When political activists engage in discussions with sympathetic non-activists, we often encounter the idea that all the work of protesting injustice, educating the public, and agitating for change is futile in the face of the monolithic weight of social inertia and elite power structures. Indeed, despite being armed with a knowledge of the history of how political activism has shaped the world and brought about progressive changes, we can still find that, when we beats our fists against the imposing wall of power time and time again and our fingers stand bleeding at that effort while not a single damn brick has been dislodged, it can be discouraging to say the least.

Here’s a comment that I ran across today on a post from the excellent Kasama Project:

It is interesting and appropriate, G, that you bring up the Milgram experiments (“The Perils of Obedience” I think, is the title of the paper he wrote about them). Overall, Milgram’s studies found that a huge percentage of the population (at that time)–as he summed it up, it didn’t matter what social strata or country the people came from–would go along, playing their obedient role in helping to electro-shock a stranger beyond the point of rendering them unconscious, even when that victim complained aloud that they had a heart problem, so long as the subject was told clearly by a team of lab coat technicians that 1) the Experiment required that the test-shocking go on, and 2) that the subject (who was asked to press a button, giving the victim a shock each time he or she gives a wrong answer… or no answer at all) will NOT be held responsible for the effects of the experiment; the scientists take “full responsibility.” Something like 90% go all the way to not only torturing, but potentially killing the shocked-subject. Shocking indeed.

Nonetheless, one remarkable finding of Milgram’s studies–he ran the experiment many many times, playing with different variables along the way–has always represented a certain basis for hope. Namely: the fact that when the study was staged so that one of the three lab coat technicians (all played by actors of course) rebelled, verbally protesting and then refusing to continue with the lab experiment, ALL OF THE TEST SUBJECTS (the shock-button pushers) ALSO REFUSED AND STOPPED. EVERY SINGLE TIME.

I have always thought of this as a kind of allegory for how the rebellious actions of a minority or even a single person–particularly someone that occupies some position of authority within a particular community–can utterly transform a situation, opening up the possibility of others’ real freedom. That is, we might say that it is the psychic space created by the rebellion amongst the so-called “experts” that enables the “subjects” to act upon their own impulses, which were already present, but were suppressed in service to a up-till-now unified and seemingly monolithic authority.

I take comfort from this in the knowledge that even if it sometimes seems like activists are talking to the air, speaking out about injustice and speaking up for the voiceless and oppressed is never futile. Every voice is like a little light that opens up just a little more space in the darkness allowing some other soul to find his match and light his own candle to join the growing chorus of lights. Eventually, there comes a point where there is sufficient brightness for everyone to locate their own light source if they have one, and then, this flood of lights will banish the darkness to the tiny cracks and crevices.

In the last few weeks, I’ve discovered a love for the world of tea, and tea is steadily replacing my former consumption of coffee throughout the day.

It all started when my wife and I attended her company’s Holiday Party where they celebrated the season with a game of Secret Santa. My wife received from one of her colleagues a 16 oz. Teavana Perfect Tea Maker which is a rather handy and simple device for steeping loose leaf tea.

We had always enjoyed a cup of hot tea now and then, but other than when visiting P.F. Chang’s and enjoying the Dragon’s Oolang tea there, we had pretty much only had tea steeped via tea bags – and I must confess I always found the tea bags themselves rather annoying. I had come to really enjoy the Dragon’s Oolang at P.F. Chang’s and so I was immediately interested in trying out Melinda’s new tea maker. Indeed, my enthusiasm for her gift seemed to rival her own! :)

I went online and visited the Teavana website to see what kind of loose leaf teas they offered and then became very eager to try some of them out. I was delighted to find that Teavana had several stores in greater Atlanta – as a matter of fact, the first Teavana store was at Lenox Mall in Buckhead. One quick trip to a Teavana store, and I had some tasty teas to try out with the new tea maker: Earl Grey, Earl Grey White, and My Morning Mate (an awesome combination of yerba mate, roobios, yunnan tea and spices).

I’ve been very pleased with the Perfect Tea Maker and also with my chosen teas. Indeed, I’ve pretty much switched from drinking several cups of coffee during the day to a double cup of coffee in the morning if I’m having breakfast with Melinda and then cups of Earl Grey or My Morning Mate during the rest of the day with an occasional cup of Earl Grey White. I’m looking forward to get some green tea varieties and trying out other white teas.

