Bear with me...
I'm not being sacrilegious but in light of the fact that our family dog is gone and the more time I spend at home, the more I am aware of his absence, I really believe dogs are given to us by God - I don't mean in a sappy "Precious Moments" way but in that dogs are created to be companions and that there is a fingerprint persay, of God himself in a dog.
Take for instance the dog I am borrowing for the night to keep me company. His name is Billy, he is a mutt with a brown body and a brown and white head and white 'knee-high' socks. He is medium sized, skinny, and short haired. He also has ears which stick straight up or out depending on his mood. Billy is very sweet, enjoys life, loves other dogs, and walks like a slinky. I'm not kidding - his back end is constantly trying to catch up with his front end and he runs in a zigzag manner.
My dog, Duncan (who passed away in April), thought he was a person, or at least equal in abilities and respect as a person. When I would walk him or sit at home with him I could literally talk to him, ask him how he was feeling (he had arthritis) or if he wanted to play or walk or be loved etc. Before you make judgments about my mental stability, liken it to the way we talk to small children, cheery, smiling, in love, and with the realization that they probably don't understand most of what we say. But Duncan seemed to realize I at least needed to just hear my own voice and would sit and look at me intently as I spoke, as if he was listening. You could say his name and his attention was on you until you dismissed him. I loved that and I suppose I took it for granted.
Billy? You say his name and he looks for .32 seconds to see if you have something he wants or is immediately making it worth his while. Then he goes back to being a dog. Conversation is not possible and I wound up looking stupid talking to him about the difficulty of our walk. He didn't show interest or even entertain me by pretending to listen. Billy had a different gift, making someone feel loved and needed and moreover, missed. I had to restrain him when my mom left for work and anytime I moved rooms in the house, he had to come except he can't walk on our wood floors so I had to carry him. Billy made me feel like I needed to take care of him, like he needed me - even while he was sleeping at the foot of my bed because he wouldn't leave me. My brothers are too old to 'need' me in the house when mom's at work, I'm just a fire marshal, referee, and lunch packer. But Billy needed me.
So are dogs divine? Do all dogs go to heaven? I'm finally able to toss those thoughts around without getting choked up.
I do believe God blesses us through our dogs - however different their roles, abilities, and personalities. I don't have a clue about whether they are in heaven but if they aren't, we won't miss them. But that doesn't mean I'm not hoping my sheltie is standing and waiting for me someday, eager to listen and love me.
...and I don't think I'm ready to get another dog unless he can converse.
I'm curious:
Do you have a dog? What does it 'divinely' offer you when you need it? Have you lost a pet?
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Boom-de-Yada
If you haven't heard the song or seen the Discovery Ad please do so: Watch Now
It pretty much sums up life.
Marin County is sunny, warm, dry, always clear, healthy, delicious, and expensive.
My Thoughts and snippets of commentary since Summer Really Started a week and 4 days ago?
* SFO is the cleanest airport
* I am in love with the Golden Gate Bridge
* It seriously will not rain until September
* I have to drink more water here
*I like being lazy for now
* I love being home
* Mom and I have tons of fun
* Good coffee
* Good food
* Good Wine
* I love seals
* Seriously dogs don't belong in baby snugglies
* Chiuahas are horrible
* Parents dating is .... strange
* I look at a mountain from my bedroom
* it's great to be away from everyone
* but it gets lonely sometimes
* everything is more expensive - except organic food
* fires are a major worry
* I check the earth quake map daily
* Oleander is very very poisonous - but beautiful
* plants here are jurassic in size and look like they only get miracle grow - huge and blossoming
* people use more mass transportation
* fifteen year olds are awful a lot of the time
* life is empty without a dog
* cats love you - only if you nap
more serious thoughts later...
It pretty much sums up life.
Marin County is sunny, warm, dry, always clear, healthy, delicious, and expensive.
My Thoughts and snippets of commentary since Summer Really Started a week and 4 days ago?
* SFO is the cleanest airport
* I am in love with the Golden Gate Bridge
* It seriously will not rain until September
* I have to drink more water here
*I like being lazy for now
* I love being home
* Mom and I have tons of fun
* Good coffee
* Good food
* Good Wine
* I love seals
* Seriously dogs don't belong in baby snugglies
* Chiuahas are horrible
* Parents dating is .... strange
* I look at a mountain from my bedroom
* it's great to be away from everyone
* but it gets lonely sometimes
* everything is more expensive - except organic food
* fires are a major worry
* I check the earth quake map daily
* Oleander is very very poisonous - but beautiful
* plants here are jurassic in size and look like they only get miracle grow - huge and blossoming
* people use more mass transportation
* fifteen year olds are awful a lot of the time
* life is empty without a dog
* cats love you - only if you nap
more serious thoughts later...
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
The quiet hole in my life....
For almost week now there has been a quiet hole in my heart.... the shape of a medium sized sheltie with a perfect white neck mane and tummy and a white stripe up his muzzle, a brown sable body and fluffy long tail, and the sound of a high pitched bark are cut out in rough cookie-cutter shapes from my life, and it aches with tenderness.
