Bedlam Farm Blog Journal by Jon Katz

22 February

The Importance Of Car Dogs, And Why They Are Disappearing.

by Jon Katz

I once gave a book reading at a small Vermont town in the summer that loved it’s dogs and rode everywhere with them and brought them to my reading. Some got restless and were put in their owner’s cars. It was a pleasant Spring Day, about 60 degrees.

The reading was interrupted, then cancelled because a couple of animal rights zealots went by and decided it was too warm for the dogs to be in the cars, even though it was cool and the windows were wide open for ventilation.

Some months later, the bookstore messaged me to say the same thing happened at the local grocery where some other intrusive nutballs decided no dogs should be left in cars after May 1st, and police showed up again. Nobody in town takes their dogs in their cars any longer for fear of getting arrested. I met some of these people at my readings. They adore their dogs and would never endanger them.

In America, the idea of minding your own business is being swept away by zealous and clueless people who hide their hatred of people behing the pretense of loving dogs. If you really love a dog, as I do, you bring them everywhere you can. Zinnia loves to come along when I go out of the house, and I love to have her with me. In the warm summer months, I leave her at home when it gets too sunny and warm. I use my common sense about it, and I never consider the business of other people or the police unless the dog is suffering visibly and seriously.

Car dogs are one of the sweetest and most beautiful American traditions, but I hear all the time of animal rights abuse of power stories and more and more people just don’t take dogs for rides at all unless it’s cloudly and cold. A woman in Saratoga Springs messaged me and told me that when she pulled up in front of a pharmach to pick up a waiting prescription, she was arrested, handcuffed and hauled off to jail for the afternoon.

Dog lovers ought to have the right to take their dogs wherever they wish for as long as they wish, period. It is illegal to abuse dogs and if people do it, they can and sould be punished. But it’s not up to roaming vigilantes to do the policing.

PETA, now one of the most extremist of so-called animal rights organizations, claims that “162 dogs and other animals” died in one recent year from heat exposure in the summer. Considering that there are an estimated 90 million dogs in America, the number is disturging but hardly horrifying or surprising. The figure includes homeless people who live outdoors and on the streets.

There will always be some careless and thoughtless people, we will never live in a perfect world.

As usual, there is no explanation for the date they use to raise money.

American dogs are the luckiest dogs in the world. People use to eat them for good and beat them to death as punishment. That is very rare in modern day America. I wonder how many dogs are saved by people who spend thousands of dollars to keep them healthy and safe? I don’t see any on PETA’s website. Nor do they mention that 19,215 americans died of traffic accidents in the first quarter of 2022.

No dog should die that way, and no dog owner should be harassed and persecuted for having dogs that do not die from heat exposure and are clearly not in danger. It feels like just another way for the movement to scare animal lovers into sending donations rather than educate them or help them understand how to keep their car dogs safe in warm weather.

Non profits – especially animal rights groups – have learned how to scare people into sending them money, often exaggerating alarms and statistics.

An animal rights group (not the real police) in a town near me patrols the shopping districts to brak open car windows and calls the police if they decide it’s too hot. The dot owners are not given an opportunity to protest or leave or take the dog out of the car. A new law in Saratoga Springs says the people inside have to be handcuffed and taken to the police station to be charged and ticketed for animal abuse if dogs are left even for a minute in a warm car.

I had a dose of this experience twice.

Once, last May, I took Zinnia with me to do a food shop. It was a beautiful early summer day, the sun was out, it was windy and the temperature was in the 60’s. Zinnia loves riding with me and I always leave the windows down all the way on both sides so she can stick her head out and smell things.

I’ve done this a thousand times including two days ago and have never done it when it’s hot, knowing how quickly a car can heat up. That time, I came out to find a police officer and an animal control  truck next to my car preparing to pull Zinnia out. A self-appointed animal rights vigilante saw Zinnia and decided she shouldn’t be there.

She didn’t think any dog should be allowed to drive in a car between May and the end of September, and since it was June, she was calling the police whenever she found one. she didn’t know the temperature or have any kind of veterinary training. She was a school bus driver.

An officer told me he had no choice but to get the dog examined and remove it to a local kennel. He said some people were bashing windows if they thought the dog might be hot.

Then a superior officer pulled up and told the first officer that he was not obliged to take any action and as he put it, “any idiot can see the dog is fine, not breathing hard or showing any kind of distress.”  Actually, not any idiot.  A self-appointed and untrained animal police officer thought otherwise.

And the day, the captain added, was cool and comfortable with a breeze. The animal rights hero said she would file a complaint against the superior officer for dismissing her complaint. Go for it, he said, “you might think about minding your own business, this man obviously loves his dog and would not hurt her.” It was her tenth call to the police in the last two days, he said. She patrols the parking lot as oftne as she can.

Lots of animal rights people love dogs and  fight for them, bless them.

Lots of them are just unbalanced and without any real knowledge of dogs, who have for centuries, and especially in rural communities, ridden around in trucks and cars. I see on in many farm trucks, and good for them.

