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April 2012




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Apr. 12th, 2010


The Honk and Wave

This May, my son Nick will go to his senior prom, graduate, decide on a college (he was accepted to three great schools) and turn 18. That's crazy.

We've always insisted Nick work hard, pay attention to his studies, participate in his community, and be a good kid. We were not raising some no account heathen with a consumer's appetite and no constitution nor were Mr. Fausone and I going to put up with his room looking like an episode of Hoarders. Nick has a wonderful girlfriend, excellent grades, good friends and nothing but blue skies ahead.

We achieved everything we set out to do with this boy (except the room part)and he's made it through 4 years of high school without being a blazing idiot. Amazing.

Nick is going to turn 18 - it's coming at me like a bullet train. When Nick was 9, there was a corn snake on display in his classroom and in making conversation I asked him, "What do corn snakes eat?" to which he rolled his eyes like I was the biggest dunce ever and informed me sternly, "CORN!" My baby is going to college - my baby is leaving the nest - the corn snakes of the world will depend on him for future corn. This is simply not possible!

Drowning myself in nostalgia, I KNOW he will not live here next year and I KNOW he belongs in the dorms. I want Nick to experience life and liberty but at the same time I suffer from cold panic attacks and deep anxieties about whether or not he'll still need me, whether or not he'll manage, what dangers may lurk in the cruel adult world and how I will ever get used to him being on his own.

I was a more difficult child to raise. When I went off to college, my mom dropped me off at the dorms and she was rather cheerful about it. In fact, I recall her speeding towards the exit, then, she honked and waved.

Everything changes and ready or not, life moves on. I am going to adjust to our new reality and get all settled in about the time he graduates from college and announces he's off on another adventure that will scare the shit out of me. It's the cycle of life.

I think I will go stand in his room a while. That always makes me want to practice my honk and wave.

I wish you a day full of corn.

Apr. 9th, 2010


Strokes, Lost and Found and those Emotional French Fries

I've had a very tedious night wherein I had 3 strokes, 4 heart attacks and a huge fit of insomnia - all over a dog called Leo. There I was working on a GREAT piece of non-dog writing and I get a text - "Leo has gone missing, I'm at work, please help."

There is nothing quite as gratifying as adopting a dog to a family who loses him.


Of course he had no collar on because one of the useless children living there took it off - and left it off. I'm not going to get judgmental about this because mistakes do happen. Once I washed Chances in the sink, forgot to replace his collar, let him outside, he found a hole in the fence and off he went. It took hours to find the little maniac and Chance was finally located in the den of a neighbor's house who found him sitting in a shrub staring at begonias. I'm not cross with the children either because being totally useless is the right of youth everywhere.

Leo was turned in at our local Humane Society so we found him this morning - no worse for wear. But, it scared me to death. I do not go through the sacrifice of rescuing these idiot dogs only to have them wander off without a name tag.

The family is greatly relieved and so am I. However, the whole mess gave me frizzy hair, made me miss kick boxing and of course, I stopped to get french fries over it. I don't even like french fries! Well, I did today. There is nothing like a little fat and salt to comfort even the Food Nazi.

Let that be a lesson to us all to micro-chip and tag our dogs because you never know! This could have been a total disaster - most shelters hold strays for 4 days and then kill them (in California) so be sure to tag your animals. The government will murder your pets if they are lost and time is up.

I have great hopes for a Friday do-over and once I'm done working on my latest writing gig, I'm going to add MARTINI to the list of my sins. I wish you all fabulous weekend full of dog tags in big print.

Apr. 7th, 2010


Pit bulls and Pork Buns

Been out pondering the meaning of life, or rather my life, checking in on my direction - recommitting to my priorities, working more in the techno-silent world of nature and the dogs she gives me. I've been hanging out with my kids, making up recipes, watching it rain, and taking more naps. I think everyone deserves a time-out once in a while and I took one. What I want to write about has changed because I've changed. I want to write about pit bulls, animal welfare, that state of government and corporate interest in continuing the outrageous euthanasia rate we have in our country. I can't pretend I don't see it. For now, I'm about using what small gifts I have to benefit the animals - I will write for them.

