Until you hang upon such a cross, you won't know a thing about laughter or loss...and you don't believe me now, but you will...you will, you wil you will you will...you will, you will - Titus Andronicus

Hey All, Best Read This First:

reetings and a warm welcome to my blog.

First things first

This blog contains words and references offensive to those who never made it through the maturation process.

The intellectually and psychologically impaired will find nothing here to enjoy.

If this applies to you, dear reader, you're welcome, and strongly encouraged to leave now. No hard feelings on my part.

I'm trying to make this clear to the 'boo hoo brigade". If you CANNOT grasp this simple concept. This page is NOT FOR YOU


*PS: I'm pro Palestinian, pro animal rights in a way that pisses many people off. You should consider fucking off now if you object to this kind of thing.

Cheers Kiddies.


PS This blog is not really fit for human consumption, it's best read as it was written, drunk on vodka or otherwise high as a kite...Enjoy...


Give Me Your Poor, Your Hungry Your Detritus etc etc

Hello, I hope you are all doing quite well, if you're not doing all that well, I'm sorry to hear this. It's no fun being ill. But you know, the Gods sport with us as though we were flies or something or other.

I was thinking what I could post that would be some kind of circuit breaker to the "heavy" posts distinctly lacking any entertainment value, and I thought "Eureka!"(no I didn't, I thought, what the fuck am I going to write that isn't going to be shot through with impending moving and bathroom rehab angst? Fucking WHAT??)

And then I thought I know! I know! I'll write about some of the menagerie of cats and dogs of all descriptions we've fostered. It's been a wild ride I can tell you. 

The first guests in our Convalescence Home for Cats 'n Dogs were cats, tiny waif like cats. Sick, injured, starving, hard up poor little cats. The thing is, once you start with a few waifs, word seems to get around, (somehow) and soon all kinds of cats turned up on our doorstep: the dumped, the dumpy, the starving, the obvious carpet bagger opportunists, you know, the "I live a few doors down the road, I heard I can mooch a meal off you guys?" type cats.

These are the "junkies" of the cat world. Their food addiction drives them from house to house, bellies swaying, looking for some new sucker to mooch off. Yeah yeah, like I don't know what the go is with you friggin' sponges.  I knew these cats very well, they had collars and always came around to hang out with our own cats - till they heard the dinner gong from their own homes, and before we could shut the door and say "thank Christ that fat bastard's gone", they'd be back, sitting on our lounge looking for action. There was no beating these cats. You just let 'em in. It was the easiest thing to do.

It was in this period that we experienced the only death of one of our orphans. A tortoiseshell kitten, no bigger than a teaspoon, her poor little body was wracked with illness and her tiny lungs wheezed like a whistle with almost every breath she took.  In spite of our hourly  medicinal ministrations, this little girl (whom we called Raisin on account of her tiny size) died several days later at the vet. He was never confident she was going to make it anyhow. It was sad in a way that's hard to describe. It's hard not think about the kind of life she could have had. She was beyond pretty and like all kittens, sweet as a spoonful of honey. Poor girl.

There was the inevitable parade of mothers with kittens, I remember one gorgeous family I tactfully as possible 'removed' from someone ("X") I worked with who had no fucking idea about the care of anything, except for herself. The cat was obviously in pain, horribly underweight as were her tiny weeks old kittens. I got the uncaring fuck as drunk as a skunk and absconded with her cat family into the night. I remember when X first told me about them, apparently, the mother, too weak to use her customary toilet outside, performed her ablutions on the floor beside the box, the kindly Ms X concluded the story with the words: "I kicked her arse from here to Christmas" That's the merciful human ape for you. After finding that this nasty twat's weakness was gin, my plan was hatched, executed. Done.

Anyway, all's well that ends well, the mother it turned out was suffering from mastitis and some kind of uterine infection which responded well to antibiotics, peace, and the prescribed pasta and chicken diet. Her kittens grew to be fat little meatballs who oddly enough, would follow us around in a straight line like a family of ducks. As they could never organize themselves into a regular,  sequential line of kittens, we didn't bother naming them, if they were going to be that unhelpful, they had to take their own chances. If they ended up with embarrassing names from their future homes, they had only themselves to blame.

We then moved, and then came the Dogs. In some ways, homeless dogs are somehow a more pathetic sight than cats. Cats adore good homes as much as dogs, but dogs really need to belong to something. There's no sadder sight than a dog without a group to call his own. That look of forlorn hope in their eyes when you go past their pens in shelters is awful. All you want to say to each and every one is  "Look here son, pack your miserable belongings together and you'll be on our couch in a matter of minutes" Sadly, even we can't be that open handed. We had cats, jobs, uni and God knows what else to contend with.

Well, after an assortment of dogs of all shapes and weird sizes, all of whom we loved, (the little shrill ones, we maybe loved not so much, but liked well enough), then came the Radiohead of Dogs: the Greyhound. By this time we had our own grey, she was the English Greyhound referred to in an earlier post. More of a dream than a dog, for us, the most perfect animal that ever walked the earth, besides other greyhounds and Havana cats (well what do you THINK I'm going to fucking say?)

