Hello my Faithful Watchers!

First off, I hope you and yours are well. It has been much too long!

I had been intending on becoming a bit more active on FA, updating things with a few more pictures and stories, but life has a way of taking you in directions other than those you intended on or planned.

Life is not a single chapter, of course. Drifter was a large loss in my life, so I wanted to thank you all sincerely for the condolences and kind words. I truly believe he had a great life. He purred right to the end. He was “ancient” by any standard, and he let me know when it was time. Of course, time rolls on and stops for no one.

I took an immeasurable amount of comfort in Macumba. He was still young and well, and I threw all my pain at Drifter’s loss into him, and he was of great comfort to me and got me through the depression. I had, perhaps naively, thought I would have many years to come with Macumba, but sadly, this was not the case. Macumba passed away in Apr 2017. For me, this was the third in a row.

1) I lost my brother (1-year older than I) in Oct 2016 from a stroke. We had just gotten re-acquainted after some 25-years of limited interactions.

2) I lost my step-dad, who had become a "Dad" to me, and I an "adoptive son" to him. We had gotten close over the last several years. He died of heart failure in late Feb 2017 (at 83-y-o).

3) Once finished with all the affairs of Mom, I headed back home (late Mar’17). I lost by Macumba in less than a week.

Macumba had just turned 14-y-o, and with 3 vet visits, we could not determine what was wrong. A necropsy after-the-fact didn't reveal anything remarkable either. His loss to me was profound, for many reasons.

Leopards (and jaguars too) form bonds with their keepers/handlers like none other of the big cats. I admit, I was just as bonded to him as he was to me. So the loss, for no apparent reason, left me in emotional shambles. it's one things to find a problem, and perhaps fail in remedying it; it's quite another to do everything you can think of, yielding no viable diagnosis, and still failing at a remedy. I felt horribly guilty, having truly failed in the most basic premiss of guardianship.

(Shameless Advertising Plug Here) On a brighter note, I have managed to survive things decently enough. There have been some bouts of depression, but I have managed to keep walking forward and staying busy. I spent a bit of money on some new equipment (now that I didn’t have cats spending it all), and started doing some game-related videos (my channel on YouTube is “Bengali Engineering and Play”) which has been a lot of fun. I haven’t posted anything recently, as I’ve been deployed this year and didn’t get home until the end of Nov.

I have been encouraged to “reactivate” my FA account (which was a chore in an of itself) but I am finally back into the account. Once I logged in, I wanted to try and catch up with everyone, including the long, long overdue Journal entry.

Overall, I am trying my best to settle back into “life” (whatever the heck that is) and keep myself busy. Again, I hope all is well with you and yours, my Faithful Followers.

To my new watchers, thank you sincerely, and welcome to my humble page. Sorry for the much belated thanx for your watches.

It is my wish that the coming year will bring you all joy and happiness amidst the inevitable challenges and hurdles. Stay strong. Stay busy. You /will/ make it through to the other side.

With Warm Regards,
ShastaCat

Hello everyone. I have been rather scarce for a very long time, and for that you have my apologies. That last several years have been challenging, in many ways. Many events have taught me that both the facts, and the laws of society, don't really amount to anything. The courts are useless at best, and corrupt as the norm, and it's really not about the law at all. Trying to do the "right" thing is usually reqarded with a second baseball bat to the side of your head.

But, as this journal is not about laws or courts, or all the "bad" aspects of society as a whole, let me get to my point. As there's no way to ease into it, I'll just let you all have it bluntly.

For those of you that have been around me, either near or far, for all the years, you know that my cats make my world spin.

Today, Drifter (cougar) passed away. He was 16years, 7months old, which is ancient for a cougar. He was happy right to the end, purring away, still trying to lick my arm off. There were some great times, and some fond memories, and probably 10,000 pictures which are now priceless to me.

Macumba (leopard) is still with us, happy, bombastic, and bitey as always. He drew blood last weekend, as he will likely do this coming one.

I hope that you and yours are well. Stay safe, wherever you may be. Live your dreams, embrace your passions, for those are the things which carry you through life. There are hills, yes, and valleys, yes. There are good times, and there are bad times, but in the end, you can only measure one, by the other.

Sincerely,
ShastaCat

It has, in past years, been a tradition of sorts to write up a New Year journal. I have indeed been negligent for a few years past, but alas, life sometimes gets in the way. So, in trying to get back to a bit more even keel, I wanted to try and write something for this New Year, a few days belated though it might be.

Last year was a very trying year. Forgive me that I must start off with a rant.

I have been recalibrated to the fact a “Court of Law” is not about the law at all, or any rule or even case-law. Due to the judges having “broad discretionary authority”, they can do pretty much whatever they want, because it suits them, regardless of the Rules of Civil Procedure, the Rules of Judicial Procedure, the laws themselves, the Constitution, or the guidance and direction of the higher courts. So, I now know first hand why the US Legal System is the total laughing-stock of the world: because the criminals/violators of law have more rights than their victims, because the judges simple don’t give a f**k. They don’t care what they do, or who they hurt, or the ramifications of their decisions, and they have too big of egos to be able to back down from their f**ked up decisions, even when the facts/rules/laws/guidance have been put in front of them. And, of course, whether it be a “crooked attorney” or a “crooked judge”, is doesn’t really matter either. The Bar deals with “discapline” of attorneys. There are, indeed Rules of Conduct, but the Bar is attorneys who are handling the complaints and “investigations” about other attorneys, and the Good Old Boy Network is alive and well. Same for judges. The handling of complaints and investigations are by other judges, and here too, the Good Old Boy Network is golden. It is the classic case of “Who Watches the Watchers?” I won’t bash my State of residence, as I know this is the case in every State in the Union. This is a US-wide problem. Now, having said all that...

Yes, I am well aware that not ALL attorneys are “crooked”, and there ARE some judges on the bench who care about what they do. My point here is they are in the vast minority, which is, quite bluntly, pathetic. The legal system was intended to be a remedy for those who have been harmed in some way by another, whether that be physical injury or violations of law which result in financial or other kinds of damage. In an Ideal World - if such thing really exists - a Court should be about the FACTS and the EVENTS and how both of those have harmed the persons who have raised the concerns. But reality is far, far different.

Instead, the judges have twice the case-load which anyone could reasonably handle, which means they don’t read anything for themselves. They let the attorneys “argue” everything, and in the end, both said attorneys argue the extremes, usually with a “bias” slant - I’ll refrain from calling it “out-and-out-lies” - when the facts and events lay somewhere in the middle, and therefore, never get seen at all. If either party is not present for a hearing, then the facts and events become utterly irrelevant, and the party present gets whatever they asked for, no matter how absurd or unreasonable or entirely unjust, or if what they asked for is diametrically opposed to the law or case-law. The law (or case-law) doesn’t matter. Say it with me now! “The Law doesn’t matter!” Why? Because the judges don’t care.

On the good side, I have discovered that even with judges who don’t care, there are mechanisms in place to circumvent these issues. On the down-side, that such mechanisms exist is saddening because of their sheer necessity. Again, Ideal World scenario: judges follow the law/rules/case-law, and everything is fine. Reality Check: judges do whatever they want, forcing parties to appeal those bogus - yes, I used the word very purposefully! - decisions to the next higher court, which then further clogs up an already overtaxed system, usually with those bogus decisions being reverse/overturned, when logically, if the judges had just done what they were SUPPOSED to do to begin with, there would have been no need for the party to waste addition time and money to fight further.

So, last year was wrought with tribulations a plenty, mostly stemming from an eternally broken and IMHO “unrepairable” legal system. I wrote Motion after Motion, citing fact, case-law, law, Rules, etc, etc, and all were denied. Why? Usually, no reason given. Denied, because they CAN. Some of you familiar with the legal system are thinking “Recusal”, right? Ayup! Tried it. Exceeded the criteria even. But it didn’t matter. Why? Because the judges are ruling on their own behaviors. Conflict-of-Interest? I think so! So, seven Motions to Recuse... Yes, that’s right, SEVEN. Denied. All seven. Why? Because they CAN.

So, this year, I have appealed the case to the appellate court by way of the only mechanism I had left (at least that I know about), which is Petition for Writ of Mandamus. I filed my petition, with 40 pages of fact and argument and citation, and another 300 pages of exhibits in support of the arguments, including thirty pages of citations to case-law and precedence. I paid my fees, and now am once again at the mercy of a defunct system, trying to get someone to just READ the FACTS. I must admit, I have no faith remaining that the legal system actually “works” in protecting anyone (except the wrongdoers). But I nonetheless await anxiously to see what the appellate court does with my Petition. If there is ANY logic or reason within the legal system, I truly hope it finds its way towards my case and cause.

Let me shift now to a brighter side, which is and will always be my animals.

Drifter, the cougar, will be 15-years-old in just a short while (March) and he is slowing down a bit. He still does his territorial roams throughout his little territory. He is a lot less social than he was as a youth. But I take great joy and pride that he still come up to me as he always has, and tries to lick my arms bloody, as he always has, and still gives me those priceless gifts of his quiet purring.

He had a challenging year. One of his back molars essentially “died”, which then got infected and abscessed. The good news is, the antibiotics were able to knock out the infection, which dropped the swelling to minimal, and then the vet was able to remove the molar with no problems. The adventure was in having to knock Drifter down, package him up, and haul m to the vet’s office where they could do the proper surgery. In the end, Drifter came through just fine, and was right back up and eating the very next day like nothing at all had happened.

On one side, my heart is troubled, as such things as “slowing down” and abscessed teeth are issues of “old age”. On the other side, the stark reality is Drifter’s kind in the wild live for about 8-years, and Drifter is nerly twice that now, for which I am immeasurably grateful. Drifter has, over his life, brought me immense joy, peace, and contentment. I have tried, where possible, to do the very same for him, but I leave him to be the judge and jury.

Macumba, the leopard, will turn 11-years-old, also in March. He hasn’t changed much. He is still a leopard in that he snarls and growls at anyone and everyone except his Chosen One (aka me). He is playfully boisterous whenever I see him, and still likes to bite-bite-bite. Thankfully, he rarely draws blood. Cats and their “Love Bites”...

Macumba is in good health, and his only real problems are his being very picky about food and the vegetation in his little territory. He is not very fond of chicken, which is the primary staple for the facility he is at, so the care-givers there indulge me and my dear spotted-son, and buy pork for him, which he likes very much. It’s a lot more expensive, but he’s worth it. Macumba is, for the first time every, just a little on the “chubby” side. But as their feeding and movement behaviors change a lot in the winter months (versus summer months) I expect he will slim back down quickly as he becomes more active.

As for my own life, not much has changed. I still am a civilian engineer working for the US Navy. I still spend half my life underway and at-sea with te very same Navy. I still bounce all over the world in support of the Fleet. Sadly, with the continued budget crunches, in someone’s infinite wisdom, training is always the first to go, leaving he typical Fleet sailor rather ill-equipped to do even the most basic functions of their jobs. So, by virtue of the sailors not knowing “how”, I will have a job for the rest of time. Teaching them the hows and whys of their jobs now falls on my shoulders, as they are not getting adequate training elsewhere.

I reach this year with both some mixed feelings. In April, I will pass the benchmark of 20-years of service with the US Navy. Truth be told, the time had truly flown by. It was just yesterday, when I remember clearly, signing on the line, and becoming a Service Member. In 2002, I hung up my uniform for the last time, and for 12 more years, have been privileged to have much the same duties to the Fleet and the great people of this Nation, but with the bonus of wearing civilian attire instead of a uniform. I am honored indeed that I can work side-by-side still, with the many volunteers who still protect our country and our freedoms, even if I must now only help them in their endeavors; it is now my place to assist them, as the duty to protect now resides entirely with them. But still, I will do my small part in helping them in their tasks.

As some of you know, I have, since 2007, been stationed in the Norfolk VA area, far, far away from my home. This year, an Amphibious Readiness Group (big-deck LHD and two support ships LPD & LSD) will change homeports and be relocated to Mayport FL. I am currently at the top of a very short list of engineers who could be selected to go down and support that group. If I am selected, then I can return home at last, which means I can once again see my “kids” every weekend, instead of every few months as it has been for 7-years now. I am hoping for the best. If I am selected, then I should return home in December ‘14, and assume my duties as Lead Afloat Engineer for Mayport in Jan ‘15. No bonus in pay, but being home and being able to see my “kids” every weekend will be a joy!

This year, I think, will continue to be a challenge. My current group (I’m on a CVN) will deploy in the next few months for a nine-month cruise. It will be my 14th deployment in 20-years. I am hoping to turn my legal case around, and if the budget permits, hire an attorney which s much needed (but hasn’t been in the budget). My truck (dualie F350 for those who don’t know) is deceased by way of the junk engine which Ford put in the 2003-2007 model years (6.0L diesel). The only remedy appear to have is to pay for the repairs, and “bullet-proof” things by replacing all the known defective parts which caused that model engine to fail (supposedly, 65% of those engines dies at 100k miles or less; yes, there were multiple lawsuits over it), which will be about $5,000 on the low end.

I hope that each of you and yours is alive, well, and in good spirits. As always, I give my fondest wishes for you in this New Year, and I hope your goals and dreams come to fruition, whatever they might be.

Most Respectfully and Sincerely Yours,
ShastaCat

While it's a notorious powder keg to leap into the whole Gun Control Debate, I can’t help but chime in with a few comments.

I think most will agree there are goods and bads with any form of “government imposed control”. While it always appears to be “good” on the surface, the typical knee-jerk reactions of legislative “solutions” to most problems really don’t manage to deal with the real issue, but rather, put a bandaid on a few symptoms. The analogy of putting a cork into a leak in a dam is about as close to reality as we can get: it’s an interim stop-gap measure at best, and in the end, does absolutely nothing to “fix” the issue itself. In this analogy, the crack in the dam, will only get worse if left unchecked.

I think there are three major perspectives to “gun control”, each of which will take us down the merry garden path to their own disasters. They are: A) statistical, B) historical, and C) philosophical.

Statistical: While logic might suggest a correlation between an increase in crime and an increase in populations, pure statistical analysis proves the two are not anywhere close to being linear or even consistent relative to one another. In other words, there doesn’t seem to be any discernible relationship between the two. Populations have increased because there are no “checks and balances” (in most countries) which would otherwise control it. Crime has increased because there is not sufficient prevention measures in place to prevent or restrict it. Crime is getting more and more “high-tech”, and law-enforcement agencies are ill-equipped to keep up, even besides personnel availability limitations (as in, not enough LEOs to remotely “keep up” with crime).

Historical: The vast majority of the “gun control” laws in the US have been enacted in the past 30 years. Again, from a purely statistical analysis, to date, none of them have actually decreased gun-related crime, even a little. While that may come as a surprise to many, the reality is, a “law” (no matter what it’s about) is only going to be followed by “law-abiding citizens”. A “criminal” has no intention or interest in following laws, which means by nature of the criminal acts, are exempt from following the laws, therefore, are completely uneffected by a “gun control” law. So in the end, the only ones effected by “gun control” laws are law-abiding citizens, who very likely aren’t going to go into their local supermarket and open fire at everyone in Isle 6 with their Uzi. So, “gun control” laws really do nothing at all in the prevention of gun-related crimes, because criminals don’t follow laws. But even so, politicians continue to push through more and more legislation to “control guns”, apparently because yet another measure to “control guns” is much better than the 18 others which proceeded it, and will somehow, magically do what those previous 18 failed to accomplish. Riiiiiiight.

Philosophical: Someone far smarter and wiser than I said: “Guns don’t kill people; people kill people.” No truer statement has ever been made. This ideal goes back to our cork-in-the-dam analogy. As another analogy, about 36,000 people die each year in automobile-related collisions. According to Wikipaedia (as much as I loathe the site for “profession of misinformation”), in 2010, there were about 11,100 gun-related deaths within the context of crime (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gun_violence_in_the_United_States). So then, mathematically, there are more than three times as many deaths caused by motor-vehicles in the US, so reasonably and logically motor vehicles should be “outlawed” with three-times greater energy than guns. If “guns kill people”, then it is also true “cars kill three times more than guns”, which means, mathematically, cars are the bigger threat. But of course, there are likely twenty places anyone can buy a car within ten miles of their current location, and no “car control” laws. Anyone with a license (and most that don’t) can drive a car, which is, as statistics prove, a lethal weapon.

By Politician Logic (an oxymoron, I know) we can control gun-related deaths by controlling guns (forget the people who actually hold the guns and pull the triggers), but for whatever reason, we don’t have any desire to control car-related deaths by controlling cars unless you consider auto-safety standards as “controlling car-related deaths”, which from a purely statistical analysis hasn’t done all that much towards that ideal.

