The Charlie Bravo Story


I would love to delete the following post and move on, but I although I have the right to be silent, I lack the ability. Here is the unedited content concerning the abandonment of Titus Pillow to the care of the Casa del Whackos :

<“Whatever the story of the humans may be, one has to hope that someone cared enough to bring her to you. Shelters are overrun and euthanizing is pricey and difficult. She could have gotten really hurt in a parking lot. Sometimes, life is rough and if one cannot afford to feed themselves, the animals suffer. So, I am glad she found you. I know it is rough when others give you their responsibilities, but we don’t always get choose our path”>

My response: have you been huffing paint from a Wal Mart bag? There is a vast difference between “bringing TO you” and “dumping ON you”; the latter implies that they realize our situation and chose to ignore it in favor of their own selfishness. Sure, Titus is an absolute doll, but we now have no idea as to past health records or issues, so we have to start from scratch with shots, heartworm testing, possible behavior issues(thankfully, there has been absolutely none). Even an anonymous phone call or note would have been a vast improvement. And this is all in addition to the normal care and feeding of another inmate.

Then throw onto the mix the fact that the big ox is obviously swinging for the fences in the plumbing department, and anyone who follows this page knows that the Casa is already inhabited by three lovely ladies. Yes, they have all been speutered, but can you imagine the carnage while trying to keep the carnality at bay had they not been?

It reminds me of coming home from work late one cold, rainy night and finding that someone had left a shivering six week old puppy tied to the trash can at the end of my driveway. That was Dash Riprock, soon to become Takoda Steel, and although it did set into motion a series of experiences that I wouldn’t exchange for anything, I still would like to get my grubby little mittens on the waste of oxygen that would do such a thing.

Mom and I will always do what is within our power to help wherever we can, but to see someone say “I know that it’s rough, but blah, blah, blah”, especially without lifting a finger to assist, speaks volumes to the fact that they have no idea how rough it can be.

And that is that person’s loss as well, because with sacrifice comes reward; Buddhists call it karma, Christians know it as the law of sowing and reaping, but the results are the same; what you give, you receive. Regardless of the difficulties involved, I would not exchange places with anyone on this planet, as these hairy goobers and our subsequent interaction with all of you make it all worth it at the end of the day…

Unless a potential trader had a larger bed to sweeten the deal, then a trade in circumstances might be arranged.

Thus endeth the sermon; potluck will now be served downstairs… we be of one blood, ye and I.

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