THE LOST DOGS OF LANGSTON.

Entry 25.

Okay now I have some heartbreaking decisions to make or maybe just some normal decisions or some neutral decisions or all three, depending.

So yesterday after I put Annie Belle in the dog barn, into which she is very happy to

go after just being spayed, and then I feed her and give her some dog treats, and then I go back in the house for a bit and come out a few hours later to check on her.

Something is up. I hear a dog in some sort of scuffle, high-pitched distressed barking, maybe it's two dogs, I don't know and I don't know where they are except behind the very back of my yard where the berm was built to keep the floods out many years ago (is all I can figure out about it, or maybe they just like building berms for fun). So then I see Roscoe and Little Chocolate Crosseyed Roscoe running in the direction of the barking. I hear Roscoe making pronouncements very gruffly and then all the barking stops. A little later on, Roscoe Junior (or Little Chocolate Crosseyed Roscoe) (and yes he does look a little crosseyed and might be somewhat inbred, I have no way of knowing at this time) wanders out of the woods back there and just kind of moseys back into the back part of my yard, snuffling around doing his normal thing. He appears undisturbed. Roscoe Senior does not yet show.

There are also two cardinals, a mother and a father bird, at the fence and on one of the octopus brush piles (I think I talked about those earlier. Ongoing art projects made of sticks piled up in the shapes of two large octopuses because that's how it happened and I had help with this also so it's almost a community project but it's not exactly finished so we'll see what happens with it. Working big is exhausting, as I found out). They flit back and forth a little but do not appear to be distressed.

When the community is distressed, you know. I was thankful at the moment that there did not seem to be any more trouble.

I just thought it was kinda weird. Like Roscoe and Roscoe Junior are sort of the police outfit of the wild neighborhood. Who knows? Maybe they are. They sure looked official and officious, huffing it back there like they did. They looked like they were on a mission.

But now I have to make the decision about Annie Belle. She has heartworms and I don't know what to do about that. Luckily I found out after making one phone call (sometimes that's all it takes) that there's an alternative to the two-month prednisone treatment. Or there seems to be. Or there is, whichever. Well I have options and I could take her in for that but then, here comes the BIG decision: what to do with her afterwards? Should I just let her live in the dog barn and come and go as she pleases? It would mean leaving a fence gate unlocked which I don't want to do because I like creating suspicion. I love that people think I'm severely paranoid and weird and locked up in a tower so they can create whatever pretty lies about me that they wish. Oscar Wilde says it's better to be talked about than ignored, so I guess I like to create mystery in people's minds, it's entertainment for them of a sort, after all. I don't want to mess with people but they do like a sense of mystery about the weirdo lady who lives with all the dogs and cats. They love the crazies down South; they don't hide them away, they bring them out on the porch and give them cocktails.

Well I don't drink cocktails on my porch much lately unless they are pretend cocktails because I had gastritis in 2017 and I kinda have to be careful. Actually I think it was accomplished by eating too much chewable Vitamin C. So you should kinda be careful of that stuff as well. Don't eat it like candy, I don't care how young you think it will make you look. You'll tear up your stomach and have to get an endoscopy and eat Steve's Strawberries out of a bag in your purse all the time. And if you don't have a purse you will be up shit creek because there will be nowhere to carry your Steve's Strawberries in. Unless you get a treat bag for yourself and then wild dogs will come up to you asking for major help with their life decisions all the time, assuming you have treats for them in the bag.

There is more truth to this than you may realize at this time, I promise you that.

I just don't know the whole picture yet though. They say Anatolian Shepherds have a wandering capacity/area of 200 square miles that they like to cover. My tiny farm is nowhere near as big as that. Maybe Annie Belle is smart and wants to go back and run with her pack. I'm sure she misses them. They sure do keep hovering around here like the dog police, snuffling about for her. (They sure do get fed that way, too). But if she goes wand'ring off to the wilds of Langston, Alabama, then how do I know she will show up back here in three months for her Bravecto tablet? And how do I know she will show up back here again three months after that for her ProHeart shot? Or whatever shot it is these other people do that they don't use the prednisone beforehand? How will I know, Whitney? How?

Maybe someone will adopt her. That will be a hard one. She's a big dog and prone to wandering and will need a HUUUUUUUUUUGE (yeah I'm takin' it back I'm takin' a lotta things back but to tell you the truth they were never gone in the first place and they never will be unless somebody bothers to get a copyright on that which I bet they are either too lazy or too stupid to do) (and don't you worry, yes my personal portion of pointy-chin futuristic snippy mentality has already taken copyrights out on a lotta stuff so you better be careful with me, I don't hide behind all these big fences fer nothin' honey and you never know what somebody might be capable of or how many lawyers are their best friends or how much money those lawyers might owe that person) (I say that with all due respect because I don't mess with other people either and I expect the same from all of you) (I hope that covers it) (sign here please) (yes now we understand that we have boundaries and that boundaries are healthy, it's actually true) (Benjamin Franklin said it best when he said Love your neighbor, but don't take down your fence just yet, or whatever it was he said) yard space and a really good fence and someone to watch her and really care for her because she's a really sweet dog.

But then they probably won't have tranquilizer guns to catch the rest of her pack with and haul their asses into the vet's to get neutered. So there's that and it's kind of heartbreaking to take a dog away from its pack, even if it's going to a good home it's still a little bit heartbreaking to do that and I did it once before which is why Roscoe set out to prove to me that he's got a harem all over this town and he just brought evidence of it lately which is why I am dealing with Annie Belle in the first place. It's like me and Roscoe are playing chess, or checkers, and there is always somebody gotta move or strategize or set forth on a plan and I just get so tired of things always being that way. Does life always have to be a constant game of Battleship? I was never very good at that game and it kind of bored me. So that tells you somethin', right there.

Enough of this Jackson County Smack. I got dog problems to solve. Sitting still and meditating or ruminating on a couple of pieces of Trident gum while washing dog blankies (or maybe even my own clothes this time) or crossing paths with a pig might help. Meeting up with pigs in weird instances can be a life-changer, I've recently heard and that is on more than one account. I just hope it doesn't hurt.

Meanwhile, Angelo wants food. He reclines to eat, much like Jesus does in the pictures. Maybe I'll ask Angelo what to do about all this. He will probably know. I hesitate to ask Jesus, as he is really confusing to me lately...all his striving against the corrupt powers that were, and then he turns around and talks about his own sheep...always a hierarchy there, always something with leaders and followers...who plays which part? And how do we ever come to trust our own intuition with all this talk of sheep and leaders and followers and hierarchies and stuff like that? I just truly wonder sometimes.

All of that is really quite unpleasant and confusing and hard to sort out and it is probably somewhat more difficult than ever having to deal with a pig.