Dog Haters

Outside of Duluth I stopped a guy from drowning a litter of puppies. I did not hurt him, physically, but he'll never wear those pants again. 

There are still a lot of dog haters out there. There are always stories in the paper and online  about people arrested for cruelty to dogs and puppies. 

Why? I don't know why. Why do mothers sometimes kill their children? Why pedophiles? Why do kids sometimes kill for fun? Why do some people try to convert their dogs to vegetarianism? Insanity, it simply drags some people down deep and dark holes sometimes. These things, for me as a dog, are hard to understand. But as a man . . . I still don't understand. 

I think that often, for some people, hatred is the default emotion. When people fall far enough into fear or frustration the emotive response that pops up often is hatred. It is an easy emotion for many people. Don't ask me why. I'm just a dog.

Misogynists are men that hate women. How the hell does that work? How could any man hate women? What's to hate? OK, OK. I know. Some get a bit whacky, high-strung, flipped out. I have known more than my share, as a dog and as a man, believe me. But, honestly, when a man really wants to celebrate or have fun, which would he rather have, a cold bottle of beer, or a warm body of woman? Is there really any choice?

Then you got your misanthropes. These are people that hate people. Would they not then have to hate themselves? Can we take anybody like that seriously?  I have never known, nor heard of, a dog that hates dogs. Can't happen. Sure, you can find some that are a bit anti-social. But none of them hate dogs in general. Trust me.

I think a lot of people hate due to greed and lust, and these are simply derived from the need to survive, to ensure one's best odds for survival, and that of his or her off-spring. When a person thinks that he or she is in competition with the rest of humanity, then there is a good chance that he or she is a greedy misanthrope. 

And I have questions. Can a woman be a misogynist? 

War Dog Memorial at Eglin

There is a new war dog memorial at the USAF Armaments Museum just of Eglin AFB, Florida.  I went to the museum to see the old aircraft, many of which I have flown on and jumped from.  Stumbled across the dog memorial.  Says it was dedicated in 2008.  New.  Here are some photos.

What I am not sure of is if this memorial is for just Air Force security dogs, and handlers, or for all war dogs of all branches, or over what time frame. It does not say. So, I assume all, always. And handlers.

Dog Sled Team

Good guy. I can tell by his voice. 

2 of the team dogs are weredogs. I can tell. 

1 once met a weredog in Alaska who had been up there for 112 years. For all except for 3 of his dog lives he had been on sled teams. He loved it, the sled. For his human lives he had been a railroad engineer, a cop, a soldier, a truck driver, platform monkey at Prudhome Bay, and He also lived 1 of his dogs lives with a pack of wolves. His telling of that rattled my teeth, how and why he did it. But that's another story, for anther time.

http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2009/03/13/travel/escapes/20090313-dogsledding-audio/index.html

Chester
chester.weredog@gmail.com

On the Beach in Destin

I am in Destin, Florida. Can't say where exactly.  But, I hear the surf each night through open windows and could hit boats in the Destin Bay with a pistol round. 

How I got here is a long story. It involved flying the last leg in a single-engine plane with a weredog named Curl. He is a nut. Flew with Chenault in China. Says when he is in human phase he always either works as a pilot or has access to a plane. He said a mistake was made, that he should have been a bird and not a dog. He me awake with stories and flying antics. 

Twice, when he thought I was not listening to his stories, he did barrel rolls. He howled the whole way around. I asked him if he was sure he was not a wolf, and not a dog. He cackled and howled more, said, "I'm more of your wild dog."

I am in this area to find a weredog who is working at Hurlburt Field, on Eglin Air Force Base. I have met with him once, so far. We need to talk again, several times. He was suspicious of me at first. But after we exchanged SF bona fides - names, units, places - he relaxed, a bit. Now we're good. He has a boat and is taking me out to fish when the weather breaks. We should be able to talk freely then. 

I went into Northern Minnesota. Had to find a wolf named Lacwulfa. I found he and his pack northwest of Crane Lake, near the Canadian border, ran with them for a few days. It was cold most days, but so beautiful. But, got the answers I needed and headed here.

It is hard to get access to computers on the road, while traveling as a dog. I am staying in the house of a weredog here in Destin. So, I do not have to worry about getting caught in the wrong form. She is showing me the area. We go out in both dog and human forms, to get the full experience. Her insistence. 

