These ceramic tile coaster sets featuring the humor of Zanny make great little stocking stuffers! A variety of tiles is now available at my etsy store. www.etsy.com/shop/nolimitsart
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New Ceramic Tile Coaster Sets Featuring Zanny Rants
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Zanny’s Senior Citizen Online Dating Experiences Chronicled
- My Profile picture
Episode One: The Beginning or “The End”
Recently I was convinced by my dear friend, Diane, (who, by the way, lives vicariously through me) to join an online dating service. Senior citizens can date too, right? What was I thinking and…. what a trip it’s been! This will be an experience worth chronicling!
My daughter came over to take a photo of me to put on my profile. “Smile, Mom!” she said. “I AM!” I replied. After many failed attempts, we settled on one of me sitting on the floor, wearing jeans and a knit top, barefoot. By her standing above me like that, my lovely turkey neck was diminished! She’s so smart sometimes!
I took writing the “about me” section very seriously and spent hours pouring over an in-depth and fairly accurate self analysis fit for sharing. I even ran out of room and had to modify the ending to fit their guidelines. Within days, however, it seemed quite obvious my wordy profile wasn’t being read, let alone appreciated. Before long, I had redone it to a concise 3 sentences. It read something like this: “Extremely independent artist seeks new model. Don’t bother winking as I don’t respond to winks. I promise I won’t attempt to drag you down the aisle and I won’t promise exclusivity after two chats!” I figured most of the viewers weren’t reading anyway, only responding visually to my endearing smile, right?
Initially, I was bombarded with many, many contacts, including tons of im’s from much younger men all around the globe! Didn’t seem to matter I had specified I was looking for someone 55 or older and within a 20 mile radius of my home. (Again, they don’t read!) I was truly amazed that the majority of these men felt I should only chat with them! Honestly. There was Anthony in New York who announced in our second chat he was madly in love with me and I would be his new wife. I told him to get a grip, that he was freaking me out and then I blocked him. There was Rocky, a 40 something military man stationed in Afghanistan. That was trickier as I certainly didn’t want to offend him in any way, but also let him know I’m not interested in men young enough to be my son! And there was the jewel trader from Florida, Michael. We did manage to have 4 or 5 lovely little chats, until he learned I dared to chat with other men too. He announced he doesn’t “double date” and promptly disappeared, never to heard from again! Very strange.
The first person I agreed to actually meet was a 74 year old fellow artist who attended a local sculpting group fairly near my home. Although 74 seemed a bit old to me, the fact he was an artist intrigued me. I made the mistake of agreeing to dinner for this first meeting. (Don’t do that! If you don’t click with the person, you’ll be stuck for hours as opposed to minutes over a coffee at Starbucks!) I drove to the restaurant and arrived before he did. Thankfully, I had opted to sit out on the patio (it was a gorgeous summer evening) as opposed to an inside booth.
Stuart arrived right on time, (I’m always early) and OMG! There is a particular smell that accompanies some “little old men”, and despite the fact we were outside, Stuart reeked of little old man. I don’t know exactly what it is. Do they just not do their laundry very often? Maybe you know what I’m talking about. Additionally, he had an enormous booger hanging off one side of his nose and funny little ear hairs growing wildly. He spent most of the time talking about how his ex-wife had done him wrong and how even his 19 year old daughter had disowned the woman. W-a-i-t a minute. A 19 year old daughter???? I resisted asking any questions about that timing, you know…was that an accidental pregnancy or did you want to father a child at such a late stage in life? It didn’t matter. I had already determined this would be our only meeting. He wasn’t impolite, or obnoxious. He just wasn’t someone I’d seriously “date”. Funny thing is, I knew that the minute he walked into the restaurant.
Chemistry, even at this age, is critical. Either it’s there or it’s not. You can’t pretend it exists. You can’t force it. You can’t wish it into being. I can’t explain it, but I know within the first 10 seconds whether it’s there or not. If not, the most we can hope for is a friendship. And that was the case with Stuart.
After dinner I politely excused myself, letting him know I don’t care to drive after dark. He walked me to my car, invited me to attend his sculpting group, which I declined, and announced he’d be in touch. Later that week, he did send an email. I didn’t respond.
So much for my first online dating encounter. Can hardly wait to see who appears next! I‘ll let you know how it goes as it goes. Stay tuned.
