Man Saves His Dog From A Shark

Owner hits shark to save his rat terrier

The Associated Press - Fla. | A dog is re

covering after a Florida Keys carpenter dove in to save his pet from a shark.

Greg LeNoir said he took his 14-pound rat terrier Jake for a daily swim at a marina Friday. The 5-foot-long shark suddenly surfaced and grabbed nearly the entire dog in its mouth.

LeNoir said he yelled and dove into the water. He hit the shark in the back and the creature finally let go of the dog.

The dog suffered bite wounds but was not critically injured.

http://www.kansascity.com/news/nation/story/821524.html

Chester:

Tell you what. That is one gutsy son of a gun.  We need to get word to Islamorada to make sure our dogs get some big, juicy steaks over to these two.

This story makes me feel useless. I have been beating the streets and fields around here looking for were signs and leads about Rex's killers.  Also, been keeping tabs on Jack, and Sherry, which has been easier.  They have been staying close more lately, due to a recent "issue" with one of the boys.  More on that later.  Maybe.  But, Jack is worried and Sherry is scared. 

Did some training over the weekend with Jason and Jessica.  They now have over thirty people in their band.  All are new.  The old schoolers, those not willing to "take it to the next level," are all gone. Those who remain are ready to do what must be done.  

I had them running patrols and IADs, setting up perimeters and raids all night long. No live firing. But, half of them are former military.  Jason recruits heavily amongst Iraq vets.  He and I have disagreements on some issues, such as police.  I will not fire on police.  They are the good guys, for the most part.  Many police are weredogs.  But, Jason says anyone that gets in our way . . . well, gets in our way, and has to be dealt with.  I will make him come around to right thinking.

Most of these kids carry AKs, or some sort of AK knock-off, like a Valmet. Some carry 16s, or a variant. One, a thin, nervous kid named Rad (shot for "Radical," he claims; I lifted his wallet, and his ID says "Radley.") carries an M-4. Full-auto. He won't say how or where he got it. He let me look it over. We got into an argument when I said, "This is just a CAR-15 covered in junk."  He objected quite strongly. 

A new family moved into the neighborhood.  They have a gorgeous irish setter named Nola. I have made a few late-night visits to Nola. She is incredible.  Got to keep my head. And if I could beat a shark, or a werewolf, I might feel a lot better.

Updates

I received and urgent voicemail form Jason last night. He said he needs me. I guess I have to go meet with him, maybe "run away" for a few days. My bags are packed. My bags are always packed.

I received an email from Dionna. She said he still thinks of me, that I am in her dreams. In these dreams she and I are running through the woods, without stopping, without tiring. She said she wishes she could get me, a dog, out of her mind. She said she did not want to send the e-mail, but could not help it. Had to. She said if I did not reply she would understand, almost be relieved. I replied to her that same night, said, "Me too."

I have leads on Rex's killers. 

Jack and Sherry are some ways better. They had sex night before last. I thought they were going to hut each other. They were making up for lost time. No more lost time, I want to tell them. As I laid on the floor, beside the bed, and listened to them, I thought of Dionna. Eventually I had to leave the room, go sleep with Sven.

I have a new partner. His name is Nestor. That's right. Nestor. You got it: Chester and Nestor. You want to make a funny? Don't. Keep it to yourself. He is a rookie. We have a lot of training to do.

Everyone is gone, at work and school. I need a nap. These nights are killing me. I am a day dog. 

Fresh Meat.

Kids and Books

Weredogs have it hard in love.

Weredogs can marry other weredogs. But they cannot have kids. It is not that it is forbidden. It is just that it is not possible. The only way we can expand the weredog ranks is t recruit. 

This causes some weredogs a lot of remorse. Because we love kids. There is no better parent than a weredog. Many weredogs adopt kids. We love to teach kids. Many are teachers. We love to care for kids. Many weredogs are nurses.

It is easier for us to marry people and not other weredogs. The drawback is that eventually we have to disappear, because people age. We do not. I know many dogs who still lament a loved one they had to leave many years ago. Many a weredog broken heart rests on a love centuries gone.

Weredogs are also a somewhat literary bunch. We like to read. And we like to talk about reading, books, language, writing, character, plot, tension, conflict, setting, pacing, structure, style, voice, hooks and endings. One topic of common debate in recent years is whether the predators on the planet Rakhat, in Mary Doria Russel's book, The Sparrow, are canine or feline. The debate always seems spit, some wanting them to be dogs, and others, not comfortable with that idea, want them to be cats (because they are so evil), or anything other than dogs, for that matter. It is often suggested that if they are dogs, the mostly certainly they are wolves, or wolf-like. That always seems to settle it. 