It is raining and cold here today. The first few days I was here it was beautiful. Lots of beach time. My coat got filled with sand. But now it is cld and nasty out and I have lots of time to catch up on emails, messages, news, accounts, bills, etc. 

I've watched a lot of sun rises and sunsets on the beach here. They are moments of magic. Amazing what the sun does with colors when it creeps up in the morning and gives way at night. Sunsets are my favorite. There is something about them. The French have a saying about sunset: "Entre chien et loup." Means: Between dog and wolf. I wonder if there is a saying for sun rise that says: "Entre loup et chien." Have to find out. 

Going Out, Moving Tomorrow

Cliff and I are going out tonight. One more errand here, then I move on. I have to take human form most of tonight, so the next couple of days of travel will have to be in dog form. Cliff has arranged for me to ride with a weredog trucker hauling a load of special piping to Denver. 

Holly and Warin both have been sending me message and voicemails saying that if I ever intend to return there that I better get on back there. Lots of changes and dramas going on, they say, within pack and the family. Great. I so want to rush back to that.

But, I have a few more places to go, and dogs to see, before I can go back home to KC, to Jack and Sherry, Sven and Rick. And Jason. And Flecka and Bailey and Sparkle and Rooster. 

And having some down time sounds good, being able to nap half the day, days wherein my days' biggest exertion is barking at the UPS guy. I am tired from being on this roar. I have a stiffness in my neck that does not go away. 

OK. Got to go. Time to gear up, get ready. 

Religion May Have Evolved To Help People Exercise Self-control

This was sent to me by a weredog I have known a long time.

Religion May Have Evolved Because Of Its Ability To Help People
Exercise Self-control

"Psychologists reveal that religion facilitates the exercise of self-
control and attainment of long-term goals. A psychology professor has
found a strong correlation between religion and self-control, or self-
regulation. He explains that religious people may have at their
disposal a set of unique resources that makes them better suited to
adhering to long term goals."

Link to article:

http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2008/12/081231005355.htm

Religion is one of those things about you people that we, weredogs just do not understand. Werewolves, also, I am sure. My friend, who sent this to me, struggles to understand human religion. She was a nun once, a pastor another time, and a pastor's wife.  She says being the pastor's wife was the most challenging.

Below are some choice Biblical quotes she has shared with me over the years.

Romans 8:21-22 KJV:  "Because the creature itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now."   

Is that to say that we are all species in this together?

Proverbs 12:10:  'A righteous man cares for the needs of his animal.'   

Amen.

Psalms 50:10-11:  'Every animal of the forest is mine, and the cattle on a thousand hills. I know every bird in the mountains, and the creatures of the field are mine.'

Saint Francis must have found that one.

Job 12:7-10:  'Ask the animals, and they will teach you.' 

Oh yeah. That's a double "Amen!"

We understand the need for something to believe in, in higher powers, powers higher and more knowing than ourselves. But all the rules and conditions that you humans place in and around religion leaves us dumbfounded. I can almost grasp the concept of faith. But whenever I think about it and am nearly there I get lost in all the rules and qualifications about it, and I get worn out and just have to go take a nap.

Chester
chester.weredog@gmail.com

Size and Weredogs

Swiftpaw posted this comment:  "Can werefolk of any species become fat and are there individuals (who) like being fat?"

Of course there are weredogs who are larger. We don't think in terms of "fat."  When we first smell or see an individual for the first time, we take in more of that person than just their size and appearance.  It depends on the dog, male or female, as to what she or he prefers in terms of body type. But we also are very swayed by scent and voice. You can tell much from a person or dog's scent, and their voice. For me, and most weredogs, scent and voice are just as important as curves and coat. Matter of fact, for me, a luminous smile is worth more than a $50K pair of tits.

There are many things we do not fully understand about humans, such as religion. We understand the need for faith and hope, and the fear of death. But, we really do not understand all the crazy things that happen in the name of religion. Thus, religion makes us nervous. We also do not understand the "size zero" obsession human culture currently has with the female form. Tyra Banks and Jessica Simpson recently caught a lot of heat for letting themselves go, getting fat. What it amounted to was both women allowing themselves to no longer look like adolescent boys. Well, neither quite ever looked like that. But you get my point.

