We are losing it

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/htm...3_danny31.html

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When there was an armed killer on the loose in West Seattle on Wednesday, and, it was believed, another one in the University District, a report came into our newsroom that The Bush School had gone into lockdown.The private school is near Madison Park. Nowhere near the manhunts.It turned out students at the school had seen a man with a gun. He was out jogging. Wearing a sidearm for protection.

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I haven't seen that before. A man jogging in Seattle with a gun in a holster. I expect to see that in Enumclaw on my way skiing. Go in to fill up the tank and they were six guns tied down on their legs. But doing that in Seattle during the day just going out for a run?

You have not seen it because the smart jogger and shopper carries concealed in an inside holster, or on a fast run to wallyworld, in a sock in your pocket.

Lot of desperate people in our parking lots in the depressed cities.

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Originally Posted by ballvalve

You have not seen it because the smart jogger and shopper carries concealed in an inside holster, or on a fast run to wallyworld, in a sock in your pocket.

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I've known lots of smart joggers, none of them carried a weapon while going for a run.

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Lot of desperate people in our parking lots in the depressed cities.

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True, sometimes they ask me for spare change. I generally ignore them. But maybe they would mug a jogger for his heart rate monitor? Some of them can be worth upwards of a hundred dollars. LOL!

Too many scared wussies out there.

If you watch that show "ID" about murders, you will notice that no one ever came through a bedroom window or side door that had a big dog in the house. Always go and kill the neighbor with a parakeet. Preferably a German Shepherd at your bedside, and you can take him jogging too. People in cities with dogs in the house may not realize how many close encounters they have been saved from.

Kids get kidnapped on their front lawn - but my dog won't let anyone within 10 feet of my kid. Hell, they won't even roll down the window.

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We've had Shepards before. Very loyal. When I lived in Woodinville, the dog would let the kids in the neighborhood pet her, until they rode by the house on bikes. Then she would run out and bite their ankles. These were the same kids I played touch football with in the street.

The shepard we had on the farm would jog in front the tractor, and scoop up mice that were started. We never had to fed her at the farm.
The little kids in the family used to play with her, pretty much like the photo above. But if you were an older lady visiting, the dog would run out and bark up a storm. I don't always know what set them off.

The perfume! :)

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Originally Posted by Terry

We've had Shepards before. Very loyal. When I lived in Woodinville, the dog would let the kids in the neighborhood pet her, until they rode by the house on bikes. Then she would run out and bite their ankles. These were the same kids I played touch football with in the street. The shepard we had on the farm would jog in front the tractor, and scoop up mice that were started. We never had to fed her at the farm.
The little kids in the family used to play with her, pretty much like the photo above. But if you were an older lady visiting, the dog would run out and bark up a storm. I don't always know what set them off.

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Great dogs, but many have become too soft. My last one was like a cat, but looked like a killer, so it worked anyway.

This one, only lets the immediate family touch him. One of my workers got friendly with him, and yesterday I stupidly asked him to hold him for a moment - 3 stitches. About the same, if you dont try to touch him, just chases and gives little nips to people he doesnt like. At a party, he can roam around like a cat as long as someone doesnt try and pet him. Another worker, a registered sex offender, he trys to kill every time he gets with range.

We have deer here like you had mice, so he is often out on a fruitless chase.

I have a cat that could beat up a pit bull. He is going to be 25 years old, and he can take you down. I am not kidding. He has been that way since he was 7 weeks old when we got him. He likes only 2 people all others I warn them not to try to pet him or touch him. My sister in law didn't listen one day, and she bent down to do God know's what, and he nearly, took the tip of her nose off. Only certain things are approved. There is to be no whistling, no toe tapping, no foot wiggling, and absolutely, no crying. When he wants fed, what he wants fed, you better have it, and you better be quick. But, we love him, but to love him is to know him. Someone I was seeing, didn't like him, or Bob, didn't like him. He would sit and watch him. lol. Never taking his eyes off of him. He was waiting for a an unapproved movement. I knew it, he knew it. Pretty soon, he asked me to move him to another room. Hey, it was his house. Bob is still here, and he is not. If Bob doesn't approve, I don't either.

