WereComic

This is great.  Seems to be a weredog and werewolf playing tag. 

Maybe there is some hope for weredogs and werewolves getting along.  Afterall, it always starts in the comics, doesn't it?  However, playing tag is one thing, ending a war that has lasted eons is another. 

Stray Dogs Hunted

This was in the paper yesterday.

Stray dogs terrorize Baghdad

By SAMEER N. YACOUB

The Associated Press

BAGHDAD | Baghdad authorities have announced a campaign to kill stray dogs who roam the Iraqi capital in packs.

http://www.kansascity.com/news/iraq/story/904220.html

Chester:  They're hunting dogs in the streets of Baghdad.  As I said, more stray dogs means more anti-dog sentiment.  Anywhere.  Everywhere.  Dogs without homes, without humans, revert to their wilder, primal state, in order to survive.  Humans do the same.  And yes, this primal reversion is somewhat of a de-evolution to wolfishness, a problematic discussion for many weredogs.

This also was in the paper yesterday:

Dog saves family from fire but loses his life

By GLENN E. RICE

The Kansas City Star

Three years ago, Jennette Gonzalez rescued a stray dog that had been left for dead amid the trash and debris in a bin at a Camden Point gas station.

On Friday, Rex, a bullmastiff-Rottweiler mix, returned the favor with his life.

"He was what saved us," said Gonzalez's daughter, Abril Holguin, 17. "If it was not for Rex, we would not be alive right now."

About 2:30 a.m., as flames ripped through the family's Dearborn home, Rex frantically tried to wake up Gonzalez.

http://www.kansascity.com/115/story/903467.html

Chester:  So, what we have here is a dog who was stray, who was adopted by people, given a home, and gave his life for the people who took him in.  Some people, many cultures, do not understand the power of that, of dog loyalty.  

Chester

chester.weredog@gmail.com

Jack Unemployed

Jack was laid off from Sprint. It was several weeks ago. I didn't
even know. I don't think the boys know. I hope Sherry does. I found
out the other day.

He is messing up my routine, up late, nights, and around the house
during the day. He is making it hard for me to stay on top of
communications and investments. On the other hand, I am still sore
and recovering from the Halloween adventure. And the camp out. And
LeLoup.

Jack is scared. I can tell. I can smell it. And he is not a man who
scares easily. Many are in the same situation, around here, and all
over the country, the world. This will result in several certain
outcomes.

1) War, bigger than the one we are currently in. Was is always the
proven pressure valve for tensions from economic hard times. When the
people are really pissed off, give them an enemy bent on their total
destruction and a war to eradicate that enemy, and cull the ranks of
angry citizens.

2) Strays, there will be more, mostly dogs, but other animals as
well. As a result, we will se a rise in anti-dog sentiments.

3) Crime will be up. Many criminals will be vets.

4) Increase in government power. Don't blame Obama. It has been
happening ever since World War 2.

5) Werewolves will make their move.

This will be a time when we, weredogs, will do a fair amount of
scouting and recruiting candidates. The werewolves will too.

If I can, I need to help Jack find a job. I have connections.

Chester
chester.weredog@gmail.com

Ranch Trip, Part 2: Leloup

Never finished this story.

Soooooo, there we were, sitting in Leloup, Kansas, surrounded by werewolves, Jack, Brendan, Rick, Sven, Belle, Flecka and me.  

Jack and Brendan were tired form the long, cold night.  Sven and Rick mostly slept through it.  But, Jack and B were not on the ball as much as normal for them.  Brendan was probably still a bit fatigued from Iraq and the flight home, and the impending flight back over there within the next week.  

Jack, B and the boys all got out and headed into a little Bar-B-Q joint called the Carrion Cafe.  Jack pointed at the sign and laughed.  Brendan said, "Wonder what they use for sauce."

Soon as they were inside I said, "I'm going in."  I told Bella and Flecka to stay put, keep the doors locked, not let anyone in.  

"I smell wolf. Strong," said Bella.  She was shaking violently.  She did not want to stay in the vehicle.  Flecka whined loudly.  I told them they had to, that it was too dangerous.

Behind the Carrion was another street. On that street were some houses, a small car and truck garage.  Sounds of welding and the tinking sounds of someone beating on metal came from within. A 2-story white building was just down from the garage.  A sign on the front said LeLoup Meat Processing.  I had no doubt.  I went around back of the building and let myself in.

