During the time I spent in prison, one year, my "wife" failed to recognize that the water line burst under our home that we rented in Mesick. Over an uncertain period of time the floor began to become warped out of control, becoming extremely weakened from the moisture, to which she stood on the buckles and put her foot through while playing with the damages like a child. The landlord hired a contractor to repair the home, filing an insurance claim to have the repairs made. A contractor was hired from Cadillac. The crew he put on the job became acquainted with my "faithful" girl.
During the same period her father became to be killed by a woman named, Mary Jo Paquette- a lead representative for a very large drug manufacturer. She ran over him while he was riding his over-sized scooter- a "motorcycle" in the city of Lansing, Michigan.
In the police report Ms Paquette, claimed to be in Lansing on business but she was accompanied by a doctor... whom was married. In her statement she claimed that she was under the impression that she blew a tire. How she confused a 260 pound 6o some year old man on a motorcycle for a blown tire is a mystery. Added to the mystery is the detail that the "doctor" did not get out of the car to aid the severely injured man in the least. Jim lay there with his abdomen ripped apart, taking fifteen minutes or more to finally expire on the scene- dying in the filthy street of downtown lansing, not far from Lansing Community College, like an animal.
Ms Paquette was insured by her company for twenty million dollars. She received little more than a slap on the wrist, and was never charged with much more than careless driving. The insured amount of the deceased was whittled away to a little less than a million dollars, of which my girl was awarded a mere 90,000 dollars. Sad as it is to say, she blew the money on nothing but entertainment. 30 grand went to her son. 30 grand went to her daughter. 15 grand went to the man's only sister, which was forwarded to my girl, adding to the 15 grand that she was awarded. And further more, she entertained her daughter with a trip to Denmark in the pursuit of a sex change. The girl was 13 and never received any support as to how to care for her body, sickened with the "burden" of tending to the routine issues of being a female.
My girl became severely depressed and nearly hung herself in the barn. The construction workers apparently kept her good company. They failed to finish the job (plumbing under the house pertaining to hooking the shower drain up). Come to find out the crew was "distracted". The extent of the distraction is uncertain but my girl exhibited a new habit of hiking her pants down to bear her ass on the way to the bathroom when I came home from prison. She never did this before, and I did't think anything of it.. denying that she would ever violate my love.
During this time I was away, she also went to the animal shelter and acquired a rescue dog, an Akita/Chow with a beautiful caramel coat with chocolate streaks- a brindle. The dog's name was Cherokee.
The evening before I was released she gave Cherokee a bath, and then let her run off out into the night, around 11:00 p.m. Cherokee got ahold of a porcupine. And being the killer that she was, she got a very good hold of it, which I was to finally discover sometime around noon the DAY I ARRIVED HOME- A FULL TWELVE HOURS OR SO LATER.
Jen took her time getting me to the house, stopping off at the Manistee river along the way, where she broke it to me that I was coming home to a disaster. I ordered her to get me to the house immediately.
Cherokee came straight to me when I walked in the door. And, having been abused by men, somehow, she set her differences aside, recognizing that I was the one that needed to help since her mother let her suffer with a very many quills in her face and mouth. (I am going to cry).
Cherokee's face was extremely swollen and her mouth was drooling and bleeding. I bit my tongue regarding my feelings over the whole ordeal but went straight to work pulling as many quills as I possibly could. The quills were sticking out of her mouth. As I pulled her face towards me gently to look closer, I could easily see that the quills were through her gums and tongue. It was obvious that I was in over my head but I kept my calm and ordered my girl to look up the closest Veterinarian- even though I had absolutely no money. I could not continue pulling quills because it was only delaying the fact that this was an absolute emergency. Had I a shotgun, I would have had to put her down... if only I would have looked closer. I was sickened, especially since we already had a dog that was a horrible thing, extremely useless and defiant- also a rescue that I had to fight for in order to get for her spoiled and pampered son, who just had to have it since it looked just like Pudge, a dog that was ran over and later died at MSU's Veterinarian Hospital (earlier mentioned in this story).
We set off to Cadillac to a Vet. When we arrived the four of us went in to the waiting room where we sat and waited for others who were there before us. Patients waiting to have nails trimmed, and receive various routine shots. The receptionist did not make mention of the emergency and we were treated like vermin, especially later, after I removed myself once I realized I was becoming agitated over the treatment and waiting, while the dog lay there patiently suffering on the floor, bleeding and drooling.
