Chena will continue to represent the site and be a face for Anti BSL advocacy for as long as I am alive.

miss you so much chena, more than you will ever know.

Susa Ataris

Beware. by the end of this you”ll know more than you need to about our new cat.

Once we got a bigger place to hang out, we were finally able to have a cat in our lives again. I think we had the new trailer for a day when I started looking on craigslist for needy cats and within a week, on a routine dog food stop at Pet Smart, we walked in just as they were closing the adoption counter. There were tons of cute cats, mostly adults or sister brother pairs, and one young orange cat. I often say stupid things for no reason so I saw the orange cat and said “I don’t like orange cats, they’re terrors.” What my mind had used to come to that conclusion was that every orange cat I’d ever known was a horrible half wild tom cat (and maybe I’m a bit of a ginger-cat generalist). Since 80% of orange cats are males, because orange is basically the calico of male cats, I assumed the orange cat, although the prettiest one, was a male. I read the card above the cage anyway, and it was a girl! I immediately and illogically changed my mind about her and decided to make a connection. I put my hand to the glass and she put her paw to the glass and it was done. There were several other females that were pretty but I was happy with a young cat, not a kitten, and one not too set in their ways already. All the cats were from the New Orleans Animal Control and had either been dropped off or caught feral, they didn’t have any clue which one she was.

We did all the paperwork and took her to the RV parked out front in a little cardboard cat carrier. She was surprisingly calm, didnt meow, didnt scratch, just quietly worried and hoped for the best. We went back inside to buy some things for her, and $150 later (egads) she was the most spoiled cat in the trailer park. I took her out once during the drive back home to give her some water, she just walked around the RV curios and sniffing everything, then mostly quietly went back into her box (except for the part where her water spilled and she got all wet - didn’t like that).

When we got back to the trailer without any issues or noise. When I opened her box, Chena -lover of all things box, was right over top waiting for the surprise. I knew it might not be the best idea to introduce them that way but I had high hopes. They would have to be best friends eventually, it’s a condition my pets have to endure (within reason). As I’d hoped, the cat didn’t even look at Chena, almost looked right through her while curiously looking around the trailer.  After that she made herself right at home. Never once hid or peed on anything, didn’t meow uncontrollably, hiss at us or try to escape. Just laid out in the open or played with her new toys.  She spent one night in the bathroom just in case her litter box skills werent perfect and after that shes been with us almost every minute of every day. I even gave her a bath on the second day because she smelled like kennel and pee and she was fairly decent about that, didn’t scratch, just a little worried.

Susa And Chena

As far as her personality, shes very trusting and affectionate but sometimes she would duck from us when she got in trouble, like she thinks we’re going to whack her one, but shes getting used to the idea that we wont be doing that. She has the “I want to trust you so badly and love you unconditionally but some bastard kicked me” syndrome. She came to us with 2 shaved areas. Her belly from being spayed and the side of her back leg. We considered at first, that although strange, maybe it had to do with the spaying but upon closer inspection the hair was longer (more grown out) and there was a 1 inch scar. She may have got cut on a fence, beat up by a raccoon.. who knows. Shes also pretty scared of loud noises, as is Chena but for different reasons. The first time she got scared was by a storage chest closing loudly, she ran from me for several minutes. It was painful that she was so afraid of me but after hours of apology and showing her that what she was scared of wasn’t so bad, shes started to understand. Now when she gets scared she looks at you intently and wide eyed to make sure you give her a sign that you didn’t mean it to scare or hurt her. You have to walk up to her and pet her or pick her up and apologize – If you don’t, she’ll run off and be scared and overall lose trust. Sensitive little kittehs!

It took us a while to name her. We went though all the cliche names for orange cats, and cats in general ans since she nibbled your hand, nose or face while she’s being brushed, we considered Nibbler (from futurama) but decided on a completely different little black monster, Susa Ataris from My Neighbor Totoro. They are soot sprites that hide in the shadows and are said to be good luck – there’s no real connection between them and her personality but it sounded like a cute name and we were sick of having nothing to call her. Within a day she was coming to Susa and it was set.

