Back in August I contacted the Greater Houston German Shepherd Dog Rescue and they agreed for Sam to be accepted into their rescue program, as long as we could continue to foster her until her adoption. They have paid for her vetting and care. She has finally undergone her first heartworm treatment and will finish her second and final treatment in two weeks.
It will be a difficult day for me when Sam is finally adopted and no longer living here with us. We've developed a special and unique bond and saying goodbye will not be easy. I have prayed that she will be placed with the perfect family for her and that she will be a blessing to them. I am excited for her to finally reach this place in her journey, but also dreading our goodbye. In the perfect scenario, I would like to still get to see her from time to time. Who knows, maybe I can volunteer to dog sit for her.
Sam's Bio
On another note, I am in the midst of making a life changing decision that would allow me to have a career working with dogs. I can't think of anything I would rather do, but there are so many factors to consider as I continue to explore this avenue. I must reach a decision soon. If I take the plunge, I will be leaving to attend Triple Crown Professional Dog Training Academy in Hutto, Texas on January 9th for a few months.
I have started the application process and am moving forward with my plans to attend. I'm just waiting for God to give me his final seal of approval with additional confirmation, perhaps in the form of a big flashing neon sign that either says, "Go for it. I am behind this and you will succeed" or "Not now, child, maybe one day".
Things have moved quickly and must be finalized so soon. Maybe that is contributing to my stress and uncertainty. One minute things seem to be so clear and the next minute, I don't know if this is His will or mine, and I can't afford to invest this kind of time or money without knowing that HE has my back.
I struggle with what brand of spaghetti sauce to buy at the grocery store. BIG decisions are definitely not my specialty! The sixteensisters are working overtime and obviously can't seem to reach a unanimous decision.
Deep down, this feels so right. I could do so much with the training they offer. I would have so many options besides just obedience and behavior training. I could train dogs for scent detection, search and rescue and even dogs for special needs people.
The only thing that seems to be holding me back is the fear of putting my family in financial strain if my employment goals aren't met in a timely manner. If we don't take chances, how do we know if we will succeed?
Looks like Sam and I have something in common. We both have destinations unknown.
To go or not to go?
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
I Am Sam. Sam I Am.
They call me Sam. It’s short for Samantha. I haven’t had that name for very long but that’s what my foster family decided to name me. I like it and know they’re talking to me when they call me now. I came to live with my foster family on Good Friday (April 21, 2011). That was a rough day for me, but looking back on it now, things worked out much better than I thought they were going to when I woke up to some man (my foster dad) trying to capture me with a rabies pole around my neck. I didn’t know it at the time but my foster mom and dad played a trick on me. The pills they put into those hot dogs I inhaled actually had a dog sedative in them and they made me very sleepy. The hot dogs didn’t fill me up so I started to cross back under the freeway to go look for some more food but I ended up passing out underneath the bridge near my old home.
I used to live at the very busy intersection of Highway 90 & Beltway 8 in east Houston. There was lots of traffic in the area but I had been living there on my own for quite some time. The homeless man who sometimes slept under the bridge near my former home told my foster dad that I had been there since at least January when he first started using my bridge, but that I had never let myself get too close to him or anyone else for that matter. I was terrified of people and if anyone tried to approach me I would take off light a bolt of lightning. I was fast and no one could catch me. I was street smart and very familiar with the four corners of the world I lived in. I even knew that it was safer for me to come out at night to search for my dinner. I slept in the drainage ditch during the day so that no one could see me or bother me. I was even smart enough to walk down to the red light before I crossed the busy road, and even waited for the lights to change. I was a creature of habit and had a daily (well, nightly routine). I lived off the trash that people threw out, or sometimes food that good Samaritans would leave me. No one knows how I ended up there but it was the only life I knew, and I trusted no one.
When my foster mom found out about me after a nice lady posted about me on craigslist, she drove out to see if she could spot me and was hoping that I’d hop up into her truck after she offered me some food. Ha! She was sadly mistaken. When I saw her approaching me I took off running and at one point she was afraid she’d caused me to get hit by a car, but I didn’t. I ran off and hid from her in the brush along one side of the road until she finally gave up and left. Luckily for me she still felt sorry for me even after I dodged her and she left some food and water out for me.
Over the next two weeks she came and left me food and water and made several attempts to try to catch me but I was just too smart for her. Whenever I would see her truck pulling up into my “triangle” that I liked to lounge around in, I would take off to the other side of the bridge and wait for her to get the hint and leave.
One night she came looking for me late at night with some guy and he chased me around with a flash light but I outsmarted him. She actually thought that he could catch me! Then another night she put some food out for me but it smelled really bad because she put something in it to make me sleepy but I smelled it and wouldn’t touch the food. She brought a friend with her and they sat parked under the bridge in her truck for like five hours waiting on me to eat that stinky food. I was beginning to think she was stalking me and just wished she would leave me alone. I did appreciate the food I had learned to count on every evening, but she just wasn’t getting the hint that I didn’t like people and she wasn’t going to get close to me.
Then one night she brought my foster dad out with her to try to catch me, and again, I smelled that stinky food and wouldn’t touch it. They sat for hours in lawn chairs in the back of their truck watching me with binoculars. I laid down in my special spot by the food (they thought I ate it!) and my foster dad managed to get pretty close to me before I heard him but I darted as soon as I saw him. There was no catching me.
My foster mom says she saw something special in me the first time she saw me and her OCD (whatever that is) kicked in and she couldn’t quit thinking about me out there all alone, skinny, living among all those cars and big trucks whizzing past me. Her friends and family thought she was crazy and thought she was going to get mugged by the homeless man or hit by a car if she kept coming out there to feed and try to catch me.
My foster mom called her vet (who is also her cousin) for advice on using sedatives to catch me and he told her he would give her pills instead of the liquid stuff and that’s how she ended up tricking me. I smelled those hot dogs and had no idea there were pills stuffed inside of them. Sigh!
Her cousin was concerned about me biting anyone who tried to catch me so he loaned them a rabies pole, just like dog catchers use, and that’s how my foster dad was able to catch me. I ended up passing out and was in a pretty deep sleep when he snuck up on me, but when I felt him trying to slip the noose of the pole under my snout I woke up, flailing and fighting! It was traumatic for me, and especially for my foster dad. He had to fight with me because I totally panicked and immediately started attacking the pole that he still managed to get over my neck just as I started flailing and we had a pretty good little battle and kicked up quite a bit of dust before I became totally submissive and just froze. My foster mom rushed over with the truck and the kennel that I struggled to keep from being put into. I was barking and biting at the wire cage, but I was only scared. I wasn’t trying to hurt them. I was still pretty groggy and terrified. My foster dad is a police officer and he told my foster mom that the struggle he just had with me was one of the scariest things he had ever experienced and that he would rather fight with a bad person than to struggle with a dog like he just had. I heard him say he had a new respect for dog catchers. Apparently, when I suddenly woke up fighting for my life it scared him pretty bad! He said he almost let go of the pole but he knew I would run out into traffic dragging a pole around my neck so he held on. I didn’t fight for long before I froze, but it was an intense struggle.
I finally got a closer look at the crazy lady who had been stalking me. She was smiling and hugging him and thanking him over and over for catching me. I just laid there in the kennel, still groggy, wondering how I’d been duped and where they were taking me. I was terrified but had no way out. I just knew whatever I was in store for couldn’t be good.
I used to live at the very busy intersection of Highway 90 & Beltway 8 in east Houston. There was lots of traffic in the area but I had been living there on my own for quite some time. The homeless man who sometimes slept under the bridge near my former home told my foster dad that I had been there since at least January when he first started using my bridge, but that I had never let myself get too close to him or anyone else for that matter. I was terrified of people and if anyone tried to approach me I would take off light a bolt of lightning. I was fast and no one could catch me. I was street smart and very familiar with the four corners of the world I lived in. I even knew that it was safer for me to come out at night to search for my dinner. I slept in the drainage ditch during the day so that no one could see me or bother me. I was even smart enough to walk down to the red light before I crossed the busy road, and even waited for the lights to change. I was a creature of habit and had a daily (well, nightly routine). I lived off the trash that people threw out, or sometimes food that good Samaritans would leave me. No one knows how I ended up there but it was the only life I knew, and I trusted no one.
When my foster mom found out about me after a nice lady posted about me on craigslist, she drove out to see if she could spot me and was hoping that I’d hop up into her truck after she offered me some food. Ha! She was sadly mistaken. When I saw her approaching me I took off running and at one point she was afraid she’d caused me to get hit by a car, but I didn’t. I ran off and hid from her in the brush along one side of the road until she finally gave up and left. Luckily for me she still felt sorry for me even after I dodged her and she left some food and water out for me.
Over the next two weeks she came and left me food and water and made several attempts to try to catch me but I was just too smart for her. Whenever I would see her truck pulling up into my “triangle” that I liked to lounge around in, I would take off to the other side of the bridge and wait for her to get the hint and leave.
One night she came looking for me late at night with some guy and he chased me around with a flash light but I outsmarted him. She actually thought that he could catch me! Then another night she put some food out for me but it smelled really bad because she put something in it to make me sleepy but I smelled it and wouldn’t touch the food. She brought a friend with her and they sat parked under the bridge in her truck for like five hours waiting on me to eat that stinky food. I was beginning to think she was stalking me and just wished she would leave me alone. I did appreciate the food I had learned to count on every evening, but she just wasn’t getting the hint that I didn’t like people and she wasn’t going to get close to me.
Then one night she brought my foster dad out with her to try to catch me, and again, I smelled that stinky food and wouldn’t touch it. They sat for hours in lawn chairs in the back of their truck watching me with binoculars. I laid down in my special spot by the food (they thought I ate it!) and my foster dad managed to get pretty close to me before I heard him but I darted as soon as I saw him. There was no catching me.
My foster mom says she saw something special in me the first time she saw me and her OCD (whatever that is) kicked in and she couldn’t quit thinking about me out there all alone, skinny, living among all those cars and big trucks whizzing past me. Her friends and family thought she was crazy and thought she was going to get mugged by the homeless man or hit by a car if she kept coming out there to feed and try to catch me.
My foster mom called her vet (who is also her cousin) for advice on using sedatives to catch me and he told her he would give her pills instead of the liquid stuff and that’s how she ended up tricking me. I smelled those hot dogs and had no idea there were pills stuffed inside of them. Sigh!
Her cousin was concerned about me biting anyone who tried to catch me so he loaned them a rabies pole, just like dog catchers use, and that’s how my foster dad was able to catch me. I ended up passing out and was in a pretty deep sleep when he snuck up on me, but when I felt him trying to slip the noose of the pole under my snout I woke up, flailing and fighting! It was traumatic for me, and especially for my foster dad. He had to fight with me because I totally panicked and immediately started attacking the pole that he still managed to get over my neck just as I started flailing and we had a pretty good little battle and kicked up quite a bit of dust before I became totally submissive and just froze. My foster mom rushed over with the truck and the kennel that I struggled to keep from being put into. I was barking and biting at the wire cage, but I was only scared. I wasn’t trying to hurt them. I was still pretty groggy and terrified. My foster dad is a police officer and he told my foster mom that the struggle he just had with me was one of the scariest things he had ever experienced and that he would rather fight with a bad person than to struggle with a dog like he just had. I heard him say he had a new respect for dog catchers. Apparently, when I suddenly woke up fighting for my life it scared him pretty bad! He said he almost let go of the pole but he knew I would run out into traffic dragging a pole around my neck so he held on. I didn’t fight for long before I froze, but it was an intense struggle.