I think an important element in all this is confidence. Queen Tatifah is a big woman and is one of the sexiest women in Hollywood. No one, with a brain, would accuse her of being fat. If someone did she would just laugh, or pay them no attention. If Jessica did the same, just waved her hand to those who criticized her size and said, "Whatever," then her size storm would have never had wind. By the way, wasn't it mostly other women who who going after Jessica and Tyra, saying they got fat? Sometimes women are so much like cats.

Size only becomes a problem for a weredog when it negatively affects health and mobility.  This sometimes becomes an issue when a weredog gets too old, or falls into decline from staying too long in one form. A dog that needs to hunt  needs to run.

So, for me, and all weredogs, size is relevant. It depends on the individual and breed, on their needs and days. Attraction is the same. I cannot see a pic of a female and know if I am going to be drawn to her. I have to be near her, to smell her, hear her voice, see her move, and feel the reaction to our touch, hers and mine, when my hand or nose touches hers.

WereForms and Phases

The question was asked:

"So a weredog can't actually stay in one form as long as they like? Are they forced to change into a different form or do they just choose to?"

Good question. That is correct. We can are in, for example, human phase for 5 to 10 years, depending on the dog and his or her breed and unique physiology. Then we have to switch to being a dog for approximately the same amount of time. If we don't bad things happen. This shifting is key to our longevity.  We don't quiet understand it ourselves. It's like humans and hiccups. No one can completely explain why they happen.

During our phases we can take other forms, like I did in Grand Lake with Dionna, where I shifted between the 3 somewhat often, for the purposes of hunting neo's and playing with Dionna. But a weredog has to be careful about how long and how much she or he stays in forms other than the form of the current phase.  Staying too long in a form is like decompression sickness for divers. If I stay too long in human form I get the bends, so to speak.

This is a problem right now because I am traveling. Thus, I spend most of my time in dog form, wandering roadsides and finding food and shelter where I can. When I have to I shift to human, or weredog. 

2 night ago I was coming into Yakima, Washington, on Highway 97 and heard some howls. Pain. Distinct. Impossible to miss. I was standing alongside a greasy stretch of road, gas stations, body shops and various other such business and sad buildings lined the road. I loped over, quietly, to check it out. 

Behind a squat cinderblock building, inside a chainlink fence, in a dirt lot with scattered patches of mud and opaque water, a guy was beating 2 dogs, german shepherds, male and female, with a short, wood club. I smelled him form 30 meters away - the sour filth of a broken bully. Without thinking, I started to shift.

Now, I know. Not my business. I should have just kept moving, kept my muzzle out of it. But, I didn't. 

I came up behind him in weredog form. He sensed me when I was about 6 feet away. Or maybe he saw the 2 dogs' eye on me. Regardless, he turned. His face and body did what humans always do when they see a weredog, or werewolf, I assume. His eyes got big as floodlights and his mouth got wide enough to fit in my dinner bowl back home. He stumbled back a few steps. He moved forward, growling low. 

My only intent was to impress upon him the importance of respecting his dogs, and that I would be back to talk to him again if he did not do so in the future. Total bluff. I was passing through. But, this guy surprised me a little. He pulled a piece. 

It was a S&W .44 revolver. I recognized because I used to have one. Before he could bring it up I closed with him and made him drop it. My claws can be persuasive. My teeth were close enough to his face for him to smell the fresh roadkill I had for lunch earlier that day. I told him I never wanted to hear those 2 dogs whine or howl like that ever again. I was not surprised when the guy fainted. I felt his pulse building to it. I laid him down and went through hit pockets. 

I found a large package of beef jerky in his coat. I gave it to the 2 shepherds. Said their names were Rood and Wong. They weren't sure what to make of me at first. But after sniffing me and eating the jerky they got friendly. They told me that the man's name was Bill, that he is actually a decent enough guy, but falls to bad moods. Both said they would stay.

I am staying with a friend at the Yakima Training Center. Just found him today. He is a weredog I have known for a long time. Many stories. He works in Range Control. I am using his laptop to post this. I am here for information he has about new weapons and tactics being tested by the Army. There might be a neo connection. 

We're going to a nearby steakhouse tonight for sirloins and women. I told him I may have to pass on the women, depending on what crosses my path.  I have not had decent food for a while. Haven't been with a female for a while either, for that matter, of any species. 

I need to be real careful about how much shifting I do. Been taking human form too much this past week. 

