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Wednesdays With Mija
Hey everybody… Jean here with another post from Mija.
She’s asked me to tell you about a video that we watched together. Seriously, she sat in my lap while I cued the video up on the computer.
When I attended the BlogPaws Conference in September I met a couple of hip and happenin’ twenty-something guys who had a very creative idea.
They’re addressing the problem of pet overpopulation.
They created Help Joey.
“To stop animals from getting their swerve on.”
Apparently I am so far from twenty-something, I don’t even know that phrase. “Swerve on” means having sex. (I thought some of you also might be wondering…)
So this is a humorous means of addressing a serious problem.
Help Joey is all about raising awareness about the need for spaying and neutering cats and dogs.
Joey and the rest of his hip team are making funny videos to illustrate their point.
Mija laughed her little white cat patootie off at this one. Check it out. In this video, Joey is trying to learn how to speak “cat” so that he can say, STOP DOING IT!
Great job guys.
I love the creativity.
Take a look and then tell me what you think.
P.S. Big news for them – the ASPCA has decided to get behind Help Joey and their mission.
Wednesdays with Mija
Note from Jean: Its time for another potcast from Mija. This is our final blog post in coordination with Petfinder and their project for adopting less adoptable animals. Mija wanted to get her two cents into the dialogue.
I want to tell you about my little brother Maxwell. We weren’t biological brother and sister, but we shared the same peeps. We were family all the same.
Maxwell was a very handsome little tuxedo cat. His story doesn’t start out so well (but it has a good ending). It seems the people he was first living with, right after he was born, thought he was trash.
They were driving on a very busy road in our town and tossed him out the window of the car.
He landed in the grass on the side of the road.
Fortunately for Maxwell, a kindly woman, saw this horrible act. She stopped her car and searched until she found him. Luckily he had soft kitten bones and wasn’t hurt. She took him to a veterinarian and that’s how our people found him. It was the same veterinarian where I lived for a little while.
I have to say that Maxwell was kind of a mess when he first came to live with us. He was afraid, no make that terrified, of most everything. I can’t blame him. He had a bad experience with people. It took him ten years to work up his courage to sit in a lap. He missed out on a lot of good cuddling.
At first, he thought I was his mother, which really annoyed me. I was just a couple of months older, and nowhere near ready to be anybody’s mother. But he followed me everywhere wanting to snuggle. He thought he could get milk from me. Can you believe that? I had to bat him away a few times until he got the message.
After he grew up a little, we became friends. Maxwell lived a very good life with us for the rest of his life. He loved to sit on the patio in the sun, chase bugs, climb the tree in our yard, and sleep in the sun. I think he would have loved eating fish flakes, but he didn’t get a chance because he died before we found out about them. He inherited a bad disease from his mother, and just wasn’t able to keep on living.
But while we knew him, Maxwell was a great part of our family. He was really Jean’s cat. She named him after the movie character Mad Max – the Road Warrior, for obvious reasons. He was a road warrior. They had a special bond, and she was the only person he wasn’t afraid of.
Here’s my question: Why don’t people give animals to someone who wants them, if they don’t want to keep them? All animals deserve to find their forever homes. Maxwell wasn’t trash and he didn’t deserve to be treated like he was.
Gone but not forgotten little Maxwell.
There are lots of great animals waiting for the perfect home. You just have to open your eyes (and your heart) to find them.
Adopt an animal someone else didn’t want. You won’t be sorry.
“The greatness of a nation and its moral progress
can be judged by the way its animals are treated.”
Growing old has its fair share of ups and downs.
Perhaps more than its share, and often not so fair.
On the up side are some very cool attributes, like life experience, wisdom, and the ability to see the big picture of life. As we age we develop a worldview that is, with any luck at all, kinder and gentler.
On the down side, aging is not for the faint of heart. Growing old takes more courage than I ever imagined.
Ours is still an ageist society, despite the many efforts for enlightenment and change.
Put simply, we don’t value age.
In many situations, old people become invisible.
Treated as if they no longer matter.
And so, it seems are old animals.
This week, September 19 – 25 has been designated “Adopt a Less Adoptable Pet Week” by Petfinder. If you aren’t familiar with this national organization, follow the link. It’s a great group of dedicated people who help rescued animals find their forever homes.
The focus of the week is to shine a light on animals that get passed over for adoption, and of course, to find them good homes.
A study done by Petfinder showed that 30% of the animals not adopted were seniors. Maybe people are looking for the proverbial Fountain of Youth through their pets. I don’t know, but the number saddens me.
Indeed, babies are adorable – human and animal. I’ve already gone on record about that. But I also find something quite wonderful about people and animals that have, shall we say, been around the block more than once.
If you’ve read me for a while, you know by the title of this blog, and my passionate descriptions of my two old sweeties, and one personable, earless old cat, how I feel.
My life is blessed by the presence of my senior animals. They are my friends, my companions and my teachers. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.
If you’re looking for an animal companion, think about sharing your life with a senior pet. Second hand does certainly not mean second best.
And if adding an animal to your household isn’t on the agenda, think about making a donation to one of the many shelters and rescue organizations that provide respite for abandoned animals.
Here in Fort Collins, with funding resources so scarce, Animal House is fighting for survival. These folks do great work and could use your help.
Last week something happened in my life that gave me goose bumps. I’m going to tell you this story and ask for your thoughts, your reaction, your interpretation.
But first, you’ll need some background. Early in August I wrote a post about my texting mishap. I was trying to text the phrase thank you and it came out as “tank lama.” You can read about it here if you’d like a quick review of my texting debacle.
Fast forward to last Thursday, the day my post on gratitude appeared. I was getting ready to go to Denver for two days for the Blog Paws conference. It seemed like I had a million errands. Why is it so darned hard to leave town? Okay, that’s a post for another time.
First goose-bumpy event: I was stopped at a light waiting for it to turn green, my mind racing, jumping from one thing to the next that I had to get done in a relatively short amount of time. I was feeling hassled. I was frankly annoyed at having to wait at the light. I had no time to waste. I stared at the license plate on the vehicle in front of me, willing it to move. Then I noticed the license plate. It read, “Tank 1.” I smiled and immediately remembered the whole “tank lama” gratitude thing.
I took a deep breath.
Next goose bumper: Later that day, when I was still feeling stressed because it was growing late and I had many things left on my to-do list, I was again sitting in traffic. Just as we started to move, a pick up truck darted in front of me, practically cutting me off. “What in the world are you doing?” I snarled at the driver, who of course couldn’t hear me. I was irritated at this rude and dangerous driving behavior. Then I looked at what was stenciled on the back of the truck. “Do you want to go tankless?” it asked.
“Whoa,” I muttered.
And I took another deep breath.
Here I am writing about gratitude and then spending my day feeling irritated and stressed out. Hmmm…
I believe I have guardian angels (I call them my guides) and I think this synchronicity of events came from them. It was perhaps a reminder to slow down, breathe and remember to really feel grateful.
I think she or he or they were feeling mischievous and found a funny, yet effective way to get my attention. “Walk your talk” they seemed to shout at me.
And, you know what? It worked. I lightened up and remembered to keep breathing. Instant stress reducer.
So here’s my question for you: Have you had a similar synchronous event? I’d love to hear about it. And where do you stand on the whole guardian angel/guide notion?
P.S. There are no right or wrong answers!