Fire-dog, called such because of his blazing orange color, is a name which just didn’t work for me. Since he looks exactly like Laudie-dog (female name with “-ie”), he’s now officially Laudy-dog (male name with “-y”). Even on his rabies tag.
Before the trip to the vet:
He’s been able to lie down once again without taking hours to do this.
I’ve never seen him sit, but that’s coming I’m sure. The Vet mentioned seeing him sitting.
He’s gone from not eating at all, to eating one hand-fed kibble, to eating without being hand-fed.
He’s happier to go in and out of the house without this being an end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it event.
He has no more nightmares.
When he goes number two, he would scream. That’s going away.
The result from the visit to the Vet is that he has no heart worms, no whip worms, no ring worms, and he’s got all his shots for distemper/etc and rabbies.
The Vet examined the tail-thing that going on, and it seems he might have a dislocated tail, perhaps hit by a car, perhaps, you know… But I’m told that will very likely heal on its own in another week or two. All good.
He’s calming down after whatever trauma he went through, confident now that he’s not going to get hit or kicked or smashed down. He’s learning to assert himself.
Adopting a dog is good. Getting adopted by a dog is really cool.
All of a sudden there are gangs of dogs in the entire region here in Western North Carolina. These three, pictured above, include a couple that are run of the mill pets. But there are also beautiful dogs in such or gangs, such as that young puppy Husky-Wolf combo (see the widely placed, very short ears, along with the enormous puppy paws). Such gangs of dogs are new to the area. No collars.
Are they just being dumped by animal shelters, even from out of state, kill or no-kill, which simply don’t have the funds any more to deal with the dogs?
I mean, are people just dumping their dogs because of the high price of dog-food? And so there are way too many dogs for the animal shelters to deal with?
Did dog-fight idiots die, or were they arrested, with the result that all the bait-dogs were let go to fend for themselves? They were all pets previously.
Are children trafficked from the border being cage-fought (a thing around here), you know, to the death, just like the dogs. There’s a super-abundance of kids being trafficked. That changes everything. Cage-fought kids bring in higher spending gamblers more than just dogs. And the kids can be trafficked for porn and sex as well. So, ditch the dogs, right?
Meanwhile, Fire-dog seems to have a developing history of how he came to the church doors with no one ever having seen him previously. The night before Fire-dog was seen for the first time up at church a neighbor to the church spoke of a car in the upper-parking lot, and a car door slamming. That was Fire-dog being dumped and abandoned. I’m guessing that was to save the life of that dog, as Fire-dog was obviously abused terribly.
And, I mean, thanks for the compliment, you know, that that Catholic priest up there seems to like dogs a lot, and had a dog just like that, and maybe he’ll take care of this dog… blah blah blah…
But I can’t take care of all the dogs people are dumping all of a sudden…
I’d just like to note, however, that there might be an opposite and more far reaching effect that no one likes to think about when it comes to an overabundance of dogs. The dog-fighting idiots might start up again.
And there’s always a next step, as there is always bigger money. If dog-fighting for betting starts up again, you gotta know that cage-fighting whatever kids will start up again. And that’s a lot easier now.
Fire-dog is looking rather stern for just a second, but then figures out what a mirror is.
Then there’s a glance back at me, a glare, really, reprimanding me for having tricked her to being inside the mirror.
And then, with a heart-stopping “I’ll show you, you wise guy, you” kind of look, she totally jumps into the mirror and stares at me from inside the mirror itself, making me interact with the Fire-dog in the mirror as revenge. Heart stopping intelligence.
You recall Saint Paul’s thoughts:
“For now we see through a mirror [ἔσοπτρον], enigmatically” (1 Corinthians 13:12).
A mirror provides a reflection, does it not? And NOT necessarily of oneself if one knows how to use a mirror in other ways, such as is the case with the last picture of Fire-dog above, using the mirror to look at me.
