Oh My God I’m Putting on My Advocacy Hat Again

It’s funny, as soon as I voted in the municipal election and got the idea that this should be available at provincial and federal elections, another voice in my head said, “You know it won’t be easy, don’t you?” and it was right.

I called Elections Ontario today, since we’re having an election in October. I asked who I should talk to about asking if it’s possible to have an audible voting machine at the polls on voting days like the municipality of Guelph did. If you listen very closely, right after that, you can hear my head slamming into a thick rock wall. The response was, “We’re only going to do paper ballots. It’s legislated. To change that, we’d have to pass a bill in the legislature.” I asked her why and she couldn’t explain it to me. She just told me to call my MPP, which I’m going to do. If others care about this like I do, I urge them to call and write their local MPP. You can find a list of their local offices here. If you don’t know who your MPP is, call elections Ontario at 1-800-677-8683 and ask them. Give them your postal code and they can provide you with their name and number.

If anyone has any luck getting their MPP’s attention, but the MPP says they wouldn’t have the foggiest idea about who they should contact about getting such a machine if they passed the bill, here is the contact info for the company from which Guelph leased its voting machines that worked so well:

DVS Corporation
20 Mowat Ave. Suite 100
Toronto, ON M6K 3E8
Tel: 416-762-8683 x225
Fax: 416-762-8663
www.dominionVoting.ca

I’m not holding out a lot of hope, but we can at least try, and if enough of us say something, maybe something will happen. Maybe? Possibly? I’m not so naive as I used to be years ago, but there is at least a glimmer of hope.

Ha ha ha ha ha!

You know what happens when you park your car in front of an on-coming train in hopes of killing your girlfriend? you die, and she survives!

Thankfully, no one else was hurt, but apparently some flying metal messed up a truck. All I can think is, what an idiot! How bad could he have been fighting that he wanted to kill his girlfriend? Oh, and I also can’t help but think “good riddance.”

Dear Little Children in Our Building:

I used to like listening to you laugh and shriek and scream. I used to think it was pretty cool that you all had a place to play right outside your door. Now, the sound of your voices fills me with dread. Why? Because when I take Trixie to do her business, you won’t leave me alone!

I picked a spot that was kind of enclosed between two bushes. I picked it because I thought it would be out of the way and it would leave the big grassy area open for you kids to play in. But now you have decided that you want to play in *those* bushes.

I don’t even mind that you play in there. But you stay quiet until I’m right up on you, taking the harness off and extending her leash. then you all shriek “She can’t poo here!” I know you’re the kids and I’m the adult, so I try to explain that I won’t be long and I’ll pick it all up, and I try to explain that the building manager doesn’t want her pooping on someone’s front lawn, but of course that goes over your heads. You’re kids, what do you care? You just keep shrieking. By this point, I have made her leash long and she’s starting to circle, so it’s hard to change spots.

In the early days, I used to ask you if I could borrow your spot for a second so she could go to the bathroom. You would say yes, then follow me up there with her, chase her around and try to pet her. Can you give her a moment of privacy, please? She’s going to the bathroom! The funniest thing you did was run up to her and yell eeewww! right after I told you she was about to drop a poop bomb. “She’s pooping, she’s pooping!” you cried, immediatley followed by “You’re picking it up!” Well what else am I supposed to do? Maybe what threw you off was the fact that the plastic bag I put on my hand was clear so it looked like I was picking up the gifts in my bare hands.

And this is a small thing. Can you plese not litter? If you decide to camp out in the bushes with popsickles and pop, can you take the popsickle sticks and pop cans away when you leave? They are too much temptation for the Trixter, and…it’s just not nice to litter!

I’m sure we can work this out and get along, I mean, you’re cute and all. So, either tell me you’re in the bushes when you see me coming, or let me have them for a few minutes. Then you can have them back, I promise! And plese stop petting Trixie when she’s…occupied if you will. If you want, back off a bit and stick around until we’re done. Then I’ll let you pet her.

Thanks in advance,

Carin and Trixie

Trixie’s Brain

Trixie speaks
So this is home now? Ok. I miss my yellow lab friend, but since there are no dogs around, I guess this guy will have to do. He’s interesting. Sometimes, I sit near his chair and watch wrestling with him. He sure doesn’t like it when I try to get up close and personal. Why not? I just wanna be his friend!

That thing that opens and takes us to the lobby, what does she call it, an elevator? Yeah, that’s it. It smells interesting. But Carin’s such a drag. She always tells me to sit and not to sniff. But it has so many stories to tell! Who has ridden in it recently? Do they smoke? Do they wear too much perfume? But some days, I just don’t want to sniff. It makes me sneeze. What’s that sound Carin does when I sneeze? I think it’s “Shuhkh!” Is she making fun of me? If only I could imitate her ridiculous sneezes. Oh well, all I can do is wack her with my tail.

Don’t mess with the furniture around here! I was walking around and a couch attacked me! They keep telling me it’s because of that long leash thing and me winding it around the couch, but even though that scared the hel out of me, after that, Carin doesn’t keep me tied to her anymore! Ah freedom! But I don’t mess with them, or Carin puts me on tie-down lickety split.

