The conversation I had with the member of Rep. Jack Franks’ staff last night is still circling my mind. And, with the circles have come images that I fear she has envisioned of me: one of those crazy animal people – a member of the highly controversial animal rights organization: PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals). Of which, I am not a member.
People, like me, are often thrown into the category of crazy animal people when we speak our opinions and voice our passions for the welfare of animals.
People tend to conjure images of hippies, protests with red paint thrown on fur coats, or individuals stealing laboratory animals to free them.
It is not to say that I would never even think about participating in any of those acts – I might – but I am SO NOT crazy.
I am a well-educated woman with a Bachelor’s from the University of Illinois and a Master’s from National Louis University in Business and Human Resource Management.
I wasn’t born yesterday and I did not grow up in a circus.
There are a lot of things I care about and have been involved in beyond animal welfare. I write for a local paper and I give press to growing businesses, amazing teenagers, creative artists. I am a volunteer at the school and I participate in civic activities to beautify my town.
I have managed a department and have been responsible for a 300 million dollar company’s personnel issues like wages, benefits, hiring practices, etc.
I am not boasting about any of this – I am merely trying to demonstrate that I am not a whack job screaming bloody murder about replacing Punxsutawney Phil with a robot!
I am also not naively preaching about animal welfare or the plight of puppy mill dogs – because I have seen their horror with my own eyes and that, THAT, is what has made me so passionate about the issue.
That, and the two dogs who are staring up at me as I type this who I saved from the HellI found them in – who I nurtured back to “almost” normal. Who were so sick and so battered that they were afraid to be held.
I don’t just believe that there are horrible places like puppy mills – I KNOW that there are.
When I wrote about not voting for Rep. Jack Franks – it came right from my heart. Not because I have it out for him – but because he let me down and caused me to re-think who I was giving my support to.
I have favored Franks for many years, but when it came down to something that is so close to my soul – I could no longer look the other way. And isn’t that why we have elections – to show our politicians what issues mean something to us?
It is a blizzard here today which will undoubtedly keep a portion of the voters away from the polls. But, to those of us who have a passion for something – some snow on the roads will not stop us.
Especially those of us who have seen puppy mill dogs forced to live in wire cages unprotected from the elements – having to shiver for months on end until spring came.
No, the snow outside will not stop me from using my vote to help those who cannot help themselves: puppy mill dogs. So, many people before me have given their life and even their lives so I can vote and make my voice heard. They never specified what issues were important to vote on – they only specified that we never take our vote for granted.
My two dogs, Penelope and Thorp, puppy mill survivors, are counting on my vote to help change the world they were forced to live in. – My vote is something none of us take for granted.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
Truths: I misrepresented Rep. Jack Franks but not my opinion of him
I just received a call from Rep. Jack Franks' office...(I guess people really do read this blog!) And, I feel as though I owe him a retraction - I still don't owe him a vote. I said that he voted against the puppy mill bill - but what I should have said to be more accurate - is that he removed himself from sponsoring the puppy mill bill. Senator Althoff did not remove herself from the bill and for that I am grateful. She has my support.
The bill never came to a vote so my original comment was inappropriate. I apologize.
But, regardless, the fact remains - ending the suffering of puppy mill dogs is what is important to me and by Rep. Franks actions, the issue was not important to him. And, that is why he lost my vote.
The bill never came to a vote so my original comment was inappropriate. I apologize.
But, regardless, the fact remains - ending the suffering of puppy mill dogs is what is important to me and by Rep. Franks actions, the issue was not important to him. And, that is why he lost my vote.
Truths: Ugly Won't go Away
This weekend I suffered through two huge zits on my chin! I am 39 years old and right now I have the chin of 16 year old girl.
Yes, I tried to pop them – only creating a large blister and a lot of blood. I have tried to dry them up with peroxide. I have washed them – and yes, I keep picking at them.
We had dinner plans with some friends Saturday night and for the first time in at least 10 years I went and bought cover-up! As I applied it to my blemishes, I use that term lightly because they are more like obnoxious scabs, the make-up became all caked on and now, what looked like natural pimples – looked like large, puffy hills on my face.
