Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Quotes, thoughts and miscellany to make you think and imagine...
Many flowers only bloom once a year, perhaps for a short time, then are silent. If you were given one week each year to really shine, what would you choose to do in that week?
Monday, March 23, 2015
Oy! Read an article today titled, "Tip of the Day: Dogs Don't Like Hugs and Kisses (What?!)." While this article might have started out with the good intention to prevent children from being bitten by dogs, there are some flat out wrong statements. Here are three:
(1) "One of the most important things you can teach your children is that dogs don't like hugs and kisses." WRONG!
(2) "To a child, the family dog is just an animated stuffed animal." NO! I taught my children and grandchildren from the start that an animal is a very precious being--not a toy--and they know this.
(3) "There is no dog that loves hugs from kids anytime, anywhere, anyhow." AGAIN, JUST WRONG!
All my dogs have different personalities. However, they are very loving to family members. More importantly, my kids and grandkids have been taught from the time they were babies that our pets are very precious beings--not toys--and are to be treated with respect. Wait for the dog to make the first move, which is usually as soon as they hear a family member's car pull up. They are excited. They are kissing the family members. They are sitting on laps and demanding their share of attention.
In return, my kids and grandkids know appropriate affection, with both dogs and people, such as it's not appropriate to put a choke-hold on anyone. They also know the warning signs when a dog has had enough. Like me, they also communicate with dogs. So we're not listening to "experts" or just watching canine body language, we are actually communicating with the dogs themselves and what they want.
Please, please, please don't teach children to fear dogs. Instead, teach them to respect pets.
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Saturday, March 14, 2015
He started out like any normal puppy. Soft and cuddly, with a black velvet muzzle and ears. The size of his feet promised a good sized dog, but we had no idea what that really meant.
He quickly learned to sit and usually took treats without demonstrating the sharpness of his puppy teeth against fingers. House training progressed nicely. He learned to go out in the backyard to do his bathroom business of "poo-ing" and "pee-ing."
That's also where he encountered the Nosy Neighbor Who Hated Dogs.
Little Poo didn't understand why this strange person was peering through a knothole while he did his business. After all, even dogs like a little privacy. Poo growled a warning and moved behind the shed to finish his business.
By that time, I had chased off the Nosy Neighbor--again--and covered up the knothole. So Poo turned his attention to one of his other loves: harvesting vegetables.
This little guy wiggled his way into our backyard garden to nibble on beans and tomatoes and cucumbers. But his favorite was eggplant. The ones in containers on the patio were especially easy for him to pick. After he made a selection, he retreated to a sunny spot on the patio to devour his prize.
As Poo grew larger, so did his appetite for eggplant and his dislike for the Nosy Neighbor. He now patrolled the back fence, barking fiercely when the Nosy Neighbor stared through any crack he could find or create. When I chased off the offender, Poo retreated to the patio to eat his eggplant.
One day, Poo didn't come in as normal when I called him for dinner, so I started searching. He lay in his usual sunny spot on the backyard patio, surrounded by the remains of several eggplants.
He groaned as I patted his bloated tummy, which was turning as purple as the eggplants he had eaten. Then he started growing. Bigger and bigger. The shock in his eyes mirrored mine as I urged him off the patio before his head bumped against the wooden lattice across the top that provided criss-crossed shade.
He continued to grow--bigger and bigger. Now as tall as the second story window of our house. I had no idea what to do.
Poo stood up on shaky legs; his back feet nudging the fence behind our house.
Then it happened. He crouched down and a fart ripped loose--loud as a sonic boom.
The blast knocked down the wooden fence and the Nosy Neighbor who had once again been looking through a peak-hole.
Then came the poo. Mushy and purple. A huge, stinky mountain that grew larger and larger. As the mountain of purple poo grew larger, our dog shrank and shrank until at last he was once again his normal size.
With a deep sigh, Poo sank into the grass and laid his head on his paws.
Muffled retching and sputtering emitted from the other side of the collapsed fence as the Nosy Neighbor struggled to free himself from the purple mountain of poo. I didn't even try to control my laughter.
After the purple mountain was cleaned up and the fence replaced, I noticed two major changes: we had no more problems with the Nosy Neighbor, and our dog Poo didn't eat any more eggplant.
Once again, I learned there is something positive in every big, stinky situation.
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
Thursday, March 5, 2015
We celebrated my older son's birthday last night. He lives in another city and stopped to pick up a cake from a local store. Not just any cake. This store has the most delicious cakes I have ever tasted. That's saying something from a dessert-a-holic who was raised with from-scratch desserts and became the family's main baker in my early teens.
After everyone had left my house, I wished I had kept an extra piece of that cake as I was wanting more of it. But my son had his own plans for the delicious dessert and had slipped the cake box into a bag to take home with him.
Without the comfort of additional sugar, I was alone with my dogs and my thoughts once again. Thoughts about a really unpleasant experience with a neighbor earlier in the day. I had dealt with his harassment off and on for many years, but this time he had taunted my dogs to the point one of them tore up part of my fence to get to him.
I spent hours and hours in conversation with my spirit guides of how to deal with this situation. They were not buying into any of my human solutions to turn the tables on this individual, and I didn't want to listen to their take-the-higher-road advice.
Shortly after 4:00 a.m., I finally surrendered this situation to the Universe and went to bed. My beautiful doggies are very tolerant of allowing me to sleep in. I finally surfaced about noon when their quiet fussing and nose nudges pulled me fully awake.
I dressed and took my doggies outside, patched up the fence and came back inside to start breakfast. Then my son called. "Mom, is the cake at your house?"
I thought it an odd question as I had seen him put it in a bag to take with him the night before. That's what I told him, but automatically took a glance around the dining room to be sure.
"In the brown bag," he added.
Well, I didn't see the brown bag either--until I took a better look. Not where I had seen the bag when he first put the cake box into it, but on top of one of my cabinets.
The message from the Universe hit me like a 4x4 and I started laughing. "What you want is right in front of you but you're not seeing it."
Of course I had to explain the message and laughter to my son, as well as to assure him the cake might be missing another piece or two when he returned for a visit next week.
And I am looking at my surroundings and inside myself more closely. Comparing what I want with what is already in my life. I have a new tool help me gauge if I'm on track with what I want to do in this life. The simple question, "What do I want that is right in front of me but I'm not seeing?"
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Quotes, thoughts and miscellany to make you think and imagine...
“For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: ‘If today was the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?’ And whenever the answer has been ‘No’ for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.” ~ Steve Jobs