How come there’s a big water bowl that I’m not allowed to drink out of? It’s huge. They wouldn’t miss it if I took a lick. But every time I try, I’m yelled at and they slam a lid over it. Gees! Greedy bastards, are they that desperate for water?

Eeewww! They just did their business in the big water bowl! Sick people, at least I don’t dirty good water like that. I do mine where it belongs, on the grass!

Man humans are stupid. Every time I hear that thing I want to tell them about, I bark. But they tell me to be quiet. If only I could speak English. Then I could just tell them what it is I want to say. But all I can do is bark and hope they get it. It’s so simple! Can’t they hear that thing? Smell it? Come on! I can, why can’t they? Some day, they’ll understand me, and they’ll appreciate my barking. Then they’ll regret telling me to shut up.

Some of those little humans need to back off. When I’m doing my business, they try and pet me. Come on! Would they like it if I watched them do their business?

So far, I’ve met two hot boy doggies. They wear that harness thingy like I do. Cool! Comrades! They’re old though. They’re old enough to be my grandfather! Is it wrong that I want to check them out?

Why do they get better food than I do? Every morning and night, it’s kibble, kibble, kibble! But they eat different things. Cool things. Neat-smelling things. And then they get mad when I want a piece of the action! No fair! What really wasn’t fair was when Carin made me walk through a whole big building full of these cool things. What did she call it…the grocery store? But I was working. No sniffing, no licking, nothing. Work work work.

You know what’s funny? If I sit down and Carin sits beside me on the floor, I’m taller than her! Na na na na na, na!

What kind of hell place do they live in? I risk my life just standing at the corner. These huge vehicles drive by, almost taking off my head, and Carin just stands there mumbling something about me being a good girl like some kind of neanderthal. I didn’t sign up for this!

Hmmm I think it’s dinner time. Maybe if I come and bug Carin enough, she’ll feed me early. Mmm kibble.

So How’s Trixie Doing Anyway?

I know there are some people who come to the blog for Trixie updates. I’ve been emailed by a few of them asking for updates on how Trixie is doing. So here’s the first of a few Trixie-related posts.

I think my knee is finally completely healed. I think Trixie is thrilled to be able to motor at full speed. We walked almost all the way downtown, which is almost 2 miles with no ill effects, so I think the knee is finally better.

You know all that stuff about Trixie being an angel? Well, now that she’s gotten to feel more at home, she is less so. Jon can start laughing now. Every time we finish eating, she comes over to where we’ve been, hoping we’ve left her something. She used to stay out of the kitchen. Now, she’s just way too curious. She’s found herself tied down when we’re making food, just to keep her out of trouble.

I’ve found out that thunder storms and fireworks scare the hell out of her. She’ll sit there shaking and panting. They say not to give her any extra attention when she’s scared because then you’re feeding her fears. But it’s really hard to just let her sit there shivering in the corner. I’ve tried getting her to play with toys, but she’ll have none of it. So I just let her shiver. Yep, I’m a heartless bitch. Any suggestions on how to get a dog over fears of things that go boom?

I swear she’s learning the English language! The other day, I randomly said, “Let’s booggy!” and she sped up drastically! I had to laugh. She’s a really smart pooch.

Sometimes, she just does adorable things. Like one day, Steve had just finished eating some Doritos chips, the new Tandoori-flavoured ones, and she licked his hand. This made her snort, fall over, sneeze, and then try to come back for more! Crazy dog!

We’ve started calling her Visa. Why? Because she’s everywhere we want to be. We take a step in one direction, and almost trip over Trixie. Silly girl. I swear she’s not going to know what her name is because I have a list of nicknames for her that is a mile long.

She’s doing really well. It’s really funny to watch her after we’ve been on a long route. She jumps around after we get home, so happy to be home, almost proud of the work she’s done. She’s a great puppy, and she definitely makes life interesting. Never a dull moment with the Trixter, that’s for sure.

Little Girl, Big Trouble

Well, it appears some other people think the same way I do about Ashley’s story.

Taken from the Guelph Mercury.

Hospital admits breaking law in sterilizing girl

SEATTLE (May 10, 2007)

A hospital has acknowledged breaking state law when doctors performed a hysterectomy on a severely developmentally disabled girl whose growth was medically stunted to make caring for her easier for her parents.

Sterilization surgeries must not be performed on children without a court order, Children’s Hospital and Regional Medical Center acknowledged Tuesday after an investigation by the state Protection and Advocacy System.

The hospital also agreed to appoint “someone with a disability rights perspective” to its ethics committee.

The girl, identified only as Ashley, underwent surgery in 2004, when she was six, to remove her uterus and breast tissue, and she was given growth-stunting hormones. The hospital’s ethics committee supported the treatment but noted that court review would be required. A lawyer for the girl’s parents disagreed, saying the state law did not apply in Ashley’s case, and the hospital performed the procedures without court permission.

All I can say is, good!

I’m Pissed Off, So Now You’re Getting Pissed On

I’m sharing this because for some reason I find it really funny.