Moving Again

I'll be moving again tomorrow. Can't say where. 

Holly, I have not heard from you in over a week.  Everything OK?  You're phone not working?  How is Jack, Sherry, the boys?  Can someone check on my family?  Any dog can check in with Flecka, Sparkle, even Rooster. 

Jason is recovered. I've been in communication with him. He wants revenge, for Jessica's death. He wants to know what those things were at the puppy mill. He knows they weren't human. I promised him an explanation, when I can, but for now to stay low. I told him he does not want those things to regain his scent.

The Mission to Help Dionna

OK. I need to tell this.

It took me 3 days to get up to Grand Lake.  This was after the ambush at the puppy mill, not long after Xmas. It took me four minutes to find Dionna.  I homed in on her scent.  A dog never forgets a scent like that.

You might remember that I met Dionna up in Grand Lake last summer. Jack, Sherry and the boys took me with them on the family vacation.  It was an unnerving encounter, for various reasons.

Dionna was waiting tables in the faux cowboy cafe where I met her those months ago, last summer.  She caught my scent before she saw me.  Her head whipped up.  She saw me. I never saw a werewolf move so fast. She was in my arms kissing me and sucking the air out of my lungs before I could say, "Uh...."

I drank some beers and ate some chili and waited for her to get off. We went to her place. 

"So, what's up?" I said.

"First things first," she said.  Then she took off her clothes, and I mean in a way that left no question to what was on her mind. Somehow mine all came off also. 

Inter-species sex, between weredogs and werewolves, has always been verbotten, taboo, bad joo-joo. But, it is also the stuff of fantasies for most weredogs. For werewolves too, come to find out. Mostly we stayed in human form. But we did it also, briefly, in dog and wolf forms. Not in wereforms. That is very risky. I'l explain why sometime. 

"You're the first dog I've been with," Dionna told me. I'm glad she didn't ask me if she was my first. She assumed she was. But, that's another story, for another time.

We laid naked, running our hands and tongues over each other, as I asked questions and she explained. Soon after I and the family left Grand Lake last August, a strange scent crept into area. It came into the town, swept over the lake, like a low, malevolent fog. I knew what it was before she said it. 

"Neo's."

"Yes."

It became too dangerous for werewolves to go into the woods at night. That's a bad situation for werewolves. Embarrassing too.  One of them did some research and found this blog. She did not want to appeal to me for help, but relented after her best friend came up missing. 

I told her I wanted to meet with any werewolves who had seen or smelled the neo's. She arranged it the next day. They all believed the neo's were unbeatable. I told them the neo's are beatable, that I and some werewolves had done it. 

"You have fought alongside werewolves?" said one with a long gray beard. I said I had. How many times? Just twice. He shook his head. "Never thought I would see the day."

I had them show me on a map where most of the sitings had been, where the scent was strongest. I decided we needed to scout the area to the northwest of the town, back along the road toward the RMN park.  We agreed on the next night, and who would go.

The next day I spent sniffing around the town, getting ahold of a sweet S&W .40, a box of hollow points. Dionna and I made time in the afternoon for some canine carnal acrobatics. I never got a better workout in any gym. 

That night our group met at a cabin on the north side of town. There were 8 of us. 5 of us went in wereform, 3 as wolves. I had the .40 and an MP5 that a big werewolf named Stan thrust into my hands. "Her name is Betty," he said, smiling. Apparently, werewolves get as attached to their guns are weredogs do.

We covered the ground quickly. There were a cluster of cabins and condos over a ridge about half a mile from town, across the highway. The scent was strong. My hackles got stiff.

We had 2 wolves with rifles. I had them give us sniper cover as we moved. The 3 wolves scouted forward and our flanks. The other 5 of us stayed in a loose formation. 

We got in amongst the cabins and searched, for scent and sign. The scent was strong. No signs. We had no idea as far as tracks. 

"They're here. I can smell them," said Dionna. 

"Me too," I said.

Shooting and snarling erupted like a sound explosion. As we converged on the fighting I saw werewolves engaged with other forms. They looked somewhat familiar, even canine. But, the sounds they made were unique, their powerful scents, stronger with the aroused state of aggression.

The fight was over as quick as it started. 3 of our number were wounded, 1 badly. The neo's left behind 2 dead. We took the bodies with us. I arranged for them to be shipped to the same lab in KC were the other dead neo was being studied. 