Continue reading Zanny’s Senior Citizen Online Dating Experiences Chronicled »
Zanny Has An Etsy Store!
Lots of my prints are now available at
http://www.etsy.com/shop/zannyrants
Please go check them out and buy something!
Things That Make Me Wanna Run Into The Arms of the Pot-smokin’, Harley-ridin’ Redneck Next Door or…Why I Still Smoke.
We aren’t a match. Other than the fact we’re both still smokers, we have little in common. He’d drive me crazy over any extended period of time if for no other reason than his deplorable use of the English language. “She don’t” and “ain’t no”. Not to mention the uncontrolled and unexcused releases of “vapors”, the bigotry and prejudices, the swearing, the macho man bravado. Yet…….tonight I’m tempted to run over there and throw myself shamelessly into his arms….or maybe even his bed! Why? Because he likes me, and I like him. He smiles at me. He does simple, nice, little things for me, like killing the weeds in my yard without letting me know. Like buying a special cushioned seat for the Harley so my bony butt is more comfy on our rides. Like picking up a huge bottle of Aleve at Costco for me because it costs less there. However, the thought of throwing myself at him is insanity. That’s why I’m safely tucked into my own home, sitting behind this keyboard expecting the exercise of writing to somehow soothe my aching heart. Of course I’ll feel better for it, and the desire to simply be hugged, held, accepted, protected, …. well, it’ll subside. It always does. Which brings me to the point of writing, learning to be my own best friend. It is an ongoing and often repeated exercise. Most recently, it was my beautiful 24 year old, non-smoking daughter who unleashed with a barrage of verbal attacks centered around my smoking habit.
Somewhere along the way, early on, I got the message that no matter what I did, said, chose, wanted, desired, accomplished, it simply wasn’t going to measure up. Not “it”. ME. I didn’t measure up. I wasn’t right, I wasn’t good enough, I wasn’t up to the set standards. The message was delivered in subtle to dramatic ways, although perhaps unintentionally. Doesn’t matter what the intention was right now. What matters is recognizing repeated patterns I’ve adopted for survival in my struggle to simply be accepted, maybe even loved, just the way I am, imperfect and flawed. And in some oddly twisted way, beyond the addiction, my continued smoking is part of my need to be recognized and accepted for who I am!
Born the second of three daughters to Irish Catholic parents who survived the Great Depression. Crap. That just about explains it all. Everything. Seemingly quite simple. Always compared to my older sister’s exemplary behavior, the role model. Told at age 3 to “sit down and be quiet” when imitating her antics, which minutes before had brought laughter and applause. Told at age 7, in preparation for my first confession and holy communion, that I’m a sinner. It’s really pathetic and ironic that I went to my first confession and LIED! There’s just something wrong with that lesson. Being physically booted across the laundry room at age 15 by my smoking father for smoking!!! Being denied design school for an elementary education degree at a Catholic college. I knew very early that I was an artist. No, I couldn’t have articulated those words at the time, but I knew. It’s why I came to the planet. It’s all I’ve ever considered myself. An artist. Not a school teacher. No wonder I ended up weighing 82 pounds with a severe case of ulcerative colitis. It wasn’t my appendix, which they mistakenly took out first. It was a severe case of imposed self-denial! Falling in love with the brother of the guy who got the saintly older sister pregnant was, of course, totally unacceptable. My first love, denied. I suppose, if I have one regret in life it’s that I didn’t sleep with the guy! He was hit by lightening and killed instantly at the tender age of 22. The pain was overwhelming and shortly after that I left for parts of the world unknown. Got on a jet and literally flew to the furthest geographical location from my home town! And I’ve never gone back other than to visit.
Throughout my journey, no matter what the up or down of the day, the cigarettes were there. Always. It didn’t matter whether it was pleasure or pain, celebration or grief, fun and games or sadness and sorrow, they were always there. Still are. Through 4 marriages and divorces, through single parenting, through self-employment as a freelance artist/illustrator, they were there. One constant in my life I could rely on. God knows I learned early in my life you can’t rely on people! They find fault, judge, criticize, manipulate and try to control. Cigarettes don’t. They have been my partner in this incredible and often difficult trip, neither detracting nor enhancing, but simply being part of it. An unwavering, non-judgmental, non-critical constant.
