I find it really difficult to write about Sway. I’m not sure why. I think it may be because whatever I do write, I have this fear or this belief that it will just never be able to do her justice. To be clear, it won’t. There’s nothing that I could write that could ultimately do her justice, and with that, the concept of trying has left this wake of procrastination that’s kind of stalled numerous ideas and plagued requests that have come in about her from other people. But I also can’t carry that around, that need to live up to this ever-escalating vision of what she deserves, and not try to be vulnerable about how having her as such an important stalwart in my life was an absolutely priceless thing. She was incredible. Both incredible in general and incredible for me, to me, to my life.

It’s often these same conflicts that arise when I speak about her to other people, if they ask me in person or what have you. I rarely let myself go there, so to them it may come off as more of a canned response that leaves them kind of confused. I don’t know. One thing about me is that I kind of have a reputation for being outspoken and opinionated and raw, and vulnerable. But the loss of Sway throws a wrench into all of that. Point is, my emotions are heavily invested and have been interwoven amongst all of my memories that I carry in my mind. That’s all that I have. It’s quite tough to try to unpack my thoughts and this post may read awkwardly or come off as being all over the map. But instead of not saying anything I want to say some of these things that are in my head.

I physically lost Sway 5 years ago today. Sometimes it feels like yesterday, sometimes it feels so far in the past that I can’t even remember. Both thoughts are scary. Feeling like whatever wounds haven’t even scabbed is scary. Feeling like I have no scabs, like I have no scars, like I forgot something, and thus worrying how much more I’m going to come to forget, is just as scary.

No bullshit, I cannot watch the video that I made of her, the one that sits at the top of the right column of my website, without absolutely losing it. That doesn’t stop me from watching it. I usually watch it really late at night, and my reaction is silent, but it is a massive reaction, and still. I also cannot listen to those songs, even though they are some of my favorite songs, without gazing out of whatever window is nearby and deeply missing her. To be totally honest, I cannot even write what I just wrote without crying. This is the weird thing. After losing Sway I became more hardened in a sense that I cried less. I’m a sensitive person and somebody who isn’t scared to show my emotions, but for years after losing Sway it was damn near only the topic of her that could make me cry. My work in and around shelters, and the bonds with the shelter dogs, brings with it some really difficult pain. As much as I cried for those incredible dogs with the slanted fates, and still do, I could’ve cried triple. It’s like you power on through. Same goes for the non-dog-related issues of life in general, and there’s plenty of that to cry about, but my bond with Sway has this unique way of always cutting through. And that’s the odd thing, even now, that it’s like a faucet of immediacy. I miss her so much. For example, when I was last back home I had asked my mom to sit down and talk about Sway on video. I had a few questions for her and I sat behind my camera and asked them. I was watching her eyes well up with tears because she was seeing my eyes well up with tears. Rather quickly I literally couldn’t breathe because I was sobbing from how much I missed my dog.

How does this happen? It’s been 5 years, right? I’d just say that it speaks quite loudly to the connection between a dog and their person. What else can it say? That I’m crazy or unstable? I’m not. That I love animals more than people? I don’t. It simply states that dogs are extremely important to most folks, that they have a gentle and subtle power about them, and that their relationships with their people are not to be taken for granted or made to seem unimportant. And no matter what breed or mixed breed they might be!

But to keep going, a little over 2 years after Sway passed away I wrote an article for StubbyDog about grief. It’s still very tough for me to read. I’m very proud of what I wrote, but this grief does remain in part. It’s changed, I’ve come a long way with it, I’ve tried to turn it into many positive things, and that’s all that you can do. I imagine that it will always be tough. But love does give you the strength to always keep trying, to always try to find a way to make a difference, and love will always be the light at the end of the tunnel when you are having a really bad day. My dog certainly helped teach me that, and I’d say that that’s a pretty instrumental lesson to learn.

Speaking of bad days, I’ve had a lot of those lately. My life is in a different place than it was 5 years ago, and I’ve really expended a lot of energy trying to do all that I can do on the dog-related issues. Many other areas of my life have changed, some efforts have taken back seats to others, and this world keeps going full speed ahead regardless. I hope that my choices do make a continued difference, and will be something that will eventually propel me to a better place of comfort. It’s tough TRYING TO DO the good and the right instead of the passive or the easy. We all fail at times. I just know that with my own life I want to be able to continue to follow my passions and not have them be tossed into a ditch. It’s doubly tough to compartmentalize whatever efforts you are making and not have the consequences of those efforts trickle into your day-to-day unrelated life. But I only want that comfort if it comes aligned with doing the good and the right. To avoid having turmoil erupt while trying not to stray from that premise is an equally difficult thing to try and maneuver. So amidst the turmoil I often think back to my life with Sway, before all of the advocacy and becoming really tuned in with what goes on, and I wish that I could just lay down on the couch with her or go to the beach and watch her chase her football around. That would certainly lift my spirits.

