My Beautiful Wolf LOBO and his untimely death

I had a very dear old friend, that I met 9 years ago, when I first moved to the USA. His name was Terry. He lived about 4 doors away from my new home. He would come over often for dinner or a barbecue. I loved Terry, he was divorced, 64, and had such insight. We became good friends, and would at times, go riding along a trail on our bikes together, or go dancing for the night.
I am married to his good friend. He often told me of his concern at the way I was treated by my spouse, and advised me to leave often. I kept on thinking, it would change, and he would come around.
One night 4 years ago, Terry had a heart attack in his sleep. He had owned a wolf,named Lobo, who was around 9 years at that time. He was a beautiful creature, although he had a pack mentality.
At his premature death, no one would take responsibility for the wolf. It was decided that we would adopt him. For the first month, we would drag him back to our house, and he would disappear again, to his old home, and sit there howling. It was very sad to watch. One night, about a month later, he crawled through the little Jack Russell doggy door, and we found him in our room in the morning, sleeping peacefully. That was the turning point for my Lobo.
I grew to love this animal, and he took all of us, into his pack. He became much more social, and willing to share his affection.
One night about a year later, my husband had left 4 steaks on the edge of the kitchen counter, to barbecue. Now this mighty fine wolf, took it upon himself, to help himself of this fare.
When my husband walked into the kitchen and realized what had happened, he kicked the wolf in his ribs repeatedly.
Lobo crawled into a corner, and howled in pain. I thought that my husband had broken his ribs. It was 10pm at night, I remember that, because I was trying to figure out where i was going to take him for help. I sat in the corner consoling him, for a long time, and eventually got to feel his ribs, and see that he could move alright.
From this moment on, Lobo was mine. He avoided my husband at all costs, and followed me everywhere.
Almost 2 years to the date that we got him, my husband came home, and drove his truck up the driveway, and managed to catch Lobo with his front tire, and run him over. He backed his lifted truck up, and there lay Lobo, howling, with his hips broken, and stomach hanging open.
I was at the dentist at the time, but coming up the drive, my son ran out, and told me to come quickly, Lobo was run over. There was my wolf, in this God awful condition. I tried to console him, but he bit me, and there was no way to move him into the truck to take him to the vet.
Lobo lay there for 4 hours in tremendous pain. Some vet eventually told me to give him whiskey. It worked, as he drank from the whiskey bowl, it seemed to take the edge off the pain a little. Eventually we found a horse vet to come put him down. All the while this is happening, local kids, were digging a hole for us to put him in the ground.
After seeing my beautiful wolf get buried, I hurried to the emergency room, and got my arm stitched up. I still have the scar as a reminder, of my beautiful wolf. It is also a reminder, of what kind of man I am married to.
There is a definite link between abusive relationships, and animal abuse.

Seamstress dilemas.

I have decided that maybe I should try to blog on a regular basis. That way, I will be able to recall past events, record the present,and future hopes for my children and myself.
Today, I will need to get my head wrapped around the fact, that I need to start sewing for a friend, and then get onto the work I need to get done for a store.
I guess I am a pretty good seamstress that does not market herself adequately. I need to start getting around and start showing stores just what i can sew.
I was in the fashion design business for 18 years in South Africa, and now have moved into the market of interior design. I love sewing, its where I find some peace. The problem I have with sewing is that I am a perfectionist when it comes to my work. I like things highly detailed, and really well sewn. I am a PAIN in my own butt. Not many people expect to get that kind of workmanship these days.
Off to my workroom, and lets get started for the day.
Later!

