The Best Medicine

 Note: My recent facebook status led me to this particular topic. Here's what I wrote:

Have you ever caught yourself trying to explain your sense of humor to someone without one? I'll say something borderline-hysterical, and receive no response from that other person. So then, I end up sounding like even more of an idiot: "You see... it's funny because... it's hilarious."

*****

I'm often asked about how I do what I do... how I deal with the stress, the workload, and the heartbreak of animal rescue. There's really no simple answer to that question, and I'm sure every animal rescuer out there would agree with me.

Some days, I feel strong. Well... strong-ish. On those days, for whatever reason, I'm somehow able to handle things a little better. It's like... at certain times, my mind, my heart, my body... they're just sooo much more on-top of their freaking game, dude.

Other times, I'll be honest: I don't deal well at all. I mean, sure... I'm able to get through each day, and I don't really complain about it. But it's more of an autopilot type deal... a "do what you gotta do because you have no other choice" type situation, if you know what I mean.
(And I'm sure every animal rescuer/animal shelter worker out there does know exactly what I mean.)

When it comes to "what works" and "what doesn't," I can only speak for me personally, from my own experience, regarding my own ways of coping. And trust me... I certainly have plenty of "unhealthy" ways of dealing, but I wouldn't recommend many of them to anyone, from an advice standpoint. I'm gonna go with... DON'T follow my lead on those things. Yeah... just don't.

That aside, today, I wanted to share my very best tip for handling the world of animal rescue, but also... life in general. This isn't something "major" or "insightful" or "brilliant." It's not something I "invented," or even "came up with" myself. But it's definitely something that works for me --without question-- every time I'm willing to let it in.

Laughter.

That's right, I freaking said it. Laughter. It sounds so simple, silly, effing stupid-as-shit, even. But laughter has been the cure for nearly every difficult day I've ever had. And without it... I'd be a miserable excuse for a human being. We all would.

Therefore, I laugh at myself. I laugh with others. I laugh at the ass-birds of the world. 
Basically, I take all of the serious junk in my life, and I make fun of it. 

I realize that sounds a little messed up.. maybe even delusional... but I don't care, because it works for me. 
It's not about denying reality, or avoiding the issues, or pretending things aren't so sad. (Well... maybe sometimes, just a little.)
Regardless, I get it: reality exists, issues must be faced, and sad things happen. Duh.

But in my opinion, no matter how bad things are (or how bad they seem), if I can't laugh... then I can't freaking make it. 

Sooo, I surround myself with people who make me laugh, or help me laugh, or laugh with/at me. Yes, I said AT me. You'll rarely meet a more self-deprecating individual than me. I make fun of myself ALL THE TIME. Daily. Hourly. By the minute. And I love when others join me.

I'm lucky to have some truly incredible people in my life; I swear, my friends are some of the most hilarious people on the planet. If I talk to you, and you're a friend of mine, this is probably one of the biggest reasons: it's because you're effing hysterical, and I love you for that. (Even if you have no other decent qualities whatsoever. I'm talking, like, NOTHING else going for ya-- if you can make me laugh, then I'll probably talk to you. Maybe just not in public...)

And if you CAN'T laugh, like ever... or if you're offended by me, simply because I CAN laugh, and do... then no need to try and make small talk, buddy. I promise we won't get along. Trust me on that.

Maybe my sense of humor is a little (or a lot) inappropriate at times, and beyond-sarcastic ALL the time, but my friends get me, and they always laugh with me. Plus, my dogs laugh with me... tell me I'm hilarious and junk. Hell, even I laugh with me, even when no one's around. I can't help myself. Laughing is awesome.

Maybe I love to laugh, simply because it feels good. Or maybe it's because laughter makes the pain hurt a little less, for just a little while. Or maybe... because it keeps me from crying. 

Either way, laughter is my crazy pill; I freaking need it; I freaking love it. It keeps me happy, sane, and grounded. It makes me feel alive... even during those times when I feel quite the opposite. 

When I find myself getting to a place where I've allowed the sadness to steal my laughter, that's when I know that something's gotta change. It's always my "Aha" moment... realizing that I haven't laughed in a while. 

So, what do I do? Well, I call a friend, and say: "Okay... I need to laugh. WHAT'S UP on THAT, buddy?" Then, if/when they come up short on jokes, because I've just made things suuuper awkward with immediate demands of giggles, I'll say: "Fine... my turn. Listen to this shit, check it out... So THIS bitch..."  

I highly recommend this... it works every freaking time.

I know it sounds so simplistic, ridiculous, and maybe even idiotic, but for me, that's how I find my way back to "okay." It's rarely anything major... there's usually not some massive "turning point." Instead, all I need for me is a little bit of laughter, a lot of love, and the inevitable realization that things will get better.

Because deep down, I always know: if I can laugh... then I can make it. And so can you.

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5 Pet Peeves

Just laughing at the asshats of the world.
(Yep... that's a cheese-hat on my head.)

Sometimes, we just need to vent... about everything -- and nothing.
Today feels like a damn-good day to me.

So... here goes... a short list of 5 pet peeves (just a few thoughts we all have, at times):

1) Entitlement

I can't stand entitlement. You know... those ridiculous people who act as if you owe them something.