All of our greyhound guests were loved, doted on, and fed like Queens, (they all had to be female on account of our other dog, a male basenji who would not tolerate any other fellow on the premises). One of these dogs Sunshine, stood out for many reasons, not the least she morphed from a cringing, frightened animal too scared to move (she would urinate and defecate where she stood and shake in fear) to a dog that oozed love and happiness from every pore. It didn't take long for her to "unwind". Our person is one of those that for some reason, animals even the most frightened, instinctively and immediately become calm and trustful with.

It was after her second breakfast with us, that she came and stuck her head in our seated person's chest and just stood there for hours, not moving. After that, she was calmly walked around the garden, chatted to encouragingly while she did her first shit and piss in the proper place for these things, and that was that. The awful terror had left her, and she was happy to continue relieving herself in the right place. There's nearly nothing that can't be achieved with a frightened animal with unconditional patience and calm, sympathetic common sense. Love ain't enough, you have to use your head too.

She stayed with us for many months, sleeping in our beds, standing up at the kitchen counter while her meals were being prepared with her silly greyhound smile and Schnüffel Nase (Sniffer nose in English I guess) busy at work. Sniff Sniff, tall as anything, when gently reminded she was uh, a little in the way,  she'd give a little excited, placating greyhound push with her nose, while her tail wagged like a hippo's. What can you do? We worked around her. 

Mind you, she had her moments, she became a little excited with one our cats, Thomas, who, sank his teeth into our person's hand, which swelled up to the size of a grapefruit. As an encore, she swallowed our favourite fish. After everything we did for her, how's that for fuckin' gratitude.

The time came when Sunshine went on to her new home. If we could have kept her, we would have. She's the foster we loved dearly. Anyway, we bought her her own backpack and filled it with everything she loved. Big meaty bones, cheese, dates, vanilla cake (yeah I know I know, but if you could have seen how much she doted on it)  her favourite blanket, home baked dog biscuits, her own brush set,  a list of things that made her happy and our phone number and address with the following words: "We love this dog very much. If you find she is not the dog for you for any reason at all, please bring her back or ask us to come and get her. It's no problem"

Well, why didn't we keep her? Illness had set in (Mono which was just the start of a whole raft of nastier things to come) it just didn't stop, in the end, it was job enough to keep our own tribe of animals cared for. Also, Sunshine was becoming a little competitive with our own grey, under normal circumstances, this is something easily dealt with, but as I said, Mono and then worse, and it got worse before it got a lot worse.

We really miss the mad parade. It was the funnest thing, I think, if you're going to foster, go the whole hog, waking up to an assortment of animal misfits and outcasts all waiting for you to make their lives happy is very engaging. We didn't want anything back from them, we just wanted to see them develop a sense of self worth and confidence to take on the world. We saw them as independent "people" who needed a place to get their shit together, they weren't child substitutes, ego props, or sad orphans for us, just non human people who needed a to refuge from the world for a time before they continued on their way. We loved them all so much.

PS: I don't want to romanticise this too much, the unpleasant fact is, if you're going to take on the very ill, the most frightened , the most emotionally "shut down" you need to be prepared to clean up a lot of shit and piss, you need to spend a lot of "quiet time" with just you and them and you have to be prepared to do alot of round the clock nursing, that can include preparing extra made to order meals as well. 

You have to be able to understand how to prioritise and be willing to put their needs first and keep a quiet house. But this doesn't happen all the time, it's only for those that are extremely ill and frightened. Most won't need this much attention.

Life is only meaningful if you can ease the suffering of others, everything, and I mean everything else, is just details: worthless egotistical junk.



I just finished watching this movie. The robberies by the heroin addicts are more honest and easier to stomach than the institutionalised, state sanctioned, socially condoned robberies,  such as the deliberate manipulation and inflation of real estate prices to exploit and profit from the human need for shelter.

In the final scene, the central protagonist lists the ways in which he intends to conform to society, he at once becomes loathesome for  pursuing a life he knows to be empty and exploitative and at the same time he is pitiful, because finally, his rebellion is exhausted. There are no other options available to him: Conform or self destruct. He "chooses life" but he well knows the life he is choosing is morally and intellectually sterile. His rebellion is over. He surrenders. He is ready to become a social neuter, just another unthinking cynical  cunt without a conscience.

Groucho Marx once said something like: "I refuse to belong to any club that will have me as a member" (I'm certain that's a paraphrase, but the meaning is preserved) Wise words.


You Should Know By Now...

...I don't give a fuck what anyone thinks of me. One benefit of having an illness at a young age that will sooner or later kill you, is that depending on your psychological state, it can liberate you from all the stupid, pointless conventions that chain our thoughts and feelings.

I really used to keep my mouth shut and take anything and everything that was dished out me. I rarely spoke a word to anyone. I didn't care what happened to me, or how people treated me. I just kept my mouth shut and tried to become as inconspicuous as possible, now I just piss it right back. Why not? time is of the essence, why should I put up with anything I don't like? I can't think of any reason at all.

