Normally, I write about politics. Politics is important. No doubt about it. It’s what drives the country, for better or worse. I’ll go with the latter.
And it’s what we write and read about on a daily basis. Some earn a good living doing it. But it’s not the be all, end all – or shouldn’t be. Family and friends are what should be most important and should trump everything – but God. When it comes down to it, it should be the care and love of our fellow man (and woman), not our political party.
But what happens when you discover that a friend or loved one has suffered abuse at the hands of a spouse or someone else he or she trusted?
My first instinct as a sheepdog is to see to it that the offender doesn’t see the light of the following day, but then I come to my senses.
As an aside – the definition of sheepdog, explained by Col. David Grossman, is as follows:
“If you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen: a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath – a wolf. But what if you have a capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? Then you are a sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the hero’s path.”
Many of us, I dare to say the majority, live our whole lives without knowing someone who has been abused, or if we do, aren’t willing or capable of doing something about it. Well, I intend to do something.
I, like most males (I hope), was brought up understanding that a man shall never strike a woman – ever – I mean, short of being confronted by a female assassin. That happens to me every week! No, it doesn’t.
But sadly, it seems, many are not like you and me. Many cowardly dirtbags either can’t control their tempers or find it somehow enjoyable to abuse women.