Rescued Jack Russell Terrier abused

My daughter reminded me today of a Jack Russell Terrier, 'Chili' that we had rescued. We rescued this bitch who had already been in 3 homes, soon after our Jack Russell died. Here is a little information about my beloved dog 'Litchi' , that had drowned.
Litchi had been taken out on a boat, late at night, by my drunk husband. When he got back to the dock to tie up, he never noticed the dog miss the dock landing, and fall into the water.
My step son came running up to the house we were staying in, and told me that Litchi was missing and that they could not find him. I had rescued this dog from a terribly abusive family myself. I immediately started vomiting at the news, and continued to throw up all night.
In the morning we found him 12 feet down under the dock.
I was inconsolable, and laid in bed for a week. I found another Jack puppy, from a breeder in Oregon, and we went and picked him up from a dog show nearby that weekend. I named him 'Mango'. We decided that we would try rescue him a playmate. Here is where Chili came in the picture.
We took Chili, and had to sign papers off on her, as the rescue agency could not be held responsible for anything she did. She seemed to have an issue with men, and we had understood that she was abused by a man. She formed a bond with my 17 year old daughter, and when she was not around, I would have to do!
This dog did not like to be toyed with, and mostly we avoided any type of conflict with her. She had actually nipped 3 of us in the house, as a warning, but had never touched my daughter.
One night, my drunken husband, picked her up, and my daughter started screaming that he should put her down. Instead, he started blowing into Chili's face. OMG. Chili's first reaction was to snap, and she did. She took a chunk out of his top lip. I mean you could see the fat layer in his lip. He snapped, pick her up, and twisted her collar, and held her up against the wall, and tried to choke her. I was screaming and so was my daughter. He told us he would take her outback and shoot her.
My daughter took Chili to her bedroom. He followed her into her room, and lifted the dog, who was recovering from an attempted strangulation, and twisted her collar again, to choke her.
He lifted her into the air, and walked into the hallway, and slammed her backward and forwards against the wall. The dog was screaming. Chili pissed and pooped everywhere and became very quite, as he continued to beat her against the wall, with all he had in him. We now thought she was dead, and he stopped.
Amazingly she was was not dead. It was soon after that, that my daughter told me that she could no longer bear the treatment of Chili, and would I please take her to the vet, so that we could have her put down. I made the appointment, and we both sat there sobbing, while the vet euthanized her.
As my daughter related this event to me again today, I held back the tears and horror I had felt at that time. There are other atrocities I will talk about at a later date, as I am able to process, and work through my PTSD.
This is not the first dog to be abused in our house. What type of 'thing' can do this to an animal?

THE IRS & PTSD

Well, I made the call to the IRS, after my last blog. It turns out that I got some wonderful very helpful people. They stopped the garnishment of my wages. 2 Days later, I get a letter from my bank to say that my banking account has been attached. Monday morning I get back on the phone with the IRS, and once again, they fax off the letter to my bank and remove the lien.
Tomorrow at long last, my innocent spouse paper work goes to them. Then I got to wait up until 4 months to see if it is feasible enough for them.

This is a relief of sorts, after speaking to numerous people and having them tell me that there is no way to deal with the IRS directly, and that I needed to hire a tax attorney. With what money, I ask myself?

I feel like I am a deep dark hole, that I cannot see the light of day. I feel crippled and trapped. Am I going crazy? I use to own a very successful manufacturing company in South Africa, that I had for 15 years before I moved to the USA, to marry someone I had met on Match.

I have been to numerous doctor's and psychiatrists, trying to figure out what is wrong with me. Why can't I get it figured out in the USA? What is stalling the process?

More about all those treatments and medications that I have undertaken, all the while protesting that they have not diagnosed me correctly. For the first time on Monday, I met with a therapist, to see if EMDR therapy would help me. I walked into the room, and she asked which part of South Africa I was from? HUH? I told her that I was from Durban. She had lived in Cape Town herself and left there around the age of 30. The reason I had not picked up on her accent was that her parents were German, and her accent is different to mine.

The first consult is free to see if this is something that would be helpful. I have looked for answers for the last 5 years. Within the hour, she told me that she thought that all the diagnosis I had received, were wrong. She felt that i was suffering from PTSD. Well I go back tomorrow morning to start the work of healing myself.

How does a person go from supposed normalcy to this state of mind? Later!

IRS LIENS INNOCENT ME

OK, so I have 10 minutes before I leave to see a friend who is an accountant. She is going to get on the phone with me to the IRS, and start the process of trying to obtain an innocent spouse reprieve for me.
I have been married for 8 years to someone, who has not filed taxes with the IRS at all.
I was not allowed to open his postal mail, or look on his PC, as he had a password locking that as well.
He shoved papers under my nose, and told me to sign around August last year. Unbeknowst to me, i was signing tax returns for 2003/2004. In April of 2009 I found a letter addressed to both of us, and opened it. It was from his tax attorney, telling us that WE owed $50000 to the IRS. I immediately made an appointment to see this lawyer.
He advised me to file for innocent spouse, after hearing my story, and divorce my husband.
The qaugmire is this. I have lived in a econimically, mentally and verbally abusive marriage from the day the wedding band was slipped onto my finger. I was also isolated from my family, as I had moved 12000 miles to marry him.
I guess the joke is on ME, at the moment. Later.