We’ve looked around and found that there are definitely places where we can find loose leaf tea for better prices, but the Perfect Tea Maker that Teavana sells is wonderful and is fairly inexpensive at $17.99.

During the holidays, we’ve enjoyed many a wonderful cup of hot tea, and I’ve enjoyed reading about the fascinating history and varieties of tea although my poor wife is a little frustrated as I am often repeating facts and stories to her that she has already heard about via a colleague of hers who also recently discovered the world of tea.

And now I think it’s time for me to go make a cup of roobios!

Peppermint Taking a Nap

So it has been an eventful Christmas – New Year’s Holiday here at the Weathers household. Things didn’t work out how we planned, but we’re hanging in there, and the ride has ultimately turned out fun after all.

Every year, Melinda and I both take off the week of Christmas and the week of New Year’s Day. This year our vacation started after we both left work on Friday, December 19. Saturday, we enjoyed our first day of the break by taking Doobie to the dog park and then doing some last minute Christmas shopping at Fry’s Electronics store followed by some tasty gluten-free pizza at a Pepperoni’s Pizza in Duluth.

Also, on Saturday, we finally managed to get salt delivered for our house’s water filtering system. It turned out that thanks to a tripped wire, our system had not run through its cycle for several months. So in addition to filling up the salt in the tank, the tech guy set the system to run that night.

Despite being on vacation, we couldn’t quite shake the habit of getting up early for work, so Melinda and I woke up around eight on Sunday. We went downstairs, and I made us some breakfast and coffee at which point it became clear that the initial run of our water filter system after months of disuse had left the water in our pipes tasting funny. In fact, the taste was unpleasant enough that we poured out our coffees.

But Melinda definitely needs her coffee in the morning despite not really drinking the stuff much until I came along. So it fell upon me to run out for some emergency coffee orders. The plan was a quick drive to the Starbucks that sits a few intersections down from our neighborhood on Windy Hill Road. Since they have a drive-thru window, I wouldn’t even have to get dressed! Thus, garbed in a bathrobe and a simple coat, I set off on my short trip – it turned out to be shorter than either of us thought it would be.

As I came to a stop at the entrance to my subdivision, I recognized one of my neighbors Lisa standing out in the grassy median on Windy Hill. She owns a golden retriever mix named Lacy who is often at odds with Doobie when they encounter each other on walks through the neighborhood. Lisa appeared to have Lacy sitting beside her. For a confused second, I thought that it was a rather cold morning to be taking a walk and that doing so in the middle of Windy Hill wasn’t the best idea. I then realized that Lisa wasn’t holding a leash and that the dog was definitely not Lacy – in fact, it appeared to be a mostly white female pit bull.

I was instantly reminded of the awful night on October 10, 2007 when Bodie had escaped and been killed by a car on Windy Hill. I knew that I had to make sure that the same thing didn’t happen to this scared dog that my neighbor was trying to help.

Nerves mounting, I stepped out of the car into the cold morning air in my bathrobe and inadequate coat. I must have looked rather amusing in retrospect. Lisa had a small dog-treat and was trying to calmly lure the pit bull to within collar-grasping reach. The dog wasn’t buying it though as she was obviously scared, sitting in the median just out of reach and howling in fear.

I spoke with Lisa and she informed me that she had been coming home on Windy Hill and seen the dog out there. Knowing that it would likely get hit out there, she had come back to the road with a treat and her dog Lacy’s leash in hopes of catching the dog before it could get hurt.

At about that time, another neighbor in his car pulled up behind my car and got out to help me. I noticed that some cars were coming and the dog was looking a little jumpy. She started to walk out into the road, and I felt a rush of panic. I stepped out into the road to try to stop traffic and thankfully my neighbor joined me. Together, we stood in each of the lanes on our side of the road and directed cars safely around the scared dog as Lisa calmly lured her back to the safety of the median with the treat.

By now, a few other neighbors had come out of their houses to see what was the commotion was. Lisa asked one of them to call Animal Control, but I urged against this idea. During my experiences in helping Ramses the pit bull reunite with his owner, I had learned that our country has a policy of euthanizing pit bulls that are handed over to Animal Control after the legal five days period during which an owner can attempt to reclaim. The reason is that because of the breed’s (unjust) bad reputation, they are not considered adoptable and so they are killed to make room for other animals.