To close, I couldn’t even fathom being deprived of having Sway in my life. That would’ve been such a shame. I am so grateful that we crossed paths and that she was able to live out her life as a loved dog and not anything less than that. Sway was a dog, and an amazing one at that. She was a great friend to our family cat Rufus and a great friend to my nephew Jaelon. She was a conduit for a personal experience, a changer of minds, an integral part of our family unit, loved by many, and my absolute shadow and friend. Those are the facts. No one can change that.

It breaks my heart that there are actually entities out there that make it their obsessive objective to render these dogs as caricatures of the worst possible thing imaginable. This aims to disregard and end connections like the one that I’ve had, and this is happening every single day. They do these things while ignoring all of the rules of the universe, the golden rule, the concepts of freedom and individualism, and the power of love. To wade through that delusional hate is a tough ask in any number of ways. It absolutely can challenge your senses. But at the end of the day it’s an easy choice to make because they are wrong.

I remember holding a picture of Sway up to the Pasadena City Council on the first night that I spoke in front of them, asking them not to scapegoat dogs that they will never know. Telling them how important she was to my life. Simply telling them that she existed. She was not a stereotype, nor was she a soundbyte, nor was she a news headline. She was a wonderful dog that lived a loving life and made a positive and multifaceted impact on the universe. The news normally doesn’t want to cover that kind of thing. But if for some reason they ever did, lord knows there’s enough examples out there for them to choose from.

Sometimes natural happenings are just too rich to describe with just words… We are less than 2 weeks away from the latest BSL-related Pasadena City Council meeting, which have (up to this point) mainly centered around the Pit Bull targeting desires of authoritarian Steve Madison, and I just happened to notice a rather pertinent quote that was planted directly on the corner of Madison Ave. (anti-Pit Bull discriminator Steve Madison) and Colorado Blvd. (Colorado being the home to the city of Denver, which has the country’s most infamous Pit Bull ban). This is mere blocks away from the Pasadena City Hall…

This past week I was fortunate enough to sit in on a Town Hall meeting about poverty that was hosted by Tavis Smiley. He brought in 5 different panelists and there was some really interesting information shared all around. Smiley is someone who comes at issues in a very genuine way and can take part in a dialogue at any time, no matter the party affiliation or differences in opinion of those that he may be talking with. That’s a great quality. In my eyes we seem to learn the most when there is a kind of friction of ideas, and the working through of those ideas, instead of just some lauded person being surrounded by his or her yes-men.

Poverty. What does it look like? What manifests out of it? These are extremely crucial elements and to attempt to solve anything you damn well need to attempt to account for these realities. I’m all for personal responsibility but there is also a thin line that surrounds this concept. We really need to be careful not to turn “personal responsibility” into a soundbite that just comes out in the form of a standard defense mechanism. Meaning, we cannot just flippantly condemn poor people for not taking responsibility if they were only given very few options that would ever pass for “responsible” in the first place. Our lives are all not the same. Each of us live very dynamic lives and it would be the kind thing to do if we could empathize with another person prior to moving to criticize them. By any standard I’m financially poor myself, but I also know that I’m better off than certain folks as well… If not in direct funds available then at least in direct support from engaged family and/or friends. I’m a lucky person, regardless of my real financial hardships that I do face. So with all of that, when I’m down I hope that I’m not kicked, and it’s because of that rule that I really try not to kick others.

What we find ourselves in the middle of today is that less than 1% of our country’s population owns over 40% of the nation’s wealth. A little over 400 individual people in America have a totality of wealth that is equivalent to the bottom 150 million people! 150 million people is half of the country. That half of the country is in or near poverty. This is data taken directly from the United States Census Bureau. By “near” they mean a couple of paychecks away… To give further context to this topic, we need to look at how arcane and out of touch the actual poverty level is ($23,000 for a family of 4), when aligned with living in certain areas of today’s United States. That whole thing might need some updating. Yet this debate, if there ever even is a debate, is always framed to seem like this only affects a small portion of us, as if it’s not relatable and thus not worth making a fuss over. That’s not okay.

For instance, Smiley talked about how nearly 30% of the Californians who are officially living in poverty actually live in Los Angeles County. They matter, their pets matter. We should be showing them support and not indifference or condemnation. This was a great quote that I wanted to include…

It used to be that in California what we did in public policy either cast a long shadow or a long sunbeam across the nation. It used to cast a long sunbeam. So much of what we are doing now is casting a long shadow across the country.

Here’s some pertinent statements from Marqueece Harris-Dawson of Community Coalition…

You look at a community like South Los Angeles. The number 1 employer is the school districts, the city, and the county, and in that order. All of those institutions, for the last 10 or 15 years, they’ve hired virtually no one.

