Most of my life has been wrapped around other peoples' opinions, I
wanted to please my parents, I wanted to please my friends, I wanted to
please my fellow church goers, I wanted to be ACCEPTED!
Of
course, the older we get the more the word "compromise" becomes
important. As we grow, we realize there is no gray area, only black ....
and white. Acceptance to people gives way to God's will. I don't want
to live in that bleak gray area. I want to be shining in His light. I
want my life to reflect the light of the Son in a blazing white light of
glory!
There have been many times I've given way to
compromise. I will negotiate with my husband on this matter ... or that, I
will give in to a later bedtime for Cowboy on a special night. But there
are things I will NOT compromise .......
God is first. What He says, what He tells me to do, and His promises
.... this will always come first. I know if I follow this, all will be
well with me and mine.
There are times, when so many things
come as an onslaught, that we tend to forget our first love, our
priorities. With every problem, every distraction, every worry that is
brought before us, it's easy to loose sight of our first love, our first
commitment. Eventually, our joy will be lost as well. And what is life
without joy? It's toil, it's existence. I don't want to merely
exist, do you? NO! We want to LIVE!
It is our choice to accept
the things that would bring us down and separate us from our first love.
Problems .... sure, we all got them. It's not the lack of troubles that
makes us live, but rather how we LIVE while we are in those troubles. A
tree is known by its fruit. But does not the soil have to work and toil
to get the minerals in which to live? YES! And so must we! We must seek
and search after our God, our source of nourishment, we must choose to
live in the abundance of grace and love that has been provided for us.
It's all a choice.
So choose you this day. Will you succumb to
the wiles of the enemy who would desire to bring you down, discourage
and destroy you? Or will you choose to reach higher, love greater,
forgive 70 times 7, and receive the blessing of the Most High?
I choose life. Not just the breath of an eternal body, but everlasting
life. I choose His life over my own fleshly desires. I choose to live.
So if I seem strange to you, like I don't quite fit in ..... that 's
ok. This ain't high school and I don't care what others think of me. This is eternity. I know where I'll spend it, do you? And guess what, I want don't want to slide in by the skin of my teeth. NO! I want God to look at me and say, "Well Done MY good and faithful servant!" You can call me weird, you
can say I'm an outcast. It's all to His glory for I AM peculiar person
and NOT of this world. I am honored that you perceive me as different,
it means I'm doing something right because I don't blend in! I do not and I WILL not conform to this world.
Stand Tall ye of faith! Give praise to the One who has made you! For He
knows the number of hairs upon your head, how well yet, does He not know
where He leads you? Go forth, without fear. Go forth in faith. Fear
not, for He is with you!
NO compromise.
Friday, November 29, 2013
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Stupid Banana Bread!
Feeling I was doing a service to my hubby, taking his very busy schedule in mind, I told him this afternoon, "I'm getting the winter clothes out this week so I'll be washing A LOT! Just wanted to give you the heads up that we'll probably need an extra load of water this week." He said, "Well BABE, you can haul water too!" A little hurt that my consideration was so rudely thwarted and misunderstood I replied, "Well yes, I can. And YOU can wash dishes and clean the toilet too, can't you?"
Silence called a truce.
For those of you who follow my blog, you understand the water situation. Our well has turned out to be seasonal, after ALL THAT! But the well is not the point of this story.
At times in marriage, there tends to be a ping pong argument of who does what, who does more, who makes more, and who's most important. Now be honest, even if silent and never spoken, the subject comes up .... if you're lucky, without a word!
I spent the day today buying winter clothes for Cowboy, grocery shopping, and running errands. My day got a late start because after he said he was headed out to work, my darling hubby came in 2 hours later to announce, "I've been working outside, kinda hanging around and thought maybe you'd have one of your famous omelets made for me." I said, "Ummm, I thought you left, but if you want breakfast I'll cook it for you if you have time to wait." He said, "I guess I could play around with the backhoe a little while longer before I HAVE to leave."
Breakfast made, kid hog tied, bathed, and dragged out to the vehicle in all his reluctant desire to GO yet one more time ..... I finally headed to town just before noon. By the time I got home it was after 3. Having been sick for a few days, the "mom affect" has been absent from my home, therefore leaving it ...... as is. Clothes, paper plates, and glasses littered evident areas while dust, dirt, and smells seemed to seep in and occupy every crack and the most remote crevices that 3200 square feet can offer. Laundry challenged the ceiling and lets not even get started on the plumes of fume in the restroom! I had survived over a hundred hours of hard labor with 4 strapping boys, years of puking, pooping, and countless sleepless nights, yet as I looked upon what awaited me after the ill timed influenza that marked my 46th year of birth, I felt I simply could not go on! And twas at this time I made my very considerate "heads up" announcement to my darling hubby.
Now MY HUBBY, Winston B. Yates .... or Winnie as I call him .... what can be said? All my life has been spent in blissful servitude to children, family, and others. Winnie however, had only ever lived for himself until I met him and we married and began a family. We had lived two totally different lives up until that point. Needless to say, the sparks are gonna fly! God has a way of complimenting you with what will strengthen your weaknesses.
Hours later (truce called), supper was done, dishes washed, and I set to salving my frayed nerves with some baking. There's nothing like combining a little of this and a bit of that, no matter how odd they may seem, to create something tantalizing and delicious. It looks like muck going in, but oh the aroma of the mingling together! As the oddities blend they create a fine result that draws all those about, doing their own thing, thinking their thoughts, and dwelling in their own justifications ... towards the warmth, glow, and unifying smell of agreement. It draws us ......... together.
At some point during my teaching Cowboy how to bake banana bread, I recognized the low hum of the backhoe and realized Winnie was outside working on the pond. Always, always, in percute of doing better, doing more. As I, in the kitchen, fulfilling that long awaited request of banana bread from hubby, and he outside doing his best to better our life .... I felt the unity then. Though apart, separate, it was there. Each doing their part.
