Don't stereotype my just because I'm southern

These are replies I wish I could have given to guest who asked me these questions.
Yes, I am a southerner, born and bred. I am not a hick and even got farther than a H.S. education. Our lives are like yours-not a continous Dukes of Hazzard movie. No, my accent isn't any cuter than your N.J. one, which actually sounds rather harsh to my ears. No, not everybody in the south likes dog fighting. In fact, I bet 95% of us find it appalling. Yes, there is still racism in the south-witness the Jena 6. Things like that make my blood boil. No, I am not in the klan and nobody in my family has ever worn one of those hideous robes. No, we are not lazy. When you see us sitting on the front porch with a cool glass of iced tea about 11a.m., it's because we are waiting for it to cool off. We have probably already done several hours work while it was still cool. We have enough sense to get out of the heat in the middle of the day. Yes, native Floridians used to have southern accents. Just so you know, native Floridians should be on the endangered species list. We can't afford it and a lot of us no longer want to live in our paved over home state. No, Disneyworld is not the best thing to ever happen in that state-it was the worst. If you can find a native Floridian from Orlando, just ask them. Yes, I have picked cotton. My Grandfather had a small patch of it growing along with his vegetable garden. I have picked and shelled peas with the best of them-my aunts and learned a lot about life while doing it. Yes, I have seen snow. I don't find anything about it particularly appealing, except for being briefly pretty. No, I don't consider Gone With the Wind a true picture of southern women. You want true southern women, go rent Steel Magnolias. Yes, I have eaten gator-it's good, but it doesn't taste like chicken-tastes like gator. No, I don't know anybody crazy enough to wrestle the things. Down here, we think that's nuts. Besides, we were raised not to play with our food.

Goodbye to a great dog

Our dog, Red, died yesterday at 14 years old. He was 6 months old when we rescued (stole) him from his abusive owners. He looked like his mom, who was a golden retriever, but had jaws like his pit bull dad. The people we took him from had the whole litter of puppies because they owned the dad and he escaped from their house and attacked the mom's owner to get to the mom. They would give the puppies alcohol and drugs and laugh when they staggered around and acted stupid, just like them. They didn't miss him for 2 weeks-and didn't care that he was gone. He was really sweet and loved the cats to pieces. They knew he would protect them from things in the woods that wanted to eat cats. He did accidentally kill a kitten once and you knew by the look on his face he was sooo soorry. He was about 8 months old then and just played with it too rough. When an angry me got out there and told him that he had killed it, I think he understood-he knew he messed up-his little buddy wasn't moving and Mom was scolding him. He was a great watchdog and if you were crazy enough to come the drive and get out of the car without one of us tellng him it was ok, he would snarl at you. He liked basic dog stuff, riding in the car, and getting treats. He also liked Skits-that was his cat. They would pile up together in the winter. Skits was crying all morning yesterday-even before Red died. I'm conviced he knew what was happening with his old friend. We buried him in his favorite spot in the yard and Skits was there, too. So rest well, my friend-you were the best dog ever. I'm gonna miss you.