Tuesday, August 30, 2011

A couple of days back, I blogged about our new dog, Sadie.  She’s half Australian Shepherd half Boarder Collie and an absolute gem.  In the  blog, I mentioned that Sadie is unlike any of our other dogs we’ve adopted since she doesn’t have any physical, emotional or behavioral problems we have to deal with.

But Sadie does have one character trait that makes her stand out from other dogs.  The breeds that she’s a mix of are both highly intelligent ones with Sadie being right at the top of that intelligence chain.  She’s very observant and doesn’t often miss things that are going on.  This brings me to her oddity.

Simply put, Sadie is camera shy.  Well, to be exact, she is shy of cameras and cell phones.  This makes getting a photo of her, one that’s not blurry from her getting up and moving away, a challenge.  She’s not paranoid of cameras.  Doesn’t freak out around them or start going crazy, barking and trying to attack.  Instead, the moment she notices a person with a cell phone or camera in their hand, aimed at her, she gets up and moves away as quick as possible.

This is truly one of the more curious character traits any dogs we’ve have had.  Sadie’s two and a half years old, and to the best of our knowledge, has never had a traumatizing encounter with cameras or cell phones.  As I mentioned, she doesn’t get aggressive when confronted with one, just gets up and moves away.  The funny thing is, due to her high intelligence, she can tell the difference of if someone is just holding their cell phone or has the camera mode turned on and is aiming it at her to snap a photo.  And this she senses even if the person is being ultra discrete with aiming it in her direction.

Not only did I think I would never get another dog after my Chow passed away, but I certainly didn’t think I’d end up adopting one that was camera shy.  I’ll have to see if I can get her over this affliction so I can get more photos of her.  

Monday, August 29, 2011

At the beginning of last week, I edited together all that had been added to a new collaborative short story effort and then handed it over to you readers for a second week to contribute whatever you’d like.  So far, we’ve had some great additions! 

Below, I’ve edited together what’s been written thus far and hope you readers will continue to add to the story for this final week.  Think you can wrap it up, create a title and finish off the saga of Tex, Clyde and Becky?  I’m rooting for you and have faith that you can.  Here goes….

It was a balmy July night.  Cooler than the last few, but the thermometer still read 78 degrees at nine.  Becky smiled when she parked the 1950s Chevy pick-up truck high on a bluff, overlooking the city lights below.  Then, turning, her ponytail making a flicking motion in the air, she took in the view before her.  It went on endlessly. 

Despite the lateness of the hour, the full moon cast enough light for Becky to note how there were no mountains to block her view, well…not mountains to most people’s standards.  But the residents of Missouri embraced their hills, manifesting them to mighty mountains in their imaginations.  

Becky blinked, as if breaking a trance, before pulling the door handle and getting out of the vehicle.  A gentle breeze kissed the lower half of her calves, made bare by her rolled up blue jeans.  It felt good against the cashmere sweater that hugged her curves.

She walked to the front of the truck and then climbed atop the hood of the car.  Scootching herself back, Becky leaned against the windshield. 

She was finally free. Free of her abusive boyfriend, free of her crappy job and free of her debts. Everything she owned was in the small tweed suitcase in the cab of the truck. Becky was tired, but still too wired to sleep, so she sat there on the hood of the sun-faded red pickup, thinking about what tomorrow might bring.

What would tomorrow bring?

Becky stared at the stars, daydreaming, wondering and hoping for a new day.

She didn't know how on earth it could have happened, but she fell asleep there on the hood of the old truck. Exhaustion was the best answer, of course.

She was surprised when she woke up and saw a meteor shower overhead and noticed that her neck hurt from the angle of the windshield. Becky climbed off the truck and into the cab, smiling at Clyde who had arrived as she slept.  Locking the door and lying her head down in his lap, she fell back into a fitful slumber.

Clyde wrapped a protective arm around her.  She stirred, brought slightly out of her sleep by the pressure of his arm.  When Becky felt him stroke her hair lovingly, she half smiled and mumbled, "Thank you," before falling back asleep, content that she was now safe.  That this man would allow no more harm to befall her.

                                                            ***

In her dreams, Becky relived what had happened.  How earlier that night, her boyfriend, Tex, had flown into a rage, one of many he was prone to, and had threatened to kill her.  Other times, Becky had been overwhelmed by the beatings she took from Tex.  But this time, she'd been truly frightened.  As she tried to block the blows from her boyfriend, she seriously wondered if he might make good on his promise to kill her.  

Then, like her personal guardian angel, Clyde had appeared in the apartment.  He later told Becky that he'd stopped by for a visit, but once at the door, overheard the commotion inside.  He explained how, when he'd heard Becky's strained voice cry out, "No! No more!" he'd forced his way in.

The rest was a blur to Becky.  One minute she was her boyfriend's punching bag, the next, she was broken free of him, placed off to the side in a protective gesture and then watched as Clyde knocked some sense into Tex.  By the time it was over, Becky's boyfriend was on the ground, rolled in a ball on his side, moaning and holding his nose, from which blood poured freely.  

Clyde came to where Becky was and helped her gather a few belongings into her tweed bag.  "You won't be back," he said.  

Becky didn't respond, least not with words.  Instead, she allowed herself to lean heavily against Clyde and be escorted from the apartment, never to return.

