The Jody Wilson Stories by Bassam Imam - HTML preview

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Next year, we'll go to British Columbia. I heard it's very beautiful up there," said Steve.
"Well, that's too bad; I won't get to see you guys again. I truly enjoy having tenants like you at the Skyline Apartments. You guys are the epitome of what good tenants are supposed to be like; friendly, clean, and respectful of the rights of your neighbors.
I once lived in an apartment complex that was infested with roaches, rats, scum bags, addicts, drunkards, and convicts. It was terrible! I had a hard time sleeping at night.
I had to endure thundering music, shouting, and fighting from by neighbors.
We had all the 'crummy stuff' a crime-infested community could ask for. Indeed, it was a tough neighborhood. Cats prowled the dark alleys in search of lone rats. Once a lone rat was cornered, it was curtains for it." said Eric.
Eric served the Wilsons coffee and cookies, then removed his copy of the sub-lease, in order to finalize the check-out. The Wilsons were flattered by Ericson's hospitality. Certainly, he didn't have to go out of his way to please them. After all, the Wilsons were leaving the premises.
Steve handed Eric the apartment and mailbox keys, then signed the necessary papers.
The 'former tenants' were anxious, but understood that they had to return to Missouri. Life's not for free. The Wilsons had to get back to work. Thereafter, Eric would be a faded memory.
After leaving Ericson's office, the Wilsons strolled through the corridor, until spotting a dark blue sofa. Karen placed my mother's animal carrier on it. Then, she opened the animal carrier door.
In a quick move, Karen filled a vile with a blue-colored substance. My mother became apprehensive. Somehow, it seemed a bit unusual. My mother couldn’t have imagined what was in store for her.
"Come on, Mandy. Just lick up this very tasty blue milk. I think you'll love it," said Karen.
My mother raised her head, then swallowed every last drop of 'blue milk' that dropped onto her tongue. Surprisingly, the blue milk was very tasty. If that's what you want to call it.
My mother was bamboozled! I mean, she was drugged. Not quite like Cynthia, but nevertheless, put out cold.
My mother was out cold for many hours. Whatever was in that blue milk was very potent, indeed! The Wilsons wanted my mother to sleep through the entire return trip. I guess they were fed up with my mother's bitching about being inside locked up inside a small animal carrier.
My mother awakened in front of the Kansas City
International Airport's taxi stand. Indeed, my mother felt betrayed. She couldn't understand the logic behind it. Naturally, she didn't trust the Wilsons anymore.
"Sir, can you please take us to 1375 Bryson Street West, in Caseyville, Missouri?" asked Steve.
"Yes, I certainly can. I know how to get to Caseyville. Caseville’s quite a distance away. Are you sure you don't want to take the shuttle bus? It'll cost you a lot less," said the cabby.
"We want to ride home alone. We don't want to be in a crowded bus, or van. We had a very enjoyable vacation in Hawaii. The last thing we need is a last-minute problem," said Karen.
They were on their way home. Thankfully, the cabby had a good temperament. Whenever she stopped at a red light or a stop sign, she grinned at my mother. Initially, my mother thought that the cabby was sick in the head. Actually, she was a diehard cat lover.
"I love cats, dearly. In fact, I've got four cats at home. They're so cute and nice to play with. Unfortunately, I must leave them at home whenever I go to work.
I do this 'cabby work' part-time. I attend night school part time, also. I want to be a nurse. The money I earn from this job helps me pay for tuition and fees. My husband pays for everything else. My husband's a mechanical engineer. He grew up in Philadelphia. He moved to Missouri after graduating from college.
We'll move to Philadelphia as soon as I become a registered nurse. I think that my husband and I will earn a good living. My husband makes good money. He had a 3.5 GPA in his major. After graduating, he worked his brains out.
In America, if a husband and wife pull together, work very hard, and stay out of trouble, they'll be much closer to living in their dream home; a mansion with a white picket fence," said the cabby.
As soon they arrived at their destination, the cabby slowed down, then came to a full stop. Afterwards, he pulled the meter lever.
Steve handed the cabby three bills. Then, he told her to keep the change.
"Sir, madam, thank you very much. This is the biggest tip I've ever gotten. I wish you the best of luck in all of your endeavors," said the cabby.
After thanking the cabby, the Wilsons proceeded to walk to their mini-mansion. After living in an apartment for several months, the Wilsons' mini-mansion looked like a castle.
As soon as the three former vacationers were inside the mini-mansion, my mother detected an unusual scent.
"Karen, Steve! Please, stop! Remove me from this stinking animal carrier! I've been locked up inside this pathetic hellhole for way too long! Another more minute and I'll go nuts!" my mother shouted.
Karen was shocked at my mother's audacity. Nevertheless, the point was conveyed. Karen opened the animal carrier door then gently pulled my mother out. As if she needed any pulling.
As soon as my mother was free, she gently pawed the brown living room carpet five times. Her actions indicated her protest. The Wilsons were oblivious to my mother's suffering.
Shockingly, Karen thought that my mother wanted some play time outside. So, she carried her out to the front lawn. My mother wasn't in the mood to continue shouting. Besides, she had major jet lag to deal with.
Although there was a white picket fence on the periphery of the Wilson property, any cat, dog, or adult, could scale the picket fence. In fact, it was only three feet high.
"Mandy go outside and play in the yard! You can play all you want to. Steve and I need to clean up then eat. Your dinner will consist of tuna, milk, and plenty of water.
I almost forgot. If you sense any danger, run back through the 'kitty door' then scream your head off.
Sometimes naughty humans do terrible things to little kitties. Even in posh neighborhoods, like ours. Honey, please stay alert!" warned Karen.
I WANNA GO HOME!