As I was sharing this information with my neighbors, I was pleased to see a Smyrna policer officer arrive on the scene. My neighbors and I had been doing a fair job at directing the limited traffic up until then, but it’s definitely more reassuring that people will stop when there’s a police car and an officer in uniform standing there. Shortly after the officer arrived, one of my neighbors managed to distract the pit long enough for Lisa to grab its collar and hook her up to the Lacy’s leash. The dog tried to bolt in fear, but we had her now and led her into the safety of our neighborhood.

The officer said that he was going to call Animal Control, but I made a quick decision and explained to him that it wasn’t necessary because if no one else could do it, my wife and I could take the dog back to our yard and try to find its rightful owners. I told him why I didn’t wish to see the dog go to Animal Control and he acknowledged that I was correct. He said that he was an animal lover as well and that if I was prepared to take the dog back to my house that he was fine with that.

So I drove back home to give Melinda the unpleasant news while Lisa graciously followed on foot with the dog. When I stepped back inside the house with a grim look on my face, I told Melinda: “I’m back without the coffee… And you’re not going to be happy.” I then told her what had happened at which point you could see the mild panic in Melinda’s eyes as she reiterated like a protective ritual chant the fact that “We are a one dog family!” I tried to reassure her that I did not intend for this dog to become dog number two, but that I could not let it be put to death for the crime of being a stray pit bull.

After a few moments of discussion, we decided that I would get to work on doing all the various things that are necessary when one finds a stray while Melinda who still very much needed her coffee (especially with the new developments) would take a shower and head out to get some coffee. I went outside to meet Lisa and the pit bull who were both now in my back yard where mercifully the gates were fully repaired and working and no sections were missing from any late night car accidents from the nearby apartment complex.

Lisa said that we could borrow the leash and that she would come by later with some treats and extra food. She then left to get home to her husband who was sitting with their baby and probably wondering what had happened to his wife. Lisa had let the pit bull off the leash to try to calm her down in the back yard and so now it fell to me to try to establish a rapport with the beast.

I got an almost full can of Pupperoni Snacks from the kitchen and then sat down on my back porch to patiently try to earn the dog’s trust. She remained very scared, but slowly approached me to gently accept the treats that I offered. Any attempt to pet her though resulted in her fleeing out of reach.

It was going to be a long morning, and it didn’t help that it was freezing outside and my dry hands were painfully exposed to it. After awhile it became clear that I wouldn’t be able to stand sitting outside with her for too long, and yet I have never fully trusted my fence since the first time Bodie escape from it with the assistance of strong gust of wind and so I didn’t want to simply leave her out there.

I went inside and erected our old dog gate that we had used when we first got Bodie to keep him confined to the kitchen during the day before we trusted that he would have no accidents in the house. This would serve to confine her to the kitchen and to keep her away from our dog Doobie. We knew from his recent contact with our friends’ two dogs and his trips to the dog park that he could be okay around dogs when properly introduced, but this pit bull was an unknown factor. While pit bulls are very people friendly, they sometimes do exhibit dog aggression as they were bred for fighting dogs and baiting bears. They are also one of the canine world’s premier athletes as was quite obvious by this dog’s toned and muscular frame. I couldn’t risk the two dogs getting into a fight so the gate was a necessity.

I then spent an hour trying to lure the dog into the kitchen. She would always readily come inside and gently accept treats, but only when I was sitting down on the floor. By the time, I could get to my feet and close the kitchen door, she would have beaten me to it and dashed to the safety of the yard. I eventually accomplished my goal by throwing treats to the far side of the kitchen and then dashing to the door while she was out of the way.

That first day was a small piece of hell. My face and hands were dried out. My hands were still aching from the cold. My dog Doobie was confined upstairs where he whined without ceasing – which is his speciality. It was a Sunday so all the vets, animal rescue organizations, and the humane society were unavailable for contact. Still, I was able to put together a plan of action for the next day and the dog was very sweet and easy to manage inside the kitchen while I tried to get some stuff accomplished on my MacBook.