Actually... they act as if the world owes them something.

It's funny... these always seem to be the very people who do nothing for others.

From a personal standpoint, they've never done anything to help me. Yet, somehow, I owe them all of my help, my time, and my energy.

Do what now??

In reality, I owe them nothing. You owe them nothing. The world owes them nothing.

Of course, the "entitled" disagree.
They're "special."

Sure... it's okay to need help. We all need help.
It's okay to ask for help. We could all use a helping hand.

But expecting help... not so much.
Demanding help... um, no.
Getting pissed when help isn't provided... come on, man...

Ask and you shall receive.
Demand... and you'll get exactly what you contribute to the world: Nothing.

2) Disrespect

Blatant disrespect is just rude and unnecessary. We should all try to treat others with a basic level of respect. It's not always easy, but it's the right thing to do.
It's just common courtesy.

You won't like everyone you meet, and that's okay.
When it comes to certain people, you may struggle to be nice, and that's fine, too.
You may even avoid the biggest jerks, and that's probably for the best.

Just don't be an asshole... especially for no good reason... especially to people you don't even freaking know.

Maybe you think that you're better than others. Well... you aren't.
Rude isn't cute.
Jerks aren't cool.
Status ain't everything, boo.

No matter who you are... you're human... just like the rest of us.
Act like it.

(PS- If someone is blatantly disrespectful to you --on multiple occasions-- then all bets are off. Do your thing, girl.)

3) Slander

If you don't know someone on any personal level, then maybe... just maybe... you shouldn't bash them to others.

Because maybe... just maybe... what you "heard" about them... is not true.

So... you should either find out the truth for yourself, or maybe... just maybe... you should shut your damn mouth.

Then again, if you know someone --yet... you openly hate them-- well... that sounds like a personal problem to me.

Regardless, it's ridiculous and immature for you to make up lies about them... just to get others to hate them with you. This isn't 4th friggin grade.
And even back then... it wasn't that cool, dude.

Find something better to do. Or maybe... just maybe... go away.

4) Lying

Lying is for liars.
Stop it.

5) Greed

Greed is gross.

It's okay to be frugal and smart with your money. Most of us have to be that way, and there's nothing wrong with it. It's simply how we survive.

Frugal is one thing...
Greed takes it to another level.
A selfish level.
A ridiculous level.
An embarassing level.

Yep. That's right. I said it.
If you're greedy... then you should be downright-embarassed.
Because I'm embarassed for you...
We all are.

My 2 biggest issues with greedy-meanies are: denying payment, & denying help.

First-- it's just plain wrong to withhold payment from those you owe. If you promised to pay someone, then pay them. Don't haggle, don't argue, don't belittle. Just freaking pay them already. 
Is your greed really worth more than your integrity? Your word? Your pride?

I mean... you love to flaunt your wealth, right? Well damn... then pay your f-ing bills.

Second-- if you have a little (or a lot) left over, it would be really amazing if you used those funds to help others. Seriously... if you could truly make a difference, by sharing just a little of what you have, wouldn't that feel incredible to you?

Oops. Nevermind. Probably not. 
Silly me... I forgot...
You're a greedy bastard.

*I could go on forever with this, but I'll leave it there for today.
If you'd like to give just a little something to my amazing dogs, please click below to donate today. Even $5, $10, or $20 would be life-changing for my babies.
And in advance... thanks for not being greedy bastards :) Love y'all! -Ash

CLICK TO DONATE TO LUCKY DOG RESCUE!

The Smiley Face

Today's random, useless thoughts and humor...

The smiley face :)

It's a symbol of peace, love, and happiness. Humor, sarcasm, and silliness. Optimism, hope, and simplicity.

Maybe it's just a simple, random symbol, but it holds a lot of power. It's a meaningless symbol... with a lot of meaning.

And in my opinion, that's what makes it slightly fascinating, and highly hilarious.

Maybe you're wondering what the hell I'm talking about. It's a freaking smiley face, for freak's sake. It has power?? Come on, Ashley... it's not the gosh-darn President.

Well, sure... the smiley face is just a silly text symbol... yes.

But this symbol has a way of communicating our feelings, tone, and intent. It's also an extremely effective tool for people like me, the sarcastic pains-in-the-asses of the world. And that's why it's friggin' brilliant.

When it comes to text communication, many unnecessary problems and arguments often arise, due to the obvious lack-of-tone. Without it, the message recipient is left to decipher the message meaning... and honestly, we're just not that smart. (Yes. I said it.)

Often, this causes the entire purpose of a message to be missed. Intent can be misinterpreted. Feelings can be hurt, and/or anger can arise.

As a result, a straightforward email can spark an unnecessary, useless debate. A well-meaning text message can start an all-out war. Jovial sarcasm can be viewed as damn-near malice.

"Is she f-ing SERIOUS right now???!!! Skank!"

Yet... the smiley face presents us with a simple, effective solution to all of this. In fact, it has the power to take you from bitch to angel, in about 2 seconds flat.

Don't believe me? Here's a simple text example:

"I can't talk right now. Talk to you later."