A Japanese man upset that the view from his apartment had been blocked by a house built nearby has been charged with damaging a structure because his protest method of choice involved dousing the home with urine at least 169 times.

Nishizaki urinated into bottles or pots and poured it on the outer wall of the neighboring house and over one of its outdoor air conditioning units from his apartment on at least 169 occasions between Feb. 17 this year and Monday this week, local police said. On one day, he stained the neighbor’s home nine times.

The victim was forced to replace part of the outer wall and suffered 650,000 [yen] in losses.

Nishizaki reportedly began to stain the neighboring home with his urine immediately after it was build in November 2004, investigators said.

The owner of the house protested to Nishizaki, but the suspect denied the allegations. The victim then filmed Nishizaki pouring his urine on the house and showed the footage to local police in late April, which led to his arrest.

The full article can be found here.

Welcome to Wal-Mart, How Can I Sort of Help You?

I’ve been meaning to write about this since, hmm, when? When I got back from guide dog school? Or was it before that? I know I was with mom getting stuff at Wal-Mart. Anyway, here goes. We’re getting stuff at Wal-Mart, like I said, and mom decides to go through one of these funky-doodle self-checkout units. They have the basket and you scan the stuff through yourself, pay, and out ya go, without bothering a single cashier. I never cared about these things much, I actually found them rather creepy, since they could potentially end up everywhere, cutting cashiers’ jobs, and I really don’t feel like dealing with more automation.

But I was watching mom putting stuff through, and I got a little bit intrigued. First, it spoke! This fascinated me. I wondered how much thought Wal-Mart had put into these things, and wondered if they were overdue for a thank you letter, just like TD Canada Trust for their talking bank machines. I watched, paying close attention to the machine. It said when you were supposed to place your items in the basket, it spoke the price of each item, it told you if an item didn’t scan, I was impressed! That is, until it was time to pay! Then, it said, “Please complete the pin process.” and stopped speaking. Hey chief, where’d your helpful voice go? This is the most important part of the process! It wouldn’t have to speak the pin number, but it could have spoken everything else!

My poor mom became quickly mortified as I started complaining about the machine. I started asking her what sense it made to make a machine talk half the process. The voice mustn’t have been there for accessibility reasons. It must have been there to create the illusion of dealing with a real cashier. Well, if you want to deal with a real live human being, just go over there, there are several real cashiers ready to serve you, and probably happier that you’re standing at their till than using a machine. Ug it makes my head spin.

I really shouldn’t complain, I probably wouldn’t be able to use the thing anyway, and wouldn’t necessarily want to, but the idea of giving something a voice just for decoration bugs me. Maybe it’s because people will look at that and say, “Look at Wal-Mart! They’re taking leaps so the blind can use these machines!” when that isn’t even on Wal-mart’s mind. Plus, I just like to point out when things don’t make sense, and this one definitely doesn’t make sense to me.

Randomness Ahoy

There were a few things floating through my head, so I figured I’d write them down together in a random thought stew.

Here’s a lesson I had to learn the hard way. Hopefully others can learn from my stupidity. Never! ever! give! to! charities! who! phone! you!

I gave to one charity who phoned. It was legitimate, nothing got stolen. But here’s where it gets fun. They put you on their sucker phone list, and all the other charities start phoning, acting like you’ve given to them before, and asking for ridiculous sums of money. Here’s how I know they have me specifically on their list. When they call, they ask for me. My name isn’t in the phone book with our number!

I was stupid once, now we’re paying for it with the deluge of charity telemarketers and their guilt-laiden scripts. “Think of the children with their burned little bodies/cancer laiden little bodies/otherwise suffering littel bodies!” I love how they all start out. “The most common donation is $150…or you could give $75, that is certainly good…or what is more common is $20.” Wait wait wait, hold the telemarketing headset! I thought you said $150 was the most common. You lying scumbags. I know about psychology. I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to start out high so that $20 seems more appealing and I’m more likely to give that because it’s a hell of a lot more affordable than $150. Because of that, and because you’re hastling me, you get $0.

I also love this little line. “We can send you an invoice and you can take your time on deciding how much to give. But our computers can’t send out blank invoices, so how much will it be?” Click, buzz! “hello?”

Now I sound like an asshole. But I can’t stand telemarketers, and often, the worst kind are the ones for charities. Why oh why did I make that one mistake? One lapse in judgment, andI doomed myself!

Here’s a stupid idea. On a few crime shows,they say at the end, “The names of the victims have been changed to protect the innocent. The names of the guilty are real.” Why bother? In this day and age, if you give me the name of the guilty, I can just google him and get the real names of the victims. this stuff is public record! Why change half the names? Either change them all, or leave the real names in.

I was watching TV the other day, and I saw a commercial for the Herzig Eye Institute, and couldn’t help but think that sometimes it sounds like they’re saying the Hurts a Guy Institute. Does anyone else hear this?

Damn it! I must be getting old! I could swear there was a fourth thing I wanted to write about, but it has escaped me. Hopefully I think of it some day and it can get its own post. That wasn’t much of a stew, was it?