I realized yet again, it's not about who does what that keeps us in the ranks. For without each other, if one stood alone, there would be no ranks at all. It's about giving. When we focus not on what we can get or who's job is most important, but rather what I give, what I can do for another (Yes, HIM, your husband) and how I can bless him, and not focus on "look how much I do," or "I do this so much better, or so much more," then that is when we are truly blessed. If each spouse is MORE focused on the needs of the other, there is no lack for either.
So should I run out of water earlier in the week than usual, I'm committed now to fetch it myself. Not because I want to, I HATE hauling water, not because I'm the bigger person, and really, honestly at this point, not entirely just because I want to help my hubby. It's because now I've been convicted. Now I KNOW (or rather I've been reminded) that it's the right thing to do, to take care of HIS needs before my own. To help before it's needed because I know it will cause distress should I request it of him. I'm accountable now and the only thing to do is what I know is right.
Sometimes I really hate that I think this stuff through, ha!
So let us give, and it shall be given. Without thought, expectation, or want, let us give.
Silence called a truce.
For those of you who follow my blog, you understand the water situation. Our well has turned out to be seasonal, after ALL THAT! But the well is not the point of this story.
At times in marriage, there tends to be a ping pong argument of who does what, who does more, who makes more, and who's most important. Now be honest, even if silent and never spoken, the subject comes up .... if you're lucky, without a word!
I spent the day today buying winter clothes for Cowboy, grocery shopping, and running errands. My day got a late start because after he said he was headed out to work, my darling hubby came in 2 hours later to announce, "I've been working outside, kinda hanging around and thought maybe you'd have one of your famous omelets made for me." I said, "Ummm, I thought you left, but if you want breakfast I'll cook it for you if you have time to wait." He said, "I guess I could play around with the backhoe a little while longer before I HAVE to leave."
Breakfast made, kid hog tied, bathed, and dragged out to the vehicle in all his reluctant desire to GO yet one more time ..... I finally headed to town just before noon. By the time I got home it was after 3. Having been sick for a few days, the "mom affect" has been absent from my home, therefore leaving it ...... as is. Clothes, paper plates, and glasses littered evident areas while dust, dirt, and smells seemed to seep in and occupy every crack and the most remote crevices that 3200 square feet can offer. Laundry challenged the ceiling and lets not even get started on the plumes of fume in the restroom! I had survived over a hundred hours of hard labor with 4 strapping boys, years of puking, pooping, and countless sleepless nights, yet as I looked upon what awaited me after the ill timed influenza that marked my 46th year of birth, I felt I simply could not go on! And twas at this time I made my very considerate "heads up" announcement to my darling hubby.
Now MY HUBBY, Winston B. Yates .... or Winnie as I call him .... what can be said? All my life has been spent in blissful servitude to children, family, and others. Winnie however, had only ever lived for himself until I met him and we married and began a family. We had lived two totally different lives up until that point. Needless to say, the sparks are gonna fly! God has a way of complimenting you with what will strengthen your weaknesses.
Hours later (truce called), supper was done, dishes washed, and I set to salving my frayed nerves with some baking. There's nothing like combining a little of this and a bit of that, no matter how odd they may seem, to create something tantalizing and delicious. It looks like muck going in, but oh the aroma of the mingling together! As the oddities blend they create a fine result that draws all those about, doing their own thing, thinking their thoughts, and dwelling in their own justifications ... towards the warmth, glow, and unifying smell of agreement. It draws us ......... together.
At some point during my teaching Cowboy how to bake banana bread, I recognized the low hum of the backhoe and realized Winnie was outside working on the pond. Always, always, in percute of doing better, doing more. As I, in the kitchen, fulfilling that long awaited request of banana bread from hubby, and he outside doing his best to better our life .... I felt the unity then. Though apart, separate, it was there. Each doing their part.
I realized yet again, it's not about who does what that keeps us in the ranks. For without each other, if one stood alone, there would be no ranks at all. It's about giving. When we focus not on what we can get or who's job is most important, but rather what I give, what I can do for another (Yes, HIM, your husband) and how I can bless him, and not focus on "look how much I do," or "I do this so much better, or so much more," then that is when we are truly blessed. If each spouse is MORE focused on the needs of the other, there is no lack for either.
So should I run out of water earlier in the week than usual, I'm committed now to fetch it myself. Not because I want to, I HATE hauling water, not because I'm the bigger person, and really, honestly at this point, not entirely just because I want to help my hubby. It's because now I've been convicted. Now I KNOW (or rather I've been reminded) that it's the right thing to do, to take care of HIS needs before my own. To help before it's needed because I know it will cause distress should I request it of him. I'm accountable now and the only thing to do is what I know is right.
Sometimes I really hate that I think this stuff through, ha!
So let us give, and it shall be given. Without thought, expectation, or want, let us give.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
It Is What it is!
When I started homeschooling back in the early '90's, the concept wasn't as widely accepted as it is today. If I told people I was homeschooling, they mostly looked at me like I we was an alien and I felt this immediate need to justify my decision.
Everyone who chooses to homeschool has their own reasons. Some for religious views, some for academics, perhaps they have a special needs child or one who excels, others homeschool because their child is problematic. For whatever reason, most people who commit to homeschooling have a conviction and purpose. Those who strive and push through the toughest of times, are convicted right down to their soul, literally.
My personal reasons to homeschool was a mixture of convictions. I wanted to raise my son in a Godly atmosphere, with Godly morals and character, I also knew he was exceptionally smart and I wanted him to be able to reach his potential. It started with just one child, but God had so much more in mind.