Melinda returned and put together a DOG FOUND flier in Power Point and then she stayed with the dogs while I traveled around for two hours posting the fliers at every logical intersection in my extended neighborhood. This tactic had worked for Ramses and I was really hoping that it would work for this dog as well. My second hope lay in the fact that the next day I could get her scanned for chips that could identify her owner.

That afternoon, we decided to try a bold experiment as the separation created by the gate was really annoying and not something that we desired to experience for possibly several days. We took Doobie and Dog Two (as Melinda started to call her) outside for a game of frisbee in the yard. At first things looked promising. Doobie excitedly fetched his frisbee while Dog Two seemed interested and followed while hanging back a bit. Then, after a few tosses like this, Dog Two started getting up in Doobie’s face and began to try to mount him. At that point, we immediately separated the two before anything bad could start.

Thankfully, Dog Two wasn’t too difficult when it came time to go to sleep at the end of that exhausting day. Melinda and Doobie went upstairs and I stayed in the kitchen until Dog Two seemed to drift off. I then slipped over the breakfast bar of our kitchen and slinked quietly upstairs.

The next day was disappointing as we found that Dog Two did not have any chips. Also, the vet suspected that she may have been abused as she seemed very nervous about letting people touch her neck behind her head. We found out that our vet could board the dog if we got her vaccinated and so that remained an option for us we couldn’t locate the owners before our planned post-Christmas plans of driving to Florida to visit my mom. It was an option I didn’t wish to exercise though as already the very sweet Dog Two was winning her way into my heart and the thought of her in cage like that for days on end seemed awful and also counterproductive should we have to move from the locating her owners phase into the finding her a home phase.

Unfortunately, thanks again to the inaccurate bad reputation of pit bulls, most rescues will not take them because it’s not an efficient usage of the resources that they have seeing as it will be much harder to adopt out a pit bull than most other breeds. There are only two rescues in Georgia that I know to help out pit bulls: Pit Prints Rescue and the Georgia Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. Naturally, when I contacted them their fostering resources were already filled to capacity. Pit Prints however offered a ray of hope in that should it become necessary we could pay to board Dog Two with them rather than board with our vet. This was a blessing because boarding at Pit Prints would mean home boarding with lots of human interaction and chances to nurture adoptable qualities.

It was a crazy and exhausting week, and Melinda and I both savored our time spent away from the situation while we were visiting her mom and her stepfather for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Because of our reluctance to board the dog and because she was showing signs of learning to behave around our dog through brief controlled encounters in the kitchen, we decided to cancel the planned to trip to visit my mother in Florida. Fortunately, she was understanding about why we couldn’t make it. It turned out to have been a good turn of luck actually because after Christmas, Melinda and I both caught a nasty cold that has been hanging around us for the rest of the vacation. I’m glad we didn’t have to suffer through a long car trip while sneezing and coughing and feeling miserable.

On the day before Christmas, we had spent two hours posting up some improved FOUND DOG fliers. It was kind of depressing that evening when the weather forecast proved wrong and rain poured down on Smyrna trashing most but not all of our hard work.

When we returned to our house at night after spending all of Christmas Day with Melinda’s mom and her stepfather, we received a wonderful Christmas gift: I let Dog Two and Doobie outside into the backyard and they proceeded to have a grand time playing with another. Dog Two had been very sweet through all of this and really the only thing standing between us housing her for long term was her interaction with Doobie.

We decided that given this new turn of events and seeing that fostering her would involve housing her for several months that rather than take another pit bull’s chance for adoption, it would just be better to adopt her ourselves should the original owners not come forward.

Despite this decision, we still continued doing all that we could to locate her original owners as returning her to them would be best. I reposted fliers where the rain had flushed them away and made sure to leave fliers with all local vets. I also posted ads with the local newspapers and with craigslist.

I finally managed to get in touch with a person at the humane society and they took our information, but no one had contacted them all month looking for a dog matching her description. With that bit of information and given that our fliers have been up for most days since we found her, I’m guessing her owners aren’t looking for her and so she will wind up being our pet.

We named her Peppermint because we found her over the Christmas holidays, she is sweet, she keeps it cool, and she kind of reminds us of peppermint with her pretty white coat and her nice off-red collar that we purchased for her.