Not that I'm garrulous now with everyone, but in terms of the consequences of expressing my thoughts or feelings, I no longer give a shit. You don't like 'em? Fuck off. Simple.

So, here's what I think about Animal Welfare. I've been called an extremist by many a "livestock" farmer (how can a living sentient being be considered as "stock"? the term disgusts me), greyhound "trainer", abattoir owner, researchers using animals, dressage riders, horse racing industry people and all scum of the earth of that nature. How I hate them. Filthy exploiting pieces of shit.

I remember one "debate" I had with someone who was defending the use of greyhounds in racing. He called me an "extremist" (always the last resort of of the intellectually bankrupt) I replied, "Oh, I'm the extremist? I'm not the one the killing these poor dogs by the hundreds of thousands every year, I'm not the one forcing them onto tracks where they can have their legs severed (oh it happens) I'd actually consider that pretty extreme behaviour"

1. Dressage should be banned. Horses are designed by nature for running, trotting, standing. Not fucking prancing, high jumping, their backs are simply not designed for this. As far as I'm concerned, every prancing piece of crap sitting on a horse should be shot without mercy, just as the thousands of horses that break legs and spirits each year in service of this egotistical garbage are put down or passed on to knackers without a second thought. If it's good enough for the horse, it's good enough for the piece of the crap sitting on it.

2. Horses in police work. Horses are a prey animal, that means instinctively, they are programmed for flight and nervousness, it's this nerviness that keeps them constantly alert for predators and gives them a chance to escape. You see the same kinds of behaviour in deer, zebras, mice and other prey animals. Putting an animal like this in confronting, often violent situations is just pure psychological torture..

3. Animals raised for fur and meat. Insane cruelty. Especially in this age of  good old capitalist economic "rationalism" that's lead to the nightmare of factory farms. Well, what to feed our obligate carnivores (cats) and omnivores (dogs) that we keep as friends around the house?  Here's one solution: When people pop off, cut the tumorous bits out of  'em, grind 'em up and put em into cat and dog food cans. I see nothing disgusting about this. I'd be honoured to be put back in the food chain. It's more dignified than mouldering away in the dark dank and claustrophobic soil. I'd rather be put back in the mammalian food chain than be nibbled to bits by fucking earthworms for fucks sake. Where's the dignity in that??

 4. Dairy. I used to think that Dairying was a benign form of farming. It ain't. Not in these days of mass conglomerate economically "rationalized" farms.  It's nasty and cruel. I no longer consume any dairy.

5. There's a lot of griping about Asian treatment of animals. One thing to remember, is that the West, especially the English speaking West, is the consummate propagandist. It knows how to hide the ugly truth. Have you ever read about what happens to animals in Western military research and development? Ever really taken a look at footage at what happens to animals in Western cosmetic, medical, food technology and legal recreational drug (tobacco and alcohol) research clinics? Ever wondered what goes on in Western abattoirs? Over the next few days I'm going to post links so you can take a look for yourself.

Like it or not, Northern Europe has some of the most progressive laws in defence of animals. And, like it or not, under the NAZIS, laws regarding the welfare of animals were both strengthened (greatly) and enforced.  Sadly, there are stories of German soldiers shooting dogs belonging to Jews. There is garbage everywhere, although, as a friend of mine here who has lived some time in Germany said, "You know, come to think of it, I never saw an abused animal in Germany". Of course it happens, but in terms of scale and comparison, we Krauts take care of our animals.

6. Horse racing. Yeaeahh, those poor animals enjoy getting the shit flogged out them as they (like greyhounds) are literally running for their lives on the track. What this actually means is, if they have no success rate, they're dead.

7. Horses: In Australia, in that barbaric Frankenstein nation established upon the rivers of blood of the original custodians of the land, they have a thing called "Jumps Racing" it's distressing and nearly every :"race" ends up with the death of at least one horse. This is a country with notoriously poor animal welfare laws, and by the way, has one of the highest rates of domestic violence and child abuse.

I could go on. And on. Sadly.

Is there an ethical metre by which to gauge the proper treatment of animals? Well, for me, there's a few guides:

1. Consent. This is my guide for human and non human animals. If I don't have consent voluntarily given by the other party, I'm going to presume that I have no right to do intrude upon their person in any way. 

 Is it possible to know whether an animal consents to something? Yes, it is, if the animal is in psychological or physical pain, if the animal is frightened, wary, kept in unnatural conditions not conducive to it's mental or physical well being, you can be pretty certain, you don't have it's consent for what you are doing to it.

If you need to overlook consent for the animal's own individual welfare, (taking it for medical treatment etc in spite of it's own misgivings for example) then that's simply what has to be done.

2. Pantheism God is in Everything, Everything is God. I'll post a blog about this explaining another day. Pantheism in the West has strong roots in German mysticism which began with the Medieval Rhineland mystics. It was Jakob Böhme (a fascinating genius and a religio/philosophical hero to me) who in the 17th C (1600s) understood the Cosmos as "Alles in Allem" (Everything in Everything) His religious philosophy was beyond incredible. I'll tell you his story next time.