The person sending the message is simply busy at work, and doesn't have time to talk at the moment. But she has no idea that the other person is now having the following delusional thoughts upon receipt of that message:

"Wait... she's been 'busy' a lot lately. Is she mad at me? Is she avoiding me? OMG, she so IS avoiding me!!! That BITCH!!!"

Before the message-sender even realizes what's just happened, she's landed herself in a massive fight with her friend. The friend has already assigned an inaccurate, negative tone to the message, and suddenly, "Talk to you later" becomes "I never want to talk to you again. Ever. PS- You're ugly."

The solution? A simple, friggin' smiley face. I'm not kidding. Check this out:

"I can't talk right now. Talk to you later :)"

This option sets forth a positive tone from the get-go : "Aww. That sweet girl is just sooo busy. Probably doing the Lord's work. And even still, she wants to talk to me later!"

But the best part about the smiley face... is its ability to further enable my sarcastic nature, in a way that minimizes bitchiness and enhances humor.

Example:

"It's okay. You can't help it that you're such a massive dumbass :)"

The result? Laughter instead of anger. Works like a friggin' charm.

The smiley face can turn offensive-honesty into lighthearted fun. Or it can make blatant, sarcastic lies seem innocent and endearing. Basically, it takes the bitch out of bitch-slap, and that's why it's awesome.

Here are some other fun sarcastic examples:

"Yeah... about that. If it happens again, I'm gonna need to sue you :)"

"I'm sorry I didn't get back to you this morning. I was waaay too drunk. What's up :)"

"Girl, I'm not judging. Dogs are my thing. Slutty is yours. Sluts help people :)"

"Well... it sounds like that's definitely your fault. But it's mighty-big of you to blame others for it :)"

"No. You're not bothering me. I was actually just looking for someone to waste my time :)"

"Of course I get it. And if I was completely delusional, I'd totally agree with you :)"

"That reminds me. For a while now, I've been meaning to suggest that you go screw yourself :)"

"No, I'm not mad at you. I'm just annoyed with your entire existence :)"

For funzies, let's take it another (extremely-sarcastic) step further. Let's say you send this text message to a friend:

"Please don't repeat this, but I'm leaning toward homicide :)"

Without the smiley face, your fate is sealed. If someone dies, you're going to prison.

With it... there's room for reasonable doubt. "She was totally kidding! She wouldn't harm anyone! Just look at the cute little smiley!"

The verdict? Not friggin' guilty.

In my opinion, the smiley face is simply brilliant. And due to its multi-purpose nature, I'm able to use it often. Most of the time, I add a smiley to convey my genuine appreciation for someone. Other times, I use it to solidify the positive intent of my message.

But sometimes, it's just fun to use it for... well, fun! If you've ever met me, you know that I'm preeetty big on self-deprecation and sarcasm. And that's why I'm thankful for the smiley face.

It lets people know when I'm kidding, and when I'm not kidding. It allows me to make light-hearted jokes, without pissing people off. And honestly, it's one of the only reasons why approximately 70% of my friendships haven't been burned entirely to the ground.

Plus, the smiley face is solely responsible for this ridiculously-useless blog post. I'm truly sorry for wasting your time today. And you're welcome :)

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Animal Rescue Humor

Need a laugh today? Good. Here's some animal rescue humor, from my smart-ass mouth to you:

"I want to adopt a dog, because I want to save a life. However, that life must be a registered, purebred, male, Miniature Yorkie, who weighs exactly 2.5 pounds. The life cannot be more than 8 weeks old, and I expect him to be potty trained. I request specific markings, and details about the bloodline. If you do not have the puppy I desire, then please don't suggest another dog in-need. This is the only life I'm willing to save. And you're welcome."

"I'm donating a bag of items for your rescue dogs. No need to thank me; these are just some old things we don't need anymore. Here are several, moldly, chewed-up water bowls, with massive holes in the bottom. Sure, they can't currently hold water, but with some labor, caulk, and duct tape... and approximately 10 to 12 runs through an industrial-strength dishwasher, they'll be as good as new. Here are some teeny-tiny, shredded pieces of what used-to-be smelly, old blankets. If you'll just spend the next few days sewing them all together... with the sewing machine you don't have... then this should be enough to keep one, very-small dog real warm. Here are some crusted, disgusting, old toys that our dogs destroyed and peed on. I know your dogs will love them. And here's some dog food that we left sitting out in the rain. Same as wet food, right? So, it looks like your dogs are all set! I'll need a tax receipt now."

"I wanna get a new dog. My last one disappeared. Nope, he didn't run away, and nope, he wasn't stolen. That dog just flippin' vanished into thin air. Weirdest thing. Pretty sure he was raptured. Either way, I wanna get a new one, and I'm thinking you can help me. But I'll go ahead and tell ya, this one ain't coming inside the house. I'm still dodging piss from the last one we let in there. Instead, this dog can roam free, right next to the busy highway. If he's smart, he'll be just fine. If not, I'll just come back for another one. And I don't believe in vet care, 'cause my pastor says it's a scam. Don't matter anyway... I ain't got no money for no damn vet care. Alrighty then, when can I pick one up?"