So historically we have an income support system called welfare, and then we stopped that and we said now you have to go to work, except at the same time what we’ve done is that we’ve allowed companies to hire workers and then pay them in a way where government still has to subsidize that family.

We have this idea that we’ve let creep into our government that is actually very dangerous: Every work/job has to be worth more than what we are paying the worker. As long as you have that as an ideal, especially as the rate of profit goes down and down and down, you’ll have a situation where people will be working for things hardly called wages.

^Working may no longer be enough to raise certain people out of poverty. That is a problem. The lack of a living wage. Does that explain everybody or everything? Hell no. But if you think that that isn’t a current reality for some folks out there then you are kind of fooling yourself.

This came from Jonathan Fielding, director of the Public Health Department for L.A. County…

Poverty is a universal poison. We think of lead poison as bad in such a way. Poverty is an environmental poison. It’s a poison for everybody, because if you look at the impact of this poison it equates to higher healthcare costs, higher welfare payments, higher unemployment insurance. It’s causing a tax on everybody else, and so you should feel as though you have skin in the game. Why is the average life expectancy 85 in Brentwood and only 72.8 in Watts, which is just 20 minutes across town?

Well, there’s definitely a connection to poverty and poor health, just like there’s a connection to poverty and crime, just like there’s a connection to poverty and incarceration, and just like there’s a connection to poverty and how someone may treat an animal. That’s not to excuse any of it, just to point out that there’s a connection. At what level? I don’t know, but you can’t just pretend that it doesn’t matter. That’s also not to say or imply that people living in extreme poverty are guilty of any of those crimes. Not at all. But with less options and limited choices comes a higher rate of bad decisions. Poverty isn’t just about people being “poor,” and then allowing that characterization to so easily go in 1 ear and out the other. Poverty can permeate all aspects of a person’s life. It can lead to very legitimate suffering in a bevy of different ways. Many times it is a life and death situation, absolutely. Sometimes these issues are so multifaceted that we don’t even know where to start. But the point is that you have to start. We need more people willing to engage within this conversation. This is a “caring” issue. It is not a 1-stop shop, nor does 1 size fit all. Yet most of the really wild judgment that you will see will come directly out of that ideology. It’s important to make fundamental shifts in the rhetoric, because if all you are going to do is speak about groups of people in this negative and broad fashion then all you are going to end up accomplishing is alienating a lot of people that you don’t even know.

I’ve saw animal-related issues and the many purported solutions to some of those issues directly intersect with poverty, lack of education, and lack of access. If you want to solve these problems then you cannot ignore or condescend this issue. As I learn I’ve tried to include what I’ve learned into my writings. Many times I learn by directly seeing it play out in front of my face. When these topics are touched on there is oftentimes a heavy level of judgment that comes out of the woodwork. I think my first dose of being directly thrown into this kind of a fire/backlash was when I tried to partially defend a man who had his home raided by Scotlund Haisley and Animal Rescue Corps. It’s a whole new world when emotions come unhinged. Aside from that, being the moderator of my SwayLove Facebook page (and just being on Facebook in general) I see all kinds of random commentary that falls into this wheelhouse of outrageous judgement, and in December I wrote about it in a way that took on the hypocrisy of being an advocate for a portion of something while you are out possibly being really cruel to another portion of something else. Then there was the online fallout behind the Karma Rescue fiasco, which saw someone’s dog get rehomed after its owner came forward to try and get her dog back. Do you fight BSL (breed-specific legislation)? Well, if you do then you will find these many issues front and center alongside any desire to profile or target certain dogs, because the profiling goes beyond the dogs. And in May a bunch of us met with and witnessed the testimonies of many good-hearted folks who are trying to do the right thing but are coming up against a backwards mechanism that directly feeds off of this problem.

Poverty. Are we all becoming desensitized to this topic due to an utter lack of coverage on this topic? Quite possibly. A recent study from FAIR shows that over a 14-month period (1/2013-2/2014) “an average of just 2.7 seconds per 22-minute nightly news program was devoted to segments where poverty was mentioned.” Yikes. But this isn’t just a recent failure, this is a failure that simply continues to extend into our present lives. Did you know that it had been more than 50 years since a presidential debate had even asked a single question to any of the candidates about poverty? It only became a minimal focus in 2012 because of the leaked Mitt Romney video that showed him making his claim about the 47%. It’s never on any agenda. Very few in the mainstream media ever focus on it or even talk about it at all (and I say “mainstream media” because they’re the ones that formulate the most plastered messaging).