Bottom line, hitting the problem rather than the symptom is the only viable solution. “Gun control” only effects people who intend to obey the laws. This is why personally, I am vehemently opposed to “gun control”, because I don’t want it to be harder for myself to obtain weapons should I want them for the protection of my family and property; I want it to be harder for the CRIMINALS to obtain weapons, which of course, will never happen, as criminals inherently don’t follow laws.

While technically belonging to the “Historical” section, another historical fact worth considering: the downfall of /every/ society which has failed in recorded history included “gun controls” on the mass population, restricting their rights to keep and bear arms. It was the single largest reason why the Founding Fathers of the United States specifically put such a prevention measure into the Constitution, as they were all educated and forward-thinking people. Of course, politicians don’t even consider the Constitution today (hence, the “Patriot Act”, the “War Powers Act”, etc, etc).

Well, I’ll stop there, and put away my soap box.

Anyway, there’s my nickel worth, which will likely ignite the flames of woe and derp for decades to come. :)

FA_New_Years_Journal

Greetings to One and All!

It has been quite some time since I have had any activity at all on my account here - more than two years now - though I have lurked a bit from a distance. I offer my sincere apologies for this. These past two years have been difficult. Please forgive me, my dear watches, if I have not replied to all of you who have left comments, or failed to thank you for your watches. I am remiss, and will attempt to do so as I regain some momentum and motivation. Nonetheless, let me get to my journal with the hopes of starting anew.

With the new year bring many things, both blessings and burdens. It is the conclusion of yet another year of life, which brought with it joys, contentment, and some sorrows. But as always, life is not about the flat plains, but the rugged mountain peaks and the serene lush valleys.

For me, this past year has been a struggle. While I have always tried in earnest to maintain a positive attitude, this past year has been a series of Trials of Faith, and admittedly, I have been found wanting. Most of these trials have come surround the legal battle for my animals which has continued.

I had always had the faith that in a supposed “Court of Law”, that logic and proof would prevail. Last year (and much of the year prior) have enlightened me that this is not the case. Judgements come from not law or Rule, but from the conservation of time. You see, judges typically run 1000+ cases per year, as the entire court system at every level is inundated with cases of every kind from criminal to civil, from family to probate. Most, rather than giving a case the time is either deserves or requires, leaves it up to the attorneys to “explain” the nature of the case, which turns any given suit into a game of motions and having those motions heard. And of course, not all attorneys are upright, prudent, and the epitome of integrity. In the end, it has been quite the education to learn that a court of law is just as corrupt as most any other “enforcement” portion of society. Decisions are made by random interpretation of rule or law, with none of it standing up to any rational or logical process or criteria. The whole process has been frustrating and disheartening. So, with another $50k down the drain, which has ultimately led to an infinity of other financial challenges, I have come to the bright New Year in hopes of change for the better.

I never imagined it possible, but I am becoming even more cynical as I get older. This is not without cause. I spent much of my youth determining the myriad of ways I could break all the proverbial rules, but through those experiences, learned many of life’s lessons with perhaps greater clarity than my peers. Indeed, much of my behaviors as a youth set the firm foundation on which, ultimately, my life as an adult was built.

I am a logical beast. I see the world in terms of “black” and “white”, and of “right” and “wrong”. My “wrongs” of youth have granted me the ability to more clearly understand “right” and about what the differences between the two really are. This is not to say I cannot see the “grey”; most certainly I DO. My problems with society root from the basis of the attitudes which have become so very prevalent: “entitlement” and “exemption”.

I truly believe that most people KNOW what the rules are. They know “right” from “wrong”. Because of this, all that’s left is to decide your course-of-action based on one, or the other. What I find most disturbing about society in general is that the “norm” is people CHOOSE to break the laws and NOT follow the rules. They KNOW what they should do, but they decide to do something else, usually at the detriment of someone else. Why? Well, that’s where “attitude” comes in.

I’ve said it all in the past: “Freedom is not free.” This is about the “attitude”. This is about the justification for actions, when in fact, there isn’t one. “Rights” are about the unalienable benefits to which one is entitled. The Constitution of this nation (and many other nations around the world) guarantee those rights to its citizens. But what most people fail to consider is that those right, while indeed “unalienable”, also have limits placed upon them. As long as we act with those limits, then our rights are assured. But what about when we act OUTSIDE those limits? Are they still rights? In the black-and-white, the answer is a resounding “no”. Bottom line, our rights END where the next person’s rights BEGIN. They are, by the same guarantees of The Constitution, entitled to the very same right as we are. No one has the entitlement to deny another their guaranteed rights. But this is where the “attitude” comes into play, because many folks feel their rights are “more important” than someone else’s. Why? How? Because they feel themselves ENTITLED. “This is my RIGHT! Therefore, I am doing this!” The fact remains, it’s likely NOT a right at all, because it is beyond the limitations of the Guarantee of Right. It has likely violated the rights of someone else. But do they care? Nope. Not even a little. Why? Because “This is my RIGHT!”.

In the “Black-and-White” world, everyone knows right from wrong, and always does the right thing. We have a foundation of laws which are intended to govern us and set up rules by which all citizens are to behave. But in reality, in today’s society, everyone feels themselves magically EXEMPT from those laws. “Oh, THAT law doesn’t apply to ME!” Well, YES, it DOES! Just because you think the sky is purple instead of blue, doesn’t make it so. Nonetheless, the “Entitlement Syndrome” really boils down to that premise: “It is my RIGHT because I SAY it is my right!” When pressed, the bottom line is, there is no law or authority which has GRANTED them such a “right”, but rather, they have simply chosen to act in a way that benefits themselves (and usually ONLY themselves), and the hell with anyone else or their rights (which really ARE rights).

The truest test of a “Right” is indeed the applicability to ALL people, unilaterally and equally. This test is the problem with the “Entitlement Syndrome”, because if this “unilateral and equal” test is applied to most people’s “Entitlement Syndrome”, then it fails. If your “rights” are somehow more “important” than someone else’s rights, then they’re not really “rights”, are they? If they don’t have the SAME “rights” as you do, they’re not really “rights”, are they?

While I didn’t intend for this journal to be a big “rant”. It was more to point out that in today’s society, or rather, what society has become, the root of everything which you and I both hate, is the fact that people, very typically, don’t do what they SHOULD. They know the rules. They know the laws. But they choose NOT to follow them, because it would inconvenience them in some way. Again, the hell with the other people which their actions WILL and DO “inconvenience”, possible by quite a bit. Am I talking about the total “goodie-two-shoes”? No. I’m not talking about the absolute adherence to the black-and-white, the proverbial “letter of the law”. I AM talking about the “spirit of the law”. If all the traffic is going 70 in a 55 zone, go 70. Blend. Flow. Work in HARMONY with the other traffic rather than a detriment. It’s about SAFETY. When are an impediment to the normal flow, whether it be going too fast or two slow, then you are not adhering to the “spirit of the law”. When others around you have to react to prevent disaster because of whatever it is you are doing, then perhaps you should rethink your actions.

Samuel Clemens once said it the very best: “There is nothing common about Common Sense!” This is really what I’m talking about. Between “Common Sense” and The Golden Rule, the world would be a fine, fine place. But because both “inconvenience” those who apply them, people DON’T, as they choose to not be inconvenience themselves, but rather, inconvenience others by their actions.

So, if I may make a wish upon you and yours for this upcoming, brand new year, may it be that always Common Sense shall prevail, and that you will always have the blessings of The Golden Rule. Let this be your pledge, and the pledge of those around you. Help to make the world a better place, one person at a time.

I hope this year will bring you the very best!


Most Sincerely and Respectfully Yours,
Shasta

New Years, 2013

Forgive me all, as I'm getting this out a bit late.

One of my friends from a few years back - former Navy squid such as myself - is in a bit of a downtime in his life, and I wanted to give them a bit of encouragement.

I got an email from them this morning, and I couldn't help but be compelled to respond. While some of the topics and sentiments might be a bit out-of-context for the general reader, I think there's enough thoughts and ideas that it still mostly stands on its own.

So while I'm speaking directly to them, please take my words as my encouragements to you all as well.

May you and yours all find hope and faith, and peace and contentment in the coming year!

Most Sincerely and Respectfully Submitted,
ShastaCat

---

First off, my sincere condolences for your loss. I lost my father this year, and like with my step-dad, I was once again at sea. Not a particularly grand moment. I can relate to your loss, and empathize with your pain.

I know that at your particular stage in life, things seem very difficult. Indeed, there is good and bad in being where you are at this moment. I think you are realizing that the naivety has ended; the “blinders” which have clouded your view and judgement have finally come off, and you are starting to see the world from a unbiased viewpoint. Remember when I said once: “Perspective is EVERYTHING.”? Now, I think, you are understanding what I was saying.

It is in our very lowest states in life that we can truly make some very profound discoveries about ourselves. It is usually in those lowest moments, when our reservations and conservativeness have finally been switched off, and we can finally see reality as it exists around us for what is. For the first time, perhaps in our entire lives, we are viewing the world without bias and without filters. Of course, that might make it a bit scary and overwhelming, as we might not particularly like what we see.

If I look back and plot the various journeys of my life, I can see that there have been two truly “low points” in my life. All other planar references can only be established versus those. The first was when I lost Shasta in 1986. The second was when I lost Drifter and Macumba in 2006. I suppose there was a third low moment, though it was different, when I discovered that Macumba had been irreversibly maimed, which was in 2009. Of course, wiser men than I have said: “It is always darkest just before dawn.”. I think there are a lot of truths in these words.

In 1986, I was lost. It was the only time in my life that I truly contemplated suicide. Everything I had known and admired was gone. The path behind me was a dark and sinister, and it was a path that I despised because it took me through places and events which I had never imagined I would live, and did not want to live through again. The path ahead was just as dark, mostly because the future is always a mystery, but also because, for the first time in my life, the dreaming had stopped. I did not know what the future might hold, because I can no longer imagine it. It is the death of imagination, the death of the soul.

The recovery was slow and agonizing. There was the tediously slow journey forward, without very much progress through life. 1988 was perhaps the most difficult year of my life, mostly because every waking moment was spent trying to convince myself that it was all worthwhile, that life really did have meaning and purpose. The good news is I survived that year, and in the end I started to realize that even in all the negative that life has to offer, even with all the mystery and pain of the past, there are some very bright and positive thing on which we can reflect. The moments I had with Shasta were some of the brightest moments of my life. I learned in that darkest of years that sometimes these moments and memories of the past, what I have called in our conversations “Priceless Moments”, are both fundamental and profound. The emotions that we can find in those Moments are worth embracing.

Eventually, I found my way again. The dreams survive. The imagination perhaps changed form for a time but was never gone. In 1996, I was in the advanced stages of studying for my doctorate in counseling, and I was lost in the dilemma of finding a topic on which to write my dissertation. How can one truly turn over a new leaf in a subject as broad and vast as counseling? The whole idea of a dissertation is to research to the finite degree and a tiny thread, an infinitesimal idea, and for just a moment development and become the world’s most leading and a knowledgeable expert on that particular subject. Where does one begin? End it was in all that confusion and frustration that my academic advisor dropped the bombshell in my lap. He summed it all up simply: “What events transpired that have caused you to become the person that you are today, right at this very moment? That’s what you need to write about.”

The writing of my dissertation was the most traumatic thing I have ever done in my life, but ironically, the most rewarding. For me to discuss those events, I had to dig deeply into the past. I was not oblivious to the fact that the events leading up to my worst moments so far in life (1986) were indeed did the events that shaped who I was in the here and now. Everyone has skeletons in the closet. The writing of my dissertation required me to open the proverbial closet door. Unfortunately, one that does not remove any single skeleton from the closet; if you dare to remove one you will get them all. It is not a pick and choose. It is not a deal with this one first and move on to the next. You get them all at once. You have to deal with all of them at once. Many of those proverbial skeletons were best left well enough alone, but yet I had no choice. Hence, my dissertation being very dramatic indeed. But on the bright side, there had been a lot of water under the proverbial bridge. I had gained in both knowledge and experience in life, and was now some 11 years later, a little better equipped to deal with some of those problems that I had never resolved in the past. It is for those reasons that my dissertation was indeed a very positive and enlightening experience. Laying issues of the past to rest at long last can be a very uplifting experience. While my perspectives have not changed very dramatically, and I could still see those moments in 1985 as indeed being the lowest of my life, I could now see the magnificent journey of ups and downs that both preceded them and followed them. But all in all, I learned of the one most important thing: passions.

I think that you remember my lectures regarding passions, so I will not belabor those points. The passion I refer to in this case is my love for animals. I realized with the writing of my dissertation that this was one aspect of my life that I truly missed. I wanted to feel once again the love and compassion that only an animal can bestow upon us. So that began the next journey of my life, which was to discover a way to begin work with these magnificent creatures once again. In many ways this realization changed the course of my life yet again, just like Shasta had done in the 1984. Long story short, I took a journey and found my way to new animals. I had found nirvana once again.

Time is subjective. It can move by so very quickly. And as wiser man than I have said: “you never know what you have until it’s gone.” I lost Dagger so very quickly. Six years went by in the blink of an eye. But I still had the Drifter to throw hard and soul into, and of course, Macumba was there as well. Then, just a short length of time later, it looked as though I had lost them as well, not because of anything they had done, but because of one sinister and malevolent person who took it upon herself to keep me from them by way of taking them hostage and holding them for ransom. It was not a particularly good time of my life.

From 2006 to 2009 was yet another very long and difficult journey, wrought with anger, sorrow, frustration, depression, the loss of hope, the loss of faith, but eventually the restoral of both. That magnificent day occurred in January of 2009, when by court order, my beloved animals were returned to me. But of course with every up there is a down. The “up” was that I was indeed in the presence of these magnificent beasts once again. The “down” was that one of them had been brutally and malevolently, permanently maimed. I was entrusted to be this beast’s Guardian, and in that profound and solemn duty, I had failed. I have never felt such guilt before or since.

Of course, the water under the proverbial bridge never stops flowing. We never stop learning or gaining experience in the journeys that life’s pathways take us. So now I am two years older, and have gained two more years of wisdom and cynicism, and through both of those I see things from a different perspective. Yes, I am still guilty in my failure of sacred guardianship, but thankfully there is penance of the sort. I have taken up a new fight, and though the journey ahead will be difficult and at times frustrating, my intentions are to see it through to the end. On the bright note, both Drifter and Macumba are happy and healthy, and obviously they are unaware of my fight on their behalf, but nonetheless, I still fight.

Where am I going with all this? Is it merely to show you that it is truly darkest just before dawn. Those darkest moments of our lives can sometimes profoundly change the directions in which we travel, but we are so very unaware, perhaps because of the darkness, that the axes have shifted. Not as always, when that tiny candle flame is lit upon the horizon, and the light of a new day is upon us, only then shall we realize that the world around us has changed. The directions in which we faced have changed. Which is really to say, we have changed.

The greatest changes in our lives often come from these lowest moments. Indeed there are so many things that we can learn from them. Yes, there is always the depression and frustration, and even in those where it is so difficult to find a way ahead, there is still the light if we choose to look at it, and to see it for what it is. The lowest moments often cause us to strip away all those inconsequential things, all those pointless baubles which surround us, keep us entertained, but at the same time keep us deluded as to the real purpose that we might otherwise see. It is only in the darkest of dark places, that we can truly see and appreciate the tiniest flicker, the tiniest ray of hope. In the normal dull shadows of life we would not be able to see it all. This is the glory of the dark!

What does the life ahead hold for you? Only you can decide. As I wants perhaps told you, the journey of life is not about “discovery”, but rather, about “choice”. You can spend a lifetime trying to “discover” what your purpose might be. In my experience, it is better to simply choose a path, and to take those first steps onto a journey that is purposeful. Maybe, as you travel, you discover that this is not the path you desire to take. So then, you make another choice, as there is an intersection just ahead, where you can choose to go right or left instead of straight ahead. You can change your path, all at a whim, just because it suits you at this moment. If you don’t like this path, choose another. If you don’t like that path, choose another. The glory of choice, is that there is always another one to make, but no matter what your journeys, there is always experience to be gained from them. Nothing is lost as long as there is gained. Indeed, perhaps it is gaining wisdom, and perhaps a bit of cynicism, but in the end there is always something to learn. As long as you have learned, then all of the experiences of your life have had purpose and meaning.

I’m not sure what else I can share. I think that you have heard all the lectures. The only thing I can recommend in earnest is that you focus on those “passions” which you have discovered in your journeys so far in life. Embrace them. Develop them. Throw your very heart and soul into them. These “passions” are truly what life is about. And you will find no greater joy than pouring yourself into them, wholly and unobstructed. Passions have this strange way of taking all the pain and anguish, frustration and heartache, and turning it all into something magnificent.

