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It’s Actually Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

December 19, 2017

Hello my lovelies.  It’s me, back already.  Please don’t pass out from shock.  Your dean of fuckery, doctor of doctoring, honorary DVM, pretend Judge, Fixer of all briefs that need to be re-written, dog lactation consultant, horse therapist, resident sarcasm expert and Queen of all I survey.  The pageant for “Queen of the universe is coming up so please cast your votes early.  Even if you have to ride a horse that really isn’t feeling it to do so.

Spoiler alert this video has nothing to do with anything I just thought it was funny so I used it.

I have heard from Mama who is well, just dealing with some of her own stuff.  Nothing bad I promise, she’s just busy.

So since it is already the 19th of what is usually my most despised month of the year coming up to what is usually my most despised day of the year, I decided I would just nip that shit in the bud and let you all know that I am actually looking forward to Christmas.  If anyone has smelling salts please pass them to renae, mama and basset because I know they have all just collectively fainted.

I have been doing this blog for a long time.  We have covered a lot of things, survived a lot of things and thrived from a lot of things.  We have had each others backs, we have gone to war for anyone of us that needed a war party on the quick and we love each other.  To me, that means more than anything.  I want each of you to know that while my road is still so, so fucking long, you have helped me travel a distance and you’ve walked beside me just in case I stumbled so you’d be there to grab me and I am aware and I am so grateful to you all.

I am in a good headspace this year.  Not great but not he horrific depressions I have been falling into as of late. Depression is really the gift that keeps on giving.  It gives heartache to the people that love you and have no idea how to help you, it gives actual physical pain, it gives to the point where you just want to say fuck it what is the point.  I’ve been there, I’ve done that and what keeps me going just in case you didn’t know is the fact that I am not alone, that you all understand and that eventually I know, even if it just way down the  pit of the blackness that it will get better.  I know things are getting better because I have discovered a few things that set off the depression and have figured out how to shut them right the fuck down before they even get started.  Sometimes, I’m not so lucky.  I am sorry to you all I have been so absent this year, it has been one for the books.

This year my son turns 17.  Two days before Christmas my baby turns 17.  He has his license test scheduled for the 2nd of January and nobody on earth is looking more forward to that day than me.  See, I hate driving.  It is part of the agoraphobia, but it is also to do with an accident my drunk mother had with me in the car.  I have never been a huge fan, and the older I get the more I hate it.  the day I get to say, can you please go to the store and pick up some bread will be an awesome day.  First because I don’t have to go and second because I can afford bread.  Remember when I didn’t know where the fuck our next meal was coming from?  Seems like yesterday.  you guys saved me then too, and I will not ever forget what you did for a mother in the throws of the worst portion of her life and her son to make sure that we did not freeze to death or starve.  I am still humbled by it.

Once my pension came through and I figured out how to budget the pittance they gave me we were able to make a terrible situation tolerable.  Tolerable is much better than can you please donate money so we don’t freeze to death.

The no kill shelter has come a long way.  Members that were at least as messed up as me have blossomed which makes me so damn happy, and even myself who was, I thought, completely and irreparably broken have made some progress.  I can now stand to be downstairs instead of locked behind the front door lock, the lock to the upstairs room and the lock on my office door.  So I have eliminated 2 locks.  Of course it helped immensely when my imaginary psychiatrist informed me that having several imaginary large and very vicious dogs would probably help in the event that someone was to break in .  They are by the way only vicious if they feel that I am being threatened.  Oher than that they are watchful but harmless.  My imaginary dog Hutchinson especially takes his job as a sacred duty and he would without hesitation take a bullet for me, which is good cuz I worry about bullets. A lot. Still.

Imaginary starsky is as loyal as Hutchy bear but her loyalty is to the boy first and I would not have it any other way.  Out of all the imaginary dogs, it is surprisingly Panzer that one needs to be the most concerned with because that bitch don’t play.  You fuck with her family and you are going to be as dead as she can possibly make you.