There's so much more I want to add about the status of Animal Rights Groups considered "extremist". I'm going to say something now which I think will make me even more enemies, well, y'all pretty much know how I'm going to respond to that...

After the September 11 plane hijackings in America, which killed I think just over 2,500 people? I dunno, the figure keeps getting quietly revised downwards, many Western nations took the opportunity to revise and tighten up their so called :"anti terror laws". These, under the guise on 'non discrimmination', were stretched to cover nearly every group considered 'extremist'. In England, especially, though not exclusively, this included tightening the screws on animal welfare activist groups. In other words, the freedom to protest cruelty toward animals and act in defence of them was even more restricted. Popular Power: 0 Government Power: 1.

All this, because a few thousand Americans are killed in retaliation for the hundreds of thousands of Palestinian men, women and children exploited, dispossessed, corralled into refugee camps and killed every year by Israelis who perpetuate this holocaust by weaponry that says: "Made in America".

I remember how people moaned and groaned about "oh, how the world has changed post September 11" Well, let me conclude by saying this: 

If the world ever had cause to change, it's because of the ongoing oppression of and violence against millions of  voiceless and defenceless animals and people, not the murder of a few thousand of the privileged. 

1. Battery hen
2. Dead Palestinians
3. Battery hens
4. Palestinian refugee camp.


I'm the world's worst salesman, I know... I'm doing my best...

Well, it's back to greyhounds. Apart from the welfare issues associated with these amazing dogs, they simply fascinate me in a way no other breed does, except for maybe the spitz breeds. I'm going to enlighten you about the history of these truly astonishing dogs, if you become as enraptured by them as much as I am, well and good;  if not, I've enjoyed writing about a subject I could bang on about all day.

I'm going to try to be much more concise and tight than my last post which was really sloppy and awful. I was ill again. I still feel drained, but not so bad. Ok, Let's go:

1. The greyhound type dog is the world's oldest purpose bred dog. There's nothing extraordinary about this: they are after all a hound ie: a hunting dog. Early Mankind lived by hunting and gathering. Crop raising came later and reshaped human society in profound ways.

2. The hound group of dogs is very different to other types of more "down home" dogs. If you get a hound, don't think you're getting a garden variety dog. All breeds have their differences, but hounds are exeptionally different (and exeptionally fascinating) in striking ways

3. The first remains of Greyhound type dogs, found in Catal-Hayuk (now south-west Turkey) date to 6000 BC. Greyhounds walked the earth in the times before monotheism was conceived of. Think about that. These are dogs who profoundly share our history and struggles in a way no designer poochie poo can ever claim to. It's awesome.(Remember, we are talking just over 8000 years of shared history, it's fucking mind blowing)

4. A funerary vase dating from 4000 BC decorated with greyhounds has been found in what is now Iran. Craftsmanship was not the mass produced crap of today, it took extraordinary talent, patience and hours of practice. If your image made it onto pottery, you were something special. This is how greyhounds used to be regarded.

5. Ancient Egypt, like cats, greyhounds were practically worshipped. Tutankhamen, Amenhotep II, Thutmose III and Queen Hatsheput kept greys. Cleopatra loved them too.

6. They are the ONLY breed of dog mentioned in the bible: The citation is: Proverbs 30: 29-31:
"There be three things which go well, yea,
Which are comely in going:
A lion, which is the strongest among beasts
and turneth not away from any;
A greyhound;
A he goat also."

Considering the ancient Israelites didn't particularly think much of dogs, this is something quite incredible.

7. Ancient Greece: When the Greeks first met greyhounds in Egypt, being the highly intelligent people they were, they knew a good thing when they saw it, they brought these precious dogs back with them. Alexander the Great had a Greyhound, he called him Peritas.

7A. Greyhounds are the first dog mentioned in literature: The grey's name was Argus, he was the faithful dog of Odysseus in Homer's The Odyssey. It's a fantastic story, worthy of this stunning dog's debut in  literature.

7B. Greek Mythology: Hecate, Goddess of wealth, Pollux, protector of The Hunt and Artemis all had greyhounds.

8. Rome; The Romans, who were a practical people (they invented concrete) pretty much appropriated anything of cultural value from the Greeks, so of course, the greyhound made his debut in Roman hearts and minds as well. Their Gods and Goddesses had greyhounds, best known of these were Diana and Procris.

9. Medieval and Renaissance Ages: Clergymen saved the greyhound from near extinction during these times punctuated by regular outbreaks of plague. As the Church was closely related to Monarchy, the love of greyhounds filtered through to Royalty of this period. Only Royalty could own a greyhound. In 1016, King Canute passed a law prohibiting any "meane person" (meane denoting "low born") from having a greyhound.
In the early 10th century (900s) the Welsh King Howell decreed that killing a greyhound attracted the same punishment as killing a man, that is: death. (where oh where is King Howell when we need him now?)

