Silicon Investor (SI) -- The First Internet Community

STOCKTALK

We've detected that you're using an ad content blocking browser plug-in or feature. Ads provide a critical source of revenue to the continued operation of Silicon Investor. We ask that you disable ad blocking while on Silicon Investor in the best interests of our community. If you are not using an ad blocker but are still receiving this message, make sure your browser's tracking protection is set to the 'standard' level.

Politics : Just the Facts, Ma'am: A Compendium of Liberal Fiction -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Sully- who wrote (72527)	6/23/2009 12:21:31 PM
From: Greg or e	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 90947

My most sincere condolences. It looks like she was a real sweetie.

To: Sully- who wrote (72527)	6/23/2009 1:26:14 PM
From: Carolyn	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 90947

Oh, no! Poor love!

To: Sully- who wrote (72527)	6/23/2009 3:53:46 PM
From: Bill	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 90947

Sorry to hear about this. She lived a long life. My condolences, Sul.

To: Sully- who wrote (72527)	6/25/2009 12:25:48 PM
From: FJB	3 Recommendations Respond to of 90947

A Dog's Purpose? (from a 6-year-old). Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle. I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home. As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience. The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker 's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away. The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, ''I know why.'' Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. It has changed the way I try to live. He said, ''People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life--like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?'' The six-year-old continued, "Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long.''

To: Sully- who wrote (72527)	8/13/2009 5:12:19 AM
From: Sully-	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 90947

Dogs Don’t Care about Dogma Innocent doggy goodness from kennel to grave. By Jonah Goldberg National Review Online My wife and I took our dog to the neurologist the other day. Yes, the neurologist. For a dog. I’m sure it sounds extravagant, but Cosmo had been having unexplained seizures, so we took him in for an MRI and a spinal tap after a batch of the normal, cheaper tests. He’s a handsome dog, but he’s built like an old East German car. When he was barely a year old, he came up lame in his front right leg. The vets had to cut the bone in two, insert a long metal pin, and then snap it all back in place. At the time, the surgeon suggested that we might avoid the expense by simply “returning” him to the animal shelter, which in canine terms would be like returning a dissident to North Korea. Since then, Coz has had surgeries on both of his back legs and a bunch of other, lesser procedures stemming from the rough-and-tumble of doggy life. We’ve stopped counting, but I’m sure we’ve spent more than the trade-in value of several cash-for-clunker Buicks. But despite all the hassle and expense, we never regret the expenditures. Now, given the debate in Washington, it’s at this point where I might be expected to pivot to some incisive — or perhaps insipid — argument about human-versus-animal medical care. After all, I understand why insurers wouldn’t cover Cosmo, given his many preexisting conditions. And while I firmly believe reformers could learn a lot from the world of animal medicine, where timely and effective services are provided without benefit of giant bureaucracies, that’s another column. More interesting to me is the reaction from liberals. As one friend put it: How does a staunch conservative end up taking his dog to the neurologist? Liberal bleeding hearts are supposed to do this sort of thing, not the hardhearted Scrooges of the Right. We like war and shooting fur-bearing creatures and cutting budgets for agencies that remove thorns from kittens’ paws. I understand the stereotype, and it surely exists for a reason. But the truth is that ideology has little to do with it. The wonderful thing about dogs — and yes, cats too, I suppose — is that they are beyond the reach of ideology. Not only does affection for dogs have no significant correlation to politics, but politics holds no interest whatsoever to dogs. Talk about health-care reform to Cosmo and he’ll tilt his head, yawn, and walk away just as quickly as he would if you opted to discuss the assassination of Trotsky or the Defenestration of Prague. But if you say the words “tennis ball” or “squirrel,” he will be utterly fascinated. And that’s what I love about dogs. They just don’t care about such things, and they encourage you not to care either — at least while you’re with them. You can’t say the same thing about children, because they grow up and inherit the society we leave behind. Being a good parent requires caring about politics. Dogs, meanwhile, keep their innocent doggy goodness from kennel to grave, obviating the need to explain to them why tax cuts are awesome. Dogs give us any number of amusements and comforts, but their greatest gift is to remind us that love and loyalty exist outside the ephemeral pieties of contemporary life. This is true for free marketers and Fabian socialists alike. Cosmo the Wonderdog is no stranger to mystery. Allegedly half-Australian cattle dog, half-Labrador, the truth is that we don’t know what he is. I simply say he’s a rich ethnic cocktail in the American tradition. We suspect he was abused as a puppy, because when we first got him, Cosmo saw me roll up a magazine to kill a bug and immediately ran out of the room in fear. To this day, if he sees a rolled up newspaper or magazine, he has the same response. And to this day, I routinely daydream about finding the jerk who hit my dog. The spinal tap required shaving a patch of fur from the back of Coz’s head; now he looks a bit like a furry Trappist monk. The results were good in that he doesn’t have a brain tumor and has no obvious infections, but we still don’t know what’s wrong with him. So how did a hard-core right-winger like me end up taking my dog to the neurologist? Because my dog needed one. — Jonah Goldberg is editor-at-large of National Review Online and the author of Liberal Fascism: The Secret History of the American Left from Mussolini to the Politics of Meaning. © 2009 Tribune Media Services, Inc. article.nationalreview.com