Well, it seems like Bud is already a bit famous, no wonder he posed so gracefully for this photo. He seems to like his own image. He is still recovering from surgery at the South Arkansas Veterinary Hospital, where he was neutered yesterday.
This photo appeared in my inbox this evening.
This is from the clinic treating his heartworm, and the heartworms of others.
Dr. Bradshaw is deeply committed to saving dogs in need, large and small. Today, he put Bud up on the digital screen in front of the clinic. He looks good up there, I think he likes the camera and a bit of fame.
If so, Bud is coming to the right place. My camera and I are eager to meet him. I appreciate the good words from Dr.Bradshaw, we know about famous dogs here.
I have been running weekly photos of needy and homeless dogs being fostered and put up for adoption by the Friends Of Homeless Animals (FOHA/RI), where i found and adopted Bud.
I like being famous in Southern Arkansas, it might not make me rich but it does make me happy. I’ve had a number of well known dogs, some adopted and/or “rescued”, Bud joins a proud line. I won’t call him a rescue dog or say he is abused, he doesn’t need to think of himself in that way any longer, neither do I.
Carol Johnson sent me up some photos of the giant dog transport truck that will take Bud and some other dogs up North when he is cured of heartworm (photo below).
They’re not kidding
The FOHA isn’t kidding. The FOHA dogs travel first class.
This is an FDA-approved dog transport van, temperature controlled, with smooth, clean and safe riding. Come on home, Bud, we are waiting for you. And thanks, Dr. Bradshaw, for being so thoughtful and generous. He’s the real deal.
Next stop, the Today Show. About 45 days to go, if anybody wants to count. I, of course, am above that.
So a friend of a friend called Ali up and surprised him by saying that a summer camp in Vermont was offering the soccer team four days in the Vermont hills for free, a wonderful gesture that got Ali to call me the first thing in the morning.
Of course, it wasn’t free, or Ali would not have been calling me so early in the morning. Even before we met, I guessed we would need food for 18 team players, boat fees, blankets, towels, bug spray, candles, etc.
Doing this work with the refugees, I’ve learned that nothing is free, even things are free. These kids have nothing, so when it comes to travel, they need everything.
Ali hates to ask for money, and always apologizes, but he said it would be a wonderful time for the boys, the camp was offering a large cabin that could sleep virtually the entire team. The cabin is next to a beautiful lake where boats can be rented for $35 a day.
I knew what came next and told Ali not to feel embarrassed about asking for money for this trip. He showed up with Klue Thaw, left, who is 13, and Ethaw, 14. These kids are stuck in their Albany apartments all summer unless Ali comes to spring them.
The soccer team is their world and their community, especially when there is no school. Ethaw lost his father in Thailand before they came to America.
Often, they just ride with him as he goes to work or drives refugees and immigrants around Albany. They were very excited about the Vermont opportunity, they wanted to come and see me to tell me.
Ali and I sat down. We went online and checked out boat fees. We realized we needed to get blankets for the kids to sleep on – the cabins were mostly emptied out after camp ended. We need four days of groceries, for three meals a day, for 20 people, including adults and supervisors.
(Ali is way too smart and experienced to take all these kids into the woods by themselves without a lot of supervision, nice as they are.) We added up all the things we might need, from food to bug spray and I wrote him a check from the refugee fund for $550.
We have the funds, i don’t need to fund raise. I will use my own money if he needs more, but we both are confident he won’t.
Ali had all kinds of economies, but truthfully, this is the minimum cost to ensure healthy eating, recreation, blankets and towels.
There won’t be anything left over. Our emergency planning meeting last an hour. Ali told me that Said, the Iraqi businessmen who needed help finding an apartment, has asked us to visit him next week, it sounds like he may need some help.
The wheel turns and turns. As always, thanks for your support.
The great news is that tomorrow, Ali and the soccer team will head to Vermont with the food and supplies they need for four days, thanks to a generous woman from Vermont. Ali promises to come back with some photos.
Keene works on the farm every now and then, exercising fate, helping his mother Nicole Tanton farm sit and pet sit and stack firewood. Nicole is also a vet tech at the Cambridge Veterinary Clinic, she helps keep Red in shape.
Both of them are hard workers, we appreciate having them in our lives. Earlier in the week, Nicole called to say Keene had won a single goldfish at the county fair and I immediately offered to give Keene our old 20 gallon fish tank. He loved having a fish, he needed to borrow some food.
I winced a bit, county fairs are not the best place to get goldfish, they are the backyard breeders of the fish world. Not many happy endings.