We once talked of “faith”. We once talked of “hope”. I think now, that you have made some journeys in life on your own, that you have made some discoveries about both of these things, these odd and mysterious concepts, the use of vague and ambiguous ideals, that always seemed just out of reach. But I think now can see, they are not so difficult as you once thought. They too can be found within your passions. Indeed, this is what passions are really about.

I wish all the best for you in this coming year. Yes, there will be downs, but only by comparison to the slowest moments can you measure the highest of highs. “Good” cannot exist without “bad”, as indeed, there is not a measure for either without the other. It is only in the combination of both that we can truly find peace and contentment in our journeys through life.

Life is simply the quest for peace, nothing more, nothing less. It is in the peace and contentment which we discover along our lives’ journeys, that we can truly realize we have lived.

Your Friend for All Time,
Mick

A friend sent this to me and I felt the need to pass it on.

As a former US Military service member, and now a civilian still serving with the US Navy, I know more than a few shipmates and other brothers- and sisters-in-arms who have paid the supreme price for Freedom.

I think this song is a very moving tribute to those fallen brothers and sisters.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GgkxiqKj0nU

Sincerely and Respectfully Submitted,
ShastaCat

While I hate to bring down people's moods and all that, it's time to stop mourning and get on with life, even with all the hardships which will follow for my family as a whole.

My blood father has passed away, ironically, on Father's Day. Why'd I wait so long to share? I guess I needed to deal with things by myself for a while.

I'm a big proponent of "no regret", and I am very lucky that I don't have any of that kind of emotional baggage with my father. There was nothing left unsaid. I got to talk to him, and tell him that I loved him, right before I left for the last underway.

Bizarrely, this is the second parent I've lost while underway, which is just the nature of the military life, I guess. I lost my step-father (who I was much closer to than my blood-father) while underway in the Arabian Gulf. At least I was on this side of the world this time.

As you read, you'll see a bunch of typo's, and a there's a few sentences that make no sense at all. I wrote this letter within an hour of receiving the news of his death. I have purposefully left it as-is, as it seems appropriate. I wrote it in "the moment", and as such, it should remain as it was written.

We had a viewing before his cremation, where I, my brother, and our uncle (his oldest brother), were there to say our final good-byes. It was very difficult, but I got to read him my letter, although there were a few pauses here and there where we all needed to cry together a little before regaining our composure. Then, I left the letter there, and it was cremated with him.

For those of you that're out there, who are daring enough to read this and share in my and my family's pain with us, I give you my sincere thanks. And with it, I offer an equally sincere warning:

Time is short. Leave nothing unsaid, or undone. I know many of you out there have some issues with your parents, as do many children, and perhaps haven't spoken with them in years. Remedy that. Make contact. You don't have to patch anything up. You don't have to "make amends". It's not about anything like that. It's a time to simple speak and say what needs to be say, and then let by-gones be by-gones.

For those of you that have lost parents, my condolences go out to you.

Lastly, why did I post this today? There is yet more irony. My mom, who separated from my father in 1981, remarried in 1984. Her loving husband passed away in April 2005. Well, today, she remarried again. So with new beginnings comes the time for endings.

So without further ado, this is my letter to my father, may he be pleasantly off for whatever lies beyond this life. I hope there is peace and tranquility there, which will be a change from what he had in this life.

Written 1240 ET, 21Jun10, onboard USS George H W Bush, CVN 77, CONUS Op Area

---

Dead Dad:

It was always inevitable that I would one day be writing this letter to you. I knew I would have to write it when I was sitting with you in the hospital in 2002.

I remember how odd it felt to be sitting there with you, sometimes with you coherent, and sometimes not. Other times, you were just sleeping. It was hard on me, because it should have been Jonny sitting there with you, but it wasn’t; it was me. Jonny was always your favorite. Sure, you always argued that wasn’t the case, but everyone knew. So did you, deep down I think, even though you always denied it.

I don’t think I ever really held the proverbial grudge for either one of you for it. Certainly, it was all frustrating, as being “second” was very disheartening for me. But even growing up, I think I understood it was just the way things were, and how they would always be. I think it was even good in many ways, as it taught me to be dependent on myself. That has served me well over the years, I think. I’ll speak more to that below.

I planned ahead with all this, because I knew then, in 2002, sitting with you in the hospital, this would someday happen. I think mostly your were incoherent there in the hospital, but that didn’t really matter. It was more about me saying all the things that I needed to say to you. All the bad things, and all the good. I once wrote: “Do and say now, in life, al the things you will regret having not said and done when life is over.” I have tried very hard to live that philosophy. I was able to do that with you. I said what I needed to say. I said what I wanted to say. I think, even reflecting today, there was nothing which I left unsaid or undone.

There were no secrets that you and I did not see eye-to-eye on so many things. We were so very different in interests, and yet, so very much the same in mannerisms and methods. I think I have never been as “moody” as you, and probably not bi-polar. It was always awkward that we truly never had any interests that were the same. There was never anything to talk about on the phone. It was always about the vehicles or money. I guess, looking back now, I guess a tiny little bit is better than nothing.

I got the phone call in my stateroom this morning. I knew from the message even before I called Rick, it was going to be bad news. It is ironically fitting that you should pass away while I’m underway. Curt did too. So I guess, having both my dad’s pass away while I’m underway put you both on equal ground at last.

I called Millie. I think she’s okay. She sounded stable on the phone, but it’s hard to tell from a distance. She’s still dazed, which is to be expected I think. I hope she get’s Alethea involved, as I think Alethea will at lease be able to get everything that needs to be done coordinated.

I am at sea, and I don’t know at this point if I will be able to get off before the ship pulls into port. There might be a flight off tomorrow morning, but one never knows with the Navy. I’d say 75% chance, but nothing is ever written in stone. If I can get off, it’ll take me another 24-hours, probably, to get to California. If I have to ride the ship in, then I’ve already told Millie to have the services without me there, as it shouldn’t wait. In truth, I would want to be there, but it’s not fair to make other wait just for me.

There was a time I hated you, for more years of my life than I like to think about or remember. I don’t remember exactly when it was that I finally decided that I didn’t have to “respect” you for me to love you. You were my father, and all things considered, I could love you for that, and not need anything other reason. It made a lot of things much better. A long time hatred was gone. And the bottom line was that my hatred was only hurting me. I think you were oblivious to it all. I think that was good.

We certainly had our fights over the years. It’s strange to think that all of them were over vehicles and ultimately money. I guess that just goes back to the reality that those two were all we ever had in common. Oh the irony!

So, right now, as I’m writing this, the only quandaries on the horizon are if I will be able to get there in time for the services, and also, how will Jonny ever deal with it all. I don’t know how either of those issues will work out.

I feel odd once again, as here I am, the Second Son, the second with everything, and everyone knew it, but I am still the one trying to get to your funeral on time. Maybe I can just say that’s the love of a son for his father. Maybe it is testament that I have truly given up all my hatred.

I have to admit, I didn’t do so well this morning, but I think that’s to be expected. News like this is never well received. It never comes at a “good” time. A death is the family is never “convenient” or opportune. But truly, I think I can say: “No Regrets”.

I think it the duty of a father to teach their children about many things in life. While not directly, over the years, I have gained the wisdom an maturity to see that you did indeed teach me many important things about life. I want to tell you about them.

I learned how NOT to manage money from you. You always spent everything you had until saving for the proverbial rainy day. I’ve been through my own financial straights. I’m in some now, as you already know. But I think I’ll manage. I’m leaving many things in God’s Hands, and I’m praying regularly.

I learned that THINGS are not important. Everything with you was about “things”. Cars, trinkets, toys, things. I don’t think your ever realized that things are all fleeting, just like time. Only things like “love” and “compassions” are eternal. All “things” are temporary. “Love” is forever.

I learned how to NOT treat people from you. For the better part of my life, you were always so condescending to people who you felt were “lesser”. Education was somehow the measure of an individual. This too brought some of the most heated arguments between us. People are just and only people. They cannot be measured and weight by any single set of standards or criteria. People are all different, which means, they can only be measured by criteria unique to them. I think in your latter years, you finally figured that out.

I learned how UNIMPORTANT education really is from you. Much of the basis for this was the same as above, but there were some unique elements. You hounded and harassed me about education all of my life. I finally got you to stop when I slapped the two PhD’s onto the table in front of you. There was nothing more you could say to me about education, because not I had more than you, and you KNEW it. So that was over. I pretty much have 10 degrees. I don’t think I ever really talked to you about any of them. Like so many other things, they were never important to me, even though they were to you. My degrees are all bathroom wallpaper. To me, they always will be.

“Education” is NOT the measure of a person. It never has been, and never will be. Education is merely knowledge. The ability to take that knowledge and to apply it, is where, I think, true wisdom comes in. Knowledge in an of itself is useless. If you cannot apply that knowledge in real-world situations, then is does no good at all, and serves no purpose. This is why I will always feel that that education, and degrees, are worth nothing as they are.

I’m sure there are other things that I learned. Those are all very broad and “global”. They are those fundamental things, those Foundations of Life on which every other aspect is built. So in a round-about way, you gave me those things, and for that, I am indeed grateful. While I still might wish that it happened differently, such were the proverbial cards that I think you and I were dealt. I think that sometimes, the really is things that just happen by “fate”. You can’t escape them. You can’t avoid them. Destiny. Whatever words are used to describe, I think it’s all the same in the end. There’s not many things. The “important” things in life are truly about what you make of things, and the direction in which you steer your life. I have always believed that. But other things, minor things, seem predestined.

You can’t choose your family. Whether you love them, or hate them, or are somewhere in between, family is family. Like it or lump it, you’re stuck with them. That’s fate. No amount of wishing and no amount of energy will change it. That’s just the way things are with Family.

I thank God that I was able to talk to you before I left on this underway. That was important. I got to tell you I loved you. That was important. I have no regrets or words that were left unsaid. That was important. From what I’ve been told, it all happened instantly, so you didn’t have pain or suffer. That was important. I know that regardless of any arguments, hatred, or difficulties we had in life, that you DID love me in your own way; I’ve never disputed that. So that too, was important. So overall, I don’t think I could have asked God for any more than all those things.

Well, Dad, the last thing to say is always the hardest, isn’t it? The time has come to say my final words and close this letter. So here they are:

You never got to meet Dagger. In many ways, he was the personification of what “Father” meant to me. I told him things that I never, and will never, speak to another living soul. I guess, in my mind, I have to be happy with the fact that you were not the ideal “father”, but in the end, I could love you anyway. So, like I have closed every entry in my journal to Dagger, is it only fitting that I do the same to this letter.

I love you. I miss you. And I will always remember you, for the good times, and the bad, because there cannot be the one, without the measure of the other. Everything is relative. You can never see how good the “good” is, without the reference of the “bad”. In the end, it’s all about life.

So, dad, I guess this is where your journey has ended. The book has closed for you; there are no more chapters to be written. You had said many times, later in life, that you were proud of me. I can only hope now, when life for you has passed, that your legacies with me and Jonny will do your own story justice.

Good-bye my Father. I love you. I miss you. I always will, for both.

Your son.

I recently took a "Writing Exam", and this section was supposed to demonstrate your ability to take something that you're familiar with, and write a step-by-step for use by those who might not be so familiar with such things. Humor was optional, but recommended. You can let me know how I did and if it was helpful. :) So here it goes:

How to Feed Your Cat:
1) Pick up the bowl and wash it; take the anxious cat out of the bowl and put it back on the floor;
2) Select the can of food from the cupboard; take the helpful cat out of the cupboard and put it back on the floor;
3) Open the can of food; gently restrain the cat from trying to help removing the food from the can;
4) Dump as much of the food into the bowl as possible, once again, avoiding the cat’s assistance;
5) Pick up the bowl and all the food possible from the floor, from the miscoordinated human-feline operation gone awry; leave the cat on the floor to clean up the mess;
6) Stand idle for the 2.437 nanoseconds it takes the cat to get bored of the clean-up and return its attention back to the food evolution at-paw;
7) Get as much of the remaining food out of the can into the bowl before the cat begins assisting again;
8) Grasp the bowl firmly, holding it on the counter, preventing feline-assisted movement, as you are throwing the now empty can into the trash;
9) pick up the bowl - deal the with the scratches of an obviously starving-to-death feline later - and take the bowl back over to where it normally lives; disregard the incessant “mrow-mrow-mrow” sounds coming from said feral creature;
10) Put on the pre-staged welder’s gloves, and place the bowl onto the floor; when the cat attack of the food with your now-gloved hand in the way settles, step back and place the glove back where it can be used for the next feeding time;
Fini!

The Rules: This is fun to do. Just read the 'offense' and if you've done it, you owe that fine.
You don't have to confess your answers, just the amount of your fine.
NOTE: fines to be added once, not for how ever many times you have done it. And be honest.

Smoked weed -- $10
Did acid or pills -- $5
Ever had sex at church -- $25
Woke up in the morning and did not know the person who was next to you -- $40
Had sex with someone on MySpace/Facebook/Bebo/FA? etc -- $25
Had sex for money -- $100
Ever had sex with a Puerto Rican -- $20
Vandalized something -- $20
Had sex on your parents' bed -- $10
Beat up someone -- $20
Been jumped -- $10
Cross dressed -- $10
Given money to stripper -- $25
Been in love with a stripper -- $20
Kissed someone who's name you didn't know -- $0.10
Hit on some one of the same sex while at work -- $15
Ever drive and drank -- $20
Ever got drunk at work, or went to work while still drunk -- $50
Used toys while having sex -- $30
Got drunk, passed out and don't remember the night before -- $20
Went skinny dipping -- $5
Had sex in a pool -- $20
Kissed someone of the same sex -- $10
Had sex with someone of the same sex -- $20
Cheated on your significant other -- $10
Masturbated -- $10
Cheated on your significant other with their relative or close friend -- $20
Done oral -- $5
Got oral -- $5
Done / got oral in a vehicle while it was moving -- $25
Stole something -- $10
Had sex with someone in jail -- $25
Made a nasty home video or took pictures -- $15
Had a threesome -- $50
Had sex in public -- $20
Been in the same room while someone was having sex --$25
Stole something worth over more than a hundred dollars-- $20
Had sex with someone 10 years older -- $20
Had sex with someone under the age accepted by rule of thumb (half your age plus 7) -- $25
Been in love with two people or more at the same time-- $50
Said you love someone but didn't mean it -- $25
Went streaking -- $5
Went streaking in broad daylight -- $15
Been arrested -- $5
Spent time in jail -- $15
Pissed in the pool -- $0.50
Played spin the bottle -- $5
Done something you regret -- $20
Had sex with your best friend -- $20
Had sex with someone you work with at work -- $25
Had anal sex -- $80
Lied to your mate -- $5
Lied to your mate about the sex being good -- $25

Tally it up and put it on your status as: "My Fine Is..." (nothing else) then repost.


I was a good kitty in another life! Really I was!

I don’t know about the rest of you, but this year, at least for me, has started out with the proverbial “Bang!”. I’m not sure if it’s a good “bang” or a bad “bang” yet, or perhaps somewhere in between. Time will tell, undoubtedly.

For those of you keeping up-to-speed with everything, my sons are alive and well. Drifter will, I hope, never change, and is just as social as he’s always been, and is more than happy to purr at you, stuff all his closest whiskers in your ear, and of course, give you as much Tongue Burn (TM, pat pend) as possible. He will turn 11-y-o this coming March, and like all creatures of his age and species, is just starting to show that age. Macumba is on the constant improvement train. Now that he’s been at the new facility for just about a year (almost to the day) he’s finally starting to /act/ like a leopard again, completely with all the snarls, growls, grunts, and all-so-typical lunges at the wire to scare all those unwanted territory thieves away. I, of course, have to smile and feel so very and immeasurably uplifted to be his Chosen One, as with me, all the “rules” don’t apply. He’ll come up and let me rub and scritch, scratch under the chin, pull on the sacred tail, and all the while he’ll be letting out those “content leopard grumbles” which to most sound more akin to angry sounds than happy one. But, that’s just leopards for ya! He will be 7-y-o at the end of March.

I think this year will prove to be a busy one. It’s already started out that way. As things have turned out, I’m assigned to two, different strike groups, one of which I am the “Team Lead” for, which translates to “Admin Bitch”. There’s no magic to it, no added bonuses or increase in paycheck - don’t I wish! - as it’s all about getting the various paperwork and reports completed on time. I am still working with some wonderful and knowledgeable engineers, which is always a pleasure. One of the groups is an anphib, and I am very happy to be back onto a carrier for the other. Between the two groups, it will likely be a lot of “haze grey and underway!”. Somewhere in all that, will be the challenge of inserting a Real Life (TM, pat pend) into the picture somewhere.

