KU professor outlines healthy lifestyle changes that can have positive effects on brain - Kansas City Star

KU professor outlines healthy lifestyle changes that can have positive effects on brain - Kansas City Star

Wish I could get Jack and Sherry to read this. Simple: get more sleep, mores sunlight, better food, regular exercise, and more social interaction. Go figure. 

Chester

Jane Austen and Weredogs

Warin and I surveyed a house tonight. Watched it until 4am, and 2 nights ago also. This house came to the attention of our pack some weeks ago as "A location of interest."  So, we're been keeping an eye on it.

So, we are just sitting there in in a copse of trees and bushes, watching, listening, sniffing, when I look over and Warin is in human form reading Pride and Prejudice. "What the hell are you doing?" I said.

Jane Austen is very popular amongst weredogs. Even I have read a few of her books, seen some movies. I guess we are drawn to the firmness of character of her heroines, the order and propriety of her culture, how Darcy and Wentworth can do what has to be done, but also be gentlemen. 

"I wish I could find my own Elizabeth Bennet," Warin said.

"Great," said I, "my partner is a Janeite with romantic delusions of happiness."

Did I not believe in love and happiness? he said.

I told him my idea of happiness is a large, juicy steak, a warm gun, and a female in heat. 

We would have launched into a impassioned discussion of the redemptive powers of love had not someone come out of the house and walked right toward us. Thank Dog. 

We pulled back and flanked right. Trying hard to control my breathing, we watched while the person walked around where we just had been. He looked up and around. Finally, he walked back into the house. We went back to the spot and sniffed. He left an odd scent. I could not place it.

Sherry is up. I can hear her moving around upstairs. Time to pack this in. For today.

Noses and Neos

I have been out every night since my last post. As soon as I hear everyone is asleep, I slip out, for pack meetings, patrols, visits and updates.

One night I went to the local lab where we took the neo body those months ago, after the ambush at the puppy mill. The weredog who met Warin and I works there as a pathologist. She is a knock out, has an incredible scent that I smelled clearly through the cloud of chemicals. I'd love to see her in dog form. 

Anyway, she said that the autopsy results are very disturbing. For example, the blood is like nothing she has ever seen before. 

"How so?" I asked.

She could not say. Elements of it simply are not identifiable. But, the one thing she does know is that neo's are definitely a new species, a new type animal, and are not entirely mammalian. 

"What are they then?" said Warin.

"I don't know," said the hot pathologist.

Jack is gone everyday. I have no idea where he goes or what he is doing. Need to find out. 

Ricky is at a camp for aspergers kids.

Flecka' nose is worse. Jack had the vet do a biopsy on it. The results say that her nose is being attacked by an autoimmune disorder. That is what is causing her nose to turn green, to crack like porcelain some days, and others to look like it is melting of her face. 

The vet told Jack yesterday that the treatment is steroids. The 2 options for that are pills and topical cream. Steroids will make her incontinent. The cream she will lick off. No idea which way Jack is going to go. I have tried to talk to Flecka about it. But, dogs have a hard time discussing health and medical issues. 

I have been sleeping throughout most days lately. I have to. I get no sleep at night. Have to. I usually slip back in just in time to have one of Jack's beers, catch some ESPN, and shift back to dog before Sherry gets up at 5am to get ready for work. She always walks past me and says, "Lazy dog." I always have an impulse to bite her.

So, now I need to grab some crash.

Coming Down HArd

It is raining here. Hard. Have to go out, meet Warin and another. Going to be wet. That's a problem wet fur is a dead-give-away.

Flecka's nose is falling off. More like it is rotting away. Jack took her to the vet. Twice. They prescribed 2 different antibiotics. Nada. So, last week they did a biopsy. Waiting for results. 

It looks like hell, her nose. And the nose is such a key feature on a dog's face. I have sniffed it a lot, and have not smelled anything like it before. Hope it isn't contagious. 

We have a new dog in the pack. Her name is Barqi. She rarely shuts up, and has decided her mission is to play matchmaker for everyone in the pack. She must be new werefolk. 

I still need to tell about the coyotes and Warin's revelation. Not now. Gotta get out into this deluge. First I got to find Rooster. He is out there somewhere. 

They found the girl. 

Werewolves at the Ranch

The coyotes took me to the werewolf ranch. It was less than a mile. We ran there in dog form. It would have been faster in weredog. But wereform usually spooks coyotes. 

The ranch was tidy, but not to much so. No Martha Stewart here. There was a house, 2 barns and a tractor shed. I smelled various farm animals. But, no horses. It is hard for werewolves to keep horses. 

The scent of werewolf was in the soil. I made the coyotes stop and we watched the house for about 5 minutes. I neither saw of heard or smelled anything move outside or around the house. 