She’s super curious, what cat isn’t though right. Every time you’re doing something at the counter shes up on hinds mewing at you to know what’s going on. We encourage her curiosity by showing her every single thing she wants to see. Whether its a running tap, sink full of soapy water or jalapeños. After the first 2 times of climbing up my legs, she figured out she could get picked up if she just taps them with her paws. I find that the more you show cats willingly, rather than making things and places forbidden, the sooner they get over it. She walked all over my camera equipment and art supplies twice (on the top bunks), getting hair on everything, then never cared to hang out up there again (save the random kitty freakout and run around the trailer session).

Although I got her the cutest little princess bed, she lays on the hard floor and wont even go into the bedroom except sometimes when we’re sleeping. Good for me because I prefer my clothes stay somewhat hair free before I put them on. When I work she often sits on the breakfast tray beside me and lays her head on my arm. Making it hard for me to type but too adorable to resist. She also likes Jalapeno chips so any time we snack on them she gets her own little crushed chip to snack on.

Susa at work

Susa says hi to Ross

All in all I think we’re pretty lucky people and got the best cat we could have possibly found.

She’s undergoing lessons in fetchology, climbing the walls control (claw control), lick the doggys face and ears and most exciting of all, harness training! Shes going to be even more awesome than she already is!

I don’t know any diabetic people, so I don’t know if it’s normal to need a prescription for syringes and insulin but I know it shouldn’t be. In Argentina and Portland, the 2 places I have lived since Chena was diagnosed with diabetes, no one has ever mentioned to me that you need a piece of paper to get life saving medicine or the syringes to inject it, but every other state so far seems to think this it’s something you need permission from a doctor to get. To me that means “hey, I’m just following orders. I’m going to sit here and watch you die till you have a piece of paper for me”.

When you have a diabetic dog, this also means that Diabetic dog food needs a piece of paper as well (in every other state but Oregon so far). That is just INSANE as far as I’m concerned. I don’t see diabetic food in the grocery store needing any permission slips. What I’ve decided is that canine diabetes, and probably human diabetes, is yet another racket for someone to make money off of – mainly vets and doctors, insurance companies, pharmaceutical companies and all the other red tape dispensers out there. I have allot of respect for vets and at least one friend who is a vet but I don’t have much respect for rules that affect the quality of life of others. I spent most of my life torn between being a vet or an artist (one was less 9 to 5 than the other) but I will admit that even if they have good intentions for the greatest beings on the planet, they are not above being money grubbing bureaucrats.

I first encountered problems in Spokane actually. I ran out of dog food about half way through my stay there and went to the local strip mall Vet’s office. When I went in and walked straight to the prescription pet food in the corner, I was jumped on like an injured deer by wolves, questions gnashed at me from drooling jaws (big exaggeration) as to my needs in their establishment. I didn’t see what I wanted anyway so I said, ” I need a case of Canine WD cans”. The woman looked baffled and disappointed, I apparently hadn’t followed protocol and presented her with a prescription for dog food, food that is in no way toxic or unhealthy for anyone or any dog to consume who is not diabetic. She proceeded to ask me if i was a patient, “no”, “who is your doctor” – “they’re in oregon”, “do you have their number or what is their name” – “gahh I cant remember!”,  – but then I did remember and she gave them a call. She was able to get permission over the phone, still leaving me without a prescription in writing but I hoped for the best – that Washington would be the only anal retentive state (HA!).