9A. Greyhounds were the first dog written about in the English language: it was Chaucer in the late 14thc (late 1300s) who wrote in "The Canterbury Tales" : 

"Greyhounds he hadde as swift as fowels in flight"

Shakespeare, getting in on the act wrote in Henry V (a great play by the way) :

"I see you stand like Greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot"

An exceptionally sweet medieval adage is: "A greyhound should be headed like a snake, footed like a drake, sided like a bream, and shyned like beam!" (adorable!)

There was in mid 13 centry (ca 1250) legend of a greyhound saint Guinefort. This canonization of a greyhound by "the people" was suppressed by the church who saw it as dangerous "superstition". You can easily find the story anywhere. I have an essay on the subject I might reproduce in another post if I can find it.

9B: Art of the Renaissance: In terms of all the arts, especially visual, it's perfectly legitimate to posit that Western Man reached his highest achievement in the Medieval to Rococo ages.. The people of this time knew the value of beauty and emotion. So of course, the greyhound pops up in the paintings and sculpture of this period. Eg: the artists Veronese, Pisanello and Ucello, but you'll find many more.

Something quite beautiful to notice is that the greyhound as depicted in art of thousands to the hundreds of years ago, changes very little. What you see today when you look at a grey, is what your ancestors of many many centuries ago saw and loved.

10. England: the greyhound is tinkered around a bit in it's breeding to no ill purpose, you would be surprised to find out how many breeds have greyhound in them.

11. America: Believe me, I'm not America bashing, there is much I love about America, especially it's minority cultures, but facts are facts, it's in this land that Greyhounds become the abused slaves of the racing track. This evil and revolting development began ca 1900 and spread like a cancer to other lands. I'm not going to elaborate here, but I am going to show in pictures (yes they are beyond distressing) what has happened and is happening to this amazing dog that shared so much of our history and lives with us.

Couple of other Sweet Things about Greyhounds: Many will stand up and "hug" you, my grey does this, she makes these odd little "oomph" noises as though she trying as hard as she can to express happiness. She'll stand on her hind legs and "hug" me for as long as I'll let her. If I kneel down for her, she'll wrap her arms around me all day if I let her. It's especially sweet as she was so depressed, lifeless and deeply withdrawn when she first came to live with us.

Many greys are known for "grinning" they'll actually smile at you showing their teeth. It's so sweet, not all do it, mine only half does it. It's the cutest goofiest thing.

Greyhounds are famous for "leaning" on people. They just lean on you, it's a friendly gesture from an inherently warm, loving dog, signifying trust.





Warning: the following imgages are distressing. I'm so sorry, I wish this wasn't happening, but it is. It's just as cruel and culpable to pretend it isn't. But I don't blame anyone for not wanting to look, I really don't.


                      PLEASE HELP US


I've Often Thought That....

....If greyhounds ruled the world, it would an unbelievably nice place. 

I'm going to make my case before you and try to convince you of the veracity of this rather "large" statement. Here goes:

1. What qualifies me to make such a large claim?

Well, I've lived with fostered and taken care of all kinds of dogs, from muttleys, to chihuahuas (maybe not exactly loved chis, but liked them well enough), German Shepherds, basenjis, and of course greys.

Anyway, the point I'm trying to impress upon you, is that, I'm no novice when it comes to dogs.

Of All the Dogs in All the Universe that I've ever met, I adore Greyhounds the most. Why?

1. Temperament: they are perfect. Lazy, Low maintenance, extremely gentle, highly intelligent, affable.  Their most outstanding quality? they have an incredibly smart but goofy sense of humour. These are dogs that will try it on you, (food, space on the bed, couch, attention etc) with a cheezy expression. They know that you know they're trying it on, they just find it amusing to try their luck, they have no hard feelings if you (rather heartlessly, it's almost impossible to say no to these goofy dogs) deny them anything.The are extremely well behaved around the house. They could easily live in a small apartment without being obtrusive, of course, they must have access to the Great Outdoors.

2. Practicalities: They are a healthy breed, not much goes wrong with greys, (eg: no hip displaysia sadly not uncommon in large breeds)  They don't shed much. Don't need tons of food for a big dog. They don't drool. They don't bark much. They have excellent manners in public. They don't want to bothered with long walks. They are just bone lazy. They are rarely aggressive with other dogs. They are simply not aggressive period. However, because of their size, they are good deterrents to would be arseholes.

My first grey was a show greyhound or "English type Greyhound". These dogs are HUGE. they are a little different to most greys that you see. Anyway, once when I was living in a rather, well, rough is one word for it, neighbourhood, a car full of guys pulled up, I heard one of them say "get her get her get her" two of them got out of the car, took one look at my dog and said "No way, I'm not touchin' her man, she's got a greyhound" as the car drove off and I saw it had no number plates. Were it not for my dog, I don't think I'd be alive today.

