Merry's Thoughts, the God, the Bad Dreams and Wishes

December 2, 2012

Hello!  It has been so long since I have posted a thing in this blog.  I haven't been able to get into it, first of all. Second of all, my life went through many changes and some hard times this last year and a half.  Some of them I am still  recovering from.  But today, I'd like to start anew.  If I don't like the way this shows up, I will just plain start a new blog, even if I have to pay someone to design it and help me with it. I loved blogging, I find it therapeutic and I want to start doing it again.Even if no one else reads it.  I think Blogs are mainly written for the author anyway. I hope that all is well with all of you. God Bless you and hopefully I will be back and writing again soon! 

Love you all,
Merry

NONOFFICIAL THERAPY DOG

Just Sharing

Dogs, in my experience have an inherent sixth sense into human emotions, far more so than people.

A prime case is Sir Winston. As many of you know, who arereading these words, Sir Winston came into my life as a rescue. The Lhaso-Apso/angel mix was dangerously close to death when I adopted him. His undernourished, frail body covered in overgrown matted fur epitomized the term pitiful. Yet, in those deep set brown eyes, that unblinkingly stared at me, I saw a glimmer of hope. He has never proven me wrong yet. Within weeks he transformed into a healthy, loving and treasured companion' and his weight doubled. That was two and a half years ago.

Over the past year, my life has suffered many set backs. I amin a middle of a highly emotionally charged divorced, lost my home, and I almost lost my father to a staph infection that went rampant. My father's infection ended up bursting both ear drums and took root in his ears, nose and throat. That pushed my 82 year old father to the brink and he spent three weeks in an intensive care unit. This was followedby several traumatic weeks in a nursing hospital and then ultimately home.

I took it upon myself to move in with him and be his caregiver. We both appreciated he would get better attention, and be more comfortable, both emotionally and physically, in his own environment.

Naturally, my two dogs Chester and Sir Winston were also relocated. It was a test of wits for all of us for those first few days. Anyone who has experienced a similar situation can attest that it taxes the bounds of sanity on a daily basis. However one common thread seemed to hold us all together -- Sir Winston. Oh, trust me, my beloved Chester also paid his part' but Winston seemed more in tune to the seriousness of my dad's condition. It was ten days into his recovery when it happened. My fatherfell while attempting to use his walker in the middle of the night. All, he wanted to do was go to the bathroom. He is fiercely independent, and naturally having to rely on someone else for even the basics is damaging to his pride. My father fell and fractured his hip. Due to his other health concerns it was several days beforethe doctors dared to risk surgery. And even then I was warned of the risks involved. He suffers C.O.P.D. and is on blood thinner due to heart arrhythmia.

The surgery was successful and he was swiftly moved into a rehab center.

It was on the second day there that I noticed a contented Pug on the lap of a smiling patient as she was being pushed about the facility.

The next day I decided to take Sir Winston. The fuss began as soon as we entered the facility. Or letme rephrase that. The attention and fuss began to be centered onWinston. It seems everyone he encountered was left with a smile on their face. Be it administrators, nurses, physical therapists, and, most significantly, the patients. Naturally, I allowed Winston to return the love he was receiving. It took me twenty-five minutes to make it in to see my father. My father, not one to normally show emotion, grinned from ear to ear like a proud grand parent with a new born baby on show. On today's visit, after taking another twenty plus minutes to get to my father, he was in the physical therapy room. Once again, Winston became the center of attention as he went from one patient to the next. He took it all in stride -- in fact I swear my little dog was grinning himself. It seems as if I have an unofficial therapy dog on my hands.

Technically, I don't think he is supposed to be there. But when the staff sees the joy he brings to everyone they obviously approve. Winston made several new friends today -- all of whom are looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow' and the next day. I suspect my visits to the rehab center are going to get longer and longer. I, for one, am happy to do it, and I know for a fact that SirWinston is as well.

Credit for this goes to-- P.S. Gifford

Hope you all enjoyed this one.
Love,
Merry

Best Husband Award & Davenport Trip

YI, YI, YI!
Tonight we decided to have McDonalds. (I always get the new Mac Wrap, it is small but enough for me with a lite yogurt or jello). Dave went and got it. I hate onions, but this is SO FEW, and w/out onions, it's dry....usually I can't tolerate onions, but these I can)....Dave gets no onions). Well, he got them for me. I was furious, beyond what I should be (Mad as hell, threw a hissy fit) (& went to McDonald's to get my own regular Mac snack!) Dave's car was in the drive (I forgot about that, mine was in the garage, and I had to back down the drive. As usual I make sure I clear the snow blower on the right side of the garage. BUT, because I was mad, I go ZOOMING out of the drive and ?????????????? You got it......I scraped Dave's car with my left front mirror. ALL THE WAY down the side of his car. Just because I was mad he didn't get my Mac right. Holy smokes. I told him immediately when I got back because 1. I can't not tell him stuff like "Dave what happened to your car???????????"==Fake it.) And, #2 I was guilty! Really he couldn't have been harder on me than I was being on myself.

Well, this has a happy ending. I stated to try to get it off, but Dave got some polish or scratch stuff he had in the garage and proceeded to get it ALL OFF! Hallelujah! Praise God! But I learned a valuable lesson, don't take your anger out by going fast, (look what happened.)

Hot temper tantrums don't solve anything, and I hope you don't have to wait until you are 60 to find this out (or learn it the hard way). We have a fairly high deductible on the cars, and on our fixed income, It would have been very difficult for us to come up with the deductible cash to fix it!!

He spent 5 days in Davenport, IA trip seeing my friends, as we weren't able to get ahold of his brother! It's pricey to motel it for that many nights, and eat out, etc. But he knew I needed to see my friends. (It had been 10 yr since I had been in Davenport, (*Dave had been periodically on for business and so he's seen some friends and family then.) Bless his (Dave's) heart. We lived there for the first 19-20 yr. of our married life, and Tim grew up there. The trip was good for us, especially me, we went by every place we'd ever lived and saw a few of my dear friends--Besides we went to our "surrogate niece's" wedding (One of my lifelong best friend's daughters, a friend I worked with for years and am very close to got married.) That wedding definitely was priceless, and worth the world to both of us, to see beautiful Christina's big day! (For me to see my friend Tory, who, like her daughter, is as beautiful on the outside as she is on the inside, and for me to spend time with my one my oldest Best Friend (over 45 yr.), Lynn.

Then, a BIG added BONUS: We also were able to stop and see Tim, Patti and our grandkids on our way home! Joe has the neatest toothiest smile and is now a toddler not a baby (16 mo. old) he still has a halo in tact! Jack is becoming so grown up (He's so funny, and smart, and I enjoyed watching some episodes of "Curious George" with Jack in the bedroom. He explained the stories to me. He's so enthusiastic talking a mile a minute....and then boom, all of a sudden, he is sound asleep. I just laid there looking at him. Thinking of how blessed we are to have him. And the years turned back, Jack reminded me of a little boy who once was small, named Tim who used to wear a baseball hat whether awake or asleep, too! Oh, the Grandchildren are darling, and precious and growing up so fast! We got to see their new dash hound puppy, Betty. She's super cute! With a great personality! Tim and Patti were great hosts & Besides cooking a great supper, Patti gave me a beautiful silk scarf she got for me when she was in India for work a few months ago. They always make us feel so welcome!