I left and still bring Zinnia to the market when it’s cool enough and safe enough.

Unless there are signs of serious injury or suffering dogs, I will bring Zinnia any place  want and any time I want.

If I have to hire a lawyer and go to court, I’ll do it. Without some grievious evidence, Zinnia’s safety is my job, not every stranger who is looking for something to do.

The sergeat who pulled up used his own judgement and saw there was nothing there that called for police interference. This is why so many rural people hate the animal rights movement. Farmers love their animals and care for them better than many people care for their chilren. And they are constantly harassed and accused of animal abuse.

I was reminded of this when some animal rights idiot wrote to me in December demanding that Zip, our new barn cat, be brought into the house on cold nights.  She didn’t know me, had never seened zip or my farm.

I declined to answer her or educate her about barn cats and their mystical lives outside. The next week, a sheriff’s deputy pulled into the driveway and said this sad person called the police claiming I was abusing my new cat and endangering his life.

At my invitation, the deputy came out examined Zip, saw the heated cat house where he slept, and noted his smooth, clean coat and full belly. He is fed twice a day.  He joked he wouldn’t mind sleeping in Zip’s heated cat house.

He contacted the woman that day and said her complaint was baseless. He said he would be happy to live on our farm if we invited him.

She never, of course, apologized or explained herself.

On the extremist end of things, the animal rights movement has become just another hate group in America, shoving aside truth, perspective or common sense.   Hating people with animals does not improve the lives of animals or protect their “rights” to live and be with people.

This woman was both a liar and a coward, hiding behind the anonymity of computer messaging and take no responsibility for her ignorance. This would have done Zip and us a grave disservice if a different officer had taken the cat away and send him to animal control or a rescue group.

There is abuse of animals, of course, and the people who do it should be punished. But for me, animal welfare is not about hating people and lying about them. This does animals or people no good, and it breaks my heart a bit to see that the beautiful tradition of dogs riding around in cars is fading rapidly – I can see it – because the animal rights movement continues on its deepening campaign to drive animals away from people, even when it is clearly either unnecessary or a cruel thing to do.

I’m sorry about those alleged 162 dog fatalities. Tens of thousands of children due by guns each year in America, many more in car crashes. I don’t see any persective here. These deaths are not profitable. More than 60,000 children were killed or injured by gunfire in 2022. But dogs can’t ride around in cars in the summer ,please send a donation to PETA.

What kind of country are we becoming?

I won’t fall victim to this stupidity and overreaction. It’s  wrong to take the exception and use it to make it the absolute rule and seperate dogs from the world world of people. I won’t do it.

I called the bookstore where I gave the reading last week and asked if anyone brings their dogs to readings anymore, or to the town grocery when they are buying food. No, he told me, “people in town tell me they don’t ride around with their dogs much anymore. They fear getting humiliated, threatened, seeing car windows broken, or handcuffed and jailed for something their families have done for more than a century. It’s safe just to leave them at  home.”

This makes it a very sad story to me.

22 February

My Granddaughter Robin Pulls A Tooth. She Names The Tooth Fairy “Sparkles” And Designs A Flag For Her.

by Jon Katz

My daughter Emma was thoughtful enough to send me some photos that tell the story of Robin and the tooth she pulled out of her mouth last night, and also of her letter to the tooth fairy. She left the tooth fairy a message and named her “Sparkles.”

The way it usually works, as I recall, is that the tooth fairy leaves the kid a note when the first tooth comes out,  along with some money or a gift.

Robin being Robin, she decided to do it her way (yes, this does seem to run in the family). She not only names the tooth fairy, but suggests that there should be a tooth fairy flag, and designs one.

I like the flag. So far, no response from the tooth fairy. I do think there is some royal blood in Robin’s veins, and that does not come from this grandfather.

Robin was thoughtful. She wrote the note, wrapped it up neatly, and awaits a  response. She may well get one from me. This kid is going far.

21 February

Three Days Later, The Nightmare All Came Back, It Was Another Violation

by Jon Katz

Physically, I’m back to myself. I realized I took too many edibles last week, and it brought it all back, things long buried and best forgotten. I’m told I should try some cannabis again; I’m not good at quitting when I start something. Sometimes I need to let go.

I took too many edible gummies last week, as is now apparent to me, and I paid for it.  I got awfully sick.

But the important thing now is that the emotional damage is surprisingly deep and hurtful, and it makes me very sad. My body seems fine, but my mind is not yet healed; I have more work to do.

The cannabis edibles brought back memories that I never wanted to bring up again.

Neither do I want to jump on the growing American victim train, and so many people – I think of women and immigrants and enslaved people – have had it a lot worse than me and have a very legitimate claim to suffering.

I’ve had a lucky life for the most part. Everyone suffers in one way or another. I feel joy all the time.

But I promised to be honest and have been whenever possible. So let’s be honest.

I suffered severe physical, emotional, and sexual abuse as a child, and this weekend brought all of it back – the terror, the shame, the loss of bodily control, the nightmares, the anger, the sick stomach, and the out-of-control body.