Christmas and New Years was good, and I actually got home on time, which means I got to spend the Holidays with friends and family, which over now 15-years of Navy Life, has only happened about half of them (9, including this year, out of 15 Seasons). And in all that, has been about thirteen deployments, thirty different ships, and several hundred thousand miles of traveling about the Earth’s airways and oceans to make it all happen. Some days, there just aren’t enough hours in the day, and others, one has to stand up, and start thumping their forehead onto the closest bulkhead, just to make sure the universe is still real and hasn’t vaporized into a figment of your absurdly bored imagination. Of course, I guess all that’s just Life in such a job as this. The down-side is that for us, all we “afloat engineers”, the sailors and Marines are growing more and more dependent on our expertise, while at the same time, in the Govt’s infinite wisdom, cuts funding to more and more training vital to what they do, which means the sailors and Marines are no longer fully equipped to handle the tasks before them. I guess that means the up-side is that we engineer folk will have employment for the foreseeable future. Not exactly the ideal way to have job security! Par for the course, I guess. (Sigh).

Dreams and Goals for the New Year: Like last year, I still want to find a job a little closer to home. While I /like/ my job, being away from those I love the most is a burden. I am effectively a Geo-Bachelor, living in the Deep South, but stationed almost as far north as one can get without being a “yankee”. I’m sure like with so many things, The Spirits have something in mind. It is all the trials in life which cause you to grow and to mature, and to learn all of those lessons which you could never learn otherwise. I’m not sure what lessons The Spirits have in mind for me. Patience? Persistence? The grand fortitude to simply endure with some dignity and grace? I don’t know. That’s what faith is all about. It is not my place to /know/, but rather, to learn, whatever it might be They have chosen for me.

My family is well. My father turned 75 just a few days ago; he and his wife (also 75) still live in Central Valley California. I suspect they will forever. My mother finally retired this last year, turning 68 in December, and has taken up the calling of being a missionary, working with orphaned children around the world. She’s been a Pediatric Nurse Practitioner for more than three decades, which made her a perfect fit for the position, as she loves kids and she’s a skilled medical professional. So far, she’s been in Napal and India, and tells stories of sponge baths with luke-warm water, and even sometimes running water for the toilets. Sounds like a ship! (Sorry! Couldn’t resist!) She’ll be a part of that endeavor until October, and then decide if she wants to continue on with it for another two years. If so, she’ll come home, sell her house, and go back. My brother is still in the Sacramento CA area, but I must admit, I haven’t talked to him in years. Most of what I hear about him is through the proverbial Grapevine, or from the folks.

This phase of the Animal War is quickly winding down to a close. The last hurdle before us is to have the judge “set aside” the fraudulent Settlement Agreement, which never would have existed, had the Defendant been open and honest about maiming Macumba (not that I think it actually happened on the date they all have claimed anyway). But that entire subject will be for the next case, which if I can ever get the complaint written, will be filed within a short time after the agreement is set aside. The Defendants, of course, imagine this to be the proverbial “end”, as I have my animals, and short of harassment and such, they can do nothing more to me or my dear charges, and in their minds, imagine /I/ can do nothing more to them either. But they will soon find out, things are far, /far/ different than they perceive. Theft, trafficking in stolen property, extortion, destruction of property, conspiracy, and conspiracy to defraud are all very significant crimes (felonies, in fact), and in my opinion, the Defendants and their counsel have committed them all. So in their minds, this is the “end”. In mine, to quote the immortal words of John Paul Jones, “I have not yet /begun/ to fight!” (JPJ is from US Naval History, btw).

So, that’s the New Year at a glance. Like I said, it’s starting off with a “Bang!”, and I think you can see exactly what I mean! It will indeed be a /busy/ year!

I wish you and yours a belated Happy Holidays and a magnificent New Year. You are all in my thoughts and prayers, and I would humbly ask for you to keep me (and most especially my “little ones”) in yours.

May this next year be bright and enriching for you all!

With my Sincerest and Warmest Regards,
Shasta-Neon-Hyper-Spasti-Kitty

Well, I'm within my 24-hour window, which means I can finally post a journal.

I'm rapidly approaching 16 years in the service of my country, first as military, now as civilian, but in the end, it's all still in the Name of Freedom, and the ideals that It represents. Sometimes, it is exciting, and other times, mundane, but always, it is duty, however mediocre or magnificent as it might be.

This work-up towards deployment has been unique in many ways, but a challenge nonetheless. I don't know if it will be a good tour or bad, but I suppose that's in the hands of the Spirits.

I had mean so many times to post a few of the new pix up here, and share how well my sons are doing with everyone. A picture is worth a thousand words, but as it always seems, RL always gets in the way, and something else is always vying for attention, and at other times, demanding it. Time moves so fast. just yesterday, Drifter was a little tyke, climbing on my shoulders, chewing the sleeve off my t-shirts. Now, just overnight, I've lost him to a hostage crisis, gained him back again, spent almost a year getting reacquainted, and now going on deployment yet again. What I joy it was to actually be able to spent his 10th birthday with him. My how time flies!

Both Drifter and Macumba are doing well. Macumba is mostly recovered from all his injuries, but of course, his maiming was permanent, so there is no recovery from that. It will always astonish me how humanity can be so vindictive and cruel, as to take out their hostilities of another human being, on an innocent animal. I hope that I will never understand such a thing.

Well, I would ask that you keep me - and the ship and sailors i will deploy with - in your thoughts and prayers. it is a sometimes crazy world out there.

Take care always, and Spirits Willing, I shall post my next journal just before Christmas.

With Warm Regards,
Shasta of Felis Concolor

My Dear Readers and Watchers:

Sometimes I feel like if there were two of me, I might actually catch up with everything that I need to get done. Of course, the reality is that there isn’t, and I’m stuck with only my own two paws.

Life has been very busy as of late, with both good and bad events marking all the various milestones.

A) I’m done with yet another Strike Group, which is both a burden and a blessing. With any work-up cycle, you get to know all the various players, and you invariably gain friends and build professional relationships along the way. But in the same time-frame, you also learn who the lazy bums and difficult-to-deal-with folks are, and do your best to avoid them. Of course, invariably, those are the ones you end up dealing with the most. The Goddess Fate can be such a Bitch! So, with any end-of-deployment, there a moments to reflect on the happy thoughts, and the disappointing ones. Soon, it will all start over again, for another 18-month cycle of “goods” and “bads”, with another half-a-year (or more) away from home, taken a slice at a time.

B) After two-and-a-half years, my beloved animals have been removed from their hostage situation by Court Order, and once again, I may see them, and be with them, whenever I should desire (less still working the dang contract in Norfolk VA!). There were some grand moments indeed to be reunited with my lost sons, and I was so very uplifted that both of them remembered me without any hitch. Drifter still purrs, nuzzles, and insists on giving me tongue-burn on both arms and wrists, and Macumba still likes to talk to me and snarl at tigers who are always too close for his liking. So in one sense, the first and most important mission of the legal battle has been completed successfully. But unfortunately, because of who I’m dealing with, the battle is not over.

Because of this person’s hatred for me, they have chosen to permanently butcher and maim an innocent animal, who will now carry those scars and handicaps for the rest of his life. In his stead, I will carry on the fight, and I will not surrender that battle until they have paid for their crimes against an endangered species, or until I am utterly bankrupt. So I give oath and so I swear before Almighty God! So, the legal battle continues; the Motion for Contempt was filed, and now it’s just the wait for it to come up before the judge. I have done everything humanly possible to deal with all this professionally and civilly, but now, as they have always been, things are in the paws of The Spirits, the whims of the Justice System, and whatever wrinkles the Goddess Fate throws into the mix.

C) The position that I have been patiently waiting for, for more than two years, that I was promised in earnest “You’re at the top of the list!”, has been given to someone else. It’s no one’s fault, really. No one bothered to look at all the details, and even though I’d been asking for a qualification upgrade for several years, it never happened, and so the position ultimately has higher qualification requirements than what I possessed. So... I’m hoping that something else with turn up soon. Paying rent /and/ a mortgage is eating up a lot of budget that could be better spent elsewhere. Oh well. Such is life, I guess, in the world of government contracts.

Of course, a simple life is a boring life, and it feels most of the time that life is anything but simple! The good news is that it looks like I’m home for a small while, which will be a welcomed change from the recent past of Haze Grey and Underway!

More good news is that I actually have some /recent/ photographs! I hope to have a couple of them all set up for posting here in a very ear future. I am just so very excited about being with my kitties again! It feels great!

So, hello and howdy again to everyone out there on FA, and I hope you and yours are all well. Forgive me for the infinitely long delays in commenting and saying thanks for faves and shouts. Looks like once again, I’ll just have to nuke it all and start from scratch. I always hate doing that, but it’s just so hard to catch up, when I’m more than... (gasp!) ...seven months behind, sometimes one can just never catch up.

I wish you all well, and I hope this new year - is it half over already?!? - is going very well for you all.

Most Sincerely,
Shasta-Hyper-Spasti-Cougar-Kitty

Time is so short, isn't it? Just when you think you’re making headway, and WHAM!

I thought I’d have about 2-weeks yet, but I got notice today I’m on stand-by notice in a 48-hour emergent window. So now, I have to get everything I had intended to do over the next couple weeks, done in the next two days, including setting all the financial affairs in order, and...(gasp)... packing to be gone for about two months. There’s just nothing quite like packing everything you need for two months of your life into a single suitcase! Oh the joy!

Of course it might not be all bad. The truth is no one really knows if the schedule has changed or not. The decisions are being made half-a-dozen paygrades over my head. So the truth is I might deploy tomorrow or the next day, or I might deploy at exactly the same time as was originally scheduled. Such is the life and universe of my job. Gotta love it!

So, a couple things got moved up on the schedule. I had planned on posting the last three pictures of the Drifter Paw Study this coming weekend but post them tonight instead. No sense in procrastinating.

Anyway, I hope all you artists out there will find a grand lot of useful material and the Drifter Paw Study. Feel free to comment at your whim, as I always much appreciate comments, but don’t feel too bad if I’m unable to respond. If I just seem to drop off the planet, then it’s mostly because I did. That’s kind of what it’s like being on a ship on the other side of the world; you’re effectively off-planet.

So take care everyone! I’ll see you on the flipside, or whenever I return, whichever comes first!

Sincerely,

Shasta-Neon-Hyper-Spasti-Cougar-Kitty

This is a “meme” stolen from Emerald_Sage (http://www.furaffinity.net/user/emeraldsage)

[01] Do you have the guts to answer these questions and re-post as The Controversial Survey?
Uh...considering that it’s here, in a written form, and posted on a world-wide-accessible forum, I’d say the answer to that would be obvious.

[02] Would you do meth if it was legalized, and become a strung-out, whithered husk of a man/woman you are now?
No. I did all the drugs that looked interesting to me in my younger, crazier, more-foolish years, so I’ve gotten it all out of my system (no pun intended). Now that I am a little older and wiser (perhaps arguably in both cases), I have very little use for drugs, short of the fact that I’ve gained some valuable experience on what they are like, which can be useful when trying to counsel others about them.

[03] Abortion: for or against it?
Being that I am male, this really has limited liability or applicability to me; however, I believe that a woman has a fundamental right of choice. There are plenty of arguments for or against that approach things in every facet from biology to ethics to religion. As I counselor, I could argue from the psychological perspectives, citing such cases as rape for pro-choice. However, I look at this issue from the bigger perspective: when the government can take one of the most basic rights away from a woman, which is to say, deprive her of her right to make choices about her own body, then what right will they attempt to take next? Government has no right or jurisdiction, in my opinion, to deprive anyone of such a choice. If you are religious, then you know in your own studies about God, that the most precious gift given to us /by/ God, is the Power of Choice. I feel strongly that “man” (mankind, government, mortals, etc) does not possess the authority to remove or limit what God has granted.

[04] Do you think the world would fail with a female president?
No. I do not feel that “good leader” has anything to do with “gender”. If a woman has the credentials to be President, then I don’t think her gender has anything to do with anything. But I must point out, this is a horribly and irresponsibly slanted question. The words “...world would fail..” seems to imply that the US - I am assuming the original author of this was talking about the US President - has so much influence around the world that its collapse would cause the implosion of the universe; sorry to burst the bubble, but the world WOULD most certainly carry on.

[05] Do you believe in the death penalty?
Belief? Yes. Death Penalties DO exist. However, I think the original author of this meme might have meant: “Do you agree or disagree with the Death Penalty?” Given THAT question, I am “agree”. I am a firm believer in “a punishment to fit the crime”. If there is murder, then death is fitting justice. If there is dismemberment or maiming in the course of a crime, then equal dismemberment would be fitting justice. Of course, I have been accused of being very black-and-white. Rules are in place for a reason, as they keep the world from being a hell-hole of anarchy. “Justice” is very often a deterrent to “crime”, so I most certainly believe in “justice being served”. If people followed the rules, there would be no need for justice. In the world I live in, the vast majority of people are shitheads, so yes, I “believe” in the Death Penalty where applicable. If the crime is a speeding violation, then the Death penalty might be a bit too severe.

[06] Do you wish marijuana would be legalized already?
My response for #02 above is also applicable here. Having said that, however, there does appear to be some useful, medicinal purposes for the drug, so I am not opposed to that aspect of legalization, but I would also argue, there are plenty of other, just as effective, pain relief meds out there, that I don’t think one more is going to be the be-all-end-all of pain meds.

[07] Are you for or against premarital sex?
“Premarital” is very definitively a religious assertion. I firmly believe in the separation of church and state. Sex, or having sex, should be about love, and the desires and affections of consenting “adults”, not religious rhetoric, fire, and brimstone. I think that sex can be a very healthy and nurturing intimacy shared between two people. All moral and ethical considerations aside, sex inside, or outside, of marriage should be participated in maturely and responsibly. Sex for pleasure is fine and dandy, as long as the participants are both willing, and understand that aside from said pleasure, it’s about biological function and reproduction, and bringing unwanted offspring into the word is just stupid and irresponsible, so be safe not imbecilic. Secondly, /if/ the only reason for marriage or a “relationship” is for sex, then statistically speaking, it’s destined for failure.

[08] Do you believe in God?
Absolutely. I have studied science and physics all of my life, and there are just too many bizarre happenstances that would have to have happened for everything in the universe to have come about by “chance”. The mathematical probabilities are astronomical at best. Plus, there are many “unexplainable” things that happen. Some call it “paranormal”. Some call it “spirits”. Some call it “God”. Pick your word. My point is, SOMETHING out there MAKES things happen. Of course, there are a gazillion arguments for and against the existence of a God or the Evolutionary Theory. In the end, there isn’t enough empirical data to draw an unequivocal conclusion for /either/ one, so in the end, you must simply pick one or the other, take that leap of pure and unadulterated faith, and push the big, red, “I Believe” button in the center of your forehead. In my case, I look at a cat, or a wolf, and I simply refuse to believe that such a beautiful and magnificent creature could have happened by chance; I believe in God.

[09] Do you think same sex marriage should be legalized?
“Marriage” is a biblically defined word. I do not believe that anyone alive today has the right to either dispute or change that definition; it seems to have worked as-is for the last 2000 or so years, so it should probably still be good-to-go for another couple millennia. So if it’s about terminology and the definition of a word or the /changing/ of a definition of a word, then “no”; I am opposed to the definition change. If it’s about two people that love each other and nurture each other, having the legal rights to be with each other, and are guaranteed the SAME rights, freedoms, responsibilities, and privileges, as opposite-gender couples, then “yes” absolutely I am for it.

[10] Do you think it's wrong that so many Hispanics are illegally moving to the USA?
By the use of the term “Hispanic”, I would place this question into the firmly “racially motivated” realm. From my perspective, the US has very definitive and arguably strict rules for entry and naturalization, as do many other countries. Those rules should be followed. For those that you don’t follow the rules, there are penalties, which I feel should be enforced unilaterally, and without bias or prejudice. It is not hard to get into this country LEGALLY. It is not that hard to become a citizen LEGALLY. Yes, it requires patience and commitment, and like so many other things in life, a perhaps grand tolerance for a bit of lunacy. If any immigrant of ANY nationality, is not willing to do what it takes to “follow the rules” then my personal opinion is that they are NOT welcome here. It has nothing to do with race or with nationality. I think this same principle applies to any race and any nation. In my opinion, if someone is not willing to follow the rules with something so basic as entering a country legally, then it says something about their basic nature and in my view, represents a lack of integrity, and they should be kindly but firmly sent back to their country of origin.

