Petey’s right dew claw is hurt

He’s not in a lot of pain or limping, but he does object a little when I go for that joint.  Noticed it when I checked him for ticks.  The quick is exposed.  I found this site.
 
Otherwise, Scottie has an eye infection that is latent.  It got worse when I gave him the Parvo vax (it’s to be expected cause it momentarily suppresses their immune response) and then got a lot better but is still draining every morning.
 
Spin has an apparently fenbendazole-resistant tapeworm infection.  I am pulling about 30 ticks a day off of Chandler and Spin each.  Both Spin and Scottie need to be neutered.  They are great, well adjusted, dogs who are very sweet.
 
Petey’s rabies vaccine was updated a couple of weeks ago.  I know, because the dogs always become slightly more aggressive the day after their shot.  I think the Baptist church did it.
 
I am taking everyone down south to Tx for father’s day.  Hopefully, it will allow the mange outbreak to completely clear, in our absence.  Everything can be washed, and the dogs cared for, for a reasonable price.  I can’t afford the local vet, or really, for that matter, anything around here.  It’s all really high.  I pay $9 for a 4 lb bag of dog food with a credit card (that can only be used at a gas station).  I guess the government, lawyers, or doctors confiscate any cash.  I have none.   I think it is highway robbery, but I have no choice – if I want me and the dogs to eat, I go there and pay what they ask.  I guess it was like the company stores and scrip.  The gas station is pretty careful not to stock anything I might actually WANT to eat, or anything healthy for me.  So they are basically trying to kill me quickly by forcing me to eat what they offer.  At this rate, and with this lack of choice, I really am pushed between 2 competing drives – that for self-sufficiency – a desire to completely refuse to participate in the economy (of my destruction) and find other solutions that don’t involve money, and the drive to give them what they apparently want – my destruction.  That is why I have to leave.  Apart from literally being eaten up by bugs (and probable intestinal parasites) and with the lack of support for any positive leadership identity in the community, that is the complete denial of any initiative and the forcing upon me of authority in order to move forward, my identity is basically being killed.
 
I think that God wants me to have an identity.  I am not sure that the church thinks so.  But God delights in my ability – not my dependence.  I could spend 80% of every day wasted in effort that someone will negate and undo because waste stimulates the economy, and the community will not allow anything useful to be accomplished.  Not just this community, but this seems to follow me…not sure how, perhaps its as simple as a declaration of the word "psychotic", and social workers who are determined that you will indeed acknowledge authority.  One thing is certain – I have had no voice in this declaration.  No defense. 
 
There was a lot of media hype about P. Diddy’s $350 000 birthday present for his son.  Society has been all over him for this.  I get it.  He will please his son, because society has failed to offer him a reasonable reward system.  So, he takes charge, and in an antisocial gesture says, I don’t need your values, I can please my son with what I have.
 
This said, I will definitely be moving my dogs into a hostile social situation.  My family has decided I am an animal hoarder, and basically refuses to have anything to do with the dogs.  They want them dumped in the closest animal shelter.  Father’s day is the anniversary of my losing my dog Casey (was it 3 or 4 years ago?  the years blur with this lifestyle).  She was taken by an AC officer.  She was the love of my life – I remember holding her in my arms after she was shot by the police (she survived), walking 8 miles to the vet’s office when they forced me to spay her after managing 8 heat cycles and sneaking her on the city bus because she was too zonked after the surgery to walk the 8 miles back.  I also remember sneaking her into a shopping mall photo booth and taking our picture together.  I really looked happy in that picture.  I used it to make my own ID when the court forced me to carry an ID.  After I lost her, I never made another ID.  The one that I had with her was thrown in the trash by the police during an arrest on vagrancy charges.  I lost my ID as far as the government was concerned – it was inexorably linked to this really sweet pit that everyone wanted dead. "Casey, casey, who loves her mommy"…the last words she ever heard me say.
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