There was no way to win… And, even at 39, I was self-conscious about my zits all weekend long.
Which symbolically brings me to our election that takes place tomorrow. There has been a lot of turmoil – a lot of negative ads, a lot of slinging crap at the opponents.
IL already has a bad record for employing complete crooks – I believe that we hold the record for governors who have been sent to jail. We are a crooked state…And, like my zits, it seems impossible to rid ourselves of these blemishes and start with a clean slate.
I am at a loss of who to vote for mostly, because I do not trust any politicians. They all say one thing to get elected and then they either do another or they don’t do anything at all.
I realize that the mere opportunity to vote is one that I should hold in high regard as so many other countries fight to the death for this right. It is never anything we should take for granted and it is something we should always exercise whenever we have the chance.
But, I don’t feel like voting. Not because I am lazy but because, deep down, I have serious doubts that it makes any difference.
Sure it makes a difference to who gets in – but no matter who gets in – will leave me disappointed.
I also despise primaries because in IL we are forced to declare ourselves as a party. So, even though I tend to find myself a liberal Republican – tomorrow I have to either be a Democrat or a Republican – or an Independent. But, if I declare Independent there is only one category that has any candidates for me to vote for
It is a crazy system.
I do have one area: animal welfare, which speaks directly to my soul, and right or wrong I use it as my compass. It is something which actually defines the type of person I want to vote for. – Even though, I doubt many politicians give the issue much weight.
This election Jack Franks is running once again for State Representative. He has been in office for quite awhile and is pretty much a Republican dressed in Democrat clothing. He had to be in order to get elected.
I have proudly voted for him many times…but not this time because he voted against the puppy mill bill last year. And, while his correspondence with me was frequent in the beginning, the minute he voted against the puppy mill bill: he never spoke to me again.
So, in turn, I will not be voting for him. Sure, there might be more pressing issues to some – but animal welfare is my issue and when I realize that a politician not only votes against it but then does not have the spine to explain why – they lose my vote.
So, just like the pimples on my face that I want to go away – I want Jack Franks to go away – because his presence has hurt what I believe in.
The rest of the ballot is full of he said, she said crap that I have not patience for. Are there really no human beings who are willing to get up and shout from the rooftops what they do believe in – what the really will accomplish if we elect them to office?
Why have elections become a bloodbath – a give and take of bad mouthing – instead of an opportunity to grandstand beliefs and objectives.
Like the zits on my chin, elections, and, the political arena that they stand for, are only getting worse. No matter how we pick at them or how desperately we want them to go away – they keep holding on – getting uglier each day!
Just as I tried Saturday night – no matter what we use to cover them up – the bad ones keep re-appearing!
Yes, I tried to pop them – only creating a large blister and a lot of blood. I have tried to dry them up with peroxide. I have washed them – and yes, I keep picking at them.
We had dinner plans with some friends Saturday night and for the first time in at least 10 years I went and bought cover-up! As I applied it to my blemishes, I use that term lightly because they are more like obnoxious scabs, the make-up became all caked on and now, what looked like natural pimples – looked like large, puffy hills on my face.
There was no way to win… And, even at 39, I was self-conscious about my zits all weekend long.
Which symbolically brings me to our election that takes place tomorrow. There has been a lot of turmoil – a lot of negative ads, a lot of slinging crap at the opponents.
IL already has a bad record for employing complete crooks – I believe that we hold the record for governors who have been sent to jail. We are a crooked state…And, like my zits, it seems impossible to rid ourselves of these blemishes and start with a clean slate.
I am at a loss of who to vote for mostly, because I do not trust any politicians. They all say one thing to get elected and then they either do another or they don’t do anything at all.
I realize that the mere opportunity to vote is one that I should hold in high regard as so many other countries fight to the death for this right. It is never anything we should take for granted and it is something we should always exercise whenever we have the chance.
But, I don’t feel like voting. Not because I am lazy but because, deep down, I have serious doubts that it makes any difference.
Sure it makes a difference to who gets in – but no matter who gets in – will leave me disappointed.