Elsewhere we read about this reflection of God in His good creation, unless people do not want to see that reflection:
“The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of people, who suppress the truth by their wickedness, since what may be known about God is plain to them, because God has made it plain to them. For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.”
That verse from 1 Corinthians 13:12 about now seeing God through a mirror enigmatically continues:
“…but then [we will see] face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.”
In heaven, there are no tricks with mirrors. The beatific vision is most direct. God is love. I love that.
Background: Laudie-dog died a while back. Shadow-dog saw me bury her.
Yesterday after the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, “Tiny” (he IS Sasquatch) and I had a long discussion about dogs, something like pet dogs, protection dogs, service dogs, bite dogs, drug dogs, IED dogs, cadaver dogs, disease dogs, you know, man’s best friends, you know, Laudie-dog, Shadow-dog…
As we went outside we discovered Laudie-dog apparently redivivus. I’m naming this fiery orange Ridgeback Rhodesian Lion Dog Fire-dog for obvious reasons. Fire-dog was stubbornly lying on a carpet next to the church entrance, directly in front of our vehicles, right in front of the entrance of the social hall, strategically positioned, impossible to miss. This Fire-dog wanted to be noticed, possibly in trouble health wise.
This is the most quiet, most friendly, most humble, most unassuming fire-dog ever. Really sad, that, for the reason that I think this fire-dog was desperate to look cute, to be instant life-long friends with whomever it was that came along. Sorry, but I suspected that there must be some dark history of terrible suffering behind all that.
Tiny provided some treats that he always has on hand in his V.A. provided Jeep, though he has no dog himself, not yet anyway. It didn’t take any coaxing at all to get Fire-dog into the passenger seat of Sassy the Subaru. We went to the Veterinary clinic straightaway. No chips. No tattoos. And no collar, by the way. The one in the picture was picked up at the house, having belonged to Laudie-dog, fitting this Fire-dog perfectly. We then went to the animal shelter to see if they recognized such a creature. Nope. We asked people in town in the know about all the dogs on the streets. No one had seen Fire-dog previously.
The absolute earliest appointment with the vets is March 2nd. I’m thinking Fire-dog might not live until then. And that’s not because Shadow-dog would overpower and kill Fire-dog. No. They were instant lifelong friends. Never seen anything like it. Shadow-dog was entirely calm and respectful of Fire-dog. I think Shadow-dog knew that Fire-dog was terribly sick and that I wanted to do something for this Fire-dog. All good. Stunningly amazing though because of how instantly they were forever friends.
The reason I think Fire-dog may not make it is because of having suffered a possible act of domestic violence or a traffic accident. All the signs are there. Cowering. Nightmares. Timid. Taking, like, over an hour, maybe two hours, to circle about, ad nauseam, before laying down on a carpet for the remainder of the night, after waking up from a nightmare, having awakened by shrieking a shriek to bring down the house. It made Shadow-dog wake up, having him almost go through the ceiling in fright.
Also, this Fire-dog is not eating much. Only a few kibbles that I hand feed one at a time, just to please me. Maybe just shy, maybe sick. But the vets visit is a week out. I remember when Laudie-dog wasn’t eating because of a liver infection that finally took her out.
This was all on Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, which is to be about friendship with Jesus, spiritual exercises of almsgiving, prayer, fasting, providing for the widow and orphan. Yes. But I also think that being respectful of such creatures as are put in our paths quite literally surely by our guardian angels is consistent with all that which is more exalted, with love of God and neighbor.
As with Laudie-dog, Fire-dog is no rescue dog. I didn’t adopt Fire-dog. Fire-dog adopted me. Just like Laudie-dog. They own me, not vice versa. Shadow-dog is a rescue-dog, but that’s also a badge of honor, right? He’s still that Alpha when it comes to protecting me from attacking pit-bulls and such, and rightly so.