"I need you to take this dog. He just showed up at my house. If this were any other dog, I'd be willing and happy to help him. But this one's a Pit Bull, so I cannot help this dog. That's where you come in. He seems to be pretty friendly... from what I can see through the screen door. I'll be damned if I'm gonna open it, for fear of my freaking life. He's wagging his tail real fast, so he's probably about to attack me. He's clearly starving to death, so you're gonna need to feed him... when I dump him at your place without permission. Oh, and I'm willing to donate 5 bucks. No need to thank me. It's the least I can do."

"Ashley, I read your blog every single day, and I just want you to know how very much I hate every single thing you write. And I reeeally hate you. What the hell is a freaking CHARITY doing asking for DONATIONS?? You oughta be ashamed of yourself, girl! Asking people to donate toward a charitable cause that saves lives and provides a service to this community. What the hell is wrong with you? Seriously, why you always got to beg? Beg, beg, beg! You oughta bury your head in the sand, girl... wasting your life running a damn charity for a living. Grow up already! I'd really be ashamed if I was you. But nope, I'm not ashamed to be me. Sure, I wasted a lot of useless time searching for your phone number, just so I could call and leave this pointless, stupid-ass message. And of course, I'm a coward, who blocked my number from view before I called you. But clearly, I'm proud of what I have to say... and I'm not the least bit embarrassed to admit that I have nothing better to do with my time... than stalk a blog that I clearly hate, written by a girl that I hate even more... every single day of my life. That's just the kind of good person I am. You suck, Ashley!"

And on that note...

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Humor in Ignorance

Laughing at ignorance

Ignorance refers to the state of being uninformed, unaware, or uneducated. This condition plagues our society, and its impact is anything but "funny."

However, a lot of humor can be found within the words and actions of the ignorant. And it just so happens... that I'm in the mood to laugh today. So, here we go...

I write in an attempt to educate, inspire, and motivate. And despite the fact that my site is called "Lucky Dog Rescue Blog," a lot of non-rescue, non-dog-freak people come here, to read what I have to say. I won't lie... that's pretty awesome. That's how views change, actions change, and quite honestly... the world begins to change.

However, there are those few... shall we say... asshats, that come here just to argue. Now, trust me, I'm totally willing to have an educated debate with anyone who wants to challenge my passion, my knowledge, and my experience.  
Bring. It. On.

But when common sense, rationale, and basic decency are... how should I say this... completely freaking absent, then the "educated" piece of that debate puzzle is... well,  impossible. 

Here's the deal: If I'm not educated on a topic, then I certainly don't try to prove my ignorance... by forcing a completely ridiculous, childish, I-know-you-are-but-what-am-I debate on the subject. I'll gladly keep my mouth shut... to preserve my dignity. 

But others don't seem to share my views on humility. Instead, they'll wave that Ignorance Pride flag high in the sky, for everyone to see. Good for y'all. Humiliation looks good on ya.

Like it or not, ignorance is alive and well, and I can certainly accept that most people exhibit some level of unawareness in one area or another. But the people who truly amaze me, are those who actually boast about their ignorance. They're not only proud of their limited, misinformed views, but they'll actually state their opinions as fact, in a ridiculous, lengthy argument about something... that they honestly know nothing about. 

And here's the best part: They're too ridiculous to realize... that their uneducated rants actually do an incredible job of disproving whatever useless point they wish to make. It's simply freaking brilliant.  

Let's look at some classic examples of Ignorance Pride in action:

Exhibit A: "I know that I'm right. I found this info on Google."

You're kidding?! Google!!! Oh my goodness... that's totally the same as scientific research! And from what I hear, the ability to perform Google searches requires a very rare level of "experience" and "expertise." You should totally stick that bad boy on your resume: "Googler."

Exhibit B: "I know what I'm talking about. I heard it straight from my friend, who heard it directly from a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-grandmaw's-uncle's-brother's-cousin's-sister's-aunt's-mama's-friend-of-a-friend. It happened to him."  

Wow, really?! That's pretty much the truest story of all time! Everyone knows that you can always trust stories... that were passed down from those random, unknown friends, of someone else's grandmaw's sister's cousin's friends. It's so the same as being there to see it. Always holds up in court.

Exhibit C: "I know this is true. It's all over the news." 

Oh my gosh, totally! That definitely makes it true! Plus, watching the news, while eating a Hot Pocket, can totally make you a qualified expert on the subject. Did you see when the media reported that Elvis is still alive? So informative! I also saw Breaking News that the troops found Osama bin Laden... about 50 times before they actually did. I believe it. Then, I heard something about Paris Hilton sleeping with an alien. Slut! She totally did.  

Here's some shocking info for ya: Google does not an expert make. Hear-say does not equal first-hand experience. Media coverage does not ensure truth. 

But ignorance promises ignorance... that's for damn sure. And these folks are certainly well-versed in that department. If only everyone had that jackwagon mindset... we could still be living in those bad-ass caves without power. Bummer.

Thanks to the delusional ignorance of these jink-jankers, the world is way less awesome than it could be. But here's the good news: We're way smarter than them, so the ignorant can never win... unless we let them.  

And in the meantime, we can laugh... 

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Save the Beers

Funny....
I should be "funny" today.

