Archive for the ‘Animals’ Category

What more can be said?  We are here, the city has gone insane, I am excited, and I don’t even give a crap about sports.  But this is different.  I have never seen anything like it, and I am loving the crackle of energy in the air.  It is infectious.


Cold? What cold?

Cold? What cold?

We are going to kick John McCain's ass again!

We are going to kick John McCain's ass again!


The cherry on the cake?  Springsteen is playing at halftime, and Obama is a Steelers fan.

What more can anyone ask for?

‘Tis a mighty foine day, lads and lassies.  Mighty Foine.

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Arriving just in time for dinner.  




Could someone hit the lights, please?  It's late.

Could someone hit the lights, please? It's late.


One would not think it was possible to transport two cats and a crow across country, but I have to say, The Bob behaved better than most peoples human children.  How many crows can say they stayed in seven motels and drove through ten states in the dead heat of Summer?

Although, every once in a while he would stick his beak out of his carrier and poke Tomas in the leg. Not being bad, just reminding us that he was down on the floor and getting bored.

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So far, it is a perfect New Years Eve day. It is snowing, the indoor animals are curled up by the radiators, the outdoor wildlife are burning through food faster than I can put it out, and tomorrow we are driving an hour up the state to eat a slow roasted pork with sauerkraut (for luck) meal. Yum.

The outdoor group will just have to consider themselves lucky that they get such a fabulous buffet of food everyday since we moved here. Seriously, we spend more at the feed store than at the grocery store.  

This is just a Happy New Year everybody – it is the beginning of a whole new administration, out with eight years of an administration that has almost destroyed us, but hey, we’re still standing.  

Cause for much celebration.

Bobby is barking at his brothers outside, who are gliding around in the swirling snow, making a racket over the dog food and peanuts scattered out for them.

Tonight the deer will come for their nightly corn mix, and Tomas and I will celebrate by watching the last episodes of “Dexter”.

What better way to usher in the New Year?

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For the handful of folks out there who read this blog, I am assuming you might be animal lovers.  You probably have figured out that we are animal lovers.  For those of you who also follow my other blog ‘What Happened?!‘, you are aware that I intensely dislike Alaska Governor Sarah Palin, and the many heinous laws she has passed, in particular, the aerial wolf hunting law.  I was going to post a video of what the aerial hunting looks like on this blog, but it is so disturbing, I could not bring myself to do it.  I just privately e-mailed it to everyone I knew.

However, there is a petition I would like to post here – in the midst of all the Palin comings and goings, this petition is getting overlooked, and it is going straight to Palin, protesting the legality of aerial wolf hunting.  

If you have a moment, and have a heart, please take just a few minutes to sign the petition.  No money, just your signature.  You do not have to be from Alaska, either. Go to:

Care2 petition site

Thank you very much.

Kelly Mahan Jaramillo

Posted In Memory of Colleen May Mahan 

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It is a cold, rainy day here, it is supposed to snow tomorrow, and I am feeling sad and low.  It is not the weather, I love this weather.  It is probably the news from the comment section of the last post, and it has left me with a more in-my-face awareness of death than is usually hanging about.


Without denying the sadness, or running from it, I am looking at pictures of life, the life all around me, and try to reconcile the enjoyment of life with the fact that it is impermanent.  


I have a secret weapon – Kayla the Wonder Dog.  My friend Carol Johnson’s dog, who is possibly the greatest dog known to mankind.  I got to spend almost a year at Carol’s house in the Hollywood Hills almost every day, doing work there, and part of this fabulous job was to walk and brush Kayla.  It was so much fun, really, that I should have been paying Carol, not the other way around.  

So, I pull up pictures of Kayla when I feel low, and it helps get the ball rolling to sit with my own crew and enjoy them while they are here, and not cry now for something that has not yet happened.


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Bobby has been being quite vocal lately, and a few mornings ago I woke up to find that the house was surrounded by crows in trees, on all sides, hundreds of them.  I peeked out the kitchen window down into the yard and there were about fifty of them eating the bird and squirrel food on the ground.  The minute they sensed movement, they took off.

 So….we thought our wild animal budget would be a little lighter with the raccoons going into semi hibernation, but no – – we have to find cheap dog food and put it somewhere away from seeds and nuts so that everyone can get a bite.  It is practically a full time job – they are eating faster than I can get the food out.

When each feeding spot has been stocked, I sit down to relax, only to have Bobby yelling at ME!  Yes, I forgot to check his food bowl.


Oh the guilt.


I feel waves of half imagined, half real guilt-trips washing over me.