Bob in his day, walked on the treadmill with me and, this is a cat. But, Bob is different. He says one word. My youngest son's name. Very clearly. From the time we brought him home, he would sit on the steps with me while I called for my son to get up for school. He then, would make this gutteral sound. Ten years later, honestly, 10 years, I was told by my son to stop calling his name. Because Bob can say it, and " cats can't talk." But, Bob, does. One word. So, there at night, while my son was trying to sleep, Bob was in there, too, calling his name in the dark. Next, I would hear, " MOM, come get Bob! It is spooky!" I knew this was coming because I could hear Bob from across the hall calling him. And, I would have to pull the covers over my head for a minute because I was laughing so hard. But, I would get up, and go get Bob, and tell him to quit talking.

Bob, is different. No doubt about that. For the longest time I was yelling at the boys to shut the ceiling fan & light off when they leave the diningroom, do not take electricity for granted I would tell them. " BUT, MOM, we are not turning it on." " OKAY, THEN YOU tell me who is and leaving it on?" It was Bob. I caught him. We had to measure him, and shorten the chains so, he could not reach them. He was hot I guess.

Bob, is my best friend I will ever have. And, he is a cat. The reason I say this is because I think, he saved my life. Back in 98, when I was first told I had the big C, I didn't take it very well. I knew, someday, I would get some form of it for it is very heavy in my family, but, I thought I was good at least until, I was 50. 43? It hit me hard. So, hard infact, after surgery, during the treatments, I would see the boys off on the school bus, I would wave to my husband leaving for work, but, for the rest of the day, I would just sit in the darkened livingroom. Not opening a drape, a blind, not turn on the tv, not make coffee, and most days, not even get a shower or bath. Nothing. I stopped. Then, along comes Bob. He jumped up on the arm of the loveseat, and started to paw the drape, I told Bob, day after day, to " go away, leave me alone." And, he did. Except for this one day.

The day was in May. He tapped the drape, and when I told him again to go away, this time, he took that furry paw and he slapped me across my face. And, then, he backed off into a ball. I looked at him, and said, " it is okay Bob." I petted him, and opened the drape. Now, he was tapping the glass. I opened the glass. Then, he was tapping the screen and looking down and out the window. There was a robin and she had little babies. We watched the babies, we watched her feed them. We noticed a mole scrurrying about, I named him of course, everything has to be named in my life, his name was Loy.

I started looking forward to this time with Bob. I started making coffee, and since, I was now showering, I started smelling better, too. lol. Bob showed me through his eyes, that life goes on, sometimes, it just changes in what you see and how you see it. I started looking at life differently. So, now, does that make me part cat? It does make Bob, my best friend.

Everything happens for a reason, and, when I got him at 7 weeks old, nearly, 25 years ago, who would had guessed, how instrumental Bob would be in my life in healing.

Now, HJ, these stories are true, nothing fabricated, I swear on anything holy. :)

Now, getting back to Terry and his runners with weapons. I ran all my life. You can ask anyone who knows me, I was good... I beat the men folk. I ran mostly, alone, but, always ran with a weapon of choice. Anyone I ever met who ran, did the same. I have a wrist band that carries something small but mighty. You got one life to live, like that soap, so why take chances, better safe than sorry. I have a motto: I run for my health, not for my life! :)
I had a terrior mix years ago, and she was a runner she would bite your ankle off.

I would run with bear spray and a nice .25 automatic in opposite pockets. Too many easy ways to die without protecting the few threats that you can.

Imagine, a stun gun strapped to me, bear spray, a 25 in my pocket, mace in my sock, and, the 2 untractable knives. I might as well carry my purse. But, I don't run anymore not for fun anyway. I closed that chapter.

I was backpacking with my friend Bruce in the rugged North Cascade mountains. We had been snacking on granola bars, kind of sweet stuff, and we noticed a big bear following us. I didn't say anything to Bruce, but I pulled my running shoes out of my pack and tied my boots to the outside of the pack. He looked at me and laughed, "You can't outrun a bear stupid!"
I said....."Yeah. I know. But I think I can outrun you now!"

Granola bars? LOL... Terry, that is the food of the bears, they love that stuff.

Black bears are all bluff, unless you try and beat one up with its cubs. Don't do that in Alaska - you be the granola bar for the bear.