Mountain Views News, Sierra Madre Edition [Pasadena] Saturday, November 17, 2018

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BEST FRIENDS & MORE 

Mountain Views-News Saturday, November 17, 2018 


Happy Tails

by Chris Leclerc

BEST FRIEND


Lisa Leslie is a beautiful 
Italian Greyhound mix lady 
approximately 8-years-old. She 
has dainty long legs and was 
named for the basketball star, 
also known for her long legs. Lisa 
is very sweet and friendly and 
will greet you with a beautiful 
smile, wagging tail and graceful 
bows. She is very inquisitive and 
observant of her environment and 
loves to explore. Lisa is very easy 
to handle on a leash and enjoys 
going for walks. Lisa is an active 
girl who will go into “play pose” 
inviting some fun with other dogs 
or with people, and she especially 
enjoys playing with toys. Lisa Leslie is an active girl 
who is looking for her new best friend and forever 
home. If you spend some time 
with her, she is sure to melt your 
heart. Her adoption fee is $130, 
which includes spay surgery, 
a microchip, first vaccinations 
and a free wellness check-up 
at a participating veterinarian. 
Feel free to call us at (626) 286-
1159 for more information. 
She currently resides at the San 
Gabriel Valley Humane Society 
located at 851 E. Grand Avenue 
in San Gabriel. We are located 
off San Gabriel Blvd, north of 
Mission and south of Las Tunas 
Drive. To arrange a ‘Meet and 
Greet’, please stop by any time 
from 10:30am to 4:30pm Tuesday through Sunday. 
Website: www.sgvhumane.org

YOTE & RUEDE

A True Story Of Brotherly Love

Just when I think I’ve met the sweetest, most loveable 
canine I could ever hope to meet, yet another furry 
four-legger comes along and proves me wrong! I’m 
specifically referring to a dog named Yote (pronounced 
“Yotee”) whom I befriended a few years ago, along with 
his human mom, Debra Herzog. The quaint canyon 
cottage Debra and Yote lived in at the time is tucked into 
the top of the lower canyon, just below the Woodland 
water basin, with an enormous evergreen tree shading a 
front yard that is just perfect for pups to play in.

 Debra rescued Yote, a gorgeous and gregarious golden 
corgi chow mix, from an LA animal shelter when he was 
just a puppy. He had been abandoned along with his 
siblings in an apartment and when the authorities came 
to take the puppies to the shelter, he was left behind 
yet again. It seemed that little dog was destined to be 
alone without a loving home, but thanks to a remarkable 
stroke of luck (I actually like to think of it as a miracle) 
someone heard him crying in the apartment next door 
and called animal control.

 The little, left-behind pup was finally rescued and 
brought to the shelter where he was found to have 
distemper. Because he was so sick, he stood less chance of 
being adopted, but Debra knew when she met Yote, that 
they were meant to be together, so she readily accepted 
the challenge of getting him healthy and giving him a 
happy life. Well, let me just say, Debra did a beautiful job 
meeting that challenge on Yote‘s behalf.

 Soon after Yote‘s adoption, Debra’s employment status 
changed and her new, more demanding work schedule 
began taking up much of the time she had hoped to 
spend working at home with Yote. She didn’t want to 
leave him all alone during the day, so she enrolled him 
at a local doggy daycare where he could interact with 
other dogs. In fact, being the good dog-mom that she is, 
Debra tried out a few different doggy daycares in search 
of the perfect place, and everywhere she took him, Yote 
became known as the official “activities director”!

 Yote is such a social guy, he refuses to leave anyone 
out of the fun. He showed affection to everyone at 
the daycare center. He made a point of engaging all 
his canine classmates, even the less social ones, and 
encouraged them to participate with the rest of the pack. 
At every daycare Yote visited, Debra was told the same 
thing; “That is one special dog with a very big heart. He 
makes it his mission to help other dogs get involved and 
come out of their shells.”

