Well, it was a long weekend in honor of Thanksgiving and as the days went by and we enjoyed being with our grown-up kids at our cabin – I couldn’t help but think of some of the things I am thankful for.
Besides the yummy turkey and fattening gravy – are things we often take for granted. Being alive for one…sometimes life gets in the way of living. We are running around working, caring for our families, and making ends meet that we forget that we are alive and have the ability to pursue the things we are passionate about. No matter how busy we allow our lives to become – it is important to take a breath and cherish the mere fact that we are alive and that we do have control of how we spend our time here.
I am especially thankful for my family and friends who have come to love me as I am and embrace the crazy things I am passionate about… writing, saving dogs, being free spirited. These wonderful people in my life have supported me through many hard moments – even this year when my oldest brother passed away in a tragic boating accident. They came together and showed their love in so many ways that I was amazed…and grateful.
I am thankful for my daughters… Abby, at only 11(tomorrow) is such a generous spirit and an amazing artist – always creating. Lindsey, is a free spirit… anxious to see the world and accomplish her dreams. Kristin, is a loving spirit…with a big heart and a desire to have a family to nurture.
There is that unbelievable relationship with my ex-husband, his wife and their two girls who I treasure everyday. My friendship with Carol is so dear no matter how nuts it seems to others. And I feel so fortunate to be able to call Molly and Lucy my family… to be a part of their lives and watch them grow.
And, it would not be “me” if I didn’t also mention something I am thankful for that caught me a bit off guard this weekend. Yesterday, a friend of mine, Susan, and I went to help a shelter up by our cabin who was recently inundated with nearly 100 animals due to a seizure from a home that was unlivable. It is a small non-profit shelter in a county which is not full of resources or money. Taking on this many animals could financially bankrupt them. Not to mention they are completely short of manpower to care for all the animals.
When I arrived, I was so surprised by the shelter and how well it was managed and how well the animals were cared for. Blankets, toys, lots of food and, it was obvious, lots of love. I had envisioned a place somewhat run down and barely caring for the animals… Mostly, because of the geographic location.
As we cleaned cages and fed animals, I was continuously amazed by the operation. And, I became so thankful. Thankful that there are so many people around the globe who are truly caring about all of these homeless animals. I often become so skeptical of the world when I continue to see such neglect and cruelty that I forget how many wonderful people there are out there who are helping the voiceless animals and ending their suffering and giving them that second chance.
Being at that shelter and realizing the actual humanity in our world, has made me truly thankful for being alive, right now, today… and has given me hope for being alive…tomorrow.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Truths: Nine is More than a Number
Last night, as is tradition, 6 of my 9 college friends got together for dinner. We go back to sharing a huge house in college at U of I senior year where, even with 9 girls, we all got our own room.
The house was on Busey street and whether be by default or by creative design we coined ourselves the Busey Girls.
A whole year we had together – to talk, laugh, cry, and share practically everything about our lives.
There were so many moments where we would be lounging in our family room watching 90210 and some us would come and go… But, always staying for a spell to chat and to listen.
I didn’t realize then how very special all of it was. How incredible it was to have access to 8 friends nearly 24/7.
I never realized that that was the only time in my life I would be blessed with that scenario. Graduation would come and go and I found myself living alone.
Luckily, even though those days of chatter and laughs are gone, the 9 of us have done a great job of keeping in touch. We have made quite the effort to get together for dinner or a girly sleepover (where we kick everyone else in our household out) or even go on long weekend getaways.
Whether we have children 3 months to 12 years old, or are working full-time, we have made the effort to be there.
5 of us live in the relatively same area, 1 of us lives about 4 hours away and the other two are in different states altogether. But, each of us has kept in touch – thank goodness for email.
So, last night 6 of us were able to get to dinner. There were 25 emails leading up to the event out, but in the end everyone who could – made it.
Granted we couldn’t do it before 8pm – because some had to go to teacher conferences, some had basketball practice, and some had paid jobs…
But at 8pm, like clockwork, everyone started drizzling in. And, within minutes, we were seated ordering cocktails and talking – lots of talking.
Kate filled us in our her unbelievable life as a full-time attorney and the antics of the three boys (TRIPLETS)… Plus one on the way…something none of us could imagine!
There was talk of PTOs (parent teacher organization). Questions like: how much fundraising is enough, what to do with a mom who is driving you nuts on a committee, etc…
What to do with a child who has no interest in reading..
The thesis of a paper for Tina’s PhD…
And the list of conversation goes on and on – for over 4 hours and until we were the very last table at the Cheesecake factory. They must close at midnight!
I guess the topics of our conversation aren’t especially important – it’s the mere fact that we are there having them.
We have been out of college for 16 years and not a month has gone by that we aren’t sharing emails or planning time to get together.
I recently read that if you can maintain a friendship until 40, that friendship will last the rest if your life… One more year to go!
The most amazing thing about our friendship is that we are the most diverse group of friends you can imagine.. from conservative Catholic to free spirit Atheist we are sometimes a millions miles apart in beliefs.
But, regardless, our differences have brought so much color to our friendship.
There are 9 Busey Girls – which means there are 8 women I am grateful to know and to share my life with. There are many days I long for the hours I took for granted back in that family room spread out on the sofas, watching 90210 surrounded by dear fiends.
But, as Tina ended the night with: “When are we going to Florida to stay at Becky’s parents?”
Soon Tina… Soon. ☺
The house was on Busey street and whether be by default or by creative design we coined ourselves the Busey Girls.
A whole year we had together – to talk, laugh, cry, and share practically everything about our lives.
There were so many moments where we would be lounging in our family room watching 90210 and some us would come and go… But, always staying for a spell to chat and to listen.
I didn’t realize then how very special all of it was. How incredible it was to have access to 8 friends nearly 24/7.
I never realized that that was the only time in my life I would be blessed with that scenario. Graduation would come and go and I found myself living alone.
Luckily, even though those days of chatter and laughs are gone, the 9 of us have done a great job of keeping in touch. We have made quite the effort to get together for dinner or a girly sleepover (where we kick everyone else in our household out) or even go on long weekend getaways.
Whether we have children 3 months to 12 years old, or are working full-time, we have made the effort to be there.
5 of us live in the relatively same area, 1 of us lives about 4 hours away and the other two are in different states altogether. But, each of us has kept in touch – thank goodness for email.
So, last night 6 of us were able to get to dinner. There were 25 emails leading up to the event out, but in the end everyone who could – made it.