Yep

I'm sure everyone can use a laugh... so let's make that happen at my expense, okay? 

PS- For anyone who is "lacking" in the sense of humor department, it's probably best to leave now... before your unnecessary judgment begins to eat away at your soul.

(I mean that in a loving way. Really.)

Sooo, I won't lie... I'm feeling a little rough today. I'm not technically "sick." At least, not in the general sense of the word. Yet, I'm slightly functional... and hey... that's something.

But regardless of how I feel today, the laughs I had last night were totally worth the semi-permanent reduction in physical strength and mental capacity. Totally.

Most of you have no idea what I'm talking about right now. Yeah, me neither. But I know this much for sure: sometimes, you have to take a step back from all of the serious junk in the world... and just allow yourself to have some fun. I'm talking ridiculously stupid, completely nonsensical, seemingly-immature-but-well-worth-the-effort fun.

I try to have fun every day, but let's be honest... some days, it just ain't gonna happen. Certain days may start off on a decent foot, but it doesn't take long for the asshats to show-up, the bills to arrive, and the world to say, "Oh really?! You thought today was going to be 'fun?!' That's hilarious! Good luck, stupid!"

Other days, you never had a shot at fun. You wake up late, and the first words out of your mouth are, "Son-of-a-piece-of-a-mother-jank-face!" And from there... it's game over. On days like that, your only hope for sanity (or maybe the opposite?) is that end-of-day beer drinking.

Welcome to yesterday for me.

Reba McEntire, circa 1995

Last night, I altered my mission just a smidge: Save the beers. That's right. I said it. Judge me if you like, but those beers were cold and suffering... they needed me. And guess what? I was there for them. I certainly was.

After a trip to the shelter (beer store), several other facebook friends joined me... and within just a few short hours, we were able to create a nationwide network of beer rescuers.

Wait, crap... I forgot about all of the help we had in Canada, too. Why do I always seem to forget about Canada?? Oh, that's right... it's because most Mississippians are totally unaware that Canada is an actual country. I've had many arguments about this topic... and even though I'm unmistakably correct when I say, "It IS a country," I somehow always lose that battle 'round these parts. Oh well... small price to pay...

Okay, back to the pointless blog post that will inevitably ruin my reputation...

Sooo, last night's beer rescue league managed to produce one of the funniest nights ever recorded on facebook... with more than 268 hilarious comments on a photo of me drinking a beer-- Bud Light to be exact (I'm hoping for some kind of sponsorship).

Honestly, there's nothing better than a ridiculously long thread filled with inappropriate comments, political incorrectness, and borderline illegality. Well... depends on your definition of "borderline." I haven't heard from a few of you today... so... if you're looking to make bail, call someone else. I'm waaay low on cash, and my 2011 New Year's Resolution was to stay FAR AWAY from prison... at all costs. Sorry.

So, the first unnecessary thread led to a dare from Jodi Chick (proud Canadian) to upload a photo of myself posing as Reba McEntire, circa 1995 (don't ask). Since the word "dare" means "you have to," I made it happen. (And I scored a 5 spot. Ja-ja-ja- jackpot!)

$5 richer

That photo led to another ridiculous thread, and another photo request/dare from another random person. The stakes were high... he offered to be my friend in return for a photo with a special pose just for him. And so, once again, I was able to save yet another beer, and make another 5 bucks. If I'm being honest, I was damn proud of me.

Soooo, $10 and an unspecified number of beers later, I had accomplished my mission. That's right: I saved the beers last night, ladies and gentlemen. But really--as with all rescues--they saved me.

I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that a few dedicated beer drinkers changed the world last night. We made a difference by opening our hearts and veins to those in need. Thank you... to each and every one of you... for being selfless and giving enough to save sooo many sad, very cold beers from suffering. I believe a few Doritos found homes as well, and that's huge.

Thanks y'all, really. Because of you, I feel like pure ass today. It means so much.

Running Late... Again

*A very special THANK YOU to my friend, Catherine, for my AMAZING new Lucky Dog Rescue Blog header!!!

Is your life crazy? Like, legally insane crazy? Well... maybe I can make you feel better about yourself. Here’s a glimpse into the chaos of my early morning routine: Part 1.

I wake up, look at the clock, and say, “Son-of-a-MOTHER-of-a-french-face! I’m late!”
The ridiculous part... is that I already knew I was late, before I ever saw the time. It happened yesterday... and all the days before that one. Sure.. in all honesty, I’m my own boss, so I’m only “late” ... per the rules I set for myself. The definition of “useless” is being late... per your own damn rules.

I jump out of bed. Throw on some clothes. Attempt to brush my hair. Wash my face and brush my teeth. I take a second to consider makeup. Then, I laugh out loud, and get real: “Um… yeah…no… makeup is for people who can wake up on time. You’re LATE.” I scrap that idea... and run out of the bathroom, as if there’s a bomb inside.

Meanwhile, my dogs watch, as the madness goes down. They’re used to this by now... but they still find it slightly-amusing… in a highly-useless kind of way. See... their only concern in the morning is going outside to potty... and getting their breakfast. Since my lateness affects their schedule... they’re basically pissed… every day. I see them checking their watches and tapping their feet, like, “Yeah, we’re gonna have to address the tardiness.” So, I rush to get them out and fed... before they fire my ass.

