Bullies and Bullshit

If you don’t want to hear about bullies and my thoughts and plans, move along. Any comments left about how I’m being a bad influence, or anything as such, will be deleted. My girls have been through enough in the past four years, I don’t want to hear about how the bullies need love and understanding. They need cattle prods and razor wire.

My daughter is the target of bullies. This probably comes as no surprise to most parents, because at some point pretty well all kids will be the target of other kids.

Rhia’s bullies like to tell her she’d be better off if she killed herself. They like to tell her she’s a slut and a whore. They like to tell her how they tortured our missing Siamese cat, and killed him. They like to escalate it into physical issues such as tripping, pushing and in one act of extreme bullying, they surrounded her on their bikes (while she was riding her bike) and crowding her into the path of oncoming traffic. She has come home bruised from the stones they throw and as luck would have it I know how to repair glasses, because one of those stones snapped the arm from the frame.

The bike incident happened a scant few days after she’d learned to ride a two-wheel bicycle. The stones incident happened almost exactly a year later, again while she was on her bike. Are you wondering why she was 10 years old before she learned to ride a two-wheel bicycle?

Rhia has Cerebral Palsy. If you’ve read my blogs before, you know this.

She walks funny, and she sometimes talks funny. She holds her body differently than other kids, and her emotional state of being is at a much lower age than she is.

The school has attempted to help, I do have to admit that. It took threats of pulling Rhia out of school and home-schooling her before anything was done. The last principal did nothing. This principal at least pays lip-service…and I do believe he’d do something if we can get Rhia to go to him when something happens. The parents are useless fucks. I know one of them was quite likely a bully in his day, from the way he spoke to me on the phone after the stones incident. That’s fine.

I was bullied as a child. I had the shit beaten out of me, until my uncles taught me how to fight back, and they taught me how to fight dirty. Why bother trying to ward off the blows, when you can go straight for the balls? Why bother trying to pull hair, when you can go straight for the jugular?

I’ve grown up though, and having gone through similar experiences as a kid, I have to say this – the only way to deal with a juvenile bully is to find someone bigger and meaner to bully right back. Rhia can’t fight back…she doesn’t have the balance or the strength. I’ve come to the decision that should those creatures come after her again outside of the school’s limitations, I will let loose someone bigger and meaner. No – not me, although I’d love to wrap my hands around the neck of the kid that told Rhia he was going to break into our house and kill her in her sleep… no, just as I had my uncles, Rhia has hers.

As for the girly bullies that are like black flies to Care, I’m taking care of them too. The next time one of them punches Care, or trips her, she is free to retaliate. I’ve told the school. The cyber-bullying will stop now too…I’m reporting the kids and their bullshit to the local ISP. If that means the school or the parents or the library loses their internet, I don’t give a flying fuck. Maybe these people should be watching their spawn instead of swilling their beer and worrying about their slot machines.

When my kids are too scared to go out for a bike ride in a town of 400 people, what does that say? I no longer tell people what a wonderful little town this is, because it’s bullshit. A lot of these folks grew up here, yes…and most of them seem to forget that I practically did too. Peyton fucking Place… I can’t wait until I can find the time to write it. Ha.

Anyway, we’re done ignoring, we’re done walking away. We’re done ‘turning the other cheek’ for lack of a better pagan term. I raised my kids to not turn to violence because that is their paternal heritage and I know they’re better than that.

I have a half-dozen poppets here, black cotton and black ribbon. Black candles and Banishing oil. I have Wormwood, I have Foxglove and I have Belladonna. And I have their names.

Missing Family…

Part of the Family

My daughters and I are missing a member of our family. Pye (short for Pyewacket) is a large, unaltered, male Siamese cat with dark chocolate/seal points. He’s been with our family since late November of 2005 when he came to us as a kitten. He disappeared on or around February 24th from outside our home in Miami.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking he’s unaltered, so he’s off to continue the species. If that was the case, he would have been home by now. And for what it’s worth, he was due to make that trip to the vet’s office, so the nasty phone calls can stop now, all right?

The girls and I watched him grow from a shy little boy into a crazy teenager and finally over these past months into a wonderfully affectionate, cuddly part of the family. He wasn’t just a pet to us, he was more than that. Anyone who has had a pet knows how quickly they can become part of the family, and with a Siamese it is all that more intense. Although Pye had one special member of the family, he loved us all, and anyone else who entered our home. It is for that one special family member that I write this letter. My youngest daughter has had a very bad time of it, without her best friend. I’ve heard her up at night, going to the door and calling him. She goes for long walks in the evenings, calling him. Her heart is broken, and it does not break easily.

We’ve had posters up in Miami, have posted an ad on Pembina Valley Online as well as a notice on the Pembina Valley Humane Society website. I’ve called the local vets’ offices, and emailed several animal shelters in the province. We’ve had no word, even after offering a $50 reward for his return. When the posters have been removed, we’ve replaced them.

I have answered the phone several times now, to have people complain that I didn’t have my cat fixed earlier. I’ve listened to people tell me this person and that person are known to trap and poison cats. I’ve even had one person tell me I must have stolen a neighbor’s cat – even though that neighbor’s cat is female, and not Siamese. What I have come to realize is that someone in this town knows what happened to our Pyewacket, and doesn’t have the nerve to face either myself, or my daughters. Perhaps someone did indeed poison him, or take him out to the country and dump him. It has been known to happen. The ways to ‘get rid’ of an animal are numerous and varied. Perhaps the children that have threatened to kill Pye on occasion in order to upset my oldest daughter know what happened to him, although I would hope their threats were empty ones. Perhaps someone has Pye in their home – he is beautiful and affectionate, as I’ve stated.

But someone knows what happened…

That someone can let us know, anonymously if necessary, by sending a letter, or a postcard. Anything – but set our minds at rest. Let this little girl grieve her friend, if it is grieving she must do. Let this little girl have her friend back – give us our family member back – if you have him. We can identify him, and should he be alive we do have the reward waiting. A reward my daughters have given from their own savings.

Thank you.