Which brings me to the story of Jagger. Jagger was a rescue I did in September 09 from the San Bernadino shelter. I adopted him to a nice family on Halloween. Six weeks later, they brought him back because the mom in the family came down with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.

Prior to leaving me, Jagger went to doggie day care and got kicked out for body slamming a beagle.

"Mrs. Fausone, you have to come get your dog and of course it's fine if you come RIGHT NOW."

I knew Jaggie had a big imagination and a knack for wrestling moves. What I didn't know is, he'd turn out to be the hardest dog I've ever had to train and the most insane animal I have ever had the misfortune to walk on a leash.

Jagger suffers from leash reactivity. This is a term used to describe dogs who may like other dogs, but who barks, lunges, squeals or in Jagger's case, jumps 5 feet in the air like he's trying out for Cirque du Soleil. Jagger can play with other dogs fine - he just can't take seeing other dogs on a sidewalk, in a car, or anywhere else. He yelps and hollers and goes hysterical. My neighbors already think I'm a kook. This is not helping.

I have him in special education at a local training center and we work on it every day. However, at this rate he will be eligible for adoption in 2015. I'm stuck with a dud.

Luckily for me, I love his guts out. He may be a loon, but he's my loon and I'm going to help him get better. One day at a time. I've learned a lot from Jagger - For example, he helped me realize how silly it is to try and teach a crazy dog how to run along side a bike. All it takes is one cat, me going straight and Jagger taking a hard left to enlighten this dog lady.

Then there was the time I'd got pork buns for my son and left the box in the car with Jagger - I ran into Starbucks for just a minute and when I returned, I saw two buns pinging off the back window like there was some serious handball going on in there.

I think I understand the Chronic Fatigue Syndrome thing a bit better, too. If any dog can give you this scourge, it's Jagger.

I shall overcome.

Nov. 26th, 2009

peace pie

Happy Thanksgiving!

I wish all of you a beautiful day!

Nov. 2nd, 2009

Win or Lose

Swine Flu Boggle


I am AWFULLY confused about whether to get a swine flu shot! Ladies and gentlemen it is official - I DO NOT KNOW WHAT I THINK.

Will the shot give me the flu, will it kill me, will it cause a unicorn horn to sprout from my forehead? Will not having the shot expose me to the worst plague since the Black Death of 1871? Will listening to CNN blabber ON AND ON about it cause me to go deaf and insane wherein I won't care about the flu? Is this flu a heap of bullpucky? Is this a corporate-government game on the people or a real threat to my health? What are the risks in non-hysterical terms? If I get the shot and it gives me the flu do I get a refund? Is this worth standing in line for three hours for?

What do you think? Are you getting vaccinated?


Oct. 31st, 2009

bowl of stupid

Happy Endings and Dumb Holidays

Thank God Halloween is over. It is a berserk holiday and the imbecile who invented it needs to go stick their head in a bag. My doorbell blew off the hinges for three tedious, skull cracking hours culminating in a mob of kids old enough to join the army, trying to get the last shreds of candy we had, so of course I advised them  to get jobs by next year and slammed the door. I gave them the Twix bars. But, I did slam the door on 'em. Happy Diabetes day fellas.

I have pictures of how today's adoptions went and here's Kitty with his new mom Lisa, rocking the pit bull awareness Halloween parade (he won best in show bumble bee out of 50 dogs thank you very much) and ....Jagger with his new family, and Jagger on his way home with his new best friend.

Life is good.