Since then, I encountered the same problem in Yucca Valley, California. I called them first to make sure I could get the food there in a conversation which they promptly informed me I needed a prescription as well. It was nearly 6, the hour they closed at, so I called my vet and begged for an expedited fax to the California Vet in question. My vet’s secretary started to argue that she wasn’t sure I was really allowed to get WD either because I had never bought it at their office. “Of course I didn’t buy it at your office, I take the max (the train, and yes with Chena), the Vet there, I don’t remember her name, a woman that I’ve only seen once – she must be kind of new, told me to start her on WD and get a blood testing kit, neither of which I bought from you”. She seemed unmoved and said she would have to wait for the vet to return from lunch. I had very little time, so I was (as I usually do in a Chena moment) panicking a little. While we were waiting a block away from the vets we went into Pet Smart to check the fiber levels on every dog food they carry since a bag of WD can be up to $60 for a 40lb bag. We ended up finding a bag of Science Diet that hat 17% fiber, comparably sufficient and much cheaper than WD, but still something I would have to transition her to. We called the vet at 20 minutes till 6 and they had gotten the fax. When we got there they only had 40lb bags and 10lb bags, one was too big and too expensive and the other was too small and per pound was even more expensive. I decided to try out the Science Diet from Pet Smart and bought 10 cans of WD from the Vet. Unfortunately even that was $30 – not a price I was happy about at $10 more than Oregon but it had to be done. What I wanted even more so than a big stock of prescription dog food was a copy of that prescription, luckily they were completely willing and we now have some sort of scribbled on piece of paper that says I can buy dog food without harassment (how completely silly).

The next problem I ran into with Chena’s diabetes was syringes. I left Portland with a little under 2 full boxes, about 200 syringes. I use 2 a day and always throw them away straight after (sue me for not having a sharps box, I want junkies to find her syringes rather than use ones from their friends arm and get HepC). When we arrived in Van Horn I came to the realization that I was on my last syringe. This is never a problem, usually. We just go to Walmart and get another box, no questions asked. Sometimes I buy insulin at the same time and sometimes not. It was going to be 18 degrees the night we arrived in Van Horn and we were pretty much out of propane for heat so we got a room at the Motel 6. There was a fridge so I took in her insulin and last syringe for her morning shot. When we woke up it was past checkout time and in a flurry of hauling our things to the RV, I must have left the syringe… I didn’t notice yet, assuming it would be in the insulin bag, and attempted to feed Chena like normal, luckily she was in one of her moods and wasn’t going to eat – so when I realized it was gone, she wasn’t too bad off (not supposed to give insulin to a dog who hasn’t eaten). Later that night after she did finally eat is when I noticed unfortunately.. then it was potentially bad. After me and Ross tore apart the RV looking for any syringe that might have possibly been left in a purse, bag, jacket, couch cushion, box, art box, book or drawer, we found nothing. I decided to wait a little while and give her a blood test. She tested at 250, which doesnt mean much to you or me for that matter – because documentation on blood test results for dogs is more or less useless – but I knew it wasnt bad. It wasnt low, under 100 I have assumed from what I have read, and it wasnt high – like 600, where she was last time she had a little diabetic fit. We decided to wait till the morning, a Sunday unfortunately.

I called every Pharmacy in town, all closed, then the Hospital, who said they could not and would not give me needles without a prescription. I of course went off in a rant about letting someone die because they don’t have a prescription and they basically agreed, yes, they would and will. I waited till the last minute to say it was for my dog, a fact that I don’t think should matter, and she recommended a vet. Annoyed and feeling like like any attempts at getting syringes would be hopeless in this town, I called the vet and expected an answering machine with an emergency contact number in its message. Instead a man answered, he had been called in on a completely separate emergency case and just happened to be in the office. I explained to him my situation and how I came to be completely out of syringes in a state far away from my own vet, and he told me he would have to examine Chena and I would have to pay an extra fee for a weekend emergency visit. I was getting pretty pissed at this point and told him I have all the paperwork (most in spanish unfortunately) and asked why my vets diagnosis and proof that she was diabetic wouldn’t be enough to just get some syringes so basically.. she doesn’t die. I think the “so she doesn’t die” thing worked because he agreed that if we brought in the paperwork he would look it over and give us some syringes. A short drive into town and we were equipped with 20 gargantuan, cattle injection sized needles – but needles none the less. He however could not give us a prescription for future syringe needs, because that would involve him having to examine her, something that is not cheap (at the time I had about $7).

