I think these will sell well……….

It occurs to me that my one man rant against the tobacco prohibitionists (and let’s be real here, that’s just what they are) may get me into hot water some day. People who speak up for freedom usually do end that way. And make no mistake: this isn’t just about my right to smoke a pipe or cigar. It’s about a group of fanatics who have hijacked a legitimate health concern and turned it into a way to expand Nanny Government. The anti-tobacco movement has become nothing more than a group of disingenuous fanatics whose real goal is nothing short of the total prohibition of tobacco. Their moral standing is now no higher than that of the cigarette companies. Anyone who doubts this should click here, here, and ESPECIALLY here.

So it’s only a matter of time until they come after me. I honestly believe that at some time a little old fashioned civil disobedience is going to be needed here. So when the time comes, I thought it might be helpful to have a few items to sell so I can raise money to make bail. Or rather, so that my friends can raise money for me, since I’ll be in jail.

So I thought a t-shirt would be a nice touch. Revolutionaries look cool on a t-shirt. So scroll down and let me know what you think of mine. I think it will be a collector’s item one day.











Keep going!














Saying Goodbye To “Buddy”…A Loving Tribute In Tears!

As I look at the above picture of Ma’Boy Buddy, I am reminded of how happy we all were, how he loved my mother and me and how joyously he viewed life.

Buddy was always an indoor cat. He never knew what it was to be cold, wet, hungry or chased by a dog. His world was one of giving and receiving love, of being adored by all who knew or met him and most especially to my dear, sweet Momma.

My mother came to live me with in Dallas in her late sixties, so she could be close to her children, grandchildren, and soon thereafter, her great-grandchildren. She was almost seventy years of age when I brought Buddy home and into our lives. She met us at the front door and she and Buddy both had broad, beaming smiles when they first saw each other. She had never experienced the simple joy of a kitten, as she grew up on a farm and the cats there served a useful purpose, not as pets. With Buddy, she was constantly amused with his playfulness, as it appealed to her playfulness, as well.

Buddy had been with us for a few days and his magnificent personality began to show, after the initial shyness, and it was clear he was something very special. His inner beauty exceeded his physical beauty.

We were having difficulty deciding what his formal name should be and would try a different name for a day, to see if it would stick. None did. While relaxing in the living room one evening, I was playing with Buddy using his “feather on a tether” toy, which he loved. As he was developing into a marvelous athlete he would often leap as high as seven feet, catch the feather in his teeth, while performing a somersault and landing perfectly. He is still the finest athlete I have ever seen, with hind legs so powerful I couldn’t restrain him if I wanted to.

My mother was watching us and she got very serious and asked me if she could name him. Before I could answer she explained that she had never named a pet, that her siblings always named their pets and then her children after them and that she had always wanted to name a pet. I said absolutely she could, that I had no objection at all and asked if she had a name in mind. She said…Buddy. Buddy was the nick name of her only brother who died before she was born and that she had always wanted to name a pet in his honor. I then said, Buddy it is! I think it’s the perfect name for him and a fitting tribute to the brother she never knew. While we were having this discussion, our new Buddy was watching us still wanting to play and when I asked him what he thought of the name, he joyfully leaped over and started chewing on my toes, in a playful manner. I took that as a yes.

It was only a few days later, as I was in the living room, I heard a ruckus in the hallway and stepped into the doorway to see what was going on. There was my seventy year old mother, running full speed down the hall with a little fur-ball named Buddy bouncing joyfully behind her, batting her heels with his tiny paws, while she was laughing her wonderful joyful laugh.
My mother finally got to play with a young boy named Buddy.

My dear, sweet Momma left us almost four years ago.
Losing her has been hard on me, as we were very close, and I loved her dearly.
Buddy has been dying a little each day since she left and never returned. He couldn’t understand, only that his world was now absent the loving kisses, words and head scratchings he got all day long. Within five months of her passing, his health broke and he has been slipping away ever since.