[11] A twelve year old girl has a baby, should she keep it?
This question simply cannot be real. Legally, that is not an option, at least in the US, so my opinion matters very little. However, I do not feel that there is any good that comes from children having children. There are “adults” that have children, who should NOT have had children! So my answer to this question is “No; absolutely not!” Statistically speaking, a 12-year-old does not have the maturity, nor the means, to keep and raise a child of their own. Can 12-year-olds even legally get a job? What’s their resume say?

[12] Should the alcohol age be lowered to eighteen?
Yes. If someone can die in the service of their fellow citizens and country, then they should be able to have a very stiff drink first. I feel that the “drinking age” is not about “age” but “maturity”. People of EVERY age get drunk and do stupid things. If you can drink, and act responsibly, then I don’t see why an established “drinking age” is necessary. I know some 40-year-olds that are not “old enough” to drink responsibly.

[13] Should the war in Iraq be called off?
Not instantly, no, but I am a firm believer that the Iraqi people should VERY quickly step up and take charge of their country and their own people and affairs. But, for good or ill, all the allies (including the US) stepped up to the proverbial plate to topple the tyrannical dictatorship that was once in place in that country, and, by good or ill, I feel strongly that we - those same allied nations - have a duty and responsibility to the Iraqi people to safeguard their freedoms and privileges until they can safeguard and tend to their own. In the simplest of terms, any nation on this earth, that has gained the monumental privilege of Freedom, has very definitively paid for it with blood! The US was no different, although people so very much like to forget that fact. In this case, the Iraqi people also, are paying for Freedom with blood, both their own, and those of the allies that are fighting with them. Is it worth the cost? Yes! Freedom is most certainly worth the cost! I morn for my brothers- and sisters-in-arms. I abhor the loss of life and the reckless bloodshed that goes with any war, but I believe strongly and profoundly in the Ideals of Freedom, and I believe that such ideals are absolutely and without question worth fighting for. I once volunteered my /own/ blood to maintain the fight for Freedom; I came through unscathed, but so many of my brothers and sisters have not. They have paid the supreme and noble price for an ideal which they held dear enough to grant to someone /else/! How noble indeed! To honor /them/, those felled in battle, whether those battles might be arguably “foolish” or otherwise, requires us to carry on the fight until those we fight /with/ can fight on their own. I pray in earnest for a quick “withdrawl”, but I prey even /more/ earnestly, that the Ideal of Freedom, shall never pass away from this earth, and shall be available to all those people, of every nation on earth, that desire it, and are willing to fight for it.

[14] Assisted suicide is illegal: do you agree?
This is a topic very similar to #03 above. I feel that nothing of this nature can be defined in “absolute” terms. If there is, medically speaking, the possibility for the continuation of life, and significant probability of return to a reasonable quality-of-life, then I am opposed to euthanasia (aka “assisted suicide”). If someone is terminally ill, with /no/ hope of recovery, and is destined to a diminishing quality-of-life, with eventaully rapid descent into pain an agony, then I am all /for/ euthanasia. In the most basic terms, it /should/ be legal, but decided with the utmost care and judgement, on a case-by-case basis. If we have the legal right to be protected from “cruel and unusual punishment”, then shouldn’t we /also/ have the right to be exempted from the pain and agony of a terminal and debilitating illness? In my mind, /both/ have “humane treatment” at their hearts and souls. I cannot philosophically differentiate between them.

[15] Do you believe in spanking your children?
Kind of a trick question. I firmly believe in “accountability” and “responsibility”. Children should be taught that there ARE rules, and that there ARE consequences for not following them, and yet others FOR following them. The “method of enforcement” for those consequences should both “fit the crime” and “fit the child”. Some children respond well to verbal reinforcement of rules. If they break a rule, the consequence can be something simple like taking away phone privileges, or something else of that nature. Other children need a much firmer approach, such as getting spanked. I believe that child-rearing is not a cut-and-dried or black-and-white topic. There is a LOT of psychology that goes into raising a child. One thing is very certain; children do not come with an “owners manual”. So, I’ll answer this one a little differently than a “black-and-white” response. I believe in punishment appropriate for the offense and for the mental function. And what I mean by “mental function”, is that one size does NOT fit all. Use the right tool for the job. A phillips screwdriver doesn’t work well with slotted screws. Likewise, “spanking” won’t be effective - have the desired results - for all children. “Spanking” CAN be effective. It was for me, and many people that I know. But for my brother, not so much. For others that I know, not so much. So my point here is that “discipline”, as a methodology for teaching responsibility and accountability, is an integral part of child rearing. Statistically speaking, spanking as a black-and-white, blanket policy for discipline is not going to be very effective.

[16] Would you burn an American flag for a million dollars?
It depends entirely on the context of the action. There is nothing inherently wrong with burning a flag. It is, in fact, the only way to properly dispose of a flag. So if the act is JUST and ONLY about lighting a flag on fire, making it burn to ash, and then picking up my cold, hard, unsequential, unmarked greenbacks, then sign me up! If it’s about some form of political statement, intended to disgrace the symbology or meaning of the flag, then I just don’t need $1-mil that badly. I see the flag of my country as the Symbol of the Ideal of Freedom. In that light, perhaps it’s cliche’ish to say, but what is the price of Freedom? A bit more than $1-mil bucks, in my humble opinion.

[17] Who do you think would make a better president? McCain or Obama?
The word “better” is entirely subjective. Given any specific set of criteria, either one could be considered “better” than the other. McCain has talents, and Obama has talents. Both have arguably done well for their constituents. Both, I believe, would be effective leaders of the United States, but obviously for different reasons, and in different ways. Unfortunately, because the very nature of this question is subjective to individual opinion, I do not have an answer in this venue. I look at things a little differently. Specifically, I feel that the best measure of a person as a leader should be based on their actions in leadership roles, and whether the decisions they make demonstrate adherence to the principle of “of the people, for the people, and by the people”, or if there are “special interests” that trump the “for the people” part. The “bail-out” bill was my deciding factor. I feel this bill was essentially a bandaid on a bandaid on a bandaid, and I agree with the gazillion economists and business people that stood up as said “this won’t work”. The very businesses that are being “bailed out” had /already/ demonstrated [in my opinion, in some cases /criminal/] irresponsibility, and yet, the government leaders in the house and senate, felt like it was a good Idea to give them even /more/ money, paid for by you and I this time, to try is all again. Some of those business have already demonstrated a /second/ time, that they’re just as imbecilic the second time around. (For proof of this assertion, check out some recent news regarding the “retreats” for AIG and Lehman Brothers executives). In my opinion - and the opinions of millions of Americans, including economists and business people - this bill was not a wise proposal, and voting for it was not a sound decision. The records show that both McCain and Obama voted “yes” on the bill. I do not feel that anyone that truly has the best interests of this nation and its people could, in good conscience, vote /for/ this bill, especially given the absurd amount of “pork bellies” that it contained. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury: I submit to you, that the votes in Washington DC ARE absolutely For Sale to the highest bidder! Name your pork belly, and you too can have that vote! In summary, I cannot, in good conscience, vote for either of the two, major-party candidates. I respect McCain for his candor and as a fellow naval service member. I respect Obama because of his ideas and his refreshing charisma. I respect them both as elected and dedicated leaders for their constituents and our country. But “better” is relative.

[18] Are you afraid others will judge you from reading some of your answers?
Afraid? Not at all. I am an anonymous, digital personification of a long-dead exotic feline, posting comments on a site that display mostly anthropomorphic artworks. Are ANY of us firmly rooted in reality? Given that truth, I’m not sure that anyone here has the /right/ to judge anyone else, and even if they /did/, I’m not sure I’d put much value or weight in their judgement. If the question is really to ask: “Are you afraid of offending someone else with your answers?” then the answer is also “No; not at all.” Everyone has the right to their own opinion. Freedom guarantees that right. Of course, by the same token, it also guarantees that NO ONE has the right to subject anyone else to that opinion. These responses here are /my/ opinions, and mine alone. If someone out there is offended by my opinions, then that is their problem and not mine. They were not forced at gunpoint or with threat of bodily harm to read my opinions; they did so of their own free will, and have no one but themselves to blame for their feelings of offence. With that fact having been stated, any flames or attempted challenges or arguments to these opinions will be most cheerily ignored. If you wish to express your own opinions, then feel free to comment to your heart’s content! I most certainly encourage it. Or even better yet, steal the meme and fill it all out, and post it as your own journal. I’ll even read it if you want me to. :)

Sometimes, you just want to growl and snarl at things! Let me give you a few examples that I think most folks can relate to:

People being late to appointments - or not showing at all - when you’ve set time aside for them when you could have - or much rather would have - been doing something else.

People who drive 40 in a 55 zone on 2-lane country roads, where there’s no way to pass, and it’s /miles/ to the next intersection or junction.

Terminal procrastinators whose lack of planning somehow always end up being /my/ problem to solve, especially when they think such lack-of-planning should constitute an emergency on my part.

Dealing with people who are just (filter filter filter) ...er... unreasonable just for the sake of being such, which ultimately cause a lot of problems for everyone!

Don’t ya just /hate/ all those things?! Yeah. Me too.

And sometimes, I /do/ indeed growl and snarl and vent about it all. Of course, sometimes, I catch myself, and try to think about things in a different light.

I always try to keep in mind that life is a strange journey, with lots of ups and downs, ins and outs, and sideways jaunts. Occasionally, we get back onto the same track again, and sometimes, probably more often than we like, we have turned away from those old roads forever, never to travel them again.

Different people react in different ways, to different things. I’ve noticed that as I’ve gotten older, I don’t like change. I like being where I am, doing what I do, where everything is routine and comfortable. I don’t like surprises, and I don’t like the topsy-turvy unpredictables that Real Life (TM, Patent Pending) tends to throw our way at the least opportune moments. But of course, the reality check is “That’s just life! Welcome, and enjoy your stay!”

Life can be a fickle thing, and time, unfortunately, is always fleeting, especially when you think you’ve got all of it in the universe. I know this all too well. It might be surprising to think about things that seem like they happened just yesterday, but when you /really/ think about them, you realize that it /wasn’t/ just yesterday, but (gasp!) two /years/ ago now. My how time flies, huh? Tomorrow comes so very quickly, and flies right on past, making way for the new tomorrow that’s still to come, leaving today and yesterday forever in the past and indelible.

I know all too well that life can sometimes be overwhelming. Sometimes, we have so many proverbial irons in the fire at once, that things can seem impossible to keep up with. Loved ones pass away. Friends and relatives get married. Others get divorced. New job opportunities come up. Old ones close. Moving is /always/ an adventure! Where the /hell/ is the coffee maker?! And when we stop and take stock in where we are and the roads we’ve traveled recently, it’s sometimes a bit surprising to think of all the distance we’ve traveled, and all the windy roads, hills, dales, and even those long straight-aways we’ve traveled. How many bridges have we crossed? How much water has passed below them? How many bridges have we come up on, that were “out”, and we had to turn around and fine another path, a detour, to get us back onto the track that we’d planned for ourselves? How many times do we simply get caught up on the /new/ path, and never manage to get /back/ to the original road we thought wanted to go down? But as I said, life is a strange thing, and the only thing for certain, is that you seldom end up where you planned on being. That too, I think, is just part of life.

So, by now, you’re probably asking: “What the HECK does all this have to do with the ‘Growls and snarls’ thing that you started with?!” I guess it’s all about perspective. Sometimes, you have to try and keep in mind that while /you/ are going through all of your life’s ups and downs, that /other/ people are /also/ going through their own ups and downs.

Those people that’re late? Maybe a loved one got into an automobile accident, and are in the hospital now.

Those folks that’re driving 40 in a 55 zone? Maybe their house is in foreclosure, and they’re thinking about how to pay the bills as they’re driving from their night job to their day job.

How about those terminal procrastinators? Maybe it’s not “procrastination” at all, but rather, organization at its finest, prioritizing the hottest fires first, and the largest alligators first, and struggling to keep up with everything, and sometimes, they reach out for help.

And dealing with unreasonable people? Who knows. Maybe, they’re just in that low hump of a “down cycle” of their own. We’ve all been there, I think. Sometimes, I think I’ve had more than my share, but I’m probably biased.

A rather famous Native American proverb always sticks in my mind: “Never judge your neighbor until you have walked a mile in his moccasins.” I am, so very often guilty of doing just that - judging people - when I have /not/ stopped to consider their situation.

Life can be crazy. I don’t think there’s one among us that haven’t been /there/ more than a few times during life. But if I may, I’d like to offer some wisdom for those of you out there, perhaps reading this, who might indeed be on one of those Life’s Downsides.

1) Stop and look around often. In the go-go-go, hustle-and-bustle, gotta-get-it-done-right-now-now-now world that we live in, we sometimes forget that we /need/ to stop and get our bearings. We /need/ to stop and do the Sanity Check, to see where we are, and to take a moment to plot that position on the proverbial map, and take stock in where we’ve been, and where we still need to go. Usually, I find that I’m a /lot/ closer to the destination than I thought, and that all those detours I’ve been taking, were just /not/ necessary. So, by stopping and taking that look around, we can get our bearings again, and perhaps see that some of those things that were so overwhelming, only /seemed/ important, but in fact, /weren’t/. Then, we can plot a new course, and perhaps leave out all the superfluous and unnecessary detours.

2) Embrace those things that bring you peace. Life /can/ indeed get very overwhelming. Sometimes, if you feel that you’re just trapped in a blizzard, and don’t know which way is up or down or sideways, then just stop, put /everything/ on hold for a moment, and take some time - perhaps only a few minutes or an hour - to do those things that you /love/ so very much. Sketch some non-sensical thing that’s in your head. Play through a piece that you know and love on the piano. Write a poem about your very first love. Go into the bathroom, turn off the lights - or anywhere that’s very quiet - put on your headphones, and listen to your very favorite song a few times. And because I’m weird, go outside and mow the lawn, as I find so very often that there’s monumental peace to be found in hard work. You would be surprised how much better things will be, even after just a very few minutes of peace and tranquility, how that blizzard that was wailing away on you just moments ago, has calmed down a whole lot by the time you’re ready to trek out into it all again.

3) Remind yourself of the Important Things in Life. Sometimes, if you /really/ stop and take stock in the situations around you, you might be shocked to realize that so much of what you do, everyday, that consumes so very much of your energy, is really very trivial and unimportant. You worry about things that you cannot change or cannot effect in any way. You constantly fret about the “what if” when, for the most part, things are never that bad, and you didn’t /need/ to plan for every contingency. For me, my reminders are all in picture form. I have pictures of my cats. There’s Dagger, and Drifter, and even the Macumba-Monster. Looking at pictures of them reminds me that /they/ are what make me happy, and that everything /else/ in life, is just a “means-to-an-end”. They are what’s important, not all the mundane vagaries like “job” and “money” and “bills”. Sure, all those other things play a role, but they are “necessities” vice “important”, and there’s a big difference. Sometimes, we can lose sight of that.

In my own life, I’m subject to all the same things, no differently than anyone else. I still have a job that takes me effectively off-planet for months at a time. I still have the ongoing Battle for the Animals which continues, although I think there is finally the light at the end of the tunnel. I have a facility in CA and a few days ago, a very possible facility in FL opened up, so that's now a third option on the table. Now the /real/ battle will start, as the person who’s holding my animals hostage has the singular intent of never letting me take my animals from their possession. From their perspective, damn legalities, damn the laws, and damn ownership! They live in their own little world, and play by their own rules, and for whatever reason, feel they are neither subject to, nor accountable to, the laws and “rules” of Society, just like everyone else. I deploy in November - it's been a busy year - and won’t see the US again until January. Such is my life.

So, those are my words-of-wisdom to share. Whenever you feel like growling at someone, don’t forget to consider that maybe there’s more going on behind-the-scenes than meets the proverbial eye. When you’re ready to snarl at someone, try to be understanding of what /they/ might be going thru. Are they so different from you? Can’t they /also/ have issues going on in their lives? As the cliche’ goes: “A little understanding can go a long ways!”. I think that’s very true.

Wherever you are, in your own Journey of Life, I wish you well. Stop every now any again to have a look around. Get your bearings. Take stock in who and what you are. Sometimes, taking a deep breath and holding it for just a moment can let you see that things aren’t always as bad as they seem. Things aren’t as hectic. Remember what’s important, and what’s /not/, and /embrace/ those things that’re important.

Think Happy Thoughts. You /will/ make it through all the rough times.

With Warm Sincerity,
Neon-Hyper-Spasti-Kitty

Hello Everyone!