About my mishap: I know I probably wouldn't be that nice. His car may be just an Impala, but it's loaded and a beauty AND MORE importantly- The first car he ever paid off!

So! Now, don't you think I am lucky? Remind me of this IF I complain about him. :)

Had to brag, but in reality, I am honestly just very thankful. that Dave is like he is (a nice guy) & to God because this wasn''t worse than it was! I was lucky this time. It's never dull living with me. If you actually read all of this, thanks, you must indeed really be a good friend to me as I try to be to you!

Safety First, Be careful, cuz cars are expensive & lethal weapens.
Merry

A Good Life: Adding the Final Touches

A Good Life: Adding The Finishing Touches

by Lynne Wisman
Sunday June 24, 2010--SOURCE:The Globe Gazette (Mason City, IA)

To my dearly beloved children:
In your eyes and heart I am a very special person because I am your Mother. I'm grateful for that! I feel the same about you. You are special and I have invested much in you, including all of my love. It was a wonderful journey composed of good and bad calls and lack of sleep. It was worth everything we put into it.

Now it's a different journey. This journey is for your father and me. We've spent a lifetime taking care of other people. The rest of our lives will be labeled, "Ours."

Let me explain why I'm telling you this:
We want you to understand why we sometimes say no.

No, we don't want to do that this weekend. No, we're not coming over. No, we're not going to "Grab a plane." No we're not going to take care of the grandchildren. No, we're not going to babysit your dogs. No, we don't want to go on a cruise. No, no, no."

Don't mistake the word "no" for "They don't love me." We do love you. You truly will never know how much. But here's the thing: You are too young to recognize the sound of a ticking clock. We recognized it long ago.

An alarm goes off one morning and it's a wake up call. The message is straightforward: Time is evaporating faster than an out-of-control train, and it's taking us with it.

Parents sacrifice everything to raise their children. You know that, for you have children of your own.

We not only raised you but some of your friends as well. We took care of pets, helped our parents, did volunteer work when it was necessary and a thousand other things required to keep a family well-balanced.

It was the most worthwhile job we've ever had in spite of living in a human zoo. We loved it even when the power bill was out of sight because curling irons were on 24/7, and when we lost our hearing because your digitals were torqued to the max.

We loved it through trikes and bikes, boyfriends, girlfriends, proms, thousands of sporting events in the rain, and a complete depletion of financial resources.

They were such good years and today we have beautiful young adults that we are proud to present to the world. Society wants and needs young adults that will make a difference. Society not only got what was needed, we gave it to them in spades.

That was then: It was yesterday, last week, last decade, last time. It was our final contribution.

Today society can stuff it. And you, my darling children will eventually understand the evolution of attitude in relation to time: What is left is for us. We earned it, it's ours, and we're going to take it.

Life is short and there are no guarantees. With evaporation of time comes a do-it-now urgency.

This doesn't mean we are trading you for something else. What we are doing is taking time for all of the things we never had time for until now. Your father and I are putting the finishing touches on a good life.

I know it's surprising, but we've finally grown backbones and learned how to say, "No."

We don't want to hurt your feelings, but for us it's very much about the value of the days that are left.

We know that you love us enough that you will forgive us when you find we are set in our ways and stubborn beyond belief. It comes with the growth of backbones.

One day you will look upon this time and realize ours was a surgical division from past responsibilities, not a psychological division from you.

Loving you is the greatest of joys.

Looking forward to the rest of our lives with a freedom we've never experienced is a gift we owe to ourselves!

One day, you too will receive this gift. Use it as we intend to use ours, to celebrate the past and to step into the future.

We will always love you. You are the greatest gift of all!
*****************************************************************************************************************************************

A Christmas Shelter Dog's Poem

’Tis the night before Christmas and all through the town,every shelter is full—we are lost, but not found.

Our numbers are hung on our kennels so bare,we hope every minute that someone will care.
They’ll come to adopt us and give us the call,“Come here, Max and Sparkie — come fetch your new ball!”

But now we sit here and think of the dayswe were treated so fondly — we had cute, baby ways.
Once we were little, then we grew and we grew.Now we’re no longer young and we’re no longer new.

So out the back door we were thrown like the trash.They reacted so quickly — why were they so rash?

We “jump on the children,” “don’t come when they call,”we “bark when they leave us,” “climb over the wall.”

We should have been neutered, we should have been spayed,now we suffer the consequence of the errors THEY made.

If only they’d trained us, if only we knew,we’d have done what they asked us and worshiped them, too.

We were left in the backyard, or worse, let to roam.Now we’re tired and lonely and out of a home.

They dropped us off here and they kissed us goodbye…“Maybe someone else will give you a try.”

So now here we are, all confused and alonein a shelter with others who long for a home.
The kind workers come through with a meal and a pat,with so many to care for, they can’t stay to chat.

They move to the next kennel, giving each of us cheer…we know that they wonder how long we’ll be here.

We lay down to sleep and sweet dreams fill our headsof a home filled with love and our own cozy beds.

Then we wake to see sad eyes, brimming with tears –our friends filled with emptiness, worry, and fear.

If you can’t adopt us and there’s no room at the inn –could you help with the bills and fill our food bin?

We count on your kindness each day of the year –can you give more than hope to everyone here?

Please make a donation to pay for the heat…and help get us something special to eat.

The shelter that cares for us wants us to live,and more of us will, if more people will give.
– Author Unknown

And take a minute or two to share this with friends and family, spread the word, spread the message. Every little bit of help counts! Share the love every day but most especially now! This is from Merry. I received this from one of my graphic groups and I think it's something I need to pass on. It's so true. It's sad, but if we don't want to adopt we can help donate, time, food, money, etc. to our area shelters! Merry


jessisue14@aol.com
merry1621@aol.com,
Merrytagalong@aol.com,

merry1621@gmail.com

"Get your facts right. Then you can distort them as you please."Mark Twain (Valerie)Serenity is not freedom from the storm, but freedom amid the storm. ~Anonymous~