A male answered the door. He was young, wore a soiled John Deere baseball cap. He sniffed at me, nodded, said, "Come on in."

Only the female coyote went in with me. Inside was another male and a female. The female werewolf greeted the coyote warmly in a way that suggested they visited often. 

The coyote explained where she had found me. They asked where I was from. The older male offered me a beer. I accepted. Never turn down a beer from a werewolf. It is very bad form. 

I could tell something was on their minds, that the coyote had brought me here for some reason. I told them that. They all 3 exchanged glances.

The older male said, "Things have changed in these parts." I said, "How?" He said they didn't like going out at night.

My mouth fell open. Wolves and werewolves live for the night. For a werewolf to be afraid to go out at night is very strange. Worse than strange. I asked why. 

"There's something out there," the younger male said. "What?" I said. The 2 males shook their heads. "Something we ain't never caught scent of before," said the female. She was stroking the coyote as the coyote ate from a bowl of meat scraps. 

They told how several years ago things began to change. They had been on that ranch for several decades, living a good life, as ranchers by day, going at at nights as they chose, only taking deer and, mostly, their own stock at night when they felt the need. They never bothered their neighbors, even a couple times warned off or ran off some renegade werewolves who wandered into the area. 

Then about 2 years ago they started smelling something new on the wind. They could not identify it. It was like nothing they had ever smelled before. And they started feeling uneasy nights. Determined, they began going out nights on patrol, to find and put a name to this new scent, this anxiety.

There used to be 4 of them, another female, younger. Six months ago she went out one night, alone, and never came back. They never found any sign or scent of her. 

Now they rarely go out at night.  Several times they have had other werewolves come to help them go out at night in numbers, in pack-strength. But, on those nights they see nothing. They do the same for other werewolves. "Last fall we went to the place of some wolves down by Latham. They had the same problems, had lost some stock, had that scent around, needed some extra muscle and noses." Nothing happened. But when they go back they found something had killed half of their sheep, slaughtered in a very messy manner, as if to send a message. 

I started to worry about Jack and the rest back at camp. I felt the need to bolt and get back there. I knew that Jack kept a .40 strapped to his leg and a 12 ga. with rifle slugs neaby. Even with him being a former Ranger, I was anxious. I needed to be there to back him up.

They said they had been hearing that werewolves and weredogs were talking more, coming together with words, less tooth and claw. They asked me if that was true. I said it was. 

Werewolves are not as well organized and connected as weredogs. It is not their way to be so. They like their solitude, being disconnected, unless amongst their pack. These 3 were feeling the exposure of that.

That is when I told them about the neo's. They all 3 leaned forward as they listened, even the coyote leaned in.

They asked if I could carry their situation to my pack and to other werewolves and weredogs at large. They could also use some support, they said. "If there are any werewolves...or weredogs that would like to come to the country for a spell, we can be hospitable," said the female.

We talked about other things. The older werewolf had fought in Nam. So, we talked of Nam. He was III Corps. I was I Corps. Werewolves don't usually serve in militaries. They have a hard time with authority. He said he turned to werewolf when his unit was wiped out and made his way to Europe, where he lived for a while. So, he was listed as KIA. They never found his body, of course. Said he killed as many VC as he could on his way out of SE Asia. He said he had his fill of killing for quite a while after that. "Man is the ultimate killing machine," he said. "We werewolves don't even come close." I wondered if that was still true, in light of the neo's, but did not say so out loud.

I told them I had to get back. The younger male said, "Yeah, hope your humans are still there to get back to."  The female said it was unlikely they were harmed. Whatever it was that was out there would not likely attack the first night. "It watches a while before it moves in on you," she said.

The 5 of us, me, the 3 werewolves and the coyote, made it back to the camp very quickly, not too long before dawn. I told the werewolves I would relay their info and needs. I had their phone number, gave them mine, told them to get online and get email accounts. They groused at that, but said they would. 

I told the coyote thank you and rubbed noses with her before I slipped back into camp and over to the tent. I sensed them watching. Then they were gone. It was less than 20 minutes before I heard the tear of the zipper and Jack came out of the tent. "Hey, Chester, ol boy," he said. He sat on the ground next to me and put on his boots. "You been running off the coyotes all night? Huh? Good boy."  He massaged my flank some before he stood and went over to get the fire going for breakfast. 

Back in the Groove

Just got home. Started tonight at a pack meeting. Went to a bar afterward. Wound up scouting some areas for neos and werewolves. 

Patrolling and scouting is fun when inebriated. I don't recommend it. I am home now and cannot shift to dog until I drink enough water. Dog physiology does not do well with alcohol. Blessing and a curse.

