Dog Fighting

Weredogs have always turned a blind eye to dog fighting. It was just something we could not change. I have even known dogs who liked it. But I tended not to turn my back on them.

But dog fighting is on the rise all over, even in the U.S.. Even around here, in Kansas and Missouri. More and more weredogs are talking about it and getting riled about it. And reports are coming back from other parts of the world about dog fighting. They do it a lot in Afghanistan. Weredogs over there, in uniform and out, are feeling pulled to do something.

Interceding on puppy mills kind of opened the door for weredogs to interfere in the affairs of people. I am seeing more and more such interference in other matters. This coincides with the appearance of Neo's.

Another form of canine brutality is pen fighting. It is legal in Florida and several other states, but done also in Missouri. It amounts to putting wild foxes and coyotes in a pen with dogs that then tear them to shreds. Bets are made on how long the smaller fox or coyote will last, or which dog will make the killing strike. I cannot see the sport in this. Much talk amongst weres about this, even amongst werewolves, who usually maintain an attitude of "To hell with everyone else as long as they don't come after me."

But it is hard not to see the connection between these pits and other forces at work in the world, which even werewolves cannot ignore, especially in their new era of alliance and connection, with weredogs, dogs, and other canines, and humans. There seems to be forces working counter to these new forces of connections amongst and between people and dogs and all species. There are reasons for this that I will share, that I have learned in my recent travels. I came to realize they are also behind my reasons for starting this blog. At the time I thought I was doing it for entertainment. Come to find out, I was not.

Love Triangles

I am always surprised by all the excitement people sometimes fuel up over movies. This recent, I think 3rd, Twilight movie, Eclipse, or whatever, just came out or is coming out. People are going nuts. Mostly teenage girls and middle-aged women. But I don't get it. Even some of the female members of my pack seem to be drawn by this story.

The gist is this girl, Bella, is in love with a vampire and a werewolf, and torn between both. Can someone explain to me how anyone could be torn in that decision? On one hand you have sex with a a canine, a wolf, with whom there is no risk that he or she will rip out your neck in the throes of passion. Sure, sex with a werewolf involved a lot of howling and growling. But who doesnt like that?

On the other hand is sex with a flying rodent who in all likelihood will rip out your neck when he or she reaches or approaches orgasm. Not my idea of a good time.

And take my word, sex with a canine is fantastic, especially werefolk. But then I might be a bit biased. Hey, I've never had any complaints, from members of either species.

So can someone explain to me the whole bat thing? What is up with that?

The other part of this story/movie is how they portray the werewolves. In these movies they simply look like very large wolves, like boreophagus probably looked back when they ruled the land, those millions of years ago. Why did they do that? Weredogs think it is because they could not come up with a werewolf look that was not too scary. Unfortunate, since werewolves, in wereform, can be very attractive, just as is the case, of course, with weredogs.

This movie has a climactic battle between bats...sorry, vampires, and werewolves. I might have to rent it someday so I can see that.

I know this is all fantasy. People that change into bats, or vampires, or whatever. Ridiculous. I know. Oh well. People need their monsters, their horrors, their night terrors. Just like they need Jerry Springer and The National Enquirer. Now there is something I really do not get. But don't think I want to.

Oh. Love trianlges. Right. I have had a few of my own. Maybe I will tell the stories of some, someday.

Cat Swagger

We have a new kitten. Don't ask why. His name is Chase. He is the most canine acting cat I have ever known. He is more social, acrobatic and aggressive than any cat I have known. He follows all of us around like a puppy. He loves Flecka's tail. He jumps on my back and head all the damn time. He drives me nuts. But I love him.

And Chase has swagger. And I mean swagger. Never seen a cat with swagger. He is a swagger cat. He is coming up on 4 months. He is going to be a big cat. I hope he doesn't lose his swagger. It will serve him well, in some respects. They just started letting him outside recently. His swagger is more.

Watching him got me thinking about swagger, and the attitude that goes with it. I don't think swagger can be taught. You are born with it. Or not. This is true for all species. Humans value it highly. A swagger says to all, "Hey. Mess with me at your own risk."

I have seen individuals develop swagger. It comes only with change of attitude, a jump in self-confidence. The individual stand straighter, taller, throws his or her chest out more, moves his legs with more muscularity and purpose. "Move with a purpose" is something that was said in the Army for a very long time. Don't know if they still say that. But a relaxed purpose and confidence is allot of what swagger is about.