I finally got a closer look at the crazy lady who had been stalking me. She was smiling and hugging him and thanking him over and over for catching me. I just laid there in the kennel, still groggy, wondering how I’d been duped and where they were taking me. I was terrified but had no way out. I just knew whatever I was in store for couldn’t be good.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
It Was Always About Caylee, Casey! You Were/Are Nothing Without Her!
Like most of the nation, I was in total shock on July 5, 2011 when the Casey Anthony verdict was read. I’m still trying to come to terms with the mind boggling not guilty verdict and injustice for Caylee. I still struggle with how these 12 (plus 5 alternate) Pinellas County idiots ever came to such a verdict. I can’t even bring myself to respect their decision “because the American Justice system is the best in the world”. I’m totally not feeling it.
I have closely followed this case since day 31 when the media went crazy with the story of a Florida mom who didn’t report her child missing for 31 days. Thanks to the Sunshine Laws in Florida we were privy to countless document dumps from the investigation including photos, lab reports, interviews, jail visits, etc. By the way, I think I love the Sunshine Laws!
I watched pre-trial hearings, jury selection and the trial closely. I even downloaded an app for my iphone that allowed me to watch the trial when in transit. Yes, I was slightly obsessed with the circus it had become and had waited three long years to see justice for Caylee.
I was at HEB when my friend texted me that there was a verdict, moments before my text alert from the Orlando Sentinel sounded. I literally scurried to the check-out with my cart full of groceries so that I could get home for the moment I, and so many others had been waiting for.
I have to say that when friends who weren’t following the case as closely as I was would spout off that she was going to walk, it infuriated me. I was never worried that she would walk. It was inconceivable to me knowing the evidence against her. That was a preposterous outcome. In my mind, there was no possible way that 12 people would all concede that she was not guilty. I had come to terms with the fact that she might not get murder one and even though I personally felt it was premeditated I could concede that there might be reasonable doubt among a few of the jurors and was expecting at the very least a charge of felony murder. I had learned that they could have a broken vote, i.e. 6 for premeditated and 6 for child abuse resulting in the death of Caylee to get the felony murder and was hoping for first degree murder but almost expecting the 2nd degree. I was even prepared for a hung jury, but never, ever did I consider an acquittal on the murder charges. Never!
My husband came home to watch the verdict with me and we had the kids listening on speaker phone because they were away camping and unable to watch it on TV. I felt like I had been kicked in the gut when each not guilty was read. The jury hadn’t even charged her with child abuse. It was literally unbelievable. I was unable to speak and in total shock for quite some time afterward. I couldn't even acknowledge my kids questions and shock as to what had just happened and had to let my husband address them. I was numb and in total disbelief.
After two weeks of trying to digest the end result and Casey walking out of jail this past Sunday, I have finally accepted that there’s nothing we can do in terms of overturning the verdict. It is what it is. I still can’t fathom 12 people reaching this conclusion, much less in 10 hours. Plus it has become obvious from a few juror interviews that they really didn’t understand what the state was required to prove and that motive was not required, however the state did provide one. Plus, they claim there was no cause of death given. I guess it was lost on them that after Caylee’s body had sat out in the swamp for 6 months, her bones being scattered about by animals that the M.E. couldn’t find a definitive COD, but the duct tape on her mandible and the fact that the circumstances surrounding her death all pointed to murder Dr. G was only able to rule it a “homicide by undetermined means”. Nor did her statement that 100% of accidental deaths are reported to authorities or that she has never seen an accidental death be made to look like a homicide seem to register in any of their hollow heads!
The fact that they never asked for any evidence during deliberations or for clarification of the jury instructions made it even harder to swallow. Plus there seemed to be some confusion as to reasonable doubt among the 12 pinheads. I honestly think this group needed a video of Casey murdering precious Caylee in order to have come back with a guilty verdict. The prosecution provided ample evidence of her involvement and being the last person to have seen Caylee alive, and I find the excuses being thrown out by a few jurors about why they came to their decision to be appalling. No wonder they’re in hiding and the local citizens and businesses are shunning them. It’s scary to think 12 people can lack such common sense and that no one was bold enough to stand up against the others or to even ask for clarification on the points of jury instructions they were confused about. UGH!!!!
If these jurors felt there was no real evidence in this case then Scott Peterson must be reeling over in San Quentin because all they really had on him was one of Laci’s hair in a pair of his pliers and he’s sitting on death row! But the jurors in his case used their common sense and put the pieces of the puzzle together. I watched that trial, too, and knew he was guilty but in reality they had so much more evidence pointing at Casey than they ever had on Scott. When will people learn that most cases are circumstantial? I’m so sick of hearing that there was no proof! How often do we have murders caught on tape?
I have turned off my Nancy Grace, In Session and Tru TV’s coverage of where’s Waldo, I mean Casey. I don’t care where she's hiding or what she has to say. I don’t want to look at her smirking horse face anymore. She totally thrives on the media attention and I refuse to be part of the demand for anymore Casey news. I refuse to help put money in her pocket so she can profit from killing her daughter and will boycott any organization or product that offers to pay her for her story. Is anyone stupid enough to think that she would tell the truth now, anyway? Truth isn’t in her vocabulary!
I have signed the petition for Caylee’s Law and will now move on to follow the next sad case that catches my eye. I will never forget precious little Caylee and what an impact her short life and senseless murder had on so many people. I will always look back and remember how the Pinellas 12 failed to see the writing on the wall and allowed a child murderer to walk free among us. Caylee's egg donor will eventually get what she has coming to her just like OJ finally got his. It’s just unfortunate that it wasn’t in a court of law as charged. Mark my words, somewhere down the road someone else will fall victim to Casey Anthony. In the end, Caylee will get justice.
RIP Caylee Marie.
I have closely followed this case since day 31 when the media went crazy with the story of a Florida mom who didn’t report her child missing for 31 days. Thanks to the Sunshine Laws in Florida we were privy to countless document dumps from the investigation including photos, lab reports, interviews, jail visits, etc. By the way, I think I love the Sunshine Laws!
I watched pre-trial hearings, jury selection and the trial closely. I even downloaded an app for my iphone that allowed me to watch the trial when in transit. Yes, I was slightly obsessed with the circus it had become and had waited three long years to see justice for Caylee.
I was at HEB when my friend texted me that there was a verdict, moments before my text alert from the Orlando Sentinel sounded. I literally scurried to the check-out with my cart full of groceries so that I could get home for the moment I, and so many others had been waiting for.
I have to say that when friends who weren’t following the case as closely as I was would spout off that she was going to walk, it infuriated me. I was never worried that she would walk. It was inconceivable to me knowing the evidence against her. That was a preposterous outcome. In my mind, there was no possible way that 12 people would all concede that she was not guilty. I had come to terms with the fact that she might not get murder one and even though I personally felt it was premeditated I could concede that there might be reasonable doubt among a few of the jurors and was expecting at the very least a charge of felony murder. I had learned that they could have a broken vote, i.e. 6 for premeditated and 6 for child abuse resulting in the death of Caylee to get the felony murder and was hoping for first degree murder but almost expecting the 2nd degree. I was even prepared for a hung jury, but never, ever did I consider an acquittal on the murder charges. Never!
My husband came home to watch the verdict with me and we had the kids listening on speaker phone because they were away camping and unable to watch it on TV. I felt like I had been kicked in the gut when each not guilty was read. The jury hadn’t even charged her with child abuse. It was literally unbelievable. I was unable to speak and in total shock for quite some time afterward. I couldn't even acknowledge my kids questions and shock as to what had just happened and had to let my husband address them. I was numb and in total disbelief.
After two weeks of trying to digest the end result and Casey walking out of jail this past Sunday, I have finally accepted that there’s nothing we can do in terms of overturning the verdict. It is what it is. I still can’t fathom 12 people reaching this conclusion, much less in 10 hours. Plus it has become obvious from a few juror interviews that they really didn’t understand what the state was required to prove and that motive was not required, however the state did provide one. Plus, they claim there was no cause of death given. I guess it was lost on them that after Caylee’s body had sat out in the swamp for 6 months, her bones being scattered about by animals that the M.E. couldn’t find a definitive COD, but the duct tape on her mandible and the fact that the circumstances surrounding her death all pointed to murder Dr. G was only able to rule it a “homicide by undetermined means”. Nor did her statement that 100% of accidental deaths are reported to authorities or that she has never seen an accidental death be made to look like a homicide seem to register in any of their hollow heads!
The fact that they never asked for any evidence during deliberations or for clarification of the jury instructions made it even harder to swallow. Plus there seemed to be some confusion as to reasonable doubt among the 12 pinheads. I honestly think this group needed a video of Casey murdering precious Caylee in order to have come back with a guilty verdict. The prosecution provided ample evidence of her involvement and being the last person to have seen Caylee alive, and I find the excuses being thrown out by a few jurors about why they came to their decision to be appalling. No wonder they’re in hiding and the local citizens and businesses are shunning them. It’s scary to think 12 people can lack such common sense and that no one was bold enough to stand up against the others or to even ask for clarification on the points of jury instructions they were confused about. UGH!!!!
If these jurors felt there was no real evidence in this case then Scott Peterson must be reeling over in San Quentin because all they really had on him was one of Laci’s hair in a pair of his pliers and he’s sitting on death row! But the jurors in his case used their common sense and put the pieces of the puzzle together. I watched that trial, too, and knew he was guilty but in reality they had so much more evidence pointing at Casey than they ever had on Scott. When will people learn that most cases are circumstantial? I’m so sick of hearing that there was no proof! How often do we have murders caught on tape?
I have turned off my Nancy Grace, In Session and Tru TV’s coverage of where’s Waldo, I mean Casey. I don’t care where she's hiding or what she has to say. I don’t want to look at her smirking horse face anymore. She totally thrives on the media attention and I refuse to be part of the demand for anymore Casey news. I refuse to help put money in her pocket so she can profit from killing her daughter and will boycott any organization or product that offers to pay her for her story. Is anyone stupid enough to think that she would tell the truth now, anyway? Truth isn’t in her vocabulary!
I have signed the petition for Caylee’s Law and will now move on to follow the next sad case that catches my eye. I will never forget precious little Caylee and what an impact her short life and senseless murder had on so many people. I will always look back and remember how the Pinellas 12 failed to see the writing on the wall and allowed a child murderer to walk free among us. Caylee's egg donor will eventually get what she has coming to her just like OJ finally got his. It’s just unfortunate that it wasn’t in a court of law as charged. Mark my words, somewhere down the road someone else will fall victim to Casey Anthony. In the end, Caylee will get justice.
RIP Caylee Marie.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Woof, Woof!
I am a sucker for dogs. “Until one has loved an animal, a part of one's soul remains unawakened” is one my favorite quotes. I can be stopped at a traffic light and see a dog hanging out of a car window or riding in the back soaking up the fresh air and I can’t take my eyes off of it. It makes me smile. I’m more of a big dog fan, but little dogs are cool, too, as long as they’re not yipping at my heels. We often hear about cat ladies on the news, you know, an old lady living in squalor with 76 cats overrunning her home, (or often times her trailer!) with cat feces in every spot the camera shows us. The camera also always shows the police having to hold the poor little lady back as the SPCA carts her precious cats off in cages. It’s actually pretty sad.