The moral of the story is this. Will someone please change state laws so that people dont have to jump through hoops or spend $200 for blood tests every state to keep their pets from dying? PLEEEZE!!!

I still have the honor of finding out how hard it will be to get insulin soon. I have about a week or so left.

p.s. I found a bag of regular insulin needles yesterday and just about jumped off the roof of the RV.

Its really cool inside, very classic. Im going to completely redo it and make it fully awesome over the next few months. I will also be starting a website for donations by the way.

Dont think of me getting a motor home as me giving into the BSL conspiracy. I know there are options for us somewhere (in a small town in a trashy methy neighbourhood), I do have many more reasons than Chena for getting one. It’s just funny that I realise that it is also an advantage. I will have my own customizable traveling home, assuming I can get it running to par, and I can have the mostly” Walden like” existence I want. It is fully independent, generator and all. I think Chena will be pretty happy with the idea, though she will miss the cats. We can go to the beach, new parks all the time or just walk in the desert (till her wimpy feet get tired). Today she got to lay in the sun as this is the first sunny warm week in Oregon this year. Shes the best.The gate in the back of the photo is the neighbours pitbulls area. Hes not very socialized and its sad, plus hes not neutered so hes just a hyper socially repressed brat who barks at my dog constantly. It’s not hard to raise your dogs right people, seriously. Start by cutting of their balls and taking them to a dog park or something…. yes cutting off their balls seems cruel. I agree. but what is crueler to a domesticated animal is to not cut them off and let them be a total product of their hormones. They dont live in packs and hunt and reproduce anymore. We have contained them from eachother and there isnt a dog-archy of dominant or submissive breeding stock girls and constantly humping males. With their hormones rampant they are ready to breed, hyper intense at times and othertimes agressive. This goes for females too, especially those prone to being the dominate dog over other dogs. It’s not fair to leave them as if they live in a normal natural environment when they dont get to act natural. cut them !

]]> http://antibsl.com/chena/ultimate-solution-to-bsls-picky-landlords/feed 0 http://antibsl.com/chena/harasser-directs-hate-at-my-dog http://antibsl.com/chena/harasser-directs-hate-at-my-dog#comments Fri, 23 Jan 2009 01:54:51 +0000 admin http://antibsl.com/?p=60 Recently I had some girl harass me and in her desperate attempts to win and insult me, brought up my dog.  I don’t know her and she doesn’t know me, apart from my renting a room from her in her tourist scamming apartment in Buenos Aires, over 2 years ago and for 2 weeks. It might have been longer but before I arrived, even with photos, videos, offered references and promises that Chena is the most amazing, calm, perfect dog in the world, she was still worried about her being in her house. When she met Chena finally, she liked her and said she wished she had believed me and let me keep the room longer but now there a German girl booked to take it, and I would have to move. I didn’t want roommates anyway so it worked out.

We hung out at first, went to a show, took the bus to a place or 2 before I got really sick. I couldn’t drink or eat, or even swallow my own spit. Something was horribly wrong with my throat. I laid in bed and waited for it to pass but it only seemed to get worse. She tried to tell me where the hospital was, but knew I would have trouble getting in soon, so she walked me there and talked to the first nurse. The nurse decided I was near death and that I could see someone (its free health care so first come first serve and they don’t care if you’re seen or not). The girl left me there and I waited my turn. Other than that, she never helped me with anything out of the ordinary.

We were becoming friends so helping me wasn’t unheard of, and since I was paying a ridiculous price fo ra room with only a really crappy bed in it, and she didnt have a job aside from ripping off tourists (believe me, that was the only option at the time, most rooms will try to rip you off there). She also brags to have helped me from the airport but, even though it wasn’t my fault that my flight was changed (and i did email her warning her) she had a driver show up both days,  I should have only had to pay for one, but it wasn’t his fault she cant read english very well (she claimed she didnt understand “ill be in town Friday instead of Thursday”). I would have saved money getting a taxi.