While seeing her to his truck, Clyde told Becky he'd meet her out at Make Out Point. He admitted that it wasn’t a very nice place but would likely be the last place Tex, her so-called boyfriend, would look, if he tried to look at all.

Becky threw her belongings into the truck and headed off to Make Out Point, knowing Clyde would meet her there...eventually.

                                                            ***

"Where have you been?" she asked groggily, her head in Clyde’s lap.

"Taking care of business," he responded.

"What kind?" she asked.

"The kind that needed to be taken care of a long time ago, Becky."

Becky was pretty sure Clyde was in love with her, but he had never made a move on her, never said a thing that would lead her to that conclusion. He was her friend, always sweet and always available when Tex went into one of his rages.

How she ended up with Tex wasn't clear to Becky. They’d met in a bar. She was drunk. Not much more to it than that. She knew from the start he was a problem and yet there was very little she could do to fix it.

So, where will you readers take the story this final week?

Sunday, August 28, 2011

One week ago today, we adopted a new dog.  This was sort of strange since I wasn’t looking for another dog.  In fact, since the sudden death of my beloved chow two and a half years ago, I had signed off the idea of ever getting another dog.  But then came this opportunity.

Two days before getting Sadie, our new dog, I met up with a girlfriend, who had a lead on a dog that needed an immediate new home.  There was nothing wrong with the dog that was a byproduct of harder economic times. 

I’ve known this girlfriend for over twenty years, and in that time, have helped adopt and place a number of animals through her.  Since the untimely death of my chow, many other dogs in need of a good home had crossed this girlfriend’s radar.  I’d been made privy to many of them, but never had the slightest inclination to look into adopting any of them.

But that day, sitting across from my girlfriend, something deep inside me clicked.  The thing that had been broken the day my chow died seemed to mend itself, and I asked to see this latest dog’s picture.  The moment I saw her, I knew…this was the dog for me.

Half Boarder Collie half Australian Shepherd, Sadie is a bundle of energy and loves to run the mountain with me.  She’s also a natural-born fetcher, meaning she will literally play fetch with anything until she drops or you tell her it’s time to stop playing. 

Unlike the other dogs we’ve rescued over the years, Sadie has no physical or emotional detriments.  Aside from needing a new home, this one and a half year-old darling is completely in tack.  This is especially odd, since we’ve always adopted the hard luck cases that have such physical disabilities as to need extensive surgery/rehabilitation.  We’ve also adopted animals that had terrible pasts, requiring that they be retrained to undo the damage the abuse they’d received had done.  But Sadie came to us a whole dog, full of energy and overflowing with adoration for all of us, including our year-old granddaughter.

It’s been a breath of fresh air having Sadie integrate into our family.  To witness how smooth that transition was.  To see how our fourteen-year old other female dog took an instant liking to her new friend and how the two girls are getting along.  Best of all has been my wondering over how at ease Sadie is. 

Since she has no past abuse that we had to undo the effects of, she’s a well-adjusted stable dog who adores lying next to anyone who will sit still long enough.  She’s especially fond of my granddaughter—the feeling’s mutual.  And to see the already close bond that has formed between my youngest son and his new sidekick, Sadie…that’s worth the world to me.  Whenever I walk by and see my son sitting, there’s Sadie, diligently lying beside him, my son’s fingers combing through her silky fur.

It’s ironic how these new pet opportunities have always had a way of just plopping in my lap.  Like others we’ve adopted, I wasn’t actively looking for another pet at the time.  Unlike others we’ve adopted, Sadie was able to break through a tremendous wall of scar tissue left behind by the death of my chow.  Within hours of her being here, she captured the hearts of all of us.  Since adopting her, that bond has continued to grow to the point that now, after only a week, I can’t imagine not having her with us. 

It’s pretty darn cool the rewards that come from reaching out and adopting a pet in need…. 

Saturday, August 27, 2011

I spoke with a friend earlier about how those who are close to one another see things about the other, which the rest of the world is blind to.  It’s like those who know one another best have the ability to see through the filters that shield the whole person on the other side.  This can prove unnerving, but it can also be comforting to know that there’s someone else out there who sees us to our core.  Not the center we reveal to the rest of the world.  Not even the one we’d like to believe is there.  But the one they see is who we really are, messy parts and all. 

I treasure my friends who can do this and with whom I’m able to see to their cores.  There’s something magical about being able to look a person in their eyes, never saying a word, and see all that’s hidden within them.  To lock a glance, and in that moment, input all that they are and reveal to them that you see them, understand them and accept them no matter if it’s uncomfortable or not. 

These are the friends with whom I have my deepest most meaningful relationships.  They’re the ones I get into the most heated discussions with, secure that they’ll still accept me at the end.  They’re the ones with whom I can bare my soul, telling things exactly as I feel them, not concerned with how jumbled those emotions may come out, for these are the friends who will sit there and digest my every word.  They’re the ones who know just how difficult it can be to express one’s innermost self and wouldn’t dream of standing in judgment of such. 

These are my friends who see through my filters.  I wouldn’t be half the person I am if it weren’t for their uncanny ability, for they help keep me humble and running on a true course.  When I flounder and must maintain an in control image for the rest of the world, these amazing friends cut through my filters to my core and call me on my BS.  In my opinion, these friends are amongst our greatest gifts.