I bounced back and forth between public school and homeschooling for 2 years. Any 'seemingly' little problem sent me running. I saw later, they were excuses, not just for my lack of confidence in being able to teach, but also the desire to "fit in' and not have to justify my actions. When I finally came to obedience, I was truly blessed.
That first year was tough, just like for any first timer. Not just the actual schooling and getting into the mentality and rhythm of balancing life, home, and lesson plans, but also on my pride. That need to justify myself resurfaced again and again. And isn't that why we need to justify ourselves, for the sake of pride, in proving that we are right?
After that first committed year, I was hooked. I got into the lesson planning, excited about what we were learning, and most importantly, I enjoyed the time I had with my son, watching him learn was a privilege. I needed no more justification after that. Sure, people would still comment or look at me funny, but by this time, it didn't phase me. I simply didn't care what people thought. I went on to homeschool all 3 of my boys for many years.
Today, having another child late in life, I find myself back where I started as my 3 older boys have turned into young men and make their way in the world. My convictions are not just the same as before, but stronger, deeper. It's a different world today. I look around and see nothing of the seemingly 'simplistic' life of my first 3 children.
I have enjoyed the acceptance that homeschooling has in today's society (relatively speaking). I almost got down right comfortable with it. But I had a reminder the other day, that there are still severe critics out there, critics of free thinkers and individuality, people who are content to go with the flow, despite where it takes them.
Let me interject here, that I don't think every parent is called to homeschool. For most, it's simply not an option. Economically speaking, most households require 2 incomes, and ours would surely do much better with 2! I've been in the place where I had to put my boys in public school because I had to work. I truly believe some are called to homeschool and some are not. There's no judgement or criticism for those who don't.
A retired military person said to me the other day, "Homeschoolers do the absolute worst at our training camps for kids (military summer camps). Of all the kids, they have the hardest time with someone getting in their face and screaming at them." I said, "Well, I admit, no one in our house is even a 'yeller' let alone a screamer. Sam has never been screamed at in his life. With the proper discipline, mostly with the parents, a person doesn't need to scream to be heard or obeyed. I know I don't like to be screamed at by my husband, do you like your husband to scream at you?" She looked at me kind of funny and said, "Well no, it pisses me off ."
WELL, DUH!
The fact is, anything that goes against main stream society is going to be frowned upon by most. In general, people are usually too polite to say what they really think. In the '50's and '60's, women who worked outside of the home were considered rebellious in some way, today if women stay home, it's considered lazy.
You can tell me my kid isn't getting the socialization he needs, and I say, "Look at our society." You can claim he's sheltered and fragile and I say, "He earns his own money and will stand up for what is right in the face of adversity." You can persist that his education is lacking academically and I say, "Check out his level of learning and test scores."
For me, there is no more justifying and and proving myself. It is what it is, you don't have to like it, agree with it, or support it. I don't care. The question is, why do THEY care so much, to prove me wrong?
Everyone who chooses to homeschool has their own reasons. Some for religious views, some for academics, perhaps they have a special needs child or one who excels, others homeschool because their child is problematic. For whatever reason, most people who commit to homeschooling have a conviction and purpose. Those who strive and push through the toughest of times, are convicted right down to their soul, literally.
My personal reasons to homeschool was a mixture of convictions. I wanted to raise my son in a Godly atmosphere, with Godly morals and character, I also knew he was exceptionally smart and I wanted him to be able to reach his potential. It started with just one child, but God had so much more in mind.
I bounced back and forth between public school and homeschooling for 2 years. Any 'seemingly' little problem sent me running. I saw later, they were excuses, not just for my lack of confidence in being able to teach, but also the desire to "fit in' and not have to justify my actions. When I finally came to obedience, I was truly blessed.
That first year was tough, just like for any first timer. Not just the actual schooling and getting into the mentality and rhythm of balancing life, home, and lesson plans, but also on my pride. That need to justify myself resurfaced again and again. And isn't that why we need to justify ourselves, for the sake of pride, in proving that we are right?
After that first committed year, I was hooked. I got into the lesson planning, excited about what we were learning, and most importantly, I enjoyed the time I had with my son, watching him learn was a privilege. I needed no more justification after that. Sure, people would still comment or look at me funny, but by this time, it didn't phase me. I simply didn't care what people thought. I went on to homeschool all 3 of my boys for many years.
Today, having another child late in life, I find myself back where I started as my 3 older boys have turned into young men and make their way in the world. My convictions are not just the same as before, but stronger, deeper. It's a different world today. I look around and see nothing of the seemingly 'simplistic' life of my first 3 children.
I have enjoyed the acceptance that homeschooling has in today's society (relatively speaking). I almost got down right comfortable with it. But I had a reminder the other day, that there are still severe critics out there, critics of free thinkers and individuality, people who are content to go with the flow, despite where it takes them.
Let me interject here, that I don't think every parent is called to homeschool. For most, it's simply not an option. Economically speaking, most households require 2 incomes, and ours would surely do much better with 2! I've been in the place where I had to put my boys in public school because I had to work. I truly believe some are called to homeschool and some are not. There's no judgement or criticism for those who don't.
A retired military person said to me the other day, "Homeschoolers do the absolute worst at our training camps for kids (military summer camps). Of all the kids, they have the hardest time with someone getting in their face and screaming at them." I said, "Well, I admit, no one in our house is even a 'yeller' let alone a screamer. Sam has never been screamed at in his life. With the proper discipline, mostly with the parents, a person doesn't need to scream to be heard or obeyed. I know I don't like to be screamed at by my husband, do you like your husband to scream at you?" She looked at me kind of funny and said, "Well no, it pisses me off ."
WELL, DUH!
The fact is, anything that goes against main stream society is going to be frowned upon by most. In general, people are usually too polite to say what they really think. In the '50's and '60's, women who worked outside of the home were considered rebellious in some way, today if women stay home, it's considered lazy.