Rooster and Bailey do not go outside much anymore. They used to, a lot. Rooster has spent much of this life as a stray. Bailey started out as a stray. Jack found her as a 10-month old kitten. But, both are older, slower. Their need to hunt is no more. They want more now to find the perfect napping spot, on a bed or couch or stack of clean laundry. They used to have, but no longer have, their swagger.

I went out looking for Chase, late one night, last week. It was after 3am. He was not in the house. I worried. Went looking. Found him sitting with 3 werewolves in the side of the house. They were there to see me, seemed mesmerized by him. "This your cat?" one of them said. I said it was. "Damn," he said.

They gave me what they had to give me. Told me what they had to tell me. Then they left. But not before each of them leaned in and sniffed Chase. He batted each of their noses. Did not flinch. I was proud. I love this kitten. He's got swagger.

Sarah

OK. I need to tell the story of Sarah, or whom I have mentioned many times. Here it is.

Before I was a weredog, when I was still a young dog, I lived with the Masons in the American wilderness, on a remote farm. My job was to protect the few sheep and one cow that we had, to alert to any human or other animal threats that got in close enough to be aware of, and to provide companionship for the family.

Sarah was one of the daughters. She cared for me, watched out for me, made sure I got my share of scraps, that I did not spend all winter outside, that I occasionally got to sleep in a bed, hers and her sister's, Margaret. Sarah was seventeen. Her scent was a strong part of my world.

It was a good life. We had a comfortable and spacious cabin, a large family to tend to all the chores, and enough food, due to crops, livestock and hunting.

Then the war came, that which is known now as the French and Indian Wars.

The indians who found me were a tribe of weredogs AND werewolves. It was a tenuous balance. They were later wiped out by white expansion. They nursed me back to health, my indian saviors. The only way to do that, due to the seriousnes of my wounds, was to change me, offer me weredom.

Those of that tribe who survived white expansion were dispersed into the local white population, as dogs and people. I am still in contact with two of them.

Sarah's body was never found. I never knew if she lived or died. I searched, but never found any trace or sign of her.

I caught glimpses of her over the years, wisps of her scent. As time passed it became clear she had become were. As dog or wolf, I did not know. I assumed wolf, for several reasons.

I thought I found her in New York in the 1830s, then during the civil War (American), one other time. Then I lost her scent. I nearly caught up with her in France, during WW1. Then again in the 30s, in South America. Then nothing, until Vietnam. That is a long story. And then nothing until I caught her scent again here, last year.

I was always certain she was alive. I just knew. But, I had no idea if she was a weredog or a werewolf. For many years that was a problem, due to the war and my vow to kill all werewolves. But this new threat and alliance has changed all that, of course.

So, she is here. Somewhere. Close. And I think Jason knows.

Neos and Fundies

New wereintel shows that Neo's are leading extremist, fundamentalist sects in every religion.

The Al Qaida is led by neo's. Their aim is not conversion of all mankind to their way of thinking, but the destruction of all mankind.
A very old wolf told me this last spring in the Black Hills.

And it is not just the Al Qaida. She said it is the same for all human fundamentalist religions, including Christians. She said that
Christianity is on par with Islam in the number of neo's they have leading and deceiving people. There are Christians who look forward to the Apocalypse, some of whom are even working toward that, to hasten the Second Coming, the return of Christ.

This might always have been the case, going back to the Middle Ages, longer. At the approach of 1,000 A.D. there were many Christians that promoted anarchy in the name of Apocalypse. I am told a large number of werewolves were Viking leaders who capitalized on that confusion. It is said there were also many cardinals and bishops who did the same. Not all. Just the corrupt ones.

I have learned much in the last year about werewolf history with the Vikings. Those werewolves of you reading this, it is not slander. You will probably howl with pride. Remember I posted about "waerwulfas" a while back? Vikings often scared opponents right off the field of battle. They did so with their show of force, howls and screams they made, overall horrifying behavior. That was all werewolf influence. Even the humans learned to act like werewolves. It helped them get psyched up for battle, as well as scare the crap out of their opponents. That is from Viking and were lore.

Werelore says that there were several battles in Anglo-Saxon Britain, between various forces, that were all or nearly all weredogs and werewolves. That had not happened since the time of the human-neander war, and has not happened since, far as I know.

Vikings were not bent on destruction. Their goal was plunder. Later it was commerce. They just wanted to make a buck. Er, profit. Bring some manna home to mama. The Islamic fundies don't want profit. They want destruction.

It would make sense that the Taliban in Afghanistan is led by Neo's.

Getting weredogs, or even werewolves, into this ranks has proven problematic. Neo's can detect scent as well as we can. Better, for all we know.

