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Strushie the Cat – Why It Matters July 31, 2017

Posted by voolavex in despicable, freedom, Pets, Social Issues.
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On April 26, 2017 –  Strushie the cat – a fixture at the Franklin Hotel in South Beach, Miami, Florida was killed intentionally by an employee.  There is not term for this crime. I suspect the reason is because under various circumstance animals can be killed for reasons  for which we arrest humans who kill humans.   It is however a felony. I would say generally if an annoying animal makes their home on your property and you object – calling animal control would seem the best choice.   Strushie and his several alleycat mates had been living in the Florida sunshine and being fed on the premises for years.  Strushie often sat in the lobby and was welcomed by staff and tourists alike.He was well liked and gentle.

The Franklin – touted as one of Miami’s South Beach landmarks of the Art Deco period was recently sold.  The cats went along in the deal.  The people still fed them and smiled at them and liked them.  Just an added perk to this small, boutique hotel with security ; cameras and lights and location in a sweet South Beach spot. I wonder how business is under the new ownership?

I wonder more though, why Strushie was singled out; and he was.  An aggressive employee decided – perhaps on his own – or perhaps at the behest of the new owners that Strushie was annoying.  I have heard conflicting reports.  But on or about April 26, 2017 Strushie was stalked by determined  man armed with small crossbow, who cornered him and shot two arrows through his head. The injuries did not kill Strushie who ran away and was discovered, rushed to vet and died despite valiant efforts to save his life. He was shot with malice aforethought with a very lethal weapon at close-range then hidden in a room  the killer appeared to occupy in the Franklin.  Did I mention his name?  Georgios Lollias –  one of the Franklin’s valued staff.

The crime was covered up with denials from the Franklin’s owner and excuses that the cameras were down that day and no one saw anything.   Strushie, ironically,  got the Kitty Genovese treatment.  But animal lovers are a very devoted lot.  Very devoted.  And one such person started a Care2.org  petition to get justice for Strushie online And she did.  Pressure from the public, animal groups, outraged citizens and foreigners made such a hue and cry (and in these days of social media – hueing and crying has become a daily devotion) that investigators from local law enforcement and the City of Miami  began to seek the monster who committed this crime.  And the U.S.Secret Service entered the fray because it wanted to retrieve the data from the cameras not working that day.  The crime had been captured in full color and in graphic detail.  An arrest followed.  A hearing date is being set in August.  Two months from the killing Strushie the Cat Day in Miami was officially declared in Miami on July 26, 2017.

WHY DOES THIS MATTER? Because we are learning and observing the basest side of the Mr. or Mrs. Average American citizen – what they can do  and even better, it becomes  a guide to  show how them they can do it.  I suspect Strushies occur every single day in this country alone.  And with the Internet, the Fount of all Knowledge (and free to all) you have all the secrets  Including animal cruelty.  Or how to build a bomb or sarin gas and of course how to make cute stuff with bleach bottles. Google it.  Strushie was not hit by a car or disease ridden.  He was part of a community that valued him enough to let him live his life unfettered.  Why does this matter?  Because we are all entitled to live without fear of monsters and hit men and danger and the chance to enrich our own communities.  Yet if the killing of a defenseless and harmless cat is done so easily and then covered up – the next kill or injustice or atrocity just becomes easier and  more justifiable.  This is a lesson.   This is why we should not have to fight to enjoy or cringe for any reason, color, faith, age or fur.  It creates a domino effect.  We are seeing now.  

 We are all Strushies. We matter.  I think this is something we all MUST remember.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Senior? Elder? AARP? Me? June 4, 2017

Posted by voolavex in common sense, marriage, Random thoughts, Social Issues.
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I grew up in the Baby Boomer years that began in 1945/46, I went through the usual “phases” that parents like to excuse or accuse their children of entering and leaving.  I never lived anywhere long enough to actually develop phases that are memorable now.  Food oddities that came and went and too many schools and angst and I suspect it was basically just getting to being “of age” and then it simply moved forward from there.  Once I achieved “of age”, I didn’t give it much thought until recently.  Now I realize that I never got the directions on how to be “a certain age” nor the final pamphlet that covered “age”.  I am neither crochety nor am I enfeebled.  My hair is a good combination of white and mostly dark brown, I am tall and still at a fine weight for my frame.  No tweaks,  no shots, no lifts – living in the heart of Hollywood can put a smart and still looking good person in morbid fear of the “better face”.  It is not better and here you see the sad results of just why it’s not really great idea. I do have crepey skin.  Lack of exercise, DNA or too many parties of yore.  Leggings, tights and long sleeves  are all useful for this condition.  I suspect I am getting a bit of arthritis – and it runs in both sides of family and I waited for years to join the clan.  A few twinges but nothing that makes me groan or complain.  When asked about my age I am usually thrilled with the reaction, as much as I  am startled myself when I think about it.  I have two adult children and several important friends.