First off, I need to say "ThankYouThankYouThankYou!" to everyone that's fave'd, commented, or watched over the past several months. To say I have been very negligent in getting here and thanking each one of you individually is putting it mildly. So, I must ask you all for forgiveness in advance, as even though I'd like to get caught up, with some (gasp) 300 such comments to make, I don't think I'll ever manage, so, with much regret, I'm simply going to push the proverbial "nuke 'em all!" button, and start with a clean slate.

For those of your that I'm not directly responding too for faves and shouts and watches, this does not mean that you are any less important to me, or that I am purposefully ignoring you. It's more that sometimes, things just get really busy, and life sneak up on you, pounces the snot out of you, and then bites you in the tail. So...

Over the weekend, I hope to have the time to finish some long-overdue projects, and getting caught up on comments and such - which I am /not/ nuking - is on my to-do list. :)

I will also try do a few posts, as it's been just about forever since I have. Anybody have any requests? I was pondering something like a "tiger facial study" as the next submission for the Balaa Artist Conspiracy. There should also be something of the written variety, which will likely be another short from the "Day in the Life!" series.

Okie, I think I'm off and runnin'! I hope all of you out there in FA-Land are well!

See ya where the 'trons meet!

Most Sincerely,
Shasta-Hyper-Neon-Spasti-Kitty

Hello Everyone!

If there’s one lesson the of the world that I’ve learned it’s that very seldom do things happen as we might want them to. In that light, I would have wished for a calm and serene Holiday Season. Instead, I have had a very busy one, with elements of both good and bad.

My Battle-for-the-Animals still continues, but is thankfully winding down to a much less-than fever pitch. Being that the defendant in the case so adamantly avoided any kind of negotiation, the judge /ordered/ the case to mediation. After a grueling 12-hour day, said defendant, whether realizing it on their own or with the acceptance of advice from their attorney (who was getting extremely frustrated with their client), finally came to some agreement. Most of the case is now settled, as in, we have an agreement in writing. This /is/ of course good, but I’ve worked too long with this person to imagine that it’s anything but far from over. There are still issues to fight. They will not accept things easily; nor do I think will they abide by the agreement, just because they signed their name on the line on a page. Had they been honorable and ethical from the beginning, none of this would have come to the “lawsuit” stage. So many time, they have given their “word” on something, even in writing, and then promptly disregard it. For someone that refuses to be accountable for anything that they do or say, and earnestly believe that the universe revolves around them, I know that there will still be some uphill battles to fight, and I will still retain my attorneys to continue on in the legal arena, as this has become the only solution; there is still much legal leverage that can be brought to bear, and likely will /need/ to be before it is all “over”.

Work is work. Nothing much to say about this one. With any job, there are up times, and down times. Lately, I’ve been in the down times. Of course, I cannot blame that entirely on the job. Again, things don’t always go as planned. Unexpected things happen, and sometimes the “recovery process” can be a challenge. So it’s best to keep the ears perked, the whiskers forward, and plod along smartly and briskly along; things will eventually start looking up again. In truth, much of my real-world problems are weighing on me heavily, which is no doubt a contributing force to my trials in the workplace. I always try to keep work and personal-life separate, but it has been difficult to do as of late. But again, I know that things /will/ improve; I have faith in that.

Overall, it has been a most excellent Holiday Season. My mother is safely into her new house after an 18-month battle to get it built (including a contractor that was robbing her blind), so I am grateful to have been able to spend Christmas with her and help her a bit to get move into her new territory. My family is very well and in good health; my brothers are all fine and still moving forwards in their Journeys-of-Life; even my son is well, though at times struggling with situations of his own, including some very generous ear-boxings from me at all-too-often increments; my close friends are all well. I can’t complain, all things considered.

With the busy-busy-busy life as of late, I have become negligent in so many things. My “to do” list is steadily growing, as more items are being added to it faster than items are getting completed and marked off. One of my goals for this weekend is to knock a lot of those smaller items off that list, and get it back to a more manageable size. There are emails to write, which sometimes take some time, and of course, the postings to FA that I have not done for some time. I did not write my traditional 31-Dec Journal as I have done for many years, and that too needs to be remedied. All of these things are important, and /need/ to be addressed. That is the core of my weekend’s plans, especially that I have a long weekend. Yippee!

To all those watching out there, thank you for being here and taking an interest. I wish you all a sincere - though belated - Best Wishes for this new year. The future is bright; never lose your faith in that. The journey before you is limitless in opportunity, and as always, you have my sincere encouragement in all that you do. If you are in hard times, then accept this digital hug to give you some strength to persevere. If you are in happy times, then accept this smile and laughter to brighten your path. As always, never forget that there /are/ people out there that love you and cherish your friendship; perhaps they do not always have the word they need to tell you, but it does not change the truth. Perhaps they remain at a distance, but it does not mean they are not there for you.

I bid you all a Happy New Year! I will continue my prayers and meditations to the Spirits that they will be with you all in every journey that lies ahead, whether in troubled seas and storms, or fair winds and gentle tides. I hope that the dawning of this new year has brought you blessings and bright hopes and aspirations for a new year and perhaps the beginnings of new journeys to accompany it.

Most Sincerely and With Warmest Regards,
Neon-Hyper-Spasti-Cougar-Kitty (aka ShastaCat)

For those of you that remember, a while back I posted my "essay" from 2003 called "Defending the Flag". I was a bit surprised to find a reply to that essay.

It took me a while to actually respond to the reply, but I felt it appropriate to post it here (with permission of course), just in case folks might like to read what I wrote. So without further ado...


The Reply:
I am in no way intending to disgrace you or your writings...

"It's a grand ole flag and it's nothin but a rag."

To back that statement up... lemme ask you this question...

How many flags are manufactured everyday in another country and sold here in the United States?

Why do we allow fools and your "Free" people to take that flag and desecrate it by dropping it on the ground, spitting on it or allowing them to burn it.

Were that flag more than "just a rag," we'd shoot every S.O.B. that treated the symbol of this once great nation with such disrespect.

What about Iwo Jima? How many boys were killed pulling off that "patriotic" and "morale boosting" stunt?

Yes, we honor those boys and remember that they were doing something grand. Stupid, but grand and it will be remembered for a long time from now.

And the USS Arizona is another bitter point. You can dig through history to find out exactly what happened there and why that memorial is there to this day.

Hopefully it will remind the politicians to keep their damn fingers out of the military running and help the generals and admirals make the right decisions... instead of letting so many of our young men die.

To honor that flag... we need to protect it, not let it be run over roughshod. Burn another country's flag in a public place and see how many of them try to lynch YOU. What do we do here... "Oh! That is freedom of speech!"

BS!



Response to Reply: 02Oct07

Sir (someone, left blank for a bit of anonymity):
I had intended on responding to this long ago, but in the end, I never did. I’m sorry for that. Now that I’m back out here, doing what I do, it’s time that I make up for that, and put some time into a proper response.
You bring up many points, and in truth, most of them are right on. I can’t dispute them. All I can really do is speak to the facts that I know, and what I hold dear.
Forgive me that I’m going to run down your remarks, essentially line by line in response, as I don’t want to miss any points.

I am in no way intending to disgrace you or your writings...

No insult is taken at all. Again, you have brought up some very pointed but good remarks.

"It's a grand ole flag and it's nothin but a rag."

The flag, while just a “rag” and fabric, is more representative of an ideal. While everyone sees something different when they look at their country’s flag, when I look at the US flag, I see “freedom”. I see the ideals of being able to live your life as full as your dreams and means will allow. I see the right to speak your mind, constructively and creatively, to better society. I’ll speak more to this in a moment, as Free Speech isn’t nearly as grand as the media feels it is.
So what I’m really saying here is that the flag is nothing but a symbol for something much grander, at least, in my opinion. Others, of course, see things differently.

To back that statement up... lemme ask you this question...

How many flags are manufactured everyday in another country and sold here in the United States?

From my understanding, out of all the US flags manufactured, 90% of them are made on foreign soil. To me, this is tantamount to sacrilege, as it simply represents that the flag is not sacred, but a mere bauble to be bought and sold as a commodity, made by the cheapest bidder, and sold at the greatest profit for those who desire to have one.
Even the words “Made in the USA” are a fallacy, because the lawmakers have decided, in their infinite wisdom, that “made” doesn’t have to mean “manufactured”. Now, according to those new laws, “made”, and mean that something as insignificant as a single label can be sewn in, in the US, and then it’s “legal” to claim that the whole thing was “Made in the USA” because technically, the /label/ was indeed made in the USA. To me, “Made in the USA” still means “Made in the USA”, as in 100% of whatever product, was made on US soil, in US factories, by US citizens’ hands. But again, other people see things differently.

Why do we allow fools and your "Free" people to take that flag and desecrate it by dropping it on the ground, spitting on it or allowing them to burn it.

Were that flag more than "just a rag," we'd shoot every S.O.B. that treated the symbol of this once great nation with such disrespect.

What about Iwo Jima? How many boys were killed pulling off that "patriotic" and "morale boosting" stunt?

Yes, we honor those boys and remember that they were doing something grand. Stupid, but grand and it will be remembered for a long time from now.

If you’ll forgive me for getting a bit philosophical on you, it really, in my mind, goes back to the fact that the flag isn’t what’s sacred; it’s the ideal of freedom that it represents. So to your first point, flag burning, what does it really mean? Does desecrating the flag by dropping it on the ground, or even burning it really mean anything? Some would say “yes”. I, for one, say no. While it /does/ show disrespect for the item itself, the flag, does it really put a dent in the ideal that it represents? No. I don’t think so. People that burn flags or place them on the ground and tread on them really don’t know what they’re doing. They’re being silly and childish fools. “Freedom” goes much beyond nationality and boarders and lines drawn on maps. It is an ideal as grand as humanity itself, and it knows no boundaries of race, creed, or color. Burn the flag? So what? While they might see it as insulting the US - which it /is/ in many ways - it is still a foolish and childish act, as it means nothing. Insult the US? Fine. Go ahead. While many of us feel a very personal about such things, has it changed anything? Is the country less, now that it’s been insulted? No; I don’t think so. Is “freedom” any less of a magnificent thing? No; I don’t think so. The flag, dropped to the ground, or held aloft and burned, is just a rag, because those that do such things will never understand what it /really/ means. “Freedom” is so much more vast than a mere piece of colored fabric. “Freedom”, by virtue and by nature, /must/ allow such atrocities to happen, as that’s part of what “freedom” is. Can we truly have freedom if we cannot speak out freely against those tyrannies that would oppress the speakers? Can we truly have freedom if the very symbol of that freedom is more sacred than the freedom itself?
The answers to these questions vary from person to person. It’s all a matter of how you see “freedom”, and what it means to you, personally. Is “freedom” something that you “have”, or is it something that you “are”? I will always believe that Freedom is something that I “have”, because I have fought for it, because I have served my fellow man in guardianship of it. For those that believe in the “are” theory, I don’t believe they have never been faced with losing it, and really don’t understand what it is.
Freedom is not a birthright. It’s not something that is bestowed by virtue of nationality. Freedom is something that is possessed because it was bought and paid for with blood. It /must/ be forever nurtured and protected. It must be constantly upheld and vigilantly guarded, or it will slip away and be lost. Something that you “are” is forever, like genetics. Something that you “have” is merely a possession, which means it can be lost, or broken, or betrayed.
Perhaps, it sounds like I’m talking in circles. At one point, I speak that the flag is sacred, and in the next moment, I’m saying that it nothing but a rag. Again, it goes back to what the flag /means/. The flag in and of itself, means nothing; what it /represents/, however, is monumental. It’s not about the flag; it’s about the ideal that it symbolizes. And that’s not just true of the US flag; it’s true for any flag, of any country on this earth. To the people of those lands, it holds special meaning, and it symbolizes their ways of life, no less than ours does us and ours.
Iwo Jima... There has been entire books written on the events that surrounded those /two/ flag raisings, so I won’t pretend to speak with any kind of authority of knowledge. “Politics” can sometimes directly oppose the ideals of Freedom. In my mind, the entire reason for that second flag raising was politics. The fact that the flag was raised is a significant event in and of itself. Even there, on that island, during that turbulent time in two nation’s histories, it was still representative of an ideal. That ideal, rather than the flag itself, was what I believe all those Marines were really fighting for. But to raise it up, proudly and defiantly, in the presence of their enemy, was all the mor pointed, not for the flag, but for the ideal, that while so many countless lives were lost in that and other battles that covered the globe, it was a bold and aggressive statement to every eye that should gaze upon it, then, and forever after, that this thing called “Freedom” shall be tried, and tested, but will not fall away quietly. We will forever fight for it, and nurture and protect it, and if need be, spill our very blood for it. Whatever it takes, in our guardianship over the ideal of Freedom, we shall do, then, in the past, in the here-and-now, and into the future.
I think, that the Marines on Iwo Jima, knew what Freedom was. I think it was personal. It would be foolish for me to think that they all gave their lives willingly, but I think - I like to believe - that most of them gave their lives knowingly. Was it “just a flag”? Not at all. It was a symbol, for all the world to see and gaze upon, that said that Freedom would forever and eternally be fought and died for. Freedom would be protected, and if the blood of our own and of our peers was the price to be paid, then it /would/ be paid. There would be no cost too great or sacrifice to grand that would allow us to falter in our duty, our sacred calling, to protect that ideal of Freedom. That’s what the Marines and sailors on Iwo Jima were /really/ doing, in my humble opinion.
What is the price of Freedom? Blood. That’s almost always been the way of things. Pick your battle, pick your war, but it’s always been the same ideal that we - and other nations - have fought to protect. Some, indeed, have paid the ultimate price, but in the end, Freedom remains. Politics certainly paints an ugly blot onto the sacrifices that those peoples have paid, as it has always done and as it will always do in the future, but I don’t think that even the shame of politics can mar the glory of Freedom.

And the USS Arizona is another bitter point. You can dig through history to find out exactly what happened there and why that memorial is there to this day.

Here again, politics and other things will go to mar the memories of those events. And perhaps I am biased, as this was a Navy ship, and those sailors my brothers, but I don’t see them in any different light. Were they fighting for Freedom? Not in the most grand of senses. But their ship was their home. It was their sacred ground. Fate was against them, but I will always believe that they fought valiantly to protect their home, to keep her afloat, but in the end, it was a futile battle. Does that make their sacrifice any less meaningful? I don’t think so. To those sailors and Marines that died there, that paid the ultimate price, are they any less Warriors for Freedom than the troops that fought on Guadalcanal or Iwo Jima or Midway? I don’t think so. All had their role to play. I think that for those that watched the ARIZONA go up in a fireball, it solidified in their minds, it fortified their mighty resolve, that those friends and brothers would not have died in vain.
Today, I think that for those that truly know the price and the ideal of Freedom, that walks across the deck of that once great ship, I think it instills in them the same resolve.
I know that things are different for everyone. Maybe some can walk across that concrete slab, and look down at the rusting hulk, and not feel anything. But I do. What I felt was almost overwhelming. I shed my tears for those that rested solemnly in that watery tomb. But at the same time, I was filled with a sense of meaning and purpose. Below me, rested those of an era past, but what they fought for, and died for, was still worthy of being protected today. In the most simple of terms, that made them my brothers, and I theirs. It was a different world and a different Navy with different weapons and different ships, but the ideal and the purpose of our existence was exactly the same, spanning all the eons of time that had passed between us.

Hopefully it will remind the politicians to keep their damn fingers out of the military running and help the generals and admirals make the right decisions... instead of letting so many of our young men die.

Even here, and forevermore into the future, politics will forever run rampant. Even today, this is true, just as it was in the world wars, as it will be in the future. It is a blot on the very soul of what Freedom stands for, but it is an evil that has existed from the moment the very foundations of the societies of man were carved, and so it shall remain as long as societies shall exist.

To honor that flag... we need to protect it, not let it be run over roughshod. Burn another country's flag in a public place and see how many of them try to lynch YOU. What do we do here... "Oh! That is freedom of speech!"

BS!