Doobie and Peppermint Chewing Bones Together

She’s a very sweet and docile dog who loves people instantly, warming up to new ones now that she’s no longer cautious about us. My day of patiently dosing her with treats to lure her inside the kitchen and to win her trust have paid off by creating a strong attachment to me already.

Peppermint is still pretty young. I’d say she’s full grown, but still has her puppy energy about her. She and Doobie play together pretty well, but frequently she gets a little too feisty for him and you can see he finds her a bit of a nuisance at these times. Still, with a little training she should be able to pass her Canine Good Citizen Test and be a model citizen.

She is very intelligent and picks up on things quickly. Sometimes a little too quickly. For instance, we had been keeping her in the kitchen behind the gate at night, but after a few nights like this, she figured out she could hop over the breakfast bar just like we were doing. That led to us allowing her to sleep in the bedroom with us which seems to be working out alright for now. We don’t want to allow her to roam the house free until we can be fully certain that she won’t have any accidents or chew on anything that she shouldn’t be chewing.

It wasn’t what we planned, but I think Peppermint will fit into our family nicely and she will ultimately benefit Doobie by giving him more exercise than we give him alone which will help him take off some of the extra pounds he is carrying around.

Update: (1/1/2010)

I just realized that my infrequent posts to this site these days have left this story incomplete. Alas, Peppermint didn’t fit so nicely into our family as I had hoped. She eventually grew more relaxed in our house and became far too energetic for our house and far too vigorous in her play for Doobie. As it became clear that we needed assistance, we began working with a wonderful local Pit bull rescue (Pit Prints Rescue) to see about us fostering Peppermint until a more suitable home could be found.

We worked with Pit Prints for eight months, during which time I became more and more attached to Peppermint while Melinda found herself disliking her more and more as her high energy levels racked up more and more casualties in our home (curtains, bed, etc.). We boarded Peppermint with Pit Prints Rescue during the last month of August 2009 while we were on vacation. When we returned, we were blessed to find that another family working with Pit Prints had taken over fostering Peppermint for us while we continued to support her financially. This new foster family already fostered three other Pit Bulls and seemed much better at providing for her needs. As we were already paying for her food, toys, and vet bills, it was no problem to continue to do so as this family took her into their care.

It has been a bad year for pets in need of rescue and adoption this year with the economy taking such a hit. It has been especially bad for breeds like the Pit Bull that have a bad image in the media. Peppermint is still being fostered with Pit Prints Rescue and is in need of finding a family that can adopt her and provide her with a home where an intelligent and energetic dog can get all the attention and exercise that she needs. You can read more about her here.

This weekend has been a tiring adventure!

Our story begins on Saturday morning. While my wife Melinda was practicing her violin, I sat at our dining room table happily working on an Euler problem on my MacBook Pro when a flash of movement caught my attention through our dining room window. I saw what appeared to be a dog dashing into my neighbor’s yard. It looked about the size and build of one of her dogs, but her cars were not in her driveway.

My experience with the death of my dog Bodie had me fearful for the safety of this dog, so I went outside to take a look. When I stepped out onto my driveway, I found a brownish red pit bull peering back at me from around the corner of my neighbor’s neighbor’s yard. He looked very rigid like he was considering whether he should dash towards me or dash away as fast as possible. He appeared to be wearing a black collar.

Hoping that he had a tag with some identification on him, I stepped back inside my house to grab one of our spare leashes and a dog treat. I then headed back outside and saw that the dog was gone. However, I looked down my street and saw him again just as he dashed into a neighboring cul-de-sac.

I gave chase to my four-legged quarry and upon arriving at the mouth of the cul-de-sac, I saw to my relief that the dog had not gone very far. Dashing around between two houses, he seemed to frolic in his freedom while hiking his leg every few feet. I quickly cut the distance that separated us and then cautiously approached the dog who was now staring curiously at me. I came within fifteen to twenty feet from him and then extended my hand while employing my best friendly-person-calling-a-dog voice to beckoned him near me.

With just a hint of hesitation, he timidly approached me. Once he drew near enough and sniffed my hand, I petted him gently on the head and offered him the treat. He sat for me in a docile fashion and sniffed the treat with interest. While he examined this tasty morsel, I managed to calmly grab his collar and hook my leash to it.