The day my imaginary Psychiatrist hooked me up with horse therapy was probably one of the most fortuitous days I have had in a very, very long time.  It took me days to finally get up the courage to go to the farm, even though my doc assured me that the farmer had been fully briefed that I could not be in large crowds, could not feel like I was in anyway trapped and that I was very experienced with horses and if he told me what he wanted and left me alone he’d probably be a very happy guy.  He is one of he kindest and most understanding imaginary people I have ever met.  I know he wasn’t sure of me at first because I was terrified to be around him.  Seems however, the second he saw I was not terrified of the animals I was handling he was fine.  I have become the keeper of his prize stallion who is according to the barn staff only really happy when I am there, I have brought some animals I thought were beyond help back from whatever hell they were reliving over and over in their minds, I have birthed a foal, and I have had the sheer joy of being back around horses.  Something I truly love and that gives me tremendous amounts of pleasure.    sometimes the farm owner finds me quite vexing and he yells at me.  Mostly because he is old and very set in his ways and I am much younger and up on he latest techniques in equine care.  Like when I name them.  they come in with numbers.  Nobody should be horse 2425 or whatever.  So they all have names.  Unfortunately, I refer to them by their names and nobody has a fucking clue of what I speak.   First he got mad and told me to stop doing it, and then Charlie happened.  He has softened on the whole name thing since then and he has even taken the time out of a crazy schedule to learn a lot of them.  That is huge.  Instead of saying bring in 1497 he says bring in Molly.  The first time he did it I almost wept. Everyone deserves a name.

I still cannot go out in public, even with my son I am as apt to have a panic attack as not although I will say that my son has learned to deal with them with surgical precision.  Get me out of the area that is causing me distress, find somewhere quiet and talk me down which he manages to do about 80 percent of the time.  I still cannot do things like attempt public transportation or take a taxi because I do not know the driver or go to the bank or anything like that, but look how far I have come.  There are still so many things I cannot do, but I am so proud at the huge amounts of progress I have made.  thanks in huge part to you guys with all of your encouragement.

Bug found a bunch of imaginary kittens that someone dumped out on the road as is the circle of life around here and I of course would not have them starved or run over or eaten by the explosion of  imaginary coyotes we’ve had so they sort of live with us.  They come in at night and get something to eat and then go out during the day although when I look through the window they never go far.

He came home from school a week ago to discover that I had strung lights, put out the decorations that we have, put a jiggly collar on our imaginary dog Rocket and had eggnog waiting for him and he lost his shit.  The smile is one I will not forget ever.  I got the biggest hug and a thank you mom and I know how hard you are trying which is quite simply everything.

I got the by drivers ed, which took a huge amount of  scrimping to save up for it.  Fuck me sideways  that shit is expensive, but I will apparently save it in insurance since he will be on as an occasional driver.  It will make it so my insurance does not go so high I can’t afford it.  It was worth the sacrifice.

I have decided that because of his age it is time to start getting him ready for when he flies the nest, so his Christmas and birthday have been about things he will use for the next several years.  A futon, a new bed, a really good set of headphones, a coffee maker, a down duvet, bedding, a few clothes and of course a few fun things, a PlayStation pass card for the year, Assasins creed origins, some cd’s, a bunch of movies he’s been wanting and something I think is special, the outsiders and rumble fish, both the books and the movies.  There are lessons there and he is nothing if not a deep thinker.

I have been making cookies, and my plan is cheesecake and some butter tarts as well as Grandma’s shortbread to put out for Christmas day.

It has been an amazing yeas of ups and downs, but mostly ups.   Except for Trump.  Big, big down.

My offer stands of a safe nuclear free zone.  Bring your imaginary horses, imaginary dogs, imaginary alpaca’s if that is your thing.  Like I said, make spouses will have to take a test to gain entry.

So there you have it.  My year in a nutshell.  I am trying to find things that actually interest me to write about so I will be back more frequently.

Thank you all again for sticking with this really big mean dog and for helping me through some amazingly tough times.  I am doing my best to pay it forward as I am able.

Each and every one of you are part of my life and my heart and I love you all as much as you love me.