You can tell me my kid isn't getting the socialization he needs, and I say, "Look at our society." You can claim he's sheltered and fragile and I say, "He earns his own money and will stand up for what is right in the face of adversity." You can persist that his education is lacking academically and I say, "Check out his level of learning and test scores."
For me, there is no more justifying and and proving myself. It is what it is, you don't have to like it, agree with it, or support it. I don't care. The question is, why do THEY care so much, to prove me wrong?
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Friday, June 7, 2013
Sunday, May 19, 2013
In Memory of My First Love, Toush
There is nothing quite so sweet and innocent as the little kisses from a puppy. Living out here in woods, and having the fortune or MISfortune, of 2 un-spade female dogs, we've easily had 50+ puppies grace us with their presence. Out of all the pups, there's not been a single one I was not able to give up. I have mastered the art of detachment. I've become responsible and sensible, knowing my limitations. That is, until now .................
When I was 10 years old, I got my first job ..... a paper route I inherited from my brother, who was moving on to bigger and better things, being a whole year older than I. I held this job of delivering The Rockport Pilot, for several years, until I was opted out for an easier, cheaper means of delivering the local paper in our little town, the USPS.
The highlight of my route was the last delivery on my customer list. Set a block off Fulton Beach Road, was a blue beach house on stilts, and at this house (I fail to recall the human's name, although they were very kind and wonderful people), lived a German Shepherd Dog named Toush. Twice a week I stopped to play with Toush, tossing a Frisbee, tennis ball, stick ... it didn't matter, he would catch it. And he loved to play! I found myself using part of my paper route money to bring him treats, and riding my bike over to see him even when I wasn't delivering papers. The highlight of my route, of my week, was being able to spend time playing with Toush.
10 years later, I'd grown up, I was married and had a little boy. I was working a Demo job in a little grocery store in Fulton when I happened to see Mrs. Toush in the store. I asked about him. With tears in her eyes she told me Toush had recently passed away. I cried, right there with her in the store. I was heart broken. A German Shepherd was all I had ever wanted from the day I met Toush. He was the most awesome dog, the kindest and most understanding companion I had ever known. I vowed one day, I would have me a German Shepherd.
20 years later, Winnie was deployed in Iraq and I was alone in Arkansas with Cowboy (Sam). While living at our rental house in town, a German Shepherd wandered in off the street. He was thin, I could tell he had been lost for some time, but he was beautiful! I remembered Toush. I remembered how much I had wanted such a fine dog for as long as I could recall. I temporarily named his Gus, after Gus in Lonesome Dove, my favorite movie.
I couldn't, in good conscience, keep this gorgeous canine. I had to attempt to find his owner who was undoubtedly looking for him. I called the animal shelter to report that I had him, and though no one had reported a missing GSD, they took my information just in case. I put an ad in the local paper, hoping all the time, no one would answer it. No one did. Nor did the animal shelter call. One last effort to salve my conscience, was to call in to the radio show that played every week day morning, that was of ads and offers of things wanted and for sale. I vowed I would only do this one time. I would call in, report I had found a missing GSD, and that was it, I wasn't going to do it everyday! If no one answered the call claiming him, I was keeping Gus! One call was all it took. The owners came to claim "Gus" that afternoon. I was so sad and disappointed. I knew I had done the right thing, seeing how happy Gus was to see them ..... but still, I had wanted to keep him so badly.
A short 6 months later, I was finally able to obtain my dream. I dished out the $250 and proudly took home my AKC Registered GSD! The first night, she was so afraid, I sat with her in my lap all night, outside in the carport. She wouldn't eat, she wouldn't drink. She didn't trust me. After that first night however, she was mine forever, and loyal to me and me alone. Until I introduced her to Sam. Maia was indeed, Sam's first playmate, other than myself. They roamed the yard together, they fought together, and at times, they slept together.
I remember when Maia was younger, we lived in town and boy did she love balls! Sam was playing tee-ball at the time and I had made him a 'T' to practice on in the yard. He would set his baseball there and go to swing in the clumsy way a 3-4 year old does, and by the time he was set to hit the ball ....... it was gone! Maia had taken off with it! He would get so mad at her, to the point of tears of frustration. But the end of the day would see us 3 sharing popsicles on the front porch. Maia always sitting pretty in order to get her fair share. Despite their differences, Sam was Maia's pup. She knew it was her job to take care for him, and in her younger years, she occasionally attempted to chew on him, haha. Normally, she would follow him around the yard, but sometimes Sam would just exhaust her and she'd end up sitting with me on the porch while he ran and ran. On these occasions I could tell her, "Get Sam." and off she would go to locate him.
Maia was the first dog to roam this property we're currently on. It was hers from the start. The drive out to the property before we moved here was long and treacherous in the back of my Jeep Liberty, as she would get car sick every time. We camped here often, and she loved to swim in the creek and explore the property at the young age of 1 year old. This was HER land. She knew every inch of it. But never would she stray too far, to not be back in time to stand guard outside the door of our tent as we slept. In the wild woods of Holly Mountain, despite her desire to explore and wander, she lay in front of the tent where her pup slept, she never once failed me ..... or Sam. When Sam swam at the creek, she would swim with him, and when she tired of swimming, she took her place right beside me on a flat rock that over looked the swim hole, to keep watch .... or sleep. Either way, she let me know, she was there if I needed her.
But don't think for one second, I didn't spoil my baby girl. I spent time with her everyday. I worked with her, trained her, she used to lay in my lap just like that first night she came home with me, and fall asleep. Being new to cold winters, I was worried about her getting too cold at night. I would put her "blankie" in the dryer, warm it up, and snuggle her down for the night in the wash room. She became quite spoiled to having her warm blankie. Even today, if you ask her if she wants a blankie, she will get all excited and do a dance, just as she did back then.