Granted we couldn’t do it before 8pm – because some had to go to teacher conferences, some had basketball practice, and some had paid jobs…
But at 8pm, like clockwork, everyone started drizzling in. And, within minutes, we were seated ordering cocktails and talking – lots of talking.
Kate filled us in our her unbelievable life as a full-time attorney and the antics of the three boys (TRIPLETS)… Plus one on the way…something none of us could imagine!
There was talk of PTOs (parent teacher organization). Questions like: how much fundraising is enough, what to do with a mom who is driving you nuts on a committee, etc…
What to do with a child who has no interest in reading..
The thesis of a paper for Tina’s PhD…
And the list of conversation goes on and on – for over 4 hours and until we were the very last table at the Cheesecake factory. They must close at midnight!
I guess the topics of our conversation aren’t especially important – it’s the mere fact that we are there having them.
We have been out of college for 16 years and not a month has gone by that we aren’t sharing emails or planning time to get together.
I recently read that if you can maintain a friendship until 40, that friendship will last the rest if your life… One more year to go!
The most amazing thing about our friendship is that we are the most diverse group of friends you can imagine.. from conservative Catholic to free spirit Atheist we are sometimes a millions miles apart in beliefs.
But, regardless, our differences have brought so much color to our friendship.
There are 9 Busey Girls – which means there are 8 women I am grateful to know and to share my life with. There are many days I long for the hours I took for granted back in that family room spread out on the sofas, watching 90210 surrounded by dear fiends.
But, as Tina ended the night with: “When are we going to Florida to stay at Becky’s parents?”
Soon Tina… Soon. ☺
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Truths: The Mop and the Bucket
Today is not an exciting day for me...or maybe it is. For the last few weeks, I have been committed to a bunch of meetings. I am involved in a Garden Club (I know it kinda makes me giggle too) and somehow I found myself on THREE committees - all with the same deadline.
There was the Train Station Beautification committee, the decorate a tree for our Opera House comittee, and then I co-chaired our first fundraiser. All of these things came together last week. And yesterday, after decorating the tree (and almost getting in the holiday spirit), I found myself FREE. No more meetings.
So, when I came home from my taste of the holidays, I came home to a house that is a complete disaster! Its funny how once you become busy and your regular schedule is thrown out the window - things fail to get done. Things don't seem to get put away and all of a sudden - your whole house has spiraled into a damn tornado of dirt, stuff and chaos!
That is where I find myself today... And yet, while I am dreading the hard work it will take to fix this - there is a part of me that just longs to put my life back in order - to gain control again.
I have four dogs and three cats - and it just doesn't work not having time to vacuum or mop. The hair that floats around this house is enough to cover a cow and keep him warm.
The sun light hits the wooden floors and it looks like I haven't vacuumed in two years (even if I did do it yesterday - which I didn't - but I usually do).
There are muddy footprints and dog toys strewn all across the floors. And as I take it all in, I notice that all four dogs and three cats are happily lounging on the sofa and the big chair. Oh - to be so content with your own mess.
I also have a daughter who apparently has a hard time taking her ice cream bowl to the sink. Whose crafts are all drying on the kitchen table that her 4 pairs of shoes are under!
To inspire my cleaning day, I did purchase a throw rug for our family room. We have been without ever since one of the dogs was horribly sick... I won't go into detail about what that was like. I will just say - we definitely needed a new rug. There was no saving the last one.
I also had my husband bring up some tables from the basement which we hadn't been using. I needed some excitement to clean - some type of change to satisfy me when I am done.
I am nuts like this - always re-arranging and trying new things in my house. It keeps me alive and it drives the rest of my family bonkers!
(Though I think this attempt might just be procrastination from putting up the Christmas tree and dragging up all the decorations!)
This need to clean, to maintain some control by having an organized home didn't start until much later in life. Gosh, ask my best friend, Kelly, what our dorm was like.
No, I wasn't always this clean - I think shows like Oprah and HGTV's episodes on clutter have forced me to get my act in order.
So, today I stare down my mess and I take back my house! And, tonight I will be calmer and happier and relieved - Until tomorrow when I notice a furball floating in the corner and I pick up shoes and now, have to vacuum that new rug!
There was the Train Station Beautification committee, the decorate a tree for our Opera House comittee, and then I co-chaired our first fundraiser. All of these things came together last week. And yesterday, after decorating the tree (and almost getting in the holiday spirit), I found myself FREE. No more meetings.
So, when I came home from my taste of the holidays, I came home to a house that is a complete disaster! Its funny how once you become busy and your regular schedule is thrown out the window - things fail to get done. Things don't seem to get put away and all of a sudden - your whole house has spiraled into a damn tornado of dirt, stuff and chaos!
That is where I find myself today... And yet, while I am dreading the hard work it will take to fix this - there is a part of me that just longs to put my life back in order - to gain control again.
I have four dogs and three cats - and it just doesn't work not having time to vacuum or mop. The hair that floats around this house is enough to cover a cow and keep him warm.
The sun light hits the wooden floors and it looks like I haven't vacuumed in two years (even if I did do it yesterday - which I didn't - but I usually do).
There are muddy footprints and dog toys strewn all across the floors. And as I take it all in, I notice that all four dogs and three cats are happily lounging on the sofa and the big chair. Oh - to be so content with your own mess.
I also have a daughter who apparently has a hard time taking her ice cream bowl to the sink. Whose crafts are all drying on the kitchen table that her 4 pairs of shoes are under!
To inspire my cleaning day, I did purchase a throw rug for our family room. We have been without ever since one of the dogs was horribly sick... I won't go into detail about what that was like. I will just say - we definitely needed a new rug. There was no saving the last one.
I also had my husband bring up some tables from the basement which we hadn't been using. I needed some excitement to clean - some type of change to satisfy me when I am done.
I am nuts like this - always re-arranging and trying new things in my house. It keeps me alive and it drives the rest of my family bonkers!
(Though I think this attempt might just be procrastination from putting up the Christmas tree and dragging up all the decorations!)
This need to clean, to maintain some control by having an organized home didn't start until much later in life. Gosh, ask my best friend, Kelly, what our dorm was like.
No, I wasn't always this clean - I think shows like Oprah and HGTV's episodes on clutter have forced me to get my act in order.
So, today I stare down my mess and I take back my house! And, tonight I will be calmer and happier and relieved - Until tomorrow when I notice a furball floating in the corner and I pick up shoes and now, have to vacuum that new rug!
Monday, November 23, 2009
Truths: A Surprise behind the Surprise
So, this Saturday I attended a 40th surprise party – in fact, I even planned it. The birthday girl was completely caught off guard and the whole thing turned out near perfect: if I may so say myself!