The stats point to this correlation of treatment of animals and humans. Abuse of animals indicates that abuse of human beings has already taken place or is about to take place, the stats climbing towards 100%. And while taking that from the other direction, that respect for animals necessarily means respect for human beings isn’t always true, that respect for animals is nevertheless good training for our fallen human nature to respect human beings. Well, that’s true if there’s just one more thing: humble thanksgiving for Jesus for having taken us deadly seriously, we who were such vicious dogs ripping Him to shreds on Calvary by our sin.
“For dogs have compassed me about, the assembly of the wicked have closed me in; they pierced my hands and my feet” (Psalm 22:16).
With Jesus forgiving us, we become instant lifelong, eternal friends with the Son of the Living God. He makes it so. “I call you friends,” He says.
Jesus took us on while we were smacked down by our sins, sick from our sins.
Shadow-dog got a new rope the other day. He immediately went into Snoopy-dog dance mode, with a twist, as you can see from the slideshow above. This is no silly ribbon dance.
When Cooper-pony next door appears in his next door back yard and taunts Shadow-dog, Shadow-dog instantly runs to grab this rope and whip it about as a threat, though it is actually his invitation to play.
And yet, play-mode for Shadow-dog can bring down an opponent, all part of play, right? Shadow-dog, in front of a real aggressor, say, with a knife, can look like he’s playing a game with that rope, but he can actually aim this heavy knotted weapon into the back of the knees of an aggressor, who, distracted, half-falling to the ground, can have his threat neutralized from the front, that is, Shadow-dog, quick as lightning, happily carrying away the knife, happy to have a toy that looks more serious.
Shadow-dog has tried out his advanced skill-sets on me multiple times, letting me know what he can do to protect me. A real joy to see him in action. It is to laugh in anticipation of what he do to disarm some nefarious character. Plenty of them around here.
And people wonder how it is that I learned in my own small way to bait bad-actors. It’s Shadow-dog, man’s best friend, who’s my teacher. To quote a certain character in that thriller ecclesiastical novel Jackass for the Hour, “It’s too easy.”
BTW and just to say, people also ask me about their pets going to heaven. The usual answer, citing Aquinas and such, has gotten stuck in a discussion about the non-immortality of animal souls, in that they were not meant ever to be in some sort of grace unifying them with the life of the Most Holy Trinity by way of Redemption and Salvation. When they die, they’re gone. Yep.
On the other hand, I think it’s makes sense to look at this from another perspective, that of the new heavens and the new earth. Animals are very much part of our existence. And they don’t have to be immortal to be in heaven. I don’t see why being in heaven necessitates the beatific vision. That’s not what animals were ever about. They’ll go about their vocations, so to speak, and live and die as individuals, and it’s all good. It just won’t be, in particular, this Laudie-dog or that Shadow-dog, but rather dogs whose species will be immortal, but not the individuals.
But, maybe I’m missing something. I’ve often heard that. :-)
Today’s Ash Wednesday: Be more joyful in friendship with Jesus during Lent than Shadow-dog has fun with his weapon-toys.
Shadow-dog’s story is that the locals ganged up with the police to arrange that I get Shadow-dog as a puppy at one and a half years old. He’s grown to be an well-oversized GSD.
A new cop, a good friend, didn’t know about Shadow-dog. He was visiting the neighbors on their front porch (I was there too). He heard some barking, didn’t like it, and immediately went to investigate at my house, where he met Shadow-dog for the first time. He ran back exclaiming, “I didn’t know Father George had a Bite Dog!”
Of course he would think that. Wishful thinking for the PD. But, no, Shadow-dog isn’t a trained bite-dog. But he does practice, as in the picture above. It’s much like using a rehab tool for an injured hand, something boxers might use:
One guy in town calls Shadow-dog “retarded” for carrying around “toys” like this, but Shadow-dog and I know better.
Although Shadow-dog is only a GSD, he is abnormally oversized, so I’m going to compare his bite to a wolf, whose normal bite clocks in at 406 psi, but over 1,200 psi when pumped with adrenaline. Maybe more, because he’s always practicing.
Meanwhile, we’re getting ready for Lent, right? Spiritual exercises!