Indeed, many countries hold their flags in a much different light than we do ours. To them, it is the symbol of their country. To desecrate it is to desecrate the country. An insult to it, is to insult the country, and the people of it. By the same token, many Americans feel the same about their own country’s flag. I once did, but I don’t any more. I see our flag as something that is much bigger than this nation or the people that inhabit it. Indeed, it is much, much bigger than the politicians that claim to lead it.
The flag to me, is the symbol that represents the entire ideal of Freedom. Even trod upon, or burned, it doesn’t change what it represents. It merely reminds us that there are hardships to face, and that Freedom is still something that we will have to fight for and protect, with our very blood if need be.
The claim of “Freedom of Speech”, in my experience and humble opinion (biased though it might be), is most often used by the irresponsible who don’t know or understand what Freedom is, or what it means to have it. Having the freedom to speak doesn’t automatically mean than you /should/. The mass media of this country is well known for touting that what they see as “freedom of speech”, and most often, they are the largest abusers of that very freedom. Freedom is an awesome responsibility, and like I said in my essay, it is not something that is simply a right that I possess because I am an American and the Constitution says that I do. It is a right because Freedom was bought and paid for by our fellow citizens. It is easy for the media to trod on the rights that they know nothing about, and do very little to protect.
Personally, I feel it incredibly irresponsible to attempt to hide behind the very freedom that enables them to spew their pointless vomit of gossip and nonsense, and more often than not, present things specifically in ways that will put people into an uproar. It’s not about reporting “news”; it’s about getting people into enough of a tizzy that they’ll watch, because it’s all about ratings. Because of that, the media often present half-truths in purposefully misleading ways, just because they can. The accuracy of fact is irrelevant when you can hide behind such neat ideals as “freedom of speech”. Media doesn’t /have/ to tell the truth, because that’s “freedom of speech”. They don’t /have/ to be accurate about anything, because it all about ratings, and “freedom of speech” allows it.
In the last fifty years, there has been a very large and dramatic paradigm shift in what “freedom” really is. That’s to say that the Freedoms that many folks hold as true today, are not the same ones that our forefathers, the very authors of the Constitution, held in their day. Freedom for them meant something. It was something that you fought for with vigor and diligence and guile, because it was an ideal worth fighting for, and indeed worth /dying/ for.
Today, we have politicians and media alike, that have no concept of Freedom, let alone what it stands for. To most of them, it is a shield that they can hide behind when convenient, that lets them do whatever they want, legal or not, because it suits them at the moment. I will always maintain that freedom is something that must be protected. It is /not/ a shield that enables us to do as we please, simply /because/ we are “free”. With Freedom comes awesome responsibility, and very few Americans today truly understand the burdens of that responsibility. It is /why/ the legal system in this country is the laughing stock of the world. It’s /why/ the media can do the totally irresponsible things, and no one bats and eye, and even if they do, it’s “freedom of speech”. Politicians can blatantly lie, or commit crimes that any other citizen would be locked away for a lifetime, but they’re a Senator or Congressman, so they are magically exempt from the laws. Indeed, their Freedoms, it would appear, supercede those of the “mere citizen”.
Our forefathers were brilliant men and impressive statesmen. They penned to paper a document that was truly timeless, because it could be flexible and change with the ebbs and flows of the times. But the one thing they couldn’t take into account, was that people would eventually become lazy, and stupid, and genuinely forget what this grand thing called Freedom was all about.
So, here were are today, a country founded on the very ideal of this magnificent thing called “Freedom”, and yet, only one in twenty Americans at best, even know what this grand thing really /is/. We are a culture of instant gratification, where the elected officials have license to do anything they choose while the “common man” has less rights than his neighbor’s dog. The citizens have less rights than the “illegal aliens”. The media can spew forth whatever they deem as “news”, regardless of whether it’s truth or total fabrication. All in the blessed name of “Freedom”.
Are we /really/ “free”, or is it just the illusion of “freedom”? I guess it’s all about perspective. To be “free”, you have to know, intimately, what being a “slave” is all about. Is “Freedom” a magic shield? Or is it something that requires a diligent guardian? In my view, to truly be “free”, then we submit to being its “slave”. “Freedom” does not exist for our benefit; it exists because those people before us battled and fought and died so that we might have it. Those who are not willing to die to protect it, are not worthy of having it.
Am I unjustly biased? Perhaps. But “Freedom” for me will never be something that I am simply /granted/. “Freedom” is /earned/. Have /I/ earned it? I can’t say. That’s not for me to decide. It really lies in the hands of those that have carried the weight of this flag, this burden of Freedom, on their shoulders before me. If I can look at my life, and my deeds, and can truly be measured and weighed by the standards of those that fought for Freedom before me, and I meet up, then, and /only/ then, I am worthy. If not, then it looks like I’ve got a bit more fighting to do.
“Freedom” isn’t “free”. It has a profound price tag. But I still believe in the most basic of truths: it’s worth the price that has been paid, and it will forever be worth fighting for, even for the stupid masses that don’t know what it’s all about. That’s just part of the price that’s been paid.

Most Sincerely and Respectfully Submitted,
ShastaCat

Hello Again All!

I'm fiiiiinallly back from the trip from hell!

It was a long tour, and it's good to be back on shore with all paws dry again. So, it's time to dust all the salt outta my fur, and then get down to sorting through all the stuffs. Nothing's quite like sorting through two-and-a-half months of mail. :)

Thank you all for your prayers and well-wishes while I was out there. It means a lot to me.

With Sincerity and Warm Regards,
The Neon-Hyper-Spasti-Kitty

Hiya all!

I'm headed off-planet for a bit, so see ya in about two-months!

Everyone take care!

ShastaHyperSpastiKitty

I always try to read the journal entries of those that I'm watching. After all, they too the time to write and post them, so should I be kinda enough to read them? Much of the time, I just do the stealth-read, and then ponder for a moment before going on to the next one. But occasionally, thoughts well withing my little feline brain, and I am compelled to respond. This is one of those.

I have removed the names and dates and places, just in case, but this is the majority of my response. I think the premise will become clear as you read.

While it was my response to one individual, I wanted to pas it on, just in case anyone else out there might find the thoughts and babble helpful. If so, then I am thankful.

Without further ado...

---

As with any form of art, whether it be writing, photography, or even architectural design and building, we are usually our own worst/best critics. As the "creator", we shall always be able to see the things in our works that no one else could see in a hundred years. This is both good, and bad. But for the sake of comment, I disagree with you "this is not normal" comment. I think it's /completely/ normal, especially for those that are very passionate about their work.

The "good" side: You will forever be inspired to do better. You will always be asking yourself "How can this be improved?" or "How can I make this better?" or "What can I do differently next time?" In all of these cases, they are the manifestation for your self-need and motivation to strive for perfection, and continue growing in your abilities. Growth, in every aspect of life, is a good thing, and growth is understanding, and understanding is awareness, and awareness takes us forward in our journeys through life.

The "bad" side: for the pieces/works that you are most passionate about, you will forever be the "hardest" on yourself for not being able to do them /perfectly/. True perfection cannot be achieved. It is the unobtainable goal. But it is, perhaps, the best guide for us in our works, as /it/ is the culmination of all that we might aspire to be. That makes it extremely frustrating, as our works never seem to meet up to those "standards" that we have set for ourself, but yet, those standards can provide us with an infinite amount of motivation to always be increasing our skills. So in many ways, though it is indeed frustrating, the "bad" can be a very "good" thing for us in our growth as artists (whatever your form of art happens to be).

Allow me to offer you my minuscule words of encouragement: the moment that you become "happy" with your works, is the moment that you have ceased growing as an artist, and have become static in form, and complacent in vision.

As always, I wish you continued growth, even with the frustrations at times.

With Sincerity,
Shasta

To all of my listeners, supporters, watchers, and stealth-gazers:

I owe you all a sincere apology for being so scarce and not having kept up with things as of late. In that light, I want to pass on a very brief (is there such a thing from me?) explanation for you all, that might, in fact, answer some questions that many of you have probably been asking, namely “why doesn’t he have any /recent/ pix of the animals?”

As I’ve said, I have worked with big cats in one way or another for now 25-years, 23 of that being hand-on, as in face-to-face, pounce-capable. I have spoken a little of being dragged away last year due to a job-related move. While that’s true, it’s not the entire truth. Here’s the rest. I hope your sitting down, cuz it’s a doosie.

I have, for now 7-years, boarded my animals at the compound that I volunteered at. I even rose to the lofty status of “Head Curator”. Don’t let the title fool you. That’s really just the “head tiger-poop scooper”. In August of last year, I made the request for the director of the compound to put my boarding agreement into writing; she refused. She and I had always been good with having a verbal agreement, but as can be understood, “verbal agreements” require that both parties have the utmost in integrity, and I found that I was faced with ever increasing occurrences of her “word” simply changing as it suited her. Therefore, the boarding agreement, dramatically altered (as in a 100% increase in my boarding fees). I disputed the change, and so, I have been, since August, forbidden to visit my animals, or any of them that I have become close to over all the years at the facility. I literally do not know if my animals - my children - are alive or dead.

So, while I won’t go into all the details, lets just say that attorneys have been involved for months, all to no avail as she simply refuses to negotiate in good faith on any front. So, with no other choice for a remedy, I have finally made the difficult decision, and I filed a lawsuit against her and the organization last week. I cannot allow her to hold my animals (and other property) for ransom any longer. It is bound to be a bitter fight, and in the end, all the animals at the facility will lose, including mine (if they are still alive). There are simply too many improprieties, that have gone on for far too long under her management, and I can no longer, in good conscience, allow it to continue any longer.

So, needless to say, this situation has take the absolute top priority in my life, and the vast majority of my spare time is dedicated in one way or another to the pursuit of retrieving my animals from their hostage situation. This is why I’ve been so scarce, but nonetheless, I do ask for your forgiveness, and continued support.

Please understand that I’m not offering all this explanation in solicitation for sympathy, empathy, pity, or comment. As you all have probably figured out by now, I’m a communicator. I try to offer as much understanding to my viewers and readers about the topic-at-hand as possible; this particular topic is no different. It has been weighing quite heavily on me, as you can probably imagine, and so I hae been quite negligent in my efforts and responses to you all here.

My experience on FA has been a wonderful one, even though I truly don’t “fit in” to the general genre of the site. Nonetheless, I have been made to feel quite welcome, and there has been much interest in my various works and photos, and you all have been a part of that; I am most appreciative.

It is my intention to keep plugging away at life, my burdensome situation, and keep things as up-to-date as possible here. Please be patient with me in my sometimes very belated responses, shouts, and comments.

My warmest and most earnest thanks to you all!

Most Sincerely and Respectfully Submitted,
Shasta

Okay folks. You'll have to forgive me for this one. First off, it's quite a bit longer than I usually post. Secondly, it's a lot more "deep" than I usually post as well.

This is yet another chapter from my dissertation, written back in 1996, for my PhD in Counseling (and the PhD in Motivational Studies). Yes, I know. I'm a geek. I admit it. I have 2.75 doctorates. I'm weird.

Anyway, this is right out of there, so some of it might not make a whole lot of sense, as there's no "background information" to go on. Forgive me for that. I post it here for several reasons:

1) I think there's a lot of good stuff here worth thinking about.

2) I have been negligent (for about three days now) in sending the "Immutable Laws" portion to Sir Kaine, and so need to remedy that. :)

And 3) I think that some of the things here, especially the "Immutable Laws" might be something that everyone that's followed my incessant babbling here on FA might find to be though-provoking.

So without further ado, here it is. I would most certainly appreciate your comments, should you have any.

Most Sincerely and Respectfully Submitted,
NeonHyperSpastiKitty

---

Chapter 21 - “The Journey of Life: Where Are You Today?”

“Life is more than simply existing, or a state of being.
Is it a time to live to the extent of your abilities: your
gifts. To let the exuberance and vitality of life consume
you. And when Death would come to take you, do not
have regret that you will die. Rejoice that you had
chance to live! Regret only that you were not immortal:
that you could not be a reminder of the very essence
of life forever. I strive to be this, and this only.”
- Felis Concolor
a.k.a. The Cougar