Peace and love to each and every one of you

RBMD peacing the fuck out.

 

 

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The State Of The Shelter Address.

December 24, 2016

Hello everyone. It is me, your dean of fuckery, Dr. of Doctoring, dog lactation expert, honorary DVM, newborn puppy resuscitation expert, horse whisperer (we will get to that) and Queen of all I survey.

I thought since it has been a while I would break my own rule and let you all know what has been going on with me in the great not so white north.

This has been a particularly bad year for me pain wise but it has also been the year of behold all the fucks I have to give. I decided that I am no longer being ruled by how much pain I am physically in. Just no longer going to happen. I decided that if I let physical pain dictate whether or not I am going to be able to do things, I might as well just as well ask to be put out of my misery now. Actually, funny story, I did but not for the physical pain reasons and my doctors all said they were conscientious objectors to assisted dying. Does anyone besides me find that strange.

Mentally, I think I am getting better. At least the blackness no longer lasts as long and I have been able to go out where there are people a bit more. I’ve had panic attacks a half dozen times. I had a very, very bad couple of days last week but again, behold all the fucks I have to give because eventually they went away and I came back out the other side.

I have started horse therapy. I used to be quite the equestrian. A million or so years ago. My invisible psychiatrist thought it was a wonderful idea and supports me whole heartedly. Mostly I am mucking stalls and washing horses. Since my Orthopod said riding ever again in this lifetime or any other was not going to be possible I was content with just being around them. Until I wasn’t. I just got it into my head one day that doctors can be wrong and next thing I knew I was cantering a big old mare named star around the arena. I felt like Leonardo Dicaprio on the front of the titanic yelling about being the king of the world. I rode for about 20 minutes or so and was on cloud nine for days. The owners have been very kind and allow me at the barn whenever I want. They don’t care if I want to roll up there at midnight if that is when I need to hang with the horses for a while. They have caught me with my head buried in a horses neck bawling my face off because I needed to do that and have been so kind about it all. Such nice people. Of course, I guess they get something out of it too. The horses help me, and I help the horses which helps them. Mrs. horse farm owner has offered to talk if I ever need to, yet understood that maybe me crying on a horse was better for me than all the talking in the world. They have even offered me a yearling and said they would allow me to make affordable payments on it if I wanted. I do, but I could never afford it and why do I need my own horse when I have a whole barn full of them at my disposal. I have stayed away from horses because I thought it would hurt me to much to be around them. I was so very wrong. Wrong on a magnificent scale.

My invisible Caucasian Shepherd is going to be the biggest dog I have ever had by far. He is now 14 weeks old and is as big as Starsky. I think he may have been exposed to radiation or something. I would not even be remotely surprised if he sprouted wings. I will repost the invisible picture in case you missed it.

My son turned 16 yesterday. He has already picked out the college he will be attending, continues to work hard at school and he makes me proud every day.

I have developed some very serious tendonitis in my elbows, or maybe they are finally just disintegrating. Whichever. I’ll find out in January. My invisible orthopod keeps bugging about replacing the knees, but I’ve been there and done that and have an awesome video so I’m good. I’ll put up with the pain like I said until I no longer can. I realize I sound flippant and I probably shouldn’t because that day is coming fast, but there are so many people in the world that are in such worse shape than me, who the fuck am I to complain. And more importantly, who wants to listen to me bitch. I even get sick of myself.

Dahlia Dipshit got a mistrial and so there is another trial coming up for her and since my new years resolution is to stop feeling sorry for myself and get on with it, I will be writing again.

This would normally be where I would probably apologize for my extended AWOLS but I can’t control depression or how long it lasts. That being said, I seem to be in a pretty good place mentally as far as the depression goes right now. So please do expect your resident sarcasm expert back in form in the new year.

I am hoping I get what I want for Christmas and the zombie apocalypse starts tomorrow or anytime before your president elect takes the oath of office. I actually hope Obama is the first one to get it and he bites Drumpf. Since the four horsemen of the apocalypse have already appeared and seem to have taken up residence at the white house, or are at least poised to, maybe my wish will come true. Just think what it would do for our overpopulation problem as well. If that actually happens I have a really good plan so just come here and we can all fight zombies together. It will be sick.