DIDDLY'S CHRISTMAS ANGEL by Mark Cridor

Snider had passed away a few months ago after fifteen years ofgiving and receiving love within this family. Little Jack, the family's fourth grader, was still having troublecoping with the loss of the dog that had been his companion and partnerall of his life. He had never spent a night that he could remember thathe couldn't touch or feel Snider's warmth under the covers every night.This was not going to be a merry Christmas at all and Jack's parentsknew it. Being in the fourth grade was hard but Jack seemed to not hearanything even if the teacher spoke directly to him. She kind of knewwhat Jack was going through so she didn't press him too hard. Like hisparents though, she never believed that the sadness would have so muchcontrol over him for so long. Jack's parents had been to several shelters as well as animalcontrol trying to get him another dog but they did not have the cash topay all the up front costs for all the veterinarian procedures required,especially heart worm costs of three or four hundred dollars. They hada very hard time wondering why people did not give their pets preventivemeds since it was only pocket change every month to do it. It was late and getting dark. The animal control director calledfor Amy to bring the last dog to the back to be put down before theyclosed for the holidays. Amy could hardly breathe thinking about thisyoung dog being killed. She had to do something to buy her more time,but what? Anxiety was overwhelming her. So young, so sweet, such ashort life. Amy had named her Snoop Diddly when she first came in because allshe did was snoop everything and everyone that came in as she rompedaround the greeting area. She had even started to respond to the nameand learned sit, lay down and stay. She was going to pick Diddly up to remove her name collar whenthis big old guy came in. She had seen him before, as he was a regularvisitor to the shelter. Diddly was out the door in a flash as thoughshe knew what was in store for her. Was he her rescue angel? The lights of town were starting to brighten as darkness loweredover the city, as Diddly ran and ran. Christmas was not going to be a fun holiday at Jack's house. Hisparents were in a dither, what with family coming in the morning andall the celebration for the day. As Jack's mom cleared the breakfast table she heard Jack, whowas outside, scream. She and dad rushed to the door just as Jack camethrough holding this young pup. "MOM! DAD! LOOK! She's got a collar on her name must be Diddly.If we can't find her owners can we keep her?" as Diddly licked his faceand hands. "Well of course we can," they said in unison but, we have to tryand find her owners first. Diddly was in the middle of the family all morning but hangingwith Jack mostly. They all were quietly talking how Jack had snappedout of his severe depression so fast since the dog showed up. He evenate a big meal with Diddly in his lap sharing a few bites. Something hehad not done since Snider passed away. An old friend of theirs stopped by. Jack saw him get out of hisbig truck. He came walking up just as the door opened, with Jack andDiddly rushing out to greet him. He was an old fishing buddy of thefamily's and had taken them fishing ever since Jack could remember. "Well, well, well, where did you get this pup?" the friend asked. "She just showed up this morning when I was outside," Jack answered. "She looks just like Diddly who escaped from the animal controlshelter last night when I stopped by there. She ran out the door whenI went in and the worker there seemed so relieved she started crying-- telling me I must have been sent by someone at The Rainbow Bridge,as they were minutes from putting her down. She told me about her.How she had named her and how sweet she was. Guess I was an angel anddidn't even know it. And here she showed up where I know she'll havea loving forever home."

-- Mark Crider
A 2009 Update to the Story: Having known the family for years and being into rescue here Ijust had to write about what a coincidence it was for that to happen. The real part of the story I couldn't divulge then (just in casesomeone from animal control read it) was Amy was crying so hard about it I couldn't handle it so I just grabbed the dog and put her out the door to let her escape, and took the blame. After all, who is going to confront a tough old grouchy pet lover like me? I went looking for Diddly but it was dark. The next day I ran anad in the paper but had no luck. I was really shocked when I stoppedby and there she was. And she is still there happy and healthy as can be.
_______________________________________________Mark says, "I am a pet lover to the core and find myself embedded in thefight for their well being daily. To me, someone who would mistreata pet is a mentally sick individual. Sharing my food, kindness andresources with pets give me inspiration."

The Best Childhood Ever!

When I was a little kid my Dad built me a swing set. (acrobatic equipment)--but made from plumber pipes, heavy duty stuff. (Stores didn't sell them then), this was like a school ground playground equipment. It had swings, a teeter-totter (sp?), bars to hang on from your knees, and parallel bars in three heights. No one else in out little town had such equipment at home. But Daddy, could see I was good at this, (I did take gymnastics soon as I was old enough to get into it) and he made me this.) It was quality. I took it for granted at the time, but when I remember it now, it really is a wonderful memory to know how loved we were. Every kid should be that lucky, but they aren't. I don't think it was built yet when my sister was my age. Bev was always off somewhere with mostly boys, fighting and paying roughly. I was a "sissy" she said. Also that I didn't have fun, but that's not true. I had everything a girl (or kid) could dream of. But she was a true tomboy, and she wanted to go play with boys, and eat worms on a dare, and forever coming home dirty and with her dresses torn, (girls wore dresses when she was little!) No sissy stuff for her. As for me, I loved my yard, and next to being at the lake cabin, it was my favorite place to be. Every year my friends & I put on a "carnival" (acrobatic) show. We'd charge money, and half that little town came to watch us. The proceeds were for other kids and adults and other kids came to watch us...We had a club, The Helpful Club." We also had games for kids to pay to play and prizes we gave them. (LITTLE THINGS) The money made from our "shows" we'd buy something for someone who didn't have much. For instance, that wasn't good farm country so my farm friends were poor. I remember going and picking out the outfit one year we gave to my lower income friend, Sally! It was a really big deal to me, but I was the one who got the "gift." I had the gift of giving to less fortunates." Some years it would go to an organized charity, too.

Anyway, every one played in my yard, partly because they liked me, but also because of the equipment, I am sure. (I also had a gunny sack swing, do you know what they are like?) And a hammock, and a tire swing! It was magnificent. Almost as many boys played in my yard as girls, even. The fact that my Mom made the best cookies in town for everyone and anyone didn't hurt, either! Mom never minded the noise or hassle of all of us kids playing. Kids were in and out of the house using the rest room, Mom never seemed to care, she said at least she knew we were home and we were playing safely!) My Mom was great with kids. I don't think I ever encouraged my son Tim to have "half the town over, LO." I would have felt responsible and maybe Mom did, but she never acted like it did anything but please her to see me having fun. Every kid should have a childhood like mine. Both of my parents, gave so much of themselves for me. Summers were at the Lake House, and I did know even then how very lucky I was, and although I didn't fully appreciate it, I did know I was fortunate. So, when we went back a few years ago and the playground equipment was gone, it broke my heart. Also, some of the GIANT trees were gone-probably died. Broke my heart. How many children have those kind of wonderful memories?

Feel free to share your childhood memories with me; I'd love to hear about them!

Hugs to all!
Merry

I Got Hit by a Car!!

Hi my friends!

I am so far behind on my email.. This is not like me. But I've been Christmas shopping and Christmas wrapping (also, Merry shopping, LOL) and really busy, with my housework, too. You know, I am rigid. Every day has a job and that does not change unless I am too sick to move. Also, I am dead tired.

Yesterday, I went to the pharmacy, this one is in a grocery store. It's an RX my insurance doesn't pay for & cheaper than my regular pharmacy (Walgreen's). So, I got to this other pharmacy because since it's a cash pay, their price is a lot cheaper on this medication.

Well, it was about 10 AM. I was walking from my car to the store. And yes, I do look for tail lights and people backing up! But some drivers don't look for people!

I was in back of a lady in a big SUV The car came at me, slowly (thank God or I"d be in really bad shape) and I hollered, "HEY!! WATCH OUT!" You ARE RUNNING OVER ME!" It threw me off balance and just luckily I went to the side of it. But if she had been backing out faster, she's have run right over me! It was scary!

