Friday, July 3, 2009

Three Hundred and Forty-four Days

Brindi, my sweetheart, the love of my life
When they took you to prison it cut like a knife.
What could you have done to be locked up so long - 
Three Hundred and forty-four days you've been gone.
The walls that surround you, stones heavy on my heart,
Your breath I can feel from sunlight to dark.

I miss you like the air I can hardly breathe,
Three hundred and forty-four days I have grieved.
I beg and I plead yet for your release
Back into my arms so we both can find peace,
Walk together again in joy, far and wide.
Still those coldhearted walls keep you imprisoned inside.

My Brindi, my angel, I will not let you go
Your name is engraved on my soul, as you know.
I will shout your story for all to see
Three hundred forty-four days: cease counting and be
The answer to the question good people demand
Why is Brindi not back in my arms, on my land.

“Bring Brindi home!” shall be writ in the sky.
No prison can silence this message, I cry!
Three Hundred and forty-four days, far too long;
Come home sweet Brindi, to where you belong!
Sweet kisses and hugs, we must have them back:
My Brindi, my sweetheart, our souls under attack.
Without you my Brindi, without you my love,
Three hundred forty-four nights, no moon of hope above.

May the waves of devotion you send to me
forge a key with my love that will set you free,
I pray to the heavens this summer’s eve.
Brindi, I promise, you never to leave,
You'll be back with me and on the beach we will run,
Tomorrow's yesterdays have already begun.
Three hundred forty-four days - now, let them be done!

May God bring Brindi home, where she belongs!

With love to you and Brindi
from Carol Henderson

New Tag with St. Francis and the Pope

The St. Francis medal that I put on Brindi's collar in April broke off soon afterwards, sadly. It probably got worn down by the chain I wore it on around my own neck, for the nearly ten months I wasn't allowed to see Brindi. I looked and looked, but could not find a sturdier replacement. The practical solution was to make Brindi's new license tag, which I got a while ago, into a St. Francis medal, by having it engraved.

As my weekly Wednesday visit was postponed, due to Canada Day, I put her new tag on her collar today. The numbered side says her name, and on the reverse, "Holy St. Francis, Bless & Protect Me."

Oh, and by the way: this is a license for a spayed adult dog, i.e., a normal license. It cost $15, if I recall correctly. Why mention this? Well, according to By-Law A300, all dangerous dogs (as declared by an animal control officer or a judge) must be entered into the municipal registry.
It seems the city has not classified Brindi in its "dangerous" registration category, all efforts to kill her notwithstanding.  Had they entered Brindi into this category, I would have been charged $100 for her license. It is up to the city to do this; all I did was follow the instructions to renew Brindi's registration. The rest was up to them.

So, two very interesting questions come up. First, since she is not classified as dangerous, why is she is she still in the pound, slated to die? It would be a bit late, if not embarrassing, for HRM to re-classify her now, seeing as I just pointed it out to them. 

But, even if they were to do this, the very existence of an HRM license for dangerous dogs indicates that it is possible to legally own a dangerous dog in HRM (doubtless with certain conditions). So the logical conclusion is that HRM does not automatically kill all dogs deemed dangerous. The second question is, if Brindi were classified and licensed as dangerous, why is she still in the pound, slated to die?

The fact is, I was told to renew her license and I did so without any problem. I have no idea how this was possible given HRM's insistence that she is dangerous, not to mention the prosecution's insistence on euthanization.

I can only keep praying that St. Francis will bestow Brindi his protection, to match the inscription on her "normal dog" license. Maybe, just maybe, with that noble saint's guidance, all the contradictions arising from A300 will cancel themselves out, and my dog can finally come home, before a year is over. The time is running out: July 24 approaches fast. 

Brown Eyes

I saw brown eyes that twinkle so bright
Realized in an instant, they are why we fight
They have no savings, no interest in stocks
Just running amuck with my new white socks

Barking and playing, their spirits free
Money? That question belongs to me
Would I give them up for a big screen TV
Or walk away from them for the wealth I see?

Brown eyes, little paws and a soft fur coat
Rather a stroke and a pat, than a big fancy boat
Cuddles, kisses, and a lifetime of love
I think this is wealth sent down from above

These treasures I have, so priceless and good
Turned my attention to what is best understood
You can't take it with you and never can,
Best stay with your friends and keep making that stand
To fight for their freedom and never give up
I'd rather stay broke than give up these Pups

So when time seem hard and the bills pour in
There's plenty of room in that old rusty bin
I saw brown eyes and all I can do is grin
This precious work is worth more than that diamond ring

I have wealth abundant just not in an account
Surrounding me daily, best friends on whom I can count
Extreme joy, laughter, and a whole lot of love
Brown eyes, heavenly pennies, from heaven above
I have riches forever, brown eyes, you're so loved!

sent to me, and written, by Carol Bowman Henderson, of New Mexico
posted with her permission. See her beautiful video about death row dogs here.

"Anytime we allow ourselves to be bullied, every time we pass by an evil and ignore it - we lower our standards and allow our world to be made that much harsher and unjust for us all." - Public Advisory, Free Gaza, June 25, 2009