The planning started months ago and we created a theme: 1969! Not to mention that we actually live in the town of Woodstock.
We had tye-dye tapestries and my friend, Debbie, who also helped with the planning, and I wore crazy $6 dresses we got at Target. I had flowers in my hair and a peace sign on my face.
And to our amazement – so many of the other guests really did take the theme seriously and dressed up. Wigs, bell bottoms, platform shoes – the whole bit. Which made it that much more fun.
We had these cool peace sign cookies and of course, a batch of “special” brownies and bowls of “magic” mushrooms (PRETEND ONES). It helped that we were also at a bowling alley that had to be around in 1969 and hasn’t changed much since.
But, real surprise is that the party, that I planned, was for my ex-husband’s wife, Carol. Yep, you read that right – my ex-husband’s wife.
It is so hard to explain something that people can never get their arms around. Somehow, amongst all the raw emotions that take place during a divorce and its aftermath, Carol and I became friends.
I don’t just mean acquaintances who tolerate one another when family situations arise. I mean full fledged good friends who share most everything about their lives.
She is there for me everyday. We talk all of the time and we live in the same neighborhood. She knows when I am having a bad day and knows when I am overwhelmed with life and gets me through them.
We have dinners at their home and we celebrate birthdays together. We do everything friends would do and yet, our relationship is so hard for people to believe.
I am certain that when people saw the invitations and read my name – they gasped – a little… Or silently questioned why?
I wanted to plan Carol’s party because she wanted one (even though she really never came out and said it). I wanted to plan a party because she is my friend and she turned 40 – and that is what friends do.
So, behind the actual surprise of the party – is the surprise of who planned it.
I blog about this because I just thing people should realize the possibility: what if ex-spouses really did get along and found a place in their lives for the new spouses…
What if it wasn’t about the hurt and the anger anymore and was about the potentially harmonious future?
I am not saying what we have would work for everyone but I am saying that it is definitely something people should consider.
It is unbelievable the real surprises that could be in store…
Friday, November 20, 2009
Truths: Ho Ho... ugh
Five weeks from today is Christmas… It really doesn’t matter that next week is Thanksgiving. Merchants don’t care that we haven’t even digested our turkey dinners. They have been clearing the aisles and putting up Christmas trees before the Halloween candy was even handed out.
We wonder why we don’t feel the spirit of Christmas anymore – why we don’t enjoy the holidays (why do we even say that as though it were plural? We don’t get to celebrate Thanksgiving and who cares about New Years… After Santa makes his last drop, the Valentine cards and candy are out enticing young lovers)
Even TV has rushed us through the holidays. We watched Greys Anatomy last night and they were already ringing in the new year! I guess Seattle doesn’t even celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas. Maybe it’s too rainy?
Anyway, I actually love getting gifts and truly love, even more, giving them, so Christmas should be a perfect time for me.
But, I find myself overwhelmed by the holiday. Frantically begging my kids for wish lists and scurrying around box stores and the internet to grab whatever I can find that will bring my family joy.
A new shirt, a webcam, a TV, a DVD, itunes… the list goes on. And deep down I know, we all know, it’s not those things that bring anyone lasting happiness.
For a fleeting moment, maybe even 24 hours, there is joy but before the tree is ever taken down – that moment is gone.
It doesn’t mean I won’t keep scurrying around like a crazy squirrel frantic to hide that last nut before snowfall.. I will be… but,I am left to ponder how to make this Christmas more meaningful for my friends, my family and even me.
Sure we could help at a soup kitchen or feed and walk the shelter dogs on Christmas day, but there has to be something that can inspire us from within ourselves.
I think whether it be Christmas or not, we are all searching for that “thing” that will fill a void we feel in our soul. Our lives have become so entangled with TIVO and texting and emailing that we have forgotten what it is like to sit on the front porch and watch the world go by or to sit in front of a Christmas tree with some hot chocolate and sigh, realizing how lucky we are to even just “be.”
This year as the UPS truck pulls into my driveway and the bags from Walmart stack up in the wrapping room…I am going to make a commitment to take a moment now and then to just “be” and to attempt to find the joy and the magic in the holidayS.
I think that if I take those moments here and there, not only will I actually enjoy Christmas and calm my soul, but I will be able to share my newfound holiday spirit with the people around me: my family and friends and encourage them to do the same.
We wonder why we don’t feel the spirit of Christmas anymore – why we don’t enjoy the holidays (why do we even say that as though it were plural? We don’t get to celebrate Thanksgiving and who cares about New Years… After Santa makes his last drop, the Valentine cards and candy are out enticing young lovers)
Even TV has rushed us through the holidays. We watched Greys Anatomy last night and they were already ringing in the new year! I guess Seattle doesn’t even celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas. Maybe it’s too rainy?
Anyway, I actually love getting gifts and truly love, even more, giving them, so Christmas should be a perfect time for me.
But, I find myself overwhelmed by the holiday. Frantically begging my kids for wish lists and scurrying around box stores and the internet to grab whatever I can find that will bring my family joy.
A new shirt, a webcam, a TV, a DVD, itunes… the list goes on. And deep down I know, we all know, it’s not those things that bring anyone lasting happiness.
For a fleeting moment, maybe even 24 hours, there is joy but before the tree is ever taken down – that moment is gone.
It doesn’t mean I won’t keep scurrying around like a crazy squirrel frantic to hide that last nut before snowfall.. I will be… but,I am left to ponder how to make this Christmas more meaningful for my friends, my family and even me.
Sure we could help at a soup kitchen or feed and walk the shelter dogs on Christmas day, but there has to be something that can inspire us from within ourselves.
I think whether it be Christmas or not, we are all searching for that “thing” that will fill a void we feel in our soul. Our lives have become so entangled with TIVO and texting and emailing that we have forgotten what it is like to sit on the front porch and watch the world go by or to sit in front of a Christmas tree with some hot chocolate and sigh, realizing how lucky we are to even just “be.”
This year as the UPS truck pulls into my driveway and the bags from Walmart stack up in the wrapping room…I am going to make a commitment to take a moment now and then to just “be” and to attempt to find the joy and the magic in the holidayS.
I think that if I take those moments here and there, not only will I actually enjoy Christmas and calm my soul, but I will be able to share my newfound holiday spirit with the people around me: my family and friends and encourage them to do the same.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Tails: Unseen Efforts
This Saturday a group of my fellow rescuers are going into a mill in northern Wisconsin to save 34 dogs. They come in all breeds, sexes and sizes, but they share one thing in common: their lives have been spent making puppies for those places we call petstores.
