Here is a link to an interesting article:

http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/law/10/11/bondage.death.ap/index.html

To summarize, two men into bdsm met over the internet. One man was a Dominant, the other a submissive, and they decided to meet and play. Unfortunately, the submissive died during their playtime. The Dominant detailed what happened in a letter then he killed himself. The family of the submissive is now suing the estate of the Dominant, alleging wrongful death.

As the title says, this raises a lot of interesting questions. Since the submissive consented, is the Dominant liable? It seems to me that he did feel some responsibility, and, indeed, he broke a very important rule of bdsm. A submissive should NEVER be left bound and alone. That rule is to prevent the very thing that happened. The man suffocated, and the Dominant was not there to help him.

Another rule is that the submissive needs a safe word or signal so he/she can let the Dominant know if things are too rough or if he/she is in trouble. I don’t know if these two had arranged a signal, but since the Dominant wasn’t there, it’s a mute point. He would not have seen/heard it anyway.

I assume that if the Dominant hadn’t committed suicide, he would have been charged with something, most likely murder. I would think that manslaughter would have been more appropriate. He didn’t mean to kill the sub, but he was definitely neglectful, leading to the man’s death.

All of this points out the need to be very careful in play. There are rules, or at least accepted norms, and they are there for a reason. It’s okay to have fun, but remember to BE SAFE.

It’s October. You know what that means. CHRISTMAS!! The displays are popping up in the stores, crowding out the Halloween decorations, just waiting for November 1 so they can go into FULL BLOOM.

Have you started to think about it yet? Master has given me a couple of hints, and I have bought him some presents. I have been thinking about what to give my kids. I will also admit that I have begun to think about travel plans and decorating, and I have hummed a few Christmas carols under my breath.

So, how about you? Are you ready for the season?

Sunday night I was returning home at 10:30 pm. I had been at a conference and a visit to my father’s. I had been driving for four hours in the rain, and my 13 year old son was with me. Twenty miles from home, the van quit. I don’t why. We were traveling down the read and the oil and battery lights went on. The van had quit.

I didn’t get the van pulled off the road. At least I was in a spot where traffic had to slow down for a stop sign, but it was not an ideal situation. I tried to restart the van. Although it turned over, the engine wouldn’t catch. I was afraid I would simply flood it.

I would have liked to call Master. He is the one I turn want to turn to automatically. But what could he do? He was 1200 miles away; it was late at night. His first priority would be for me to make sure I was safe. Instead of calling Master, I called a friend of mine from my town. She agreed to come right away. After I finished talking to her, I tried the van again. It started right up. I called her back and she didn’t have to come get me in the rain. But she would have.

Ah, it’s nice to have friends.

I have talked a lot about Chip and his death. But I want you to appreciate his life, so I will try to condense into words his time with me.

I first met Chip 5 years ago. I did not have a dog at that time (unusual for me) and I would occasionally go through the local humane society. I thought when I saw “my” dog, I would know it. Five years ago, I saw him.
Chip was in one of several kennels with a sad look on his face. He projected patient, sad-eyed forbearance. He was not happy in his situation, but he was simply waiting it out. Chip’s story was that he had been owned for several years by a woman who was going through a divorce and had to give him up. He would readily beg, which was quite charming, and with prompting would roll over for food. I looked at the card on his kennel, which explained why no one had adopted him. It said he was 8 years old, already a senior citizen in dog years. To make matters worse, they had classified him as a Saint Bernard. Those dogs are huge! Poor Chip weight 50 pounds. He was definitely NOT a Saint Bernard.

I took Chip home that day. He was so very happy to be out of the kennel situation. I got the feeling that he never completely got over losing his first home. It was those sad eyes of his. Although, perhaps in the later years he did see us as his home and family.

I learned over the years of Chips personality. The patient, sad-eyed forbearance was his trademark. It was how he approached life. I learned that Chip was very well housetrained. He had hated the kennel because he couldn’t get out often enough to do his business. If he did have an “accident” in the house, it was YOUR fault, not his. I also think his first owner did not allow him on the furniture. Personally, I didn’t care, but after I went to work he could jump on my bed for a nap. A few times I came back to get something and he would give me a look that said “I’ve been caught”. I always told him I don’t mind, enjoy your nap.

I trained Chip in obedience and showed him at several shows. I have a picture of him at the State Fair that first year, where he won first place in his class. He did quite well at several shows, but he only did the obedience work with his patient tolerance of something he felt he was required to do. After 3 years, his performance was slipping. In retrospect, I think some of that was because he was older and I would take him to two or three day shows, or enter him in two classes. The poor dog was tired. But I learned to pull back and not enter him so much.

In 2005 I entered him in the State Fair once more. I told him and anyone else that would listen that if he did well, he would be retired. I wanted Chip to finish on a good note. Well, that year he once again took first place. I kept my word and retired him.

Throughout the years Chip approached everything with his usual grace. Perhaps that is what I will most remember him for.

This was Master’s recent comment on my blog about the loss of Chip. (By the way, AMOL, thank you for the hugs). Master’s comment meant so very much to me.

Master’s simple words validated my feelings on the loss of my companion. They acknowledged that Chip’s death will leave behind a sad emptiness.

More importantly, to me, at least, his words validate Chip’s life. Chip’s presence touched others. Master only met him for a few days, but to know that he will be missed by someone he touched so briefly is means a lot to me.

When Chip died, I wished Master could say or do something. I didn’t think he could, yet he has managed to do so with those simple words.

I will miss that dog.