Day: September 15, 2018

Ali needs to start getting some supplies for the upcoming soccer season. He needed several pairs of new cleats for the team and also an air pump. I met him and wrote a check for $160.

Soon, we will have to pay to rent indoor soccer training facilities for the new season. I am re-building the refugee/soccer team fund, the last few weeks have been intense.

Every team in their league – most of them are suburban and affluent teams – rents space in indoor arenas so they can train in the winter, and we know of a good one. Last year, that cost around $600 plus pizza and snacks. The team is also getting new uniforms – they are the Bedlam Farm Warriors now, independent both from  RISSE and from Bedlam Farm.

That is mostly paid for, I owe only $500.

I am honored to be the sponsor, but I don’t need or wish the team to carry my name, I don’t own the team or run the team, I just support it. For the past few years, Ali paid for everything out of his own pocket, it nearly ruined him.

Ali makes all of the decisions regarding the team – players, matches, training, uniforms.

Someone once called me the team’s ATM, and it was meant as a joke, but there is truth to it. I raise the funds for this  team, I have no authority to run it and have no interest in running it. I know nothing about soccer, for one thing.

Ali is a born leader and has taught the players enormous values and loyalty. All of them are honor students, and I admire the way they care for and support one another. He has done a wonderful job caring for them and instilling the best  values.

Ali and I are close, we are brothers in many ways, we love and support each other and talk openly and honestly (and often), aware of the irony of a Providence-born Jew and an American Muslim from Sudan working so closely and easily together to support the refugees and immigrants who need help so badly now.

This is my time to be a patriot, and fight for the soul of my country, for our better angels.

The soccer team players – all refugees –  are very lucky to have Ali as they navigate this new country with its alien and increasingly hostile environment. I love our “office” meetings, we both know I could simply transfer money online, but we cherish these meetings.

Maria came with me (she took the photo) yesterday – Ali loves her –  and we are both going to have dinner at Ali’s home on Sunday night, we are going to meet his mother and family and also dine with Sakler Moo and his mother. We are looking forward to it.

Ali says in his culture, they see their mothers every single day of their lives.

When he was in high school, he said, one of his classmates called their own mother a “bitch” – Ali couldn’t even say the word, he said it was the “B” word. Ali was horrified and slugged him for this disrespect.

We talked a long time about the culture Sakler Moo comes from and whether or not he will be able to keep his connection to this culture in his new school, a prestigious and rigorous private academy with strict rules about clothes, appearance, studies and social behavior.

I said Ali should expect Sakler to change and I said I imagine Sakler will have his hands full navigating these two worlds. I hope the school leaves him alone and supports  him in this effort.

I am committed to helping Sakler Moo get through this academy if that is what he and Ali and his family wishes. So far, I’ve paid the tuition we needed for this year – $6,000, and have already raised $3,500 for 2019. I am paying Sakler’s family share – $2,000.

A generous member of the Army Of Good has pledged the family share $2,000 for each of the next three years. I told her she can always change her mind, but knowing her, she won’t, and if she doesn’t, then I already have just about have just about enough money now for 2019. I’m not certain, but I think my obligation next year will be $5,000.

We had to pay a one-time enrollment fee of  $1,000 this year.

I would welcome some support for the soccer team as it enters it’s new year as the Albany Warriors. If you are so inclined, you can send a contribution to me, Jon Katz, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816, or via Paypal, [email protected].

New federal banking regulations require that checks be made out to me as the “payable to” person, so please make the checks out to me and mark what the check is for on the bottom: “Soccer  Team,” “Refugees” or “Mansion residents.”

The payments are audited monthly by a bookkeeper and a New York City accounting firm.

I have separate accounts now for these groups, and every penny goes where it is supposed to go. If you are supporting me or my blog, you can just say “blog.” And thanks, thanks, thanks. This work has been the most rewarding chapter of my life, and I am committed to doing it well.

Audio: Reflections on our “office” and the Soul Of America

When Carol Johnson first saw Bud, he was splayed and shivering on the floor of the vet’s examining room, shaking and quivering and refusing to get up. He was dirty and hungry and thin. He was terrified of any male around him.

That was several months ago. Today, says Carol, an admitted softie, Bud wrestles with other dogs in her bed, seeks out belly and ear scratching, steals bags of chips and cookies if he can. (In other words, he’s a Boston Terrier).

I told Carol I suspected she was spoiling the dog rotten, and she said she absolutely was, she said once you see the dogs she rescues in their original condition (she fosters sick and homeless dogs for the (Friends Of Homeless Animals Rescue Group), you want to shower them with love and attention.

(The FOHA seeks out the lost of the lost, they are the ones vets call when dog owners want to euthanize their dogs and the vets don’t want to. I support their work.)