I always joke that I’ll never be the cat lady but I could quite possibly end up being the dog lady, minus the feces all over the house. If I’m ever lucky enough to acquire some land I could very possibly end up taking in every stray dog I came across and being accused of dog hoarding.
There’s something to be said about coming home to someone greeting you with a tail wagging at full speed, regardless of how you look or feel. No matter what kind of day you’ve had, or what kind of mood you may be in, the dog is always there, ever so faithfully awaiting your arrival, thrilled beyond measure when you walk through that door. Well, that’s a typical dog greeting one can expect unless said dog or dogs have misbehaved while their master was away. i.e. rummaged through the trash, chewed up a newspaper or left a little (or often big) surprise that they instinctively know you will not be happy to see. So, as long as your dog hasn’t misbehaved while you were away, your loyal companion will be eagerly waiting for you as you walk through the door with the warmest of welcome, without fail. I can’t think of anyone else in my life that is ever as happy to see me as my dogs are. Hence, another one of my favorite quotes is “My goal is to someday be the person my dog thinks I am.”
A few years ago I became involved as a volunteer for a local dog rescue group. I worked as their foster coordinator, which basically involved making calls and emailing our foster families to check on the progress of our foster dogs. I also attended their pet adoptions and other events to help with various things such as setting up, walking the dogs or talking to potential adopters. Due to some issues within the group, I no longer do that and haven’t been actively involved with a rescue group for about a year now and am truly missing it. It was something I really enjoyed doing and I also met some great people in the process. Hopefully, I’ll find the time to become actively involved with another rescue group again in the near future.
In the meantime, I do what I can, when I can on my own. I keep a “rescue kit” under the back seat in my truck. It’s a plastic container that contains disposable bowls, dog food, cat food, dog snacks, water and a leash & collar. If I spot a stray I will almost always stop and feed it, and sometimes I’ll attempt to coax it to me with the intention of taking it home, temporarily, until I can network and find it a home. Most of the time, the strays are skittish and won’t let me approach and will run off. In that case, I always leave some food.
After our dog Abby passed away we decided we wanted to eventually foster dogs instead of adopting a second dog. Lady was our first foster dog and she left her paw prints embedded deeply into my heart. When I met Lady, we had only discussed fostering but still had not decided it was time. I had only gone to select a dog from the shelter to pick up for a weekend visit. Sometimes rescue groups will ask for volunteers to take a dog home for a few days just to get them out of the kennel environment for a while where they can receive some outside interaction and socialization. They figure that a few days spent with someone are better than nothing, even though it’s only temporary and they have to return to the shelter. So I went to the shelter to pick out a dog to visit with us for a few days.
I probably had about 15 dogs to choose from. I walked from kennel to kennel reading each dog’s bio, sticking my hand through the wire cages to show them some affection. Some were receptive, some not so much. Some barked non-stop and some just stared at me or cowered. On first glance there was nothing special about Lady. She wasn’t the prettiest of dogs and nothing about her seemed to stand out. I have a hard time even making minor decisions so this was no easy task. I walked around and around and around but there was just something about Lady that kept drawing me back over to her. I’d have to say it was the way her big brown eyes followed me around the room. She really caught my attention. Once I learned that she had been with the rescue group for about a year and had been kenneled most of that time due to a shortage of foster homes, it made my decision easier. Lady was getting out of jail for a few days.
She was used to leashes and car rides from being transported to and from the vet and to adoptions and rode in my truck seat like a little Lady, sitting up staring out the window. She was such a sweetheart and after only spending a few days with her we had learned about her personality and quirks. Sadly, we didn’t feel that we were ready to take on fostering just yet so it was always understood that she would be returning to the shelter, which was actually a “haven” or home for dogs, but they were still kenneled most of the time. I was a little sad, but okay until I got her back to the haven and met the volunteer who was going to take her from me and put her into her kennel. Lady looked at me with those big brown eyes and watched every move I made while I was in the house. I sadly said my goodbyes then used the restroom and as I walked to the door to leave I glanced over and she was sitting wide-eyed and upright staring intently at me as if to say, “Where are you going? You’re leaving me here? No, wait. You can’t do that. We’re buddies now. Please take me back to the place with the other dogs and the rooms that I can roam freely in. I want to play ball in the back yard again. You’re not really leaving me here, right?” I’m really not exaggerating about her eyes. It was like she was communicating with me and begging me not to go. She seemed confident that I was going to open the kennel and we’d be leaving together and I felt horrible. I had no idea how bad it would make me feel. It was an hour’s drive back home and I sobbed the entire way.
When I got home I couldn’t quit crying and to make matters worse the volunteer called to tell me that Lady had sat up for a long time after I left watching the door as if she expected me to come back any moment to get her. On top of that I had also gotten an email that had just been made for the website to promote Lady’s adoption. It was photos of her from the shelter with a sad, sad song playing in the background. My husband was outside smoking a cigar and I went outside and literally sobbed on his shoulder. I wanted to go back and get her but I knew we couldn’t keep her and we’d agreed to wait a while to foster because it’s a big responsibility.
He hated seeing me like this but wasn’t convinced that I’d ever be able to ever let her go and we’d already agreed no second dog. I explained that if I was giving her up to a loving family and not returning her back to the haven, where she still spent much of her time in a kennel that I could do it. I could let her go. I just couldn’t leave her in the haven waiting for someone to see in her what we saw in her. It could be months, or even longer before someone chose her and I just couldn’t let her stay there wondering where I’d gone and why. He agreed to us fostering her, if I promised to actively try to find her a home, to attend adoption events with her and to circulate her adoption flyer and video and not to try to “sneak” her in as a permanent fixture. I hugged him so tight! I jumped back in my car and drove right back there that very night to go get Lady. It was just like the volunteer said. She was sitting up in her kennel staring at the door almost as if she knew I would be back, that there had to have been a mistake. She was right! We had bonded and there was no way I could leave her there. I owed it to her to find her a loving home and to ensure she had a good life and I promised her that I would.
Two months later Lady was adopted by someone who works with my husband. She saw her adoption flyer posted in the break room and immediately fell in love with her. She proved herself to be a perfect fit for Lady and responsible dog owner so she was approved to adopt her. When we took her to her new home I still cried because it’s always hard to say goodbye, but I knew without a doubt that she was “home”. She had found her destined place in this world and it made me so happy that she was finally going to have the life she deserved.
It’s been a year and a half since now since Lady found her forever home and we get regular updates on her. I came home recently and saw a stack of glossy photos laying on the table. It only took me a moment to realize they were of Lady enjoying a beautiful day at the beach and it made my day. I visited her a few months after the adoption and hope to see her again soon. I’m hoping that she’ll still remember me after all this time. I like to think that I’m kind of special to her, too.
We ended up fostering for a few months but had to stop when we inherited a second dog from a dying relative, but about a year ago we picked up a wandering stray from outside of a restaurant that we frequent. It was a cold and rainy night and he was more than happy to come to us for some food. He was friendly and seemed to be happy when we put him into the truck and took him home. His hair was horribly matted and he was infested with fleas. That night I sat on the back porch and with scissors started cutting the knots and matted pieces of fur and trimmed around his eyes so he could see, then bathed him and made him a bed in the garage. He went right over to that bed, curled up and we never heard a peep out of him all night. The next day I took him to the vet to have him scanned for a microchip, which he didn’t have, had him examined and got him a rabies shot. He was so matted that I had to break down and get him groomed. When I picked him up he looked like a totally different dog. He was adorable and once the fleas were gone he got to come inside.
I really felt like he had belonged to someone at one time because of his habits and how well adjusted he was, but he’d obviously been living on the streets for a while to be in such bad shape. Hoping someone was looking for him I posted ads on Craigslist and around the neighborhood but no one ever claimed him. We kept him for a month before one of my friends convinced her mom to take him and I hear that he’s spoiled rotten.
Currently, we have Jaxon, our 4 year-old German Shepherd rescue, Echo our 3 year-old German Shepherd (inherited from an aunt) and Charlie, our 3 year-old grand-dog Lab-Hound mix rescue living with us. It is a constant battle trying to keep the pet dander and dog hair from taking over the front room of our house where the dogs stay and don’t get me started on the condition of our back yard and covered patio. It looks like land mines have gone off with all of the holes out back and we could start our own fertilizer manufacturing plant with the amount of poop we have to scoop. We certainly won’t be in the running for yard of the month thanks to our four legged babies, but I’d much rather dodge dog bombs and avoid falling into one of those holes than to give up a life with my dogs.
In addition, we also have another rescue temporarily living in our garage (since April 21st), bringing our grand total of furry friends to 4! I’ll share the story of how she ended up there the next time I write. Her story has to be my best rescue story yet. Of course, her ending has yet to be written, but considering where she came from and what she has already survived, I know it will be a happy ending. She is destined for someone out there and will greatly enrich their lives. It’s just going to take some time before she is ready and we find that special person or family, but we will.
I always joke that I’ll never be the cat lady but I could quite possibly end up being the dog lady, minus the feces all over the house. If I’m ever lucky enough to acquire some land I could very possibly end up taking in every stray dog I came across and being accused of dog hoarding.
There’s something to be said about coming home to someone greeting you with a tail wagging at full speed, regardless of how you look or feel. No matter what kind of day you’ve had, or what kind of mood you may be in, the dog is always there, ever so faithfully awaiting your arrival, thrilled beyond measure when you walk through that door. Well, that’s a typical dog greeting one can expect unless said dog or dogs have misbehaved while their master was away. i.e. rummaged through the trash, chewed up a newspaper or left a little (or often big) surprise that they instinctively know you will not be happy to see. So, as long as your dog hasn’t misbehaved while you were away, your loyal companion will be eagerly waiting for you as you walk through the door with the warmest of welcome, without fail. I can’t think of anyone else in my life that is ever as happy to see me as my dogs are. Hence, another one of my favorite quotes is “My goal is to someday be the person my dog thinks I am.”
A few years ago I became involved as a volunteer for a local dog rescue group. I worked as their foster coordinator, which basically involved making calls and emailing our foster families to check on the progress of our foster dogs. I also attended their pet adoptions and other events to help with various things such as setting up, walking the dogs or talking to potential adopters. Due to some issues within the group, I no longer do that and haven’t been actively involved with a rescue group for about a year now and am truly missing it. It was something I really enjoyed doing and I also met some great people in the process. Hopefully, I’ll find the time to become actively involved with another rescue group again in the near future.
In the meantime, I do what I can, when I can on my own. I keep a “rescue kit” under the back seat in my truck. It’s a plastic container that contains disposable bowls, dog food, cat food, dog snacks, water and a leash & collar. If I spot a stray I will almost always stop and feed it, and sometimes I’ll attempt to coax it to me with the intention of taking it home, temporarily, until I can network and find it a home. Most of the time, the strays are skittish and won’t let me approach and will run off. In that case, I always leave some food.
After our dog Abby passed away we decided we wanted to eventually foster dogs instead of adopting a second dog. Lady was our first foster dog and she left her paw prints embedded deeply into my heart. When I met Lady, we had only discussed fostering but still had not decided it was time. I had only gone to select a dog from the shelter to pick up for a weekend visit. Sometimes rescue groups will ask for volunteers to take a dog home for a few days just to get them out of the kennel environment for a while where they can receive some outside interaction and socialization. They figure that a few days spent with someone are better than nothing, even though it’s only temporary and they have to return to the shelter. So I went to the shelter to pick out a dog to visit with us for a few days.