Happy was the day when I got a truck! Maia took to it like she took to the mountain! Never once did she jump out and run off as we rode through town, stopped at the store, or went through a drive thru. Nose in the air, sniffing and drinking in every smell, sight, and sound. She LOVED going bye bye in the truck! And good for me because there was no more doggie puke to clean up! She especially loved going to McDonald's because she knew there would be a $1 breakfast burrito or hamburger to reward her patience.
It's been some 5 years now since I've had my beloved German Shepherd. She's given up catching balls and sticks, for jumping high in the air to catch either dog food or small pebbles. Having lived out here on the mountain has changed her, mostly for the good, but some is not so good. She now shares affection, time, attention, and food (but NOT her blankie, she refuses!) with our 2 other dogs, Heelers Bear and Cody. I see her aging quickly.
I never wanted any other dogs other than my Maia. I thoroughly love and value Bear and Cody. They are members of the family, just as Maia is. But it was never my intention to make my Maia share anything. Having the instinct of the Dingoes, and being subservient to Maia, the Heelers have taken on much of the work and responsibility I had intended for Maia out here in the woods with Sam. I have come to view my Blue Heeler (Australian Cattle Dog) as more valuable in the way of protection. Perhaps it's because he's male, perhaps it's his breed, but where I know Maia would protect Sam and I, I have SEEN it in Bear. It has not, however, lessened the love I have for my beloved German Shepherd.
Recently Maia had a litter. As usual, these are half breeds with Bear. Smart, beautiful dogs as always. But one .... one stuck out. He had a single white tip at the end of his tail. At 2 weeks old, 2 WEEKS, he would bark fearlessly at what his mama barked at, before his eyes were even open. I noticed, but I refused to touch, cuddle, or comment. They would be given away. Period.
As the weeks wore on, I noticed how my Maia looked so tired. Being on patrol, Sam duty, chasing and catching critters of all sizes, and having 4 litters of pups, has drained my baby girl. This is not the life I wanted for my beautiful GSD. I've been spending more time combing her, talking to her, just letting her lay her front legs on my lap, as now, that's all that fits. She can no longer snuggle neatly in the folds of my legs. And still .... there's this one little pup ..... as he grows, he dominates. He fearlessly follows Mom where ever she goes, he eats from the bowl first, he wins every scrap with his siblings, he gets first pickings off the nasty armadillos Maia kills ........ and he looks just like his Mama. I dismiss it. At least, I try to.
Yesterday as I walked across the yard, as usual, all the pups crowded my legs, making it difficult to make a step. After much chewing and nipping I finally decided enough was enough. I sat on the ground and as they bit and clawed at me, I firmly tapped each pup on the nose with my finger and said, "No." Several times with each pup I did this. A few lost interest and left after a few minutes, but I noticed, one pup, with a white tip on his tail, nuzzled my hand instead of biting. I dismissed it. Later that day I was sitting outside and was again, attacked by puppies, nipping and biting. I held up my finger and firmly said, "No." One pup, nuzzled against my hand.This one pup, sought my hand, but did not bite. This one pup, that looks just like his mama.
Today, as I sat outside, I looked for this one pup. All the puppies came to nip and wrestle, but he waited on the way side, until they were done. Then and only then, he came up to me. He licked my hand, he exuded "Pet me, love me." I did. This one pup is temporarily named Tippy, for the single white tip at the end of of long tail. When we went to the creek today, I opened the tailgate of the truck to allow the dogs to hop in. They know where we're going. Maia was first and Tippy sat on the ground barking and barking, wanting to tag along. Although we had never taken such a young puppy to the creek, Sam pleaded Tippy's case and won. He held him in the back of the truck, but after a minute or two, Tippy was wrestling to be free. He confidently rode, with no crying or running to Maia.
At the creek it was a different story. It's a cold and scary place for such a little darling. At first, he followed Maia without complaint, down the hill to the creek and through the cold water. When Maia raced up the other side of the mountain however, he started to cry. His little legs couldn't make the jump to follow after. I called him over and without hesitation, he came to me. He climbed up and sat on the flat rock next to me. He leaned his body into me and whined a little, watching his mama do what he couldn't do. But he was alert and on guard. After a few minutes, I told him, "Go. Go with Mama. Quit your whining and find your way up." Danged if he didn't hop down from that rock and find a way to get to Maia. He followed her all over the mountain. After the big dogs explored and swam with Sam, Maia took her usual place beside me on the flat rock, while Tippy lay on the other side, snuggled up against me, and fell asleep.
Never before have I seriously considered keeping a pup. I have 3 dogs, I don't need a 4th. But this little puppy is his mama's son. Spitting image, smart, ready to obey and please, and as fearless as his 7 weeks allows him to be. It may be sentiment, it may be a fear that I won't have my Maia forever, it may be that I'm just a sucker ..... but whatever it is, I think I've fallen in love all over again. I do believe the newest member of the family will serve us as well as we serve him.
I have named him Toush.
When I was 10 years old, I got my first job ..... a paper route I inherited from my brother, who was moving on to bigger and better things, being a whole year older than I. I held this job of delivering The Rockport Pilot, for several years, until I was opted out for an easier, cheaper means of delivering the local paper in our little town, the USPS.
The highlight of my route was the last delivery on my customer list. Set a block off Fulton Beach Road, was a blue beach house on stilts, and at this house (I fail to recall the human's name, although they were very kind and wonderful people), lived a German Shepherd Dog named Toush. Twice a week I stopped to play with Toush, tossing a Frisbee, tennis ball, stick ... it didn't matter, he would catch it. And he loved to play! I found myself using part of my paper route money to bring him treats, and riding my bike over to see him even when I wasn't delivering papers. The highlight of my route, of my week, was being able to spend time playing with Toush.