In the fall it was Buddy the raccoon, staring in the kitchen, off the back door balcony tree.  Now it is the crows.  

I have a life, I keep muttering to myself.  I have a life.  


“No, mother, you don’t. You are here to serve all of us.  Please try to “get” that, as you humans are so fond of saying”.

Thank you, Bobby.  It is always good to know ones place in the world.



What's for dinner tonight?

What's for dinner?


We WILL Be Back.......

We WILL Be Back.......



Have a Happy, Healthy and Safe Thanksgiving, everyone.  

The Bird, the Dad, and the Mom are off to get ready to see the relatives and eat ourselves silly.

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This is a quiz I like to send to my couple of close friends.







Go ahead and laugh, Bob, the next post will be the picture of you in the snow.

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Tomas and I recently moved to Pennsylvania, along with the family, Bobby the Crow, and Vinnie and Vito the cats.  Back in Los Angeles, we lost our other two cats, Fritty and Monkey, and in Ojai our rabbit, Billy “the Bullet” Mahan, died.  So our family is a little light, and we miss our other three every day.  Fritty and Monkey died within two weeks of each other.

So, in making our trek across the country, our hearts were heavy only for our animals, and we were a bit nutty when it came to making sure that Bobby and the brothers were safe and comfortable on the trip – at the expense of our own comfort at times.  Totally worth it.

The reason I give backstory is because we were heading into unknown territory – we had an idea of where we wanted to live, but in the meantime we were camped out with friends and family quite far from our destination.  We finally found our house, and it took a bit of  time to get settled. We left Ojai, California at the end of June, 2008, and got somewhat put together in our house in September of ’08. Once we were, the issue of registering to vote was NUMBER ONE on our list.

Here is where it gets weird.  In September, we both filled out the voter registration form, and trotted off to the local post office and mailed it.  One week later, an official envelope arrived with not one, but two voter I.D.’s in it.  However, they were both for Tomas.   Nothing for me.

We called the Downtown Voter Registration office, and they said I was nowhere to be found. I resigned myself to the fact that we were going to have to drive downtown (it’s a five minute drive, a forty-five minute loop-de-loop to find parking), and fill out another registration form right there at the Voter Registration Office.  Tomas also brought along his TWO voter I.D.’s asking if it was normal to receive two.  They said no, and took one back.  They then looked me up in the computer, and said I was there, even turning the computer screen so I could see.  I WAS in the computer, ummmm, twice.

They promised me there was no problem, and I should be receiving my voter registration I.D. in a matter of days.  This was Friday, October 3rd.  I have as yet to receive my Voter I.D.  I called on Monday, Oct 13th and spoke to a very nice woman named D. She looked me up, and again, I was nowhere to be found.  I shared the details of what had transpired on October 3rd, and very nicely voiced my confusion and rising concern.  She gave a very loud sigh, started to speak, then said, 

“Never mind, never mind, let’s just see what we can do…,”

“No, wait, you were going to say something,” I answered quickly. “What was it?  It will be our secret, promise.”  I tried to keep my voice light, but it felt as if she were on the verge of telling me something, and I wanted to know.

“Oh who cares, I work here,” she said, annoyance in her tone.  Her voice then dropped almost to a whisper.

“I do not know what is going on – we are registering people, and when we send it to the Federal database, they are kicking a whole bunch back with no explanation.  It is weird, and I am getting tired of it.  Here, I am going to put you in right now to receive your Voter I.D,” I could hear here furiously typing away, “oops, nope, they wont let me, I just have to process you again, I am so sorry.”

“That’s okay,” I answered, “Let’s just do it again, no problem.”

We went through my information, and she said I should be receiving my card that week.  It is now Saturday, October 18th, and no Voter I.D. card has arrived in the mail.


(I just came from Helen Philpot’s blog, where she is saying that at 83 years old, she is tired and does not have the energy to fight anymore (I am paraphrasing), and she is urging us “younger folks” to fight.  Well, I have to say, I am 46 years old, and this shit is wearing me out, but I refuse to let it wear me down).   

Back to being on the phone with D.  

I asked her what should I do if it does not arrive within the week.  She told me to call again or come down.  I am going into the building on Monday, and if I am in the computer, I am going to request a printout.  If I do not get my card, at least I will have the printout.  

The printout will not be enough to get me into the polls, but if I do not have my Voter I.D. by November 4th, I am taking every shred of evidence that I have to prove I am eligible to vote, and if I am turned away, I am going to raise holy hell, and will most likely spend the night in jail.

