Playing Catch-Up

It's been a very long time since I've written in here, and after all of the recent activity, I felt it was time to get everyone caught up.

First and foremost, I just started a war on Facebook with an old friend from high school. What is the fight about, you ask? Obama, of course. Never in my life have I seen someone divide a nation as quickly has he has. And it's no secret that I'm not an Obama fan; never have been, never will be. That does not, however, mean I wish failure upon him. Quite the contrary. I want him to succeed, I want him to be able to get this country back up and running, and get back those 3.6+ million jobs that we've lost. But call me a pessimist, I don't see it happening on his watch. At any rate, a battle of wills is taking place globally, nationally, and now on Facebook with me and an old friend from high school. Stay tuned...

I recently bought a house. Without going into too much detail, my 30 day closing turned into a 3 month ordeal. I'm sure you've all been there once or twice, so I won't talk too much about that. I will say that I was hesitant about purchasing the home because of its location: Gay Street. Yes, as I said in an email to family and friends notifying them of my new digs, "My homosexual chickens have come home to roost." For those of you who Mapquest the street and know DC, you'll see that I'm in what some would call a 'questionable' area (others would flat-out call it the ghetto). But one benefit of the housing market crash is that I was able to purchase a larger home for a smaller amount of money. Which leads me to....

The dogs. Yes, plural. You all know I volunteer with a wonderful organization called the Virginia German Shepherd Rescue. Well, upon moving into the new place (complete with a yard!), I agreed to start fostering dogs until their 'forever homes' could be found. Much to Cane's dismay, foster dog #1, Jenna, a 1.5 year old purebred German shepherd showed up on New Year's Eve day. There definitely wasn't a ton of love there at first, but they've grown to really care about one another. It took me all of a day to tell my rescue that I was adopting her. Yes, I'm a foster 101 failure.

A few weeks later, Max showed up. Max is a shepherd/ husky mix and damn cute, with an amazing personality. Within 2 days a family expressed interest, came to Gay Street (which is funny only because I think they're very conservative, and when I made a joke about my street name, they told me that I was just happy all of the time. If only they knew the truth...). They knew they wanted him the moment they saw him, so after his minor surgical procedure (yes, he's now the 4-legged equivalent of an Italian castrato), he'll be leaving me this weekend to live with his new family.

Several days after Max arrived, a hoarding case was discovered in W. VA. where the man had died and all of his dogs had been left outside. For how long, I don't know. They ended up in shelter, and I agreed to take one. Long story short, Silver, an 85 pound shepherd is now hogging the part of the bed that the first 3 don't. So, I've started sleeping in the crate. He's a wonderful dog, and don't tell anyone, but I'm thinking of adopting him, too.

I've gotten some very mixed reactions about having 4 dogs, and the one that sticks out the most is this: "You're crazy." This has been bothering me for days now, and I just can't seem to move past it. I'm almost 37 years old, I have no children (human children, rather), I'm single, and I have a house large enough to accommodate these animals comfortably (aside from me being crated at night). What is it that makes me crazy for wanting to help these animals find loving homes? Aren't I doing the same thing that Brad & Angelina are doing by adopting children from poor countries, only with different types of children? Is there a lack of nobility when one chooses to house animals in need rather than kids? And frankly, isn't it really no body's damn business what I do with my time/home/money/love? Forgive me for the high horse attitude folks, but as I get older I lose more and more patience due to ignorance and judgement. I don't care what anyone else does. If you want to be a professional underwater basket weaver, by all means do it. I may not be personally interested in it, but I'll support your decision.

So, having said all of that, my family is growing, and by god it will continue to do so as long as I still have breath in me. And for the naysayers who, well, naysay: due respect, but piss off. Of course, none of those I'm speaking of have ever seen this blog, so perhaps I'll plant that seed next. Yes, I still like to instigate things. It's part of my charm. I believe that is all for this post. Thanks for reading. I promise to try and do better at keeping this updated. And remember, if you're looking for a companion, please rescue one. Millions of pets need a good home. Millions of breeders only want your cash.