10 years later, I'd grown up, I was married and had a little boy. I was working a Demo job in a little grocery store in Fulton when I happened to see Mrs. Toush in the store. I asked about him. With tears in her eyes she told me Toush had recently passed away. I cried, right there with her in the store. I was heart broken. A German Shepherd was all I had ever wanted from the day I met Toush. He was the most awesome dog, the kindest and most understanding companion I had ever known. I vowed one day, I would have me a German Shepherd.
20 years later, Winnie was deployed in Iraq and I was alone in Arkansas with Cowboy (Sam). While living at our rental house in town, a German Shepherd wandered in off the street. He was thin, I could tell he had been lost for some time, but he was beautiful! I remembered Toush. I remembered how much I had wanted such a fine dog for as long as I could recall. I temporarily named his Gus, after Gus in Lonesome Dove, my favorite movie.
I couldn't, in good conscience, keep this gorgeous canine. I had to attempt to find his owner who was undoubtedly looking for him. I called the animal shelter to report that I had him, and though no one had reported a missing GSD, they took my information just in case. I put an ad in the local paper, hoping all the time, no one would answer it. No one did. Nor did the animal shelter call. One last effort to salve my conscience, was to call in to the radio show that played every week day morning, that was of ads and offers of things wanted and for sale. I vowed I would only do this one time. I would call in, report I had found a missing GSD, and that was it, I wasn't going to do it everyday! If no one answered the call claiming him, I was keeping Gus! One call was all it took. The owners came to claim "Gus" that afternoon. I was so sad and disappointed. I knew I had done the right thing, seeing how happy Gus was to see them ..... but still, I had wanted to keep him so badly.
A short 6 months later, I was finally able to obtain my dream. I dished out the $250 and proudly took home my AKC Registered GSD! The first night, she was so afraid, I sat with her in my lap all night, outside in the carport. She wouldn't eat, she wouldn't drink. She didn't trust me. After that first night however, she was mine forever, and loyal to me and me alone. Until I introduced her to Sam. Maia was indeed, Sam's first playmate, other than myself. They roamed the yard together, they fought together, and at times, they slept together.
I remember when Maia was younger, we lived in town and boy did she love balls! Sam was playing tee-ball at the time and I had made him a 'T' to practice on in the yard. He would set his baseball there and go to swing in the clumsy way a 3-4 year old does, and by the time he was set to hit the ball ....... it was gone! Maia had taken off with it! He would get so mad at her, to the point of tears of frustration. But the end of the day would see us 3 sharing popsicles on the front porch. Maia always sitting pretty in order to get her fair share. Despite their differences, Sam was Maia's pup. She knew it was her job to take care for him, and in her younger years, she occasionally attempted to chew on him, haha. Normally, she would follow him around the yard, but sometimes Sam would just exhaust her and she'd end up sitting with me on the porch while he ran and ran. On these occasions I could tell her, "Get Sam." and off she would go to locate him.
Maia was the first dog to roam this property we're currently on. It was hers from the start. The drive out to the property before we moved here was long and treacherous in the back of my Jeep Liberty, as she would get car sick every time. We camped here often, and she loved to swim in the creek and explore the property at the young age of 1 year old. This was HER land. She knew every inch of it. But never would she stray too far, to not be back in time to stand guard outside the door of our tent as we slept. In the wild woods of Holly Mountain, despite her desire to explore and wander, she lay in front of the tent where her pup slept, she never once failed me ..... or Sam. When Sam swam at the creek, she would swim with him, and when she tired of swimming, she took her place right beside me on a flat rock that over looked the swim hole, to keep watch .... or sleep. Either way, she let me know, she was there if I needed her.
But don't think for one second, I didn't spoil my baby girl. I spent time with her everyday. I worked with her, trained her, she used to lay in my lap just like that first night she came home with me, and fall asleep. Being new to cold winters, I was worried about her getting too cold at night. I would put her "blankie" in the dryer, warm it up, and snuggle her down for the night in the wash room. She became quite spoiled to having her warm blankie. Even today, if you ask her if she wants a blankie, she will get all excited and do a dance, just as she did back then.
Happy was the day when I got a truck! Maia took to it like she took to the mountain! Never once did she jump out and run off as we rode through town, stopped at the store, or went through a drive thru. Nose in the air, sniffing and drinking in every smell, sight, and sound. She LOVED going bye bye in the truck! And good for me because there was no more doggie puke to clean up! She especially loved going to McDonald's because she knew there would be a $1 breakfast burrito or hamburger to reward her patience.
It's been some 5 years now since I've had my beloved German Shepherd. She's given up catching balls and sticks, for jumping high in the air to catch either dog food or small pebbles. Having lived out here on the mountain has changed her, mostly for the good, but some is not so good. She now shares affection, time, attention, and food (but NOT her blankie, she refuses!) with our 2 other dogs, Heelers Bear and Cody. I see her aging quickly.
I never wanted any other dogs other than my Maia. I thoroughly love and value Bear and Cody. They are members of the family, just as Maia is. But it was never my intention to make my Maia share anything. Having the instinct of the Dingoes, and being subservient to Maia, the Heelers have taken on much of the work and responsibility I had intended for Maia out here in the woods with Sam. I have come to view my Blue Heeler (Australian Cattle Dog) as more valuable in the way of protection. Perhaps it's because he's male, perhaps it's his breed, but where I know Maia would protect Sam and I, I have SEEN it in Bear. It has not, however, lessened the love I have for my beloved German Shepherd.
Recently Maia had a litter. As usual, these are half breeds with Bear. Smart, beautiful dogs as always. But one .... one stuck out. He had a single white tip at the end of his tail. At 2 weeks old, 2 WEEKS, he would bark fearlessly at what his mama barked at, before his eyes were even open. I noticed, but I refused to touch, cuddle, or comment. They would be given away. Period.
