postheadericon SAD BUT TOO TRUE: BP AGAIN






Please pass this information along to whomever you know that is not yet a
member of IFDCO (Illinois Federation of Dog Clubs and Owners) so that they
will be informed of this action on the part of our state. I never thought I
would live so long to see "armed" escorts needed for dog breeders! Even
those breeders who do not need to be licensed need to have meticulous
records available in case of an investigation. I also question about the
sales tax license being for "general merchandise" . If anyone has a CPA or
tax attorney who can decipher the IL sales tax code please let me know.
IFDCO asked three different CPA’s about this when it first surfaced a few
months ago and received three different answers. The only common advice for
breeders was to keep good records.

While this is news for Illinois, those of you in other states need to be
prepared as well, it’s only a matter of time before this kind of activity
hits your state. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy that our revenue
departments and criminal
investigation units have so much extra time on their hands they can afford
to drive to every dog breeder to "investigate" and collect sales tax. Craft
fairs, garage sales and lemonade stands will be next for an armed visit.

Michele Kasten

Belle City Kennel Club
Schipperke Club of America
Illiana Schipperke Club
Schipperke Club of Greater St. Louis
GSD Club of Southern Illinois
Midwest Schipperke Rescue
Schipperke Club of Greater St. Louis, President and Rescue Chair
President and Co-Founder, Midwest Schipperke Rescue


Permission to cross post:


It has happened here in Illinois. A Senior Investigator and her armed
escort from the Illinois Department of Revenue Bureau of Criminal Investigations
has shown up on the door steps of a person who holds a Kennel License in
Illinois demanding to see their dog sales records and accusing them of
criminal wrongdoing. The investigator knew exactly how many dogs this
person had sold in the past 36 months. What they didn’t know is that most of the
dogs sold by this individual were sold to out of state clients, so no sales
tax needed be collected on over 75% of their dog sales. This is not a puppy
mill operation. This is a breeder of over 30 years who has quality dogs,
shows dogs, and has a boarding kennel. They are just like you or I. The
Investigator forced this individual to show up in Springfield, obtain a
sales tax license for the sale of general merchandise and then proceeded to
go thru their records from the Department of Agriculture for the past 3
years. By the end of the day, they had to pay all back sales taxes, fines
and interest on their fines.

We had heard last year that the Illinois Department of Revenue had
requested a list of all individuals who were licensed as dog breeders in
the state from the Department of Agriculture – I guess it is true. This person
was made an example. They were told that they were being made an example
and others would soon follow.

A person at the Department of Revenue told this individual that they had
been instructed to bleed anyone to get money as the state is so broke.

What can you do? If someone knocks on your door and shows you a business
card or a badge, have them wait outside and you should call your accountant
and or your lawyer. Don’t do anything without legal representation. Think
about only selling your dogs out of state – so that no sales tax needs to
be collected. Once they knock on your door, the statue of limitations is 3
years that they can request your records.

Steve Hayden
President, IFDCO

postheadericon DON’T BUY FROM BP!!!

I don’t know about you, but I am totally thoroughly outraged about our precious Gulf coast being assaulted by oil from a BP well—a well that should never have been drilled five miles under the ocean floor without safety nets in place.   I am outraged by BP’s excuses, its lies, its taking shortcuts and hoping nothing bad would happen, and its worship of the almighty dollar to feed its investors their dividends each quarter.  BP is not an American company; why is it operating off our shores. How many politicians has BP bought in order to do the deep drilling it has knowing the possible dangers to our environment and its personnel.  It is our environment, not the UK environment that is being ruined in the Gulf: our shrimp and fish, our bird life, our beaches, our tourist industry  and the livelihood of our people are all being insulted by oil.  Wasn’t Alaska enough of a wake up call ?  When will we as a nation realize that the oil industry does not have a ecological collective bone in its profit geared body.  How long has the oil industry lobbied those in Washington for its own ends and certainly not for the good of the American people.  When will we become fed up with corporate gluttony at the expense of our fragile ecosystems.  Stop buying BP.  Let it feel the results of their greed in their pocketbook as money is all that matters to BP and every other oil company.  Our last president was part of the oil industry and his presidency showed his partiality. Our present president needs to take charge and take charge now without giving BP any benefit of the doubt.  I believe so much is being kept from public knowledge about this whole horrible situation.  Start rattling the cages of legislators to do a thorough, unbiased investigation and stop buying gas from BP!!!