I am getting Bud from the FOHA, I remember the first photo I saw of him. Grim.

When I first spoke to Carol – now a good friend – about Bud, she warned me that he was terrified of many things, especially men, and didn’t play or seek attention. He was too timid to misbehave.

Now he plays continuously, loves attention, and has no problems with men.

This, I think, is what life with Carol can do for dogs. Each night, at 4 a.m., Bud and his buddies wrestle on her bed. Carol says she just pulls the covers up and hides. I told her he will get a different response if he tries that her. She laughed.

She cautions that Bud does like to chase cats, and I smiled. Flo can’t wait to teach another new dog some matters, even the wild-eyed Fate gives her a wide birth (she chased her once and paid for it) and Gus also chased her once, and not again. Minnie just loves every creature to death, they always come to love her.

More and more Bud does remind of Gus, who was a classic Boston Terrier – he thought he was a dinosaur, was fearless, loving, was the King Of The Realm, slept and dozed where he wished, and stole every toy in the house, and strutted around like he owned the place.

I am eager to resume my writing and study of the Small Dog Experience, now the dominant dog experience in America. I wish to be nothing if not current.

The thing about Boston Terriers is that they have no idea how small they are, and could care less. Every dog is different, and I am not seeking or expecting another Gus. But I’m happy to hear that Carol’s loving and tolerant household has brought Bud back to life.

We hope to continue the journey here. Two weeks to go, on Saturday September 29, a couple of  weeks ahead of our Open House. Bud is being shipped to Brattleboro, Vt. on a special dog transit and we will pick him up there. He’s coming up with Midge, a once starved Chihuahua adopted from the blog.

We’ll bring a crate and maybe a lap, if he wishes and fits. This will come upon us in a blink, we kept all of Bud’s things, so we don’t need a new crate or toys. He’s going to continue to eat Science Diet adult food, at least for now, and has a vet appointment two days after he arrives.

Bud is recovering from heartworm, and can’t be finally released until his last blood test on Sept. 28. Fingers crossed.

Matt Ross, our farrier, came today to trim Lulu and Fanny’s hooves, they were a bit long. The donkey’s hooves grow much faster in the summer, when they are eating fresh grass – with the rain, there is a lot of it this year. These are two sweet donkeys, Matt says they are the nicest donkeys he has ever trimmed. Fanny loves him, and snuggles up to him while he is trimming Lulu.

Matt is a good and fast worker, he was in and out in 15 minutes, and the donkeys look sharp. He says both are in great shape.

They will be here to greet and meet people on our Open House, Columbus Day Weekend. It is shaping up beautifully. Rachel Barlow will paint on Sunday, Maria’s belly dancing group is also coming Sunday, and we have a stellar poetry reading session on Saturday afternoon (the shearer is coming at 1 p.m Saturday).

Mary Kellogg’s new book ‘This Is My Life” is out, and I will read from it. Amy Herring will be reading some poetry from her new book, so will Jackie Thorne and Carol Gulley will also be reading one of her poems.

I’ll be doing many sheepherding demonstrations with Red and the incomparable Fate, and people can meet  Bud, our new Boston Terrier, riding up on the rescue van from Arkansas on September 29.

I’ll be giving a talk about the small dog experience, from Gus to Bud.

The heart of the Open House is Maria’s art show, her studio will be chock full of unique and interesting and inexpensive from nine local artists, plus herself. Our theme is “The Art Of Rural Life.”

This celebration of our lives and of the creative spark looks quite special. Hope to see some of you there, for those who can’t  make it, lots of videos and photos.

As I have mentioned, Maria sings the “Minnie Song” to our three-legged cat Minnie  every morning when we go outside, and the song has gotten into my head, I’m singing it too.

Today, while getting my new audio microphone system to work, I started singing the Minnie song, and I invited Maria to join me. Our invitation to the Emmy’s Monday night must have gotten lost, but we’ll surely be on next year.

Maria graciously – and somewhat enthusiastically joined me for a rendition of our “Minnie song” right here on the blog. World rights have not yet been sold, but you are free to sing it or reproduce it in any form you wish.

Who knows where this could lead. If anyone wants the number, I’ll be happy to hook you up with my agent.

The noise you may hear in the background is Red whining, he didn’t care for our singing the “Minnie Song.” The song was partially created as an homage to our brave Minnie, who was mauled by a wild animal and lost a leg. After a long recovery, she seems none the worse for wear and has taken up resident in Maria’s Fiber Chair.

Bless you, Minnie, you are a trooper.

Below, finally, and after so much anticipation, and on the new blog audio system:

The “Minnie Song”, By Maria Wulf and Jon Katz