Last year I had a minor heart attack. Spent 2 days in the hospital and got a stint put in. Sure the doctor wants me to quit smoking. He says my x-ray shows the evidence of emphysema. Dah! After 50 years of smoking, that would hardly be a surprise. Here’s the thing, though. I don’t want to quit smoking. I simply don’t. Although it makes no sense logically, hanging on to the habit is my way of stamping my little girl feet and screaming “just love me the way I am”! It’s a defiant act. I know that. It is a nasty habit that’s incredibly expensive now and shortening my life. And still I don’t want to quit. I understand why non-smokers don’t get it; they simply don’t/can’t understand why we smokers (at least this one) continue to smoke. And I’m not talking about the actual physical addiction to whatever chemicals my body craves now. It’s a powerful psychological connection I have with the habit. It says very loud and clear “I’m gonna do it my way. I don’t care what you think or what you want. You don’t like me anyway. What the hell is the difference to you?!” It is deeply, deeply ingrained. It is part of my struggle to be recognized. It is part of my self-image. I honestly have no concept of being a non-smoker and fear that if I give them up, somehow my very autonomy will disappear.
Perhaps with these new awarenesses and insights, I can change things. Perhaps I can come to a place of self-acceptance and grasp I don’t need the crutch any longer. Hell, I have a redneck neighbor who likes me just as I am! That is a start. And… for now, I remain inside my home, safely tucked away with my smokes and keyboard. Maybe tomorrow morning I just won’t light up that first one. Yeah, right! I’m pretty certain, though, that as grateful as I am for his friendship, tomorrow morning my redneck friend won’t look nearly as attractive as he did earlier this evening. Thank heavens for the therapeutic catharsis of writing!
Friend or True Friend? What’s the Difference?
The term friendship, like love, has myriad definitions. My neighbor is my friend, although we only wave politely and engage in small talk and banter as we haul in our trash cans. My sister is my friend, although we live far apart and have little in common. My fellow artists in the guild are my friends, although our conversations center around art. So how can you recognize a true friend and what defines the difference between a friend and a true friend? Who are those people you hold dearest to your heart and why? What is required to share a deep, rewarding friendship? I’ve recently been analyzing my friendships and how much I have invested in them; what am I willing to give and what am I getting in return?
Janie and I have known each other for over 40 years now. We met when I was hired on as a teller at the bank. Even though we were both only 22, she was my boss. We became friends over the months, a rather natural development of having many of the same acquaintances from the bank. Over those early years we had some tremendous fun and laughter together: making day jaunts to the beach; car rallies in the mountains; sharing our sexual escapades; drinking parties at the local pub. It was a carefree, frivolous time in our lives and I look back now with the fondest of memories.
Eventually I married and moved away. We stayed in contact over the years, although our conversations became less frequent simply because our lives were so very different. She never married or had children. She didn’t leave the bank until she retired a few years ago. She never moved out of the city. Our circle of old buddies had disbanded and our commonalities grew fewer and fewer. I, on the other hand, had several husbands and countless jobs (most of them as a freelance illustrator), moving from state to state whenever the situation required, and I may never retire! Yet we spoke on a regular basis, occasionally for hours on end.
The fact our lives had grown in such vastly different directions didn’t matter. At least not to me. I believed she would always be there for me, as I was for her. And some part of me still wants to believe that, despite repeated and varied signs to the contrary. In recent years, I’ve noticed her response to me has changed. When she would travel across the state, including mountain passes, to visit her parents, I would call on her expected arrival date home to make sure she had a safe trip and would be met with words like “Ah……geez. I already have a mother, Zanny!” When I would ask for her opinion on some given project I’m working on, rather than offering any feedback, her response would be “I wonder what it is that makes you so need other’s approval.” Another way of saying “why are you so needy?” Often I would call and be met with the words “Oh, I just sat down to my dinner.” Another way of saying dinner is far more important than speaking with you? Perhaps these seem like small things, and they are, but when these kinds of demeaning messages are repeated often enough, well,….I’ve gotta say it’s no wonder I often felt worse for having called her at all! It became apparent I was mostly a “bother”. Finally now, after several years of this kind of abuse, I have had enough. I get it! I get the message. Enough already. I have not called for over 6 months, and neither has she. Doesn’t that say a lot!?!