The lady says, "Are you okay? I am so sorry." I wasn't too nice, and I am almost always nice. I was MAD. (At first, later I got scared!) I went in to get my prescription. Well, these other nice people came up to me and said they saw it all and they were ready to knock hard on her hood or windshield. They were very nice to me. They said, she said there was a "blind spot". Believe it or not I thought, I don't care if it's my car, well, I care but it wouldn't have KILLED me. But these witnesses told me that if I hadn't shouted, she WOULD have kept coming! And I WOULD have been run over.

Oh yeah, The woman who hit me said to me, Well, you're so little I couldn't even see you. And I had a "blind spot." CRAP. But then I wasn't mad, I was SCARED. That's all it would've taken. All I have to say it's a good thing I have a big mouth and shouted when I did, because I think I'd at least be in the hospital if not DEAD.

Okay, this letter is going to all of my friends and family. I love you all. I am sorry I am behind on Email. You know that is NOT like me. Know that I will be catching up on my Emails to all of you I owe mail to ASAP!

Love,
Merry

NEW ADDITION TO THE FAMILY * From my sister

I just got this Email from my siter in Arizona. It's a gem. I thought, I have to put this in my blog! So, enjoy! I am not going to change her punctuation. You that know me, know I write in sentences with capitalization, etc. Oh well, this is too good a story not to pass on!

NEW ADDITION TO THE FAMILY
we have a new addition to our family. this past saturday we went to costco and got a few things and when we came out we saw this little black and white shih tzu running around the parking lot and the street. definately looked lost. so we looked around and no one seemed to have lost this little dog. so we scooped her up and took her to the groomer asap. anyway she was so matted and neglected and her collar was on so tight that it was choking her. so cliff cut it off with his knife. the groomers said she had probably been on the streets for a long time, becuase she was totally matted and neglected. from her feet to her ears. one solid mat. she had to get shaved. she is the same size as muffin is. the groomer estimated her age at about 2. she has had puppies. anyway, we made a few phone calls and looked for signs of a lost dog and the news paper, but no luck. she is a sweet lovable and kind. doesnt seem to have any bad habits, doesnt bark or chew stuff. she is house traained too. because all her fur is shaved off, we got a sweater on her because she was so cold. anyway, she has an appt to get spayed on dec. 1st. down at the dog pound here in apache junction. our county has a contract with a company called MASH (mobile animal surgical hospital.) i called a couple of vet clinics and they wanted 350 dollars or more for spaying. so when i called the dog pound i found out about the low cost program. so she will get spayed and checked over and all for 65 dollars. then the dog shots are5 dollars each and so probably another 20 bucks. she doesnt have to go back for a check up because they super glue her incision back together and send her home with some doggie pain pills. she and muffin have already gotten to be friends. muffin has lived with other dogs, waits, tiny, cassie and other dogs we have baby sat for. so it wasnt exactly big deal for either dog. so anyway, so far, so good. it does seem like we were in the right spot at the right time, we got a sister for muffin and a good little girl. because the groomer said she appeared to have been on the streets for a long time, we named her tramp. suits her . anyway that is our christmas present for each other, a new little dog..

FOR THE LOVE OF SUGARby Lauri Weinfeld When my dad, a bachelor, was admitted to a Florida Hospice Carefacility for his final seven days, his little side kick, a rescued ShiTzu, Sugar, was missing him a lot! Her best friend was not able to throw her toy, or talk to heranymore. So Sugar spent a lot of time with dad, sitting on his bed atthat Hospice facility. We kept her leash on, since it was a policyat that facility. And we moved dad's hand up and down Sugar's back,as much to comfort Sugar as to bring subliminal comfort to dad. One afternoon, near the end, Sugar got bored and decided to hop offthe bed. Dad was very sedated, very sick, and was no longer responding toanything, nor able to move any muscles. It had been that way for days.But when Sugar got up to jump off the bed, dad's lifeless hand suddenlymoved! He was grasping her leash! Eventually, while we were just down the road getting a bite to eat,we got the call. Dad had passed. We promptly returned to his bedside.As had been the case all week, I was holding Sugar in my elbow, just likeDad always did. Upon entering the room, I immediately knew that Dad wasgone. There was an indescribable yet conspicuous change in how he looked. Sugar also realized, in an instant, that Dad had died. Sugarpanicked! She scrambled and clawed at my chest, trying to leap overmy shoulder to run for the door we had just come through. I quicklyremoved Sugar from the room, and we sat on the veranda and gatheredourselves, together. In that week, Sugar and I had bonded. When I flew home toOhio, Sugar came along, to join our entourage of pets. At first shewas insecure, grumpy, aloof. She was used to being the only dog inthe house. This business of sharing a master was NOT her idea of howto live. When the other dogs tried to play with her, she would back away,then try, then quit, not sure of what it was TO play with another dog.(We have another Shi Tsu and a Standard Poodle.) Sugar hoarded food, got possessive of me -- growling at otherswho approached when she's near me -- and refused to leave my side. It's been over a year now, and Sugar loves her new life. She is theimp that instigates dog play, the one who purposely sleeps pressed againstour other Shi Tzu, who loves all of our family members equally, and who,no doubt, remembers her loving former owner, but wastes no time grieving,as there are chew toys to chase, treats to beg for, and kisses to give! Sugar is her own person in our new family. She's found her niche,as our clown, our cuddler, our little fog horn (what a guard dog!)She still follows me everywhere, but that's okay. She is my link to a very important past, and I am her link to asafe and fun future. -- Lauri Weinfeld

The Power of Second Chances

THE POWER OF SECOND CHANCES

by Teri Goggin-Roberts

Theodore Johnson, or "Mr. J" was my fifth grade teacher.

He was a tall, slender man with a reputation for fun that made students pray to be assigned to his class. Mr. J was significant in my life for many reasons. As an educator, he brought mundane subjects to life with humor and passion. As a person, he taught me the blessing of an unexpected second chance.

One Monday morning, the schoolyard buzzed with rumors about a fire in the school over the weekend. When the bell rang I raced inside, excited by the acrid scent of burnt wood that confirmed the rumors. Homeroom hummed with conversation. Mr. J quieted the class and explained that "Home Economics" would be cancelled due to a fire. He also warned us not to go near the room because it could be dangerous. At morning recess, my friend Kim and I cooked up a plan to check out the damage. A first hand observation would make us heroes at lunch. Since Kim was in a different class, we decided to synchronize a time to go to the bathroom and divert to the "Home Ec" room instead. As the appointed time approached, I ignored a growing sense of dread. I didn't want to face the consequences at home if I got caught but I also couldn't "chicken out" and face Kim after school. When the clock ticked into position, I raised my hand and got permission to "go to the lavatory." Kim was already waiting in the hall.