As the weeks wore on, I noticed how my Maia looked so tired. Being on patrol, Sam duty, chasing and catching critters of all sizes, and having 4 litters of pups, has drained my baby girl. This is not the life I wanted for my beautiful GSD. I've been spending more time combing her, talking to her, just letting her lay her front legs on my lap, as now, that's all that fits. She can no longer snuggle neatly in the folds of my legs. And still .... there's this one little pup ..... as he grows, he dominates. He fearlessly follows Mom where ever she goes, he eats from the bowl first, he wins every scrap with his siblings, he gets first pickings off the nasty armadillos Maia kills ........ and he looks just like his Mama. I dismiss it. At least, I try to.
Yesterday as I walked across the yard, as usual, all the pups crowded my legs, making it difficult to make a step. After much chewing and nipping I finally decided enough was enough. I sat on the ground and as they bit and clawed at me, I firmly tapped each pup on the nose with my finger and said, "No." Several times with each pup I did this. A few lost interest and left after a few minutes, but I noticed, one pup, with a white tip on his tail, nuzzled my hand instead of biting. I dismissed it. Later that day I was sitting outside and was again, attacked by puppies, nipping and biting. I held up my finger and firmly said, "No." One pup, nuzzled against my hand.This one pup, sought my hand, but did not bite. This one pup, that looks just like his mama.
Today, as I sat outside, I looked for this one pup. All the puppies came to nip and wrestle, but he waited on the way side, until they were done. Then and only then, he came up to me. He licked my hand, he exuded "Pet me, love me." I did. This one pup is temporarily named Tippy, for the single white tip at the end of of long tail. When we went to the creek today, I opened the tailgate of the truck to allow the dogs to hop in. They know where we're going. Maia was first and Tippy sat on the ground barking and barking, wanting to tag along. Although we had never taken such a young puppy to the creek, Sam pleaded Tippy's case and won. He held him in the back of the truck, but after a minute or two, Tippy was wrestling to be free. He confidently rode, with no crying or running to Maia.
At the creek it was a different story. It's a cold and scary place for such a little darling. At first, he followed Maia without complaint, down the hill to the creek and through the cold water. When Maia raced up the other side of the mountain however, he started to cry. His little legs couldn't make the jump to follow after. I called him over and without hesitation, he came to me. He climbed up and sat on the flat rock next to me. He leaned his body into me and whined a little, watching his mama do what he couldn't do. But he was alert and on guard. After a few minutes, I told him, "Go. Go with Mama. Quit your whining and find your way up." Danged if he didn't hop down from that rock and find a way to get to Maia. He followed her all over the mountain. After the big dogs explored and swam with Sam, Maia took her usual place beside me on the flat rock, while Tippy lay on the other side, snuggled up against me, and fell asleep.
Never before have I seriously considered keeping a pup. I have 3 dogs, I don't need a 4th. But this little puppy is his mama's son. Spitting image, smart, ready to obey and please, and as fearless as his 7 weeks allows him to be. It may be sentiment, it may be a fear that I won't have my Maia forever, it may be that I'm just a sucker ..... but whatever it is, I think I've fallen in love all over again. I do believe the newest member of the family will serve us as well as we serve him.
I have named him Toush.
Friday, May 17, 2013
Your Dandelions are Numbered, Use with Care
When I left the house just before noon today, for lunch with hubby and maybe a trip to the library, on the way out I grabbed a button up shirt to throw on with my jeans and t shirt because it was a little chilly (to me).
After lunch Cowboy and I headed to the dollar store for a pair of floaties because one of his had sustained a blow out a few days before. Before I set for home, a moment of insanity struck me. I asked Cowboy, "Is there anything you want to do while we're in town?" As the words spontaneously tumbled from my mouth I was struck with a sense of half horror, half surprise. What was I thinking? Am I crazy? Trying to keep pace with Cowboy is like trying to catch a race horse on foot! But it was already out there. I done said it. "The park, the park!" he said. Off we go, to the park.
I'm determined to have a good time with my boy, but as we drove to the park, the clouds had given way to a blazing hot 1:00 sun, and all I'm thinking is .... "the library has air conditioning." We pulled into the parking lot and both of us realized the same thing at the same time ...... it was deserted. Not a single car or person in sight. I couldn't help but to think it was because sane people don't come to the park after a heavy lunch in the heat of the day, ha. But Cowboy's cricket imitation (it was so quiet all we could hear were crickets) jostled me out of my negativity and made me laugh.
With no other children to play with, well ....... what is a Mama to do? We started out on the swings and our toes touched the tops of the trees time and again, as we played 'I Spy With My Little Eye.' On the kiddy merry go round with the horses, we raced as fast as we could in the Kentucky Derby, winning by a nose .... while the big kid merry go round swept us into outer space where we conquered evil aliens! A trip to the water fountain proved to be fatal as it produced poison that sparked a dramatic and horrible fit of spasms and sadly, finally .... mock death. So tragic!
Having quickly and miraculously recovered from the treacherous waters, we played butt bumpers on the see-saw, drove the school bus through a war zone, where I was ultimately blown to bits, and ended up sitting on the play tractor for a breather. As I sat there, I remembered how this very tractor used to be Cowboy's most favorite thing in the park. I remembered our first trip to this park, he could barely walk. He wasn't big enough to reach anything, or for the swings, to climb on the jungle gym, or go down the slide all alone. It seems like yesterday. I was shaken from my bittersweet memories when Cowboy tumbled off the top of the tractor. As I rushed to see if he was ok, I'm asking, "Where does it hurt, what got hit?" He's hopping around, and in a laugh/cry he's trying to say something ......... "Just ... just ..... AVENGE ME!" Hahahaha! He's so good natured :)
By now the sun is really hot, at least in jeans, boots, and 2 shirts. I'm shucking off my long sleeve, and I'm about ready to head home when Cowboy says, "Hey, lets walk around the track!" Seriously?! The track is a mile long! (I think) "OK! let's go!" I said. Off we go.
