For a Good Cause

Hey folks! Clearly, if you've been reading my blog for any amount of time, you know that a central theme here is the rescue and preservation of all sorts of animals. Likewise, many of those folks who share my world are also concerned for our furry friends. That is why I would like you to go here. The blog belongs to SlackMistress, but on it, she will give you all the instructions you need in order to (1) Visit the fabulous Animal Rescue Site (2) Vote for the Bill Foundation to receive grant money for their work with dog rescue.

It is a simple task that takes only a few moments and can do a world of good. So please, make with the clicky-clicky and help save a dog. :)

Many many thanks!

One Born Every Minute

This Saturday past, I rose and began to get ready for a day spent in the Enrichment Department at the Zoo. However, Tag mentioned that he would not be coming along, for he was going with a co-worker to rescue some kittens he had heard about during the week.

Um... more kittens? More sleepless nights spent worrying about underweight, parasite infested little balls of fluff? More countless hours indulging favorite games like "Bite the hand that's feeding" and "Attack Mommie's Toes"? I'm totally IN!

And thus, I tagged along with Boy and his friend. Co-worker has known the kitty rescue woman for a bit of time now, and while she's well intentioned, she just doesn't have the resources and time to handle the amount of feline activity that crosses her path in her South Central neighborhood. So, although we went with the intention of only rescuing 2 black males, approximately 12 weeks old.... we ended up with 4 total. 3 blacks (all brothers) and one teeny ragdoll looking mess that was desperately in need of de-fleaing, de-worming, and all around recovery. I'm told the baby is 8 - 9 weeks old, but it is only as large as a healthy 5-week old, and the non-stop diarrhea hasn't helped. Welcome Kitty Boys to Chez Yummy.

Day 4 and I'm pleased to say that all are doing better. The big boys were standoffish at first, but now will gladly barrel you over with snuggles when you greet them in the morning. The little one is healing at a slower rate, but showing great progress. I'm working on photos, but it is challenging to get young cats to move slower than the speed of light.

Originally, the woman was calling one of the boys "Superman" although it hardly seemed appropriate, given his size and demeanor. He does however make an awesome "Clark Kent", and thus the comic hero theme was born. Two of the blacks have tiny spots of white, but one is completely dark. Dubbed the "Dark Knight", we lovingly refer to him as "Master Bruce". Last is the largest and most aggressive of the pack. His killer instincts, lethal claws and Hugh Jackman good looks have earned him the name "Logan." The baby remains unnamed for a number of reasons... but I affectionately call it "Little Bug" or "The Itty Bitty."

I'd love to write more, but I hear 4 plaintive voices begging for the next bowl of moist yummy goodness. So excuse me while I push off to tend to my charges. As always, the cats are being adopted out through the non-profit Milo's Sanctuary. If you have any interest in these kittens, or are just looking to make a tax-deductible donation, please don't hesitate to check this out.

Happy Tuesday to you. May all your dreams be purry, warm and wonderful.

The News We've been Waiting For!

I'm IN!! Finally, I'm in. School that is. As of August 11th, 2008, I will be part of the "First Years" in Moorpark College's Exotic Animal Training & Management program. A full time animal care program which will own the majority of time in my life until my graduation in May/June of 2010.

Blogging doesn't seem adequate to express how incredibly excited I am. So join with me in doing the happy dance

*does very silly happy dance*

No seriously, you can join in anytime. :)

April Showers of Random Info

OH my, hello there little neglected blog. So much to say but April has sneaked by on fleeting tip-toe and I can hardly keep track. Hate to be so abrupt, but that seems to be a theme in my life lately... stripping it down. Getting to basics. Moving forward erratically at break-neck speed. Therefore, I must sum up in bullet points:

• Finally got taxes done, April 14th. That is SO LATE for me. However, after going through business deductions and volunteer work, I do have a small amount coming to me from our friends at the Federal offices. Thank the gods, because we could use a little cash.


• Marine Mammals aplenty!! My hours at the center continue to accrue, and I've gotten pretty damn quick at being able to handle the elley seal pups as needed. However, I still stay away from sea lions, as they are quick and nasty tempered.


