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Created on 2011-08-15 23:31:55 (#1076147), last updated 2011-08-22 (317 weeks ago)

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Name:rdfreak
Birthdate:Apr 16
Location:Melbourne, Victoria, Australia
LJ first created 26/7/03,
(bio updated 15/07/11)
My name is Rachel; I am now 32 years (worst luck - I hate getting older. always have hated each birthday more and more but not much I can do, right?!)
I am into reading, writing, computers, cooking (I am always aiming to improve), recording on the ancient things they call "cassette tapes". I have always been into that kinda stuff. I have scores and scores of tapes of me at all ages.
I live in a lovely two-bedroom unit - couldn't ask for a better one given it's size and location. I live with my 3-year old second guide dog Joy (who is absolutely wonderful, as is my retired guide Heartly who is almost 13 and now primarily living with my parents
Heartly does have catoracts and suspected cancer in the urinary tract; but she is still happy and loves her daily walks with grandpa.
Joy is a very vibrant young thing; very enthusiastic about her work and life in general.
(Their bio)
Since I completed my secondary schooling in 1998, I have been volunteering (in the early days), studying on and off and travelling overseas. Been to the U.S once and Europe three times; yes, I love England, a lot. :)
Also went to Dubai twice to stay with my Dad while he was working over there. I love travelling and catching up with friends abroad, and it is certainly not over for me yet.
Other than all that, I'm now working at my second, (but first) fulltime job on the switchboard of a salary packaging company called Maxxia and as a result, have been blessed with making some awesome awesome friends; Life has never been better for me in that department.
I love people! I live for my friends, and I consider myself a good friend as well!
I am *not perfect, and have *never claimed to be.
I am a very honest (tell it like it is), open-minded individual, and what I do not have time for is liars, close/narrow-mindedness, arrogance and discrimination.
I will treat people exactly how they treat me, whether it be online or real life.
I have had this Livejournal for coming up to eight years now and have absolutely loved every minute of it. The way I use livejournal now has changed in a big way from previously however. Most entries up to this year are public, but this year I went mostly friends only for a number of very valid reasons.
As mentioned before, i love making new friends, and should you wish to add me, I'd prefer a comment especially if you found my journal on a community etc. I check out everyone's profile, and depending on if we have things in common, you're not here to make trouble and probably most importantly, I like the sound of you, I'll most likely add you back. Likewise, I may add journals from time to time if we have a bit in common, I like the writing style and/or content.

Til.

----------------------

A scene took place on a British Airways flight between Johannesburg and London. A white woman, about 50 years old, was seated next to a black man. Obviously
disturbed by this, she called the air hostess.

"Madam, what is the matter," the hostess asked.

"You obviously do not see it then?" she responded.

"You placed me next to a black man. I do not agree to sit next to someone from such a repugnant group. Give me an alternative seat."

"Be calm please," the hostess replied. "Almost all the places on this flight are taken. I will go to see if another place is available."

The Hostess went away and then came back a few minutes later.

"Madam, just as I thought, there are no other available seats in the economy class. I spoke to the captain and he informed me that there is also no seat
in the business class. All the same, we still have one place in the first class."

Before the woman could say anything, the hostess continued, "It is not usual for our company to permit someone from the economy class to sit in the first
class. However, given the circumstances, the captain feels that it would be scandalous to make someone sit next to someone so disgusting."

She turned to the black man and said "Therefore, Sir, if you would like to, please collect your hand luggage, a seat awaits you in first class."

At that moment, the other passengers who were shocked by what they had just witnessed stood up and applauded.
This is a true story. </p>


How Could You?
By Jim Willis 2001

When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you
laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes
and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend.
Whenever I "was bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could
you?" -- but then you'd relent, and roll me over for a belly rub.

My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were
terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights
of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret
dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went
for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I
only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs," you said), and I
took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of
the
day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and
more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently,
comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you
about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when
you fell in love. She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I
welcomed her into our home, tried
to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were
happy.

Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was
fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother
them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent
most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I
wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love."

As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and
pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes,
investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything
about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent
-- and I would have defended them with my life if need be. I would
sneak
into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and
together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.

There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you
produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me.
These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject.
I
had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every
expenditure on my behalf.

Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and
they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've
made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I
was your only family. I was excited about the car ride until we arrived
at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of
hopelessness.

You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home
for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the
realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers."

You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed
"No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him,
and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty,
about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave
me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to
take my collar and leash
with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too.

After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your
upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good
home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules
allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At
first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it
was you that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream
... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might
save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for
attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to
a far corner and waited.

I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I
padded along the aisle after her to a separate room.

A blissfully quiet room.

She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to
worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there
was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days.
As
is my nature, I was more concerned about her.

The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the
same way I knew your every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around
my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same
way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the
hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid
coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind
eyes
and murmured "How could you?"

Perhaps because she understood my dog speak, she said "I'm so sorry."
She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I
went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or
abandoned, or have to fend for myself -- a place of love and light so
very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy,
I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could
you?" was not directed at her.

It was you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of. I will think of you
and wait for you forever.

May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

The End....

A note from the author...
If "How Could You?" brought tears to your eyes as you read it, as it
did to mine as I wrote it, it is because it is the composite story of
the millions of formerly owned pets who die each year in animal shelters world wide. Anyone is welcome to distribute the essay for
a noncommercial purpose, as long as it is properly attributed with the
copyright notice. Please use it to help educate, on websites, in
newsletters, on animal shelter and vet office bulletin boards. Tell the
public that the decision to add a pet to the family is an important one
for life, that animals deserve our love and sensible care, that finding
another appropriate home for your animal is your responsibility and any
local humane society or animal welfare league can offer you good
advice,
and that all life is precious.

Please do your part to stop the killing, and encourage all spay &
neuter campaigns in order to prevent unwanted animals.

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