Kim and I safely reached the home economics room. We stood on tiptoes peering through the door window trying in vain to see what was forbidden. A firm grip on our shoulders stopped my heart cold. "Where do you belong? Certainly not here!" I whirled around to find a teacher staring angrily at us. I'd seen angry teachers before, but they were always glaring at someone else, not me. In those frozen seconds millions of thoughts flashed through my mind. My father would kill me for defying a teacher. Worse than that, my mom might be so mad she might not stop him. Utter terror froze my tongue but eventually I stuttered, "I belong in Mr. J's class." My spirits sank even lower when I realized my lie to Mr. J would soon be exposed. The arresting teacher led Kim and I back to our classrooms and knocked on the doors.

I stood in the hall as my captor spoke with Mr. Johnson who rubbed his chin and arched his eyebrows as he listened. I wanted to melt into the floor. There was nowhere to hide from Mr. Johnson's angry eyes when they darted toward me during parts of the story. I lived with an alcoholic father so anger meant pain and I was already nauseous from the pain in my head. The teacher swished past, leaving my destiny in the hands of Mr. Johnson -- who now hated me. I blinked hard, fighting back tears of self-loathing. Like home, I desperately tried not to let Mr. J see me cry, instead, I braced myself for a barrage of anger. But Mr. Johnson had a different lesson to teach. Slowly, he knelt down on one knee and hunched his lanky body in an attempt to look me in the eye. When I glanced up from my shoes, I was met with a look of concern rather than anger. He spoke softly and carefully as he explained why he was disappointed in my decision to go where I may have gotten hurt. I was stunned that he cared more about my safety than the fact that I'd broken a rule. There was no yelling and no berating. As I looked into the eyes of the man who could send me to unimagined consequences at home, I began to cry. The full weight of disappointing Mr. J crushed my ten-year-old shoulders. I wiped my tears and wished I'd been expelled so I wouldn't have to return to a class full of staring eyes and spend the rest of the year hoping Mr. J would like me again. But the lesson was not complete. Mr. J stood up, indicating it was time to return to class. My heart was heavy with regret as we walked. The load lifted instantly with the gentle touch of Mr. J's hand on my shoulder. I glanced up and he smiled. My love for Mr. J blossomed in the moment I discovered that he still liked me even after I'd disappointed him. Slowly, it sunk in that he didn't raise his voice or threaten me. He didn't do anything but let me feel the impact of my actions. It was the first time I felt the exquisite freedom of forgiveness. Mr. J made no public mention of my crime, nor did he tell my parents. The rest of the day he smiled and acted normally. I saw the world from a fresh angle. At 10 years of age, I couldn't pinpoint what was different, I just knew I felt better about myself. I also knew I'd never disappoint Mr. Johnson again.

Looking back, I can clearly see what was different. When I made mistakes at home the recovery from anger took days. But on that day, trust was restored the moment Mr. J smiled. I learned many things that year, but nothing more important than the power of being granted an unexpected second chance.

I really goofed!

I haven't written for a long time in my blog. While cutting and pasting, I thought I had deleted my repeated versions. After I pushed POST, I now can see, that did not happen.

I am very sorry that I have repeated things, I am embarassed and I apologize to all of you.

I need to pay attention when I am blogging personal things especially. I ask for your patience and understanding with this.

Thank you1
Merry

Opportunities!

"Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work."– Thomas A. Edison

Ha, so this is why I have missed opportunities!!! I don't ever wear overalls. EXCEPT I did wear striped bib overalls when I worked (when Tim was in Jr. High) part-time at a restaurant. Navy blue long sleeve shirts underneath. It was a cute outfit and the restaurant theme was really neat (not hokey and dumb). The name of it was "The Iron Horse." The menus were unique. Each different sandwich or meal was named after some railroad thing. The owner, (my boss and he became our friend) took off on this theme and it was ahead of it's time. It was a fairly upscale place. I loved that job! I didn't know one thing about restaurant work, serving, etc. Or when I was a hostess, I wore my own "dressier type" clothes. I loved getting dressed up and looking my best and it was a good excuse to get new dressy clothes! It was fun. (Of course, I was a LOT younger and a lot cuter then! But what I really enjoyed and loved getting up before the sun (yeah, really then I did) and going to work. I saw each morning's sunrise. Only had seen it on rare occasions when we had some neighborhood parties (Let me tell you those were the days, LOL) (but I wouldn't want to do them over again..) That pt job turned into full time for me and we worked 6 days a week. Only closed on Sundays. My work-mate and BF at the time, & I used to go to the Mall on Sunday.But sadly (for us, -lucky for Dave), we'd be too tired to shop much! I know that's hard to believe for those of you who really know me. Unfortunately, the business went belly-up. Prices were too high and a 50 yr. old restaurant was across the street. We didn't stand a chance. Davenport, IA, was part of the Quad Cities, along the Mississippi River and is a gorgeous area. They run together like one town. So it seemed huge, but Davenport itself is/was/ is about 100, 000 alone. (Mason City, where we are now isn't 30,000), and Clear Lake (where we lived for the first three years we lived "up north (as Dave calls it) is about 7,000. I loved, loved loved being in a small town again!

But oh, gosh, was tun while it lasted. I sometimes think that 3+ years were some o f the very best of my adult life! I could have stayed on with the new owners, but I didn't like them, #1, and #2 we had sold are only 3 yr. old house (the only house we ever built from scratch) that fall. So, that summer was exciting (I couldn't wait to move to Clear Lake, IA- brought me closer to the MN border (& I thought that my sister and I would be able to become closer (she lived in Minneapolis suberb). But, alas that did not happen.) Dave's company opened 3 branch offices that year, one in Mason City, (I PUSHED HARD to come here! I thought it would be a great family adventure. LOL Well, it has in a way. The other branches we could have gone to were one in Cedar Rapids (thank GOD we didn't go there. I hate CR. It stinks-literally, they make cereal, and beans and other nasty smelling things there. It's too big for ME, anyway. (Our son Tim, wife Patti, and Jack and Joey live there, though, but back then they hadn't even met....Tim was in Jr. High, maybe Patti was in grade school. (A little humor there folks, laugh, ) Also, we had a chance to move to Tulsa, OK but didn't go there. My parents were still in Iowa then and in declining health.

Then, we moved to Mason City after Tim graduated and was in the Air Force. We have been in this house 26 years, I think. I started college (Jr. college) in Clear Lake, it was North Iowa Area Community College (located on the eastern end of Mason City, IA. I got my first AA there. Then Dave found this house near his work in Mason City and the price was right. So, end of story. I have never liked it all that much, except we did make some good friends and were active in church here, too. I also worked at a "Country Kitchen" here for a few years. It was a LOT faster pace. But I loved that, too. Most of that was part time because I was also going to college then. I worked when ever I could work it into my school schedule. Just because I loved it, not that it was good for my body. My boss there became (REALLY) a millionaire, and bought several CK's all over. Now, the one here is closed. Jay is the first millionaire, I have ever known personally. He worked just as hard as his employees did. Now he has a little more upscale (but not super fancy) place called "Whiskey Creek." It's a lunch and mainly a SUPPER restaurant. I could write a book about him, and about my experiences there but no one would probably want to read it but me, and MAYBE my family. After that I went my last 2 years (mostly on scholarship) at a private Lutheran College, In '94 I went back to school through NIACC again, and took Medical Technology. (College gets HARDER or at least it did for me, as I got older.) (Or I got dumber~that is possible, too. LOL) By the time I finished that, I was starting to have issues with my back, my feet and then my neck. And so I was not able to do the job I trained to do. As it is all over, a BA, BS, or Bachelors in Applied Sciences, AKA Business) was not enough to get the "pleasant psych. or Social Work jobs I wanted though I did land a couple and worked at them for a stime.