My fear was that I would be sent back to prison for seeming intimidating or threatening behavior so, I went to the car to wait- nearly biting my tongue clean off. Her daughter came and waited with me. I kept silent about my sentiments.
A very many minutes later, my girl came out to the car carrying Cherokee, and crying after being treated badly by a very hostile Vet who was not Professional, abusing the dog as he berated my girl over not having any money to pay immediately. She made mention of how he threw the dog around on the table and violently jabbed her with the hypodermic needle with the anesthetic, putting the dog to sleep.
While the dog was under anesthesia, we rushed to a local hardware store, where my gal went in to buy a pair of needle nose pliers for me to go back to work pulling quills. Once I got back to pulling the quills, I realized that there were far too many, and they were also through the roof of her mouth!
We then drove to an animal rescue sanctuary that we happened to stumble upon nearby. They said that they were not able to help. They then directed us too an animal hospital a very many miles away near Honor ( the name will be added later as I am frantic to tell the story as fast as I can).
Once we finally arrived at the hospital, the Lady at the counter immediately recognized that it was an emergency, stating that they needed to do surgery and that Cherokee would be staying over night. Not once did they make reference to money in the least. The time was now around four p.m.
They sent us home stating that they would call as soon as they were done. Several hours later we received a call from the Vet, stating that they removed around 140 quills and that Cherokee was doing fine. The bill was around $650.00. Welcome home, Zachery.
I immediately called my mother and asked for her to pay the bill until I could repay her. My mother was the last person on Earth that I wanted to ask for help but I set my pride aside, and she agreed to help.
It was not but a week or so later that my faithful gal complained of feeling sick, stating that it felt much like morning sickness. And me, I am so trusting, I was quick to state that sometimes vasectomies grow back together, and we went and got a pregnancy test- it was negative. That was another 30 bucks.
Cherokee would end up being shot and killed by a neighbor due to the fact that no one listened when I insisted that she be put on a line when let outside. The cops had visited our home frequently after complaints were made. Apparently she decided that the chickens on a nearby farm were interesting since we kept them also. Incidentally my flock would also be killed by a neighbors dogs. the gate was left open after they had been tended before our daughter went to school. I awoke to the chaos, finding one young chicken that I called a moon chicken. It died hours later. And my fantasy of having turkeys in my yard.. it was just a dream. My two turkeys were also killed and eaten. They had just attained their brassy features. It still makes me sad to think of it.
During the same period her father became to be killed by a woman named, Mary Jo Paquette- a lead representative for a very large drug manufacturer. She ran over him while he was riding his over-sized scooter- a "motorcycle" in the city of Lansing, Michigan.
In the police report Ms Paquette, claimed to be in Lansing on business but she was accompanied by a doctor... whom was married. In her statement she claimed that she was under the impression that she blew a tire. How she confused a 260 pound 6o some year old man on a motorcycle for a blown tire is a mystery. Added to the mystery is the detail that the "doctor" did not get out of the car to aid the severely injured man in the least. Jim lay there with his abdomen ripped apart, taking fifteen minutes or more to finally expire on the scene- dying in the filthy street of downtown lansing, not far from Lansing Community College, like an animal.
Ms Paquette was insured by her company for twenty million dollars. She received little more than a slap on the wrist, and was never charged with much more than careless driving. The insured amount of the deceased was whittled away to a little less than a million dollars, of which my girl was awarded a mere 90,000 dollars. Sad as it is to say, she blew the money on nothing but entertainment. 30 grand went to her son. 30 grand went to her daughter. 15 grand went to the man's only sister, which was forwarded to my girl, adding to the 15 grand that she was awarded. And further more, she entertained her daughter with a trip to Denmark in the pursuit of a sex change. The girl was 13 and never received any support as to how to care for her body, sickened with the "burden" of tending to the routine issues of being a female.
My girl became severely depressed and nearly hung herself in the barn. The construction workers apparently kept her good company. They failed to finish the job (plumbing under the house pertaining to hooking the shower drain up). Come to find out the crew was "distracted". The extent of the distraction is uncertain but my girl exhibited a new habit of hiking her pants down to bear her ass on the way to the bathroom when I came home from prison. She never did this before, and I did't think anything of it.. denying that she would ever violate my love.
During this time I was away, she also went to the animal shelter and acquired a rescue dog, an Akita/Chow with a beautiful caramel coat with chocolate streaks- a brindle. The dog's name was Cherokee.