It seemed like my mother 'almost' had it all; a beautiful home, white picket fence, companionship, play area, tasty food, clean water, veterinary care, litter box, and good health. Aside from the recent 'incarceration' she'd endured, everything seemed to be just fine.

Don't be fooled. Deep down inside, my mother understood that life wasn't a joke. Things weren't supposed to be that simple. Not counting her animal carrier ordeal, things were way too good to be true.

My mother was worried about an up and coming catastrophe. What was going to happen? My mother asked herself. Was it possible for a person to jinx him/herself? My mother wondered.

My mother's life was going to be turned upside down. It was only a matter of when and where. Never mind, the why.
Believe me, the event that shocked and destroyed my mother's will and resolve happened on a warm Sunday morning, in the month of August. The Wilsons were out eating brunch at the Pancake Castle. My mother was playing in her mini-playground.
Unfortunately, my mother let her guard down. She'd become oblivious to the 'evil-doers' who were about to destroy her life, forever.
On that dreaded morning, everything seemed normal, until something caught my mother's attention. It was a slow-moving van, that passed by the Wilsons' mini-mansion several times. The van was dark, and appeared ominous. Even the windows were tinted.
On the final pass, the driver parked the dark van across the street from the Wilson's mini-mansion. My mother took notice of it, immediately. So, she cautiously approached the perimeter of the lawn, squeezed her head through the fence postings then took a close look at the dark van.
My mother eyed the dark van for a whole minute. For some unknown reason, she went back to her mini-playground. The fact that the van was dark-colored, and had tinted windows, should have produced a red flag in my mother's defenses. In retrospect, this was a fatal error. It was an error for her and for her progeny (Jody Wilson).
Because it was Sunday, during brunch time, my mother assumed that the driver was eating. Never mind, that the driver had parked his van in a posh neighborhood. Furthermore, the neighborhood was as quiet as death.
Suddenly, a buncher, wearing blue overalls, with a beer gut, exited the van. In my mother's opinion, he was really ugly.
The buncher crossed the street then headed straight for the Wilsons' mini-mansion. Initially, my mother assumed that he wanted to ask her for directions.
As soon as the buncher noticed my mother gawking at him, he stopped then scanned the area. My mother became apprehensive.
Unfortunately, the coast was clear for the buncher. He briskly climbed over the perimeter fence. Then, he walked towards my mother.
The closer the buncher got to my mother, the more apprehensive she became. Now, she placed herself on red alert. Her adrenaline level shot up through the clouds. If need be she would've fought to the death.
"Hey kitty, don't be afraid of me. I'm a nice man. My name's Buster! I'm not one of those 'evil humans' your mommy and owners told you about. Really, I’m not kidding. I just want to be your friend.
Look, I've got a tasty snack for you. I ate three of them on my way here. I know you love fish bits. Can I get a little closer to you? Let me just hold you in my arms. You're so cute. Are you a purebred, or maybe, royalty?" asked the buncher.
Indeed, the buncher was a smooth talker. Too smooth, I must say. No doubt he was a creep.
Unfortunately, my mother didn't realize it at the time. As soon as the buncher smooth-talked my mother, she dropped her guard even lower. The man knew which buttons to push. No doubt, he was a professional.
Shockingly, my mother rolled onto her back, then relaxed. Naturally, the buncher took advantage of my mother. He knelt down then hoisted her off the ground. Afterwards, he tucked her in his arms.
The buncher glanced at the living room windows, to make sure that nobody was watching him. As soon as he was sure that the coast was clear, he ran back to his dark van. I don't know why, but, my mother's guard was still down. What the hell was she thinking of?
While running across the street, the buncher was almost struck by a blue Pontiac. The driver stopped his car then looked at the man and my mother.
Out of utter horror, the man dropped my mother. The driver of the blue Pontiac lowered her window then asked for directions to the nearest highway. Upon hearing this, the man grinned then answered her question.
The woman thanked the man then asked him if everything was all right. I guess she wasn't a cat lover. She drove off without inquiring about my mother.
The buncher ordered my mother to return to him. For some unknown reason, my mother obeyed his command; without any hesitation.
As soon as my mother was in the buncher's grasp, he smacked her across the face. He need not have said anything. It was obvious why he smacked her.
"You freaking bitch! Don't ever 'go away' like that again. I command you to stay by my side!" shouted the buncher.
The buncher opened the dark van's double doors then tossed my mother into a rusty, filthy, gooey cage. The cage door was promptly closed.