I do not mind spending the night in jail if it brings voter tampering in Pennsylvania some media attention.  I will make damned sure it gets media attention.  I have a big mouth, an Irish temper, and I will go to every newspaper, every blogging site, the headquarters of both parties campaign, and I will not shut up until my vote is counted.


To everyone out there – I am prepared to fight for my vote, and make sure you fight for yours, too.  Do not let voter intimidation scare you, do not let voter tampering stop you.  Press through the corruption and get your vote in, even if it means spending the night on a smelly cot.


I am ready to do it, and I hope anyone else out there is ready, too.

Bobby just cawed loudly, showing his support.  He is ready to spend a night without his parents if that is what it takes.


Obama/Biden  ’08



If anyone reading this post questions it, go to this article in the Washington Post.

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I finally have to scream it, I cannot take it any longer.  The ceremonial “Puck Toss” in Philadelphia two nights ago was the final capper.  No matter how loud the band played the music, the boo-ing was a roar over it as Palin came out, smiling and waving.

She is an adult, and an adult can handle someone boo-ing at them.  However, she was with two of her children, her daughters Willow, 13 years old, and Piper, 7 years old.

Now maybe the 13 year old can handle it, but a 7 year old?  Sarah Palin is going into a city that is solidly Democrat, and it is Philly,  for crying out loud!  To quote USA today, in 1968 at a football game,  “Philly, the reporter said, “This is the city that boo-d and threw snowballs at Santa Claus”.

Maybe the 13-year old could handle it, pre-teen’s are getting pretty brittle these days, but the 7 year old?  To put a 7 year old in that position, where she is still young enough to adore her mother, is beyond abominable.  It is heartless, ruthless, and it is not good mothering.

And to add insult to injury, it is not mothering at all when the whole event was pre-planned.  At a fundraiser before the event, Palin told the crowd she was going to put her 7-year old in a Philadelphia Flyers Tee-shirt, to stop some of the booing.  That is not motherly, that is a political ploy.  Using your 7 year old to further your own political ambitions. 

Sarah Palin, expert on both foreign and domestic issues, obviously does not know a Philadelphia crowd.

My disgust with her “mothering” started at the Vice Presidential debate, where, as we all know, when it was over, the poor little 5 month old baby was dragged out and passed around.  What is that baby doing up at 11 p.m.?   Especially a baby with special needs? A little baby, being passed around as if it were some unique little toy for everybody to grab.

Another video showing Sarah and Todd Palin getting off a plane, Sarah in front, striding towards a small group to shake hands, with Todd trailing behind her, holding the baby, who looks like a limp little rag.  The baby does not look like he is sleeping, he looks like he has passed out. There is not blanket over him, he is just hanging in his fathers one arm as Todd makes his way down the stairs behind Sarah, with the ever-sullen Bristol lagging behind.

That poor baby is going to die if he is dragged around as a prop much longer.  

Someone could accuse me of having no idea what I am talking about, as I have never given birth.  Well, I was a step mother twice, and I knew when bedtime for a 3 and a 5 year old was, and I knew that if my husband at the time and I wanted to catch a ten o’clock movie, we hired a babysitter.

Tomas and I have animals, and they need a schedule.  Bobby the Crow has a big cage on the balcony outside (given to us by our wonderful landlord), and when it starts to become dusk, he is brought inside. I would never leave him outside in the dark, hearing the raccoons and the deer rustle around, even though he is up very high and in a very safe cage.  It does not matter, if he were left outside, he would be afraid!

The cats have a sleep schedule, and we do our best to make sure they are mellow and comfortable and in their respective sleep spots when they are ready.  Basic responsibilities to creatures that we are considered the parents of.  

The parent of a human child, a woman who extolls her virtues as a “hockey mom” is using her children as political props, doing lord knows how much emotional damage.

Back to the “Puck Toss” debacle, when her trick of using her 7 year old as a human shield did not work in Philadelphia, she snarled afterwards, ” How dare they boo Piper!”

What planet is this woman living on?

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You know, the bird and I were discussing the many different kinds of “moms” out there.  There are “working” moms, “stay-at-home” moms, and the combination of the two, the “soccer moms”.

Then there are the animal moms, I do not know what they call us.  Weirdo tree-hugging lefty commie american hating elitist bastards, I think.  Something like that.  It has to become an acronym soon because I know it is pretty long.  Even the acronym would be long.

But after watching last nights V.P. debate, and marveling at the seemingly deft, yet utterly obvious manner in which Governor Palin dodged questions, never giving a straight answer but going back to what she really wants to talk about, well, gave me no choice but to come up with a new kind of mom.

The Dodge Ball Mom.

And I bet a lot of us out there have them.

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