Of course I still think of her as my friend, always will on some level. I hope that if either of us had an emergency situation arise, we would be there for each other. I will always want only the very best for her. However, I now believe that simply having known someone for 40 years does not necessarily mean it is one of those cherished and treasured true friendships.
I have no idea how many thousands of people I’ve met across the span of my life, but I recognize that true friendship is a special gift to be appreciated, nurtured and celebrated by both participants. I am blessed to have several true friends for whom I am most grateful. We speak often with enthusiasm, interest and support for one another. It isn’t necessarily a consequence of a blood connection or the longevity of the relationship. It is an inner connection, and as much as I’ve come to loathe the term “soul-mate”, it does seem to me it is a soul/spirit recognition of each other. Kahlil Gibran described it this way… “Let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.”
Have you taken a look at your friendships lately to see if your spirit is deepened by them? If not, maybe it’s time for you to find some new friends, too.
Continue reading Friend or True Friend? What’s the Difference? »
Positive or Negative, It’s All About Energy
This is a true story I wrote last evening about the effects of the energy each of us contributes ongoingly to everything and everyone around us, whether we’re aware of it or not. Positive or negative, each of us does make a difference in how well (or not) the planet continues to evolve. I’d love your thoughts on the subject!
POSITIVE OR NEGATIVE, IT’S ALL ABOUT ENERGY
A few nights ago I received a phone call from my very dear friend, Dana. It was late, 11:30 PM, but that wasn’t unusual. We speak almost every night around that time. What was different and alarming was that she sounded as if she were on her deathbed, literally! I could barely hear or understand her. I knew she’d been suffering for several days with a low-grade migraine headache, which had apparently escalated into one of those COMPLETELY debilitating, AWFUL episodes that knock you totally senseless. There is no way to describe the excruciating pain to someone who has never suffered through a full-blown migraine. It truly is debilitating! You really do become immobilized, and yes, even talking on the phone is damn near impossible.
Of course, I’ve never heard of anyone actually dying from a migraine headache. If that was all (I use the term “all” lightly here) Dana was suffering from, I wouldn’t have been so upset and concerned. But there’s so much more going on for her now. I call it total overload. Stress of every kind, including financial, emotional and physical. Totally overwhelming, soul-wearying overload. Feeling trapped and isolated, with no solutions appearing on the horizon. It’s the kind of overload that makes you question your very existence and it’s purpose.
Because we live in different states, there was really very little I could do to comfort or support her. I asked for phone numbers of someone, anyone, close-by who could bring her some Excedrin Migraine. (She had none.) She needed someone who could help manage the tremendous responsibilities of running an animal sanctuary. Eventually and reluctantly, she gave me the number of a friend she considers a surrogate daughter, followed immediately with all the reasons why this woman shouldn’t be called. After all, she had children of her own and it was late! DAH! OK, and…….you need help, my friend!
After ending the conversation, such as it was, I placed that phone call to the surrogate daughter. I got the answering machine, but left an “urgent” help request for Dana, leaving my contact information as well. Then I thought of another person who might be able and willing to be of some assistance in what I thought was a crisis situation, based on how Dana sounded.
His name is, for this story, Tom, although some (me, me, me) might say asshole is definitely more appropriate! This man first appeared at the animal sanctuary 11 or 12 years ago, showing obvious concern for the animals, but also a LUST for Dana! Initially, their relationship was very passionate, even sometimes romantic. During that euphoric period, she and I spent many hours trying to figure out this guy and his motives. Although he was married, he didn’t share a residence with his wife. He had little interaction or relationship with her and, yet, had absolutely no interest in or intention of leaving the marriage. Perhaps, we eventually concluded, it was a financial decision.
Over the years, he has remained an integral part of Dana’s life, although in my humble opinion, not a healthy one. The passion and romance have been replaced with bitterness and rage. Sweet nothings once whispered have become foul-mouthed, vicious personal attacks. I’ve heard about them for years now, although they’re something I’ve never personally been exposed to…. until the other night, that is! OMG…..