Fasting
Prayer
Almsgiving
When we exercise with those spiritual exercises, we find out how weak we are, and turn to Christ Jesus, in whose friendship those exercises are always to begin and end. Lent is about growing in friendship with Jesus.
+ Fulton J Sheen said that he couldn’t fast much because he would get testy with people. But we realize that, turn to Jesus, and keep going. That might give us an expression like Shadow-dog has in that picture up top of this post, but – Hey! – if this assists us to call on Jesus, assists us to be closer friends with Jesus, this is what it’s all about.
Number one, above, you notice you’re distracted. That’s important. Now you can do something about it.
Number two, below, without suppressing or denying the distraction – because when did that ever work? – you continue with what’s most important.
By the way, that was one bite, chomping off that tyrannosaurus rex hip socket, before proceeding to get the marrow out of the bone itself. Goooood daaaaawg!
That’s facing West towards the driveway, from which arrival of the food-bearer is to be noted. But, with me being home, moments later he’s facing East, toward the usual approach of those wanting to attempt a home-invasion, until they meet up with oversized Shadow-dog:
Shadow-dog got a new doghouse yesterday evening. It’s set up quite a bit higher up to avoid any flooding. Apparently, just in time, as Ian is also set to drop lots of rain here in the mountains.
I’ve been trying to get a number of people I know down in Florida to evacuate, including my “Shadow.” You don’t think it can happen to you, until it does.
Oh, and Shadow-dog also got a new bed under the desk where I write. He loves it.
By the way, that special heavy-traffic grass does get trimmed a couple of times a year. That’s coming up soon. It’s the only thing that will keep that inner sanctum of the backyard from turning into a sea of mud. Seas of mud are the would-be joy of Shadow-dog. He’s the consummate German Shepherd.
The vet’s been having me put Shadow-dog on a diet saying that less weight will cut down the risk of hip dysplasia. Since losing some weight, he’s running more than ever, incredibly acrobatic in chomping on carpenter bees who challenge him. He’s lightning quick.
For me as well, yesterday was insanely busy. Run run run. Meeting, meeting, meeting. Phone call, phone call, phone call. Holy Mass and a zillion Confessions throughout the day, including my own. I love Confession. Our majestic Lord Jesus is good and kind.
Getting back to the rectory just at nightfall I did the perimeter walk to check on the garden, harvesting the daily handful of asparagus.
And then I saw it. My heart sank. Oh. No. The gate of the backyard fence was wide open and had been all day. I didn’t think of possible home invasion at all. Instead, my only thoughts were:
WHERE’S SHADOW-DOG?!
One second later, there he was, doing his own border patrol, just glancing up at me as he ignored the wide open gate as if it weren’t open, continuing on his merry way, making sure all is safe and secure.
I was awestruck. I’ve been underestimating Shadow-dog altogether. What a wonderfully loyal dog. This is what GSDs are all about. His job is to hold down the fort, not to investigate the neighborhood, not to go play with the neighbor dogs, not to chase after cars, not to harass the local druggies on their drug runs. He’s totally happy holding down the fort.
How cool is that? Needless to say, he got a lot of lovin’ for being such a good daaawg! His diet was enhanced with an evening meal of canned-meat dog-food and dog treats sent in by dearest Charlene.
Of course, Shadow-dog is wondering what all the fuss is about, that it’s all good, that he’s only been doing what he has to do as any GSD.
Analogy time: All of us have a vocation to do what we have to do: God’s will, which is, in loving Jesus by way of the grace He provides, keeping the commandments. But we’re not forced. The “gate” of the fence is open, as it were. We can chase off and do our own will. But we are only happy when accomplishing the will of God by way of God’s grace in our lives. Our joy is to see the open gate and do God’s will anyway, and with joy. Thank you, Jesus.