Rex was a teacher. Over his many years he taught many other dogs and kids and young troops. And me. He taught me a lot.  I am still looking for Rex's killers. I am out most nights, at least part of each night, looking for wolf sign. I no longer mean to kill all wolves, just the wolves that killed Rex.

I think about Dionna, how she is, if she would help me. Would she help me find werewolves she knew I meant to kill, to settle a score. I have never known a wolf to betray its own kind. Nor have I ever known a weredog to do the same. But. There are stories. Rumors. Myths. I have no idea what is true, less so know that I have smelled Dionna. I can still remember her scent.

Fresh meat.

The Family

I have neglected blogging about my family for a while. But, I have not neglected my family. No good dog would do that. I have spent enormous amounts of time keeping tabs on Sherry and Jack, and both boys, Rick and Sven. But, not Braden.

Braden in in Iraq, out of my reach. I keep tabs on him by reading Jack and Sherry's e-mails. Mostly Jack's. It is in reading those e-mails that I learned that Braden is Jack's son through a previous marriage. I did not know any of this. Braden is closer to Jack, but close to Sherry. I need to find out what happened to Braden's other, or where she is. A dog needs to know these things. 

Braden is in 2/C/1 of the 2nd Brigade of the 4th ID (2nd Platoon, Charlie Company, 1st Battalion). He is a grunt, infantry, ground pounder, canon fodder, choose your favorite. I have been infantry in several wars in the past century and a half. There is no better way to taste the bitter barbarity of war.  

Braden says he has been through 3 IEDs, with no injuries. Right. I am a dog, but I can read. 1 out of  5 troops coming back from Iraq have PTSD or TBIs, or both, due to having their brains rattled like castanets from the blast of an IED. (Note: PTSD = Post Traumatic Stress Disorder; TBI = Traumatic Brain Injury) I read his messages carefully for signs of either. All I see so far are sign of need for beer and girls. Braden is a big fan and consumer of both. Not too much of either in Iraq, according to Braden, at least on his FOB (base).

He says things are actually better. He says the talk is that it is better now to be in Iraq than in Stan. He says there are fewer prayers prior to patrols and raids. And fewer raids. A newby in his squad complained the other day, asked when he was going to see some action. No one laughed. Everyone just stared at him. Braden told him, "Just wait, kid."

Sven and Rick are both playing hard core football. They are only 7th grade. But they are big, and like to hit. They play on different teams which just happen to have an intense rivalry. They play each other in 2 weeks. The boys have bought into the rivalry at home. Jack has run each one to the ER in the past 3 weeks for stitches. It is always an "accident." But, some accidents are destined. 

Both are now fully into adolescence. I can hear them night pounding away at their puds, and smell it the next morning. They take long showers for the same reasons. If I was not a dog, and fond of licking my own "privates" (but only in dog form, I swear) I might be embarrassed. But, I am not. It is natural and healthy. I am curious to see when they move beyond just texting girls and actually talking to them, tete a tete. 

Jack and Sherry are in a bad place. I worry. Sherry has taken to going out with wild friends. I followed three of them one night to a local "meat market." I don't mean the good kind. I mean the bad. I watched Sherry flirt with several swarmy looking characters. Their voices were like engines needing oil, and they smelled like roadkill that doesn't know to lie down. It took effort to keep my lips from curling. One guy in particular was pissing me off. He kept putting his hand on Sherry's shoulder, and looking down her shirt. There was a target designator, from somewhere, "lighting up" his throat and feeding data back to my teeth. But, to my relief, they all left before too late.

Jack and I have become regulars at Trolley's. We even have our regular stools. This is a sample of recent conversation: 

"I don't want a fair-weather love. I want a woman who will stand by me, who I can stand by, through thick and thin, through the good days and bad. 

"I don't think she is a nice person. And I don't know that she is a happy person."

"You can't just give up."

"Why?"

"The boys."

"I know. That's the hell of it."  He looked at his watch.  "Damn. I got to go home and let the dog out. He's been in all day."

"No, you don't."

"Say what? Why?"

"Oh, uh, trust me. He's fine."

Getting home before him s the trick. I try to take off hen I see he is ready to leave. And since I don't take a car to Trolley's, I am on paw. But, we weredogs are fast. In a race home, I would win. But, I don't stop for lights.

CW

Authentic Howl

All dogs are searching for their authentic howl. All canines, dogs and wolves, coyotes and collies, foxes and poodles, howl. We all do it, regardless of whether we sleep in the couch or not, civilized and wild. Howling is something the canine soul needs. We howl to music. We howl to the moon. We howl to our lovers. We howl to our pain, our sorrows, our regrets, our hungers, our remorse. We howl because we can. Many people would do well to get in some howling, late at night, alone, or with a friend.