Tom has been a huge financial support for the sanctuary, giving many thousands and thousands of dollars, bringing hay and food (for both people and animals), clothing, blankets, and all kinds of necessary equipment. He has managed to make himself damn near indispensable to the operation of the ranch. THAT is his insurance policy guaranteeing my friend won’t just kiss his sorry ass good-bye, which I wish to God she could do. I understand she can’t right now simply because of the financial support he does offer. An unfortunate but true reality for her survival, as well as the hundreds of other lives for which she is responsible.
Initially, I called Tom to ask if he could please check on Dana and perhaps bring her some Excedrin, but within seconds of making my innocent enough request on her behalf, a torrent of extremely foul-mouthed, screaming, rageful accusations were hurled at ME, and anyone else who supposedly “supports” Dana and the animals she rescues. Quite honestly, in all my years and the many difficult situations I’ve experienced, I’ve NEVER before had anyone become so instantly and completely unhinged and out of control like that. (Have I mentioned vulgar?) I was floored, shocked, flabbergasted, and, despite my calm and polite demeanor, was totally unable to reign in this man’s nasty, vulgar hate and rage spewing. After listening to his barrage of attacks on everyone, I interrupted with a cold “Thank you, Tom.” Then I simply hung up the phone. Later, in hindsight, I wish I had challenged his resentment and anger more. Why didn’t I ask if someone was forcing him to be the ranch savior? Why didn’t I confront his need to lash out and his denial of assistance for Dana that evening? Perhaps because I was in shock. Or because I do have a basically non-confrontational demeanor. Or just maybe because some part of me knew it would only serve to enrage him further. And now it’s a moot point. I have no intention of EVER speaking to Tom again, about anything. (Notice I didn’t use the word never!)
It’s been several days since that whole incident occurred. Dana is feeling better, and in fact, called me the next morning sounding like a human being once again. The headache and accompanying nausea were gone. Thankfully! However, I am still upset and somewhat angry about the experience. Of course, my anger serves no purpose, but perhaps my writing will.
*******************
I believe in energy…. that everything is made up, basically, of the same energy in different forms. Dogs easily pick up on the “energy” of people. They sense fear, anger, deceit. Things we humans are pretty much now desensitized from recognizing. It isn’t that we don’t have these same instinctual abilities, it’s that they’ve been trained out of us by society, religions, politics, advertising, big business……and on and on. Not only have we been dumbed down intellectually, but on a soul-level, as well.
There are some, however, who do cling to these inner knowings, believing in what the “unawares” might call silly or ridiculous. Things like “smudgings”, “cleansings”, or “energy clearing”. It is why some study and practice Feng Shui, understanding the significance of the energy created in a space by the use of color and the placement of furniture and objects within that space. Psychics read “auras”. Ghostbusters pick up on temperature fluctuations and sounds. It’s why some believe in the power of prayer and miracles. These are all about energy, both individually and collectively. It is why my thoughts for you , and yours for me, and our collective consciousness regarding the world DO matter.
Dana and I have been having an ongoing debate about this subject for the last few days. We have agreed to disagree. You see, my theory is that there is no way the angry, bitter, rageful energy Tom brings onto the ranch is NOT affecting the entire place….from the animals to the people, to the finances, to the success or failure of the operation. She does not see it that way. In her mind, she is now so used to his rage she has “desensitized” herself from it’s impact and he, therefore, doesn’t have much affect. I do understand that, and am glad she no longer takes his attacks personally. I understand that she has seen the best and the worst of this man, and is able to distance herself from that “worst” part. She also argues that it can’t be true if you don’t believe it’s true.
I think what I’m hearing is that if she doesn’t believe Tom has any influence on the energy of the ranch, well then, he simply doesn’t. I disagree completely! In my opinion, he does. I believe he cannot NOT affect the ranch. Oh sure, there are times when he may be on “good behavior”, when he manages to be polite, cordial, even charming. She may be anesthetized to his vulgarity and abuse, but the animals can feel it. Tom simply cannot dismiss, change or let go of the horrific inner anger he feels, even if he is on good behavior. Every animal on that ranch knows it, regardless of what either Dana or myself believes! It is, for whatever reason, part of the lessons he is here to learn, and until he transforms from the inside out, that kind of negative energy spills over to everything and everyone he touches.