It is a horrible life for them.
One of the rescuers has already gone into the mill to check out the dogs and prepare breed rescues for the shape these dogs are in. Yes, these dogs are in wire cages with wire bottoms and pooping on the dogs below them. They have been served cheap food and dirty water. And have never had one ounce of human affection.
And, most of them will have health issues such as bad teeth, viral infections and, all of them will need to be groomed. On top of the potentially fixable health problems will be the behavioral scars they all share and curing those will takes unconditional love and patience.
I know most people only see this kind of stuff on Oprah and tend to believe that these are isolated situations. But, I am here to tell you they are not. Nearly everyday I get emails about a mill closing or a puppy miller calling to "get rid" of the dogs because he has no use for them.
The conditions people see in newspaper stories or TV - aren't exaggerations - they are real and they are everywhere.
Nobody is out to get stores like Petland because they have poor customer service - it is because they are getting their dogs from these horrible places and selling them to unknowing people for LOTS of money.
I am not here to preach (okay maybe a little). I am here to sincerely express this is real.
This Saturday a group a rescuers are committing their time, their money (or that begged from friends like mine) to save these dogs that too few people believe are actually out there.
There are mass transports set-up to get these dogs to all the shelters and rescues who have stepped up to help. It is a tireless effort and the worse part of all is that no matter how many we save - people still don't believe it is true: the number of puppy mills out there and the conditions these dogs live in.
We are not crazy animal rights people... we don't expect every dog to sleep on a couch and have chicken for dinner - but we do expect dignity for dogs and the right to basic necessities.
This Saturday people are committing everything they have to save these dogs - all I ask is that people begin to believe this is real. There are 34 dogs who will prove it this Saturday and thousands more still waiting to be saved.
It is a horrible life for them.
One of the rescuers has already gone into the mill to check out the dogs and prepare breed rescues for the shape these dogs are in. Yes, these dogs are in wire cages with wire bottoms and pooping on the dogs below them. They have been served cheap food and dirty water. And have never had one ounce of human affection.
And, most of them will have health issues such as bad teeth, viral infections and, all of them will need to be groomed. On top of the potentially fixable health problems will be the behavioral scars they all share and curing those will takes unconditional love and patience.
I know most people only see this kind of stuff on Oprah and tend to believe that these are isolated situations. But, I am here to tell you they are not. Nearly everyday I get emails about a mill closing or a puppy miller calling to "get rid" of the dogs because he has no use for them.
The conditions people see in newspaper stories or TV - aren't exaggerations - they are real and they are everywhere.
Nobody is out to get stores like Petland because they have poor customer service - it is because they are getting their dogs from these horrible places and selling them to unknowing people for LOTS of money.
I am not here to preach (okay maybe a little). I am here to sincerely express this is real.
This Saturday a group a rescuers are committing their time, their money (or that begged from friends like mine) to save these dogs that too few people believe are actually out there.
There are mass transports set-up to get these dogs to all the shelters and rescues who have stepped up to help. It is a tireless effort and the worse part of all is that no matter how many we save - people still don't believe it is true: the number of puppy mills out there and the conditions these dogs live in.
We are not crazy animal rights people... we don't expect every dog to sleep on a couch and have chicken for dinner - but we do expect dignity for dogs and the right to basic necessities.
This Saturday people are committing everything they have to save these dogs - all I ask is that people begin to believe this is real. There are 34 dogs who will prove it this Saturday and thousands more still waiting to be saved.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Truths: Sick Days
So, I had big plans for today... Some blogging, some working out, a meeting, and just other things to get done... But, when we awoke this morning, my daughter's stomach hurt and well, she puked.
As she flushed the toilet, it was as though she was flushing all my plans down too.
Stay at home moms often get the, "Oh..." when people ask what they do for a living. As though our lives are comprised of laundry, homework, and cleaning the house. And, of course, between those responsibilities we are eating bon bons and watching soaps and... shopping.
Working moms may shun us when our kids are sick because at least we are home to take care of them and we don't have to miss work.
It is so untrue. Stay at homes are the masters of scheduling, the ideal creators of time management and experts at multi-tasking. Our entire identity depends on these skills and our household runs like a well oiled machine because we are good at our jobs.
I am not inferring that we are better than working moms... I was a working mom. It was hard and exhausting, but between 8am and 5pm, I had life all my own. I had lunches out and conversations with adults. I was challenged each day without seeking purpose. I loved my job and quite frankly, I loved that I was an accomplishing adult for 40 hours every week.
But, when I chose to stay home, all of that changed. Carpools, laundry, cleaning - they aren't challenging. Instead they are mindless activities and so, I had to find ways to expose myself to challenges. I had to develop my own goals - I no longer had a job to do that for me.
It is hard as stay at home mom - or any mom at all - to identify what you want to do with your life. Beyond the day-to-day, you have to reach down into your soul and ask hard questions. Such as: what else is there for me, what am I seeking, and am I not going after it because I am scared?
Writing a novel (my dream), running a marathon, starting a non-profit... what exactly do we want and how will we get there?
Amongst the volunteering at the schools, and picking up kids at soccer - we are strapped with the yearning to make more of our lives. Because, staying at home isn't enough for the world... and usually, it is not enough for us either.
So, my plans are altered today - not because I have a paying job and have to stay home. But, because even though I am home, my plans to change the world are not going to start today.
As she flushed the toilet, it was as though she was flushing all my plans down too.
Stay at home moms often get the, "Oh..." when people ask what they do for a living. As though our lives are comprised of laundry, homework, and cleaning the house. And, of course, between those responsibilities we are eating bon bons and watching soaps and... shopping.
Working moms may shun us when our kids are sick because at least we are home to take care of them and we don't have to miss work.
It is so untrue. Stay at homes are the masters of scheduling, the ideal creators of time management and experts at multi-tasking. Our entire identity depends on these skills and our household runs like a well oiled machine because we are good at our jobs.
I am not inferring that we are better than working moms... I was a working mom. It was hard and exhausting, but between 8am and 5pm, I had life all my own. I had lunches out and conversations with adults. I was challenged each day without seeking purpose. I loved my job and quite frankly, I loved that I was an accomplishing adult for 40 hours every week.
But, when I chose to stay home, all of that changed. Carpools, laundry, cleaning - they aren't challenging. Instead they are mindless activities and so, I had to find ways to expose myself to challenges. I had to develop my own goals - I no longer had a job to do that for me.