"Look, kitty! I just want to take you for a short ride in my beautiful dark van. Because my friend's in the passenger's seat, I'll have to put you in the back. You can watch the beautiful scenery," said the buncher.

My mother instantly realized that there were no windows in the back of the dark van. Furthermore, there was a metallic screen partitioning the van into two. Sadly, my mother's life would never be the same again.

Thereafter, the buncher 'hit' a half a dozen more homes with incredible speed. With each hit, he'd snatch an unsuspecting dog, or a cat. In one of the homes, he snatched three companion animals.

As the number of animals 'stockpiled' inside the dark van, the stench became suffocating. Like a chicken farm, even breathing the noxious fumes was pitifully dangerous. Everything from rust, puke, urine, vomit, pus discharge, maggots, fecal matter, blood, insects (including a few roaches), and sickness, engulfed the interior of the dark van.

After the buncher filled the interior of the dark van with hapless victims, he took hold of a night stick then goaded my mother four times. Although it hurt badly, there was no permanent damage.

In case you don't know: a buncher is a 'person' who steals companion animals from their rightful owners, in order to make a profit. Usually, this ‘person’ sells the hapless victim to an institution, rather than to a person.

The goading of my mother was a clear and visible warning: she was now a money-making, nothing! With no rights, whatsoever!
Immediately after the goading, every single animal inside the van cried. This caused the buncher to lose his temper.
Two dogs were goaded. Maybe, if they'd all yelled out for help, someone would've heard them. Or maybe, that's wishful thinking.
The buncher was working for the 'big boys'. The animals that are stolen from peoples' domiciles may end up in biomedical labs, pet stores, as fighters, or as punching bags for fighting dogs. The goal is always MONEY.
The buncher entered the dark van then began his drive to the 'secret location'. Approximately twenty minutes later, one of the dogs went nuts. He barked, yelled, screamed, and cursed the buncher and his buddy. That was a fatal error!
"Be quiet! Shut-up! I don't want to hear-it! All of you shut your freaking mouths! Or else!
Listen up: You losers are being taken to a secret location. Well, it's not really a secret location for us, only for the general public. When we arrive, you'll obey our commands. If you don't, a series of harsh penalties will be inflicted upon you!
Your new home will be Camp Puppy Mill! Your 'residency' will last until you can no longer help us, or when someone purchases you. I don't want to hear any yelping, barking, meowing, or pleading. In a short while, I'll be driving on the highway. That means I need to be on the alert. If any of you acts up, I'll beat him/her senseless. Now that we have an understanding, I'll continue my drive to 'my paycheck'," said the buncher.
The animals in the van were terrified, depressed, anxious, and confused. They clearly understood what the buncher had said to them.
The buncher entered Highway 733, heading west. He drove on the highway for roughly ten minutes then he entered Junction 485 North.
An escape attempt appeared to be virtually impossible. Wandering escapes are often dangerous.
The buncher drove on Junction 485 North for twenty five minutes, before pulling over into the curb. The animals therein froze in fear. They didn't know what to expect.
The buncher exited the van then walked towards a bushy area. He dropped his pants and underwear then urinated. While urinating, he farted seven times.
Although the animals inside the van were now hungry and thirsty, they still had it in them to laugh their brains out. Too bad, the buncher heard their laughter.
After the buncher finished doing his thing, he walked to the back of the dark van then opened the double doors. He turned around then farted into the dark van. Then, he quickly closed the double doors.
The animals inside the dark van began to gag. The smell of the buncher's fart was almost toxic. Anyhow, a minute later, the buncher opened the twin doors. The animals inside were relieved. Well, they wouldn't have if they'd known what was in store for them.
The buncher reached inside the back of the van, took hold of the same night stick then began to brutally goad a male German shepherd. The poor dog yelped and cried. It was to no avail.