As we passed under the overpass, for the first time ever, I let him climb the slope high enough so he could touch the underneath of the road. He was thrilled! We stopped at the Outdoor Classroom, read the signs about all the plants, looked at the goldfish and cooled off for a bit. Our trip didn't just take us around the track along the river, we also explored every baseball field, played imaginary baseball, laughed, talked, and shared about anything and everything. We did our part in repopulating dandelion seeds by making lots and lots of wishes blown to the wind.
On the home stretch of the track, Cowboy asked me what I had wished for. I said, I wished that we would always have fun together and that you're never too far away. He stopped, picked a dandelion and a few flowers, handed me the dandelion and said, "You have to wish again." I asked him why? He said, "Because you don't have to wish for that wish, it's already true." Aaaahhhhh! What a little sweetie! That would melt any Mama's heart! After I made my other wish, he handed me the flowers he picked and said, "That's for being the bestest Mommy ever!" We stopped back by the Outdoor Classroom where Cowboy tossed his shoes aside, soaked his feet in the pond and tried to get the goldfish to nibble on his toes .... while I sagged on the bench, praying for enough strength to make it back to the truck.
As we walked back towards the park, I'll be honest, I felt a little guilty that I had started out on this adventure with a negative attitude. We had had such a great time together, doing nothing, but doing everything. I can see the truck in view now and just as I'm about to let my mind wander back to the real world of adult issues, Cowboy says, "Oh Mama, let's go play at the park again, ok? Just for a few minutes?"
Well ........ what would you have done?
After lunch Cowboy and I headed to the dollar store for a pair of floaties because one of his had sustained a blow out a few days before. Before I set for home, a moment of insanity struck me. I asked Cowboy, "Is there anything you want to do while we're in town?" As the words spontaneously tumbled from my mouth I was struck with a sense of half horror, half surprise. What was I thinking? Am I crazy? Trying to keep pace with Cowboy is like trying to catch a race horse on foot! But it was already out there. I done said it. "The park, the park!" he said. Off we go, to the park.
I'm determined to have a good time with my boy, but as we drove to the park, the clouds had given way to a blazing hot 1:00 sun, and all I'm thinking is .... "the library has air conditioning." We pulled into the parking lot and both of us realized the same thing at the same time ...... it was deserted. Not a single car or person in sight. I couldn't help but to think it was because sane people don't come to the park after a heavy lunch in the heat of the day, ha. But Cowboy's cricket imitation (it was so quiet all we could hear were crickets) jostled me out of my negativity and made me laugh.
With no other children to play with, well ....... what is a Mama to do? We started out on the swings and our toes touched the tops of the trees time and again, as we played 'I Spy With My Little Eye.' On the kiddy merry go round with the horses, we raced as fast as we could in the Kentucky Derby, winning by a nose .... while the big kid merry go round swept us into outer space where we conquered evil aliens! A trip to the water fountain proved to be fatal as it produced poison that sparked a dramatic and horrible fit of spasms and sadly, finally .... mock death. So tragic!
Having quickly and miraculously recovered from the treacherous waters, we played butt bumpers on the see-saw, drove the school bus through a war zone, where I was ultimately blown to bits, and ended up sitting on the play tractor for a breather. As I sat there, I remembered how this very tractor used to be Cowboy's most favorite thing in the park. I remembered our first trip to this park, he could barely walk. He wasn't big enough to reach anything, or for the swings, to climb on the jungle gym, or go down the slide all alone. It seems like yesterday. I was shaken from my bittersweet memories when Cowboy tumbled off the top of the tractor. As I rushed to see if he was ok, I'm asking, "Where does it hurt, what got hit?" He's hopping around, and in a laugh/cry he's trying to say something ......... "Just ... just ..... AVENGE ME!" Hahahaha! He's so good natured :)
By now the sun is really hot, at least in jeans, boots, and 2 shirts. I'm shucking off my long sleeve, and I'm about ready to head home when Cowboy says, "Hey, lets walk around the track!" Seriously?! The track is a mile long! (I think) "OK! let's go!" I said. Off we go.
As we passed under the overpass, for the first time ever, I let him climb the slope high enough so he could touch the underneath of the road. He was thrilled! We stopped at the Outdoor Classroom, read the signs about all the plants, looked at the goldfish and cooled off for a bit. Our trip didn't just take us around the track along the river, we also explored every baseball field, played imaginary baseball, laughed, talked, and shared about anything and everything. We did our part in repopulating dandelion seeds by making lots and lots of wishes blown to the wind.
On the home stretch of the track, Cowboy asked me what I had wished for. I said, I wished that we would always have fun together and that you're never too far away. He stopped, picked a dandelion and a few flowers, handed me the dandelion and said, "You have to wish again." I asked him why? He said, "Because you don't have to wish for that wish, it's already true." Aaaahhhhh! What a little sweetie! That would melt any Mama's heart! After I made my other wish, he handed me the flowers he picked and said, "That's for being the bestest Mommy ever!" We stopped back by the Outdoor Classroom where Cowboy tossed his shoes aside, soaked his feet in the pond and tried to get the goldfish to nibble on his toes .... while I sagged on the bench, praying for enough strength to make it back to the truck.
As we walked back towards the park, I'll be honest, I felt a little guilty that I had started out on this adventure with a negative attitude. We had had such a great time together, doing nothing, but doing everything. I can see the truck in view now and just as I'm about to let my mind wander back to the real world of adult issues, Cowboy says, "Oh Mama, let's go play at the park again, ok? Just for a few minutes?"
Well ........ what would you have done?
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