postheadericon Update on Al


When I got home from visiting with the Thaeders in S. Carolina, Al was due to go in for his chemo.  His chemo consists of sending a “cocktail” through the femoral artery directly into his liver.  He has had two chemo treatments into one lobe of the liver and it looks like the biggest tumor has receded a bit, but the largest tumor in the other lobe has grown. This treatment was directed at that tumor and all went smoothly; Al spent the night at the hospital and then came home.  Then the trouble began or as the Irish would put it “the troubles.”  Al was home only a day or so when he began to act strangely; “strange"  became stranger and stranger. He began to hear and see things that were not there and not the Easter Bunny or Santa. He thought he had whole phone conversations that he didn’t really have; heard the television on when it was not, ditto for the car radio.  If it wasn’t so scary, it would have been hysterical as he woke me up in the middle of the night yelling that the television was on.  We have far too many televisions in this house and it took me a bit to go room to room so I could report back that there was no TV on.  He began to tell me that he thought he was losing his mind and by this time I thought I was losing mine.  His hallucinations began to get worse and I thought he was heading into dementia. Of course he was lucid and sane enough to refuse to go to the ER.  Fortunately one of my friends, a physician was visiting when “the troubles” were coming to a head.  I finally tracked down the on call doctor from the oncologist group, who told me to get him to the ER.  Only after I finally put Al on the phone with the doctor, did Al relent and agree to go in.  He would have relented anyway as I said I was calling the squad so the men with the straight jackets could get him.  Finally, we get to the ER where we waited for ten hours in a room as all kinds of tests were run as no one could figure out his problem. I cannot be sweet and nurturing to Al as he just won’t respond to my “Florence Nightingale”bedside manner; I need to be rather hard because Al will not try to go along with what is best for him. At this point Al was repeating “this is the most miserable night of my life” and “I want to go home” complaints; Al is John Wayne through and through. One does not baby John Wayne. So I was relying on drill sergeant persona to keep the medical staff on its toes and Al under control when one of the nurses going off shift informed me as she left that she did not think I was being nice to my husband and she was glad she was going off shift so she did not need to talk to me anymore.  Such professional understanding of the state of affairs as I tried to keep all together without becoming a puddle on the floor.  I refrained from just smacking her.  Meanwhile the CAT scan of Al’s head showed nothing abnormal; his rocks were intact. Other tests showed a couple of deficiencies but nothing to cause the dementia. However, after telling the docs again and again (each new doctor or nurse asks the same questions over and over) what meds Al was taking, one of the ER docs thought that Al might have a reaction to the antibiotic Cipro which can cause dementia in the elderly;  so my darling curmudgeon was admitted for a barrage of tests and spent a few days in the hospital. The antibiotic was the culprit, but also medications needed to be adjusted a bit.

I requested a wheelchair for him so we could attend his granddaughter’s graduation more easily. Of course he initially fought me over using the chair, but capitulated to my commander in chief tactics and told me later, when seriously prompted, that the chair indeed was a big help. Why do men fight the battle when they know damned well they will lose the war when engaged in combat with their wives.

Al has since had a visiting nurse and a physical therapist at home. This chemo and, of course, his reaction to Cipro hit him terribly hard.  He is quite weak; Al has been a strong guy all his life: stoic and tough. John Wayne to the core.  He is not taking old age with grace.  Even as awful as he felt after the chemo and before and after the hospitalization for the reaction to Cipro, he insisted that he was going to mow the lawn on the zero turn.  I know what battles to chose and this one I could not win. Just keep my tough old guy in your prayers please. 


My friend Leanne Bertani, who gave her “Rosie” and my “Callie” a wonderful home for so many years, recently informed me of the passing of Rosie.  Callie, Rosie’s constant companion, is now 16 and the dam of my beloved “Wendy,” Ch. Rattlebridge Dutch Treat, ROM. 

From Leanne: “Tullamore Guns & Roses: Ch Werrington Buoyancy of Rattlebridge x Sweet Lover of Wye) passed away this morning.  She had pretty good quality of life, never a cough, never any shortness of breath; she just didn’t want to eat last night, unusual for such a chow hound who normally would take your hand off for a piece of chicken. Her back legs were getting weak, so we had planned a euthanasia for Saturday when all the kids could be present.  She spared me the decision and passed away the day before it was planned.  Part of me was grateful and part of me wished I could have been holding her — she passed in her sleep, lying in my den with her friend Callie.  Laura and I took her to Schoedingers this morning; we will probably spread her ashes at a later date.”  RIP dear Rosie.


postheadericon HAPPY MEM0RIAL DAY