Meanwhile, the German shepherd lay there, crying his brains out. None of the animals dared to cry out in protest. It was now apparent who the BIG BOSS was.
The buncher closed the double doors, then re-entered the dark van. A moment later, he resumed his drive on Junction 485 North.
The German shepherd puked his brains out. In the real world, German shepherds are tough, intelligent, and brilliant. Unfortunately, the dogs in the dark van were gradually becoming de-animalized.
Roughly thirty minutes later, a brown Dachshund began to bang his head against the cage bars. He was going mad. Stereotypical actions don't occur this soon after incarceration.
Most often, this kind of behavior can be seen in two-bit zoos, roadside menageries, and many circuses. The poor Dachshund was oversensitive to being locked up.
As soon as the Dachshund stopped banging his head on the cage bars, things began to quiet down. Some of the animals tried their hardest to get a wink, or two. More often than not, their efforts were futile. Then, a lone voice was heard.
"Please, listen- up! I don't have enough time to go through all of the details. I'll describe what kind of place we're being sent to. Please, no interruptions until I'm done with my story.
I grew up in a puppy mill somewhere in Missouri. Although I love my home state, it's probably the puppy mill capital of our beloved country. Because puppy mill animals don't pay taxes or vote, their predicament is usually ignored by powerful politicians. In that regard, don't expect help, soon.
When I was a puppy, two bunchers brutally snatched me and two of my siblings from our mother. Although our owners were dirt poor, they were very kind and loving. Overall, our family was content with our life.
The bunchers 'slithered' into our yard then quickly snatched us. My mother was sprayed with pepper spray. She totally freaked out!
Afterwards, the bunchers tossed us into filthy cages encrusted with containing dry urine, puss, rust, dirt, fecal matter, puke, blood, and other creepy stuff. Never mind, the terrible stench.
We were sent to a terrible puppy mill. It was la 'bestial concentration camp'. Nobody cared about our feelings, or health. We were given 'slop' to eat, and 'brown water' to drink. Some of our comrades ended up getting sick. Two of my neighbors died. I still don't know what happened to my siblings.
Many animals who survive the puppy mill ordeal are scarred for life. Others die behind bars.
I've forewarned you. Please behave as long as you're an inmate at the puppy mill. Also, don't you dare try to escape!" said a white toy dog.
Meanwhile, the buncher pressed hard on the gas pedal. Indeed, he was a maniac.
As if that wasn't bad enough, the buncher and his buddy were cracking sick jokes. Most of their jokes pertained to animal abuse and neglect.
Soon, the buncher was driving the dark van at 90 mph. The animals inside therein were terrified! At least two of them defecated.
Suddenly, a highway patrolman peeled out his vehicle from the shoulder of the road. He proceeded to chase the dark van down; like a predator chasing its prey.
The buncher was forced to pull over into the shoulder of the road. After coming to a halt, he turned off the ignition.
Then, the buncher 'commanded' the animals to shut their freaking mouths, or else!
Not a single animal dared utter a sound. Indeed, that was a deadly mistake! They should've waited until the right moment, before erupting into a chorus of shouting.
"Hey Andy, is my .22 still in the glove compartment? If that cop asks us to open the glove compartment, we're finished! We'll end up behind bars, like the ugly critters behind us," said the buncher.
Andy chuckled then opened the glove compartment. Afterwards, he hid the .22 underneath his seat.
The buncher told Andy to take out the vehicle registration. To enhance their image, both men put on a fake smile.
"Sir, you were driving over the speed limit! I want to see your vehicle registration and driver's license. What's in the back of the van?" asked the highway patrolman.
The buncher was so terrified he let out a gigantic fart. We could hear the highway patrolman chuckle. That fart probably saved the two bunchers. Thereafter, the highway patrolman's mood was uppity.