• Zoo Gnus! I've been working with Enrichment, creating required toys and tools for the animals health and enjoyment. In May, I've volunteered for Bear Medical team for the Bearnstine Bears event. Um... not to worry, those bears are stuffed. I'll be wearing scrubs, but I'll only be mending fabric and faux fur.


• Kitten Season! Helping out Milo's Sanctuary, I'm currently fostering 4 4-week old kittens. My every waking hour seems focused on preparing food, feeding, wiping bottoms, doing poopy laundry and washing bottles and dishes. I'm WORN OUT! I don't know how you Moms of human children do this for more than a few weeks. YIKES!

• Lastly- NEW HAIR... or the lack thereof. Yep, I did it... went bald. Now I just need to work out constantly and never eat again if I want to look like Demi in G. I. Jane.

New Love

Tag is off on a business trip, and while I miss him terribly, I must admit that I've been spending my time with a new love. He's charming and attentive. His deep dark eyes speak volumes about his troubled past and his need for attention. He wins my heart each time I see him.

His name is Green Elley, Pen 6, but I just call him Big G. Sure, he has his flaws and quirks. He smells of fish. He's not potty-trained. He'll give the goo-goo love eyes to any sweet young thing that passes by with a bucket of herring. And the mucus... Yeesh, don't get me started on the elephant seal's amazing ability to generate and expel mucus.



Still, as I stood in Pen 7, in my chest-high waders, scrubbing seal poop off the concrete, I realized that I'd rather do that for free than deal with the office politics crap that I tolerated for 2 years at my last job.

If you too feel the pull of Big Green's dark & penetrating orbs, have I got a place for you! Imagine spending 4 - 5 hours listening to the varied barks and calls of California Sea Lions while blending up fish milkshakes. Picture yourself thawing and sorting endless amounts of fish while breathing deeply the scent of sea (and by scent of the sea, I mean copious amounts of pinniped guano.) Better yet, imagine that moment, where you collapse exhausted into your car seat, after hours of back-breaking work, and sit silently smiling, knowing that at least one abandoned Elephant Seal pup is still alive because of you and those around you.



If you live in the Southern California area, have a love for wildlife, and at least half a day of spare time a week... please think about joining the Volunteers at San Pedro's Marine Mammal Care Center at Fort MacArthur. We're heading into the "busy season", where we will soon be inundated with countless elley pups who have stopped nursing, but have not found the way to survive on fish alone. Summer can also bring algae blooms, which can lead to Domoic Acid Toxicity in Sea Lions, causing neurological damage in the animals. In short, this small but efficient rehabilitation center is about to way more animals than they have volunteer hands.

You can do it for that "good Samaritan" feeling. Or perhaps you want to do it as a write off on next year's taxes. Or maybe, you'll find yourself here just so you too can get a chance to look into Big G's amazing eyes. Whatever your reason, the experience can change your life. Trust me on that.

*snurf*

Marine Mammal Care Center at Fort MacArthur
3601 South Gaffey Street
San Pedro, CA 90731
Phone: (310) 548-5677
info@marinemammalcare.org

Obligation & the Last Few Weeks

Some time ago, I put on my side bar that small icon with the raven that says B.W.O. It stands for “blogging without obligation,” which I believe to be a great concept. Too often, I hear the tale of a blogger who began writing as an exploration of self, and continues as a need to please the reading audience. Blogs have a way of taking on a life of their own, morphing and becoming unrecognizable to the writer. I wanted to state my intention to not fall prey to that phenomenon.

However, I then signed up for NaBloPoMo , during which the goal is to post every day for a month. I signed up with the best of intentions, hoping that I would be inspired to communicate more frequently. Instead, I began to immediately feel the pressing weight of obligation. Quantity over quality seemed the result and I found myself resenting showing up at the blog. That was not my intention, and so I let myself off the hook and gave myself the permission to post as needed.

It didn’t hurt/help that November was a crazed month, filled with stress at work and then a wonderful vacation far away from computers. Hell, far away from cell phone reception or most of society. Tag and I spent the week of Thanksgiving volunteering at Best Friends Animal Society in Kanab, Utah.

