.