Yes, I am glad Dana believes she is protected, and yes, I understand why she defends her position so vehemently. Yet, I continue to encircle her with white light daily, (my way of sending protection) as well as encircling the entire ranch and every living thing on it. I pray $2.25 million floods into her life immediately so she can free herself and the ranch from what I consider a very destructive (whether intentional or not) force affecting her life tremendously, right down to migraine headaches!
The days continue as usual for Dana, dealing with enormous responsibilities and the ongoing stress of life as an animal rescuer. We converse daily. The conversations rarely change. There is the constant influx of new animals, the constant need for more donations, not to mention the enormous amount of physical labor required that would overwhelm most of us. All I can do is be here to support her, without attempting to dictate how she runs her life or whom she allows influence in it, even if that includes Tom. It is sometimes challenging to keep my mouth shut! I would have kicked him to the curb quite some time ago. These are not my lessons to learn. I am an observer and a supporter only. But believe me, the next time she calls sounding as if she’s on her way out, I will be more selective in soliciting help on her behalf!
Continue reading Positive or Negative, It’s All About Energy »
The End of a Very Long Era: In Memory of my Dog
Keebler Alf
My little dog, Keebler Alf, died on Friday and I’m still not over the shock of it all. Yes, he was old, probably 18 (he was a young adult dog when I found him dodging traffic in Denver in 1992) but……… he was in great shape with no apparent health problems whatsoever and I’m honestly in shock that he’s gone. Sudden loss is always difficult. This is the first time in many, many years I have no little charges to take care of (be they feline, canine, avian or human) and it’s feeling incredibly awful, and yet, awfully incredible, all at the same time. Confusing.
Certainly part of me wants to run out and immediately fill the void with a new puppy, and yet, I can’t do that. Not now. Not at this stage of my life. Not while I’m still grieving Keebler’s loss. It would be a totally selfish motive and unfair to whatever new little critter I adopted. And besides, it may just be time for me to be free of the responsibility of another’s care, something I haven’t experienced for so long. In some strange way, it’s a frightening feeling, rather like the rug has been yanked from beneath my feet and I haven’t hit the ground yet. Hopefully, I’ll land on my feet, without injury.
Twice today someone has knocked at my door and there was no bark alerting me. How very strange. I no longer have to schedule my trips to insure I’ll be home in time to let the dog out. I no longer have to spend ridiculous amounts of money on the special food he needed due to his food allergy. There’ll be no more scooping poop from the back yard. No more vacuuming up hair or mopping up muddy paw prints in the kitchen. I can now walk away from my lunch and not worry about it being gone when I return. Wouldn’t it seem all this freedom would feel great? It doesn’t. Not yet. And if the truth were to be known, it’s freakin’ me out.
As uncomfortable as this is, all I know to do is wait. Let some time pass and try out this new lifestyle. Perhaps a month from now it will feel more “right”. And… maybe it won’t. I won’t know till I get there. I feel guilty for even entertaining the notion that I’ll enjoy this new freedom he’s given me.
Good bye, my little buddy. I miss you horribly.
Continue reading The End of a Very Long Era: In Memory of my Dog »
Ranting about the Power of Advertising
I’ve decided I’m not going to watch tv any longer, but that has nothing to do with the subject of this rant; stupid, stupid advertisements! I am somewhat insulted that whoever created these ads thinks I’m gonna purchase their product because some cute, talking animal (or worse, piece of cereal) delivers the message. Oh but wait……. there’s a method to their madness.
It’s called branding!
Just think about this for a minute. When you see a gecko now, what company automatically comes to your mind? Or what restaurant chain comes to mind when you see a ball with a triangle on top of it? Or how ’bout the waddling, talking duck?
It’s the power of association, I think. Doesn’t matter how stupid the image may seem on the surface, as long as it’s driven deep into your brain with repeated messaging, bingo! Mission accomplished.
So ok, maybe I shouldn’t be insulted, but instead learn to use the same technique to develop my own line of products, let’s say the Zanny Rants notecards! The trick is to find an image that is used on every single item, posting, t-shirt……whatever…. that is IMMEDIATELY associated with snarky Zanny. I’m thinking maybe the image below speaks volumes. Anyone care to share your thoughts? I’m starving for some feedback.