I also despise primaries because in IL we are forced to declare ourselves as a party. So, even though I tend to find myself a liberal Republican – tomorrow I have to either be a Democrat or a Republican – or an Independent. But, if I declare Independent there is only one category that has any candidates for me to vote for
It is a crazy system.
I do have one area: animal welfare, which speaks directly to my soul, and right or wrong I use it as my compass. It is something which actually defines the type of person I want to vote for. – Even though, I doubt many politicians give the issue much weight.
This election Jack Franks is running once again for State Representative. He has been in office for quite awhile and is pretty much a Republican dressed in Democrat clothing. He had to be in order to get elected.
I have proudly voted for him many times…but not this time because he voted against the puppy mill bill last year. And, while his correspondence with me was frequent in the beginning, the minute he voted against the puppy mill bill: he never spoke to me again.
So, in turn, I will not be voting for him. Sure, there might be more pressing issues to some – but animal welfare is my issue and when I realize that a politician not only votes against it but then does not have the spine to explain why – they lose my vote.
So, just like the pimples on my face that I want to go away – I want Jack Franks to go away – because his presence has hurt what I believe in.
The rest of the ballot is full of he said, she said crap that I have not patience for. Are there really no human beings who are willing to get up and shout from the rooftops what they do believe in – what the really will accomplish if we elect them to office?
Why have elections become a bloodbath – a give and take of bad mouthing – instead of an opportunity to grandstand beliefs and objectives.
Like the zits on my chin, elections, and, the political arena that they stand for, are only getting worse. No matter how we pick at them or how desperately we want them to go away – they keep holding on – getting uglier each day!
Just as I tried Saturday night – no matter what we use to cover them up – the bad ones keep re-appearing!
Friday, January 29, 2010
Truths: It Really Does Go Fast
Yesterday, I was doing laundry. I hate laundry. I hate nearly everything about it. I hate sorting it. I hate putting it in the washer. I hate transferring it to the dryer. I hate hanging up all the things that I don’t want to shrink.
I hate folding the laundry and putting it away. And, I really hate matching the socks! Which we all know never get matched 100%. There are always orphaned socks – always.
So, that being said… I was doing my daughter’s laundry. And, I was hit with a revelation.
No longer was I folding little onesies, cute pink dresses in gingham, or socks so small they would only fit my pinky.
I was folding clothes – t-shirts that I would wear. (No, they would not fit me but I would wear them if they did). There were hip jeans and funky sweatshirts. Name brands like Gap, Hollister, Aeropastle, etc… No more Kmart, Walmart, Target.
Clothes matter now.
But, as I was folding all of these cool clothes – it hit me. It certainly does not seem like that much time has passed since I was scrubbing out formula from a brand new Gymboree outfit. It seems like yesterday, I was using Dreft detergent and washing all of the new clothes before my daughter ever wore them.
Where did all of that time go?
All of those days, months, years that I longed to be passed the many frustrating stages of growing up. Anxiously waiting until she would sleep through the night, when she would sit-up, when she would crawl, when she would walk, when she would drink from a sippee cup, when she could feed herself, when she would be potty-trained, when she would go to pre-school so I could have a break, when she would start Kindergarten, when she would dress herself… always waiting for what was next and sadly, never really taking time to enjoy what she was already doing.
Now, I am folding these clothes and wondering where my baby went.
She came home from school yesterday and told me, “Mom, next week we have the ‘talk’ and ‘THE movie.”
Yes, gone are the diapers and here come the feminine hygiene products. Where the Hell did all that time go?
Last Sunday, after seeing my daughter flounder with reading – we went to Amazon and searched for some books. Abby has always had a hard time finding a series that she enjoyed. Okay, the truth is – she doesn’t really like to read. And, we have been desperate to find some author who would finally hold her attention and inspire her to read.
My last ditch effort was Judy Blume so I ordered “Are You There God? It Is Me Margaret.”
Yes, I have my own selfish reasons for this – I am hoping it will spark “that” conversation. A segue to all those things no one really wants to address… And, okay, a part of me, hopes the book will teach her everything she needs to know and I can just bow out of the whole thing.