If you’ve never been to Southern Utah, I highly recommend the trip. Zion and Bryce National Parks are some of the most beautiful places I’ve ever hiked. There is magic in their deep red rock formations, and a quiet thrum of vibrational energy that affects me body and soul. Not far north, there is both Arches National Park and Canyonlands National Park. 100 miles to the south is the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. In short, if you like being outside, awestruck by Mother Nature’s talent for architecture, Southern Utah is Paradise.

Angel Canyon and Kanab are in what is called the Golden Circle, a centrally located resting point between Zion, Bryce, North Rim and Lake Powell. Best Friends owns 3,800 acres in the canyon, and leases several more from the Bureau of Land Management. On this chunk of land, they run the largest no-kill animal sanctuary in the country. Housing literally thousands of dogs, cats, bunnies, horses, burros, pigs and birds, they are sure to tug at the heart strings of any animal lover. The volunteer program starts with a heart-warming video and orientation, wherein you set up your schedule for each day you are available. We chose to spend each morning session (8:15 – Noon) working with Dogs, starting with Puppy Socialization class for the first 30 min. Our afternoons were mostly spent working in Cat Town, except for Wednesday which was spent in the Triple R Rabbit Retreat.

Duties can range from dog walking, pet grooming, playing and petting, to kennel cleaning and poop scooping. As much as I love animals, I did wonder whether or not I could spend my day off covered in feces and dirt and still feel like I was on vacation. Answer: Hell yes, I can! So much so that I’ve applied for a job at Best Friends and am seriously considering moving myself to that tiny town.

Animals never cease to amaze me, with their ability to forgive and forget. Particularly these animals, so many of which have been abused or abandoned. Sure, there are a few like Filly and Tobie (rescues from Hurricane Katrina) who walk on leash as far from you as they can… but even they are learning to take food from their caregiver’s hands. The process of recovering trust can be slow going, but these sweet creatures have not given up completely.

Words fail me when I try to capture what I experienced there. I can only say that I was happy. Happier than I’ve been in a while. It felt like a part of me that has been missing for a few years now was able to make a fleeting appearance. Best Friends is not only healing for the animals. It’s healing for the people who spend time there too. And as a butterfly sends a wind around the world, so does that little bit of focused healing cause a shift in the energies of Earth and all her children. It is Best Friends' philosophy that kindness towards animals is one step towards healing our planet, and I agree. And if you are not, in some portion of your life, creating a more positive tomorrow…what are you doing?

The desk job weighs even more heavily on me now than it did before. My soul, which felt leaden, has now darkened to numb. Add to that the fact that office politics and fragile egos have stirred up a mess of drama which left me broken and sobbing last Thursday night. I wake each morning with that sense of dread, that heavy weight of obligation rattling like ball & chain around my ankle.

There is a line in Parenthood, in which Steve Martin’s character says, “My whole life is HAVE TO.” I don’t want to wake up one day and find that is my life. Or perhaps, I’ve already had that waking moment. This LA life does not feed my soul. Its cluttered streets and angry people tear at my already tattered edges. In the quiet of Angel Canyon, I found a lightness of being that I have not felt in a long while. Although there were tasks to do, some unpleasant and challenging, there was never that foreboding sense of “have to.” There was choice and there was joy and there was a vibration of healing in each soft muzzle. Each time this office job pulls me to tears, I open up these pictures and remind myself of the great souls that I have had the pleasure to meet and to love.

Letting the Cat Out- In Two Parts

Part 1- PSA

Lately, I have seen around my neighborhood a number of "Lost Cat" signs. My heart goes out to anyone who has lost a beloved pet. I know that sometimes they escape through the door as you bring in groceries, or they push their way out a screen and run loose. Animals are quirky creatures who love to be free. However, many times I find that the lost pet was left outside, to come and go at will, with little thought of protection or responsibility of ownership. I find this infuriating.