I probably had about 15 dogs to choose from. I walked from kennel to kennel reading each dog’s bio, sticking my hand through the wire cages to show them some affection. Some were receptive, some not so much. Some barked non-stop and some just stared at me or cowered. On first glance there was nothing special about Lady. She wasn’t the prettiest of dogs and nothing about her seemed to stand out. I have a hard time even making minor decisions so this was no easy task. I walked around and around and around but there was just something about Lady that kept drawing me back over to her. I’d have to say it was the way her big brown eyes followed me around the room. She really caught my attention. Once I learned that she had been with the rescue group for about a year and had been kenneled most of that time due to a shortage of foster homes, it made my decision easier. Lady was getting out of jail for a few days.
She was used to leashes and car rides from being transported to and from the vet and to adoptions and rode in my truck seat like a little Lady, sitting up staring out the window. She was such a sweetheart and after only spending a few days with her we had learned about her personality and quirks. Sadly, we didn’t feel that we were ready to take on fostering just yet so it was always understood that she would be returning to the shelter, which was actually a “haven” or home for dogs, but they were still kenneled most of the time. I was a little sad, but okay until I got her back to the haven and met the volunteer who was going to take her from me and put her into her kennel. Lady looked at me with those big brown eyes and watched every move I made while I was in the house. I sadly said my goodbyes then used the restroom and as I walked to the door to leave I glanced over and she was sitting wide-eyed and upright staring intently at me as if to say, “Where are you going? You’re leaving me here? No, wait. You can’t do that. We’re buddies now. Please take me back to the place with the other dogs and the rooms that I can roam freely in. I want to play ball in the back yard again. You’re not really leaving me here, right?” I’m really not exaggerating about her eyes. It was like she was communicating with me and begging me not to go. She seemed confident that I was going to open the kennel and we’d be leaving together and I felt horrible. I had no idea how bad it would make me feel. It was an hour’s drive back home and I sobbed the entire way.
When I got home I couldn’t quit crying and to make matters worse the volunteer called to tell me that Lady had sat up for a long time after I left watching the door as if she expected me to come back any moment to get her. On top of that I had also gotten an email that had just been made for the website to promote Lady’s adoption. It was photos of her from the shelter with a sad, sad song playing in the background. My husband was outside smoking a cigar and I went outside and literally sobbed on his shoulder. I wanted to go back and get her but I knew we couldn’t keep her and we’d agreed to wait a while to foster because it’s a big responsibility.
He hated seeing me like this but wasn’t convinced that I’d ever be able to ever let her go and we’d already agreed no second dog. I explained that if I was giving her up to a loving family and not returning her back to the haven, where she still spent much of her time in a kennel that I could do it. I could let her go. I just couldn’t leave her in the haven waiting for someone to see in her what we saw in her. It could be months, or even longer before someone chose her and I just couldn’t let her stay there wondering where I’d gone and why. He agreed to us fostering her, if I promised to actively try to find her a home, to attend adoption events with her and to circulate her adoption flyer and video and not to try to “sneak” her in as a permanent fixture. I hugged him so tight! I jumped back in my car and drove right back there that very night to go get Lady. It was just like the volunteer said. She was sitting up in her kennel staring at the door almost as if she knew I would be back, that there had to have been a mistake. She was right! We had bonded and there was no way I could leave her there. I owed it to her to find her a loving home and to ensure she had a good life and I promised her that I would.
Two months later Lady was adopted by someone who works with my husband. She saw her adoption flyer posted in the break room and immediately fell in love with her. She proved herself to be a perfect fit for Lady and responsible dog owner so she was approved to adopt her. When we took her to her new home I still cried because it’s always hard to say goodbye, but I knew without a doubt that she was “home”. She had found her destined place in this world and it made me so happy that she was finally going to have the life she deserved.
It’s been a year and a half since now since Lady found her forever home and we get regular updates on her. I came home recently and saw a stack of glossy photos laying on the table. It only took me a moment to realize they were of Lady enjoying a beautiful day at the beach and it made my day. I visited her a few months after the adoption and hope to see her again soon. I’m hoping that she’ll still remember me after all this time. I like to think that I’m kind of special to her, too.
We ended up fostering for a few months but had to stop when we inherited a second dog from a dying relative, but about a year ago we picked up a wandering stray from outside of a restaurant that we frequent. It was a cold and rainy night and he was more than happy to come to us for some food. He was friendly and seemed to be happy when we put him into the truck and took him home. His hair was horribly matted and he was infested with fleas. That night I sat on the back porch and with scissors started cutting the knots and matted pieces of fur and trimmed around his eyes so he could see, then bathed him and made him a bed in the garage. He went right over to that bed, curled up and we never heard a peep out of him all night. The next day I took him to the vet to have him scanned for a microchip, which he didn’t have, had him examined and got him a rabies shot. He was so matted that I had to break down and get him groomed. When I picked him up he looked like a totally different dog. He was adorable and once the fleas were gone he got to come inside.
I really felt like he had belonged to someone at one time because of his habits and how well adjusted he was, but he’d obviously been living on the streets for a while to be in such bad shape. Hoping someone was looking for him I posted ads on Craigslist and around the neighborhood but no one ever claimed him. We kept him for a month before one of my friends convinced her mom to take him and I hear that he’s spoiled rotten.
Currently, we have Jaxon, our 4 year-old German Shepherd rescue, Echo our 3 year-old German Shepherd (inherited from an aunt) and Charlie, our 3 year-old grand-dog Lab-Hound mix rescue living with us. It is a constant battle trying to keep the pet dander and dog hair from taking over the front room of our house where the dogs stay and don’t get me started on the condition of our back yard and covered patio. It looks like land mines have gone off with all of the holes out back and we could start our own fertilizer manufacturing plant with the amount of poop we have to scoop. We certainly won’t be in the running for yard of the month thanks to our four legged babies, but I’d much rather dodge dog bombs and avoid falling into one of those holes than to give up a life with my dogs.
In addition, we also have another rescue temporarily living in our garage (since April 21st), bringing our grand total of furry friends to 4! I’ll share the story of how she ended up there the next time I write. Her story has to be my best rescue story yet. Of course, her ending has yet to be written, but considering where she came from and what she has already survived, I know it will be a happy ending. She is destined for someone out there and will greatly enrich their lives. It’s just going to take some time before she is ready and we find that special person or family, but we will.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Dustin and Lott 44
I got this in an email today and could just feel the Texas spirit as I read it. It's long but worth the read.
Lot 44 From Mills County, Texas
Another year of rodeo has come and gone in San Antonio, Texas. For three weeks each February, the city decks out in cowboy finery to host the San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo, complete with top notch entertainment every night in the AT&T Center arena, from bronc riding, to Mutton Bustin’, to Extreme Bulls, followed by concerts from some of the best performers in Country music. Out on the grounds you can find petting zoos, a carnival, unique shopping experiences in the exhibition centers, and every kind of festival food one could hope for. There are plenty of spots to get a drink, listen to some local live music, watch pig races, try some kettle corn or Texas barbeque, or buy some Western art. Voted the number one Large Indoor Rodeo of the Year for the past five years in a row by the PRCA (Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association), the San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo is a first-class entertainment thrill ride with something, literally, for everyone.
Not as well known is the fact that we are also home to the largest Junior Livestock Auction in the world, right there among the entertainers and vendors and cowboys. The barns overflow with thousands of animals brought by children from around the state, and sometimes from farther away than the Texas border, hoping to win a place at the auction and the often very generous paycheck they can receive for their livestock if they are selected to participate. On the last weekend of the rodeo, the auction barn fills with the rowdy sounds of buyers bidding, auctioneers calling and the crowds cheering for the kids as they present…steers, poultry, pigs, goats, sheep….you name it, we buy it. The buyers are a Who’s Who of San Antonio, big corporations and wealthy individuals who believe in the future of agriculture in America and more importantly, who believe in the youth of Texas.
The media likes to film Extreme Bulls, buzz with the entertainment line up and talk about the record attendance at the rodeo each year. There is even an occasional piece about the Grand Champion Steer and the amazing price it brought. We wonder, though, if people know that the San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo is about educating the youth of Texas, awarding scholarships and sending kids to college. We wonder if while the cowboys are busting broncs and the crowds are loving Toby Keith and Tim McGraw, people know the reason for all of it is right there in the auction barns, where bidders buy animals and give the children money to help them follow their dreams. The SALE website describes our historic contributions to educating the youth of Texas, but stories such as this one, about Lot 44 from Mills County, Texas, usually don’t make the local paper.
On Saturday evening, February 20, 2010, a young boy brought his goat to the auction. Dustin Mangus drew Lot 44, slightly less than halfway through the 100 Lots going to auction that night. It was not a particularly advantageous or unlucky draw, but ordinarily might have been a place in the program that wouldn’t have commanded a record purchase price. The auctioneer, however, took time to reign in the frenzied crowd and tell Dustin’s story.
Early in the morning on December 8, 2009, Dustin, his younger brother and sister, and their father, David Mangus, were in a rollover accident near their home in Mullin, Texas. Their truck’s roof was crushed when it crashed into a tree, and David Mangus was killed at the scene. Dustin’s brother and sister suffered minor injuries and were treated and released from the hospital. Dustin, though, was in critical condition from his injuries, and underwent several surgeries to save his life and reconstruct his face. The first surgery was to remove a part of the truck’s dashboard that had lodged in his head, and to reconstruct the eye socket that was damaged as a result.
The little boy who stood before us on the auction block, holding his goat while we heard this story, smiled at us from a beautiful, innocent face that showed no signs of his tragedy or his loss. Had someone not shared his story, we never would have been allowed to ponder this child’s ability to overcome adversity. We never would have had the privilege of comprehending his incredible achievement. To have been able to continue to raise that animal and be ready for a stock show in February, he had to have gotten right back up and kept on living the minute they let him out of the hospital.
The auctioneer asked every bidder who had already pledged funds to this boy to stand, and every top buyer in the room stood. When the bidding opened, the price for Lot 44 was already at $20,000. The people of San Antonio opened their hearts for this boy. Corporation after corporation added on another thousand, another two thousand, another $5,000, and the price went to $60,000 at record speed. Individual members of corporations started making personal contributions out of their own money, and the price kept climbing. One of the auctioneers went to the buyers’ reception area to bring in more people to hear the story, and the price kept climbing. Dustin’s little brother joined him on the block and the two of them smiled their sweet smiles while the money kept coming in, and we feel certain they had no idea what those numbers meant. Dustin’s grandpa came down from the audience to stand with the boys and choked back tears, while people in the room who weren’t registered bidders started coming forward to make personal contributions. It was one heck of an altar call, and the only thing flowing faster than the money was the tears.
When the price hit $110,000, one of the top buyers announced he had partnered with another to add on to make it an even $150,000 for Dustin. The gavel came down on the highest priced goat at this year’s Junior Livestock Auction while everyone cheered and cried at the same time. Dustin’s grandpa was openly crying when he took the microphone to thank the crowd in a shaky voice, with no real ability to impart his gratitude more than his tears communicated…. He simply said “Thank you. I don’t know what else to say. Thank you.”
We all know there is no amount of money that heals the pain of losing your Dad. Not one of us gave to this cause imagining there was any way it could ever make up for what Dustin and his family lost. This was our way of reaching out to a family in need, in tragedy, in suffering, and offering them something shining and positive and good to help them on the road that lies ahead. Dustin has already had to overcome more adversity at the age of 10 than some of us will ever face. What the people of San Antonio did for Dustin and his family was truly amazing, but even more amazing is the spirit Dustin embodies, in showing up with his goat to do what he set out to do. With a smile on his face and with his family by his side.