The dog then took the treat, sampled it and spit it out. So much for the tastiness of the treat, but I was relieved that I had the dog securely on my leash, and he seemed to trust me. I took a moment to examine his collar and found to my dismay that he had no tag.

My dog Doobie is a skittish dog and he is rather nervous around strangers and other dogs. Almost any time, he finds himself in the presence of another dog, he growls or shows other signs of aggression. For some time, we have been meaning to enroll Doobie in training to correct this behavior, but currently, he simply cannot be introduced to other dogs.

Unfortunately, that meant that I could not bring this pit bull ‘Dog’ into the house no matter how friendly he seemed to me. On top of that, my wife and I had plans to have lunch with some of our friends and the agreed upon hour of meeting was drawing nigh. After some discussion with my wife, I took ‘Dog’ for a little trip to our local vet while she left to meet our friends for lunch.

Much to my surprise, ‘Dog’ was very well-behaved on the trip. He was a perfect gentleman, sitting calmly and never whining in fear like our dog Doobie and every other dog that I’ve owned. This made the whole trip easier as my mind was already starting to worry about what I was going to do with this dog if the vet couldn’t find a chip on him.

We arrived at the vet, and ‘Dog’ bolted out of the car in full stride, his powerful muscles forcing me to strain to avoid getting knocked onto the ground. When we got inside, I made sure that ‘Dog’ did not come into contact with any of the other animals waiting in the lobby as I had no idea what his disposition towards them might be. Soon after arrival, we were taken into an examination room where ‘Dog’ proceeded to sit between my legs and let me pet him, instinctively clinging to me as his new protector. The doctor came into see us and she checked him over. Sadly, ‘Dog’ had no chip to help us identify a possible owner, but on the plus side, he seemed to be in great health and the vet’s examination revealed what appeared to be the remains of a vaccination tag, perhaps ripped off during an escape from his owner’s yard. The vet and I agreed that based upon the dog’s health, disposition, and apparently trained behavior (responding to commands such as sit, come, and off), this little guy was probably somebody’s pet and that some owner was probably out there heartbroken and trying to find ‘Dog’.

The vet gave me some numbers and URLs for local rescue groups that might be able to assist me in fostering ‘Dog’ while searching for his owner which I stressed would be a necessity thanks to the situation with Doobie at home. The vet told me that there was the possibility of boarding him there, but that it would run $175 for a medical clearance of him and then $31 a day. She also recommended that I wait at least until Monday sense she thought it likely that I could find the owner over the weekend.

I was worried that we might never find the owner, but I decided to go with the vet’s advice and hoped Melinda and I can figure out something to do with ‘Dog’ for the weekend. When I left the vet’s office, I found out how frazzled I had been over the whole experience because I realized to my horror that I had somehow locked my car and left the keys running! Thankfully, I had also left the passenger side door unlocked and so I didn’t have to call a locksmith or my wife.

When I got back home, I set about trying to call all the local vets in hopes that one of them might have a patient matching the dog’s description. Unfortunately, it was Saturday afternoon and pretty much all the vets were closed for the weekend. To make matters worse, I was growing hungry and was confined to do all my calls and internet research outside because ‘Dog’ began to freak out when left by himself in the backyard. Also, one experiment with leaving him out there unattended resulted in a scary incident, where he dug a hole under my fence and I find him galloping around in my front yard. Fortunately, he happily came back to me when I called to him. After that near disaster, I searched through my garage for Bodie’s old long leash and stake and set the stake up in the middle of my backyard so that ‘Dog’ had a lot of freedom to run and explore without the freedom to escape and give me a heart attack.

It seemed like it took forever for my wife to return. In the mean time, my research showed me that I was facing a long battle should we not locate the dog’s owner. Pit bulls have an unwarranted bad reputation and as a result are very hard to place with rescue organizations. The only organization that seemed likely to be able to help was a pit bull specific organization that sent me an auto-reply and detailed how they were currently full with long waits. Also, they advised that taking a pit bull to an animal shelter was a death sentence in Georgia which my vet had already warned me about in Cobb county. This had already never been an option for me because the chances are bad for almost any animal that winds up in a shelter. But this information strengthened my resolve that we would do whatever was necessary to keep this dog out of a shelter.