People might call it daydreaming. Perhaps they are right. Who’s to say? To me, it is simply taking a moment - or many - to reflect. My curse gives me the means, from time to time, to look back upon the journey of my life. I have a strange map in my head: something I’ve somehow filled in along the way. It shows me where I’ve been. It shows all the “way points”, all the direction changes, all the companions that have traveled with me, for however short or long that particular journey lasted. Life is not a single thing. It is simply journey after journey after journey. It is not even partly a destination. It is motion: movement towards a new beginning. Movement towards yet another journey.
If there is one thing I have learned over the years, it’s that those “companions”, were there, at those moments in your life, when you needed them most. But, isn’t it strange, that at the time, you may not see it that way? And isn’t it odd that the hindsight of the journey’s pathways are always so clearly marked. And it is then we see how our companions have helped us along the way.
Is it fate, that we can only see after it’s too late? Is it fate, that our discovery of need, or want, is after they are gone forever? Is it fate, that in the one moment, or hour, or year, that they may touch our lives, that they will unalterably change it forever? I ponder these things still. I may forever.
I have had but a very few companions: people or beings that I would call “friend”. But in their moments, when they were part of my life, my journey, each one touched me, helped me to reach yet another state of being, “place” of mind, and purpose. Each one, whether in a small or large way, altered the direction of my life forever. I do not know whether to simply accept, to thank, to curse, to mourn, or to simply be in awe. Why did they choose me? Or did fate do that for them? Was it bizarre luck? Happenstance?
Isn’t it strange how things just seem to happen? All the people, all the places, all the events just seem to mystically line up, and suddenly, you’re in the middle of this outrageous thing, that just shouldn’t be happening, but is. Something that you never thought, even in a millennia, could happen outside of your imagination. But here it is. You take a breath. Pinch yourself. Touch a tree, a wall, something, anything that might have substance, so that you can check your place in reality. Is all this real? Or has some strange force of the universe somehow taken the thoughts and images of your mind, and brought them to vivid and screaming, vibrant life? Can you handle all this at once? The mind goes into overload. And then, as suddenly as they all appeared, everything is gone. Done. Swept away into the currents, maybe torrents, of time.
Would you go back, if you could? Would you journey back to those times in your life all over again, even knowing the outcome? Would you live them all over?
Strange questions, aren’t they? A part of you would say, “Yes!”. No restraint. No hesitation. Simply to be there and experience the excitement, the emotions, once again. Yet another part would scream “No!”. A reaction. A warning. Because that time of your life was a mental struggle to survive as well. To live it again would mean you would have to face the same trauma, the same frustration, the same pain, the same anger, and the same anguish, all over again as well. You survived once, but would you a second time? Would you overcome the hurdles again? Would you make it through unscathed, traveling down the same past road yet again?
So this is our quandary: the paradox. Do we simply go on, knowing that we have learned something from these past journeys, or do we dwell on those moments from a long or maybe short time ago, to remember the happiness and joy that we held in our hands for just a moment. That we reached out to, and touched. And that for a fleeting, passing moment, we were secure.
But how about my question? It never was as simple as “yes” or “no”, was it?
The cold reality is, you can’t go back. In fact, you will never live those moments again, even with similar circumstance and similar event. You will never again view the universe with the same awe and wonder and innocence, because you have grown. You have altered. Changed. There is only memory, and you will never feel the same way ever again. But this is not bad. For as I said, life is forever a series of starting and completing journeys. So though we can never live the same journey again, we can live another. The feelings will not be the same. They will be different. New. Unique. And the friends that you have, the companions, may be there for you yet again. Or you will find new ones along the way.
As I have said, I have had some good friends. Friends to last a lifetime. I will never forget them, though many of them are no longer part of my journeys. Alas, many of them exist only in my memories.
To Krystofer Knoxin, I owe my very life. He was my guardian, and my protector. He taught me how to live and survive in a cruel, cold, and hateful world. The street was my classroom. The people on it, my instructors. I learned more than I ever thought possible about life. I owe that to him. But the streets were a mean and hostile place, and he had taken me there. He had gotten me onto the street, and eventually, he made it his goal, to get me off them as well. I like to think he succeeded. But “Once a street kid, always a street kid.”, and I will never forget the lessons and “rules” I learned there.
Krys taught me what I have come to call “The Immutable Laws”. There are three of them. There is a fourth, but it is slightly different. Not so immutable.
One) “You cannot change anyone.” No matter how hard you try, or how much energy you put into someone - or something, for that matter - you cannot change them. They change because they want to change. Or need to change. But regardless, you cannot force it upon them. You can offer your hand. You can offer to show the way. But it is up to them whether they take that offered hand, and whether they follow you.
Two) “You have a finite time in which to touch someone’s life.” You've really only got one chance to touch someone’s life. Only the length of time you’re allowed to use it in, changes. It may be a week, a month, a year, or maybe only a minute, but in that time, you have to let them know they're going to make it, and that they have a reason to keep going and to never give up. And then you've done yer part. That's when you've done all you can. That's the time to say goodbye, and move on.
Three) “The time you have will have already expired, by the time you realize it.” This is the frustrating side of Law Two. There are moments as you become part of someone else’s journey, that you can see some real progress. If you care about that person, you tend to put that much more energy into them. And you keep putting energy into them. One day, you discover that you’re beating your head against a wall, and you stop and wonder why. Why, if you were making so much progress once upon a time, are you not now? Law Three. Your time has expired. You are done, whether you want to be or not.
And the fourth? It is the “Law of Futility”. There will come a time, where you simply have to accept, that you have done everything within your means and power to alter some piece of reality that surrounds you, and that it is time to just give up, and find a new focus for your energy. But don’t take the words “give up” as a “roll over and die”. That would be the same as “defeat”. The “give up” here is a “call it good”, a “this is the end of the line”, a “we’ve done the best we could, and it’s time to move on”. It’s an important law, but I cannot truly call it immutable. Not like the first three. Its limits are set by you. By your motivation, patience, ethics, and tolerances.
So Krys gave me those, and they are lessons - laws - that have carried me forward in my life.
To, Kevin Ashley, I owe my creativity and youthful perspective. And perhaps my open-mindedness. Life in general just seemed to overwhelm him, but he never stopped staring at it through his huge, saucer eyes. He never quit trying to take everything in and digest it, understand it, whether it was possible or not. He saw things through the prowess of youth and innocence of a child: an eternal fourteen-year-old. He was refreshing to me, because he could always see things differently than me. I was a cynic. I saw the bad. And it wasn’t that he couldn’t see that side of things, he just chose to see the good as well. He taught me that.
But I guess it was two-way. Kevin and I were really close, like big brother, little brother. He always seemed to think he had something to learn, which I guess he did, and for some reason I will never know or fathom, he chose me to be the one to teach it all to him.
To Thom Warner, who’s “pathways of life” have traveled both together, and apart from mine, for the entirety of our lives. We have been from best friends to worst enemies, from drinking buddies to partners in crime. We have lived through a lot together, traveled the world in our respective services, him Coast Guard, myself Navy, and through it all, have remained just and only friends. Good friends. Lifelong Friends. To him I owe perseverance and trust. For through our many differences, we never lost the trust we had in one another. Trust is everything.
And where are all these friends today?
Krys, as I have told, is dead. But his memories remain. They guide me, and his laws have made him immortal. For every time I teach and counsel, I do my best to teach those laws.
You were right Krys. Life is worth it! All of it! The good and the bad. The ups and downs. I will forever miss you. “Your friend for all time.”
Kevin’s mom and dad separated. It was good. It would keep them from killing each other one day. Kevin went with his mom to Southern California, and we have lost touch over the years. I wish I knew where he was today. It would be nice to see if he still has his view of the universe, or whether I corrupted him, and turned him into a cynic like myself.
Kevin, if I have, forgive me. I beg you. It is a big and overwhelming world out there, and I didn’t mean to teach you all the wrong things. There is good out there. And I don’t have to even look to find it anymore. I’m rooting for you, whatever you’re doing, wherever you are.
Thom too, is still around, and we’ve kept in touch. It has been hard, and admittedly we’ve gone through long moments of silence, and disappearances. But our friendship has withstood the weathers of time. It has tested true.
Thom, what can I say? “Thanks!” It seems like we’ve been though almost everything together. Maybe we have. A lifetime? Several of them? No regrets. I am glad to have you as my friend. I’m privileged.
And Shasta? Do I lump him in with all my “human” companions? You bet! But it was different somehow. As Krys said, so long ago, “He was inside.” That was all too true. Yes, it was friendship, but it was somehow different than that too.
How many people in your life, are you so comfortable with, that you would willingly let them peer into your very soul? Many? Any? And that isn’t meant as a slight against the human friends that I have shared and lived so much with. It is just different. I think, to understand that, you would simply have to have been a pet to some animal in your life. Whether it was a dog, or cat, or whatever, doesn’t really matter. It is a trust. But yet indescribably more than that. It is the knowledge that you have, that goes beyond logic, fact, and reason, and is more, a great faith that your “master” will protect you, with his life if necessary, for no other reason than because he chooses to, wants to, and does so because he loves you. That, in my feeble attempt with words, is why Shasta was inside.
People ask me what my fondest memory of Shasta is. I don’t have just one. I have come to cherish every memory I have, whether good or bad, frustrating or joyous, because they are all I have of that time. I have no pictures - I never needed them when I had a two-hundred-pound cat right next to me. And I had my vivid memories, that still play like video tapes in my head. But I can’t share those with people. I could a picture. I don’t even have the papers that I got that night in the envelope marked with my name. They were lost in the bureaucracies, right along with Shasta. The rope and the collar went with him, also now gone forever.
But wrestling with the hissing, growling cat, are my most vivid memories. Each was an adventure of its own, a struggle to survive, to gain the upper hand, to lose it, to try and gain it back. I never won him, as hard as I tried. But that didn’t matter. It simply brought reality into vivid perspective: that mankind is so small and insignificant, when compared to the absolute power and beauty and grace of nature. Shasta was my small slice of those things: of nature. Of life. Indeed, of the universe!
Even with Keith’s help, and John’s, and that judge’s, I never found Shasta. I like to think that he was placed in a facility somewhere, where he could at least run free, was well taken care of, and had a handler that maybe, at least cared about him. Most likely, he ended up at some zoo, forever trapped in the small confines of a cage, slowly dying simply for lack of room to run and romp and pounce and play. But I force myself to believe otherwise. Indeed, maybe delude myself. I can forever hope. Wish.
“It would’ve almost been better if he’d died,” Josh had said once. He was right. I didn’t know where Shasta was. He wasn’t alive, or dead, just somewhere in between. Lost. In limbo.
I kept in touch with John and Josh for a time. Like Josh had said when I first met him, having Kenti there was a comfort. I learned what he meant. I wrestled with Kenti many times after they took Shasta from me, but it wasn’t the same. While I never questioned Shasta’s strength and abilities, they and his size were more in proportion to my own. Kenti was just too big. With a single paw into my chest, he could take my breath away, or hold me immobile indefinitely. It was never much challenge for him, no matter how much of a fight I put up.
“Was it all worth it, Mick?” Josh had asked one day, as Kenti was crushing me into the grass after a rather one-sided wrestle match.
I thought about it. I thought hard.
I stared up into the amber eyes of the huge tiger. He looked down at me, in charge, in control, my life in his “hands”: nature’s. The way it always had been. Even with Shasta.
“Yeah,” I said. “It was. All of it.”
“Good,” he’d said, a little bit of a smile forming on his face. “Then there’s no regrets, and you can start getting over it.”
I have to wonder now if he chose those words specifically, or whether fate had acted once again. They were profound words. Words of futility. Words that said it was time to move on, to get on with my life. And that I could.
I didn’t see Josh much after that. But that was okay. He had helped me through the pain of that loss, and who better, than someone who had experienced himself, the same kind of loss.
It would be years before I would simply “accept”, but I was stable again. I had come to another junction in my life, a crossroads, where it was time to make another choice. Choose one new road or another. And I had chosen, and begun to travel. To simply move once again.
That didn’t mean the pain would go away. Even now, I still feel it. But it’s different now. I can truly say “No regrets”. I have even come to the point where I can take those many adventures, that period of my life from 20-Nov-84 to 22-Mar-86 - a year, four months, and two days - and write them down so they can be shared with the rest of humanity. Maybe this isn’t exactly what Josh was meaning when he said we needed to get fifty new people to wrestle with a big cat every day. But this is a start. It’s movement in the right direction. Or so I hope.
So my dear reader, if, while you were reading these pages, I got even one laugh as Shasta tackled Kevin in the hall, or a chill of excitement as I wrestled with Shasta in the park, a twinge of “oddness” as I did what I did to Shasta for the breeding program, or even a single tear as I fastened the collar around his neck or as he hugged me before he walked out of my life for eternity, then I have succeeded in my frail attempt to paint a picture for you: a mosaic of this memorable time of my life. And I am greatful that you chose to join me for this grand adventure. That you would choose to share in it with me. To feel it for yourself.
But what about the “battle”, you ask? Did it end there? No. The battle rages fourth even to this day, as it will for a long time to come. People still fight for the cougars. And the tigers. And the leopards and the many other species of animals that are endangered. And not just felines: all the predators that humanity seems so hell-bent on exterminating.
On many fields, the battle still rages on. There are the private battles of humanity against the predators of this world, where a farmer chooses to hunt and kill a wolf or cougar, not because the animal has harmed his livestock, but because it could. Prejudices permeate even our nursery rhymes - “Little Red Riding Hood” for example. This is the very substance that has taken the greatest direct toll on these creatures’ existence.
Will we win the battle? I don’t know. The breeding programs are still in place and doing their monumental tasks. Science is providing sufficient ammunition to keep the battle at a sometimes volatile stalemate. But the reality is that most likely, we will not. There are new problems that surface every day. And those new problems require new solutions, which are not always easy.
People move from the cities, to homes in “the country”, only to discover an “obnoxious” predator within their paradise. People don’t stop to think that the predator is not the cat or wolf or fox or coyote, and the paradise that has been invaded was never theirs! Nor is it now. The beasts were there first, and they have no where else to go. If we continue to take away their paradise, take their land, the battle will eventually be lost, regardless of what we do.
So what, if we keep them alive in zoos and reserves rather than having them simply vanish from existence? If we remove from them, all that gives them exuberance, vitality, and the very essence of life, we have killed them anyway. They will only suffer on, in a demented semblance of what we humans might choose to call “life”. All that will remain, will be hollow shells of the creatures that some of us once had the privilege - the adventure - of knowing. What loss! What a great and tragic loss! But it is not their loss. It is ours! Humanity’s!
I cannot begin to describe the feelings I had, to even just touch Shasta’s shoulder, and feel the ever-tense muscles underneath his thickly-furred hide. It was awesome! Simply awesome! And then there was Kenti. Every time he took me off my feet in something close to an all-out take-down-and-tackle, my only thought was that I didn’t stand even a semblance of a change against him. At more than four times my weight, it was usually over in a very short time. But what the hell... So what if he kicked my ass! It was still absolutely awesome! I was wrestling a full-grown, Bengal Tiger! Holy shit!
But those times are only memories now. I wish so much, I could give those feelings and emotions and thoughts to everyone I meet. I guess that too, is my frail attempt with these words and pages.
I fight on a different battlefield today. I no longer have Shasta, so I can’t participate directly in any kind of program like I once did. But I do have money. And I donate as much as I can every year, to breeding and conservation programs. When I am able, I volunteer time as well. I belong to zoological organizations and am a member of many “societies”. This is the roll I play now. This is my part of the battle. This is the place where I can still be a part, and maybe make a small difference. I can still try, even from a distance.
The battle is not won. But likewise, it is not lost. As long as there is hope, and the will, these creatures of our world might still survive.
Keep the hope with me. Stand and fight by my side. For once the Shasta’s and Kenti’s and Sarista’s of this world have perished, they will be gone forever. There will be no bringing them back. And the war will finally be over. And it will be lost. Forever. And all we will have left, will be a world devoid of life. Even we will be dead. We will simply exist. Our choice has always been simple, even if we didn’t realize it before. We can save them, or lie down and die with them.
Oh...I lied. Not everything will be gone. We’ll still have pictures. At least we’ll have those. But some of us will have memories. And mine will haunt me. Because even with all I did, I didn’t do enough, while I still had the chance.
How about you? Which will you have?

Excerpt from “Shasta’s Time” - Dissertation for Doctor of Philosophy in Counseling, 1996

Outdoor Life
Shasta enjoyed his outdoor time considerably. He loved the park, which was conveniently right across the street from our house. We wrestled countless times there. But the park had its own sort of confinement. Because it was a public place - with a school on two sides no less - I was always a little leery of people getting too close to Shasta. It’s not that I was worried about him being hostile to people. More the opposite: him being too friendly. It was one thing for him to mug and tackle someone in our house. It was quite another for him to do it in the park, to someone we didn’t know. Can we say “law suit”!
But the funnest outdoor times we had, were out in the foothills east of Bakersfield, in the area right next to Mesa Marin Raceway.
Now this land could be considered “Scrub Land” by strict definition, short of the small trees and scrub brush that would normally be in this sort of land. But there were an endless maze of valleys and hills for us to play in and explore. Shasta loved every moment we spent here, which was no surprise. This type of land - had it been an unpopulated wilderness, and not so close to a city - could actually have been home turf for him, if he were in the wild.
Shasta and I would spend many hours here, not usually wrestling, as Shasta didn’t like the endless burrs and stickers any more than I did. Roaming was good enough for both of us.
For you wildlife enthusiasts out there, let me tell you, there’s nothing more beautiful that watching a cougar go galloping across a ridge right before you. It was simply awesome! Once again, I can’t begin to express how disappointed I am to not have taken any pictures.
Sometimes, I would take off running down a hill or across the valley or plateau, and Shasta would pause for a moment before loping after me. Sometimes (most of the time) he would sprint up and tackle me, and at others, he would sprint to catch up, and then bound along next to me. He was many times faster than me, even at my fastest pace, and I certainly couldn’t match his limitless energy.
At other times, Shasta would be loping back and forth around me, bounding from one tumbleweed to the next, as we walked along. Sometimes he would hide behind them - the Bakersfield Foothills variety of tumbleweeds could reach sometimes five feet across - and I would lose sight of him for just a moment. Then, as I approached, he would jump out from behind it, trying his best to startle me. Sometimes he actually did, but most of the time, I just faked it, just to make the game that much more fun for him. Who knows? Maybe I never fooled him at all, but he still seemed to enjoy our games.
But somewhere during our tumbleweed adventures, he would start prancing around me, asking silently for release from his invisible tether that had mysteriously bound him to me from almost the moment we’d met.
“Go,” I’d say.
“Mrow?” he’d ask. “Okay?”
“Go on!”
So off he’d go, bounding across the plain, or up the valley, away from me. But even though he was “released”, he would never stray out of sight from me. And it was his doing, rather than mine. God knows, it would be impossible for me to keep up with him for very long. He’d reach the top of a foothill, and scan the area for me. If he saw me, he’d turn back to his private adventure, until another few minutes had passed, and he’d do his search again.
Occasionally, I’d be out of sight when Shasta did his check. Now I’d have to say, panic is not a natural things for animals of the wild. But it was during these foothill adventures that I truly realized that Shasta and I had a very special bond. Some people might choose to call it friendship. Others, perhaps those who have an animal - dog or cat maybe - at home, might understand when I say it was something much more than that. After all, who was really the “pet”? I knew exactly. I never even imagined questioning the fact.
Sometimes, not often, I would do some hiding behind tumbleweeds myself. I stopped after a while, just because of Shasta’s reaction. Even from a hundred yards away, I could hear Shasta’s call.
“Mrow!”
It would be strong and clear at first. But it changed rapidly.
“Row-wow!”
A twinge of panic would be on the edge of his shouts. Then it was fear.
“Row!”
Shasta would be bounding back and forth, calling out every second or so. Then I’d step out from behind the tumbleweed, and he’d lock sights onto me. He’d let out another quick shout, and sprint towards me. Burrs and stickers or not, he’d hit me running, and we’d be into another wrestle match. At first, I thought it was all kind of fun. Then I came to realize a few things.
It would be obvious to say Shasta was well-muscled. That simply went with his species. Along with that, were the other autonomic functions: heartbeat and breathing. Normally, Shasta could wrestle me time and time again, wearing me to an absolute frazzle, and he’d barely be breathing hard. His loss-of-sight wrestle times were different.
By the time he reached me, he would do his flying tackle thing, and the actual wrestling match would be amazingly short-lived. He would just attack with a fervor, pinning my quickly, rather than drawing it out like he normally did. Then he would plop down on top of me, preventing my from getting up.
It was during one of these events that I noticed some things. He was breathing hard, which as I thought about it, was the first time I could remember. With that, his heart was absolutely pounding. And it wasn’t the tired-and-out-of-breath sort of pounding, like you have after running ten miles. It was more like and adrenalin sort of pounding - fear, anxiety. My realization of these things led to others.
There were different voice inflections that he’d called me with. As I thought about them, I came to understand them for what they were - like his pounding heartbeat: fear and anxiety.
So Shasta would tackle me with a fervor. And then I understood why. Punishment for the cruel joke. Payback for my childish misunderstanding of the mysterious bond that had held us willfully captive from the time Shasta and I had met.
I never hid from him again. I went out of my way to keep him in sight. If I could see him, then I knew he could see me. Sure, we still lost sight of each other occasionally. But with both of us working together, we’d reestablish eye-contact long before Shasta panicked. Then he could enjoy his bounding and sprinting. And I could simply watch him, marveling at the beauty of his motions, the grace of his actions, and the wonder, and pleasure, that the boundaries of friendship did not include differing species.
What wonderful times those were, where Shasta and I could both “commune with nature” in our separate, but interlinked, ways!