This demonstration of generosity, kindness and support is what the San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo is really about. We are investing in the future of our country by investing in the lives of our country’s children. We are raising money to help provide educational opportunities for as many children as we can reach. And sometimes, we are witnessing miracles.
You had a part in Dustin’s story, and every other story that came through the auction this year. We hope one day very soon, you will come see it for yourself. Thank you for your contribution to our efforts. You and Dustin are our heroes.
From the bottom our hearts,
The Raffle Committee
Lot 44 From Mills County, Texas
Another year of rodeo has come and gone in San Antonio, Texas. For three weeks each February, the city decks out in cowboy finery to host the San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo, complete with top notch entertainment every night in the AT&T Center arena, from bronc riding, to Mutton Bustin’, to Extreme Bulls, followed by concerts from some of the best performers in Country music. Out on the grounds you can find petting zoos, a carnival, unique shopping experiences in the exhibition centers, and every kind of festival food one could hope for. There are plenty of spots to get a drink, listen to some local live music, watch pig races, try some kettle corn or Texas barbeque, or buy some Western art. Voted the number one Large Indoor Rodeo of the Year for the past five years in a row by the PRCA (Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association), the San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo is a first-class entertainment thrill ride with something, literally, for everyone.
Not as well known is the fact that we are also home to the largest Junior Livestock Auction in the world, right there among the entertainers and vendors and cowboys. The barns overflow with thousands of animals brought by children from around the state, and sometimes from farther away than the Texas border, hoping to win a place at the auction and the often very generous paycheck they can receive for their livestock if they are selected to participate. On the last weekend of the rodeo, the auction barn fills with the rowdy sounds of buyers bidding, auctioneers calling and the crowds cheering for the kids as they present…steers, poultry, pigs, goats, sheep….you name it, we buy it. The buyers are a Who’s Who of San Antonio, big corporations and wealthy individuals who believe in the future of agriculture in America and more importantly, who believe in the youth of Texas.
The media likes to film Extreme Bulls, buzz with the entertainment line up and talk about the record attendance at the rodeo each year. There is even an occasional piece about the Grand Champion Steer and the amazing price it brought. We wonder, though, if people know that the San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo is about educating the youth of Texas, awarding scholarships and sending kids to college. We wonder if while the cowboys are busting broncs and the crowds are loving Toby Keith and Tim McGraw, people know the reason for all of it is right there in the auction barns, where bidders buy animals and give the children money to help them follow their dreams. The SALE website describes our historic contributions to educating the youth of Texas, but stories such as this one, about Lot 44 from Mills County, Texas, usually don’t make the local paper.
On Saturday evening, February 20, 2010, a young boy brought his goat to the auction. Dustin Mangus drew Lot 44, slightly less than halfway through the 100 Lots going to auction that night. It was not a particularly advantageous or unlucky draw, but ordinarily might have been a place in the program that wouldn’t have commanded a record purchase price. The auctioneer, however, took time to reign in the frenzied crowd and tell Dustin’s story.
Early in the morning on December 8, 2009, Dustin, his younger brother and sister, and their father, David Mangus, were in a rollover accident near their home in Mullin, Texas. Their truck’s roof was crushed when it crashed into a tree, and David Mangus was killed at the scene. Dustin’s brother and sister suffered minor injuries and were treated and released from the hospital. Dustin, though, was in critical condition from his injuries, and underwent several surgeries to save his life and reconstruct his face. The first surgery was to remove a part of the truck’s dashboard that had lodged in his head, and to reconstruct the eye socket that was damaged as a result.
The little boy who stood before us on the auction block, holding his goat while we heard this story, smiled at us from a beautiful, innocent face that showed no signs of his tragedy or his loss. Had someone not shared his story, we never would have been allowed to ponder this child’s ability to overcome adversity. We never would have had the privilege of comprehending his incredible achievement. To have been able to continue to raise that animal and be ready for a stock show in February, he had to have gotten right back up and kept on living the minute they let him out of the hospital.
The auctioneer asked every bidder who had already pledged funds to this boy to stand, and every top buyer in the room stood. When the bidding opened, the price for Lot 44 was already at $20,000. The people of San Antonio opened their hearts for this boy. Corporation after corporation added on another thousand, another two thousand, another $5,000, and the price went to $60,000 at record speed. Individual members of corporations started making personal contributions out of their own money, and the price kept climbing. One of the auctioneers went to the buyers’ reception area to bring in more people to hear the story, and the price kept climbing. Dustin’s little brother joined him on the block and the two of them smiled their sweet smiles while the money kept coming in, and we feel certain they had no idea what those numbers meant. Dustin’s grandpa came down from the audience to stand with the boys and choked back tears, while people in the room who weren’t registered bidders started coming forward to make personal contributions. It was one heck of an altar call, and the only thing flowing faster than the money was the tears.
When the price hit $110,000, one of the top buyers announced he had partnered with another to add on to make it an even $150,000 for Dustin. The gavel came down on the highest priced goat at this year’s Junior Livestock Auction while everyone cheered and cried at the same time. Dustin’s grandpa was openly crying when he took the microphone to thank the crowd in a shaky voice, with no real ability to impart his gratitude more than his tears communicated…. He simply said “Thank you. I don’t know what else to say. Thank you.”
We all know there is no amount of money that heals the pain of losing your Dad. Not one of us gave to this cause imagining there was any way it could ever make up for what Dustin and his family lost. This was our way of reaching out to a family in need, in tragedy, in suffering, and offering them something shining and positive and good to help them on the road that lies ahead. Dustin has already had to overcome more adversity at the age of 10 than some of us will ever face. What the people of San Antonio did for Dustin and his family was truly amazing, but even more amazing is the spirit Dustin embodies, in showing up with his goat to do what he set out to do. With a smile on his face and with his family by his side.
This demonstration of generosity, kindness and support is what the San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo is really about. We are investing in the future of our country by investing in the lives of our country’s children. We are raising money to help provide educational opportunities for as many children as we can reach. And sometimes, we are witnessing miracles.
You had a part in Dustin’s story, and every other story that came through the auction this year. We hope one day very soon, you will come see it for yourself. Thank you for your contribution to our efforts. You and Dustin are our heroes.
From the bottom our hearts,
The Raffle Committee
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Dear Blogger, Please Don't Delete My Blog
Oh, how I miss blogging regularly. It used to be therapeutic and something I looked forward to doing. It was enjoyable. I used to have stuff pop into my head and it wouldn't go away until I had made it into an entry. Now stuff pops into my head and I can't seem to get it here so it dies somewhere in my brain.
It's already February of 2010 and I haven't posted anything since August 2009. I read on another blog that everything I've ever written on blogger could disappear if I go too long without posting something and that worried me. I would die if I lost everything on here. I have some stories on here that mean a lot to me from when I was blogging on a regular basis, especially during the first year I started it.
I keep thinking something will trigger me to start blogging again like I used to but it hasn't happened yet.
I've noticed that many of the blogs I used to read daily have also gone through long lulls in writing so I'm not the only one neglecting their blog.
If this writer's block or whatever it is ever passes maybe I'll eventually write something worth reading again.
It's already February of 2010 and I haven't posted anything since August 2009. I read on another blog that everything I've ever written on blogger could disappear if I go too long without posting something and that worried me. I would die if I lost everything on here. I have some stories on here that mean a lot to me from when I was blogging on a regular basis, especially during the first year I started it.
I keep thinking something will trigger me to start blogging again like I used to but it hasn't happened yet.
I've noticed that many of the blogs I used to read daily have also gone through long lulls in writing so I'm not the only one neglecting their blog.
If this writer's block or whatever it is ever passes maybe I'll eventually write something worth reading again.
Friday, August 21, 2009
R.I.P. Officer Jesse Hamilton
My prayers go out to the family of Officer Jesse Hamilton and the Pasadena Police Department today. He was shot and killed today in the line of duty. This hits very close to home for me and my family. As most of you know, my husband is a fellow officer and this is his department. This is the fourth officer to lose his life while on duty in the history of the Pasadena Police Department, and the first officer to lose his life since my husband started with the PPD department nine years ago.
My heart is breaking for his wife and children. His fellow comrades are mourning his loss and dealing with the reality of the dangers they face every day on the job.
I will be praying for his family and fellow officers and will be hugging mine a little tighter this evening.
R.I.P. Officer Jesse Hamilton, and thank you for your selfless service to the citizens of Pasadena. May God be with your family.
Article about the shooting.
Memorial page and donation info.
My heart is breaking for his wife and children. His fellow comrades are mourning his loss and dealing with the reality of the dangers they face every day on the job.
I will be praying for his family and fellow officers and will be hugging mine a little tighter this evening.
R.I.P. Officer Jesse Hamilton, and thank you for your selfless service to the citizens of Pasadena. May God be with your family.
Article about the shooting.
Memorial page and donation info.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Facebook or Crackbook? (as one friend likes to call it)
When I went to post the new link about the arrest in my friend’s murder, I couldn’t remember my password to blogger. It eventually came to me but the reality of just how long it’s been since I’ve updated my blog hit me. Three-months without blogging is a long time, even for me!
Since my last update in May, Les and I have taken a trip to Chicago where he had a work seminar to attend. I tagged along and we flew up early and took a detour over to Michigan to spend Memorial Day with my friend Vicki and her family. Lauren moved home for the summer and my front living room has been serving as her storage room for the past two-months. She also spent five weeks studying Spanish in Costa Rica and returned home last week. Les and I went kayaking for the first time. At night! It was really cool. We also celebrated our 22nd wedding anniversary on July 9th. That’s more than half of both of our lives! We decided to skip out on the annual family camping trip this year but Cassidy & Caden still went with my parents for the full two weeks plus a few days. Les & I enjoyed the time alone but by the second week it was just too weird around here without the kids. I’m not so sure I’ll ever be ready for the empty nest! My friend Shelli bought a house with a pool nearby and I have spent many days over there enjoying it, sometimes all by myself because she had to work most of the summer. (Side Note: Enjoying her pool has only fueled my desire for one, but I’m still trying to convince Les that he wouldn’t be stuck doing all of the maintenance alone). I became involved with Dakota Rescue, a local dog rescue organization. I took a volunteer position as their foster coordinator/recruiter, which mainly consists of staying updated on all of the dogs in foster care mostly by email and some phone calls, which I can do from home. We also took in a foster dog from Dakota Rescue, so we now have three dogs living inside until we find her a home, which is sometimes stressful, but worth it. I have stayed true to my night owl ways while being off for the summer and now only have three days left to adjust my sleep schedule before going back to work. Ugh!
I wish I could blame my blogging absence on something relevant like I’ve been busy saving the world but there’s no valid reason for my long absence. If I had to pin it down to one specific thing I would have to say it’s been facebook, along with Farm Town.
Most of my online time now is spent communicating with friends on facebook. Facebook is a place where I can go 24/7 and always find at least one of my 200 plus friends online. I’ve reconnected with lost friends from elementary school, old teachers, old friends from our Military years, out of state friends and relatives, local friends and relatives that I don’t get to see very often, etc. It’s really been awesome. I’ve been “tagged” in photos from the past that I never even knew existed.