There’s a lot of stigma attached to poverty as well. Many people would probably rather not even admit that they are in it. Can you blame folks for not wanting to self-identify or acknowledge that they’re in dire need of help? Pride is part of the human condition. That, along with the demonization aspect of being called (or treated as if you are) “lazy” or worse. But knowing how much this issue may touch our own lives, and definitely people that we know, it should then be an issue that is ultimately able to galvanize lots of support instead of being something that splinters people and makes them feel ashamed.

More from Marqueece Harris-Dawson…

When people are living in poverty the choices that they end up making are really shaped by the choices that they have. A lot of times it’s not a lack of will or motivation but because of structural barriers that cause lack of opportunity and lack of investment in our neighborhoods and in our young people and their future.

^So very true. Someone’s socioeconomic status is of incredible importance. What kind of education do people have access to? What are their employment options? Will it pay a decent wage? What resources are present in their community? Is it safe? Does it have healthy food? What is the level of social neglect or police surveillance? Is there ample access to parks and playgrounds and churches and hospitals and grocery/drug stores? These are all factors that matter.

What are some more solutions, both in the bigger context of poverty and what we could take for the more focused realm of animal-related issues?

These are 2 differing thoughts from Tavis Smiley…

Wall Street has helped get us into this mess, Wall Street can help get us out. How? It’s very simple. It’s a small tax on every financial transaction that is done. Wall Street doesn’t produce products, they produce deals.

The toughest problem is that what we are trying to solve is that getting the media, getting those of us who control these stories being told, to tell the story that ought to, in fact, be told.

^I think a lot of people could take a very important lesson from that last statement. It’s up to us to advocate on behalf of the taken advantaged of, provide a voice or some kind of support, provide a platform for other people to share their stories, let them talk about what they are seeing, or worse, what they are enduring. Remain rational, represent yourself well, keep the judgment at a minimum, step outside of an already held perception. All of these things go a long way in “telling the story that ought to be told.” To his point about Wall Street, it also needs added that many financial establishments are doing this with fiat money that’s being printed out of thin air. So, how about they stop doing that already? Or tax those transactions. Or both! Towards the end of the forum I also gave a short comment that could easily be a solution to some of the nation’s financial woes… End the wars. Stop the militarism and interventionism, stop the policing of the world. This would immediately save $1 trillion (probably closer to $2 trillion) dollars a year. In turn, imagine what that money could be used for instead…

In summing up the point of this piece, I’m not saying that people should universally be given a pass, NOT AT ALL, but just that they shouldn’t be universally scapegoated or talked down to as if they aren’t actual individuals. That’s all. In my view, if you can at least treat people with respect then you’d be helping and not further perpetuating the many issues that often eat at the core of pet ownership, breed neutrality, and animal rescue.

To close, people might say: “Well, you try to tear down shelters all the time! How hypocritical of you!” No I don’t. When I speak about shelter-related issues it is primarily linking back to the Carson shelter, and in those cases they are pretty specific and detailed/documented statements/criticisms that I put out there. These things are based in actual incidents and not uninformed generalities. When I talk about shelters in the more general sense I mindfully scale back how I speak, and while I at times still have what I’d feel are legitimate criticisms, I never state or imply that all shelters are 1 way or that everyone that works for them are 1 way. I’d challenge anyone to find evidence to the contrary, as I’ve written enough about both topics. There’s a huge difference in speaking about specific incidents and/or examining the way a public shelter is run and typecasting massive groups of anything (whether by race, religion, economic status, place of residence, appearance, etc.) by judging them in the most ignorant of ways. A huge difference.

I came across a Facebook post this morning and the woman that wrote it is asking folks to share it so that’s why it’s being duplicated here. This woman is to be commended for being so courageous and open with her experience.

I do not have a blog. If I did I would post this there, as this will be lengthy. I keep things here on Facebook pretty light and post about my crazy, funny family life. I am posting this for 2 reasons. First, I see more and more pictures of babies with their pups. I am absolutely not saying there is anything wrong with that… I do it, too. Second, I am noticing my son being more and more aggressive with Daphne, our amazing white lab.

Putting together these pictures and writing this post brings up so many emotions that I really never wanted to feel again. I have realized, that when faced with it, the pain never goes away, ever. I can put myself in that hospital again in my mind like it was happening now. It’s a horrible, heart wrenching feeling.

Our gorgeous Scrappy suffered constantly from ear infections. This we knew. We have a pool and there was no way to keep him out, he loves to swim. Oftentimes I would come home and he would be alone just doing laps… So funny!! He was on meds for his ear infections but I became lazy on taking him to the vet which seemed like constantly. I started splitting his pills in half so they would last longer. Why? To save a buck? Shame, shame, shame on me!! I assumed he learned to live with the pain… I mean, why keep swimming? He was a smart dog!

THIS WAS/IS THE SWEETEST DOG ON THE PLANET!!