It is hard as stay at home mom - or any mom at all - to identify what you want to do with your life. Beyond the day-to-day, you have to reach down into your soul and ask hard questions. Such as: what else is there for me, what am I seeking, and am I not going after it because I am scared?
Writing a novel (my dream), running a marathon, starting a non-profit... what exactly do we want and how will we get there?
Amongst the volunteering at the schools, and picking up kids at soccer - we are strapped with the yearning to make more of our lives. Because, staying at home isn't enough for the world... and usually, it is not enough for us either.
So, my plans are altered today - not because I have a paying job and have to stay home. But, because even though I am home, my plans to change the world are not going to start today.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Tails: The Unchosen
Last night as my family sat around watching Dancing with the Stars and I was laying on the couch with our newest puppy mill dog, Penelope, I began to think about all of our dogs.
I know there are so many people out there who have this ideal about what breed of dog they want and how old they want it to be. If they want a male or a female. They research temperaments and grooming needs. They read about how much exercise the dog will need and if it will be good with children. These people search high and low for the dog of their dreams.
I guess for the most part, in the end, these people are happy with their choices and I do believe that it is an excellent idea to do the homework before getting any dog.
But, I can't help thinking when I look at my 4 rescued dogs - that I ended up with the unchosen. No one wanted these dogs - they were not anyone's dream. In fact, two of them, the puppy mill breeding dogs, never even had a chance to be someone's puppy.
They became a part of our family by chance.
Buddy, a true mutt, - a couple didn't want any longer and he just happened to land in our home.
Sadie, a mutt, I saw on Petfinder in a 1 inch photo and drove 16 hours round trip to get her. I had no idea what she was like - I barely knew what she looked like. But, when I got to the foster home, there was turning back. Even though she looked nothing like her photo and seemed kind of nippy.
Thorp, the male mill breeding dog was completely fate. I went to my first mill auction to protest and when I walked in the auction barn and saw all of the hundreds of dogs for auction: it took my breath away. But, when I walked up to #171's cage something struck me deep inside. This dog was a mess - he was gross and pathetic - and without knowing anything about him - I bought him for $60.00
I never had a Chinese Crested Powder Puff, I didn't even know what one was. But no one at the auction wanted him, except me.
Lastly, the most amazing story, is Penelope. a Shih Tzu. As a group of rescuers, we had been attending these auctions to try and save the used up breeding dogs whose only other fate would be death. There is a list that comes out with an auction number and a line that says, "sex, age, breed." That is it. No pictures, no description.
A friend of mine looked at the list and said, "Number 146 is for you."
So, I went to the auction and saw 146 and got her. When I saw her in the wire cage there was no looking back. Regardless of how shy she was, or how dirty she was or how many health problems she would have- I knew she would be mine. We had already named her; sight unseen.
All of our dogs are the unchosen, the unwanted but together they make this amazing pack. Sure, we have had our share of behavior issues. But what soul wouldn't have issues if it spent its life unwanted and unloved?
I used to almost laugh when people brought back dogs to animal control because the new one didn't get along with the old one, or the dog had an accident, etc...
Our dogs grumble with each other once in awhile, they have accidents, but they are ours and we love them. And because they are finally loved and safe - they are grateful. They share with us this unconditional love and they make us happy everyday.
We never knew anything about these dogs until they melted our hearts and became a part of our family.
I respect the people who research and idealize about the dog they want someday...but I also think its important to let fate be your guide, to open your mind and heart to the unwanted, the unchosen and let them in. No, they might not have a pedigree or be 8 weeks old, but they will be unique and amazing and they will love you unconditionally because you picked them when no one else did.
I know there are so many people out there who have this ideal about what breed of dog they want and how old they want it to be. If they want a male or a female. They research temperaments and grooming needs. They read about how much exercise the dog will need and if it will be good with children. These people search high and low for the dog of their dreams.
I guess for the most part, in the end, these people are happy with their choices and I do believe that it is an excellent idea to do the homework before getting any dog.
But, I can't help thinking when I look at my 4 rescued dogs - that I ended up with the unchosen. No one wanted these dogs - they were not anyone's dream. In fact, two of them, the puppy mill breeding dogs, never even had a chance to be someone's puppy.
They became a part of our family by chance.
Buddy, a true mutt, - a couple didn't want any longer and he just happened to land in our home.
Sadie, a mutt, I saw on Petfinder in a 1 inch photo and drove 16 hours round trip to get her. I had no idea what she was like - I barely knew what she looked like. But, when I got to the foster home, there was turning back. Even though she looked nothing like her photo and seemed kind of nippy.
Thorp, the male mill breeding dog was completely fate. I went to my first mill auction to protest and when I walked in the auction barn and saw all of the hundreds of dogs for auction: it took my breath away. But, when I walked up to #171's cage something struck me deep inside. This dog was a mess - he was gross and pathetic - and without knowing anything about him - I bought him for $60.00
I never had a Chinese Crested Powder Puff, I didn't even know what one was. But no one at the auction wanted him, except me.
Lastly, the most amazing story, is Penelope. a Shih Tzu. As a group of rescuers, we had been attending these auctions to try and save the used up breeding dogs whose only other fate would be death. There is a list that comes out with an auction number and a line that says, "sex, age, breed." That is it. No pictures, no description.
A friend of mine looked at the list and said, "Number 146 is for you."
So, I went to the auction and saw 146 and got her. When I saw her in the wire cage there was no looking back. Regardless of how shy she was, or how dirty she was or how many health problems she would have- I knew she would be mine. We had already named her; sight unseen.
All of our dogs are the unchosen, the unwanted but together they make this amazing pack. Sure, we have had our share of behavior issues. But what soul wouldn't have issues if it spent its life unwanted and unloved?
I used to almost laugh when people brought back dogs to animal control because the new one didn't get along with the old one, or the dog had an accident, etc...
Our dogs grumble with each other once in awhile, they have accidents, but they are ours and we love them. And because they are finally loved and safe - they are grateful. They share with us this unconditional love and they make us happy everyday.
We never knew anything about these dogs until they melted our hearts and became a part of our family.
I respect the people who research and idealize about the dog they want someday...but I also think its important to let fate be your guide, to open your mind and heart to the unwanted, the unchosen and let them in. No, they might not have a pedigree or be 8 weeks old, but they will be unique and amazing and they will love you unconditionally because you picked them when no one else did.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Truths:Elementary Elections
So, Friday was the big elementary school elections for my daughter. The whole process is truly something our country should consider as a best practice.