I miss all of you in case you were wondering. I hope each of you are thriving, or at least hanging in and counting on the fact that eventually it does get better. Something I would not have believed myself a year ago. But, it does.
Twister, thank you, you know why.

I’d like roll call please. We haven’t had one in a while so I want the whole shelter to sound off.

I love you all and I would not have made the progress I have without you. Take that to the bank.

I hope all of your Christmas’s or Hanukahs or whatever are exactly what you want them to be.

Expect me back soon.

From My Countrymen and I

Much love
RBMD peacing the fuck out.


Just a Sunday Blog

December 14, 2014

Hai everybody, tis me, your law professor/dean of fuckery/queen of mean and hopefully if things pan out supreme ruler of the universe at some point LOL. It has been a very quiet day in RBMD land. Quiet but nice. I hung out with my dogs and I refrained from doing the housework that I so badly want to do because I am trying to follow the orders of my cardiologist as much as I can. I know I slip every now and then, but I really am trying. I find I spend a lot of time just staring at my Christmas tree, because it fills me full of peace and I have no idea why. I didn’t think I would recognize peace if it bit me right on the ass, but I do and I like it.

The dogs are all well. They have been having an earmite problem, and the vet will not prescribe without seeing them and of course that is not an option at the moment so I did a ton of research and found a product called otoguard. I didn’t need a prescription for it and after only two applications there is not an itchy ear in the whole dog family. I even treated the cat and taco because those little fuckers seem to like all animals. Mya the French Mastiff had them the worst and her relief is absolute. Poor baby. They have gone from red and inflamed and driving her mad itchy to completely fine with just two applications. The prescription stuff that I was going to get would have been 75$ per two dogs and the stuff I got that has the exact same stuff just slightly lower pyrethrine percentage was $20 with enough to treat all the dogs for a month. And yes I did do an ear scraping and check under my microscope to make sure it was mites before I applied it. I was once upon a time a science geek so I have my own little lab set up here.

I did go out and get some more diesel today for the oil tank. Thank you again to all of you who have donated. Even if I can only do it 40 litres at a time, it is keeping me from freezing to death, so thank you to everyone who has donated to our blog. It is our blog. I could not imagine it without all of you. The comments are as fun as the blog is any day. I love reading what you all have to say, and if I don’t get back at you right away it is because I am having one of my moments and I am simply to tired to type. I will always do my best to get back to you in a timely manner.

I wanted to thank my friend BlueWhiteRed for so selflessly picking up the slack for me on the days I have been to unwell to blog. They seem to be coming more often and I am going to be very happy to get his heart bullshit sorted. I also have a surprise. Because blogging everyday is time consuming and hard when you put the research into it, Paul Saunders better known as the 13th Juror has agreed to help Blue out so that nobody gets overwhelmed or bogged down. I know that you all love Blue’s series on LWOP but I know you will equally love Paul. It bears saying again as well that if any of you want to take a crack at a guest blog by all means. I’m specifically looking at you Mama, Renae and Deb. I know you would make excellent guest bloggers. I am not in any way suggesting that anyone else wouldn’t, I just know that a lot of you are shy. I hope you feel comfortable enough here that Blue is inundated with requests for a slot. Once I am off for my new parts, if you feel of a mind just let Blue know and they will take care of having it published.

The last order of business for this evening. I owe someone an apology and I pay what I owe. Joe Santos made a comment about me that upset me. I looked at the comment, not the reason that he made it. He made it in defense of his friend and no matter how you feel about that particular friend, it is what any good friend would have done. Yes the comment was in bad taste. So was what I did. So Joe, if you see this, I am sorry for the way that I acted. I didn’t think, I just reacted. I know that you all think I was justified in what I said and did, but I myself do not and it is me that has to be able to live with myself at the end of the day. On this one thing I feel that I was wrong.