I didn't enjoy being a med. tech. I did love going to school though. And wouldn't change a day of the times I had doing that. The last job I did have was a church secretary. I hated it. I was NOT (so I said then) going to spend my days in front of a computer, for one thing.
"Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work."– Thomas A. Edison

Ha, so this is why I have missed opportunities!!! I don't ever wear overalls. EXCEPT I did wear striped bib overalls when I worked (when Tim was in Jr. High) part-time at a restaurant. Navy blue long sleeve shirts underneath. It was a cute outfit and the restaurant theme was really neat (not hokey and dumb). The name of it was "The Iron Horse."
the menus were unique. Each different sandwich or meal was named after some railroad thing. The owner, (my boss and he became our friend) took off on this theme and it was ahead of it's time. It was a fairly upscale place. I loved that job! I didn't know one thing about restaurant work, serving, etc. Or when I was a hostess, I wore my own "dressier type" clothes. I loved getting dressed up and looking my best and it was a good excuse to get new dressy clothes! It was fun. (Of course, I was a LOT younger and a lot cuter then! But what I really enjoyed and loved getting up before the sun (yeah, really then I did) and going to work. I saw each morning's sunrise. Only had seen it on rare occasions when we had some neighborhood parties (Let me tell you those were the days, LOL) (but I wouldn't want to do the party scene again..) That pt job turned into full time for me and we worked 6 days a week. Only closed on Sundays. My work-mate and BF at the time, & I used to go to the Mall on Sunday.But sadly (for us, -lucky for Dave), we'd be too tired to shop much! I know that's hard to believe for those of you who really know me. Unfortunately, the business went belly-up. Prices were too high and a 50 yr. old restaurant was across the street. We didn't stand a chance. Davenport, IA, was part of the Quad Cities, along the Mississippi River and is a gorgeous area. They run together like one town. So it seemed huge, but Davenport itself is/was/ is about 100, 000 alone. (Mason City, where we are now isn't 30,000), and Clear Lake (where we lived for the first three years we lived "up north (as Dave calls it) is about 7,000. loved, loved loved being in a small town again!

But oh, gosh, was tun while it lasted. I sometimes think that 2+ years were some o f the very best of my adult life! I could have stayed on with the new owners, but I didn't like them, #1, and #2 we had sold are only 3 yr. old house (the only house we ever built from scratch) that fall. So, that summer was exciting (I couldn't wait to move to Clear Lake, IA- brought me closer to the MN border (& I thought that my sister and I would be able to become closer (she lived in Minneapolis suberb). But, alas that did not happen.) Dave's company open 3 branch offices that year, one in Mason City, one in Cedar Rapids (thank GOD we didn't go there. I hate CR. It stinks-literally, they make cereal, and beans and other nasty smelling things there. It's too big for ME, anyway. (Our son Tim, wife Patti, and Jack and Joey live there, though, but back then they hadn't even met....Tim was in Jr. High, maybe Patti was in grade school. (A little humor there folks, laugh, ) We moved to Mason City after Tim graduated and was in the service. We have been in this house 26 years, I think. I started college (Jr. college) in Clear Lake, it was North Iowa Area Community College while still in Clear lake. got my first AA there. Then Dave found this house near his work in Mason City and the price was right. So end of story. I have never liked it all that much, except we did make some good friends and were active in church here, too. I also worked at a "Country Kitchen here for a few years. It was a LOT faster pace. But I loved that, too. Some of that was part time because I was also going to school again then. I worked when ever I could work it into my school schedule. Just because I loved it, not that it was good for my body. My boss there became (REALLY) a millionaire, and bought several CK all over. Now, the one here is closed. Jay is the first millionaire, I have ever known personally. He worked just as hard as his employees did. Now he has a little more upscale (but not super fancy) place called "Whiskey Creek." It's a lunch and mainly a SUPPER restaurant. I could write a book about him, and about my experiences there but no one would probably want to read it but me, and my family. After that I went my last 2 years (mostly on scholarship) at a private Lutheran College, less than one hour away. I also took a class or too, from Buena Vista (they use our Jr. College's Campus evenings, but are expensive.) In '94 I went back to school through NIACC again, and took Medical Technology. (College gets HARDER or at least it did for me, as I got older.) By the time I finished that, I was starting to have issues with my back, my feet and then my neck. And so I was not able to do the job I trained to do. As it is all over a BA, BS, or Bachelors in Applied Sciences, AKA Business) was not enough to get the psych jobs I wanted though I did land a couple. I didn't enjoy being a med. tech. I did love going to school though. And wouldn't change a day of the times I had doing that. The last job I did have was a church secretary. I hated it. I was NOT (so I said then) going to spend my days in front of a computer, for one thing. It was also not fun. And your boss is the pastor and the council and that's not a good work/ help situation. Less said about that the better. I had no clue when I started this that I was going to get so LONG. Sooooooooo, I am transferring this to my Blog. I will send it to some of you who may not read my blog or know where it is.

End of it! But Tom Edison was right. The hardest work was (for me at least the work I loved the best. other than being a career college student. I did that job well, too. LOL Laugh! I am kidding, but also that is the truth.

Getting off my soapbox now. Love, and prayers to all of you!
Merry

PS I had jobs before then, office jobs, which I hated with a passion, even though they were easier on my body. I would work to get us out of the red, and QUIT ASAP afterwards. I was not into working until Tim was older,Some people have no choice, but since I did and particularly since we had Tim, I always felt privileged to be able to stay at home until he was older. (Well, that's a laugh on me, I never dreamed I would become addicted to my computer, but I am!) It was also not fun. And your boss is the pastor and the council and that's not a good work/ help situation. Less said about that the better. I had no clue when I started this that I was going to get so LONG. Sooooooooo, I am transferring this to my Blog. I will send it to some of you who may not read my blog or know where it is.

End of it! But Tom Edison was right. The hardest work was (for me at least the work I loved the best. other than being a career college student. I did that job well, too. LOL Laugh! I am kidding, but also that is the truth.

Getting off my "soap-box" now, (finally)!

Love, and prayers to all of you.

Merry
PS I'd love it if you read this on Blogspot if you leave me a comment.
PSS I had jobs before then, office jobs, which I hated with a passion, even though they were easier on my body. I would work to get us out of the red, and QUIT ASAP afterwards. I was not into working until Tim was older,Some people have no choice, but since I did and particularly since we had Tim, I always felt privileged to be able to stay at home until he was older. Today's Mom's don't always have that choice. But I was blessed, though we had periods of struggle, I won't complain, as with most everything in my life, I did it "my way," and I am glad that I could do it. Old age offers us time to refect on our mistakes, but also, with age, comes ACCEPTANCE, and by gosh, finally I think I have that at 65. About time, don't you think?