 When she moved to Sierra Madre, Debra called me 
for dog walking services and soon embarked on a quest 
to seek out a brother or sister for Yote so he could have 
a constant companion at home. Having looked at 10 or 
15 different dogs without finding a good match, on the 
Friday just before Christmas, Debra heard about a chow 
mix at Devore, a high-kill shelter in San Bernardino 
County. This particular dog was scheduled to be 
euthanized that Sunday morning, so with no time to 
spare Debra called the shelter and begged them to hold 
out long enough for her to come with Yote to see if it was 
a good match.

 The next day, Debra took Yote with her to the shelter 
where they met a very broken, sickly and desperate dog 
who looked so much like Yote, he really could be his 
brother! Debra told Yote, “Do your thing, little buddy, 
go and show some of that good love you’ve got in your 
heart to this guy because he really needs it.“ Within 
moments, in his typical prime form, Yote managed to 
brighten that would-be death-row doggie’s spirits and 
had him wagging his tail in no time. Instantly, Debra 
and Yote both knew this was the right dog for them.

 Next, Debra needed to pick a good name for their 
new-found friend. She chose the French name RueDe 
(pronounced “Rudy“), partly because Yote’s favorite 
toy is “Rudy the Reindeer” and partly because of the 
significance of the French word “rue“, as it is used when 
referring to a road or street. Debra thought this best fit 
because he was found carousing the streets near Perris 
(Get it? Perris - Paris) before he was rounded up and 
brought to the shelter. Remarkably, RueDe responded 
immediately to his new name and the three of them are 
living a happy and full life together, to this day.

 Debra’s experience with Yote and RueDe touched 
me to the core. The out-pouring of kindness on Debra’s 
part truly warmed my heart, but it was the intense 
bond of brotherly love between two grateful dogs 
that really got me. Every time I hear a story about a 
successful shelter-pet adoption, I find it hard to hold 
back the tears that come from knowing animals that 
would have otherwise been euthanized were given a 
second chance and have brought immense joy to their 
new human companions. There is nothing like love to 
heal a broken heart, and I think brotherly love between 
two grateful dogs is the best medicine there is. I hope 
Yote & RueDe’s story will inspire you as much as it has 
me. Love and let live.


TABBY TUCKER

Friendly, lively, & 
active, that’s our 
TUCKER, age 1+. 
Gorgeous tabby 
boy, kinda looks 
like a Bengal. 
Tucker needs an 
active home & 
space to zoom around. He sometimes can get a 
bit too excited and rambunctious, playfully trying 
to wrestle or bounce on other cats, so if you have 
other cats they’d have to be able to gently put 
him in his place & not let him get away with his 
shenanigans! LOL! Makes for fun entertainment! 
He’s like a typical active teenage boy! Loving & 
sweet, too. Would probably do well with children 
& other pets. Come & meet him by calling 626-
676-9505. He will come current on vaccines 
and health exam, neutered, and microchipped. 
See more pictures of him—and don’t miss his 
entertaining video on our website, at http://www.
lifelineforpets.org/young-cats.html, where you 
will also find our adoption info.

 Good news: Cinnamon and Juliet have been 
adopted.


THE WORLD AROUND US


OUT TO PASTOR 

A Weekly Religion Column by Rev. James Snyder

CHRISTOPHER Nyerges

THANKSGIVING DAY: IT’S ROOTS, 
AND OTHER COMMENTARY

KITTY ON THE OUTSIDE OR A 

TREE FROG ON THE INSIDE

[Nyerges is the author 
of “How to Survive 
Anywhere,” “Foraging 
California,” “Enter the 
Forest” and other books. He 
leads courses in the native uses of plants. He can be 
reached at Box 41834, Eagle Rock, CA 90041, orwww.
SchoolofSelf-Reliance..com]

 

 Thanksgiving is our uniquely American holiday 
where the family gathers, where we remember 
our roots, we share a meal, and we hopefully “give 
thanks.” 