Weredog Avenger in Stan

There is a female weredog creating a stir in Stan. Seems she has gone a bit rogue. I don't have details, or a name, but the werenet is alive with chatter about this dog.

The word is that she has gone outside weredog protocol and is avenging Taliban crimes against girls and women. She has recruited other females and female weredogs, and werewolves, to join her operations.

They get wet mostly at night, of course. What surprises me is that, supposedly, she is not military. At present. That does not mean she has not been military in the past.

Weredogs are divided on whether she is hero or villain. She is breaking rules. But she is avenging very evil wrongs. We, weredogs, are sworn not to take sides in human wars. This has been violated regularly over the centuries. But not much in the last century. We do not have a dog in this fight, pardon my pun, between the Christian West and Islam.

We do have issue with humans that butcher and torture kids. We like kids. All dogs like kids. Some of the brutalities performed against children, especially girls, over there, in Stan, has moved some weredogs enough to say "To hell" with traditional dogmas concerning interfering with human affairs.

Word is she severed communication and connection with her pack. That is usually bad news. Word is she has assembled a small, ragtag pack of weredogs, werewolves, dogs and women and is expanding her operations against the Tallies. I would like to meet this dog.

Animal-Cruelty Syndrome

3 weredogs and 1 werewolf have contact me in the last 2 days about this article.

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/13/magazine/13dogfighting-t.html?ref=magazine

This issue has tormented dogs, including weredogs, and many other species, for a long time. How can mankind, we have asked oursleves, and each other, be so cruel, and yet so kind?

Most dogs just turned from the issue, shook their heads, and said, "That is man. C'est la vie."

But werefolk are finding hope in this trend to connect animal cruelty and human cruelty, to show that cruel people are cruel, to all, that violence is violence. The problem is that man, and dog, and wolf and all species, have capacity for violence, It is essential to survival. But none have as strong and twisted a tendency as man. Cats sometimes play with their prey before they kill it. But they do not put heads on pikes or light 'em up to watch them burn.

WereDentist

I went to the dentist today. Everyone was gone for the day. So I was able to slip out and make the appointment. Was not easy. Had to drag myself there. Still very sore from wounds.

Dr. Fangman is a weredog, of course, and has done special training so that he can work on human and canine teeth, and the teeth of weres. It takes some time, seeing a weredentist. He has to check your teeth in all 3 forms. Fortunately, he has a TV hung over the chair. So I watched ESPN most of the time.

"Have you ever worked on a werewolf?"

He said his werewolf business has been picking up a lot lately. I asked if he knew why. He said it is a result of weredogs and werewolves coming together more lately. Lots of changes. One of those is werewolves thinking more about dental health. After all, what is a werewolf with his or her teeth? Or with bad teeth?

Dr. Fangman said that a werewolf had recently come to him and between x-rays had told him that years ago he was pillaging a remote farm, just taking some chicken and sheep, when he came face to face with the young wife of the farmer. She screamed when she saw him, as he was in wereform. He opened his mouth to snarl, to hopefully influence her to pass out, so that he could finish with his biz and get out of there. When he did the woman stopped screaming and said, "Eeeeewwwwww!!! I've seen better chompers on a rotten corpse!"

He was so embarrassed that he left without any chickens, left the area entirely, and never went back to that farm. "See how important dental hygiene is?" said the doc. I ventured that knowing werewolves the way I do, and canines in general, that part of his departure might have been that he was attracted to the young wife and nurturing plans to seduce some dark night. The doc conceded that might have also been the case.

I hope Jack and all are gone during most of the days this week. Like today. I need to get much done, and cannot do it when they, or any of them, as here, home.

Squatters

I just got a call. There is a situation up north, in KC, KS, that I have to help with this week.

No idea where my family went to. They bolted out of here this morning and I have no idea where.

The situation up north is that a member of the pack up there has gotten involved with a bunch of squatters that are living in an old, abandoned, rather large house. They have been fixing it up, making repairs. But they look and smell like a small herd of musk ox. Very shaggy and tattered.

A judge was going to evict them. They are, in the eyes of the law, trespassing. But the property has ben abandoned for 2 decades. Days before he court-ordered eviction the neighbors, around the property in question, went to and pleaded with the judge not to kick the kids out. Most of them are in their 20s.

This is happening in cities al over the U.S., in cities with high property abandonment rates. Judges are ignoring the letter of the law and allowing squatters to stay in houses that they are improving. Not in all cities and cases. But in many.

The situation up north here is that the freegan squatters have been given a deadline and list of improvements that must be met for them to be able to stay. That is why Salis called me, because they are in risk of not making the deadline and I have some skills that can help them. So I will.