DECISIONS OF THE HEART

I have always said I would like to volunteer at the local humane society when I retire. Now as retirement draws nearer I'm having second thoughts.Not because I don't think it's worth my time, but because I have fears of becoming one of those hoarders of small fur babies you hear about on television and being divorced within a year!

Seriously though, I recently I visited my local humane society because I love to buy the t-shirts, flags and various items in their gift shop. I know I'm supporting a good cause. I also give money to the AKC through my Visa purchases. It's always hard for me not to look in on the little ones up for adoption because it's so heartbreaking. On a recent visit my heart strings were tugged by a little guy(no name) who had been at the shelter since April 30. The poor babe(age unknown) could have only been 6 months old and had already been there 3 months without a mommy or daddy. He was very tiny, no more that3 or 4 pounds and just the fuzziest little dog with such a big cough.Who on earth could have given this little guy up?

I did want to take him out and love him but felt it would be cruel to give him false hopes that someone had come to take him out of this place. His cough was bad and continuous which made me think that was the reason he had not yet been adopted. All they see is a sick puppy and medical bills to pay in this struggling economy. It's a perpetual problem for our abandoned fur babies. They wind up in the humane society,develop kennel cough because of their confinement with all the others, and aren't able to shake it because their tiny immune systems aren't developed enough to ward off these illnesses and so on and so on -- how sad. My only comfort when I decided to leave empty handed was the fact that a family was inquiring about the little guy just before I left.

The woman had several children with her and while I was making my way to the door the lady pointed to him and said, "That's the one we want."I can only hope he went home with them that day. If only I could have two, three, four little ones I surely would but my husband says "no."
His reasoning is he would be the primary caregiver during the day(he's retired) and he feels the expense would be too great. This little fellow has been on my mind for days but I have to stay away because I would surely bring him home if I held him just once. This happened before when I brought our little Shih Tzu, Harry,into our lives. He is a rescue that stole my heart one day when I went to the humane society just to "look." I wound up bringing him home with me that same day. He was one of the lucky ones though --he only had to endure three weeks without a forever home. I'll never regret that visit. Harry is now and will always be a big part of our family. He's especially fond of my husband. We have to share him with my mother-in-law though since he was actually going to be her new companion after the passing of her husband. But after being with us for a week (while my husband helped his mother prepare for her new addition) my husband decided we should keep Harry and let grandma have visitation rights. That worked out to everyone's satisfaction. Harry has sleepovers at grandma's house a couple nights a week but is always happy to come home to mom and dad.

And so the saga goes. I'm sure I'll go back soon to see if the little guy found his forever home. If not, you may hear from me again in the future to let you know all about him and how my volunteer work at the local humane society is going.

-- Janet Allen

Trip to the Cedar Rapid's Kenyon's

Yesterday we went to see the Cedar Rapids Kenyon's. I think it was one of my best trips ever there. I know I am prejudiced but Jack is very handsome! He is a man on the move. The only time he isn't moving is when he is sleeping or maybe eating, but sometimes he moves then, too. Jack is dynamite. He is talking a lot more, and what he says is very clear, too. I asked him if he knew who I was when we were playing in his back yard, and he said, "Grandma?" I said, "Yes!" And I gave him a kiss, then I said "Grandma who?" He looks at me with those big blue eyes (and long eyelashes and says, "Grandma Merry"!) Then he said it several times after that before we came home. Tim said last week out of the blue almost he would look at this picture of me they have up and say, "Grandma Merry." Tim claims they didn't coach him on it. He just calls Dave Grandpa since he is the only Grandpa.

Joey had a little fever, a little cough and a runny nose. I hope he is okay. Little kids can go from well to really sick so fast. He still has just 2 teeth. He still is bald as an Eagle (or a Kenyon, LOL). But I betcha he will have blond hair, as this "fringe" he has around the back is definitely blond but it's thin and you have to look to see it. He has to wear a hat outside so he doesn't get a sunburned head. We had a cook out. We had a really nice day. Joey is a very content baby. He is a sweet baby, a good baby! I had lots of cuddling times with Joey, and Jack was warming up to me more yesterday than ever before. It was a perfect day. One of those days you savor forever!
Later,
Love,
Merry

My Politics MAY be showing......

You cannot help the poor by destroying the rich. You cannot strengthen the weak by weakening the strong. You cannot bring about prosperity by discouraging thrift. You cannot lift the wage earner up by pulling the wage payer down. You cannot further the brotherhood of man by inciting class hatred. You cannot build character and courage by taking away people's initiative and independence. You cannot help people permanently by doing for them, what they could and should do for themselves.

.....Abraham Lincoln

Thanks to Jane W. for this one.

Fare Thee Well Farrah!

Today was an ordinary day for me until: The middle of my soap opera "The Young and The Restless" they came on with a ticker thing along the bottom of the screen announcing that Farrah Fawcett had died.

If you think of Farrah as a bubble head or a has been, I take issue with that. I believe she showed her talents in the things she did after commercials and also "Charlie's Angels." My favorite was the movie she won a nomination for, "THE BURNING BED.' She proved her talent to be much more than skin deep or another pretty face.

Like most of you, I had pretty much forgotten about her until a few weeks ago she did an astounding Documentary called Farrah's Story on NBC. It showed a very human story of a woman not any different than any of us despite her fame, fortune, and even cancer which eventually took her life. Since that movie aired, I have been searching for information about her. And to be honest, praying that God would take her home soon as it became obvious she had no chance to recover. Today, gave all of us a sense of peace, her suffering is over.

I think it would be very nice if people would pray for Redmond, her & Ryan O'Neil's son who is in jail on a drug charge. Also my heart breaks for Ryan and Farrah's Daddy who is in his 90's. So, now on Angel wings, Farrah, you finally have peace and no more pain.

Farewell, Farrah, all of us who cared about you, do respect you and you will be missed but remembered for your courage and your strong views, and to the end you fought to offering alternative cures for cancer for not only the rich but for all cancer victims. I just learned in reading about you that your birth name was Mary. Since, I knew you went to Parochial School, I wasn't actually surprised.