 But look how quickly such simple and profound 
holidays get perverted. Today, we hardly know what 
“giving thanks” even means, and so the act of giving 
thanks is lost on most of us. Newscasters talk about 
“turkey day,” as if all there was to the day was eating 
turkey. Interestingly, most folks would not know 
whether or not they were eating turkey, or eating 
crow, and most of the time we’re doing the latter, 
figuratively speaking. Then, when we have barely 
taken the time to consider the notion of “giving 
thanks,” we get up early on the following “black 
Friday” to rush around with the mobs “looking for 
a good deal” to help us celebrate the consumer-
driven commercial craze into which we’ve morphed 
“Christmas.”

 Wow! How did we get here? What can we do 
about it? Let’s take a moment to look at the roots of 
Thanksgiving.

 In the history of North America, we are told that 
the first historic Thanksgiving Day was in October 
of 1621. After a successful harvest that year at the 
Plymouth colony, there was about a week or so of 
celebrations. The local Indians and the colonists 
joined together, with the Indians generally showing 
the colonists (mostly city folks) how to hunt for the 
meal which consisted of fowl, deer, duck, goose, 
and fish. Corn bread, wild greens, plums, leeks, 
and many other vegetables (wild and domestic) 
were shared in this celebration. Interestingly, there 
is no recorded evidence that wild turkey or wild 
cranberries were part of the menu. And we tell and 
re-tell this particular American story as if it is all 
about food!

 In fact, some (but not all) historians question 
whether or not there were any religious overtones 
at all on this “first Thanksgiving,” citing such 
evidence as the archery and firearms games, and 
the running and jumping competitions, which they 
say would never be done at religious ceremonies by 
the Puritans. The “competition” was more likely the 
men on each side doing their shows of bravado with 
weapons and physical feats before sitting down to 
eat.

 Not widely known – or remembered -- is that this “first 
thanksgiving” feast had mostly political overtones, 
which seem to have largely backfired. Tisquantum 
(“Squanto”) was the interpreter for Massasoit, 
who was the political-military leader of the local 
Wampanoag tribe. Massasoit was worried that his 
weakened tribe would be taken-advantage of by the 
stronger Narragansett, because his own group had 
been so reduced from disease. Massasoit would 
permit the European newcomers to stay as long as 
they liked, as long as they aligned with Massasoit 
against the Narraganset. (Read all about it in your 
history books). Tisquantum spoke English because 
he’d been to England and back, and had his own 
plan to re-establish his home-town village near what 
became the Plimouth colony. 

 Though Tisquantum successfully helped 
Massasoit broker a pact with the newcomers from 
across the ocean, Tisquantum died about a year 
later. The truce that Massasoit hoped to cement 
lasted perhaps another 50 years until there were 
too many Europeans flooding into Massachusetts 
and all of what was to become the eastern United 
States. 

 Despite the varied history of this day, Americans 
have chosen to see this as day set aside so that we do 
not lose sight of our spiritual blessings.

 But we should not confuse “giving thanks” with 
“eating a lot of really good food.” “Giving Thanks” is 
an enlightened attitude which accompanies specific 
actions. Perhaps sharing our bounty with the needy 
would be a better Thanksgiving activity than eating 
large volumes of food. More to the point, perhaps 
we should use Thanksgiving to give thanks where it 
is due -- to the indigenous peoples who have become 
the “forgotten minorities.” Rather than “eat a lot,” 
perhaps we could send blankets, food, or money to 
any of the American Indian families or nations who 
today live in Third World conditions.

 “Giving thanks” begins with the attitude of 
gratitude, and extends into the practical actions of 
assisting others less fortunate than yourself. 

I thought, which is a dangerous activity for me, that I 
had pulled one over on the Gracious Mistress of the 
Parsonage. It is a rare occasion when I actually do 
something like this.

 At my age, I assume I could get away with 
something. I guess I am just not old enough.

 Several weeks ago, I happened to look out the back 
window and saw a kitty walking across our back yard. 
A little idea sneaked into my head. Maybe I could get 
some kitty treats and feed the kitty.

 It is not that my wife does not like kitties; she just 
does not like them on our property. No way she would 
ever, and I mean ever, condone some kitty living on 
our property. However, my thought was, what if she 
does not know?

 I have always heard that what your wife doesn’t 
know can’t hurt you. So, I put together a very sneaky 
plan.