Look kids, the average life span of an outdoor cat is something like 4 - 6 years, while the lifespan of an indoor cat is more than twice that. Los Angeles is a huge city, crawling with cars, and wild creatures, and people who suck. When you let your domesticated pet outside unsupervised, you are tempting fate and should not be surprised if you find yourself one pet short very quickly. Traffic is a killer. And don't even get me started on the assholes who get kicks out of torturing, poisoning or otherwise brutalizing pets. There are those who will not think twice about leaving anti-freeze in a dog's water dish, lighting fire to a kitten's head, or shooting your puppy so full of b.b.'s that it bleeds slowly to death while you are at work. (and for the record: all of the atrocities that I just listed have happened to animals of people I know.)

Those of you that live outside of cities are not in the clear either. Coyotes regularly patrol for meals around dawn and dusk, as do other hunters. I've even had a woman I know lose a smaller cat to an owl or hawk. (We knew it was some bird of prey, because other of her larger cats had talon punctures.) Growing up in Florida, I can attest to the fact that gators and snakes will also do quite the number on your little furry friends.

To sum up, if you take the time to own a pet... take the responsibility to care for and protect its life. Tend to their illness and injuries like you would your own, and don't leave a domesticated animal outside to their own defences. Especially especially if you have children who are attached to them. Because some memories never completely fade, like sitting in your mother's arms, weeping over the body of what was 15 minutes and one car ago, a beloved family member.

**********************************************************

Part 2- Confessions

My parents are happily married, but will often tell you that one of the secrets to a life long commitment is the occasional separate vacation. Therefore, although my Father will not visit until next Spring... my Mother will be here tomorrow night.

I love my parents dearly, and I know that they love me. They have wonderful senses of humor and warm, loving hearts. However, we have differences of opinion on many things, not the least of which is "what is appropriate" or "smart" regarding my forms of self-expression. I like to put cute girly stickers on my car, which makes Dad a little crazy. I dress & behave in a way that has more than once made Mom question my values. This is not an uncommon rift between young women and their parents, and I'm in no way disparaging mine. That being said, it is time to let the cat out of the bag on a few items, so that Mom is forewarned, and Dad knows without having to hear the report from her later on.

1. I have new haircut. It's short and can actually be spiked up into what is called a "faux-hawk". I can also wear it down, accented with cute little clips. Either way, it is fairly cute.

2. I have a new tattoo.


3. I have a BIG new tattoo.


4. I have big new tattoo in a really obvious place.



So go ahead, roll your eyes. Take that moment to be horrified and wonder what the hell possessed me to do that. Get it out of your system now, while you're on the East coast... so that when you're here with me, you can be with me, as I am: your 35 yr old daughter with "boho fashion" sense and a predilection towards body modification and art. While we're at it, let's remember that although I teach 6 - 8 hours of dance a week, I still weigh more than you've ever seen me weigh before. I know it. You don't have to point it out, please and thank you.


Alrighty kids, I think that's all the dirty laundry I have to put out there today.


Happy Monday to you!

Each little Slug here, cutting a rug here..

Ah, the joy of a holiday weekend. A rare occassion when, despite having two different jobs, I still manage to have at least a 2 days off IN A ROW.

Tag and I decided to go to the Long Beach "Aquarium of the Pacific" for one of those glorious days. Although it was slammed with folks who had the same idea, we still enjoyed every moment. From petting the sharks and rays in the touch tanks, to watching a touching 5 min movie on the majesty of whales...it all excited and amazed us.

I love the Ocean. I love water. I love the idea that there are wild and wonderful creatures down there, so strange and exotic. I love that there is still so much unexplored. So much of our living waters and their resident denizens remain a mystery, and I hope they continue to be so for many years to come.

This lemony beastie was one of my favorites.... look how he's acutally holding himself in place, between the rock and the coral. Like a tiny Samson, pushing at the pillars of the temple, save for that look of bored resignation on his face.

Sunday Scribblings: Secret Identity

He’s saving lives, I know he is.

He wouldn’t want you to know it of course, and I’m probably breaking several International treaties by mentioning it at all, but I don’t want him to be so misunderstood.

I’d like to say he uses his powers only for good. I’m sure all mothers would. But I can’t promise you what I don’t know. He slips away, through a rip in the fabric of time and space. He vanishes without a trace and you can turn the whole house upside down and never find him. But hours later, he comes sauntering out of a room you’ve checked a dozen times and he flops across the green plush sack, exhausted with a long day’s work.