Hey, I consider myself pretty sweet too but I snap on occasion.

I was not home when this happened, I was on a shoot. I got a call from Tom saying he was on his way to the hospital, he told me what happened. I could not understand? I got in my car and drove. I don’t think I said a word to Britt, who was with me. My mind was numb. When we got to the hospital Brittany was ahead of me when walking into the room. She tried to stop me from entering. I have never felt that kind of pain in my heart, never. It is a different kind of pain when it is your child. The pain was crippling, hurt me to the core. When they stitched up Zach I had to leave the room because they had 2 nurses holding him down and the doctor straddled over him. I seriously thought I was going to faint. Daddy was with him, Zach was not alone.

Zach was playing with Scrappy… Sitting on him and reached forward and grabbed both of his ears, hard. Scrappy snapped. In about 5 seconds he ripped my son’s face to shreds. It was knee jerk. Kind of like when someone steps on your broken foot, you lash out.

Dogs can’t yell, they can’t curse you out or say ‘OUCH!!’ It was a knee jerk reaction from the sweetest Golden Retriever that would actually die for Zach. It just happened.

When we came home from the hospital I went to the backyard and looked at him and just cried… He cried, too. He felt awful, I know he did.

Because the hospital considered this a mauling, it was reported and he was to be put down. Within 24 hours animal control was at our door for quarantine. He did his 14 days. In the meantime my mom, who happened to own property in Texas at the time (but lives here), made a massive plea and campaign to keep him alive and she would take him to Texas (he is with her still). This was granted.

I can’t tell you enough how this was such a blow to our family because Scrappy was family, he was not just our ‘family dog.’

I am sharing these pictures after all of these years because if your animal is trying to tell you something, please listen. If your dog swims regularly there is a good chance they will have ear infections. Be proactive, listen to their eyes… They really want to tell you.

I LOVE my pets so much and I have learned so much by this experience. I ask, no I beg, that you share this because I wish I would have paid closer attention. Please, take your pets to the vet, the clinic. Anywhere where they can get the help they need because they do love you so much.

The anti-Pit Bull hate group DogsBite.org has recently put out a “call to action” in response to something meant to spread happiness and good will. Surprised? Me neither.

Founder Colleen Lynn wants everyone to go after the United Nations, not for anything that they’ve actually done politically, but for opting to put the smiling face of a Pit Bull-mix on 1 of their 6 stamps that are being created for the 2014 International Day of Happiness. What a crime! Not only will the dog be featured on 1 of the stamps, but that particular stamp was also chosen to be on the cover of the holiday’s promotional brochure… Choices which have caused dog-hating individuals such as Lynn to shit blocks of red ceramic material generally used for mortar construction.

They say this choice “offends” victims of dog mauling incidents and, get this, promotes dog fighting. How? Well, first it’s simply because any dog that even remotely looks like a Pit Bull was chosen. God forbid. Never mind the indisputable fact that millions upon millions of these dogs exist, and that they are all individuals, 99.9% of which have never harmed anyone. But further, apparently the DBO hate group has also taken issue with how the picture has been tinted blue and red, to go along with the dog’s white coat (um, American Pit Bull Terrier = United States = red, white and blue?). Colleen Lynn claims that the placement of the red represents a blood “stained chest” and that the glorification of the dog’s happy face represents the “very emblem of immoral cruelty,” an “obscene” choice.

Honestly, what kind of freak can see ^that image and think that it promotes dog fighting and killing? Colleen Lynn can! That’s who.

So in response Lynn has begun begging her followers to start emailing the UN obscene images of victims, as a way to vilify all dogs deemed, by her, to be Pit Bulls. Verifying what picture represents what doesn’t matter in the slightest, so long as it’s bloody and gruesome. Exploitative much? Incredible. Wait, weren’t we just talking about what was offensive and obscene? Yeah, that’s what I thought. This irony only registers with those who are rational. But okay.

Point is, they want the stamp stopped before it begins to circulate. They want to throw their fit, attempt to dumb everyone down, attempt to ignore public safety, attempt to evasively misrepresent millions of dogs, and attempt to relay their message of “non-obsceneness” by continuing to embrace the bottom of the barrel philosophy of being eternally obscene.

To counter this wicked effort, please contact these same individuals from the UN and let them know how much you appreciate the beautiful choice:

unpanyinquiries@un.org, katzr@un.org, postmaster@paho.org, linnl@paho.org, eberwind@paho.org, maysonia@paho.org

This is the sweetie cake of a dog, her name is Macy. She was a shelter dog that was deemed “not appropriate for adoption” at a kill pound in California. This oftentimes happens to dogs simply because of how they look, or their breed, and having nothing at all to do with their actual temperament.

Macy was thankfully rescued, fostered, and then ultimately adopted by the same person that decided to foster her. Now she happily lives out her life as a lap dog. It’s a great story.