"Officer, we have four carpets and some articles of furniture in the back of our van. We're taking these precious goods to my grandma's home. She's very lonely, and needs wallto-wall carpeting, much furniture, and lots of love. My grandpa died of cancer last week. My grandma's been lonely ever since. I apologize for speeding. Scouts honor, I won't do it again," said the buncher.
Unbelievably, the highway patrolman believed that load of crap! He let him off with a stern warning. The animals should have made their move, there and then. The end result attests to their utter cowardice.
The highway patrolman returned to his vehicle then drove off. The buncher waited for a while, before driving off. I guess he was waiting for the highway patrolman to disappear.
Then, an ugly Labrador retriever began to swing his head erratically. He was going nuts! Yes, even animals can go nuts. My mother wondered what was going to happen to the poor Labrador. There's absolutely no use for a 'nutty dog' in a puppy mill.
As soon as the buncher took notice of the mongrel's erratic behavior, he pulled over into the shoulder of the road. Then, he turned off the ignition. After exiting the dark van, he pondered about what to do.
The buncher decided to take drastic action. His response was a stern lesson to the other animals inside the van. Now, there would be no doubt that the criminals in this sleazy enterprise would do anything to make a buck.
The buncher laconically grabbed a night stick then goaded the mongrel a total of fourteen times. This time, no holds were barred. He used momentum and brute strength upon his defenseless victim.
The Labrador screamed in terror! The other animals began to bark and meow, without any let-up. Before long, there was a lot more feces, urine, and vomit, in an around the cages. It stunk like a rats' sewer!
In an act of noble courage, a black and white colored pleaded with the buncher to show some mercy. The buncher snarled at the cat then spat on her. The buncher had no limits to his evil ways.
As soon as the goading episode ended, the buncher returned the night stick. Although the buncher seemed like he wanted to inflict more damage onto the Labrador, he ended up returning to the driver's seat. Well, that's what it looked like.
The buncher took the .22 from Andy then he walked to the back of the van. After bitching-out the Labrador, he pointed pressed the .22 in the Labrador's face. The Labrador was in a state of utter terror. He spontaneously defecated and urinated. Then, he vomited his brains out.
"Listen-up: the next time one of you creatures makes a sound, this 'scummy- dog' will be executed! I'm dead serious!" shouted the buncher.
The Labrador's eyes rolled then he fell onto his back. He looked like a zombie-dog.
The buncher closed the double doors then got back into the dark van.
A few miles later, the buncher made a right turn on the first 4-way intersection. He headed straight to Jimmy's Burger Joint parking lot.
The buncher turned off the ignition then told Andy that they were going to eat-like-pigs. They exited the dark van then walked to Jimmy's Burger Joint.
By now, the animals inside the dark van were famished. Slabs of saliva were being dropped onto the van floor.
The animals were hoping that the bunchers would bring back a few dozen burgers for the animals to eat.
The animals inside the dark van fantasized about sizzling burgers, entering into their mouths.
The bunchers returned an hour later. They were wearing big smiles. In addition, they smelled like burgers, fries, pop, and apple pie. Sadly, their hands were empty. This was a glimpse of things to come. What would it be like at the puppy mill? A reasonable question the animals asked themselves.
The bunchers entered the dark van then they were off. After exiting the parking lot, the buncher resumed his drive to the puppy mill. The smell of burgers was tormenting the animals.
Approximately a half an hour later, the buncher entered a 'quiet street', the proceeded to drive for another fifteen minutes. He slowed down to a halt, looked both ways then entered dirt road. It was apparent that the puppy mill was close by. Worse yet, it was hidden away in some remote area.
The final stretch was terrifying for the animals. It was the typical side road to hell. Henceforth, there'd be no more highways, junctions, or civilization. The animals were now within spitting distance of hell-on-earth.
The animals were too terrified to complain about the jouncing on the dirt road. For all they knew, the buncher would've accelerated, in retaliation.
CAMP PUPPY MILL