That is it for tonight my lovelies. I am calling an early night because once again I am exhausted for no reason what so ever, but my body is telling me to try and rest and I am going to pay attention for once.

I hope that you all have a great night and we will see what tomorrow brings as far as the adventures of Stabbyland go.

RBMD peacing the fuck out.

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Since Nothing Is Pressing In The World Of Crime Today This Will Be An Update Blog Plus Some Additions To The Big Book Of Words

November 18, 2014

When it comes to this farce of a penalty phase retrial, a day off is not necessarily a bad thing – planet earth

Hai everybody.  Welcome to a Really Big Mean Dog update blog, plus we have some new entries to the Big Book of Words.  YAY!!

I find it highly amusing that it always seems to be the “experts” and the lawyers and those more Einstein-y than us that come up with all these new and awesome words.

For those of you that may have missed my blog last night, Charles Manson has applied for a marriage license.  I read something about this months ago but of course Charlie being a complete nut bag denied the whole thing saying it was just another groupie and alluding to the fact that he was just using her for whatever she could put in his commissary.  The woman goes by Star and she is a couple of fries short of a happy meal.  Rolling Stone did an article in 2013 which I read and kept a copy of.  You can see it here. http://www.rollingstone.com/culture/news/charles-manson-today-the-final-confessions-of-a-psychopath-20131121  It is an interesting read and I recommend it if you are interested in Manson at all, or in the very special type of fruit loop that he continues to draw in.

We had quite the lively discussion going in the comments about the whole pedophile thing and how sickening it is that the Alexander family is being put through all of this yet again.  I stated my opinion in last nights blog, but that begs another question or 14.  Even if (and I want to emphatically stress that I do not in any way whatsoever believe that Travis had any sexual proclivities towards children) this was the case that he fantasized about young girls, does a fantasy, even one that is that sick warrant death if it is a fantasy?  I will tell you all a secret about me. I used to fantasize almost daily about killing my ex. How I would do it, how I would try and cover it up, what weapons I would use, the fact that the first thing I would do was stab him directly in the junk and then shove a heated curling iron up his ass, whether or not I could feed him to the dogs. It got pretty intense. All of those things were illegal, but they were just fantasies. Should I have been thrown in prison for thinking those things? Should I have been killed because of them? You cannot be put on trial for crimes that you might commit. While we are on the subject of being put on trial; the trial is over and Stabby was convicted of first degree aggravated murder. This is supposed to just be the penalty phase retrial so why is Alfred E being allowed to deliver his case in chief all over again? Why has nobody put a stop to this? This is supposed to be about mitigation only. Not that there is any, but why is this being allowed to continue.

Ross drove me to my test today again and I was saying that I wished there was a way I could pay him back for all the kindness. He reminded me of something. When I first bought this place, maybe my third year here, fall was setting in, Ross had a bunch of things that needed to be done and he broke a hip falling off of a tractor. He has sons but they work far away and it was hard for them to get down unless it was the weekend. Ross would not hear of a little tiny girl coming to do the stuff that needed done, so one night I had this idea. I would sneak down to his farm after 11pm and I would put up hay, or pile wood, stuff like that every night for a week before he caught me out. I wasn’t scared down there. I love Ross’ farm. The barn is warm, he’s got good equipment and there was no way I was going to leave an old man hanging with none of the stuff that absolutely had to be done undone because he had an unfortunate accident. I had just finished putting around 200 bails of hay into the loft and when I dropped down there he was on a pair of crutches with his wife beside him holding hot cider and cookies. She had tears running down her face. Ross looked stern, like he was mad at me for a minute, but then he stepped forward and just shook my hand. I smiled and took a cookie and around a mouthful of it I said “see, I told you I was a farm girl born and bred.” He laughed and apologized for doubting me because of my gender and size and told me he would never forget it. He healed up and got the rest of his stuff done before winter set in but he said he would have never done it without me. I shook it off then. That is just how we do around here Ross I said to him and he nodded agreeably. So today when I said I didn’t know how I could pay him back he said he figured he still owed me a full hay mow and enough wood stacked to get through the winter. Brought tears to my eyes he did. It means that nobody owes anybody anything. We are neighbors and we just do for each other because that is how we roll out here.