The evening before I was released she gave Cherokee a bath, and then let her run off out into the night, around 11:00 p.m. Cherokee got ahold of a porcupine. And being the killer that she was, she got a very good hold of it, which I was to finally discover sometime around noon the DAY I ARRIVED HOME- A FULL TWELVE HOURS OR SO LATER.
Jen took her time getting me to the house, stopping off at the Manistee river along the way, where she broke it to me that I was coming home to a disaster. I ordered her to get me to the house immediately.
Cherokee came straight to me when I walked in the door. And, having been abused by men, somehow, she set her differences aside, recognizing that I was the one that needed to help since her mother let her suffer with a very many quills in her face and mouth. (I am going to cry).
Cherokee's face was extremely swollen and her mouth was drooling and bleeding. I bit my tongue regarding my feelings over the whole ordeal but went straight to work pulling as many quills as I possibly could. The quills were sticking out of her mouth. As I pulled her face towards me gently to look closer, I could easily see that the quills were through her gums and tongue. It was obvious that I was in over my head but I kept my calm and ordered my girl to look up the closest Veterinarian- even though I had absolutely no money. I could not continue pulling quills because it was only delaying the fact that this was an absolute emergency. Had I a shotgun, I would have had to put her down... if only I would have looked closer. I was sickened, especially since we already had a dog that was a horrible thing, extremely useless and defiant- also a rescue that I had to fight for in order to get for her spoiled and pampered son, who just had to have it since it looked just like Pudge, a dog that was ran over and later died at MSU's Veterinarian Hospital (earlier mentioned in this story).
We set off to Cadillac to a Vet. When we arrived the four of us went in to the waiting room where we sat and waited for others who were there before us. Patients waiting to have nails trimmed, and receive various routine shots. The receptionist did not make mention of the emergency and we were treated like vermin, especially later, after I removed myself once I realized I was becoming agitated over the treatment and waiting, while the dog lay there patiently suffering on the floor, bleeding and drooling.
My fear was that I would be sent back to prison for seeming intimidating or threatening behavior so, I went to the car to wait- nearly biting my tongue clean off. Her daughter came and waited with me. I kept silent about my sentiments.
A very many minutes later, my girl came out to the car carrying Cherokee, and crying after being treated badly by a very hostile Vet who was not Professional, abusing the dog as he berated my girl over not having any money to pay immediately. She made mention of how he threw the dog around on the table and violently jabbed her with the hypodermic needle with the anesthetic, putting the dog to sleep.
While the dog was under anesthesia, we rushed to a local hardware store, where my gal went in to buy a pair of needle nose pliers for me to go back to work pulling quills. Once I got back to pulling the quills, I realized that there were far too many, and they were also through the roof of her mouth!
We then drove to an animal rescue sanctuary that we happened to stumble upon nearby. They said that they were not able to help. They then directed us too an animal hospital a very many miles away near Honor ( the name will be added later as I am frantic to tell the story as fast as I can).
Once we finally arrived at the hospital, the Lady at the counter immediately recognized that it was an emergency, stating that they needed to do surgery and that Cherokee would be staying over night. Not once did they make reference to money in the least. The time was now around four p.m.
They sent us home stating that they would call as soon as they were done. Several hours later we received a call from the Vet, stating that they removed around 140 quills and that Cherokee was doing fine. The bill was around $650.00. Welcome home, Zachery.
I immediately called my mother and asked for her to pay the bill until I could repay her. My mother was the last person on Earth that I wanted to ask for help but I set my pride aside, and she agreed to help.
It was not but a week or so later that my faithful gal complained of feeling sick, stating that it felt much like morning sickness. And me, I am so trusting, I was quick to state that sometimes vasectomies grow back together, and we went and got a pregnancy test- it was negative. That was another 30 bucks.
Cherokee would end up being shot and killed by a neighbor due to the fact that no one listened when I insisted that she be put on a line when let outside. The cops had visited our home frequently after complaints were made. Apparently she decided that the chickens on a nearby farm were interesting since we kept them also. Incidentally my flock would also be killed by a neighbors dogs. the gate was left open after they had been tended before our daughter went to school. I awoke to the chaos, finding one young chicken that I called a moon chicken. It died hours later. And my fantasy of having turkeys in my yard.. it was just a dream. My two turkeys were also killed and eaten. They had just attained their brassy features. It still makes me sad to think of it.
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