Sunday, July 30, 2006
Well it's the last post of the blogathon,
It's been an amazing day it really has. I got to experience first hand the wonderful workings of one of my favourite places in the whole world. I got to work hand in hand with my partner in crime and charity Kat for something we both believe in. I got to eat pizza hut twice in one day... wait, thats pretty normal for me, but still, mmmm, mushrooms.
I got to hear from and interact with a bunch of wonderful people here, and on forums, and in chat. I had the opportunity to stay awake 30 hours for a reason!
I learned a lot, I smiled a lot, and I typed way too much! I had my friends Billy and Becca come thru for me, and for the animals (they're absolutely animal nuts!) And drag their rockstar friends into the charity frey as well?!
And who would have thought 20 years ago when I was sitting in my room listening to the "Cherry Pie" sigle on casette on my silver boombox, that one day Jani Lane would be calling on behalf of my charity event?
Who knew that a bunch of insomniatic techno nerds would raise nearly $100,000 for charity just by updating their website 48 times in one day?
Who knew that 15 people I have never met would donate nearly $400 to people they don't know for a wonderful charity like Glendale Humane Society?
Bless you all, you gave so much, and made my heart swell with pride and faith that good things still happen, even in the darkest hours.
This last post I want to post a personal story or heroic dogs, one I have not shared before. A little something I can give back to all of you who have been following all along.
Please forgive any spelling, or grammer errors, I'm going to be writing this from the heart, and won't have time to go over it or spell check it.
My life has been saved twice by my dogs, once as a young child, and once as a earily teen.
When I was 7, maybe 8, living in the mountians of Upstate NY, I had a terrier mix that we found as a stray on Rte 20 while driving to Albany. Her name was Noodles, and she was a sweet ragedy looking thing, the kind of dog every kid wants. High energy, lots of affection, loyal and playful.
The first winter I had noodles, I was sledding down a hill behind my house, she would run behind me and help me tow the sled back up the hill, over and over, hour upon hour. Problem with snow is you cannot see what lies just beneath it, and while sledding I hit a rather large stone that threw me in the air, I came back down on that jagged stone right on my spine.
One quick shreik and then I was paralyzed. Lying on my back in almost 3 feet of snow, freezing, barely able to breathe. Noodles knew something was wrong and kept licking me, but all I could do is blink and strugle for breath. When I didn't get up in a few minutes Noodles started whining and barking, eventually she ran to the kitchen window of my house and scrached and barked constantly until my parents came out to see what she wanted.
It was strange behaviour for noodles, a generally quiet dog who followed me at my heels everywhere I went. When Noodles led them to the back yard they saw me in the distance, pale and paralyzed still in the snow. I felt like I couldn't even cry and all I wanted to do is scream for help, but had no breath to scream with.
It turned out the stone had bruised my spine causing a few hours of paralysis, and in time I got full use of my body back. But it was time I didn't have in the 20 degree New York winter.
That day Noodles saved my life. She downright saved my life, and I have no doubt that without her I would not be here to type this blog and help save many more Noodles's, on the street or in the shelters, just looking for a home.
4 Years later Noodles was taken from me when she was shot for sport by a drunken child abuser, we'll call him Mr. D. and I didn't find out for another year until his son whom often was the target of his violence finally releived his concience and cried the whole story out to me.
My dog saved my life, only to lose hers to a loaded scumbag with a loaded pistol when nobody was home.
Not all stories are happy. Many involve pain and recovery, but it is the miracle of dogs like noodles who have shown people such as myself that there is a reason we are here. We are here to protect, to heal, to mend the broken and soothe the wounded. We are here to save both animals and people from ourselvs.
I realize this blog is taking forever to write, so I am sorry it will not appear right at 6 AM
The second story I would like to share, is about a dog named Sasha. Sasha was a rescue, doxie-terrier mix my Grandmother, whom I had taken to living with somewhere around the time of my parents divorce, had adopted. We picked her up at my Aunt's house, who worked with local shelters and had a kennel herself she ran a rescue from. From the first day Sasha came home we bonded, instantly, like I have never bonded to a dog before, or since. She spoke Brant, and I spoke Sasha. We became literally inseperable. I trained her dozens of tricks. Would film her performing the tricks, and dub music or vocal tracks over the video. We would go for walks hour upon hour, and the thought of Sasha sleeping on the floor at night made both our backs ache.
Whenever a stranger approached, Shasha would bear her teeth and quickly chase off anyone who approached that she didn't know. Sure I know the Jahova Witnesses didn't like her much, but I found it endeering.
But years passed, I entered my teens, and dispite my life becomeing more and more complex, becoming more and more busy, I still spoke Sasha, and she still spoke Brant. Not school, not college, not touring, nothing broke that bond, and nothing kept me away longer than a week before I came home to visit my two favourite people in the world, Sasha and my Grandma.
Sure Sasha would chase off any girlfriend the moment she so much as touched my shoulder, but I forgave her because I understood her. And pretty soon I went as far as to make my friends pass the "Sasha Test"
Thats right, if she growls at you, you couldn't possiable be good, because she understood a lot more than she got credit for, she was a litmus test of charrecter.
I could not count the hours I laid on the floor watching TV at 3 am in some insomniatic bout, with sasha at my side or sneaking under me head, kicking the pillow away. I can't tell you how many times I confided in Sasha, thoughts and worries I wouldn't dare tell another soul. There were times when my life was so dismal, I didn't know how I would get thru tomorow, but as sure as the rain will fall, my worries were often bruhed away by that muzzle edging itself into my dangling palm.
I had many friends growing up, but none so loyal, none so confidable, none as close as Sasha.
The last time I saw Sasha she growled at me, the only time she had shown a shred of aggression tward me in over a decade. Blind, deaf, and in constant incurable pain, she was put down a month later, and no one had the heart to tell me. No one wanted to break the news my best friend had died.
Sasha saved my life countless times, when I thought who could stand this world of cruelty, misery, abuse, violence, apathy, greed, hatred, prejudice? When at only 13, I couldn't see the point of living out your life just to feed the monster that destroys everything in it's path.
But the answer was simple, Sasha could. For whatever reason she fought for every last breath, and every last moment with those she loved. She saw a reason to keep going and I trust her judgement now as much as I did then.
I never allowed myself time to mourn the loss of Noodles or Sasha, but I did this morning. This morning I will finally shed a few tears and say good-bye the animals who saved my life, and do my best to return the favor whenever and wherever I can.
Good bye, good night, and good work to both of you...
to all of you.
6:29 AM Sunday July 30th, 2006.
| posted by Brant at 6:33 AM