Speaking of cars, greys, being quiet, sensible dogs, travel well in them. I  take mine everywhere, as well as to the beach with my friends who love her. Because she is such a big dog, no one comes near us. We feel so...intimidating. Rocks our egos. Man.

Greys come in every colour known to Dogdom. Get one that suits your complexion. We have a thing for white dogs. But our first was a black/brown/orange brindle, my God she was beautiful.

Greyhounds are good for the ego

Let's face it, nothing screams "look at me everyone, I'm cool!" better than walking a big motha fucka of a dog. Especially if said MF dog has immaculate manners (as greys do). People will often stop to talk, and they'll think you're rather wonderful for having an ex racer. Unfortunately, you'll also hear some harrowing stories told to you by people who have cause to understand what greyhound racing is actually like.

By the way, I never allow people to touch my dog without permission, I simply say she would prefer not to be handled by strangers. I don't give a fuck how uptight this makes me seem. Dogs have every right not to have their personal space invaded. They're sensitive sentient beings, not fucking "touch me bears".

They have an amazing, and I mean amazing provenance. These really are the aristocrats of the dog world:

1. They are the world's oldest purpose bred dog.

2. They are the only dog mentioned in the bible.

3. There is actually a greyhound saint.

4. Back in the good old days before individualism, before every piece of shit thought he was God, only royalty could own greyhounds. (Admittedly, this was to expedite observance of poaching laws on His Lordship's grounds in feudal times)

5. They are one of the largest family of dog breeds

Let me clear up some misconceptions: 

1. They need a lot of exercise. They don't. Like all hunting animals, (cats for example) greyhounds are built for speed, not endurance. An easy walk, a sniff around the garden, and kaboom she just wants her couch thanks very much.

2. They are inherently obsessed with chasing small animals. Not really, I have photos of my first grey  with my two siams snugged up against her belly while she was stretched out on the couch. Most ex racer adoption agencies will test their potential adoptees with cats and other small fry to ensure the pup goes to a suitable home.

So what's the go with Greyhounds Ruling the World? How come they'd be so good at it?

1. They aren't interested in asserting their egos.

2. They are extremely affable

3. They understand the important things in life: food, couch, respectful company

4. They aren't interested in politicking.

5. They have an excellent, highly intelligent sense of humour.

6. They aren't overbearing or nasty.

7. They are quite simply nice people. That's all.

They Can't Be that perfect, there's got to be a snag somewhere!

1. Well here goes: this is the one thing that might be a deal breaker: they're hounds, they're hunting dogs, they don't understand "fetching". Get yer own fuckin' ball. Boo hoo


If you're a loud, aggressive, hysterical shit, if you're prone to violent outbursts, if you're unstable or cold in temperament, don't get one of these sensitive loving pups. Get a rock. It won't mind how much you scream and kick it. Greyhounds, like all highly intelligent, sensitive, good hearted souls, are easily broken. These are dogs for good natured, calm and respectful people only.

The whole purpose of this post is to convince you to consider making your next dog a greyhound

These gentle, sweet, good hearted dogs suffer horribly. Any animal suffering is an unbearable thing to think of. To me, its worse for an animal that won't defend himself. It's unbearably sad to think about what these dogs go through. If more people make room on their couches for greys: 

1. They will become more widely understood as the perfect friends they are, and not seen as disposable running machines.

2. Just walking your grey will raise awareness of their plight. People rarely see them, they will stop and ask questions. It's your chance to put in a good word for these gentle animals.

Do you know what I hear the most when I walk my grey?

Person: "Oh, is that a greyhound?, do you race her, did she ever win anything?"

Me: "No, it's not my thing, I got her through an adoption agency, she's retired"

Person: "Oh, she's one of the lucky ones, most of them end up with a bullet in their brain if they're lucky or get given to research labs once I heard of a trainer who just...."

Me: "thanks, I get the picture"

I've frequently had the above dialogue with perfect strangers. Re read it, and then take a look at the picture up top.

I know this is a rather long post. Thanks to those who persevered to the end. I'm going to provide the references to biblical citation, the greyhound saint and a few other things I stated there. It's very fascinating.

Cheers and Love from

Me, and Woof from my beloved grey x


I love you so much it makes me sick...uh huh...

This is a picture of my friend Medusa, it was only a few posts ago that I told her in comments on this blog: "the more I know you, the more I think you're one of the coolest people here". And she is.

Sadly for her Mama, this beautiful girl has died. Life is a never ending story of loss. It's a cycle of loss, grief, conciliation of sorts to loss, and so it goes on. Death is as much a part of life as birth, sex, hunger and survival.

Not long ago, we lost our beloved young cat Thomas, also another young cat who was like the God of all Cats to us, and just very recently, 2 family members who were more like angels than people. The pain of losing our young cats was as nightmarish and unbearable as losing the human members of our family. Loss is the worst pain of all. Nothing hurts as much.

This is what Medusa's Mama has to go through now. I wish I could ease it for her somehow. I suppose all I can do, all any of us can do is and let her know that we feel as though we too, have lost a family member. I feel so relieved I can talk to her, when I see her on the timeline, it feels as though somehow things are going to be ok. I'm so glad she's here where I and everyone else can make sure she's as ok as she can possibly be under the circumstances.