--Merry

Daddy & his Pedro (SHORT)

I am just sharing this new Pedro story with a few other people also. I hope you like it. Pedro was a Chihuahua.xx

I thought of another funny thing my Dad did with Pedro. My Dad had Emphysema. He was unable to walk more than across the room, without huffing. But he was not on Oxygen, I don't know why. Anyway, Pedro needed to run. My Dad got an old fishing pole out of the shed, and my Mom asked him what in the world was he going to do with that??? He said he was going to take Pedro to the park. He would hook up Pedro's collar or harness to his fishing line and then tell Pedro, "Run, boy, run!!" Pedro ran free as the wind. And wasn't shy, or didn't look back. He was a nervous dog as Chihuahuas can be, but he trusted my Dad 100% of the time. When Daddy wanted him to come back he just started reeling the line in. Many folks in the park saw this and were impressed. My Dad was a guy who was not only book smart, but practically smart. He'd figure out the best and easiest way for things to be done. Almost an inventor at times!
Love,
Merry

A Dog For Daddy- Pedro "Hills"

Hello Friends,
Everyone of us probably has a memory or two regarding our father's, especially now, when we are so close to Father's Day. I grew up with several different dogs throughout the years. But the dog my Dad was closest to, was a Chihuahua he rescued after he had to retire early due to health problems. From the start, this dog was devoted to my Dad and vise versa. Pedro wasn't a favorite dog of many. He was definitely a one "man" dog. He only seemed to tolerate the rest of us and my parents friends and relatives. But I did love him, because he meant so much to my Dad. Anything that Daddy loved, I loved too. That's why this story was so touching to me! Perhaps you have or know of a dog that was extra special to your Dad or another special guy in your life. Enjoy this, I am dedicating it to my Daddy, Russel L. Hills, who resides in Heaven now and has for 25 years. (Still some things you just never forget.)

Happy Father's Day, Daddy!

Credit for this goes to Petwarmers.com, specifically, Susan Dart.

The tiny puppy shivered on the kitchen floor as my mother carefully unwrapped it from her coat. Muddy and wet, it was a pitiful sight, cowering by her feet and trembling with cold and fear. My brother and sister and I looked on in amazement as mother described finding it in a ditch by the supermarket parking lot. Afraid the tiny dog would be run over, she decided to bring it home. We watched as mother carefully bathed the little puppy and helped her to dry it with a soft towel. The transformation was amazing. Underneath the mud and grime was a lovely white fox terrier with a brown spot on her side. My sister said she was like a fairy tale princess, all cleaned up for the ball, and called her Cinderella. Mother felt sure that Cindy had been abandoned, but our dad disagreed. He said he couldn't imagine anyone giving up such a fine dog. "She must be lost," he said. "We have to try to find her family." He asked us to think about how we would feel if one of our pets was lost and nobody tried to contact us. He said we needed to do the right thing. So we placed an ad in the newspaper and posted signs in our neighborhood, describing the lost dog. We waited anxiously to see if anyone would claim her, but fervently hoped that no one would.

Meanwhile, with each passing day, we grew more attached to the pup. When our dad would come into the room and find us playing with her, he would always say firmly but kindly, "Remember, she's not ours and we can't keep her." We would sigh and say, "Yes, we know." I know that Dad was trying to save us from disappointment. The only other puppy our family had owned had died suddenly of distemper and the loss had been traumatic for all of us. He didn't want us to get our hopes up when he felt sure the dog belonged to someone else.

Several weeks passed and still no one claimed the little dog. Then one day Daddy came home from work carrying a paper sack. We stood on our tiptoes to try to see inside as he rattled the bag mysteriously. Then he opened the top and pulled out a shiny new collar and leash. "Cindy is going to need these," he said, "since we're going to keep her!" We threw our arms around him and cried with joy and relief. The puppy was ours at last!

Cindy grew into a wonderful family pet. She was gentle and sweet-natured. She loved everyone, but she was always Daddy's dog. She would wait by the door for him to come home and he played with her every evening after work. He trained her carefully and he taught us how to take care of her and how to be responsible pet owners. We were always a fun-loving family and could never resist teasing each other. So sometimes when we would find Daddy playing with Cindy, we just had to tell him, "Now remember, she's not ours and we can't keep her!" He would just grin and go right back to playing with his dog. This June my dad turns 93 and he still remembers Cindy clearly. If you ask him about her, he will immediately smile and tell you that she was simply the best dog a family could have. He will share a favorite story about her and tell you that we are all better people for having known her. He still loves dogs and although he is no longer able to take care of one of his own, my sister takes her beautiful Collies to visit him often. Fifty years since Cindy first came into our lives, our happy memories of her live on and on. They are the enduring legacy of one little lost dog that we would love and keep her whole life through.

-- Susan Dart

Boofer

BOOFER
Marty's story began with us in 2003. I had just graduated from seminary when I received a call from a Humane Society asking if my rescue, the Recycled Pomeranian and Schipperke Rescue, had room for an older, toothless, midget of a Pom. Of course, I said yes.

I still remember anxiously awaiting his arrival! And then I saw him. He was so pitiful. Marty was about 3 pounds of skin and bones, and basically hairless. I wasn't sure he'd be around long because he was in such poor shape. Marty's owner had died and one of the adult children had taken him in -- sort of. They had been keeping this tiny dog in their backyard with a larger dog.

Poor Marty was not getting any of the food. He could not fend for himself. So began our relationship with this wonderful boy! I took Marty home and began to try to fatten him up.

I also took him to the vet to get him checked out. We started him on thyroid medicine and gave him high quality holistic food and supplements. Within six months, Marty had a glorious coat of hair, and his true personality was beginning to shine. We nicknamed Marty, Boof or the Boofer, because he did not bark -- he boofed. Marty would exert so much energy in boofing that his little front feet would come up off the floor every time he boofed. And Marty was and is a character!

He loves people and thinks that everyone should know who he is and fawn all over him. When I started taking him to Petsmart, he became known to the employees. After they knew him, I would swear he looked around as soon as we entered the doors to Petsmart, looking for his entourage. On one visit to Petsmart to have a photo taken, we had a real problem keeping Marty upright for his photo because he kept rolling over on his back to have his tummy scratched. Everyone who was watching Marty's antics were laughing.

Initially, I had planned on finding an adoptive home for this special boy. But after several potential adopters asked me if Marty could be trained to keep his tongue in his mouth (it hangs out because he does not have any teeth to hold it in) I decided Marty needed to stay with me. Of course, my husband and I were already quiet smitten with him. One of the funniest things about Marty is that he hates the word raspberry. If I ask him if he wants a raspberry, he will wrinkle his nose and try to look fierce and even growl. And then he will come after my nose with his toothless mouth. I call it being slobber knocked. However, this is a game that he will only play with me, his mom. Marty has grown old now with us.

He is a welcoming Pom to all of our fosters. Currently, he is taking care of a seven week old Porkie (Pom-Yorkie mix born to a rescued Pom) while she waits to go to her new adoptive family. Marty is 14-15 years of age now and has numerous health issues. This past summer, he had a health scare and I thought we were going to lose him, but he rallied. Our vet said that he does not know why or how Marty is still alive. I think he is still alive because he knows that he is so loved. Boofer will always have a special place in my heart. I cannot imagine what the last 6 years would have been like without his loving and humorous presence in my life. Many times people are reluctant to adopt an older dog. I can tell you from personal experience with several dogs I have adopted as seniors that I would not go back and change a thing. Yes, you may have them with you are shorter period of time, but the days that you spend with a senior are golden! Please look at the senior dogs that are in shelters or rescue groups and give them a chance. Your life will be greatly enriched! Thank you Marty-Boof for coming into my life. I will always love you! You are my fur angel here on earth. I love you Boofer!

-- Melissa Bitting

(from Petwarmer's.com)