carrie and i were talking about the blog today and about how we are perceived. steve and i had the same conversation earlier in the week (he told me i can't use the "F" word anymore...good luck.)
there is no doubt that i have more than a bit of a irreverent rebel in me...i suppose it comes from being a preacher's kid.
but this blog for me is a matter of self respect. i couldn't really respect myself if i was dishonestly writing a bunch of politically correct fantasy. the truth of the matter is that when i made that insulin dose error...i wasn't standing there sheepishly saying "oh dearie me, i just made a boo-boo"....i was almost but not quite violently banging my very stupid head on the very hard floor and saying over and over again "you f'ing stupid idiot... look at what you f'ing just did!!!!"
maybe it would serve saints better if i was nicer and spoke more polite and refrained from calling phoebe an utter hag. maybe i could just tell warm and wonderfully sweet and touching angel stories about not only them but us and me as well.
i could tell you what a horrible life they came from and how by our kindness and dedication and our faith in them we brought everyone happily forever around. it was fun, it was gentle, it was clean and sweet and kind...we worked so very hard and so perfectly well. look at what we did here by our dedication and our incredible purity, we gave them heaven instead of hell. everything would be easy to read, easy to imagine, ...even easy to understand.....just one very bright never ending happy ever after fairy tale. (i am SERIOUSLY gagging here now.)
ok, so how does that respect how hard this really is? not just the work that we do but that we do it as damaged and flawed and imperfect as the animals we are trying to help. this is really quite amazing if you ask me.
most days around here.."golly gee, i did a boo-boo" just doesn't describe it every well....especially when you know that what you just did could harm one of the ones you really care for... but that lovely and descriptive "f" word describes that sickened and sinking and yes even angry at yourself feeling really quite well.
i think it is disrespectful to me to turn this whole freaking thing into a lovely children's bedtime tale. i think it is disrespectful to the animals to minimize what being homeless (and at my occasional stupid mercy) actually means. i think it is disrespectful to people who come here to share real life at saints to be fed a bunch of whitewashed and politically correct and positively happy feel-good drivel.
this is really it man...the good, the bad, the ugly, the dirty, the stupid, the insane and the blindingly honest purity of what really happens around here day after day.
i swear like a trooper. i make fun of twisted things. i love and am committed to these beloved little bastards thru every single good, bad and indifferent thing.
saints isn't for everyone and neither is this blog...maybe it is too graphic, maybe it is too raw...maybe i could tone it down and make it nicer and prettier but then that wouldn't be the real thing...it would just be nice...awwwww.
i love this place and those that live here more than pretty much anything. and i will not (or cannot) sell out and become a Public Relations Say-It-Nicely (and if you can't, pretend it didn't happen and don't say anything) and fluff it up all pretty so it goes down more easily.
rescue is not pretty and neither are the folks who do it. our clothes are dirty 5 minutes into the day, we waste time on a haircut maybe once a year, we forget to look if our finger nails are clean as we rush down to the vets, and we can have not only warped senses of humour but sailor mouths too.
and i wouldn't re-fabricate the reality of it for anything or anyone in the world....shoot me dead before i ever become a PR machine...i would rather roast in hell for saying F___ a few times too many. (i only really spell the whole word on here when i am really upset)