“When you have done everything commanded of you, you should say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.’ ” (Luke 17:10)
Shadow-dog has been missing Laudie-dog. You can tell by little behaviors. Me too. For instance, while there’s plenty of canned dog food, there’s also a dry-dog-food bin with which to alternate. There’s been two measuring cups in that bin for years, one is huge, made out of pryex, for Shadow-dog, and another, a smallish plastic measuring cup for Laudie-dog. It’s been how long since Laudie-dog died? And it’s only now it hit me that her measuring cup doesn’t need to be in that bin any more? It’s one of those thousand moments when you’re more self-aware that currents run deep…
Meanwhile, Shadow-dog, alone in holding down the fort, has been upping his game with ripping things to shreds as pictured above with his martial arts rope. He uses centrifugal force with great precision much like nunchaku. His greatest de-escalation technique is still his attention-getting voice, his greatest weapon his teeth and jaws, not that he’s ever had to use the latter.
Meanwhile, however great a fighter Shadow-dog might imagine himself to be, he’s still filled with naïveté.
Meanwhile, one of our police officers of retired fame, totally a dog guy, apparently got scared ****less (the description of the neighbor) when he stopped by (I wasn’t home). Running over to the neighbor, he had exclaimed: “I didn’t know Father George had a Bite-Dog!!! He’s huge!!!”
I admit, Shadow-dog is a bit intimidating, as he comes in quite a bit taller than the usual upper-max GSD height. All muscle, as he trains all day. He’s at the top of his game right now. But he’s also morphing, though he’s on the younger side of middle age. He’s losing his jet blackness. I think sanfelipe007 told me that would be the case years ago. Tell-tail wolf-brown patches have started in behind all four paws.
I’m imagining this is his new camouflage needed for upcoming golden-years, as it were. It’s a big, bad world out there and he’ll need all the help he can get. He’s also having to lose some of his naïveté, an ultra-socialization that was instilled into him during his first 18 months before I got him, eating, as he did, at the high-school cafeteria every day. The more trained up, the more camouflage, the more he’s a realist, the more loyalty he’s developing.
Shadow-dog got smacked hard on his snout last week, opening up a shallow but tender wound. Who knows how that happened, but I’m thinking someone reached over the fence to fake-pet him but instead smacked him hard with some sort of straight-edge. It’s healed now. He’s tough. But I’m sure he doesn’t like that treatment, not for himself, not for any other dogs. A stranger that mistreats a dog is how to make a dog an enemy and make him more loyal to his territory and owner at the same time.
Meanwhile, while Shadow-dog loses his naïveté, he also demonstrates that he has a big heart. He has a kind of crying mixed with anxiety mixed with anger mixed with eagerness to help when he hears bad and evil things going on in this part of town. I’m told that he was making this kind of commentary the other day. One of the neighbors said they heard what sounded like a dog who just got mortally wounded and was screaming bloody murder a bit further away in our part of the town, with shots fired and police called. Of course, animal abuse is a felony in North Carolina. Police are especially interested in stopping this, not only to rescue the animals, but because if someone’s hurting an animal, it’s pretty much guaranteed that human beings are being treated in the same way. Everyone had already fled.
Meanwhile, no matter how trained up and ready for the big bad world we think we are, we always have more naïveté to lose than we would ever care to admit. Some of us have already seen really a lot of bad and evil things in this life. I myself have seen really a lot of evil in every sector of society right around the world, from the very bottom to the very top, and it just continues, so much so that that I’m quite continuously exclaiming that I’m just so very naïve. My parishioners can testify to this.
I think this is a good thing to lose one’s naïveté, so as to see things as they are, and who we really are before God and neighbor. The best way to do this, everyday, is to behold Jesus as the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world, you know, with the wounds still upon His risen body. Stare at the wounds, lose naïveté. Jesus often spoke of malicious wolves, and our own selves being sent out amidst the wolves who would make sport of us, tossing us about and ripping us to shreds, you know, as the Master so the disciple. How can we not see those wounds? How can we not lose our naïveté?
The perfect camouflage in a bad and evil world is to look like a criminal in the bad and evil world, but in this way to so let our light shine before men…
ARISE! LET US BE GOING! 