When my wife got home, I took the opportunity to reheat some left over pasta and then set about printing up some ‘DOG FOUND’ fliers. Then, while my wife stayed at home to keep an eye on ‘Dog’, I drove around the surrounding neighborhoods and taped fliers to strategic locations. My vet and animal control had all given me advise that I not share too much information in the fliers because there are people who answer these ads falsely so that they can take the dogs and use them in dog fighting rings.

By the time I returned home, my wife had spent an hour watching the dog and learned that he simply would not stop barking obnoxiously when left outside confined to our backyard. He seemed to have latched on to me as a life raft, and any time that I went away from him, he quickly descended into hysteria. This spelled the end of our vague plans to leave him outside for the evening which is just as well because I could have never slept knowing that he may have broken free from his leash to escape our fence.

We decided that we would need to board him with a vet that I had called earlier in the day that remained open until 7pm. Unfortunately, my timing was bad and the vet had already left for the day despite the clinic being open for fifteen more minutes at the time of my call. Without a vet to administer vaccinations, they could not admit ‘Dog’ for boarding. The attendant suggested I try PetsMart as they had a clinic with later hours as well as a Pet Hotel. I quickly found that it was too late for PetsMart to schedule anything as well, but they suggested I look in the yellow pages for kennels as some kennels can do vaccinations on site.

I spent thirty to forty minutes sitting outside with ‘Dog’, my laptop, and the yellow pages in the cold darkness of the early evening calling every kennel and finding the same stories: either the kennel was closed for the night or they could not take an undocumented dog into their care.

In desperation, we tried one last measure. We searched through our cluttered hall closet and dragged out Bodie’s old crate which we used for our first year with him better stopped using once we got Doobie. We parked our Honda Fit outside in the drive way and after closing the garage door, we set up the dog crate inside with a small towel and large raw hide bone. We then led dog inside, lured him into the crate with a treat, and shut him inside. After turning out the lights and shutting the door leading inside the house, we crept around on tip toes waiting for the inevitable howling, whimpering, or barking to commence.

Instead, we found to our joyful surprise that ‘Dog’ must have had experience with crates because we continued to experience nothing but blessed silence from the garage. After what had been a long and awful day, I was hungry and tired. We went out for some Mexican and made plans to “board” ourselves at a Holiday Inn Express should ‘Dog’ find his voice when we returned home. However, our fears were without warrant for ‘Dog’ was quiet throughout the night.

After a good night’s rest, I got up early the next morning and came downstairs with Doobie to take care of feeding him and letting him outside before preparing myself to once more deal with ‘Dog’. After sufficiently preparing the place by gating Doobie upstairs, I let ‘Dog’ out of the crate and was thankful to find that he had had no accidents during the night. He was very happy to see me and to be free. He still seemed nervous though and never wanted to lose sight of me. That morning we tried something different. With Doobie confined upstairs, I cautiously allowed ‘Dog’ to enter the house. Melinda had been afraid that ‘Dog’ who was constantly hiking his leg to mark territory outside would do likewise inside our house. I thought otherwise though because he showed signs of being well-trained during the trip to the vet and had never made a mess in the car or at the vet.

When I let ‘Dog’ inside and dropped his leash, he began to feverishly sniff the carpet sensing Doobie all around, but thankfully my judgement was proved correct as all he did was sniff. Eventually after several minutes of this behavior, he settled down and came to sit beside me as I worked on my laptop trying to found other organizations that might help us foster him for the long term should it be required.

Eventually, Melinda came downstairs and we had coffee together, but Doobie began to whine incessantly and it proved too much to handle. So I took ‘Dog’ for a walk around the neighborhood and then reluctantly confined him to the crate once again. This time we could hear some rather soft and pathetic howls echoing ghostlike from the garage, but we steeled ourselves against them as we prepared for round two of flier posting. We printed out some improved fliers and then Melinda, Doobie, and I took a long walk through out greater neighborhood putting up more fliers, secretly hoping to find that “LOST DOG” fliers had been magically posted during the night.

Instead, we returned well-walked, but empty handed. I was trying to keep my hopes up and focused on my plans for Monday morning where I hoped that the calls to local vets would yield some definitive clue to the dog’s owner.