Zanny Rants
Ranting about Special Needs Pets
Yesterday my daughter called quite upset. One of her customers showed up with a small, curly puppy that he couldn’t keep. The story was he “found” it on the street. “Oh, mom, he’s soooooooo cute and so sweet. I think he must be an Old English sheepdog mix, but I can’t know for sure. He’s very curly and cuddly. But, mom, he has no eyes!” HUH? What do you mean he has no eyes??? She went on to explain that where eyes should be were just sunken in depressions!
We’ve been through this before…. her customers showing up with puppies they can’t (or don’t want to) keep any longer. Our combined efforts have found homes for a schnauzer, a bishon friese, and a maltese, just to name a few. Those were all purebred dogs, though, and with no obvious health issues. But this little guy? Wow, what to do?
Because I am, and have always been, an animal advocate and rescuer, the first thing I said to my daughter was “Please, whatever you do, DO NOT let him take that puppy to the local animal shelter!” The reasons are obvious. Far too many “adoptable” dogs already occupy the local shelters, and unfortunately, even many of them never find their way out except in the very sad solution of euthanasia (cough, cough, sputter, sputter!). There would be no question about this particular puppy’s fate if turned in to a regular animal shelter.
I got on the phone and began calling friends, and the responses I got were quite interesting. Most of them said “Oh, how said. Perhaps the kindest thing to do would be to put the poor thing to sleep!” Then I spoke to my dear friend, Diane, who founded PAALS (People And Animals Living Synergistically), a “no-kill” animal sanctuary located on a gorgeous 160 acre ranch in Colorado. Her response, unsurprisingly, was quite different. Even though her sanctuary is struggling through these difficult economic times with an influx of animals and a decrease in donations, like so many across the country, she immediately, without hesitation, said enthusiastically, “Let’s find some way to get him to me! We could make this puppy a star for all special needs animals, you know, like Faith, the famous dog born with no front legs! Call your local news/media outlets and suggest it as a story.” Amazing, the difference in attitude.
This morning I called my daughter to tell her the good news. Unfortunately, she has no contact information for the man who had the puppy and unless he shows up again, asking for help, we’re at a standstill for this little guy. In the meantime, I’ll keep my fingers, toes and eyeballs crossed he does show up with puppy in hand.
I can do one more thing…..appeal to you to make a donation to Diane’s sanctuary (www.paalsforlife.com) or a no-kill animal organization in your area. They all need our help desperately right now. So many lives depend on it. PAALS has a new documentary, if you’d like to see the ranch, on youtube at this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-aflfi_gkFQ
More on Blogging as a Business Venture
It’s occurred to me you might find some of the “mentors” I’ve come across helpful in your own blogging experience, so I’ve compiled a list of all the websites where I’ve found useful and/or valuable information in some way. A word of caution, however. Be certain you know what you’re signing up for prior to adding your coveted email address to ANY “offer”. DO READ ANY FINE PRINT to avoid monthly surprises on your PayPal or credit card account. Also, I’ve found there’s much to be learned by reading the comments sections of these sites. Sometimes the questions asked are ones I wouldn’t even have known to ask! That’s pathetic, but true. I’m not recommending any one of them, simply providing information for you to check out yourself, based on my own experience (and lack of expertise!)
Caroline Middlebrook ~ www.caroline-middlebrook.com
Yaro Starak ~ www.blogmastermind.com
Josh Spaulding ~ www.josh-recommends.com
Andrew Hansen ~ www.nichemarketingoncrack.com
Listed below are some names of folks geared to the internet/network marketing angle of this process. They’re goal is to make BIG money online, and honestly, after studying this stuff for awhile now, I’m even more aware of all there is to learn! OMG! Please keep in mind many of these gurus are wanting you to purchase their training courses, manuals, e-books, etc., but I don’t think that’s necessarily bad. Education costs. Guess it just depends on your goals and aspirations, dedication and current financial position to determine the value of each program.
Howie Schwartz ~ www.conversationdomination.com
Jeff Johnson ~ www.undergroundconfessions.com
(There are many free videos by this man on youtube! Very informative, and for me, somewhat overwhelming. Info overload!)
Mike Dillard ~ www.magneticsponsoring.com
Brian Fanale ~ www.black-belt-marketing.com
(Mike and Brian work together and are aggressively promoting their own products, but it may work for you. Definitely worth checking out if you want to develop an internet marketing business.)