Oct. 30th, 2009

peace man

God bless pit bull rescue


GG Bridge

I think I will dress up like a normal person for Halloween

It's been quite a month. Work, family, dog rescue plus the laundry doesn't do itself. Yesterday I looked at hair style in the mirror and decided it looks like Amy Winehouse did it. All's well that ends well because I have homes for Jagger and Kitty and both leave tomorrow for their new lives in safe, healthy, excellent families.

I have pictures of course!

This is Jagger and although he got kicked out of doggie day care last week for playing too rough (they did not appreciate the steam roller game he invented) he is learning to be a good boy which will continue in his new home. He's going to a family with two boys, 8 and 10, who will play with him and like his rough and tumble ways. Boys rule.

The Kitty is going to the home of a pit bull advocate who is going to take him everywhere with her. Kitty is going to be a breed ambassador and work along side a Vick dog for the benefit of the breed in an organization called Ourpack.org based out of San Leandro. Kitty will enjoy the rest of his life as a respected, cared for, beloved friend.

I'll miss Kitty and Jagger and look forward to tomorrow with the same gusto as I would if I knew an asteroid was about to hit me between the eyes. There is always a sadness on adoption day, followed by happiness, followed by tears, followed by joy. It's sort of a bipolar day.

I wish you a fantastic Halloween!

Oct. 29th, 2009

free speech zone

Friendships and Frenzies


Today we are having a friending frenzy at the ol' bluesgirly journal area and this means we must know what you are going to be for Halloween, who you are and what you're looking for in a friend and then IT'S ON BABY because my friends, are the best friends ever!

Run on sentences are my specialty. Good thing I am writer so I have plenty of space to put all my run ons and run off.

I like friends who are amusing and kind. I enjoy people who are looking to do something in this world other than consume and complain. Come one and all!

As for me, I'm Valerie Fausone and I write books. I have two kids, 40 million rescue dogs, one husband and a house in Petaluma, California where all the magic happens. I am president of Absurdistan which is a fictional place in my mind and that looks quite a lot like planet earth.

Frenzy begin!

Oct. 27th, 2009


All Wet

Mr. Fausone is a normal sort of person who is unlikely to engage in immature pranks. However, Mr, Fausone has engaged in conduct lately that makes me think times could be changing.

We have a modern LG refrigerator. We got it at Best Buy following the death of our built in refrigerator, which would have been $7,000 to replace, based on it’s custom size. Since I’d rather shove perishables into and Igloo ice chest for the next decade than pay $7,000 for a new fridge, I bought a normal sized replacement and our handy man built shelves and cubicle areas around the thing, solving the pesky problem of the gaping holes around it. I’m a genius. Anyway, the new LG fridge has an ice maker slash water dispenser. You press one button for shaved ice, ice cubes and water and the trick is, you have to make your digital selection first. Aaron likes water, I like the ice. Aaron leaves the selector button on “water” which he KNOWS means I will cup my hands to get some ice for my tea and water will scream out of it and splash all over my shoe.

Next, I go outside and prepare to fill up the dog water dish with the hose I have used every stinking day for five years, and unbeknownst to me, Mr. Fausone disconnected the hose. I noticed the hose was disconnected only after the water shot out of the spigot with fire hose force such that water shot up my pant legs. This spigot is low to the ground so I had the added benefit of bending over when this atrocity occurred to ensure cold water blasted me in the face, too.

He swears this is coincidence and answers inquires with a manly retort such as “You read too much into things.” Then, he winks.


I’d really stick it to him about the recent soakings but he’s been a saint about all the pit bulls.

In pit bull news I have a fun video of Dolly, a 1-2 year old recently adopted female, used for litter after litter of puppies in a back yard breeder operation. Idiots buy dogs like this, breed them to death, then sell the puppies to more idiots for $250 each out of the newspaper. We need spay and neuter operations for dogs and for people. I hereby volunteer for Obama’s spot as NEUTER CZAR. Idiots beware - if I ever get that job, I’m coming for you. As for Dolly, she is on her third day of happiness, peace, love and kindness in a family of her own. I wish you a playful day.

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