Mind you, no matter how relaxed he seems, he’s never unaware. Let a strange set of footsteps sound on the stairs outside the apartment, and he’s 2 feet in the air and then POOF, only a cloud of well shed hair appears in the space he once occupied.

Friends jokingly call him “Snuffilupugus” because only Tag and I can ever see him, but I swear he’s real…. And so much more than a mere house cat. He’s Double-O Dobby, secret agent…. And somewhere right now, he’s sipping a dry martini and saving the world.

(see the tiny eyes in the dark... that's him)

The Great Turtle Race!

Are you watching?

For more than 100 million years, leatherback turtles have graced our oceans. At an astonishing eight feet long and up to 2,000 pounds, they journey between continents and dive to incredible depths. But in the last 10 years, 95% of the leatherbacks in the Pacific Ocean have vanished, victims of human pressures.

The Leatherback Trust, Tagging of Pacific Predators, Conservation International, Costa Rica?s Ministry of Environment and Energy, and Yahoo! invite you to join the Great Turtle Race. Follow 11 leatherback turtles on a two-week journey as they swim from their nesting sites on Playa Grande beach in Costa Rica to the Galapagos Islands.

Tag is rooting for Saphira (as sponsored by the Bullis Charter School). I adore both Genevive & Billie..... but I also love to root for the underdog. So today I'm putting my cheering power behind Drexelina, who has managed to get herself all turned around on the beach and is heading in the wrong direction. Send her the positive vibes, won't you? That way, she can get herself back on track and headed towards her home in the Galapagos Islands.

Under Ice

News reports that two mammoth ice shelves in the Weddell Sea have collapsed into the sea. While the event is a sad & tragic example of global warming at work, it has opened up a portal into which marine biologists can peep, and see some of the glorious and mysterious creatures of the cold deep.

Among the findings was this new species of epimeria, sampled near Elephant Island, Antarctic Peninsula.

However, my favorites have to be this brilliantly colored shrimp-like creature

and this remarkably magic octopus.


I will forever love and be in awe by the unexplored portions of our watery world.

Open Water (with a twist)

In a sea of flannel sheets, the couple clung to one another, desparately trying to hold on to sleep that was slipping away with the growing light.

It was in that silence of early dawn that the first attack hit. A nudge, a whisker in the ear, and then a void that was as startling as the tickle.

Next, one sandpaper tongue began to wash the woman's eyelid. Over and over its unforgiving texture lapped at her unprotected flesh. She flailed and twisted away from the pain. Her pursuer slipped back into the abyss.... leaving a false sense of security and hope.

Suddenly in mass they swarmed..... One head pounce, one eyelid wash, and from one below, one paw of razor-tipped claws sank into his unsuspecting butt-cheek. He yelped in unspeakable pain, the noise of which pierced her ear. She ducked, seeking santuary in the endless tangled wrappings of the sheets, but her actions only caught the eye of the ever watchful predator, who mistook the gesture as the beginning of a game. Sharp talons of death came out for real as the near-slaughter continued..... all was lost for our heroic couple.

...

...

And just as the pain was subsiding from his mangled hiney, the alarm sounded, and poor Tag had to get up and feed the beasties before heading off to the office.

yeah.... like this...

only our sleeping bodies in the same perilous position

as that poor catnip plant.

Pouncing Anxiety

For more than half my life, my winters (specifically January and February) have been plagued with a diagnosed bout of depression. It hangs on, unwelcome, like the cloying scent of decay, and is terribly annoying to boot. My physical body aches and spasms, my sleep & eating patterns go out the window. I become irritable and moody.

Knowing that this is a biological cycle, I do what I can to fight it. Try to watch what I eat and drink, keep an eye on whether or not my response to any stimulator is ‘overly dramatic’ or otherwise unwarranted. I don’t like to think of myself as a depression “sufferer” but more one who trudges through the slime and muck and arrives eventually on the other side.