People of all ages seem to be taking advantage of facebook. I even set my mom up with one and she loves it. If you don’t have a facebook you’re truly missing out on an invaluable service that can help you reconnect with people from your past and present. Once you join you will start receiving friend requests from people you haven’t seen or heard from in years and you’ll be wondering how in the world they ever found you. I’m constantly seeing friend suggestions pop up on my side bar of people I might know.
I grew up in a very tight knit community where everyone knew everyone back in the day. It’s been a blast reconnecting with some of these people that I haven’t seen in 20 or 30 years! There have been regular social outings going on all summer with old childhood and school friends. Someone will post an open invite for their friends to join them out somewhere to hear a band, to do a walk for charity, for a welcome home party, swim parties, a girls luncheon, etc. just to name a few and it will turn into a big reunion style get together. I’ve attended a few of the outings and had a blast seeing people. It’s funny how you can pick up right where you left with some people.
You can get a peak into someone’s world and generally know how they’re doing that day just by their status updates. Prayer requests are common and the outpouring of emotional support being offered can be comforting to a mom with a son in Iraq, someone with a sick parent or child, etc. Last week we were all viewing mobile photos from an old school friend of his wife while in labor! Nothing graphic but we were being updated throughout the day until we finally got a picture of the new baby. You just gotta love cell phone cameras and phones with internet access.
I have converted some anti-facebook people who wanted NOTHING to do with it into full-blown facebook addicts! Be careful, because once you take the plunge into that world, it will suck you right in and you might find yourself up all night long chatting with people, looking at their photos, searching for friends or playing one of the many games that facebook offers, sitting in the doctor’s office updating your status and checking your facebook from your phone.
Facebook itself is addicting but inside of the facebook world is a game called Farm Town. Typically, I’m not a big game player but this game has turned me into a farming junkie, along with many of my friends and people all over the world. I’d love to elaborate more but have to go check on my pineapples!
Since my last update in May, Les and I have taken a trip to Chicago where he had a work seminar to attend. I tagged along and we flew up early and took a detour over to Michigan to spend Memorial Day with my friend Vicki and her family. Lauren moved home for the summer and my front living room has been serving as her storage room for the past two-months. She also spent five weeks studying Spanish in Costa Rica and returned home last week. Les and I went kayaking for the first time. At night! It was really cool. We also celebrated our 22nd wedding anniversary on July 9th. That’s more than half of both of our lives! We decided to skip out on the annual family camping trip this year but Cassidy & Caden still went with my parents for the full two weeks plus a few days. Les & I enjoyed the time alone but by the second week it was just too weird around here without the kids. I’m not so sure I’ll ever be ready for the empty nest! My friend Shelli bought a house with a pool nearby and I have spent many days over there enjoying it, sometimes all by myself because she had to work most of the summer. (Side Note: Enjoying her pool has only fueled my desire for one, but I’m still trying to convince Les that he wouldn’t be stuck doing all of the maintenance alone). I became involved with Dakota Rescue, a local dog rescue organization. I took a volunteer position as their foster coordinator/recruiter, which mainly consists of staying updated on all of the dogs in foster care mostly by email and some phone calls, which I can do from home. We also took in a foster dog from Dakota Rescue, so we now have three dogs living inside until we find her a home, which is sometimes stressful, but worth it. I have stayed true to my night owl ways while being off for the summer and now only have three days left to adjust my sleep schedule before going back to work. Ugh!
I wish I could blame my blogging absence on something relevant like I’ve been busy saving the world but there’s no valid reason for my long absence. If I had to pin it down to one specific thing I would have to say it’s been facebook, along with Farm Town.
Most of my online time now is spent communicating with friends on facebook. Facebook is a place where I can go 24/7 and always find at least one of my 200 plus friends online. I’ve reconnected with lost friends from elementary school, old teachers, old friends from our Military years, out of state friends and relatives, local friends and relatives that I don’t get to see very often, etc. It’s really been awesome. I’ve been “tagged” in photos from the past that I never even knew existed.
People of all ages seem to be taking advantage of facebook. I even set my mom up with one and she loves it. If you don’t have a facebook you’re truly missing out on an invaluable service that can help you reconnect with people from your past and present. Once you join you will start receiving friend requests from people you haven’t seen or heard from in years and you’ll be wondering how in the world they ever found you. I’m constantly seeing friend suggestions pop up on my side bar of people I might know.
I grew up in a very tight knit community where everyone knew everyone back in the day. It’s been a blast reconnecting with some of these people that I haven’t seen in 20 or 30 years! There have been regular social outings going on all summer with old childhood and school friends. Someone will post an open invite for their friends to join them out somewhere to hear a band, to do a walk for charity, for a welcome home party, swim parties, a girls luncheon, etc. just to name a few and it will turn into a big reunion style get together. I’ve attended a few of the outings and had a blast seeing people. It’s funny how you can pick up right where you left with some people.
You can get a peak into someone’s world and generally know how they’re doing that day just by their status updates. Prayer requests are common and the outpouring of emotional support being offered can be comforting to a mom with a son in Iraq, someone with a sick parent or child, etc. Last week we were all viewing mobile photos from an old school friend of his wife while in labor! Nothing graphic but we were being updated throughout the day until we finally got a picture of the new baby. You just gotta love cell phone cameras and phones with internet access.
I have converted some anti-facebook people who wanted NOTHING to do with it into full-blown facebook addicts! Be careful, because once you take the plunge into that world, it will suck you right in and you might find yourself up all night long chatting with people, looking at their photos, searching for friends or playing one of the many games that facebook offers, sitting in the doctor’s office updating your status and checking your facebook from your phone.
Facebook itself is addicting but inside of the facebook world is a game called Farm Town. Typically, I’m not a big game player but this game has turned me into a farming junkie, along with many of my friends and people all over the world. I’d love to elaborate more but have to go check on my pineapples!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Slightly Awkward Moment
I picked Caden and his friend up from the Strawberry Festival yesterday and was headed to drop his friend off at home. Both boys were riding in the backseat. I really wasn't paying much attention to the conversation between these two 13-year-old boys until something caught my ear.
Caden: I couldn’t tell if they were real or fake. Could you?
Alec: No.
Me: (Without even thinking, spoken in a shocked and shrill tone of voice)
Are you two talking about boobs?
I turned around to see Alec with a mouth full of strawberries, eyes wide open as he burst into hysterical laughter and both boys responded in between their laughter with a loud NO.
Caden: We were talking about those fake people in front of the church. They look real.
Laughter continues. My face is now flushed and I am now laughing, explaining myself and apologizing.
Caden: Mom, I will never look at you the same again.
More laughter. Maybe I need to get my head out of the gutter.
Last night I drove back past the church and saw the fake people (a.k.a. statues).
I laughed out loud just thinking about it.
Caden: I couldn’t tell if they were real or fake. Could you?
Alec: No.
Me: (Without even thinking, spoken in a shocked and shrill tone of voice)
Are you two talking about boobs?
I turned around to see Alec with a mouth full of strawberries, eyes wide open as he burst into hysterical laughter and both boys responded in between their laughter with a loud NO.
Caden: We were talking about those fake people in front of the church. They look real.
Laughter continues. My face is now flushed and I am now laughing, explaining myself and apologizing.
Caden: Mom, I will never look at you the same again.
More laughter. Maybe I need to get my head out of the gutter.
Last night I drove back past the church and saw the fake people (a.k.a. statues).
I laughed out loud just thinking about it.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Effective Way to Break a Nasty Habit
I have tons of pet peeves. One of them is when people leave their dental floss picks laying around after using them instead of putting them in the trash. It totally grosses me out. Seriously, who wants to look at something that was stuck between your teeth with remnants of your last meal hanging from it? Please, do us all a favor and find a trash can. I feel the same way about used Q-tips. Luckily no one at my house does that but I’ve seen them next to bathroom sinks elsewhere.
Cassidy has recently started wearing rubber bands on her braces. They are supposed to be worn 24 hours a day and taken out while eating. They can be reused after meals but generally need to be changed out once a day. Since day one she has been removing them to eat, but forgetting about them and leaving them laying around the house in various places.(The coffee table, the dining room table, the bathroom counter, etc.) To her credit they’re usually lying on a paper towel, but still!
I cringed at the thought of her being at school and removing them during lunch every day, so I bought her a small round plastic container to hold them in. It’s about the size of a quarter and is actually made to hold medicine. I told her to use that rather than laying them on a napkin on the table for everyone to see while they’re eating. I know she has been using it because I recently found it in the washing machine after doing a load of her jeans.
I've made it perfectly clear that I’m tired of stumbling upon her used rubber bands throughout the house but she continues leaving them all over. After I saw four of them sitting on the coffee table this last time I started thinking of ways I could break her of this nasty habit. (Obviously, my complaining isn't doing the trick).
I thought back to how Les once cured Lauren of a nasty little habit she had several years ago. We were having issues with her leaving huge wads of her hair in the shower drain. Cassidy & Caden would complain about not wanting to remove it before their baths/showers and often times Lauren wouldn’t be home to go do it herself. I was often stuck pulling it out for them and my constant complaining to her wasn’t phasing her. It went on for a while before Les finally got fed up and found a way to finally get through to her.
He took a big wad of her long hair from the drain and left it sitting right on top of her pillow. She finally got the message. Perhaps I should try that out on Cassidy.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Justice for Tina
In April of 2008, I shared a local story that hit close to home. You can read about it here.
It's been one year since Tina's murder and one suspect is still at large. The family recently appeared on the Today show hoping to generate some new leads in the manhunt for the remaining suspect. It is rumored that he fled to Mexico. Imagine that.
As stated in the original post, both suspects were here illegally and both had been arrested prior to the murder. Please pray that this monster will be caught and that justice will be served for this grieving family.
It's been one year since Tina's murder and one suspect is still at large. The family recently appeared on the Today show hoping to generate some new leads in the manhunt for the remaining suspect. It is rumored that he fled to Mexico. Imagine that.
As stated in the original post, both suspects were here illegally and both had been arrested prior to the murder. Please pray that this monster will be caught and that justice will be served for this grieving family.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Happy 21st, Nawen!
For the first time since you were born I will not see you in person on your special day and that makes me sad. I hope you have a wonderful day and night out with your friends.
I love you.
I love you.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Always Check Their Homework
I saw this on one of the blogs that I read and thought it was funny.
Homework:
Letter to Teacher:
Dear Mrs. Boddel,
I wish to clarify that I am not now, nor have I ever been, an exotic dancer. I work at Home Depot and I told Sarah how hectic it was last week before the blizzard hit. I told her we sold out every single shovel we had. Then I found one more in the back room, and several people were fighting over who would get it.
Sarah's picture does NOT show me dancing around a pole. It's supposed to depict me selling the last snow shovel we had at Home Depot. From now on I will remember to check her homework more thoroughly,
Sincerely,
Mrs. Inkeles
Homework:
Letter to Teacher:
Dear Mrs. Boddel,
I wish to clarify that I am not now, nor have I ever been, an exotic dancer. I work at Home Depot and I told Sarah how hectic it was last week before the blizzard hit. I told her we sold out every single shovel we had. Then I found one more in the back room, and several people were fighting over who would get it.
Sarah's picture does NOT show me dancing around a pole. It's supposed to depict me selling the last snow shovel we had at Home Depot. From now on I will remember to check her homework more thoroughly,
Sincerely,
Mrs. Inkeles
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Cujo and Chockitt Milk
We moved into our current house when Cassidy was three-years-old. I was a stay at home mom when the kids were younger and being that I stayed home with the kids, we were night owls. Lauren was also a night owl except during the school year.