Salis says these are good kids. She has a loyalty to one or some or all of them. Not sure which. I will find out, I'm sure. She said not to be surprised at the condition of the house. "Think chic poverty," she said. Can't wait to see that. And her herd of oxen.

I cannot decide if this squatting trend defies or supports the idea that "possession is 9/10s of the law."

This will require that I slip away for a day. Hopefully not more. That will probably mean pissing off Jack. I have "run off" some many times in the past year that I think he is ready to string me up. Bad place to be with Jack. But sometimes such things cannot be helped.

The photo above is not the house, but is similar in size and setting.

There are some things I need to pickup. So, hopefully, I will be able to do that while I am out and about on this house run. You cannot buy .40 cal. ammo at night. And it has gotten so damned expensive.

Jack and Fleck

Jack was home tonight. Sherry went out with the girls. He is in bed. She is still not home. It is after 2am.

Flecka is tired. I can smell it on her. Her body is giving out. I can smell that. I can smell her pulse slowing, her metabolism slowing, her confusion and her exhaustion.

Doubt me? I smell everything. I can smell when a dog is scared. And people. Human emotions have the strongest scent of any species. Those who try to control and master their emotions have the strongest smelling emotions. Fear and anger and lust and such have the strongest scent. They have a strong musky smell, sometimes a bit sour, even putrid.

Love has a sweet smell, like a mix of vanilla and lavender. But that is just me. When I tell that to other dogs, weredogs and werewolves, they always say it smells like something else.

Jack and Flecka have a strong connection. When she goes he is going to hurt bad. He lets her out each night between 2300 and midnight, to do her business. If he forgets, or is not home, she shits somewhere in the house, wherever she is sleeping. Tonight he let her out and instead of walking around the front yard, she just went out about ten feet and plopped down in the grass, too tired to walk or sniff or poop. Jack stood there for a while. I watched from the front windows. Then he sauntered over and sat down next to her. And they stayed there a while, nearly midnight, the two of them, in the middle of the front lawn, not moving, sniffing the air and checking the sky. Kids were driving by, on their ways home, blaring music. None of them saw Flecka and Jack.

I have to wrap this up. Got a meeting to make, of weredogs and werewolves. Neo news. I can't bloody wait.

I just Flecka a sniff. She is fine, for tonight. Jack too, although a bit heavy with the scent of beer. I think I will help myslef to one of his beers when I get back tonight. The way he was putting them down, he will never know.

Hunting at Night

This morning was beautiful here in KC. Flecka and I drug our sorry asses out onto the deck to lay in the sun while Sherry and Jack read the paper. The sun's morning heat made my coat feel perfect, like I was being massaged by millions of tiny fingers. That will not be the case later in the day, when it is hotter.

Flecka is good today. Her scent is healthy. She moves well. Still, I worry about her. I never get used to watching those I love diminish with age.

I went out last night. Probably not wise. But had to make a pack meeting, then to sniff around. There is a strange scent around the house lately. I do not know it. And I do not like it. And night is the time to look into such things.

Predators hunt at night. Ffor millions of years predators have hunted at night. Some key reasons for this are that prey often do not have as good night vision. And it keeps them out of the heat, which equates to energy conservation. Less calories are lost at night, in hot environs. And scent stays fresh longer in the cool of the night. It burns off and goes stale faster in the heat of day.

Warin, contact me. We need to talk. Call me if you must. Convey to Ganieda my regards and upmost respect.

Graphic Numbers

A former pack-mate sent me this.

Some of these images are lovely, until you see the up-close shots and understand their message.

http://www.chrisjordan.com/current_set2.php

These sorts of things are impacting weredog thinking. Traditionally we have stayed out of these issues. But this sort of thing is making us nervous. And werewolves. And many other species.

A New Plan to Stop Animal Abuse

An animal abuser registry?

More and more weredogs are getting on board the animal abuse wagon. I am not certain, but it is possible that there is likewise an increase in the numbers of people caring about abuses of people, and animals.

www.parade.com/news/intelligence-report/archive/100516-a-new-plan-to-stop-animal-abuse.html

My experience has been that people who abuse or torture animals, dogs, cats, whatever, pose the same dangers toward other people. All are psychotics, or some such, to some extent. Happens in dogs too. And they are usually "put down." Cruelty does not differentiate between species.

Blackwater Up for Sale

This is pretty big news. Blackwater/Xe going down could mean the end of this recent corporate merc phase and flood.