Over the next week we did patrols and raids every night. There were more injuries. 1 werewolf was killed. 3 more neo's were killed. We found intel that they were gathering in the area. But, we never figured out why.  By end of the week the neo scent was hard to detect anywhere in or around Grand Lake. 

We started to relax. Dionna carried herself with an air of "Told you so," around he other werewolves, day and night. She had had to convince many of them to call on a weredog for help. None seemed annoyed. They were just glad to have the air back to right. They took to kidding me in their own way, by casually asking me, "You sure you're a dog?" when I least expected it. I got to expect it all the time.

Leaving was hard. Dionna looked up at me with eyes that pleaded for me to ask her to come with me. I told her I had some things I had to do, to find out, dogs, and wolves, to see.

Our last night was not very acrobatic. We spent it mostly wrapped up in each other, under the heavy blankets and comforters of her bed. I tried to memorize every line, every curve, every scent, and every hair on her skin.

"I'll be back for you," I told her. 

Weredog Sociology

The question was asked: “How exactly is a person changed into a weredog/wolf? Is the genetic code of the said person rewritten or edited?”

How it works is not completely understood. But, for certain it is a matter of transmutation of the “junk DNA”, at least the were portion of the junk DNA. Weredog scientists are studying this whole mess, trying to better understand it, alongside human scientists as they are seeking same. 

I cannot share the conversion process, how one is converted from dog, or human, to weredog, or werewolf. It is a heresy to even talk about it outside of the process itself. 

Nothing is the same for all weredogs. Each inhabits our 3 forms - dog, human, and weredog - for different lengths of time, depending on the individual.  Most reside in dog or human form for 5 to 10 years, depending on the breed and the individual’s physiology.  Some can only remain in weredog form for a day or so. Some for as long as a week. Some, I have heard, longer. 

In human phase we can live alone or with others. Often we live with families.  We never have pet dogs.  Ironically, many tend to have pet cats. No one knows why. And it is no small task for a weredog to get along with a cat. We take such relationships very serious. But, cats take a while to come around to weredogs. Birds are popular with some breeds, like labs and spaniels.  If you know anyone with  pet duck, they might be a weredog.

As dogs we live with people. All seek to live with a family. That is the weredog’s ideal set-up, with kids. But, that can’t always be found or arranged. A large number of weredogs work are military or police dogs. 

Dogs and wolves have this strange love-hate relationship. I have sensed the same in many people. Ganieda recently told me that all dogs, on some level of their canine subconscious, long to be a wolf. And all wolves long to be a dog.  I argued with her about this, a lot. But, the more I think on it the more sense it makes.  

She said our dog side is that part of us that longs for unity and order and safety. Our wolf side is that part of us that longs for freedom and individuality and risk.  

Yes, risk. Seeking risk is why we hunt, fight, and ride without helmets. It is why women like bad boys and why men like nasty girls. Love is all the sweeter with the risk of losing it or, better, having it betrayed.  

Due to our long association with mankind, weredogs are very social. We have hyper-developed social skills, much more so than other canines, such as wolves. Wolves value social interactions only within their pack. Wolves can even be described as anti-social. That is until very recently, in the past century. It’s my understanding that werwolves first started living amongst men as ranchers and cowboys, and a few as rangers, down in Texas back in the latter half of the 180s. 

Incidentally, the first proto-dog carnivores showed up between 40 and 50 millions years ago in what is now southwest Texas.  Weredogs, and werewolves, partial to Texas love that fact. 

A Howl to All Weredogs and Werewolves

This howl is a call to all weredogs and werewolves.  Ganieda suggested that the time is right for this.

Are you a weredog? 

Are you a werewolf?

Are you a woman or man who knows a weredog?  Werewolf?  Of us or them? 

Have you sensed any neo's?  Smelled any?  Seen any? (See my past posts.)

Do you believe that weredogs and werewolves can live together?  Can we work together in addressing this threat?

Are weredogs and werewolves more alike than they are different, or vice versa?

Does there need to be a grand pack meeting between weredogs and werewolves?  This have not happened in thousands of years. Is it time?

By the way, just to satisfy my curiosity...

Are werewolves more for scotch of vodka?

Most weredogs that I have known prefer bourbon and scotch.  Weredogs, agreement?

Are werewolves more beer or wine?  (I, and most dogs that I know, am for beer.)