It started a few weeks ago when my daughter came home and said, “Maggie is running for President and said that I could be her Secretary.”
Hmm, we thought and said, “Why don’t YOU run for President and let Maggie be your secretary?”
I can’t help it; I am a type A personality!
Needless to say, my daughter was quite content with running for Secretary and so the campaigning began.
Here is the first example our government should enact: the candidates could only spend $6.00 and everything they did or handed out had to be made. No candy, no pencils, no toys.
All of their signs had to be hand written – no copies, no computer print-outs.
Can we even imagine a dollar cap on our legislative campaigns? Oh, the money that could be used towards education…
So, my daughter, her friend, and I spent 3 hours creating little trinkets for her to hand-out on the “small speeches” day which was held during the lunch hours. We made pencil cut-outs, of course! She is running for Secretary!
She went to school that day, grocery bag in hand, full of our creations and a note card with her “small speech.” Her experience campaigning was about to begin.
She came home glowing. Everyone loved her pencils and was wearing them. Her speech went well. All of her posters were taped up in the halls and things were going right as planned.
There were no signs hanging up trash talking the other candidates, no one handed out things like candy; they followed the rules.
Friday was the real speech day and right after would be voting. There were no primaries to deal with. No one had to declare a party. Each name was on the ballot in alphabetical order. Students were to vote for who they wanted best – not based on what party the students were from because there were no parties – just individuals standing behind their own unique ideals not having to conform to a party.
A few mothers/friends and I went to the school to cheer our kids on.
One thing the girls learned from last year is that they shouldn’t all run for the same position because the votes were all split between them and no one won. No, this year, they all ran for a different job. Perhaps, politicians in the making – learning the tricks of the trade.
About 40 candidates ran for the 8 or so positions and we all sat, okay stood, through each of the speeches
As moms, we were more nervous than our kids. My heart pounding as if I was going to get up and public speak.
The kids were great. They were honest and sincere about why they wanted to run. One kid even said, “I will not promise things like candy for lunch. I will only promise things I can deliver.”
How refreshing!
These 10 and 11 year olds got it. They weren’t up there lying or bad mouthing each other. They were up there because they wanted to do something fun and serve their school.
There is no money involved, no life long pension, no bribes from the powerful interest group. This was a clean race – a race of naivety, of young passion to serve their classmates and to have fun.
Why aren’t our races like that? What happened to politicians that it became about greed and hate and he said, she said.
Is there anyone, anymore running because they have a sincere and honest passion to serve our country?
We can only hope that as these young politicians grow-up, they aren’t tainted and that some of them might run for office in the same manner as they ran for student council in 5th grade.
Sadly, the odds aren’t in our favor.
It started a few weeks ago when my daughter came home and said, “Maggie is running for President and said that I could be her Secretary.”
Hmm, we thought and said, “Why don’t YOU run for President and let Maggie be your secretary?”
I can’t help it; I am a type A personality!
Needless to say, my daughter was quite content with running for Secretary and so the campaigning began.
Here is the first example our government should enact: the candidates could only spend $6.00 and everything they did or handed out had to be made. No candy, no pencils, no toys.
All of their signs had to be hand written – no copies, no computer print-outs.
Can we even imagine a dollar cap on our legislative campaigns? Oh, the money that could be used towards education…
So, my daughter, her friend, and I spent 3 hours creating little trinkets for her to hand-out on the “small speeches” day which was held during the lunch hours. We made pencil cut-outs, of course! She is running for Secretary!
She went to school that day, grocery bag in hand, full of our creations and a note card with her “small speech.” Her experience campaigning was about to begin.
She came home glowing. Everyone loved her pencils and was wearing them. Her speech went well. All of her posters were taped up in the halls and things were going right as planned.
There were no signs hanging up trash talking the other candidates, no one handed out things like candy; they followed the rules.
Friday was the real speech day and right after would be voting. There were no primaries to deal with. No one had to declare a party. Each name was on the ballot in alphabetical order. Students were to vote for who they wanted best – not based on what party the students were from because there were no parties – just individuals standing behind their own unique ideals not having to conform to a party.
A few mothers/friends and I went to the school to cheer our kids on.
One thing the girls learned from last year is that they shouldn’t all run for the same position because the votes were all split between them and no one won. No, this year, they all ran for a different job. Perhaps, politicians in the making – learning the tricks of the trade.
About 40 candidates ran for the 8 or so positions and we all sat, okay stood, through each of the speeches
As moms, we were more nervous than our kids. My heart pounding as if I was going to get up and public speak.
The kids were great. They were honest and sincere about why they wanted to run. One kid even said, “I will not promise things like candy for lunch. I will only promise things I can deliver.”
How refreshing!
These 10 and 11 year olds got it. They weren’t up there lying or bad mouthing each other. They were up there because they wanted to do something fun and serve their school.
There is no money involved, no life long pension, no bribes from the powerful interest group. This was a clean race – a race of naivety, of young passion to serve their classmates and to have fun.
Why aren’t our races like that? What happened to politicians that it became about greed and hate and he said, she said.
Is there anyone, anymore running because they have a sincere and honest passion to serve our country?
We can only hope that as these young politicians grow-up, they aren’t tainted and that some of them might run for office in the same manner as they ran for student council in 5th grade.
Sadly, the odds aren’t in our favor.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Truths: Toilet Paper Exams
So, yesterday I made my dreaded annual trip to the Gyne. Is there any woman in the world who looks forward to this?
Okay, maybe if you are dying to become pregnant and think that you are and want the Dr. to confirm it. That I can understand. I remember that day!
But, for all the other years in a woman's life, it is dread. The entire exam is just so berating. It is completely a violation of personal space and yet, we allow ourselves to succumb to it every 12 months. Or, if you are like me - maybe every 18 months because you just never seemed to have time to make that call...
So, I was there yesterday. My heart pounding and my body clammy. You sit in the waiting room attempting to read a magazine, but all you can think about is what is going to happen in the next 15 minutes or next hour depending how on-time your physician is.. Mine is very timely.
You look around the room and there are women everywhere and you wonder, "Are they just as uncomfortable as you?"
I noticed teen girls with their moms and I couldn't help to feel sorry for them. This was probably their first visit. They had no idea what to expect or if it would hurt or if their mom would be in the room with them - which they quietly contemplated in their heads... did they want her in the room because she is their mom and they would feel safe or did they want to go it alone because they would be embarrassed to ask the Dr. about birth control... Tough call.