From Macy’s adopter:

I had never considered myself a Pit Bull person, and if I were honest, they scared me a little. However, Macy completely blew my stereotypes and preconceptions out of the water. The thing Macy loves above all else is human interaction and attention. The main takeaway is, please everyone, just give them a chance — pitties and other shelter dogs alike. That’s really all they need.

The inclusion of a rescued shelter dog, Pit Bull or not, to represent a day promoting happiness is a huge honor that is absolutely deserved.

4 years ago today I adopted my beautiful baby Neola from Pit Bull Rescue San Diego. I love you Pola! Thank you for carrying on Sway’s legacy and loving me unconditionally while you do it.

Remember Presley? Well over the last few weeks he has been making his way to his new life, and I’m happy to write that he is now safely in Ohio and up for adoption. Please watch the little video visual that I put together entitled “From kill shelter to airplane,” and then the small public service announcement that features Presley essentially embracing an endless amount of belly rubs while I talk about him and the many other great dogs that are out there waiting to be saved.

Here Presley is with Guilty ‘Til Proven Innocent director Jeff Theman, after making it to Ohio. We love and miss you Presley! Thanks to Jeff for coming to Carson with me, falling in love with Presley and keeping his word on getting him out. Thanks to Jean for helping rescue Presley, Anna for covering his flight, Irene for assisting me with his adoption fee and Dianne for doing countless things on his behalf behind the scenes (and co-starring with him in the many videos).

I don’t want to delve into the political arena too far on this page, but I heard Glenn Greenwald mention a phrase this morning that essentially sums up perfectly what I try to do with my website… “Adversarial journalism.”

…They (establishment journalists) believe in subservient journalism, not adversarial journalism. I only believe in the latter. If you want to start criminalizing journalism, it means that you’re asking, as a citizen, to be kept ignorant and to allow people in power to conceal what they’re doing behind a wall of secrecy and to have no accountability or transparency. Journalism is not a crime and it is not terrorism.

Greenwald’s talking about the political system and the national security apparatus, I’m talking about the “sheltering” system and all of their backwardness from over in my little pocket of the world. They are both empires that routinely go unchallenged. Be an adversarial journalist.

*This article was originally published on August 24, 2011.

I’m not sure how to begin this article other than to admit that grief has played a significant role in shaping the last four years of my life. That sounds like a sad and depressing thing, but over time you come to realize what it means and to put it in its proper perspective. Before trying to do that – allow me to describe who I loved, how I came to love and who continues to drive a fire under me that will never be extinguished.

I found my first Pit Bull abandoned on a country road back in Ohio in 2001. I’d just graduated from college and was back in my hometown for the summer. As fate would have it she would come very cautiously out of a cornfield at the same time that I was checking my dad’s mailbox. I’ve always loved animals, so it was my first instinct to try and call her over to me. She was very skinny and most likely the dumped runt of somebody’s litter. She was so scared and tried to run away, but then she would reappear. I just stayed at it until she felt comfortable enough to take a chance on me. Once she did, for me at least, it was literal love at first sight.

I’d always had family pets growing up, but this was different because I was 20 years old and essentially on my own. She would represent a step forward as a human being, being my sole responsibility, and I embraced that role with everything I had. My parents had divorced a year earlier, and at the time I was living with my mom. God bless her when she found out that Sway was a Pit Bull. Mom had a mini-freak out, but it passed within minutes because she knew what was obvious to anyone – that Sway and I had a bond that was pretty special, and she wasn’t going to be a complication to that. It’s funny because I didn’t even know Sway was a Pit Bull myself. I didn’t care. I don’t see animals like that, boxed up with a label. It honestly didn’t matter to me at all. But when I went into the local shelter to submit her registration information it was interesting to see the animal control officer trying to fear-monger me into relinquishing the dog. All these rules, all these warnings and stereotypes – and that was the first, of many, experiences with breed discrimination.

Sway would cling to me, and wouldn’t let me out of her view. I remember taking her to a baseball game that me and my friends were playing that first weekend, and she actually stood out in the infield with me the entire time. This became my new “normal,” and everywhere I went for the next eight years, she went with me. This got difficult in 2004 when I decided that I was going to move out to California. I was going to drive all the way out and I didn’t necessarily have a plan, a job or a place to stay. For those reasons alone, I couldn’t bring Sway with me, and so she had to stay behind with my mom until I could figure my new situation out and arrange for a flight for her. On many levels this was one of the hardest things that I ever did, and it was capped off by watching Sway climb up over the back of the couch and watch me through the living room window as I drove away.