Even though it was a few weeks prior to deer season, there were deer hanging around the kill room in various stages of slaughter.  Cows too.  Pigs.  Lots of pigs.  The coppery smell of blood was nearly as string as the musty smell of wolf.  The thought occurred to me that there had to be no one better than a wolf for butchering meat. 

"You here for the 8-point buck?"  I looked up and saw a guy in a bloody apron.  He was wiping his hands and smiling at me.  "You ain't a deputy are you?"  He laughed.  "Would hate for a constable to find these deer."  He slapped one of the gutted and dressed deer, gleaming red and white in the dull light. 

"My guess," I said, "is that the sheriff does some poaching and is one of your more regular customers."

The guy laughed.  "You're no rookie."  I told him 'No,' the 8-pointer was not mine, that I dropped off a 6-pointer the day before.  "Can't say I recall that one," he said.  "Let me go check the log."

He walked out and I walked on.  

Maybe being surrounded by all that raw meat made me dizzy and unfocused.  Maybe it was fatigue from being up and cold most of the previous night, or the brush with the cougar, or Rick laying on me during most of the drive that day from the ranch.  Whatever the reasons, I did not notice them until they were all around me.  

"What do we have here?" said one.  They all were werewolves.  I smelled it immediately.  But, all four were in human-form.

"Looks like a trespasser," said another.  They closed in, tightening the circle around me.  One was in woman form.  Three were men.  They all were within weredog arms reach.  But I was as a man.  

They were feeling cocky.  I could smell it, see it in their smiles.  The smiles faded when snarling and barking erupted in the large room and echoed off the walls and sides of beef.  

I'll finish this story another time, soon.  Got to get some sleep.  We're going to the dog run first thing in the morning.  I want to be up for it.  Never know what cute bitches will be there. 

Ranch and LeLoup, Part 3

So, there are I was, surrounded by werewolves in a slaughter house. I was about to make my move when loud barking erupted from my left.  

"What the hell?" said one of the werewolves. All of them flinched with uncertainty.

The barking and snarling was coming from Bella and Flecka.  Both my girls have ferocious barks.  But, you know the old saying.  It's true with them.  They would be no help in a fight.  But the wolves didn't know that. Flecka in particular can shake shingles off of roofs with her bark, especially when food is involved.  And, apparently, werewolves.  I hadn't known.  I could smell new fear coming off the werewolves. Bella was also snarling and barking in a way that left no doubt she was ready to get to it.  One of the werewolves was staring at Bella with an incredulous look on his face. 

"If you have any thoughts of fear for me," I said, "then you really better not piss her off, because she rules our house."

"Wait. Isn't she just a dog?" said the female werewolf.

"Just?" I said.  "Yeah. You keep thinking that."  I moved slowly into an attack stance.

"Hold on. Just hold on," said the female werewolf.  "Everyone calm down.  We mean you no harm."

That took some seconds to sink in.  "Go on," I said.

"We mean you no harm, really" she said again, slowly this time.  "Matter, of fact, you are welcome here, anytime.  Matter of fact, come with me. Bring your friends."

I motioned for Bella and Flecka to follow.  "But, stay close," I said.  "Keep it tight." They fell in right behind me, left and right, a tight wedge. I do not remember ever teaching them that.

Two of the werewolves pealed off and were gone.  The other two, one was the female, led us to an old elevator and motioned us in.  I did not sense or smell deception or danger on them.  The female, especially, was very open and friendly.  And very good looking.  Not that that is relevant.  But you can never overlook that.

The elevator rumbled down about 100 feet before it lurched to a stop.  The male werewolf slid open the two doors.  The girls and I stumbled out, our mouths hanging open.

The room was the size of a high school gymnasium.  Gaming tables covered most of the floor.  Bars ran along all four walls.  Large paintings and photos of mountains and woods hung on the walls.  Dark, lush, red drapes hung from the ceiling.  Tree trunks stood like columns all around the room, amongst the tables and at the walls. The tantalizing smell of meat hung in the air like a mountain mist. My mind raced from something to say.

"What is this place?" I finally managed.

"Welcome to Casino Canine," said a female, smiling, barely able to contain herself.

"Diella," I stammered. 