And then I just felt sorry for them because after this day, they will have to be here another 65 times or so - what an event to look forward to for the rest of their young lives.
They called my name and I put down my magazine that I wasn't reading anyway and walked through the door. There is no turning back now.
I arrive in the room and sit on the infamous table. To the unknowing it seems nice and comfortable. A young girl might think, "What were people talking about when they mentioned the stirrups. I don't see any of that in here."
Oh, to be so naive. How I wish I still was. The reality of the gynecologist is much like the the reality of Santa Claus. You want so badly to show that you are a grown-up and no longer believe and then you realize it was so much better never knowing!
I sit down on the table: camouflaged to make you feel comfortable. The nurse takes my blood pressure which seems like an odd thing to do. I mean there is no way that the reading she gets is my true blood pressure. I mean c'mon... I am about to expose myself in the most personal way to a person I only see once a year... Really? I think my blood pressure is a little heightened.
If the physically exposing deal isn't enough to dread - now comes the scale. You walk over to it...that huge metal thing that always shows you much heavier than that scale you have in your bathroom does.
They don't even give you time to take your shoes off... even though in another 5 minutes you are going to be stark naked. Nope, they weigh you fully clothed and when you see that nurse keep pushing that scale thing to the right, you just want to sink to the ground. Not to mention wish that you hadn't eaten that entire pint of Ben and Jerry's last night.
Okay, so I had one horror done and one to go. The nurse points to the gown on the camouflaged table and says to take all my clothes off and put the gown on with the opening in the front - of course, why leave any dignity? And then mentions, there is another sheet to cover your legs. Gee, how thoughtful.
So, I undress. I fold my clothes neatly on the chair - something I would never do at home and then tuck my undies and bra inside of them. How ridiculous, really. I am about to show a person my most private of things and yet, I don't want them to see my undergarments!
I walk over to that table which is only taunting me with its hidden agenda and I proceed to put the gown on. Its one size fits most and it certainly isn't flattering. I cover up the rest of me - which is most of me because the gown is so awkward.
And then, I sit there. Completely vulnerable. As I look around the room for absolutely anything to read to attempt to get my mind off what is coming next... I look down at myself and realize - I am fricking dressd in nothing more than a large sheet of toilet paper. This gown, as they affectionately call, it is nothing more than one huge sheet of toilet paper. No man would stand for that...
Just as I start to think about how much toilet paper it took to create this beautiful gown, the Dr. knocks and comes in.
So, as you sit there naked under the Charmin, she asks you questions... Its like they believe you feel equal and confident enough in your toilet paper covering to "really talk" about what is going on in your life. The intimate questions you can barely ask your friends while you are dressed fashionably and drinking wine, you are supposed to ask this stranger while you are half naked on a table. A table which is about to become a torture chair.
I say as little as possible. And the exam begins. The Dr. makes small talk and all I can think about is how soon will this be over.
"A little pressure" they always say as you are about to scream bloody murder and then BAM its over.
"You can get dressed now." "See you in 12 months."
Now is when they should take your blood pressure...
"Yep, I say see you next year."
I can hardly wait!
Okay, maybe if you are dying to become pregnant and think that you are and want the Dr. to confirm it. That I can understand. I remember that day!
But, for all the other years in a woman's life, it is dread. The entire exam is just so berating. It is completely a violation of personal space and yet, we allow ourselves to succumb to it every 12 months. Or, if you are like me - maybe every 18 months because you just never seemed to have time to make that call...
So, I was there yesterday. My heart pounding and my body clammy. You sit in the waiting room attempting to read a magazine, but all you can think about is what is going to happen in the next 15 minutes or next hour depending how on-time your physician is.. Mine is very timely.
You look around the room and there are women everywhere and you wonder, "Are they just as uncomfortable as you?"
I noticed teen girls with their moms and I couldn't help to feel sorry for them. This was probably their first visit. They had no idea what to expect or if it would hurt or if their mom would be in the room with them - which they quietly contemplated in their heads... did they want her in the room because she is their mom and they would feel safe or did they want to go it alone because they would be embarrassed to ask the Dr. about birth control... Tough call.
And then I just felt sorry for them because after this day, they will have to be here another 65 times or so - what an event to look forward to for the rest of their young lives.
They called my name and I put down my magazine that I wasn't reading anyway and walked through the door. There is no turning back now.
I arrive in the room and sit on the infamous table. To the unknowing it seems nice and comfortable. A young girl might think, "What were people talking about when they mentioned the stirrups. I don't see any of that in here."
Oh, to be so naive. How I wish I still was. The reality of the gynecologist is much like the the reality of Santa Claus. You want so badly to show that you are a grown-up and no longer believe and then you realize it was so much better never knowing!
I sit down on the table: camouflaged to make you feel comfortable. The nurse takes my blood pressure which seems like an odd thing to do. I mean there is no way that the reading she gets is my true blood pressure. I mean c'mon... I am about to expose myself in the most personal way to a person I only see once a year... Really? I think my blood pressure is a little heightened.
If the physically exposing deal isn't enough to dread - now comes the scale. You walk over to it...that huge metal thing that always shows you much heavier than that scale you have in your bathroom does.
They don't even give you time to take your shoes off... even though in another 5 minutes you are going to be stark naked. Nope, they weigh you fully clothed and when you see that nurse keep pushing that scale thing to the right, you just want to sink to the ground. Not to mention wish that you hadn't eaten that entire pint of Ben and Jerry's last night.
Okay, so I had one horror done and one to go. The nurse points to the gown on the camouflaged table and says to take all my clothes off and put the gown on with the opening in the front - of course, why leave any dignity? And then mentions, there is another sheet to cover your legs. Gee, how thoughtful.
So, I undress. I fold my clothes neatly on the chair - something I would never do at home and then tuck my undies and bra inside of them. How ridiculous, really. I am about to show a person my most private of things and yet, I don't want them to see my undergarments!
I walk over to that table which is only taunting me with its hidden agenda and I proceed to put the gown on. Its one size fits most and it certainly isn't flattering. I cover up the rest of me - which is most of me because the gown is so awkward.
And then, I sit there. Completely vulnerable. As I look around the room for absolutely anything to read to attempt to get my mind off what is coming next... I look down at myself and realize - I am fricking dressd in nothing more than a large sheet of toilet paper. This gown, as they affectionately call, it is nothing more than one huge sheet of toilet paper. No man would stand for that...
Just as I start to think about how much toilet paper it took to create this beautiful gown, the Dr. knocks and comes in.