Six months later it was time for her plane to touch down. I remember the night perfectly because I had a performance to do at the Key Club, and this was literally my first time ever being on a stage in Los Angeles. You would have thought that I’d have died of nerves from that alone. But I was so nervous about Sway’s flight and everything going perfectly that this song I had to do was the least of my concerns. I zoomed through it off of anticipation alone, and then drove myself to LAX to pick her up at cargo. Seeing Sway being wheeled out to me was definitely one of the most joyful moments of my life. She was here and normality could ensue.

There were all these new things for her like the beach and the numerous dog parks, going to the music studio and hiking up completely new terrain. She was never a fan of the water, but if I ran into the ocean she’d certainly follow me. I’d play football with her at the beach, and she’d chase rebounds when I’d play basketball at the city parks – always staying so close to me and never letting me out of her sight. She’d teach all of my friends and people that came in and out of my life what amazing animals Pit Bulls were, opening the eyes of many and creating her own little space within so many people’s hearts. What an incredibly loyal and loving soul she always was – my best friend in the whole world.

Both of our lives were altered in 2007 when she started showing signs of extreme weakness and fatigue. After running numerous blood panels it was discovered that her red blood cells were rapidly dropping. In a matter of months I watched her go from an energy-driven Pit Bull to a frail and fragile being that needed consistent medical support to stay alive. It was discovered that she had a rare and complicated blood disease called autoimmune hemolytic anemia, which is when a patient’s immune system begins destroying its own red blood cells. This became immediately life threatening due to the fact that the red blood cells are what deliver the oxygen to the body.

For the next two years life with her was a series of peaks and valleys. The first four months went downhill so fast that it left everyone reeling. Within a month her red blood cell level had dropped so low that a blood transfusion became necessary. This was the first of eight over the next six weeks.

On top of that there was complication after complication. In Sway’s case, the medications caused very severe side effects that included muscle wasting. Her red blood cell level finally began to at least hold after taking the drastic and alternative measure of adding a human anabolic steroid to her regimen. The cells were holding at 1/3 of a normal dog’s level, but over time Sway had become so used to the lower percent that her body just adjusted. After her initial meds were drastically reduced her body began to partially recover. In combination with the weekly anabolic injection she slowly inched towards an almost entire year of this new normality. At one point prior to cutting her medications she hadn’t been able to stand on her own, and then one day she was up and on her feet. Victories like that would put me over the moon. Eventually she had gained the majority of her weight back, and although her red blood cell count never rose, in time she was back to doing the many things that she loved to do, albeit at a slower and more controlled pace.

During the next many months her body began declining again, and shortly after her blood count followed. After another ultrasound Sway was diagnosed with multiple inoperable shunts on the outside of her liver. This meant that all of her food nutrients and supplements, as well as her medications, were being improperly absorbed and essentially diverted around the liver and into the heart. Since shunted blood was not being detoxified by the liver, it was creating the possibility of toxins circulating through her blood.

Three months later, my 8-year-old, 45-pound Pit Bull was down to 17 pounds. It seemed as though everywhere we turned it was between a rock and a hard place. Her latest blood panel was showing pancreatitis, on top of the ever-present AIHA and the liver shunts. Her blood count had dropped to 11 percent (normal range 45-50 percent). Fluid therapy for the pancreatitis would dilute the blood even further, and then she would immediately need transfused again. During the last 48 hours she had taken a drastic turn for the worse, and at that point she could barely lift her head.

I had to make the heartbreaking decision to put her down.

It was scheduled for 2 p.m. that day, and I spent every second laying next to her. An hour before it was set to happen, Sway passed away naturally in our bed with me talking to her and giving her kisses. Coincidentally my mom was also in the room, as she was out here for her yearly visit from Ohio. It’s almost as if Sway knew something that everyone else didn’t. It was like my coming to grips with the current reality would align with my mom’s visit, which would align with her taking her last breaths, and naturally.

I remember the last moments vividly, and it’s a surreal thing to have the one you love there with you one second and then literally gone the next. The questions immediately fill your mind and saturate all of your thoughts.

Where did she go? Did she know how much I love her? Will I ever see her again? Did I do everything that I could have done?

Then the regret and the second-guessing tries to take hold, and sometimes it succeeds. I ran so many scenarios through my mind that at times I felt lucky to have survived the mental torment. The permanent separation that happens in those last moments is like being thrown overboard and into the coldest of waters, like a shock to my body and a shock to everything that I knew to be my reality.

The selfish side of me viewed it as “loss,” as my best friend in the world being “taken” away. At the same time, in Sway’s case her blood disease and all that did her harm was also silenced – and in that I tried to celebrate that she was no longer feeling those potential pains or abnormalities. I’m not an overly religious person, but two days after Sway’s passing I was lucky enough to have a moment that happened to me that is incomparable in scope to anything that I’ve experienced before or since. It was one of those things that may happen once or twice in a lifetime, a proof of God moment if you will. It was the single greatest reminder that this is just a temporary separation and not a permanent one, and it was a blessing that leaves me thankful.