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/09/us/09blackwater.html?om_rid=C05xq-&om_mid=_BMD4QyB8LMQaIA&

Actually, Xe is being sold. No telling what is in store for them and their assets in the short and long term. Will be interesting to watch the other players, big and small, in this "industry" to see what happens.

I have never liked the idea of mercs. It distorts and warps the concept of soldiering.

Coyote Play Bark: Dinner Bell

People have been talking about and reporting an odd barking they are hearing nights around here. They wonder what kind of dog it is. It is not a dog. Coyotes.

Coyotes have a play bark with which they call to dogs, to come play with them. When the dogs show up they kill them, and eat them. Unless the dogs are too big and mean. Then they coyotes just disappear. People do the same thing, I notice. Especially in business. Jack has responded to many coyotes of late, showing up to play, then getting eaten alive. He has gone through a lot of capital that way in the last few years.

Our pack has ben trying to get the word out to dogs, about the coyotes' play bark, to be advised, and not become coyote chow. Don't worry about the coyotes. There are enough rabbits, coons and possums around here for them to feast on.

Anger Issues

Jack and Sherry are overwhelmed with anger. They rage at each other, everyone else, themselves, all the time. I can always feel it coming, smell and sense when their pulse starts to shoot up, their arteries begin to constrict, get as tight as guitar strings, testosterone begin to surge, cortisol receding.

Financial pressures and job woes and plunging markets and economies and worries about the EU and the war and impending terror attacks and lack of health insurance and depleted retirement accounts and kids that use "fuck" in every sentence and people and dogs who never shut up. It all adds up to pressure. And anger.

Anger is a survival emotion. Many thousands of years ago it motivated people to prevail against odds, rise up and do what had to be done to survive, instead of cowering in the cave and awaiting eventual doom. Back then you got pissed, grabbed your spear, and went out and got you a mastodon, and then ate well for a month.

But how that plays out today is the same story of how other emotions has adapted to the modern world, become problematic. Greed is another example. 30,000 years ago greed was not a problem. It kept you alive. But now, in this modern world of over-abundance, is is somewhat of a problem. Greed is at the heart of most of the corporate and governmental corruption in the world today. And yesterday, for that matter. And anger and greed are drinking buddies. They stoke each others fire.

One thing all this anger is not good for is the family. Rick and Sven pay the price for the angst-infested household. They are being taught anger. Not good. A person needs to be able to get hot, but then to cool down. Dogs are good at this. Even we weredogs are much better at it than humans. Cats are terrible at it. They carry grudges forever.

I worry about Sven and Rick. Adolescence is hard enough without all this angst and anger. But I don't know what to do for them. I am just the dog.

If not for our alternating phases, of human then dog, we weredogs would probably burn out much sooner, much like humans. There is a regenerative facet to our shifting. Part of that regeneration is forgetting. Or maybe losing is a better word. Dog memory is different from human memory, just as dog psychology is a different maze
altogether.

The anger is this house is beginning to affect me. I may have to switch over to dog phase sooner than planned. And it is not just this house. I smell it in most of the the houses around here. Most dogs tell me the same stories in their homes, with their humans.

I miss snappy, hoppin music. It used to play all the time in this house. Not any more. I wonder if it is the same in other houses. I need to ask around.

I'm Here

OK. I am alive, and back here in the house.

I had to go on the road for a while. And soon as I got back I got messed up a bit and some convalescence was required.

My family, Jack and Sherry and the boys, are in crisis. Braden and Tyler are both struggling with their demons. And Flecka's health is not good. And when I got back this last time I come to find that we have a new kitten who is like no cat I have ever known before.

Warin too Caitlyn to see Ganieda, the wise old dog near Reno. I have been finding things out that are rocking my world. Nothing is as it seems.

I do not hate wolves. No way. Not any more. Yes, I used to have a sworn blood vendetta against all werewolves. All weredogs did. (All werewolves, not all wolves.) But no more. I would be dead if not for some werewolves, several times over. And worse, I am in love with a werewolf. That's right Dionna. I announce it to the world. I know you will read this.

I am still careful around werewolves I do not know. There are still many who harbor the old ways of thinking, who are not aware of this war with the neo's in which we and they are united. The same is true of weredogs. Some would rather stay the fight against werewolves than face the neo threat. Change is too hard for some.

The Special Forces Association National Convention is this week at Ft. Bragg, North Carolina. Dog, I wish I was there. I have not been to Bragg in a long time. I would love to be with my SF brothers, if only for a day and night.

More to come. Lots of info and insights and conflicts to share. Everyone is sounds asleep. I can smell and hear their deep slumber. I plan to be up all night tonight.