In the mean time, I could not stand the idea of ‘Dog’ remaining confined to the crate, so I let him back out and then the two us made camp on my back patio. ‘Dog’ sat by my side seeking the comfort of my petting while I tried to focus on my computer to take my mind off the sobering problem of keeping this dog for any length of time in such an ill-prepared setting. Melinda sat inside on her MacBook and we kept in touch through the early afternoon via iChat.

I found it hard to concentrate on anything other than ‘Dog’. I logged onto Facebook and updated my status to reflect my predicament. I thought about how it might be nice to get out a blanket and lay on the grass with ‘Dog’ beside me and a good book to read.

I was startled out of my meditations by the ringing of my cellphone. I looked at the number and did not recognize it. Did I dare to hope!?

I answered the phone and heard a man’s voice on the other end. He was asking if I was the person who had found a male red dog. I said that I was and asked him what kind of dog he was trying to find. The man described a red male pit bull and soon we both found ourselves laughing happily that we had found each other through my fliers. The man identified the collar that ‘Dog’ had been wearing along with correctly detailing the missing tag and the fact that ‘Dog’ was not neutered. He revealed that ‘Dog’ was in fact named ‘Ramses’ and as I turned to the dog and called him ‘Ramses’, I could see a different light spark in his eyes as he recognized his name.

I turned to look at the sliding glass patio door to find my wife and Doobie on the other side. She was staring excitedly inquiring with her eyes whether we had fond the owner. I gave her a hearty thumbs up and proceeded to tell the owner how to get to our house.

After I got off the phone, I realized that the powerful wind had forcefully knocked one of the doors to my fence wide open. Despite the fact that Ramses was on a leash tied to as stake in the ground, I feared leaving the gate open. I ran over to secure the gate, but as I arrived the wind knocked it wide again before I could adjust it. At that exact moment, I witnessed Ramses flying through the gate without his collar. With no time to process how this could have happened, called out “Ramses! Here boy! Here!” and much to my relief, Ramses happily came back to me and allowed me to grab him and pick him up. I called to my wife and prayed that Ramses would stay still in my arms and not get away while I had no means of securing him.  To lose the dog now while his owner was on his way would be the ultimate in ironic injustice.

Fortunately, Melinda arrived in time and dashed off to get Bodie’s old collar. It fit Ramses well and allowed me to secure him to a leash once again. I found his old black leather collar lying in the grass ripped from the strength of Ramses’ excited dash to follow when I had run to secure the gate.

Shortly thereafter, Ramses’ master arrived and you could instantly tell that this was his ‘daddy’! Ramses nearly pulled my arm out as his ran excitedly to the man who had just stepped out of his car in my drive way. Ramses’ owner was laughing and happy to his wayward dog, but you could also see that he was holding back tears.

It seems that the man had been in Texas on Saturday for a job interview and his girlfriend had been watching his house and Ramses for him. Sometime early Saturday morning, Ramses had escaped from his backyard and Sunday morning the man had been frantically driving around looking for his dog. Thanks to the fliers that Melinda and I had posted, he was able to find us and be reunited with his boy.

It was a rough two days, but a happy ending like this made it all worth while!

Most of my small group of readers are probably aware by now that I have tendered my resignation at NewEnergy Associates, the software company that I have worked for over the last nine years. My friends and family know that for many of those years I was deeply unsatisfied with my career path and with the work that I was doing. That all changed over the last three years, and I had finally found a place at NewEnergy where I was doing things that made a difference and where I enjoyed my work.

So for once, I wasn’t looking for another job because I was satisfied with the one I had.

Naturally, that is when opportunity came knocking on my door.

A friend of my wife put me into contact with the owner of a startup that was looking to hire a Rails developer and within two weeks of our initial contact, I made the decision to leave NewEnergy and join Systino to do Rails development work.

Working for a startup company will be both exciting and challenging, but that’s just part of the fun. On top of it, I will get to do the web development work that love and get to work with my favorite programming language Ruby. Finally, Systino is an Mac company and so I will be getting a nice new MacBook on which to develop.

Needless to say I am thrilled and can’t wait to get started next week.

In the mean time, today starts my last week with NewEnergy. In some ways, it is sad. I will miss the many wonderful people that I have come to know over nearly a decade, but this opportunity was something that I would always regret not taking and I think the time was right for a change.