I don’t need to offer any details.

I was watching the mystery Shetland last night with Maria, and after one of his deputies had been raped, she told her boss Jimmy Perez,  that she was trying hard to be strong and well, but it was so painful and exhausting she could barely stand it.

I turned to Maria, and she saw my face and asked what was wrong; I said, “I can’t compare myself to anyone, let alone a woman who was raped, but when she said that, it was as if a dam burst and a flood of pain, terror, and degradation just poured through me. I felt dirty, ashamed, and guilty, as if it was my fault.”

That’s what it feels like,” I said, “It feels like a violation again, like something entered into my very being and body and violated my spirit and pride.” And it all came gushing back, and it was awful.

Tosh, the deputy in the show, spoke to my heart, much to my surprise and confusion. I am not a woman and cannot ever feel what so many have felt for so long.  But what I did feel hit me like a hammer and chewed up my insides. I was right back there.

Degraded and helpless and terror-stricken were the words that came to me and that I still feel, and I had to turn off the show and sit with Maria and talk to her.

As always, Maria was patient, listening, and loving. We turned off the stream and talked and then went to bed. I slept very little last night, and then I remembered how well I slept the first time I took the cannabis.

So I know I’m okay, but I see this will take a little longer to heal. This other stuff hurt too much. I just can’t whistle and pretend it’s over. I was caught in a dread recreation.

I called my daughter Emma, who is very honest with me. We are getting closer all the time. I told her some of what had happened, and I said one thing I regretted was the sleep relief the cannabis had brought to me.  She knows about most of what happened to me.

How curious, I thought, that a 76-year-old man was asking his daughter, who just turned 40, about taking cannabis. Emma is both intelligent and wise, and I listen to her.

She said the problem was that I took too many edibles and much too quickly. I still needed to do my homework. She said it often happens; I had to learn from it. I should give it another try if and when I am ready. She knew several friends this happened to in college, and most of them learned to try it again, but differently.

She helped.

I’m not ready to jump back and may never try it again. First, I must be quiet and gentle with myself and others and return to normal. I need to remember the work I have done on this.

Tomorrow I talk to my long-time therapist, who I also trust and listen to. She knows all about my childhood and has worked with me to get to a much better place.

I am confident she, Maria, and I can get there again.

(That’s me. I’m four years old.)

I’m not the child I was or the person I was. In the past, I’ve been told to go back in time and talk to that little boy and reassure him that things got better and I ended up fortunate, happy, and well.

We know each other, this boy, and we have spoken before. A photo of me is hanging on my wall.

I have told him several times that things worked out; I got the girl.

He always smiles at that.

I don’t need to write more about these memories, and I don’t believe I will.  But I don’t want to be fake, either.

It didn’t feel right to me to move on so quickly and brush it off. It has smacked me down, at least for a couple of days.

Thanks again for listening and for all the good words you have sent me.

 

21 February

New Glasses For Me Today, Thanks Bonnie. The Blue Ones Made Me Crazy

by Jon Katz

Bonnie from Old Saratoga Eye Care in Greenwich, New York, texted me today to say my new glasses were ready for my approval and to figure out which new lenses I needed.

I am eager to get rid of the ones I have; they are tinted blue to block the intense light of the sun and the blinding force of LED lights in trucks and cars.

Most days, when I want to take a picture, I have to take the glasses off if the sun is bright, and when I look in a mirror, which I don’t often do, they make me wince. Not only are they too dark in direct sunlight, but they look like the classes mob bosses sometimes wear. Everybody has their issues and tastes, but my blue-tinted glasses were a mistake.

Bonnie is holding up a measure to my face for measurement. She was great. I decided to take my Monochrome camera today; I’m weary of being too bright, but it means people can’t see the reddish tint of the glasses.

I like a little color there.

They will be better for a photographer. Bonnie and I went over some possibilities. My first choice was no longer available, but she said this reddish, round pair looked good on me, and I agreed. So did Maria when I texted them to her.

“I love them,” Maria texted back. Good enough for me, I thought; she’s an artist with good taste.

I asked Bonnie for whitish glasses, and she delivered.

She carries the most weight with her glasses. I don’t have to look at me much of the day; she does. So, I bought this pair; thanks, Bonnie, for your help, guidance, and patience. You know what you are doing, making the process informative, thorough, and fun.

You got me the precise glasses I wanted. I have two more weeks of the one I don’t want any more.

(Bonnie took the photo of me)

The glasses are off to the lab for new and clean lenses – the sunlight screening is not visible – and they’ll be back in about two weeks. I feel good about them. I’m in a mood not to put a cap on today; as Popeye once said, “I Yam What I Yam!” Me too.

I’ve learned recently that happy employees make for happy customers.

Most corporations are too obsessed with bigger and bigger profits to get that, and many of their employees seem grim and hassled. Steve Jobs got it.

Apple employees were usually happy to be there, and I’m typically excited working with them.

The same thing with Bonnie. She knows her stuff and loves her work. That makes it a lot more comfortable and happy for me.

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