Beef or fish?

Which public figures do you suspect are werefolk, and dog or wolf?

In which form do you prefer sex?

In which form do you prefer to eat?

Which form is better or sleeping?

With what do you prefer to fight - blade, gun, or claw?

Do you like to howl alone or in groups?

Job Probs

Holly got word to me that Jack is floating down a bad river. He cannot find work. She says more and more she sees him unshaven, with circles under his eyes, food and coffee stains on his clothes. 

It can wear on you, the blizzard of job fairs and job clubs and networking and networks LinkdIn and trying to ferret employment leads from every friend, neighbor and family member, everyone you know.  Jack’s gone to his kids’ games and not seen any of the game because he was too busy trying to subtly pump all the other parents for employment intelligence.  He told me at the bar one night that he has sent 100s of resumes by mail, and 1,000s of resumes by e-mail, or posted to job sites. 

I told him often that negativity breeds negativity, that he has to stay positive. Never give up.  Last time I told him that he snorted and ordered another scotch.

I went with Jack once to this church basement for a job club meeting.  There were 40 people in the room.  All but 5 were white, middle-aged men. Of those 5, 3 were women. 1 was Asian.  And 2 were black. At one point, when a guy named Ray was telling the room of that week’s failures, one guy turned and said to me, “I knew this was coming.”

You can tell how long someone has been looking by the desperation in their eyes.  Posture is also a telltale sign for many.  But not all.  Several of the attendees were so stooped they looked like they had been hauling cements blocks for the previous 18 hours. 

Jack gave up on internet job sites.  The only winners on those sites are the sites themselves. These days your chances of finding a decent job hinge on knowing someone on the inside, says Jack.  

Jack rarely hears back when he sends out a resume.  He says he doesn’t waste time sending them out by mail anymore.  He doesn’t really waste too much time sending them out electronically anymore either.  In either case, he never hears back.  You can only fire your resume out there into the black abyss of hopelessness and never hear back before eventually losing hope. 

Survival jobs are hard to come by also. Starbucks is selective about hiring former VPs and executives.  They prefer to hire bright and bubbly youngsters over somber and disillusioned former middle managers.  Jack can’t even get a job as a roofer or dry waller because he is a native English speaker, and thus assumed that he will not work for pay that is just enough to pay for gas to get our there and home again. 

Jack has taken to saying that he is a failure. Total failure. He says is life is a failure, a complete waste. He told me at the bar one night that he should have died a young a glorious death in the Army. “Had my chances,” he says. 

Many weredogs are also affected.  We tend to take different jobs and careers, for fear of being recognized by former co-workes, clients, what have you. Not hard to understand. If a dog works as a doctor for 10 years he or she might easily be seen by someone he used to know. 

There are many weredogs I know who are in human phase, are not ready to shift to dog phase. They must remain human for a time. Many of them cannot find work. 

Also there are weredogs in dog phase who cannot find home who are having to be creative about shelter and living arrangements.  One dog I know lives now as a roving guard dog at a scrap yard. He slips out many nights and goes to a nearby dive bar where he drinks and sings on amateur nights each week. He’s developed a small following for his Springsteen renditions. He always takes back burgers and brats to the other 3 dogs in the yard.  It’s not quite fair, he says. But it is the best he can do.

Some weredogs, who are coming back to human phase, are going into the military.  Jobs are scarce. Most weredogs have been soldiers, several times. A friend of mine, Buster, joined the Army. He had to act like he didn’t know half of what he already knew about soldering. Oh sure, he had to learn the new weapons and commo systems.  But, they operated on the same intents and necessities. He was killed in Iraq by an IED.  Remember, yes, I told you this: weredogs die. We are not immortal. We can be killed by bomb and bullet. A bullet passes through me just as ragged as the next guy. And no, it does not require a silver bullet to kill a werewolf. Lead does just fine. 

WereGenes

Allow me to try and explain how werephysiology works.  Keep in mind that I only know these things because weredogs, in human form, work in labs all over the world and do their own “pet projects” that leverage the work their labs focus on. Weredog scientists lose much sleep staying late at work.

Again, let me provide just a little perspective.  Here we go.  50 percent of human DNA is what scientists refer to as “junk DNA.”  They call it that, junk, because they are not sure what it is, what it does, or what to do with it.  Some of it they think is mostly old viruses.  But, mostly they just write it off, call it junk.