I have not seen Jack or Shelly smile or give off good vibes or happy scent since the day I got back. They are more miserable than when I left. Not sure what I expected. Jack is still unemployed. Sherry still hates her job, hates getting up in the morning. They talk only when exchanging I-hate-you's. 

There are still werewolves of the old school around, hungry for human blood, wanting to settle some score with us weredogs.

I was told at the meeting tonight that I need to go to the lab where the neo bodies we took at the puppy mill were taken. Maybe next week. Warin will go with me.

Warin told me that he has to tell me something. I told him if he needs to come out of some closet, tell me he is gay, I don't really give a shit. "We all lick our own balls," I said. He said that's not it. 

Earlier this week I followed both Jack and Sherry out. I did not talk with them. Just followed them. Watched. Listened. Sniffed. Ate and drank some. Just a bit. 

Last weekend all of us, minus cats, went to the ranch. Jack's family has a ranch down near Beaumont, Kansas. It used to be his grandad's. They got some horses there, lease the fields and pastures out to nearby ranchers. We all slept in a 10-man tent. Except for me. I always sleep outside. I hate tents, and like to stay out in the open where I can see and smell the area without any nylon obstruction. 

3 coyotes approached the camp. They didn't see or smell me until 1 nearly stepped on me. they were headed for the cooler and the bacon and eggs inside, for breakfast. Jack always makes bacon and eggs, over an open fire, for breakfast at the ranch. I stood - was over a foot taller than all of them, and had the largest outweighed by 40 lbs. 2 of them bolted. 1 stood his ground.

I was amazed, and said, "You're not afraid?"

"You're a weredog," she said.

"A female?"

"Yes."

"What do you know of weredogs?" I said.

"Just what the werewolves told me."

She said there were 3 werewolves living on a nearby ranch. I asked her to take me there. 

More on that later. I got to get some sleep. Right after I try some of Jack's new whiskey. 

War and Kindness

I found something else out on my travels, something very interesting, a little disturbing.

War is the genesis of kindness. It is also what saved the human race. Not sure about dogs.

It is thought that from about 100,000 years ago to just 10,000 years ago the human race did not grow or flourish at all. It is believed that 70,000 years ago there were only around 2,000 humans, due to dramatic climate changes at that time. Man was on the brink of extinction.

Then something happened: War. Warfare broke out between various human species, and amongst tribes and groups within the same species. Remember the long war between neanderthals and homosapiens, the war that weredogs and werewolves chose sides in, that wiped out the neanderthals and nearly wiped out werewolves? Do you recall that it was homosapiens' (modern man) greater ability for communication and coordination that likely led to the demise of neanderthals? Part of what drove that superior coordination - the greater ability to develop early small unit tactics, to plan raids and ambushes, to invent more effective and devastating weapons - was the development of strong social bonds and community.

Stronger tribes had an advantage over weaker tribes. It is true today for communities and countries. Strong communities have stronger commitments within those communities. They look out for one another, stand up for one another, help one another out. Therefore, altruism is not a weakness or wasted sentiment.

Hunting parties have better chances of success than lone hunters. Hunters in parties look out for each other. If one gets hurt the others help him back to the cave or village. The loss of a hunter is a loss to the tribe.

It is the same in war, even today in war. In combat soldiers are bound to the others in their squad, their platoon, their crew, their tribe. Often soldiers sacrifice themselves to save their comrades. It has always been so throughout all wars. Such bonds are seen everywhere, not just with soldiers. You see them in churches and sports teams and neighborhoods and the list goes on. It all depends on who each of us identifies with, how we define ourselves.

Who each of us thinks of in terms of "us" is very important.

Do you also remember all those mass extinctions that have occurred over the past 500 million years, and how half of all living creatures, then living, were lost in 5 of those mass extinctions? We have no idea what other species we have fought across the eons to stay alive. Climate has wiped out many species. But warfare and hunting have taken their fair share. Is that shocking? Maybe. But fighting and hunting have, until very recently, been essential to keeping mankind off the endangered species list, and dogs too. Can't do either of those activities without killing.

Was out again last night. Warin and I did some snooping around. I got home an hour before dawn. Drank 2 of Jack's beers. He didn't notice this morning. The real danger in that is that he will suspect the boys, which is logical. I would hate that. 

I plan to sleep most of the day on my favorite couch. Sherry will know, from my hair, and she will yell at me. I don't care. I need some good rest. 

Chester
chester.weredog@gmail.com

Clarity and Answers

I need to clarify and answer some things

Swiftpaw was incensed about the bounty hunters killing dogs on US FOBs in Iraq. Those weren't Arabs. Those were US contractors, hired in the US and sent over to shoot strays. I know. Don't get me started.