I consider breakfast for myself. It is --of course-- the most important meal. I look at the clock… and realize that breakfast is only "important" ... if you have time for it. I, however, do not have time… due to my lateness. Instead, I search for something edible and portable. I scan the kitchen, and spot a banana. Um... JACKPOT! I grab the banana... and reach for my purse to throw it inside…

Ummm… where the FRENCH is my purse? I start tossing items onto the floor, in search of the piece-of-crap purse that somehow disappears on a daily-freaking-basis. You’d think by now... I would’ve learned to simply put it in the same damn place each time. But what fun is that, right? I like a freaking-challenge every time I need to leave the house. Then... I hear myself asking the dogs if they’ve seen my purse. Yeah… they don’t respond.

Aha! There you are, Purse! What’s wrong with you, Handbag… hiding from me under the table? Come on out, Pursey-Smurse. I’m not going to rob you. We both know there’s not a stitch of cash inside your ass anyway.

Shoes... I need shoes. I find one shoe… under the couch. As I reach underneath, I find a second shoe... that doesn’t match the first… but it’s good to know I have options. When you’re late, the need to “match” is really quite low. Even still, I choose to waste an additional 10 minutes on the missing shoe. I frantically run through each room, as if in a maze... with no freaking exit. I look at the clock again, and cuss myself for being so useless. “Seriously, Ash?! EVERY FREAKING DAY?!”

... Got it! Other shoe was in Darla’s crate. It’s half-chewed… has more of that open-toed feel now… but it could still pass for a shoe in most third-world countries. So, I throw it on, and head out the door…

Crap! Keys. My car says it needs "keys." Seems a little demanding, right? But really... I need that car... more than it needs me. I search. I dig. I stop… and think: Keys… where the HELL did I put my damn keys?! My friend bought me a Key Finder… but I can’t seem to find it.

Son of a biscuit! Seriously… how can one person lose EVERYTHING they own, every single day?! It seems a little unnecessary, of course. For most people... it’s nearly impossible... to do something so damn stupid... on a consistent-freaking basis. But not for me. Oh, no. I reach for the stars.

I’m pretty pissed at myself about the missing keys... and also a little parched from the work I’ve put in thus far. So, I open the fridge, to grab a drink. JACKPOT! Keys are on the refrigerator shelf... where I always keep them. Duh.

I grab the keys. Lock the door. Run to the car. Crank the car. Run back to the door because I forgot my drink. Run back to the car because I forgot my keys. Grab keys. Unlock door. Grab drink. Lock door. Run to car. Crank and drive.

Driving to Lucky Dog… I reach for my purse… and look at that. I forgot it.  

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No Humor Allowed

So let’s laugh for a minute, shall we?
Or is that allowed?

Wait, crap… that’s not okay, is it? We have to be serious, right? Silly me, I forgot the "rules" of animal rescue. I should know better by now. No laughing. No fun. No smiling.

Hey you... over there… Is that a smirk on your face? What the hell is wrong with you, freak? You better turn that grin upside down, buddy, and get your happy ass back to despair. And don’t let this happen again… moron.

Here are “the rules” set by a few animal rescuers, which they expect the rest of us to follow: 
(Note: These are not MY rules, and I refuse to follow them. I just find them ridiculously, insanely, hilarious.)

1)     In animal rescue, you must remain stoic, unsmiling, and humorless at all times. (Yes. This sounds fun. Please continue...)

2)     You must spend all day, every day, looking at horrific images, urgent animals, and helpless cases. You must ensure that this activity zaps all of the joy out of your life, and do not try to replenish your happy supply. We don’t need you ruining our hard-earned misery... with your hippity-hoppity, upbeat attitude. Hopping is for bunnies. You are a person.

3)     You must crosspost with reckless abandon. You must feel worthless while doing so. You must say “shared.” If you don’t say “shared,” it didn’t happen.

4)     When someone states: “Adopted” or “Rescued” on a thread, DO NOT take time to rejoice. Do not throw your hands in the air and scream: “YAY!!!” What… you think this is a freaking theme park?? Hey lady... Jump-off that crazy train... and get back to depressed and miserable. Happiness is for pansies. Pansies are flowers. You, my friend, are a rescuer.

5)     You can cry. You can sob. You can scream. But don’t you dare laugh. NO HUMOR ALLOWED. Do not partake in activities that bring you any form of joy.  If it makes you smile, stop it now. If it makes you laugh, go to hell.

6)     Do not make innocent jokes for the sake of your sanity. What the heck is wrong with you? You think it’s okay to lighten the mood?  We’ve worked for years to set this mood lighting to the perfect level of dark and depressing. You like sunshine? Go to the beach. Wait… no. Beaches are fun. DO NOT go to the beach. Fun is for children. You are an adult. Grow up and cry yourself to sleep already.

7)     “Real” rescuers have zero emotion. I know I said you can cry... but I lied. I rescue animals. I can do that.