I knew I loved him from when he came in our front door a tiny little fluff ball that came home from work with dad and stayed for 11 years. His first weekend with us, I snuck him out of his kennel and into my room so we could play at my sleepover and that was it, I was in love with my dog. Duncan was brilliant and I'm not just biased! He required very little training and was smart enough to 'heel' without a leash. The standard dog tricks he seemed to do just to please us but it was always clear he thought himself too good for 'laying down' and 'rolling over' although we did it repeatedly to make him sneeze.
I'm not home yet but I know when I walk through the gate and he's not sitting there barking and waiting for me to notice him, the tears will come back - he was the most excited one to see me every time I came home. Without sounding like a Hallmark card, I need to list or rather describe those things that I miss now and will always miss from the dog that I loved like a member of the family. I never expected it to hurt this bad...
his ears were the softest part of his body and they showed his character more than any other part as well - when he wanted food they perked up, if we said 'w-a-l-k' they stood up straight, if he was 'asking' a question with his head, they would flop over in the middle - picture perfect.
He loved to give me 'kissies' he knew I hated being licked, so he would just tap my face with his nose and nuzzle me.
Recently he's been my companion at sunset walking to the seminary or downtown San Anselmo - so eager to walk and loving every compliment of "what a handsome dog!" (Which he heard all the time)
When you rolled him on his back he would make 'rat face' and his bottom teeth would show - after a few seconds of tummy-rubbing, he would inevitably flip back over and sneeze violently which we found hilarious. He was so eager to please but he loved to be loved on - little grunting and talking noises while you pet him and talked to him - as if he really wanted to communicate.
I loved to towel dry him when it rained - I would wrap a bath towel around him and just rub him all fluffy dry...he loved it too.
I really do sound like a Hallmark card and maybe this isn't a good idea.....I'll come back to it.
I knew I loved him from when he came in our front door a tiny little fluff ball that came home from work with dad and stayed for 11 years. His first weekend with us, I snuck him out of his kennel and into my room so we could play at my sleepover and that was it, I was in love with my dog. Duncan was brilliant and I'm not just biased! He required very little training and was smart enough to 'heel' without a leash. The standard dog tricks he seemed to do just to please us but it was always clear he thought himself too good for 'laying down' and 'rolling over' although we did it repeatedly to make him sneeze.
I'm not home yet but I know when I walk through the gate and he's not sitting there barking and waiting for me to notice him, the tears will come back - he was the most excited one to see me every time I came home. Without sounding like a Hallmark card, I need to list or rather describe those things that I miss now and will always miss from the dog that I loved like a member of the family. I never expected it to hurt this bad...
his ears were the softest part of his body and they showed his character more than any other part as well - when he wanted food they perked up, if we said 'w-a-l-k' they stood up straight, if he was 'asking' a question with his head, they would flop over in the middle - picture perfect.
He loved to give me 'kissies' he knew I hated being licked, so he would just tap my face with his nose and nuzzle me.
Recently he's been my companion at sunset walking to the seminary or downtown San Anselmo - so eager to walk and loving every compliment of "what a handsome dog!" (Which he heard all the time)
When you rolled him on his back he would make 'rat face' and his bottom teeth would show - after a few seconds of tummy-rubbing, he would inevitably flip back over and sneeze violently which we found hilarious. He was so eager to please but he loved to be loved on - little grunting and talking noises while you pet him and talked to him - as if he really wanted to communicate.
I loved to towel dry him when it rained - I would wrap a bath towel around him and just rub him all fluffy dry...he loved it too.
I really do sound like a Hallmark card and maybe this isn't a good idea.....I'll come back to it.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Look before you cross
Ok I know you have the right of way but I have the massive weapon.
I don't want to hit you and wouldn't go fast through a pedestrian cross walk but I might have to 'bump' into you if you're in the way and that wouldn't feel good, I drive a tank.
Rules your mother should have taught you but may not have - so I'll help you out:
1. Look BOTH ways before you cross.
2. If a car is coming either A. wait for it to go by or B. Look for eye contact and a signal with the driver
3. Hold hands with the person - adult - next to you
4. Walk QUICKLY across the street
5. Turn back to wave or in some way, thank the person who let you across.
6. Repeat as necessary across multiple cross walks, especially in an intersection.
Any Questions?
I don't want to hit you and wouldn't go fast through a pedestrian cross walk but I might have to 'bump' into you if you're in the way and that wouldn't feel good, I drive a tank.
Rules your mother should have taught you but may not have - so I'll help you out:
1. Look BOTH ways before you cross.
2. If a car is coming either A. wait for it to go by or B. Look for eye contact and a signal with the driver
3. Hold hands with the person - adult - next to you
4. Walk QUICKLY across the street
5. Turn back to wave or in some way, thank the person who let you across.
6. Repeat as necessary across multiple cross walks, especially in an intersection.
Any Questions?
Monday, March 17, 2008
Numb Feet Under the Desk....