Shortly after we got settled into this house I decided it was time to get the younger kids to bed a little earlier than they were accustomed to and on a more normal, balanced schedule. I was also going to try to reverse my natural night owl ways and also get myself into bed at a decent hour, which still probably wasn’t what most people would consider a decent hour.
Caden was easy to train for the new schedule. I could just lay him in his crib and he would fall asleep within 10 minutes. Cassidy, however, wasn’t exactly pleased about her new mandatory bedtime. She has always been strong-willed (most people call it stubborn), had a temper and was one to make it very well known if she wasn’t happy about something.
To make it easier on myself and to keep her from raising hell and waking everyone else up, I, at first, allowed her to go to bed with a movie on. (Yes, we had a three-year-old with a TV and VCR in her bedroom because that’s just how we roll). I would put the movie in, turn off all the lights in the house, go to bed and read for a while. I knew from past experience that if I stayed up, she would inevitably come into the living room asking for a snack or just wanting to hang out with me until the wee hours. (It’s in her genes to be a night owl)
When we first began the new schedule she started falling asleep during the movie and I’d usually go in and turn her TV off, but about a week or so into it she began waking back up in the middle of the night (like 2 or 3am) and coming into my room to wake me up. She would stand beside my bed and in a very deep and angry voice (picture Satan here) she would say, “I want Cujo and Chocolate milk”. (Pronunciation of chocolate = chockitt) Being the considerate wife that I am and knowing that Les had to get up early, I would lead her out of our room to go tend to her because she wasn’t exactly whispering her request to me.
In the beginning, I was so tired that I would oblige with her request. I didn’t want her to wake the whole house up and figured that she would go right back to sleep quickly since it was the middle of the night. I would walk her to the kitchen still half asleep, wait on her to finish her chockitt milk so I could put the movie back on, turn off the lights and go back to bed.
Unbeknownst to me I was creating a monster. Literally. This became her new routine for a few weeks before I’d finally had enough of these middle of the night wake up calls and decided they had to stop. I was going to enforce the one movie at bedtime rule and there would be no more middle of the night movie requests.
Trying to break Cassidy of this habit was like trying to take crack from a junkie. (Not that I know anything about that firsthand but I have seen movies!) She didn’t take it well at all.
The first night that I took a stand and broke it to her that she wasn’t getting “Cujo and chockitt milk” was not a pleasant experience for any of us. It was as if we had the exorcist visiting us here at our home during an exorcism. She woke the entire house. I think I saw her head spin a few times and green stuff spewing from her mouth at full speed. I’m pretty sure the neighbors came outside to see what the commotion was all about. Eventually, we put her in a straight jacket and tied her to her bed, but at least then we could all finally get some sleep. Nah, really, I just laid down in her bed with her and duct taped her mouth shut. After about a week of that she finally accepted her new bedtime rules. Ha! Are you wondering if that’s really true? No, but let’s just say it wasn’t a pleasant experience for any of us living in this house.
Moral of story: Benadryl has more than one purpose.
Just kidding. We all paid the price for at least a week. She eventually quit disrupting the entire house at 3am for “Cujo and chockitt milk” and started making her requests in daytime hours.
Shortly after we got settled into this house I decided it was time to get the younger kids to bed a little earlier than they were accustomed to and on a more normal, balanced schedule. I was also going to try to reverse my natural night owl ways and also get myself into bed at a decent hour, which still probably wasn’t what most people would consider a decent hour.
Caden was easy to train for the new schedule. I could just lay him in his crib and he would fall asleep within 10 minutes. Cassidy, however, wasn’t exactly pleased about her new mandatory bedtime. She has always been strong-willed (most people call it stubborn), had a temper and was one to make it very well known if she wasn’t happy about something.
To make it easier on myself and to keep her from raising hell and waking everyone else up, I, at first, allowed her to go to bed with a movie on. (Yes, we had a three-year-old with a TV and VCR in her bedroom because that’s just how we roll). I would put the movie in, turn off all the lights in the house, go to bed and read for a while. I knew from past experience that if I stayed up, she would inevitably come into the living room asking for a snack or just wanting to hang out with me until the wee hours. (It’s in her genes to be a night owl)
When we first began the new schedule she started falling asleep during the movie and I’d usually go in and turn her TV off, but about a week or so into it she began waking back up in the middle of the night (like 2 or 3am) and coming into my room to wake me up. She would stand beside my bed and in a very deep and angry voice (picture Satan here) she would say, “I want Cujo and Chocolate milk”. (Pronunciation of chocolate = chockitt) Being the considerate wife that I am and knowing that Les had to get up early, I would lead her out of our room to go tend to her because she wasn’t exactly whispering her request to me.
In the beginning, I was so tired that I would oblige with her request. I didn’t want her to wake the whole house up and figured that she would go right back to sleep quickly since it was the middle of the night. I would walk her to the kitchen still half asleep, wait on her to finish her chockitt milk so I could put the movie back on, turn off the lights and go back to bed.
Unbeknownst to me I was creating a monster. Literally. This became her new routine for a few weeks before I’d finally had enough of these middle of the night wake up calls and decided they had to stop. I was going to enforce the one movie at bedtime rule and there would be no more middle of the night movie requests.
Trying to break Cassidy of this habit was like trying to take crack from a junkie. (Not that I know anything about that firsthand but I have seen movies!) She didn’t take it well at all.
The first night that I took a stand and broke it to her that she wasn’t getting “Cujo and chockitt milk” was not a pleasant experience for any of us. It was as if we had the exorcist visiting us here at our home during an exorcism. She woke the entire house. I think I saw her head spin a few times and green stuff spewing from her mouth at full speed. I’m pretty sure the neighbors came outside to see what the commotion was all about. Eventually, we put her in a straight jacket and tied her to her bed, but at least then we could all finally get some sleep. Nah, really, I just laid down in her bed with her and duct taped her mouth shut. After about a week of that she finally accepted her new bedtime rules. Ha! Are you wondering if that’s really true? No, but let’s just say it wasn’t a pleasant experience for any of us living in this house.
Moral of story: Benadryl has more than one purpose.
Just kidding. We all paid the price for at least a week. She eventually quit disrupting the entire house at 3am for “Cujo and chockitt milk” and started making her requests in daytime hours.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Fine Parenting as Revealed by a 3-Year-Old
The first movie that Cassidy ever actually sat still long enough to watch from beginning to end was called Far From Home: The Adventures of Yellow Dog, known in our family simply as “Yellow Dog”. She has been a dog lover since she was an infant, always trying to get as close as possible to our German shepherd, Chelsi. I can’t count how many teething biscuits she willingly shared with that dog while she sat in her walker giggling.
Yellow dog is about a boy and his yellow lab, named Yellow. After the boat they are on capsizes, the boy and his dog are stranded in the wilderness on their own until finally being rescued. Cassidy loved this movie beginning at the age of two. She would walk around asking to watch Yellow dog constantly. As a matter of fact, we bought it for her on DVD this year for Christmas. She probably hasn’t seen it in years but it was one of those things when I saw on DVD I just had to get for her.
Her love for real life dog movies continued as she broadened her horizons and started watching more dog movies. She also loved Homeward Bound. One weekend she went to stay with my mother-in-law, who back at that time was totally breaking the law by renting movies and copying them. She always had a huge selection of VHS movies that the kids or anyone else could choose from and borrow. We actually used to joke that she was worse than Blockbuster because if we borrowed any movies she always remembered exactly what we’d taken home and would be asking for them if we ever forgot to return them. She didn’t charge late fees so I guess she really wasn’t that bad!
When Cassidy had just turned three she returned home from a weekend visit with her grandma and now had a new favorite movie. Can you guess what dog movie it was? Here’s a hint: It’s a about a rabid dog that traps a mother and her young son inside their car when they arrive at an empty ranch house where the dog has already killed his owner. Ironically, the man was going to fix the woman’s car, which now will not start. The dog stalks them while they are stranded in their car and tries to kill them for two days every time they attempt to escape and run into the empty house. They almost die from the heat and having no food or water. They also sit in their car and watch helplessly as the dog mauls the sheriff to death. If you guessed Cujo, then you are correct. Yes, that would be the one!
At least give me some credit because I did make sure that Les edited out the sex scene in the beginning of the movie from Cassidy’s copy. (We got tired of getting up after the movie started to fast forward through it) See, I really do try and monitor what my children are exposed to. I just didn’t think a dog terrorizing and killing people was that bad.
Around this time we took the kids to an Astros game, back when they were still playing in the Astrodome. We sat behind a couple at the game who chatted with Cassidy throughout the game. They clearly thought she was cute and seemed to be amused with her. At one point the lady turned around and began asking her questions. What is your name? How old are you? Do you like the Astros? Does that cotton candy taste good? What is your favorite movie? To which Cassidy replied very clearly, CUJO! Judging by the expression and look of shock on the woman’s face I'm fairly certain she was expecting a bit of a different response from this sweet little girl, perhaps something more like Toy Story, Bambi or Cinderella. She left the lady speechless and I wanted to crawl under my chair. This might explain why I lost out on Mother of the Year in 1997.
Yellow dog is about a boy and his yellow lab, named Yellow. After the boat they are on capsizes, the boy and his dog are stranded in the wilderness on their own until finally being rescued. Cassidy loved this movie beginning at the age of two. She would walk around asking to watch Yellow dog constantly. As a matter of fact, we bought it for her on DVD this year for Christmas. She probably hasn’t seen it in years but it was one of those things when I saw on DVD I just had to get for her.
Her love for real life dog movies continued as she broadened her horizons and started watching more dog movies. She also loved Homeward Bound. One weekend she went to stay with my mother-in-law, who back at that time was totally breaking the law by renting movies and copying them. She always had a huge selection of VHS movies that the kids or anyone else could choose from and borrow. We actually used to joke that she was worse than Blockbuster because if we borrowed any movies she always remembered exactly what we’d taken home and would be asking for them if we ever forgot to return them. She didn’t charge late fees so I guess she really wasn’t that bad!
When Cassidy had just turned three she returned home from a weekend visit with her grandma and now had a new favorite movie. Can you guess what dog movie it was? Here’s a hint: It’s a about a rabid dog that traps a mother and her young son inside their car when they arrive at an empty ranch house where the dog has already killed his owner. Ironically, the man was going to fix the woman’s car, which now will not start. The dog stalks them while they are stranded in their car and tries to kill them for two days every time they attempt to escape and run into the empty house. They almost die from the heat and having no food or water. They also sit in their car and watch helplessly as the dog mauls the sheriff to death. If you guessed Cujo, then you are correct. Yes, that would be the one!
At least give me some credit because I did make sure that Les edited out the sex scene in the beginning of the movie from Cassidy’s copy. (We got tired of getting up after the movie started to fast forward through it) See, I really do try and monitor what my children are exposed to. I just didn’t think a dog terrorizing and killing people was that bad.
Around this time we took the kids to an Astros game, back when they were still playing in the Astrodome. We sat behind a couple at the game who chatted with Cassidy throughout the game. They clearly thought she was cute and seemed to be amused with her. At one point the lady turned around and began asking her questions. What is your name? How old are you? Do you like the Astros? Does that cotton candy taste good? What is your favorite movie? To which Cassidy replied very clearly, CUJO! Judging by the expression and look of shock on the woman’s face I'm fairly certain she was expecting a bit of a different response from this sweet little girl, perhaps something more like Toy Story, Bambi or Cinderella. She left the lady speechless and I wanted to crawl under my chair. This might explain why I lost out on Mother of the Year in 1997.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
I Can See Clearly Now
I never wore or needed glasses until I turned 38. Les didn’t either until he was also 38. For me, reading glasses were for “the elderly” and I absolutely refused to believe I needed them, even after the words on anything I was trying to read had become blurry.