With that being said, the immediate aftermath of Sway’s passing was still devastating for me. Even with the prior two plus years slowly preparing me for this possible outcome, it was the most difficult thing that I’ve ever been through. I say “through” because it was/is a process that you have to take part in, the grief, instead of avoiding or suppressing it.

People who read this and automatically then think that my life must not have been hard up to this point, or that I haven’t faced numerous worthy adversities due to the fact that I’d be willing to acknowledge the death of a pet as something most significant, would be mistaken. It’s an impossible task to get someone who clearly hasn’t loved an animal to then understand what it means to deeply and genuinely love an animal. That’s fine, and I will hope that one day someone or something will have as profound of an affect on that person’s life as Sway had on mine. But you can’t let those types of people rush or trivialize the grieving process.

For me, some days my grief was so heavy that it rendered everything else unnoticeable by comparison. As the time passes, be assured that this will lessen – for some slower, for some, faster. But also be prepared to feel many different things, including guilt, when you do begin to feel better. Sometimes I’d get mad at myself for eventually having more better days than bad, almost treating my grief as if it were the only remaining link that I had with Sway. This is completely untrue. Try to keep in mind that you should strive to eventually get to the point of embracing the times when you can be genuinely happy, as that is exactly what your loved one would want for you. This is some advice that I am still learning to take.

What to do with the grief until you actually reach that point? Anything besides bottling it up inside. That is always the least healthy response to anything, especially something like this. Talk to someone. Write or journal your thoughts – even if it’s just for you, as it serves as being therapeutic in nature. Artistic? Work on a project in dedication, or just simply try something totally new and dedicate your effort to the life that your loved one lived. Just make sure to invest in becoming more emotionally in touch with how you are feeling – be honest with yourself.

Siphon off all of that potentially negative energy and turn it into a positive reaction (be it volunteering, helping another through a donation or raising awareness) – I’d like to think that that’s one of the best ways that you could honor your loved one.

What I did was sign up to do a triathlon. This is something I’d never done and I wanted to see if I could set that goal and then follow through with doing it. Unfortunately my bike chain literally snapped during the event and I was unable to finish – so I signed up to do another one, finished, and then did another one.

I also adopted a new Pit Bull-mix, a little brindle one that I named Neola. When I saw her picture online I knew that it was something that I wanted to do and that I was ready to take that step. Shortly after I adopted another one, Odilia, because I wanted them to have a buddy. This is something I always wanted for Sway but never did; I was always so overprotective and cautious with her. Every now and then I see her in both of them, and their unique personalities have made my life more complete.

To further honor Sway I started going into shelters and photographing all the Pit Bulls that unfortunately pack each facility. Just being onsite and visiting with them is special enough, but then to have a hand in potentially saving a life – that is a priceless feeling. As I familiarized myself with the realities of this entrenched backward sheltering system, I began to form strong opinions and then to speak out in ways that I never originally intended. I created a website that would not only house my shelter photography, but would also allow me to do video blogs and write articles that were centric to what is going on inside of these facilities. Pit Bulls are being discriminated against at an alarming rate, and not just in the ways that most of us have grown to understand. The shelters themselves are using bad temperament tests and other sideways maneuvers against these animals, as means of justifying their killings. Legislation continues to be thrown around, tweaked and at times shoved down our throats. Media continues to fear-monger and much of the general public continues to be extremely susceptible to being swept up and into an angry mob of hate and ignorance. These are all things that I am now focusing a lot of my energy on, and all in the name of honoring Sway.

Sway continues in many ways to be present in my life – most noticeably through empowering my efforts to help Pit Bulls, but also in so many other subtle and silent ways that are only known and appreciated by me. That’s the gift – that somehow things live on. Would I give anything to have her back and healthy? Of course, but I’m also OK now, and the thought of her being my biggest supporter is all the fuel that I need. I’m thankful for the time that I got to spend with her and for all of the things that had to happen in order for her to come stumbling out of that cornfield at that exact moment 10 years ago. I’m also grateful for those that now reach out to me and for those opportunities that I will have to reach out to others. The love that Sway and I shared surely helped form whatever strength I needed to deal with her loss. These are the bits of perspective that I spoke about in the first paragraph. Like Tennyson wrote, “Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

That’s important to grasp I think, knowing that in reality some people just never have that much to lose. Special bonds don’t just come along every day … for some people they may never, or maybe that person just isn’t in a place to even notice them if they did. For this reason alone I am blessed beyond explanation. I certainly still cry when I need my moments, but love healed my grief, and love created the courage to participate in that grief. It’s the one thing that never ends, love – the literal foundation for everything that is good in this world.