Back at my school desk from spring break - my feet are tingling as they go numb...there's no heat. Funny how ironic 'spring break' is when I'm wearing a sweater and want to be under my covers!
I have to vent somewhere today, I just finished reading Orlando by Virginia Woolf - and someone PLEASE tell me why we still have this book in print? I'm not just whining, I'm not writing it off, I am asking a serious question.
Here is the premise since I don't know a single other person who has read the book....
Orlando is a boy who loves nature, has deep thoughts, and is apparently a servant to the Queen and is therefore obsessed with her hands. Orlando grows up -in a home with 400+ rooms which he walks through every night all the way through his life. He has a romantic fling with a Russian named Sasha during which time London is frozen - so much so that that river becomes the center of social life. Then suddenly amidst a rain storm the river melts and floods everything and his planned escape with Sasha doesn't happen. His heart is broken and for an undetermined amount of time he sulks, in nature, in writing, in admiring other artists from afar. Then he takes off as an ambassador and while away he falls into company with a gypsy. Get this - then he falls asleep and sleeps for 7 days, when he wakes up, he is a WOMAN. Yes he mysteriously underwent a sexchange in the 18th century.
SHE now enjoys being female and spends 50 some odd pages comparing life as a female versus that as a male and then decides to return home to England where no one questions her. She shares in the company of accomplished artists like Pope, Swift, and others - learns to be a hostess etc. She watches the century change - still only barely 30 (how?) and sees a whore who he reveals his masculine side to... weird. Somehow amidst various role-changes where She/He choses when to be male and when to be female, she begins to wear the skirts that women wear when they are pregnant and then suddenly feels compelled to be married. She runs outside and decides she must be nature's wife and trips and falls among roots. Suddenly a man appears and they fall in love and get married within what appears to be 9 days although is described as a few minutes. He sails to Cape Horn and she remains alone...at some point seems to have a child - at which point it is March but then it is October on the next page.
Her manuscript of a poem she has been working on for - 3oo years?! - is published by a dear old friend who she describes as literature itself. Then she begins to talk to her different selves and naming them and pulling in different habits and phrases from other parts of her life into the life she is currently living - and only at the age of 36. She begins to talk of a wild goose and suddenly it becomes clear that the entire novel, with it's random and informal direct words to the reader from the 'biographer' is a commentary on the impossibility of art and achieving greatness.
Or is it?
I finished the book unsure of what I read - all 339 pages of it.
And at 6pm I will go to class to discuss it. Hmmm
Meanwhile my feet are growing numb and I have two papers to write - this doesn't count as academic work. So welcome back to school cold feet and oh Happy St. Patrick's Day.
I have to vent somewhere today, I just finished reading Orlando by Virginia Woolf - and someone PLEASE tell me why we still have this book in print? I'm not just whining, I'm not writing it off, I am asking a serious question.
Here is the premise since I don't know a single other person who has read the book....
Orlando is a boy who loves nature, has deep thoughts, and is apparently a servant to the Queen and is therefore obsessed with her hands. Orlando grows up -in a home with 400+ rooms which he walks through every night all the way through his life. He has a romantic fling with a Russian named Sasha during which time London is frozen - so much so that that river becomes the center of social life. Then suddenly amidst a rain storm the river melts and floods everything and his planned escape with Sasha doesn't happen. His heart is broken and for an undetermined amount of time he sulks, in nature, in writing, in admiring other artists from afar. Then he takes off as an ambassador and while away he falls into company with a gypsy. Get this - then he falls asleep and sleeps for 7 days, when he wakes up, he is a WOMAN. Yes he mysteriously underwent a sexchange in the 18th century.
SHE now enjoys being female and spends 50 some odd pages comparing life as a female versus that as a male and then decides to return home to England where no one questions her. She shares in the company of accomplished artists like Pope, Swift, and others - learns to be a hostess etc. She watches the century change - still only barely 30 (how?) and sees a whore who he reveals his masculine side to... weird. Somehow amidst various role-changes where She/He choses when to be male and when to be female, she begins to wear the skirts that women wear when they are pregnant and then suddenly feels compelled to be married. She runs outside and decides she must be nature's wife and trips and falls among roots. Suddenly a man appears and they fall in love and get married within what appears to be 9 days although is described as a few minutes. He sails to Cape Horn and she remains alone...at some point seems to have a child - at which point it is March but then it is October on the next page.
Her manuscript of a poem she has been working on for - 3oo years?! - is published by a dear old friend who she describes as literature itself. Then she begins to talk to her different selves and naming them and pulling in different habits and phrases from other parts of her life into the life she is currently living - and only at the age of 36. She begins to talk of a wild goose and suddenly it becomes clear that the entire novel, with it's random and informal direct words to the reader from the 'biographer' is a commentary on the impossibility of art and achieving greatness.
Or is it?
I finished the book unsure of what I read - all 339 pages of it.
And at 6pm I will go to class to discuss it. Hmmm
Meanwhile my feet are growing numb and I have two papers to write - this doesn't count as academic work. So welcome back to school cold feet and oh Happy St. Patrick's Day.
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