This is all true of Medusa the physical, beloved cat. As for the cyber Medusa? She's as alive to me as she ever was, and thank God for that. There were nights when I literally couldn't get my breath from laughing, I remember one night, I was pretty drunk, and I dunno, was it her or the piss but she had me laughing so hard my sides ached, I sat there hand to mouth willing her shut the fuck up so I could get my breath back but wanting her to keep it up cos it was just so fucking funny. Oh Lord, I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my life. How many people do you know who can make you feel like that?

I admit on any given day, I don't really have a sense of "fun", kiddie humour bores and embarrasses me, as does fake sentimental mush. I think it's one of the reasons I consider Medusa in many ways a "female me". She said this herself just before I wrote this.We have that in common, although, she's MUCH more tolerant and nicer than me when it comes to kiddie humour (and just about everything else come to think of it). I just think "Oh fuck off"... and you can be pretty certain, if you make me the butt of your kiddie humour, it's the last thing you'll ever be able to say to me before I sever ties.

 So I guess, as much as I feel for her Mama, and I do, because I know only too well how it feels, as does anyone who's lost a member of their family they loved, I also feel that for me, Medusa is still here, she's gone nowhere, and thank God for that, I don't want to lose the babe who knew what to do with _I_

PS: the title of this post comes from my favourite Nirvana song, "Aneurysm"


Company, villainous company hath been the spoil of me...

The above line is from Shakespeare's Henry V, it's uttered by Falstaff. The play is brilliant. I remember at school it was drummed into us that Shakespeare was intended to be seen and not read. I dunno, I find reading him much more rewarding, nothing hammed up on stage can beat my imagination.

Anyway, the point of all this is, is that I have company this weekend, (not the casual drop by sort gone in a few hours but the o/s staying a few days kind).

I'm trying to think of a Shakespeare quote to conclude, but I can't, all I seem to be able to think of is: "Age shall not weary her, nor custom stale" and that other creepy one "A dog in office is obeyed"

When I get back, I'm going to tell you all about my new hobby. I've never spent so many happy hours in all my life.

Things are going to get more hectic these next few weeks, "it's moving day Major West" (don't even worry about where that's from, it isn't edifying in the slightest)

Ok, I'm being summoned,




Declawing: Actual Experience

 Hello, a few days ago I received this email from someone on twitter I've known for some time and liked for as long as I've known them.

I was hoping to receive some kind of feedback re declawing that would explain things from another perspective. Other perspectives only broaden our understanding and enable us to more intelligently understand how complex things actually are.

I'm very grateful that the author of this email gave me permission to publish parts of it here. He/She is a lovely, intelligent, articulate and caring person. I know that regular readers of this blog are intelligent, reasonable people, and that any comments they care to make regarding this email will reflect that.

Cheers and Love

Sir Fudge Esq

PS: Dear XXX thank you x

Dear Sir Fudge Esq,
Hi, this is the mom of XXX from Twitter.  I think you remember him? I was browsing thru your blog and read your post about declawing cats.  I agree that it is inhumane and it's a horrific procedure.  I got XXX declawed because I was at my wit's end, really!  He is a very good natured, sweet boy, but, man, he would go crazy with the clawing.  I felt I had no choice, it was that or give him away, and I surely didn't want to do that.  Reading what you said, though, sure put things in a different perspective for me.  You're right, a couch is just a piece of furniture, who cares anyway?  I guess I should have just bought some covers for the furniture and let it be.  Wish you would have written that a year or so ago, ha! But you know what else he would do? He'd jump on top of any piece of furniture and hang from the artwork on the walls!  I know, it's still just another piece of "furniture" but I was concerned that he'd fall and come crashing down and get hurt.  Of course, he can no longer do that because he doesn't have claws to grip over the edge.  I must say though, that he has not seemed the least bit bothered by his "mutilation".  Please don't say I'm just seeing what I want to believe, I don't think that is the case.  He really is fine, he is very happy and healthy.  I was so torn about his declawing, and I still feel awful about it.  He's the first cat we've ever had that's been declawed.  All our other cats have never scratched in the house, so it was never an issue before.  Anyway, after all this, I just want to say you're right, and I would never do it again.  I should probably load up on those furniture covers!


P.S.  XXX definitely DOES NOT send you *hugs* *purrs* *cuddlepile* *nosetaps* or ANYTHING OF THE SORT!

Proof that some people have an asshole where their head is supposed to be

Hello all, I hope you are all well, I'm quite well, I have no complaints so I can at least spare you groan groan drivel. On this blog, you may have noticed, I've often taken great pains to share my ignorance with you. I don't doubt that this is often extremely tough on your levels of tolerance. I tip my hat to your patience.

Ok, this evening, I thought I would return the favour and share some of your own ignorance with you. I don't do this in the spirit of meanness, but merely as a cathartic rant on my part. I do so enjoy it, as you well know.