Today, Nicole texted me and said the goldfish had died – no surprise – and so she was going to return the tank. She seemed done with the fish idea, although Keene was not.
This bugged me and I called her up and urged her and Keene not to quit on the fish or the tank.
I’ll give them a couple of my fish, I said, and order the right filter for them, and will coach Keene, who was desperate to have a fish tank, on how to care for it properly.
Nicole listened, and then laughed, she told Keene that I was on the phone yelling at her, which was sort of true. She said I was crazy.
I urged them both not to be quitters, and Nicole relented and Keene was thrilled. I told them to fill up the tank and let it sit for four or five days. I’ll donate some fish and gravel and the filter.
Nicole texted me to tell me Keene is very happy and she appreciates my calling up and yelling at her. No quitters, I said, a healthy tank is very possible and not that hard to do.
It felt good and Maria was laughing all day at my harangue on the phone. “You’re very nice sometimes,” she said, “but also crazy.” This is so, it seems to be a broad consensus.
Minnie knows how to relax. She has essentially adopted Maria’s fiber chair, Minnie spends most of her days and nights sleeping on it. Minnie and I get along, I have not really bonded with her in the ways I have bonded with the dogs and donkeys.
But we have known each other a long time, and I grow fonder of her all the time. We are getting there. Today, she even let me put the big camera on her butt and rest it there as I took her photo. That takes trust and connection.
There is something special about taking photos you never imagined you would ever take. This morning, Maria asked me to take a photo of her in her belly dancing skirt and abbreviated shirt, called a Choli.
I hardly believed what I saw in the view finder. I loved what I saw in the viewfinder.
Just look at the expression on Maria’s face and the exuberant way in which she shows her body to the world. When I first met Maria, she was painfully shy, I thought she might be mute. She has worked hard to free her inner self. It is not shy or mute.
Let me set any men reading this about belly dancing right, belly dancing is not for your amusement or titillation, women do not do it to impress you or arouse you. They do it to impress themselves and take pride in their spirits and bodies.
It is, I think, all about attitude – ATTA-TUDE and voice, it is not about titillation.
When I met Maria a decade ago, the idea that she would pose for a photograph dancing in this way with her belly showing would have been absolutely unimaginable. It would have been unthinkable even two years go.
She is – was – uncomfortable with her body, she came with a lot of body shame, common to so many women in our country.
This photo – and this dancing – speaks to her dramatic evolution, she is understanding who she is, and is no longer afraid of showing who she is to the world. That is significant, a turning point, I believe, for her and for the idea of identity and self-awareness.
The belly dancing has helped guide Maria to an understanding of who she really is: me and so many others have always seen the beauty in her physical being, her spirit is radiant. Her beauty comes from her soul, not her belly.
She has learned – in part through her dancing – that beauty is internal, not external.
It has never been about how big or small a belly is, it is about how big or small our sense of self is. I share this experience, I have also learned the hard way to learn to love myself if I ever want someone else to love me. It works.
She has loved every minute of it, this dancing fosters connection and community, it is not really meant to be done alone.
For the first few months, she came home telling me this dancing was too difficult, she would never get it, never learn it, never figure out. It does, in fact, take years to lean.
But this dancing is not about entertainment, it is not about the exterior world but the interior world. It is filled with style and feeling and yes, attitude. It is also about sisterhood, these women care about each other, watch out for each other, teach each other, dance in sync with one another. Talk about bonding.
Now, Maria comes home with a different voice. She no longer needs to denigrate or diminish herself.
She is learning it, she says, she is loving it, she is getting it, she is working hard to get where she wants to go. I love the look on her face when she dances, this is the real Maria I never saw at first, but now see everyday.
This dance is transformative, it brings out the strength of the dancers, it is assertive, they tell the world “this is who I am, take it or leave it.” It is joyous and communal, an America style of dancing with its roots in Middle Eastern culture. It’s called American Tribal Style Belly Dance.
This dancing is considered a form of group improvisation, ATS is usually performed in a group, often at community events like festivals and parades.
Belly dancing has surprised and mesmerized me. So many men I know sneer and wink when they hear of it, they have no idea. Neither did I.
One day soon I will be taking a photo of Maria dancing on a stage with her dancing sisters performing in public, their arms raised about their head in affirmation, their Zills ringing away on their fingertips in rhythm, their bodies moving together, their bellies open to the world, all connected so closely to one another.
Another photo I never imagined taking. I can hardly wait.