8)     If you feel completely worthless… good. If you feel hollow inside… perfect. If you feel like you may go insane… damn right you will. Sanity is an illusion. Illusions are for magicians. You, little one, are an animal advocate. (Duh...everyone knows that the word “advocate” really means “depressed lunatic.” That’s like first grade English or something.)

9)     It’s important to note: As a rescuer, you must attempt to undermine the efforts of all other rescuers. This only sounds “crazy” ... if you’re completely sane. In my rescue-reality, this makes perfect sense… because we’re all meant to work against each other. In it for the same reason? Please! I’m in it for me.

10)  If I catch you breaking one of these rules, I will come onto your facebook wall ... and make you feel like an ass. I will have the nerve to write rude comments on YOUR personal page, calling you names and saying you exhibit a “lack of compassion.” Especially if I see any semblance of humor taking place on your stupid, childish wall. Everyone knows ... once you become a “rescuer,” your personal page is no longer personal. It’s open to scrutiny and judgment... and your posts must remain serious at all times. After I berate you, I’ll be freaking pissed when you block me. How dare you? Blocking is for football. I, dumbass, am an animal rescuer.

Wait…I’m sorry. THESE are the rules? Okay, see… cause I thought it was about balance. Fighting for the animals... while trying to stay happy and positive. Working through the heartbreak and misery... by rejoicing in the successes. Taking a break from the tears... to enjoy a little innocent laughter. Dedicating all of my time to helping every last dog that I can... while still trying to appreciate the one life that is mine to live.

But what do I know, right? I'm just a bunny-hopping, pansy-smelling, child magician, football player.

If you believe in the above set of rules, it’s time to take a step back and remember why we do this. We save lives to bring JOY to those who are saved. This process should also bring joy to YOU, too. If your life is completely void of enjoyment, happiness, and laughter, then you’re missing the point. It’s okay to smile every now and then. You may even try laughter... if you’re feeling ballsy.

Don’t be a downer. Downers are for drug addicts. You, sweet friend, are an animal rescuer.

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A Home For Rufus

Rufus was an Owner Surrender. His family gave him up... because he “barked too much.” It’s funny… because ever since they dumped him nearly 4 months ago, Rufus has lived with me. And I’ve never once heard him “bark too much.”

I have, however, had a problem with Rufus being way too awesome for me to accurately describe in words. I’ve had the pain-in-the-ass issues of him being way too loving, far too sweet, and beyond freaking friendly. Damn… I hate when that happens. It’s like: "Umm... What the hell is wrong with you, Mister Nice Dog? You’re not even gonna bite my hand or anything? Useless!!!" (Hence, the SARCASM. It's the underlying theme of this post)

Rufus is a 100 lb., Lab/Dane mix. He’s HUGE. But I’ve never met a bigger teddy bear… there’s never been a more gentle, loving soul. Gosh… I really hate when the "sweet dogs "come in! A well-behaved, gorgeous dog with a great personality? Yeah… I’m gonna pass. I’m holding out for mischief, homely, and aggression.

With Rufus, it’s been a real uphill battle (obviously, more sarcasm). I’ve had to deal with a dog who loves to play with other pups… a real jerk who’s never met another dog he didn’t like. Well, okay... there was this one dog… of which Rufus wasn’t a fan. But in his defense, she ferociously humped him A LOT… and it was kinda scary for him. He likes it when women are more subtle… you know, play hard-to-get. So he’d run and hide from her… though she was half his size. What a vicious, mean, barking boy he is!

Rufus is such a bad boy, that he’s actually been my “control dog” for temperament testing other rescue dogs. His calm, submissive, friendly disposition was so "deplorable" ... that I didn’t have much use for him… other than to make him the most useful, treasured dog I had. But even with the additional responsibility of greeting the new guests, he never once complained. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to say: "Son, know your role! Whine already! Pitch a fit! Boycott! Or at the very least, freaking attack somebody! I signed up for a LOUD BARKING DOG! Friendliness and following directions will not be tolerated in this household, young man! Go to your room, and don’t come out until I hear you BARKING! Do you hear me?!"

Rufus behaves so well... it's actually super-ridiculous. Every day, I’ve had to watch him politely listen and obey as I said, “Sit.”

Ummm… what the crap was that? You aren’t supposed to DO the trick! When I say, “Sit,” you’re supposed to dance around, jump all over me, claw my face, then run away. DON’T YOU KNOW ANYTHING?!?!?! Ugh! The smart, well-behaved ones are the WORST!!!

Every time I’d say, “Rufus, Come,” he’d come. Every time I’d say, “Rufus, Stay,” he’d stay. Every time I’d say, “Rufus, Kennel,” he’d go into his kennel. Seriously dude, you gotta be kidding me with this crap... Where's all the "misbehavior" I agreed to take-on from you??

On car trips, he’d politely sit in the backseat and enjoy the ride… never once making a peep. I swear, the quiet ones are THE WORST! Bark, damnit! Whine! Cry! Howl at the moon, for freak’s sake! All this freaking peace and quiet… ENOUGH, ALREADY!!! (clearly, more sarcasm)

I've had to put up with all of Rufus’ love and affection… and let’s be honest… it’s just not necessary. Cuddle time on the couch with a sweet, happy dog? Um… yeah, I’m busy. Loving kisses and special snuggles? I prefer biting and hatred, but that’s just me. Fun, outdoor playtime with an awesome pup? Um… is death an option for me here… or no?