Especially through this blog, I've come to be very impressed with the levels of intelligence amongst my friends. On the timeline however, I've found myself cringing with embarrassment or seething with irritation at some of the arrant nonsense I've had to endure.

 I thought I would compile for your reading pleasure (if not your edification) some of the most fucking ludicrous claptrap I've ever heard here and I'll furnish you with the responses I desperately wanted to make, only I was A: too polite B: too gobsmacked by the sheer insanity C: otherwise occupied with something more intellectual, (like producing a shit for example) We begin (in no particular order of vapidity):

Halfwit Claim A: Russia is a communist country, therefore it is atheistic.

Response: I barely knew what to say. This claim was made with supreme and bizarrely misplaced confidence late last year, Communism (in some ways unfortunately) collapsed in the 1989-1990 (last century for fuck's sake) I simply don't know what to say. I'm not often stumped for words, but this time, I am. This tweep, who claims to have a university education, can A: barely spell, B: barely reason logically C: barely function as a sentient being. And now they come quacking with this bizarre bullshit? And people say I'm stupid...Jesus Christ...

Halfwit Claim B: Education brings peace!

Response: This is almost too deeply stupid to bother with, but here goes: Uh, dude, the people who invented the atom bombs that the Americans dropped on the Japanese were highly educated. It's difficult to believe I know, but the people in the White house who regularly make war against defenceless nations are all highly educated. Maybe not terribly intelligent, but nonetheless highly educated.

May I point out some obvious considerations that seem to be missing from your rather naive assertion?

1. What exactly do you mean by education? What kind of education do you claim prevents people from becoming warlike?

2. I wonder how, in this age of instant electronic media, has it escaped your notice that the most highly educated countries are involved in the invasion, oppression and exploitation of the poorest, least educated nations. How for fuck's sake? I'd love you to explain this to me in concise, clear, logical and sequential terms. I'd be ever so grateful to have the reeling disgust in my mind at your bizarre, baseless and naive assertions cleared up. I cannot help but think, that for all your intellectual pretensions, you have the mentality of an 8 year old.

Halfwit Claim C: I have a degree in etc etc etc....

I don't mind what people claim on the timeline, it's all bullshit anyway. But this assertion often makes me wonder what kind of universities these tweeps claim to have attended, because I can tell you, if I came quacking the kind of bad spelling, bad grammar, absolute lack of any kind of general knowledge that these people show me time and time again, I'd have been kicked out on my arse from any university I've ever been to. What kind of fucking degrees do these people claim to possess? Ones dispensed from a toilet roll? I've not graduated yet, and I find their bullshit of an incredibly low standard. Dear God...

Halfwit Claim D: Because I (Sir Fudge Esq) don't engage in boo hoo voodoo shit for brains paw circles and swear, I'm an evil cunt who does nothing for anipals. (oh I've heard this frequently)

Response: Funnily enough, the tweep who clams to be the Pawcircler extraordinaire, is the one who used to whine to me on DM about playing undertaker to weirdos, he also used to whine about the weirdos and kooks who begged him to give them messages from "over the rainbow bridge" Ah well, I'll leave this one to the people that care about this bullshit. I found the whole thing a great big fucking yawn.

Halfwit Claim E: I (Sir Fudge Esq) "hide" my nice side. (oh groan fucking groan)

Response: I've actually heard this from a few tweeps who funnily enough, I'd spent a lot of time listening to and empathising with, I was sincerely interested in what they had to tell me and I cared about them. But once not very bright people get an idea in their heads, or someone tells them something, sheep like, they don't let a few facts get in the way. Anyway, I dumped them. I was hurt by this bullshit especially after I'd shown them nothing but kindness. Fuck off and bye bye, selfish cunts, may you find new friends who will hide their real feelings behind respectable masks of convention and never show you anything genuine.

This was a post I'd written some time ago, but didn't publish it to my blog. I probably thought it was too nasty or something, but I re read it again and thought, "Ah what the hell,  facts are facts"

PS: the bizarre Russian commo claim tweep, the pseudo intellectual, the Paw Circler Extraordinaire and the "you're a mean piece of shit Sir Fudge" boo hoo brigaders are long gone from my timeline. This has resulted in a lot less seething on my part.

Cheers, Stay Sane it's a relative thing so don't worry too much if you doubt your mental stability most days, there's always bound to be someone around more unhinged than you are. A few hours in the cyber psych ward will convince you of that quick smart.



Apologies for not getting back to you

Hello,  I've not been on so much lately, I'm ill again, it's nothing alarming, only irritating, my head feels like it's pulped with a crow bar. Hoist by my own petard indeed (if you've seen my current twitter av you'll get what I mean by this)

To the people who left me dms, timeline messages, I'll try to get back to you soon. To the person who dmd asking how to be removed from Twitterwall, here is how you do it: send a tweet to @Votewall asking them to take you off. Sometimes they're fast, sometimes it takes a while for them to get around to it.

See you all as soon as the head permits.

Auf Wiedersehen kiddies. x