However, in the last few years, my winter visitor has come hand in hand with a new friend, Paranoia. I find myself questioning motivation for each comment addressed to me, as well as constantly checking myself in the mirror for what may have gone horribly wrong since last look. (and yes, I'm speaking of something more than just fresh zits or spinach in my teeth.) Each car behind me is either ‘undercover police’ or ‘intentionally harassing me’. Hang ups on the phone are stalkers trying to find me. Each ache and pain is sign and symptom of some incurable malady. My emails are being monitored; my bank account is being secretly hacked. It’s hell on my nerves, and even more of a drain on the folks around me.

*sigh*

BUT… even in the darkness, there are moments of light and joy. Just last weekend, Tag and I decided to celebrate his birthday with a visit to our local zoo. It was rainy and cold, and thus there were few folks meandering about. We headed to the snow leopard cage, hoping that the darkened winter weather would have aroused them from their usual mid-day slumber. Sure enough, they were not only alert and out in the open, they were in the mood to play. Upon hearing us approach, one of the young males climbed to a vantage point in his habitat and readied a pounce. Seeing him, I dove behind a bush and rustled the dry leaves on the ground. Intrigued, we watched each other for a moment before I sprang out and ran down the path. Inside his enclosure, he ran the corresponding length of his cage. I doubled back and so did he, and when we reached our starting point, I flopped slightly sideways in submission, and he did similarly, with a big cat “chuff”, clearly proud of himself.

The moment lightened my spirit and reminded me that this life I’m currently living…. 9 – 5 at a desk 5 days a week, is not one that I’m truly meant for. I need outside time and interaction with animals. I want to attend school again, and move forward in a way that feels so fitting. I want to talk with the animals, walk with the animals… play hard and live big. Perhaps when I finally fully inhabit the life I’m intended for, these winter doldrums will ease their hold on me.

Living is achieved in the same way that depression is conquered- one day at a time. Moving ever forward, not sitting and waiting it out. Fighting and winning small battles each day. Getting up and getting dressed, when you really just want to pull the covers over your head. *sigh* WOW… this little pep talk is nauseating even me.

What can I say? It’s January, almost February… and I’ve never really liked that time of year. I’m grouchy and nasty-tempered, in pain and in a lousy mood. However, I remain ever thankful for a love that stands beside me, and pouncy moments at the zoo.

Peace out my lovlies.... go do something fun with your day!

Loss, in black & white

I find an odd poignancy in this story.

Ya Ya tried her best to keep her cubs safe, and in doing so, wore herself out, not properly eating or sleeping. This exhaustion caused her to drop the smaller baby, mid-feeding, and collapse onto the fallen body, crushing the tiny offspring beneath her.

She is “inconsolable, wailing and looking for her baby after its body was taken away from her.”

Although the baby was one of a set of twins, and the elder cub remains alive and in good health, Ya Ya continues to mourn.

How many times have I done exactly that? In the pursuit of something cherished, I have held the goal so close, that in the end, when it all fell apart, there was no one to blame but myself. Road to a personal hell, paved with the best of intentions.

*sigh* I wish her peace.

Joy in the smallest things

When all the night seems darkest and daily events have lost their meaning, sometimes the smallest thing will bring gales of giggles and the ability to keep moving forward.

Today, my soul's revival is due to this:











Seriously folks.... I saved it as my desktop wallpaper, and each time I close out a document, it appears once more as a pleasant surprise, and I must, in my "cute voice" say, "Ooooh... Bunny Tongue" and then collapse into giggles.

(This unbearably cute bunny brought to you by the great folks at CuteOverload, your home for all things adorable!)

Creatures of Great Consequence

Long ago, a friend turned me on to a book “When Elephants Weep”, and we began discussing the seemingly “human” traits that are found in our animal friends. Not only have elephants been seen emitting tears in time of “sadness”, but they also have documentable mourning rituals when one of their herd dies.

They form matriarchal family groups, wherein mothers, aunts, sisters and grandmothers share the physical care and handling of calves. When the herd grows too big for the surrounding resources to provide for, a younger female will take a portion of the herd and depart, starting a different branch of the family, within new territory. However, even years later, they have the ability to recognize those ‘related’ herds.