Every single day—that’s 7 days a week for almost 4 months—I have been with Rufus. And every day, Rufus has happily and lovingly greeted me, not with a bark, but with a kiss and a gentle nudge. I never once saw him without a smile on his face. I never once saw him misbehave. I never once saw any inclination of why a family would ever give-up this precious, amazing dog. I never once understood how they could do such a thing… especially not to Rufus.

Every single person who has met Rufus over the last 4 months—and there have been many—has said, “What a cool, awesome dog! He’s so sweet! So gorgeous! So well-behaved!” Those words were always followed by, “If I could adopt another dog, I’d take Rufus!”

I thought the same thing myself --on a daily basis.

But for nearly 4 months, no one ever adopted Rufus. Until now…

An amazing family in Cheyenne, Wyoming contacted me about Rufus, and honestly, I couldn’t have dreamed of a more perfect fit for my big angel. Following their adoption approval, I worked on setting up transport from Lucky Dog Rescue in Meridian, MS to his new family in Cheyenne, WY. An amazing anonymous donor made that happen. Rufus was taken in a private shuttle, direct to his new home.

 Letting him go was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I said goodbye, with a tear and a smile. The tear was for me; the smile was for Rufus.

And today… Rufus arrived. Today, Rufus got home. Today, Rufus became a treasured member of the Opsal family… forever.
Today, my baby… became their baby…

Rufus has given me so many gifts along the way, and leading him home is the best way I could repay him. I was his bridge… from the forgotten to the remembered… and he was my constant reminder… of why I do what I do.

Thank you, Rufie, for always making me smile. Thank you for always kissing my tears. Thank you, for loving me so deeply, that I could always feel it in my soul. Thank you for accepting me, for all that I am, and all that I’m not. Thank you for making me a better person, just because I knew you.  

In case I never see you again, know this: For a girl in Mississippi, you changed everything. I didn’t give you away. I just decided to share you.

Rufus giving me kisses

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Hello Haters

Hello Haters. I know you’re reading this… as you always do. There are 2 of you in particular, who have the same hateful, useless goal in common: putting all of your energy into ruining my life. Well hey there, non-friends.
Welcome to MY blog, AGAIN.

One of you is reading this at your office, as you do every single freaking day. You bitch to your co-workers (who inform me of this) about how much you hate my blog… AS YOU SIT THERE READING IT. I’d like to provide you with this shocking piece of information: No one makes you come here. I’d actually prefer if you’d go away. Don’t you understand that by purposely coming to my blog... then complaining about how much you despise me and my posts... you seem pretty ridiculous? But I guess you’re used to that???

The other hater is reading from home, where you sit and obsess about every single thing I do, all day, every day. You’ve been blocked from my facebook page, but you still study my every move on my blog and my fan pages, and write hateful comments. Then, you use all of the hatred in your soul to try and TAKE FROM ME. How’s that working out for you? Have you gained more supporters from your negative behavior? Remember this: Hatred rarely works in one’s favor. Why don’t you try, just for ONCE in your life, to do something positive that doesn’t hurt someone else?

I’m going to let you haters in on a little secret: Good-hearted, successful people DO NOT take from others to get where they are in life. Good people GIVE. When you try to gain by taking from others, you end up with no friends, no respect, and no life. Maybe you’ve both been very effective here??

Anything I’ve accomplished in my life has been a direct result of me busting my ass to get there. I didn’t TAKE FROM OTHERS to get where I am… I gave of myself, time and time again. Maybe you should try that. If both of you put even half of the worthless energy you waste on ruining me ... toward something more positive, maybe you wouldn’t be so miserable… and the world just might be a better place.

You each spend enormous amounts of time slandering my reputation, my business, and my rescue dogs. You wanna take from me? Fine. But you take from my dogs… I’ve got a real freaking problem with you. Those dogs have been through enough, and they've done NOTHING to you. Get a life, and stop taking from their’s. How dare you.

In addition, you continue to contact my best friends to try and bash me?! And you seriously think they aren’t going to tell me about this?! Why don’t you just call my freaking mom and talk crap about me? I’m sure she can’t wait to hear from you. She'd be ever-so touched.

Here’s some advice for all the haters: If you want something to happen for you, MAKE IT HAPPEN. Trying to take from others for your own gain will get you nowhere. I have never tried to take from anyone for my own benefit, and I never will. While you haters put all of your energy into plotting my demise, I put my energy toward saving lives.

And please, DO keep bashing me. The last time you berated me on MY blog, American Dog Magazine saw your ridiculous words... and gave me a freaking 2-page spread in the summer issue! Wow! Thank you, haters! You’re negativity seems to bring even more good things into my life... because I am a GOOD PERSON.

                                                                                                                        

One last note: My life is MY life. Your life, is apparently so boring, that your jealousy drives you to live through me. From now on, focus on yourself. You should write that on your hand and look at it every day. Yet, I doubt it would change much.

You're just mean people... and mean people suck.

This is the last bit of energy I will waste on you. GOODBYE.