And now, the veil of darkness is encroaching faster.

The magnificent athlete, the joyful playfulness, they are only a memory now, like the photograph.

Buddy couldn’t even jump on the bed this past Sunday morning.

He tried twice, a leap he made without effort just a week ago, and he gave up. He lied on the floor looking at me, his once bold, strong Siamese voice a mere squeak. I reached down and rubbed his head and noticed he was out of breath from the effort.
I sat up and watched him slowly walk away, teetering slightly and then I began to cry. I know his time with me is now very short and the memories of our years together hit me like a flood.
The way he would run when we were playing, throwing his head back, galloping and bouncing, front legs to back, with a joy that made me laugh. It was pure, simple, it was an example of how we should all live.
I love him dearly for who he is, for what he has taught me and for the love he gave and received from my mother and me.

Buddy still eats a lot and drinks water, so his will to live isn’t lost and I know he isn’t suffering. However, he is getting so weak that he has become incontinent at times, as his legs are too weak to perch on the litter box, so he misses some times and soils himself.

Buddy was so fastidious about his grooming, one of his nick names was “Mr. Clean.” Now, when he soils himself he is clearly disgusted and won’t even try to groom himself. So, several times in the past few days, I have laid him in my lap and with Wet Wipes and a warm wash cloth, I have bathed and brushed him. He’s too weak to resist, even if he wanted, but he does appreciate my grooming him and lets me know.

Until the day comes when he is either suffering or his beautiful heart stops beating, I will take care of him and do whatever it takes to keep him happy.
I’m saying Goodbye to Buddy each day now. Thanking him and loving him.

He’s Ma’boy, the son I never had and the brother my dear, sweet Momma never knew.

Letter From Your Pet In Heaven

To my dearest family,
Some things I’d like to say.
But first of all, to let you know,
That I arrived okay.

I’m writing this from the Bridge.
Here I dwell with God above.
Here there’s no more tears of sadness.
Here is just eternal love.

Please do not be unhappy
Just because I’m out of sight.
Remember that I am with you
every morning, noon and night.

That day I had to leave you
When my life on earth was through,
God picked me up and hugged me
And He said, “I welcome you.

It’s good to have you back again,
You were missed while you were gone.
As for your dearest family,
They’ll be here later on.”

God gave me a list of things,
That he wished for me to do.
And foremost on the list,
Was to watch and care for you.

And when you lie in bed at night
The day’s chores put to flight,
God and I are closest to you…
In the middle of the night.

When you think of my life on earth,
And all those loving years,
Because you are only human,
They are bound to bring you tears.

But do not be afraid to cry:
It does relieve the pain.
Remember there would be no flowers,
Unless there was some rain.

I wish that I could tell you
All that God has planned.
If I were to tell you,
You wouldn’t understand.

But one thing is for certain,
Though my life on earth is o’er.
I’m closer to you now,
Than I ever was before.

There are rocky roads ahead of you
And many hills to climb;
But together we can do it
By taking one day at a time.

It was always my philosophy
And I’d like it for you too;
That as you give unto the world,
The world will give to you.

If you can help somebody
Who’s in sorrow and pain,
Then you can say to God at night…
“My day was not in vain.”

And now I am contented…
That my life was worthwhile.
Knowing as I passed along
I made somebody smile.

God says: “If you meet somebody
Who is sad and feeling low;
Just lend a hand to pick him up,
As on your way you go.

When you’re walking down the street
With me on your mind;
I’m walking in your footsteps
only half a step behind.

And when it’s time for you to go…
from that body to be free.
Remember you’re not going…
you’re coming here to me.”

Der Komödiant – Autorenblog – Schreiben um des Schreibens willen

schreibend • meinend • kauzig • kritisch • Aus Berlin. Kurzgeschichten, Erlebnisse, mal getreu der Geschehnisse, mal völlig der Phantasie entsprungen. Schreibend um des Schreibens willen vom Schreiberling zum Autor.


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