She Pulled Weeds for Doogie

After being informed by my parole officer (it's not often you get to say that!) that if I didn't start my community service by August 22nd, I'd be back in front of the judge, I reluctantly went to see the man who is the highest paid man in the WORLD. No shit! He spent about a 1/2 hour with me, took my basic info, and gave me two choices of places to work near me...the Bellwood-Antis Library, and St. Vincent de Paul. Since the library is closer, I chose it (after all, I DO love books), and he sent me on my way with a stack of timesheets and contact info for Hazel Bilka, head libarian. I was to call Hazel within a week and set up a schedule.

(Wouldn't you think for a rate of $3000/hr. he could at least call her himself and get me set up?)

$3000/hr? Yeah. The reason I've bulked at the community service for so long—besides the fact that I don't get why you have to do the work even when you're appealing...if you do all the 'punishment', and win on appeal, is someone going to come to your house and do 300 hours of work to make up for the time you spent doing work which turns out you didn't need to do at all?—is that I'm expected to PAY $5 per hour, $1500 total, for this man's 'services'. Now, unless I'm getting something extra that no one has told me about (oh, the mind could indeed wander), paying $1500 for 1/2 hour of this man's time makes him the highest paid man I've ever met!

He doesn't contact the workplace, he doesn't come with me to hold my hand, to my knowledge he doesn't even come by or call to make sure I'm doing the work, so what exactly am I paying him $5 per hour FOR?

Mind you, I have no intention of paying it...unless they want to cut it down to a nifty $100 or so—I'm not an unreasonable woman—but as it turns out, apparently I don't even GET to not pay it, because in their infinite wisdom and power, they've placed a lien against my home for whatever unGodly amount they've decided that I owe them. Without even telling me of course. Such is the power of the powers that be.

So yesterday, August 20, 2008 I started my community service, working 5 hours at the Bellwood-Antis Library, and then going in today for another 5 hours, just to sorta start myself off with a bang.

First I sorted all the book catalogs and threw out the old ones, For Doogie.

Next I carried books to the basement and stacked them up, For Doogie.

Then, I got to pull weeds and deadhead flowers, For Doogie.

Today, (even better!), I was lucky enough to clean bookshelves, For Doogie.

Having accomplished all these tasks, I'm now 1/30th of the way to completion of my community service hours. For comparison's sake, let's look at some recent 'punishments' of those convicted of HARMING animals, rather than helping them:

Domaneek Bradley, Baltimore MD, got 16 hours community service for starving his rottie to a weight of 42 lbs. (Heck, I'd be almost done if I'd STARVED Doogie instead of helping him.)

John Blank was convicted of 8 animal cruelty charges for 23 puppymill dogs in horrible conditions in PA. He received 2 years probation, with apparently NO community service. (I wouldn't even have had to start community service if I'd taken Doogie and 22 of his friends and put them in cages and abused them for years.)

Ashley DeCent, Nebraska, starved 2 dogs, merely paid a fine and surrendered ownership of the barely-alive dogs. (I could have left Doogie and his neighbor white dog without food and water for weeks and just paid a little fine?)

Terry Moore shot a neighbor's dog in North Carolina, and got a whopping 24 hours community service. (So I could have walked up and SHOT Doogie and only gotten 24 hours...instead of 300 for taking him to the vet's!)

Amazing.

As I sat pulling weeds, something I don't even do at my own house, I was struck by how we animal advocates are much like the poor weeds I 'got rid of'. Is there really any difference between what is deemed 'the flower' and what is deemed 'the weed'?

Who makes that decision?

Any human who goes against the ingrained social order is plucked out like a weed, ostracized, punished, and humiliated. Here in backwoods Pennsylvania, like many other locations across the country, anyone who stands against the good-old-boy network of animal abusers, wife abusers, and child abusers will be treated as scum, compared to the 'worst hardened criminals', and put soundly 'in their place'.

I really don't know how they manage it, or how any of these people sleep at night. In fact, that's something I wonder every single day of my life.

How DO those who abuse and condone abuse of anyone...animals, women, children, truly THINK they are doing the right thing, and how do they sleep at night knowing deep inside what horrible injustices they are perpetrating against society?

I hated pulling the weeds yesterday, not because it could be construed as 'menial labor', but because I was forced to take out plants who were 'different' than the rest, just doing their best in a world that was hostile to them and their goals.

I replanted a tiny maple tree into a new home in back of the library in which I hope he can take root and grow. I didn't pull out a 'weed' that was a gorgeous sole trooper for others of it's kind, with little yellow flowers, soaring above the rest. I'll leave the extermination of that little guy to someone other than myself.

To say my faith in our system is shattered would be putting it mildly. Between my two cases and seeing the abusers win time and time again I sometimes don't know how I can go on in this world.

But I will go on, I will rebuild my life, and I will conquer. There is no other way. Doogie demands it, every chained dog out there demands it, my very essence demands it. Sometimes you don't or can't see your way out of the fog, but you must feel your way out regardless.

By believing in myself and my abilities, I will grow and build anew from the ashes of my former life. By believing in DDB and what this wonderful organization does for mistreated and abused animals, I will see the day when animal abusers will be the ones behind bars, and not those who merely step up to offer a hand to a suffering soul.

Mark my words...there are already many out there who see it! Let us remove from power all those who condone animal abuse. Let us walk them to the front door, escort them out, and unceremoniously kick them to the curb.

I spoke of Doogie to a plenary session full of animal advocates Friday night, and was gifted with a standing ovation. I was so touched by the support that I sat in my chair and cried, overwhelmed with emotion and gratitude. Two different waiters where I live have paid for my meals out of their own salary, because 'they know who I am, and they know what I did for that dog'. You know these angels aren't making $3000 an hour.

My daughter told me 'I'm her hero for the animals', and two little girls in her class came up to me and thanked me for 'helping that dog.'

There are those out there who see it. Those who do not deny the suffering, those who stand with me in theory.

I need to ask you all to stand with me now in practice. Stop the abuse, stop the abusers, and build a new world where EVERY dog lives inside as part of a living home and family.

Help us build our Rehab Center, where chained dogs can come to be healed, loved, and renewed.

Most of all, learn to love yourself and those around you, even those you struggle not to hate. If only in theory. We have to stop this cycle of abuse, and hating the abusers will only draw more hatred to us and the dogs we love so much. They aren't worth it, but you are worth everything, and so are the souls we protect.

I pulled weeds for Doogie. He was worth it.