After much reluctance on my part and Les’ insistence that I try out his glasses for reading, I broke down and gave them a try and they made a difference. I finally accepted the fact that I was indeed getting older and actually needed the dreaded reading glasses. At first it was only necessary at home and I kept a pair by the bed for reading. It wasn’t long until I started having issues at work on the computer and now keep a pair in my desk and also in my purse.
Les thinks I have an addiction to buying glasses now because I have accrued quiet a collection. I think I may own about 6 pair, maybe a few more. Is that really over the top? I think not. If I’m going to have to wear them I’d like to find a trendy pair and sometimes they don’t seem as flattering after I get them home. I haven’t yet splurged on a $20 pair but anytime I go into CVS, Walgreens or Wal-Mart, I can be found in the reading glasses section trying them on hoping to find a cute and stylish pair. I bought some Sarah Palin styled ones the other day.
Dollar General sells them for $5-$8 and they have some really cute ones. As a matter of fact, while out Christmas shopping Les and I stopped there to get some gift bags and both tried on reading glasses. We stood in front of the display case trying them on and comparing styles for a good ten minutes. It was then that I stopped and realized that we really were getting old. We were actually out shopping for reading glasses together. I’m thinking it can only good downhill from here. Next thing you know we’ll be out shopping for Fixodent and Depends.
After much reluctance on my part and Les’ insistence that I try out his glasses for reading, I broke down and gave them a try and they made a difference. I finally accepted the fact that I was indeed getting older and actually needed the dreaded reading glasses. At first it was only necessary at home and I kept a pair by the bed for reading. It wasn’t long until I started having issues at work on the computer and now keep a pair in my desk and also in my purse.
Les thinks I have an addiction to buying glasses now because I have accrued quiet a collection. I think I may own about 6 pair, maybe a few more. Is that really over the top? I think not. If I’m going to have to wear them I’d like to find a trendy pair and sometimes they don’t seem as flattering after I get them home. I haven’t yet splurged on a $20 pair but anytime I go into CVS, Walgreens or Wal-Mart, I can be found in the reading glasses section trying them on hoping to find a cute and stylish pair. I bought some Sarah Palin styled ones the other day.
Dollar General sells them for $5-$8 and they have some really cute ones. As a matter of fact, while out Christmas shopping Les and I stopped there to get some gift bags and both tried on reading glasses. We stood in front of the display case trying them on and comparing styles for a good ten minutes. It was then that I stopped and realized that we really were getting old. We were actually out shopping for reading glasses together. I’m thinking it can only good downhill from here. Next thing you know we’ll be out shopping for Fixodent and Depends.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Potty Training 101
During a recent walk down memory lane Les and I were reminiscing about the woes of potty training Caden. We'd taken much needed advice from many people being this was our first boy. We were told by some people to drop fruit loops into the toilet and to make a game of having him aim for them. It was also suggested to just let him go on a tree if he was outside playing since kids tend to wait until the last second to go and it's often too late. We were told that might help decrease the frequency of accidents during the training process and that he might think it was fun and less scary than being rushed to the toilet in a panic.
The yard thing worked really well at first, especially since the kids spent a lot of time out in the back yard when they were younger. He seemed to be catching on quickly, having fewer accidents and I had less wet laundry to do. However, it took us a while to “re-train” him and to teach him that whipping it out by the tree in the front yard or at the public park wasn’t really what we’d had in mind.
The potty training discussion brought to mind a story I’ve heard many times over the years about what my brother did shortly after he was potty trained, and I’d have to say I would gladly suffer the embarrassment of being the mom of the “tree peeing boy” over the mom of “insert brother’s incident here” any day.
So, as the story goes, my mom was in her late pregnancy with me. Her and my aunt had gone to do some shopping at Sears with my brother in tow, who was three-years-old at the time.
Does anyone remember when Sears had the display bathrooms all set up like real bathrooms way back when? They had real sinks, toilets and bathtubs and they were decorated to look just like a real bathroom. There were usually several of them set up in one section of the store and I remember being fascinated with them as a kid whenever we walked through them.
My mom and aunt were walking along shopping when they realized my brother had stopped and they turned around to look for him only to find him sitting down on one of those toilets with his pants down around his ankles going number two in the middle of Sears. My mom was so mortified and humiliated that just she kept on walking, leaving my poor aunt to go back and get him.
Don’t ask me whether there was toilet paper or if they ever told a store employee about the “clean up on aisle 9” because I don’t know. (Mom, care to fill in any missing details since you were actually there?)
I’m betting they headed straight to the car and got out of there as fast as they could and that some poor employee was not happy when he opened the lid and found that pleasant surprise.
Moral of the story: Boys will go anywhere when the urge hits them so always keep a hat and pair of dark sunglasses handy.
The yard thing worked really well at first, especially since the kids spent a lot of time out in the back yard when they were younger. He seemed to be catching on quickly, having fewer accidents and I had less wet laundry to do. However, it took us a while to “re-train” him and to teach him that whipping it out by the tree in the front yard or at the public park wasn’t really what we’d had in mind.
The potty training discussion brought to mind a story I’ve heard many times over the years about what my brother did shortly after he was potty trained, and I’d have to say I would gladly suffer the embarrassment of being the mom of the “tree peeing boy” over the mom of “insert brother’s incident here” any day.
So, as the story goes, my mom was in her late pregnancy with me. Her and my aunt had gone to do some shopping at Sears with my brother in tow, who was three-years-old at the time.
Does anyone remember when Sears had the display bathrooms all set up like real bathrooms way back when? They had real sinks, toilets and bathtubs and they were decorated to look just like a real bathroom. There were usually several of them set up in one section of the store and I remember being fascinated with them as a kid whenever we walked through them.
My mom and aunt were walking along shopping when they realized my brother had stopped and they turned around to look for him only to find him sitting down on one of those toilets with his pants down around his ankles going number two in the middle of Sears. My mom was so mortified and humiliated that just she kept on walking, leaving my poor aunt to go back and get him.
Don’t ask me whether there was toilet paper or if they ever told a store employee about the “clean up on aisle 9” because I don’t know. (Mom, care to fill in any missing details since you were actually there?)
I’m betting they headed straight to the car and got out of there as fast as they could and that some poor employee was not happy when he opened the lid and found that pleasant surprise.
Moral of the story: Boys will go anywhere when the urge hits them so always keep a hat and pair of dark sunglasses handy.
Sunday, January 04, 2009
Karma
I’m a big believer in karma. I truly believe what comes around goes around and in time, whatever you’re dishing out, whether good or bad, you will get it back at some point down the road. That has often comforted me whenever I’ve been wronged! I know karma will take care of them.
Here’s a small example of karma at work.
A few weeks ago Lauren told me a story about going to Jack-in-the-Box. She had pulled into the drive-thru but there are two entrances feeding into the line. It usually works on the honor system unless you are trying to merge into line next to a jerk who won’t acknowledge that you’ve been waiting, too.
Anyhow, she was waiting for her turn to squeeze in and there was a lady who rolled her window down and motioned for Lauren to go on ahead of her. The lady was actually there first so Lauren rolled her window down and asked her if she was sure it was okay, then thanked her and got in front of her in the line.
When she got to the window she asked the cashier how much the tab was for the lady behind her and she paid for her food and the $7.00 tab for the nice lady behind her and left. That was a simple measure of kindness on Lauren’s part but it was still generous and thoughtful and I’m proud of her for doing it.
Lauren called me last night to tell me a story that happened to her and Boogie last night and I reminded her that it was her karma for the Jack-in-the-Box incident in which she had been generous to someone else.
Lauren and Boogie decided to go eat at a nice restaurant last night while they were in College Station. They had some extra Christmas cash and wanted to splurge so they went to a very restaurant where you sit in front of the cook and possibly share your table with other people. They were seated first and then a couple with a little girl and a man and his daughter joined them at the table. Lauren was next to the two little girls and started talking to them and a conversation began with all of them. One of the men saw Boogie’s ring and asked him about it and that led to a conversation about him going to play ball for Rice next year. Lauren said they were really nice people and they chatted on and off through dinner. When it was time for Lauren and Boogie to pay their ticket one of the men told the waiter to put their meal on his ticket. Of course, Lauren and Boogie tried to stop him and told him that was very nice of him to offer but not necessary, but he absolutely insisted. Boogie later tried to give the kids $20 for ice cream but the dad wouldn’t accept it. They said they just wanted to buy their dinner and thanked them for letting them join them at their table. Lauren was really touched and couldn’t get over complete strangers doing this, especially when they had ordered steak and lobster and their tab was $77! A pretty unexpected and nice surprise for two college kids, huh?
That’s karma, baby!
Here’s a small example of karma at work.
A few weeks ago Lauren told me a story about going to Jack-in-the-Box. She had pulled into the drive-thru but there are two entrances feeding into the line. It usually works on the honor system unless you are trying to merge into line next to a jerk who won’t acknowledge that you’ve been waiting, too.
Anyhow, she was waiting for her turn to squeeze in and there was a lady who rolled her window down and motioned for Lauren to go on ahead of her. The lady was actually there first so Lauren rolled her window down and asked her if she was sure it was okay, then thanked her and got in front of her in the line.
When she got to the window she asked the cashier how much the tab was for the lady behind her and she paid for her food and the $7.00 tab for the nice lady behind her and left. That was a simple measure of kindness on Lauren’s part but it was still generous and thoughtful and I’m proud of her for doing it.
Lauren called me last night to tell me a story that happened to her and Boogie last night and I reminded her that it was her karma for the Jack-in-the-Box incident in which she had been generous to someone else.
Lauren and Boogie decided to go eat at a nice restaurant last night while they were in College Station. They had some extra Christmas cash and wanted to splurge so they went to a very restaurant where you sit in front of the cook and possibly share your table with other people. They were seated first and then a couple with a little girl and a man and his daughter joined them at the table. Lauren was next to the two little girls and started talking to them and a conversation began with all of them. One of the men saw Boogie’s ring and asked him about it and that led to a conversation about him going to play ball for Rice next year. Lauren said they were really nice people and they chatted on and off through dinner. When it was time for Lauren and Boogie to pay their ticket one of the men told the waiter to put their meal on his ticket. Of course, Lauren and Boogie tried to stop him and told him that was very nice of him to offer but not necessary, but he absolutely insisted. Boogie later tried to give the kids $20 for ice cream but the dad wouldn’t accept it. They said they just wanted to buy their dinner and thanked them for letting them join them at their table. Lauren was really touched and couldn’t get over complete strangers doing this, especially when they had ordered steak and lobster and their tab was $77! A pretty unexpected and nice surprise for two college kids, huh?
That’s karma, baby!
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Happy New Year
We partied at my brother's (where firecrackers are legal) and taught the kids some stupid, I mean daring stunts (i.e. see picture of my brother running through the fireworks in his highly flammable Wyatt Earp looking western coat). We ate, played Taboo, laughed, sat around the fire and stayed entertained until, oh, about 6 this morning. Good times!
Happy New Year!
Happy New Year!
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