Someone asked what is a "hildelayoth"? It is my understanding that the word is Old English and means death song.

Brandon asked what kind of dog that is in the photo in the Moscow subway. I don't know without asking him. But, definitely looks like a mix to me. 

Someone else sent me an email asking about weresex. I will have to post on that at some point. Sex is sex. But, then again, it is unique for each individual, like fingerprints, and scent.

Tracking Jack

I spent 1 night each, since I have been back, tracking Jack and Sherry. Last Friday night I was on Sherry. Saturday night was Jack.

Both went out with friends to various bars, drank too much, flirted too ambitiously, and returned home way too late. Sherry was flirting with a guy at a bar called Nick & Jakes that looked like a throw-back to the 70s sitcom. I wanted to rip his arms off. Jack was making eyes at a floosy who was wearing enough cheap perfume to gag a maggot. 

Everyone is on edge. There's too much yelling and screaming in the household, too many hurt feelings, to many unnecessary wounds. And too many empty water bowls. OK. There is one water bowl. But it is empty far too often. I fear that Flecka is dehydrating. 

Ours is not the only family. My pack tells me that it is pandemic. Sprint and GM and many other big employers here in KC are laying off and there's no jobs to back fill those that are lost. Tosk, of my pack, says that the father in his family, an experienced DBA, is working at Starbucks.

Also, Jack is buying cheap beer. Very bad sign. I hate cheap beer. And it is a measure of last resort for Jack, I assure you. And it's not like I can buy my own and hide it in the fridge. 

Jack is looking at overseas PMCs, corporate merc work. He sees no other choice. He says he hates the idea, but has to make some money, and would like to "Get the hell out of Dodge" for a while.

Braden  is supposed to return from Iraq soon. His unit is rotating back. Jack is eager to see him back and out of there. 

The boys snuck out the other night. Jack is not aware of this. I am. Great. Now I have to follow them at night, as well as Jack and Sherry. If this trend continues I will never sleep. 

Things Recently Learned

I learned some interesting things during my recent travels, with Ganieda, in the Badlands and in those hills above Ft. Robinson.  And elsewhere.  Here's a sample, and my thoughts.

There have been 15 mass extinctions over the past 500 million years. 5 of those involved the extinction of over half of the species then living. 

Half?!  That's a heck of a lot of extinctions, animals that have gone away never go be seen again. Most we will never know about, because we don't have a clue they ever existed. 

Mass extinctions happen during periods of low global oxygen levels. Right now we enjoy relatively high oxygen levels. 10% drops in oxygen were common during the mass extinctions. 

Regardless of what many say, this planet is warning rapidly and at rates not experienced before. What effect will this have on oxygen levels? No one knows. Admittedly, we are currently in an ice age. Yes. We are. I know. Seems strange. But, we have been so for about 2.5 million years. The question is when will we come out of it and what will result? 

Oxygen an respiration have always been the most important driver on adaptation and evolution. 

Are the Neos a result of these shifts? Will Neos propagate or suffer in low oxygen? And how about us, canines and humans?  How might we adapt and change? Not sure I want to know the answers.

Everyone is gone from the house today. It's just us dogs and cats here. I am in weredog form to type this.  Before I shift back to dog I need to go liberate some leftover flank steak from the back of the fridge. I know it's forgotten. Hate to waste. Flecka and Sparkle can help me in the liberation.

Things Changed At Home

I've been back nearly a week, since last Tuesday. It's good to be back. But, things have changed.

Jack is still without a job. There is more tension between he and Sherry. It smells like No Man's Land between the AEF and German lines in WW1, but without any hint of mustard gas. Both are now deeply depressed. Jack is having anger issues. Sherry grits her teeth when she sleeps. I lay on the floor at the foot of the bed and listen to her do it.

The boys, Rick and Sven are solidly into adolescence now. They are moody and sullen much of the time and are starting to talk back. This adds to the colorful pyrotechnic dynamics of the family. Jack's level of patience right now is like the water level in Death Valley.

Bella died while I was gone. I miss her presence in this house. Flecka seems much older and more tired. But, she has been staying close to me a lot. Sparkle is much larger, and smarter, sometimes too smart for her own good. She keeps bugging me to tell her what all I did while I was gone.  Rooster and Bailey became friends while I was gone. Jack and Sherry still have no idea how Rooster just showed up in our house. But, they've stopped worrying about it.

I have gone out every night since I have been back. Had to - to catch up on pack business and news, on local developments, and to check in with all my dog and weredog connections. This is the first night I will be in all night. I am still tired from my 3-month odyssey . 

OK. I have to sleep. I will pick this back up tomorrow, when I can.