However, that junk has had an enormous impact on evolution, of many species, probably all species over time.  Junk creates new regulatory sites within the genome, of men, dogs, wolves, everything. Transcription factors have been major factors in evolution, especially that of werefolk. 

Junk is a great source of evolutionary variability.  And it traces back to about 500,000 years ago, according to weredog scientists. Remember that number? 

Junk DNA has a key role in how genes are regulated and expressed, how they respond to to their internal and external environment. WereJunk express itself very differently from other species, more explosively. 

Scientists know that certain DNA segments, in certain species, that carry binding sites of regulatory proteins can behave, depending on the species, individual and environment, very explosively. These explosions involve certain genetic components referred to as “transposable elements” which can jump around within the genetic order. The result is, in werefolk, explosive transmutations of a sort not mapped by modern human science.

So, when a werdog shift, he or she is simply harnessing those explosive DNA transposable elements.

There are human scientists that hypothesize that junk could be key to evolution and the formation of new species. Keep in mind, werefolk are older than homo sapiens, modern humans.  

Junk is at the heart of the Neo threat and evolution.

There is another type of gene, not yet well understood, called “orphan genes” which are known to be extremely variable within individual species. These orphan genes are known to exist in freshwater jellyfish  (the freshwater polyp Hydra) and are responsible for regenerative properties that make the jellyfish immune to aging. Yes, the jellyfish are immortal, just as are weredogs.

Many species that regenerate limbs and change colors to match their environment, at very rapid rates, relevant to most other species. Lizzards and starfish are just 2 examples of such species.

So, you see, werephysiology is not all that odd and quite within the laws of nature. It is our junk DNA and orphans genes that allow us our unique life spans and transmutations.

Having said all that, there is no other species on this planet that can flip, switch or change attitudes, ideas or allegiances at the speed that humans do on a daily basis. We weredogs, and werewolves too, don’t know how you do it. It is amazing. You people amaze us. 

Coyotes

There are so many coyotes around here. Ganieda's relationship with them is unique. There is some protection involved.

Coyote are unique canines. They are smaller than wolves, but larger than foxes. They can eat just about anything. They hunt, but not the large prey that wolves can go after. 

Ordinarily, they do not really consort with wolves, or werewolves, nor with dogs, or weredogs.  And for god reason. Coyotes are the top (wild) dog in the U.S., except where they share the land with wolves. When coyotes and wolves co-exist, coyote populations tend to be 30% lower, according to the U.S. Department of the Interior.

Dogs have many theories on coyotes, as to their behavior and allegiances. None of those theories make sense. Many shamanic cultures place coyotes high on their totem. All cultures recognize coyote's capacity for intelligence and adaptation. Dogs recognize their mercenary ethics. That is why their alliance with Ganieda is so interesting. I would like to know if she really trusts them. 

A key point about coyotes is that they are essential to our survival against the neos. Coyotes cannot sit this one out, or throw in with the neos. I can see them doing that. 

Bella is Gone, Moving Again, and Neos

Bella is gone. Holly called to tell me. Sparkle told her it was a messy scene, that Jack and the boys fell apart after the vet took Bella's body away. 

I can't believe she is gone. That little black dog was special. I never knew anyone like her. And I feel terrible that I wasn't there. 

Holly says that Sparkle asked her if people act like this a lot. Holly told her, "No, not a lot. You'll get used to it."

Brandon asked:

"...were these armed men guarding a puppy mill? or did they somehow manage to sneak up on 7 werewolves and weredogs?"

No. They were not men. Men could not have snuck up on us like that. They were neos. Sorry. Guess I didn't write that clear. What we don't know is if they were homo neos or canine neos, or both. But, if you recall, we recovered one neo body and it is in a lab being analyzed. I won't say where fr reasons of security, in case neos have found this blog. 

We soon will know much about these neos. For that reason I think it is logical to assume that they may become more overt in their activities against dogs and men. No more staying in the shadows, not after we cut up this neo corpse. 

It is a bit disturbing that we did not detect the neos. Each of us, weredogs and werewolves should have, would have detected any other species. But, their scent is so slight, almost no scent at all. That is bad. And hard to explain.

I am not going to remain much longer here with Ganieda. I have other places to go, dogs to see. And something is pulling me back to KC. Much is unresolved there. 

More later.