I was raised as a little kid by the “aunts” and my grandmother.  When I sat down recently and realized how old they were when I was born,  these role models may have brought me to where I am right now.  These were old ladies.  Two widows and a “maiden” aunt.  And their embrace of being elderly was  epic.  Steel gray hair, blue rinsed hair and touched up hair.  Housedresses – the real deal.   Corsets.  Salmony pink lace-up, hook- up and lift-up boned custom made corsets.  And yes I knew how to lace them from any early age.  Huge undies, garters, hair nets – from the dime store to contain their always permed hair.  Always.  My grandmother was the youngest of the three and she was a tad more casual but it was not a visible tad for me. Two of them wore a little lipstick and a bit of rouge – but only on occasions.  One never did.  Stocking – one wore lisle and the other two wore daytime deniers (January was when they bought them) and each one had a secret place to hide their break luck money.  The most memorable was the”budge” neatly folded bills tucked  between ample bosoms and the bank, a garter pouch of fine suede where the real money was carried.  The other two had change purses or wallets.  And they all lived to old age – two past 95.

I realized early on what I had no intention of becoming.  I might have become many things but an old lady was not one of them.  So as I sit and realize that I do in fact qualify for that term, I have no idea what I am supposed to be.  Not a clue.  I curse like a sailor, pass comment on everyone and everything, speak my mind (that can be excruciating too) and still want to know more and more about more and more.

I am vain.  I improve the landscape with cosmetics and despair of my difficult hair – but I hate to go to the hairdresser.   I wear what I have always worn – and it still keeps me au courant  style no matter what the courant of the moment is. I cannot wear stilettos. It breaks my heart. And because I am not a French woman I fail at scarves.  I must have 100+.  Lots of good jewelry I seldom wear – but no bling.  Shoes and bags need to be leather, fabric has to be grown fiber and I realize it hasn’t ever been otherwise.

So here I am, entering a phase; dazed and annoyed at things like AARP. Especially AARP.  I hate AARP.  I hate their condescending advice and presumptuous codified ads that scream “YOU ARE OLD”.  We have a wildly unruly source of information now called the Internet – so I do know how to find glasses and Depends and ear trumpets and  canes and I’ve fallen buttons. I also have a full-time husband. I hate senior communities.  I hate oldster casino trips.  Dances for the Decrepit. (or Senior Mixers as they call them or did). I do like Bingo – but not enough to seek it out.

I suspect because I have no grandchildren I can still buy myself toys and play alone.  I can frolic as others have babies and grand babies and buy memorable gifts and get photos in return.  Is it the life I imagined for myself?  The one where I didn’t get old and feeble.  Not really, but since I have no idea how to prepare for it (just as I didn’t know how to prepare for marriage, pregnancy, toothaches or nearsightedness).  I suspect I will figure it out.  But not today.

 

 

Adopt A Pet At Your Own Risk October 18, 2007

Posted by voolavex in adoptions, Pets, Uncategorized.
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Ellen’s recent travails notwithstanding – the pet adoption racket is about to qualify for the RICO predicates.  Try to find a kitten or puppy at one of the local adoption fairs and meet some of the most obsessed folks (usually women) on the planet – especially in my neck of the woods – Los Angeles.  Rescue is the operative word here and it conjures up abandoned baby animals with no hope for the future.  The gas chamber awaits unless you rescue one and take it home .  If only it were that altruistic.  These groups all seem to have 501(c) status making them non-profits – like the Red Cross – which means they can collect as much as the market will bear for these animals they rescue from the clutches of death somewhere.  The cost generally ranges from $50 on up and it is always in the form of a “donation”.  Ladies, you have been watching too many televangelists.  One little kitten I saw was $1500 because of a laundry list of things they had paid to have done and, oh yes, he was a purebred.  Okay – for the money they wanted, I could have bought a contender.  The adoption papers lack everything but a judge’s signature and the filing number but they list so many do’s and don’t’s you’d think you were acquiring a newborn human. Kevin Federline has less restrictions on his two kids. Home visits, no open doors, no other pets, the food they want you to buy, surprise visits, no kids and the list goes on while the price goes up.  Get a grip ladies.  And pet lovers who want to find a kitten or puppy – go to the pound and pay their legitimate adoption fee and while you’re at it mention a no kill policy.   Or ask your vet – they always have a litter or two up for adoption.  And if all else fails – try the local Kwik-E-Mart in spring – it’s baby animal season.  I got one of sweetest kittens there.  Free.  Wow.