Like humans, they have a vast amount of brain growth from infancy to adulthood, meaning that they have a much increased capacity for learning, and many behaviors are conditioned, not instinctual.

In short, they are thinking, feeling, sentient creatures, with many similarities to our kind.

Thus it disturbs me when I hear that ‘elephant rage’ is significantly on the rise, because I cannot help but wonder if we have taught them how to hate, and in some way encouraged their urge to kill.

Elephant Rage is a growing phenomenon, which seems in some ways to mirror the 100th Monkey theory of collective unconsciousness. Herds that have previously lived in harmony with their surroundings are now stampeding villages and fields, killing at will, and stopping once there is a body count. Some scientists believe that this is due to years of human cruelty and greed, and that the animals are suffering from PTSD (the first time that mental disorder has been diagnosed in an animal other than a human).

Additionally, I found an article that says this:
”If an orphaned baby elephant or several orphaned young are left to fend for themselves, as they grow up, they have no older members to keep their hormones in check and to teach them how to be an elephant, so they gang up and act on their unrestrained aggressiveness.”

So can we then assume that we are inappropriate teachers & caretakers? Is it just genetic design that keeps us from providing what is needed? Or could it be that we set a bad example?


A herd of rogue elephants ran amok in India's northeastern state of Assam, trampling five people to death and destroying dozens of houses. Police believe the herd could have been upset by a train killing a baby elephant a few days ago.

Locals say the animals have developed a taste for locally-brewed rice beer and may have been drunk.


We’ve utilized this honorable beast for years, as pack animal, transportation, weapon of war, even as executioner. We hunt and butcher them for ivory. We invade their territories with our unrestrained and growing population. Could it be our blatant disregard for their (lack of a better word) humanity has led them to rebel, rage, and respond in ways we would otherwise associate with the negative side of ourselves?

Are we, the self-acclaimed dominant species of this planet not responsible for the care of all Earth’s other creatures? Certainly there are those that would call me overly-emotional and irresponsible to my own species because I sit here in defense of the elephants. In truth, this isn’t even to defend their actions, as much as it is for to think and wonder… with the increasing number of natural disasters, and more global news about monkey and elephant attacks, I can’t help but speculate that the sins of the fathers are coming back to haunt the children, and that our years of unrestrained abuse of the planet and her resources are now beginning to bite us in our collective ass.

IF everything happens in cycles, then perhaps this is all par for the course. I’ve been here such a relatively short time. Perhaps what seems to me a new and disturbing trend is really just a portion of some evolutionary bio-rhythm. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say it affects me, on a deeper level than I want it to. It creeps into dreams and whispers in my ear sad tales of dark times to come.

Is the “dawning of the age of Aquarius” really a step forward? Or will we plunge off the edge of our flat earth, discovering too late that when we thought ourselves enlightened, we were really only at that teenage “think you know everything” stage?

Spinning Death in the Garden

OK, so i think i've mentioned that i'm house-sitting up in Van Nuys. And that i have a ton of plants that i care for there.

I've noticed the last several mornings, that when i spray the tomato plants, a host of small winged insects are disturbed and go flying around. However, this morning, i saw somethign even more interesting...off the shed roof very near by, three industrious spiders have set up shop.

Now normally I am a serious arachniphobe, but this morning, i was stunned, honored even, to see the predators at work. As soon as the water hit, and the bugs began to swarm, the movement in the webs caught my eye.

All 3 spiders moved from what seemed to be a reclining position, to an "at the ready" stance. And as the panicked insects unwisely blundered into sticky web strings, the 8-legged would dance with the grace of a ballerina, over to the squirming form, and immediately begin to wrap them in silk. It was incredibly fast, incredibly deadly, and one of the most gorgeous things i've seen in a very long while.

I found myself not afraid, but just watching... stunned into a reverie. I even found myself spraying the tomatos some more, hoping to stir up another swarm, and watch the slaughter again. But alas, the spiders were not putting on some Vegas show. They were simply packing lunch and dinner, and once their coffers were full, they did not greedily go out for more. They sat by their tiny silk-wrapped sack lunches, waiting for the prey to die.

Mystical, and a little daunting. I finally tore myself away, with an increased respect for my arachnid foe.