"Surprised to see you too. Come on." She led across the floor. Most of the tables had players and eaters.  Instead of drinks at the card tables, like in human casinos, all the players had either ribs or various cuts. One guy was leaning back, chewing on a nearly-rare prime rib, while he contemplated his hand. 

Bella and Flecka were ushered a short distance away, to where I could clearly see them, and given plates of chopped sirloin.

Diella led up half a dozen steps to a table that gave a good view over the floor.

"Nice place," I said.

"This place is for wolves . . . and dogs," she said. "We hope that we all can come together here, have some fun, resolve differences."  She explained that the entire town was werewolves, everyone in it.  They only sought to live their lives in quiet.  She said werewolves tend not to live in cities. There are exceptions, she said. Several current CEOs are werewolves. But, on the whole, werewolves like space and clean air.  "There's a much bigger population of us in Montana and Wyoming," she said.  "There's two werewolves in the Montana state legislature right now. Next election we might get in a third."

"So, you established this town, or took it over, just to live quietly and peddle bar-b-q?" I said. "I don't buy it."

"There is another part of our mission here."

"What's that?"

"To prepare for our survival," she said.

She explained there is a new species of hominid on the scene that mankind is not even aware of.  Partly this is because the new species blends in with mankind. "We think there must also be a new species of canine," she said. "We want to draw them here, get a sniff of them, check them out, see what they are about, if they are friend or foe. And we need your help. We need dogs t throw in with us on this."

I asked her if she knew how long weredogs and werewolves have been at war. She said she does. She said if we are to survive we must. I asked if she really thought the threat was that serious. She said she does, that all werewolves do, and that many weredogs are beginning to also see it and understand this new threat.

"If what you say is true," I said, "then we are doomed. Man is doomed, just as he doomed the Cro's."

She reminded me that wolves are still around, even though the Cro's are long gone. "We never wanted this war," she said. "All we have ever wanted was to be left alone. It is you, dogs, who have always believed your survival required our extermination."

"That is the way of Nature," I said, "for a new dominant species to replace the older dominant species. But, replacement must be complete, total." 

"Mankind better hope you're wrong," she said.

We talked only minutes more about details of how weredogs ad werewolves might work together before there was a yipping nearby.  She then turned to me and said, "You need to go. The humans you came with are nearly done eating. You three better return to your vehicle."

That was easier said than done. I spent three precious minutes standing next to Flecka, saying, "Flecka, for Dog's sake, we really need to go. Come on."

We barely made it back to the vehicle before Jack and the boys. Flecka and Bella were still panting. Jack and the boys all piled into the vehicle, grunting and groaning about how full they were, how good the bar-b-q was.  

"Hey, dogs," said Sven.  "Have a good nap?"  

Flecka belched and farted at the same time.

Werewar

Several have let me know in e-mails that they do not like my attitudes
about werewolves, that all are not the same. One, Connie, said that
my glorification of war, violence, and wiping out wolves is not
appropriate, especially now.

Please, understand. I do not like violence or war. No do I have any
problems with wolves, just werewolves. And you have to understand I
have been fighting and hating werewolves a very long time, often with
other dogs that have been at it much longer than me.

I am ready to entertain the prospect that all werewolves are not the
same, just as all weredogs are not cut from the same hide. But,
weredogs ad werewolves have ben at war a very long time.

A species has gone extinct in the time we have been at war, one that
played a role in the early days of the war. This war has been going
on longer than any of these human wars. In contrast, the Jews and
Christians have been at it only about 2,000 years. The Christians,
Jews and Muslims only a couple hundred years, or 1,000 years,
depending on when you date the start of that religious goat
fornication, either the Crusades or western colonialism of the
Victorian Age. That is nothing.

Do I not recognize the significance of my recent meetings and
attractions to 2 female werwolves? Yes. I do. But, keep in mind
that I am male in all 3 forms, and thus weak to the allures of
females, in either form. People are no different. Women love bad
boys, guys they know are bad for them, who they often sense or know
are evil. Men like bad girls, girls who you absolutely do not want to
take home to meet Mama.

Weredogs and werewovles have been known to interbreed. It is
biologically possible, just like dogs and wolves. But, it is not
something we talk about. At least not openly. So, there can be
attraction between weredogs and werewolves. I have even heard rumors
that there are weredogs who are into werewolf porn. As disgusting as
that sounds, I understand it, on some level.