The dogs are doing great. Even Bruno, the most damaged dog possibly on the planet because of the asshole that almost killed me is turning into a different dog. I still would not consider him safe around people, but he is now safe around the other dogs and today he even played with peanut. Little tiny peanut who he could crush like a walnut with one bite was played with so gently that I was moved by it. The only thing that Bruno loves or trusts is me and I guess he has decided that if I love the little mop dog than he can safely love her too. I can still hear the vet telling me that he was so mentally unstable he needed to be put down and me getting downright angry and explaining the things that had been done to Bruno and that it was not his fault that he was the way he was and there was no way I would ever do that to him. He told me that if he ever got loose someone would be killed, so I told him that I would be extra careful. Bruno has gotten loose. As long as he doesn’t feel that I am being threatened or that there are strangers on his property, he couldn’t care less about other people. They don’t exist to him. Today he laid down on the floor and let peanut maul at him and his little stumpy tail never stopped going sixty miles an hour. He was said when peanut got bored. He and Mya and Happy and Panzer are all one big happy pack. The other dogs do not challenge him for the alpha spot, and even if they did he would use his size to drive them down and make them submit before he ever used his teeth. That dog has come a million miles. If he can do it, so can I.

Taco spent most of the time the dogs were playing walking across my keyboard, which is his favorite thing to do. I don’t know if it is the clicks that amuse him or the way the buttons sink and come back up, but that guinea pig would spend the entire day running back and forth across the keys if I would let him. He makes happy little chirpy noises and does it for hours. Back and forth and back and forth. It is hilarious to watch, and more hilarious to watch kitty friend watching Taco play on the keyboard. Kitty friend and Taco seem to have an agreement of some kind because they also have nothing but love for one another. They will sometimes cuddle up together and go to sleep.

Our resident expert on the stand for stabbykins Dr. Sexpert has been kind enough to give us a couple of offerings for the big book of words. Apparently I was mistaken and Jizz is not just jizz. It is jizzle. JIZZLE. Seriously. The expert on sexual kink also had no idea what a fuck buddy is, so to help her out I am adding that to the book of words. And just so you all know, anybody that texts after 11pm is totally a perv so stop it all you pervs out there. Just stop.

Finally, I wanted to thank you all for your words and thoughts of support while I deal with whatever is going on with my heart. It is such a wonderful feeling to know that so many people care about what happens to me. From someone who spent their entire life with nobody, it is an awfully comforting feeling. And to those of you who have donated to the blog a HUGE thank you. Thank you for appreciating the time and effort and research that I put into my writings.

That is it for tonight kids. Everybody have a great night and wish me luck tomorrow. Tomorrow is a very important day.
RBMD peacing the fuck out.
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A Very Peanut Update

September 30, 2013

Thought I would drop in and give you all an update on how Peanut is doing.  The vet was today and he was absolutely amazed that the emaciated, matted, terrified, flea infested dog he had seen only six weeks ago had transformed so dramatically. 

She greeted him enthusiastically, wagging her tail and standing up doing her ballerina routine to say hi.  Next she showed him how tough she is now when she pounced on my Mya who outweighs her by a hundred lbs.  Mya seems to find the live stuffed animal quite amusing and takes a ton of abuse from the little mop dog.

Peanut has put on six lbs and is now at a proper weight.  All her sores have healed up, her skin is back to normal, her hair is silky and soft and mentally she is a different dog.  Dr Arora was absolutely amazed.  He told me he could not believe it was the same dog. 

She still has fleas, but mostly because we are having a flea epidemic in Ontario this year and they seem to be becoming resistant to Advantage. 

Mya and Bruno are also quite well.  Peanut has come a thousand miles in just under two months. 

Hopefully sometime soon, something in the courts will entice me once again and I can get back to writing about what I love.  Until then folks, I will keep you updated on other stuff.

 


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