 I went and got a dish for the kitty as well as a bag of 
kitty food. I really thought I could pull this off.

 On the back porch, I put the dish and filled it with 
kitty food. I pushed it to the side so that you could 
not see it from the window. I am not an expert when 
it comes to sneaky, I’m still an amateur.

 Later that evening I happened to look out the 
window and there it was. A tiger like kitty had found 
the dish and was feasting upon the food. I knew I 
had to take things slow. I did not want to scare off the 
kitty.

 I kept this up for several days, quite proud of 
myself that I was not caught yet. I thought there was a 
chance I wouldn’t get caught and I was living on that 
chance.

 It was on a Thursday evening and I was looking 
out the porch door, watching the kitty eat when I 
heard somebody say, “What are you staring at?”

 Immediately I recognized the voice and had to be 
very careful so that I did not trip up on anything.

“I’m just enjoying the backyard scenery. It looks so 
lovely in the evening shadows.”

 I sighed very deeply hoping I had escaped being 
found out.

 Eventually I was getting to the point where I could 
open the door very carefully and the kitty would not 
get scared and run away. I was not able to pet it yet, 
but that was in my plans.

 Then one night something else happened that 
pleased me deeply. A second kitty joined the back 
porch kitty diner. I really was ecstatic, but I had to 
keep myself calm because I did not want to give my 
secret away.

 Around our house, keeping secrets does not really 
last long.

 Everything was going fine until one night the kitty 
came to the porch glass door and started meowing. 
The knucklehead that I am, I meowed back.

 At that precise moment, my wife happened to 
walk into the kitchen area where the glass porch door 
was. She heard me meow and said, “There better not 
be a kitty on our porch!”

 Before I could respond, she came up to the door 
and there was the kitty meowing at her.

 “I don’t want any old cat on our back porch.”

 I wanted to reply, but I didn’t.

 “I hope you’re not feeding it!”

 Do I need to call a lawyer?

 At that moment, she went up to the door to open 
it so that she could shoo the cat away and there on the 
inside of the door was the biggest tree frog I have ever 
seen. When she saw that, she screamed, the kitty ran 
and the frog jumped inside our house.

It has been a long time since I have seen the Gracious 
Mistress of the Parsonage dancing.

 It was all I could do from laughing hysterically. I 
tried to control it, but you know how that works. The 
more I tried to restrain my laughter the louder it got.

 Where is my cell phone when I need it?

 She ran, got a broom, came back and swept the 
frog outside. I haven’t seen that frog since.

 So, being in a sense of hilarious insanity, I said, and 
I almost regret saying it, “Which do you want? The 
kitty or the frog?”

 She looked at me holding her broom in a very 
dangerous way and finally she broke down laughing.

Life is full of choices. Some of our choices are not of 
our choosing. Sometimes it is choosing the better of 
the worse.

 Since then we have had two kitties come to our 
back porch every evening to enjoy the kitty food that 
I put out there in the kitty dish. I have not seen the 
frog, but I sure have been thinking about that frog 
ever since.

 “What are you smiling at?”

 “Nothing, I’m just having a happy moment.”

 “It better not have anything to do with that tree 
frog.”

 Thinking about this I was reminded of what David 
said. “Blessed is the man whom thou choosest, and 
causest to approach unto thee, that he may dwell in 
thy courts: we shall be satisfied with the goodness of 
thy house, even of thy holy temple” (Psalm 65:4).

 It is not important if you are a kitty or a frog only 
that God has chosen you. Live in that glory every day.

 Rev. James L. Snyder is pastor of the Family of God 
Fellowship. He lives with the Gracious Mistress of the 
Parsonage in Ocala. Call him at 1-866-552-2543 or 
e-mail jamessnyder2@att.net. His web site is www.
jamessnyderministries.com.

Mountain Views News 80 W Sierra Madre Blvd. No. 327 Sierra Madre, Ca. 91024 Office: 626.355.2737 Fax: 626.609.3285 Email: editor@mtnviewsnews.com Website: www.mtnviewsnews.com