Long story short, after my being sick in bed for days, her turning out to be a constant complainer about Buenos Aires (everything bad about the place is not what i needed to hear when i just moved across the world to be there), my culture shock and her deleting emails on my computer while I was away looking at apartments. This ones fun, so… she didn’t like some french girl so she deleted my emails from a french girl.. not even the same girl. The stay ended with her yelling at me about not smiling at her or being talkative every time I walked from the bedroom to the kitchen to get something to drink (this after she got into my computer)… or something like that. Then she yelled at me about when im moving (this was 2 days before i was paid till) because she needs a day to clean an empty room with a bed in it.. which i told her I would clean. Cleaning to a spoiled rotten brazilian girl is apparently a really big deal. After I moved she sent me a few emails about how many favors she did for me, apparently forgetting she has free will, I said thanks, and I was after all paying her allot to stay in her crappy place. I eventually just had to ignore her till she went away.

A week ago, she started again, 2+years later.. How could I have made SUCH a big impression on her, with all the stupid tourists she probably housed for way too much rent, why would I stand out? Well it really started before that because she left comments on this very blog saying negative things about pitbulls and that I  “lie to landlords”. I don’t consider calling my dog a terrier mix (since she is.. why does a pitbull mixed with a lab have to be a pitbull mix and not a lab mix?!), sending PHOTOS and videos of her and offering references, lying. in any way. In the most recent emails, she called me a loser (she knows no facts about me or my life at all), said that I was poor American trash (shes super racist.. in a way only brazilians can be.. shes afraid of pitbulls and black people, so sad) and when I responded with things like “you don’t know me and I don’t know you, what exactly is you’re reasons for emailing me”, she replied with “why dont you get a real dog, that pitbulls site is really pathetic”. That pissed me off so I replied by telling her that “fear = ignorance and she never had any problems with my dog, and knows nothing about me or my dog so again, what is the problem?” and also that “I don’t really respect the opinion of racist people who act like children so, you cant really offend me anyway”. I then created a filter in gmail so that her emails would be deleted, not even in the trash bin, just gone. I told her that I did that and “there’s no point in emailing me anymore”. What did she do next?! She CALLED ME FROM BRAZIL at 7 in the morning! I don’t think she knew i would answer so she stuttered and stammered “STOP.. EMAILING ME!…. BIEEETCH!”. I laughed and she hung up. I had stop emailing her, in fact, I was making an attempt to stop her as well. She then emailed me from my website contact form, again throwing insults at my dog?! Seriously! I’m not comparing my dog to furniture AT ALL, but insulting someones pet is like insulting someone chair or second cousin they’ve never met, its the most nonsensical useless level to sink to. She doesn’t know anything about Chena or me. She also said something to the effect of “I’m as white as you are! but I’m not trash like you!” .. that made me laugh and realize that although she calls herself a translator, she must be the worst in South America because she misread everything I wrote from the beginning, only getting out of it what she wanted to and running like hell with it.

Its just so funny how having a dog like a pitbull makes some really stupid people feel they know things about you, or your dog. Like there are FACTS associated with pitbull owners or even pitbulls. Anyone who knows anything about anything knows that no two people and no two dogs are the same,. We are all products of our upbringing and personal choice and development. My dog came from a pound as a slinking, abused, sad little dog and now she is the smartest most amazing dog ever. We practically have our own language and can communicate anything a 4 year old kid can to each other. It makes me sad that some people choose to be ignorant of the possibilities life can have by being afraid and judging other people and animals. Its really really really sad and I feel sorry for them.

p.s. – This is no joke, this is what the girl looks like, thought it the moment i met her. She also squats like this all the time while she talks to people. Since I didnt have a photo just imagine Gollum with big poofy hair.

Chena in Two Guns Arizona

~Amber

p.s. This doesnt really say much for the status of any bans in the city but it does say that many people in Vancouver are pretty damn smart, sadly people and government are not always in agreement.. so lets hope for the best!

It snowed this year at my moms and Chena was pretty excited..