There was also interbreeding between man and neanderthals back before
their war started. But, keep in mind, times were different. One
needed to be in a pack or tribe to survive. One needed to breed, to
pass on skills and wisdoms. Even after the man-neanderthal war broke
out, interbreeding supposedly occurred. But, I was not there. I only
know what I know about that time from werelore.

I have carried sword and 16 in this war. I have used claw and
claymore. I have fought and killed dogs and men of every breed. Yes,
I have killed dogs. And weredogs. It happens. And it is not
something we like to talk about. War is a messy business. We do not
like war, but realize that sometimes it must happen. And our alliance
with mankind requires that we support them when they needs us. When
duty calls, we must answer.

Duty is important to a dog, dog and weredog alike. Some accuse dogs o
being blindly obedient. That is not true. It is not obedience, but
loyalty, that drives our sense of duty. The good of the pack
supersedes the good of the individual. And there are many types of
packs - families, companies, battalions, units, countries, races,
species, groups of every size, configuration and orientation.

The boys are at a sleep-over. Jack and Sherry are out. I am in.
Bella and Flecka are asleep on the floor in front of the fire.
Sparkle is asleep upstairs, in Rick's bed. Rooster is asleep down in
the basement, on the ratty old couch that Jack likes to nap on and
Sherry wants to burn. Think I'll take Rooster more tuna before I shut
down and turn out.

Chester
chester.weredog@gmail.com

Pollution and Asperger's

Someone asked in an e-mail why I did not mention pollution as a proof
of this new species that is trying to ruin the kill off and ruin the
world. True. Pollution is one of their major efforts. They seem to
want to create environmental devastation on such a level that large
numbers of people, and other species, will die. Oh well, they must
think. That is what must happen to get populations back down to
reasonable levels. If it is the earth influencing this new species,
then perhaps its plan is to wipe out mankind and reset the playing
field, so to speak. The earth would survive. It would just have to
take a long sleep, maybe a couple million years. That is a nap for
the earth, geologically speaking. After that, it wakes back up,
refreshed, ready to go, and starts over. Sans humankind.

I know this suggests an earth consciousness. It has been implied and
suggested before, many times in many cultures. I don't know what to
think about that. But, I know there are things more odd than that.
Many things. I have seen some of them. And anyone who has seen a
herd stampede, or watched, or felt, a crowd turn to a horde, does not
doubt the concept of common consciousness.

Rick is home today, having anxiety attacks. The school called. Jack
went and got him. His whining and whimpering is enough to drive me
out of here. Except I cannot go. I am upstairs now, taking a big
risk, writing this message, while Jack is in the basement, in his
shop, and Rick is asleep downstairs on the couch. I can shift quick.
But, Windows doesn't shut down quick. Not on this machine.

There are growing numbers of kids with Asperger's Syndrome. Experts
and parents argue about possible causes. I know because I read Jack
and Sherry's e-mails, check the sites they visit, at least weekly, via
the History tab. A prevalent theory is mercury in inoculations given
to small children. Another is the growing amount of preservatives in
foods, which kids eat.

So, Rick has Asperger's. One of the results of this is his low EQ,
emotional quotient. He has a very high IQ. But, the low EQ makes
social interactions sometimes problematic, which is difficult for most
13 year old anyways. He also has anxiety attacks that are triggered
by numerous things. Kids at school can trigger Rick, with cruel
remarks that he has a harder time interpreting. Sometime I want to go
to school with him and bite someone. But, always I end up just laying
beside Rick, letting him pet me, being near. It tends to do wonders.

Asperger's kids are on the Autism spectrum. Asperger's is sometimes
referred to as "Autism Light". Such kids have shown an incredible
affinity for animals, especially dogs and horses. The theory is that
kids, and adults, with autism, or asperger's share similar emotional
markers and traits with domesticated animals that animals recognize.
Sherry found a web site and articles about an animal shelter somewhere
that brings autism kids together with abandoned animals and has had
remarkable results.

So. Are we going to become a race of autistics, with lowering
emotional understanding, all thanks to corporations, pollution, and
this new self-destructive species? I don't know. What are you seeing?

Jack is coming upstairs. Out.

Chester
chester.weredog@gmail.com