So, as you sit there naked under the Charmin, she asks you questions... Its like they believe you feel equal and confident enough in your toilet paper covering to "really talk" about what is going on in your life. The intimate questions you can barely ask your friends while you are dressed fashionably and drinking wine, you are supposed to ask this stranger while you are half naked on a table. A table which is about to become a torture chair.
I say as little as possible. And the exam begins. The Dr. makes small talk and all I can think about is how soon will this be over.
"A little pressure" they always say as you are about to scream bloody murder and then BAM its over.
"You can get dressed now." "See you in 12 months."
Now is when they should take your blood pressure...
"Yep, I say see you next year."
I can hardly wait!
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Tails: Too Sheltered?
Have rescues become too elite?
I love and admire animal rescue. It is the most heartbreaking and heartwarming job in the world – to me, at least. For every time I have witnessed cruelty, neglect or even euthanasia, there has been a perfect adoption that made all the pain seem worthwhile.
My most excruciating experience to date has been the mill auctions. Forever I have been blessed with that experience because never have I been more aware of the damage humans do to natural souls.
However, in the passed few weeks some friends and acquaintances have been out looking to adopt a dog from a shelter or rescue and I have again found myself disappointed in our society – only this time I have even found myself disturbed by the practices of animal welfare organizations.
Us, in animal welfare, cringe at the mere sight of a petstore – especially one that advertises, “cute, furry puppies – all breeds.” Pet stores mean puppy mills and well, lets not even go there.
Yet, pet stores also open their doors to ANYONE who wants a puppy. There are no forms to fill out, no criteria to meet, let alone: a home visit. ANYONE with the financial ability (or not even, since you can get a payment plan or charge “it.”) can walk in and leave the store in minutes with a puppy.
My friends and acquaintances have found the process of adpopting a dog a long and tedious road. They have been irritated by inept volunteers, frustrated with the lack of expedient returned phone calls and overall, just depleted by their inability to please everyone enough to be approved to adopt a dog.
They have left shelters in tears, angry and/or speechless. And, this has brought me to thinking: “Have rescues and shelters become elitists? Do we think we are the know it alls for the right home? Most importantly, has our lack of customer service and common sense lost us valuable customers? Worse of all, have we actually ended up inadvertently sending people right to pet stores?”
Just recently, there was an editorial in HSUS. A rescue volunteer was displeased that HSUS allowed people, who didn’t have fenced yards, to adopt from them. HSUS explained that dogs in the city, who didn’t have fenced in yards were actually more exercised and healthier then their suburbian fenced in counterparts. HSUS stressed the importance at looking at the whole application and potential adoptee, not the individual criteria.
My friends are still seeking to adopt even though they are at their wits end with the procedures. Each of these families has at least one healthy dog and a long list of references to verify just how good they are. Yet, they are all still waiting to hear back from organizations.
I know most organizations are 100% volunteer and that funds are low, but I think it is time shelters and rescues see the bigger picture - these animals need homes - not necessarily perfect ones. Just loving families to create memories with.
Sure rescues and shelters are non-profits and usually are broke, but it is still vital to see the organization as a business. And to treat customers with respect, to educate not berate people interested in adopting - trying to do the right thing.
Is it better for a dog to spend a year in a kennel or is it better for that dog to go to a loving family who happens to work outside the home for 7 hours a day? Is it better for a dog to go from foster home to foster home for 6 months or is better to go to a home without a fence and an experienced family who has had dogs their whole lives?
In a world with millions of dogs needing homes, it is time rescues and shelters get off their high horse and begin to enter into reality. Most people wanting to adopt are doing the right thing - lets makes damn sure we don't punish them and in turn reward our very enemy: the petstores.
I love and admire animal rescue. It is the most heartbreaking and heartwarming job in the world – to me, at least. For every time I have witnessed cruelty, neglect or even euthanasia, there has been a perfect adoption that made all the pain seem worthwhile.
My most excruciating experience to date has been the mill auctions. Forever I have been blessed with that experience because never have I been more aware of the damage humans do to natural souls.
However, in the passed few weeks some friends and acquaintances have been out looking to adopt a dog from a shelter or rescue and I have again found myself disappointed in our society – only this time I have even found myself disturbed by the practices of animal welfare organizations.
Us, in animal welfare, cringe at the mere sight of a petstore – especially one that advertises, “cute, furry puppies – all breeds.” Pet stores mean puppy mills and well, lets not even go there.
Yet, pet stores also open their doors to ANYONE who wants a puppy. There are no forms to fill out, no criteria to meet, let alone: a home visit. ANYONE with the financial ability (or not even, since you can get a payment plan or charge “it.”) can walk in and leave the store in minutes with a puppy.
My friends and acquaintances have found the process of adpopting a dog a long and tedious road. They have been irritated by inept volunteers, frustrated with the lack of expedient returned phone calls and overall, just depleted by their inability to please everyone enough to be approved to adopt a dog.
They have left shelters in tears, angry and/or speechless. And, this has brought me to thinking: “Have rescues and shelters become elitists? Do we think we are the know it alls for the right home? Most importantly, has our lack of customer service and common sense lost us valuable customers? Worse of all, have we actually ended up inadvertently sending people right to pet stores?”
Just recently, there was an editorial in HSUS. A rescue volunteer was displeased that HSUS allowed people, who didn’t have fenced yards, to adopt from them. HSUS explained that dogs in the city, who didn’t have fenced in yards were actually more exercised and healthier then their suburbian fenced in counterparts. HSUS stressed the importance at looking at the whole application and potential adoptee, not the individual criteria.
My friends are still seeking to adopt even though they are at their wits end with the procedures. Each of these families has at least one healthy dog and a long list of references to verify just how good they are. Yet, they are all still waiting to hear back from organizations.
I know most organizations are 100% volunteer and that funds are low, but I think it is time shelters and rescues see the bigger picture - these animals need homes - not necessarily perfect ones. Just loving families to create memories with.
Sure rescues and shelters are non-profits and usually are broke, but it is still vital to see the organization as a business. And to treat customers with respect, to educate not berate people interested in adopting - trying to do the right thing.
Is it better for a dog to spend a year in a kennel or is it better for that dog to go to a loving family who happens to work outside the home for 7 hours a day? Is it better for a dog to go from foster home to foster home for 6 months or is better to go to a home without a fence and an experienced family who has had dogs their whole lives?
In a world with millions of dogs needing homes, it is time rescues and shelters get off their high horse and begin to enter into reality. Most people wanting to adopt are doing the right thing - lets makes damn sure we don't punish them and in turn reward our very enemy: the petstores.
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