Finally, they were at the 'doorstep' of Camp Puppy Mill. Pain, agony, torment, confusion, terror, hunger, thirst, sickness, stench, apprehension, and death, were in the air. The puppy mill stunk like a sewer pit. Actually, it was worse.

The buncher slowed down, then came to a halt. He pulled out his cell phone then called someone working inside the puppy mill. After getting clearance, the security guard allowed buncher to enter the Camp Puppy Mill.

The buncher carefully drove the dark van to a parking space then turned off the ignition. He and Andy laughed up a storm. They were happy to have made a big haul. Big hauls equal much money.
A rugged man with a thick voice approached the dark van then ordered the bunchers out. In fact, he told them to get on the move. No doubt, he was a big man on the premises.

"Hey, how many creatures did you snatch for us this time?" asked the rugged man.
"Mr. Administrator, we've got about a dozen creatures in inside the van. We worked extra hard, just to please you. Because my cousin Andy and I are moving to Pennsylvania, we decided to end our employment with a big blast. These creatures are more precious than gold!" responded the buncher.
"Fantastic! Although I'm sad to see you guys go the creatures in the van will net me a lot of money. Now, let me calculate your pay," said the Administrator.
The animals had become nothing more than 'money machines'. Escape was absolutely impossible. Furthermore, it was apparent that the puppy mill workers (PMWs) would take an escape attempt personally. No doubt, retaliation would be swift and harsh.
After the Administrator paid the bunchers, they quickly exited Camp Puppy Mill. I guess that's what criminals do best; make a fast getaway. This category of criminals tends to be on the move, often. Looking over their shoulders; not knowing when the cops will nab them. Believe me, in the end, they usually regret their life of crime. Somewhere, or somehow, it'll get back to them.
Smart cats, like yours truly know this. Our species has been with humans for eons. We've seen wars, civil wars, genocide, murders, rapes, molestations, beatings, starving, fights, racism, persecution, witch hunts, and many other humancaused-atrocities, committed in the name of whatever the perpetrators feel justifies their horrendous actions. Cats, and other animals, are almost always the forgotten victims in human wars! Cats hate that!
An example of incredible human and animal suffering during a conflict includes the siege of Leningrad, and the Ukrainian Holocaust (1932-33). Sometimes the Ukrainian holocaust is referred to as the Holodomor.
Holodomor is the Ukrainian word for great famine. This is not a strong enough word to describe what happened to the 7 million plus innocent Ukrainian peasants who were deliberately starved to death. Also, many were executed or sent to Siberia.
Stalin's forces were so ruthless anyone who didn't appear to be starving was punished. Furthermore, foodstuffs and supplies were deliberately confiscated or destroyed. You can't live long without food.
The intent was genocide, destruction of the Ukrainian peasantry (by imposing Stalinist collectivization), and abolish Ukrainian nationalism.
In both Leningrad and the Ukraine, as famine set in, even companion animals became food. Of course, the companion animals were also starving. After dogs and cats were eaten, rats came next. Finally, there were cases of human-on-human cannibalism. This was a last ditch effort to survive and eat.
We can't blame the humans who did this, until we've endured what they had to endure. For some reason, bitterly cold regions bring out cannibalism faster than in warmer regions. Smart companion animals know better. They scram before it's too late.
Animals have been used as, byproducts suppliers, traction, entertainment, slavery, celebrities, protectors, companions, subjects of vivisection, punching bags, ridicule, torture, objects of scorn, mummies, and even worship.
These humans seem to forget that cats are incredible beings. We've done a lot of good for this world. Cats have made countless humans and animals much happier, and healthier.
Some cats have a lifelong fear of humans. Terrible childhood experiences with humans, or, no contact with humans for the first few weeks of life can cause this