The Sad Part Of Living In The Woods

A sad entry today about a terrible incident that happened here this morning. First of all, I was still a bit depressed about my daughter and family leaving. That usually takes a week or so to recover from. And as I was outside performing some morning chores, thinking how much Hannah liked to help me with them when she was here, I heard a terrible noise coming from the woods behind the pond. Some animal crying out for help.

I had never heard that sound before, so I didn't know what it was, but I did know it was a cry of distress, and it wasn't in the distance either.

I picked up my walking stick that I like to carry with me when walking in the woods, and made sure my phone was in my pocket. Then, accompanied by my now barking little mop of a dog, Midgie, went running towards the sound, which had by then turned into screams of anguish.

As we reached the woods, I saw them. Two coyotes tearing at the flesh of a still living, but badly hurt young buck. I screamed at the coyotes and waved my stick, and at the same time ordered Midgie, who was about to go after the coyotes, to stay by me. I didn't want her to think she could chase the coyotes away on her own. You know how small dogs sometimes think of themselves as mighty dog.

Fortunately, my screeching and stick waving scared the coyotes off, and the young buck laid there, bloody but still alive. I wanted so badly to help him, but I knew there was nothing I could do for him.

With tears streaming down my face, I called our Game Warden, and could barely talk from the sobs that overtook me. He told me he'd be here in 15 or 20 minutes, and of course, he was.

When he arrived and we walked to the woods, I asked him to please wait until Midgie and I were back in the house before he did what he had to. But, of course, we heard the shot that finally put the young buck out of his misery.

Apparently, the buck had been shot by a hunter, but got away, and made it to my woods, somehow, until he collapsed, and was found by the coyotes.

So, I have felt quite sad all day, and thought finally, maybe if I write about the incident, I will feel some relief. Nature is beautiful but cruel at the same time.

Lord forgive me for thinking badly of hunters and hunting. I know it's necessary, but at this moment, there is hate in my heart!

I Blame It All On Spam!

Yesterday started out as a pretty good day. I did a little of this and that, exchanged emails with a writer friend, and with my daughter, spent some time outside, enjoying the light rain falling, came inside again and checked my email. After all, by then at least an hour had gone by since I had last checked it. A lot of emails can come in during the course of an hour. And guess what? There was a lot of email, most of it nasty spam, trying to sell me all kinds of wonder drugs, (that shall remain nameless,) to cure what ails me, and I'm not even a man! I HATE SPAM!

But wonder of wonders, there among all that spam was an email from Teri P. of Chicken Soup for the Soul, with an attachment. That meant there was a permission agreement to be signed and faxed back to them, for another Chicken Soup for the Soul Book. This one for Chicken Soup for the Soul, Celebrating People Who Make a Difference in the Lives of Others.

Now any writer who has gone through the submission process for a Chicken Soup book, knows the process. Stories are first read and rated by designated readers. Then the highest rated stories are passed on to more readers. Finally, a certain number of the highest rated stories are the finalists. At that point, Chicken Soup sends out an email informing the writer he/she is a finalist, and to please print, sign and fax back the agreement by the set date. Woo Hoo, I was a finalist again, and with a little more luck, this latest story would make it into the book.

However, I decided to dilly dally and get back to the email in the next day or so. I had nice Sunday plans, so Monday would be a good day to take care of the business of important emails from Chicken Soup for the Soul.

Meanwhile, more spam arrived that I kept deleting, and deleting, and when later I looked for the email from Chicken Soup, it was gone! Vanished into cyber space, no doubt with the spam I had so dilligently deleted! Oh my gosh, what would I do now? My evening was ruined, my Sunday would be spent worrying, my life as a writer was in jeopardy, (well, a little drama here!) and it was all because of the darn spam! I HATE SPAM!

I tried to find out if I could somehow un-delete a deleted email. But no such luck for this tech dummy. Finally, I searched my address book and found the email address for D'ette C. I worked with her on the last two Chicken Soup books. Maybe, just maybe she could help me. So, last night I emailed D'ette, apologizing profusely for bothering her, explaining my situation, and begging her to help me, if she was able to. And guess what? A little while ago, D'ette replied, telling me it was no bother, and they were always glad to help their contributors, in any way they could. And I now have Teri's email, and sent her an apologetic letter explaining to her what had happened, and asked her if she could re-send the information and contract/permission agreemnent. Hopefully, I will hear from Teri by tomorrow, and can finally complete the process as a finalist for the new Chicken Soup for the Soul, Celebrating People Who Make a Difference in the Lives of Others. Meanwhile, I'm keeping my fingers crossed! Whew, a long rant, but I'm glad I got it off my chest. Wish me luck! And did I tell you that I HATE SPAM?

Post Script: Monday morning, Sept. 10th--The email from Teri Paluso just came in. I'm back in business!