Dogs never use the word "domesticated". We prefer "civilized". We have a hard time understanding why people like to categorize us as "domesticated". So, you think we are domesticated? OK. Try driving a couple hundred miles in a Volkswagen with three pit bulls and tell me they are domesticated. 

Even dogs who show a high level of domesticity find it hard, or impossible, to control their impulse to pursue and to kill when a rabbit or squirrel darts with their range of view. 

We dogs, and I count weredogs amongst dogs here, consider ourselves to be walking a thin wire of civilized wildness. Many people I know pride themselves on the same. Jack, for example. 

Jack goes out and howls all the time. I often follow him, to make sure that is all he does, is howl. I have spent many nights sitting on stools letting him howl out his pain to me, how he doesn't know if he loves Sherry anymore, if she loves him, how their fighting is ruining them, how he can't seem to stop it. 

Just got the call. I have to go out and link-up with Sasha and Molly. They think they found something wolfishly suspicious. 

Jason and Jessica, Resuming Ops

Jason and Jessica contacted me several times recently, since returning home. They are inviting me to tactical meetings. They are ready to ramp-up operations this fall. They are insistent. Jason makes cryptic comments about new backers and funding, new equipment, new tactics. I am curious and afraid for them, and for me. Because obviously I cannot ignore them. I have to protect them, go with them to ensure they do not cross certain lines. 

But, the risk is that I will get inside another of those puppy farms and see the conditions those poor children are subjected to, and I might just cross some lines myself. I wish Rex was here to advise me, to tell me to stay away from those two. I know I should. I can't.

We had a pack meeting soon as I got back from vacation. New wolf signs have been detected. It was decided that we must increased night patrols, and recruit. 

Recruit. It always raises such mixed blood in me. It is a hard decision to approach a dog or human about joining, transforming. It is a harder decision to make, to say "Yes". Or "No".

Snuggles Found

This came across my dog radar recently. It is about some people whose dog was dognapped. After several days they found her. Usually these stories do not have such a happy ending. Weredogs will mobilize to aid in search and rescues in such situations, if we find out about them. But, there is a risk - if we find the dognappers first. We are not supposed to harm people, ever, with very strict exceptions. 

I sometimes wonder if these dognappers are often werewolves. I would not be surprised if they are. Safeties are always on with people, always off with werewolves. But, maybe with dognappers they ought to be off. I have to bring that up for discussion before the next grand pack meeting. 

Yes she was found on Sunday, 6 days after she was taken.

Law enforcement believe it is a ring of dog thieves that have been working the Midwest for quite awhile and seem to be very elusive.

Police were able to link her disappearance to a complaint in southern Wisconsin of barking dogs and a lot of "night time" activity. From that complaint they were able to discover the identities of the two people who matched the description of the ones who took her.

They also got a description of the van:

A dark blue panel van late 90's Ford Econoline.

The tag was only a partial IL tag 598-1 ???

From there the trail led to a Flea Market / Swap meet where a different police agency had been gathering info that stolen dogs were being sold..  that lead then developed into some background that the dogs being sold were distributed from a location in the UP of Michigan.

Yet another police agency involved , and located and abandoned barn with about 200 dog kennels. There was evidence of recent activity in the barn..

From there my husband and I took it upon ourselves to canvas the area which is pretty darn remote. We spent over 18 hours Saturday afternoon, evening and on into Sunday driving up and down dirt roads, back into fields you name it we looked there.

Call it Divine providence or intervention but we happened down a very remote road through a stand of trees and found a dump site piled with kennels.

Our Maggie was there, cold, soaking wet and with some minor injuries.

There was evidence that this location has been used many times before.. bodies etc in various states of decay.

This is an on going investigation so I can't be more specific then that until the police wrap things up , hopefully with some arrests.

A little background on the ring itself:

It is believed to be a supplier of dogs to bunchers who sell to Class B dealers for medical research.

They also are believed to supply bait dogs for dog fighting rings and Pit Bull pups as well.

They frequently use vans, pick up trucks and small livestock trailers to transport animals from state to state.

Vans and pickups with camper tops often have the words "ANIMAL RESCUE" "PET RESCUE" or ANIMAL MANAGEMENT - be aware of these vehicles in neighborhoods cruising looking for dogs.

They frequently work in teams, man & woman, or two men.

They also change locations frequently and will use abandoned barns, farms etc to house dogs prior to distribution.