Yes, at 39 years old, I am very uncomfortable having that talk. My mom never had it with me and I don’t know what to say.
I should know what to say – because I was a teenager who participated in things that I shouldn’t have… I am not naïve to the realities of junior high and high school. And, I really wish that I would have had a more open relationship with my mom.
But it is hard… It is hard to realize that Abby isn’t wearing onesies anymore, that she isn’t just potty trained and walking – she is about to enter puberty – she is about to go to 6th grade where boyfriends and kissing take place.
There are going to be notes passed and texting and school dances. She is going to like a boy who won’t like her back and her heart will break many times. She is going to question herself and her beliefs and she is going to make decisions that could change her life forever.
Maybe that is why the conversation is so difficult because it feels like there is so much riding on what I say or don’t say. How much is too much? How little is too little? How much is about abstinence and how much is on protection? How stern should I be – and how open should I be so that she is comfortable coming to me for help?
Right now, she seems so immature, so naïve… realizing that in just 6 months when she goes to Jr. High she will be overwhelmed by issues that she never dreamt of – is gut wrenching.
For the first time, I am not anxious to see her advance to the next stage of growing up.
As I folded the last shirt and brought the laundry to her room – decorated with stuffed animals and a tree mural – I lost my breath.
Looking at the new comforter and accessories piled in bags in the corner for her “new” room, I realize change is coming…whether I want it to or not.
I hate folding the laundry and putting it away. And, I really hate matching the socks! Which we all know never get matched 100%. There are always orphaned socks – always.
So, that being said… I was doing my daughter’s laundry. And, I was hit with a revelation.
No longer was I folding little onesies, cute pink dresses in gingham, or socks so small they would only fit my pinky.
I was folding clothes – t-shirts that I would wear. (No, they would not fit me but I would wear them if they did). There were hip jeans and funky sweatshirts. Name brands like Gap, Hollister, Aeropastle, etc… No more Kmart, Walmart, Target.
Clothes matter now.
But, as I was folding all of these cool clothes – it hit me. It certainly does not seem like that much time has passed since I was scrubbing out formula from a brand new Gymboree outfit. It seems like yesterday, I was using Dreft detergent and washing all of the new clothes before my daughter ever wore them.
Where did all of that time go?
All of those days, months, years that I longed to be passed the many frustrating stages of growing up. Anxiously waiting until she would sleep through the night, when she would sit-up, when she would crawl, when she would walk, when she would drink from a sippee cup, when she could feed herself, when she would be potty-trained, when she would go to pre-school so I could have a break, when she would start Kindergarten, when she would dress herself… always waiting for what was next and sadly, never really taking time to enjoy what she was already doing.
Now, I am folding these clothes and wondering where my baby went.
She came home from school yesterday and told me, “Mom, next week we have the ‘talk’ and ‘THE movie.”
Yes, gone are the diapers and here come the feminine hygiene products. Where the Hell did all that time go?
Last Sunday, after seeing my daughter flounder with reading – we went to Amazon and searched for some books. Abby has always had a hard time finding a series that she enjoyed. Okay, the truth is – she doesn’t really like to read. And, we have been desperate to find some author who would finally hold her attention and inspire her to read.
My last ditch effort was Judy Blume so I ordered “Are You There God? It Is Me Margaret.”
Yes, I have my own selfish reasons for this – I am hoping it will spark “that” conversation. A segue to all those things no one really wants to address… And, okay, a part of me, hopes the book will teach her everything she needs to know and I can just bow out of the whole thing.
Yes, at 39 years old, I am very uncomfortable having that talk. My mom never had it with me and I don’t know what to say.
I should know what to say – because I was a teenager who participated in things that I shouldn’t have… I am not naïve to the realities of junior high and high school. And, I really wish that I would have had a more open relationship with my mom.
But it is hard… It is hard to realize that Abby isn’t wearing onesies anymore, that she isn’t just potty trained and walking – she is about to enter puberty – she is about to go to 6th grade where boyfriends and kissing take place.
There are going to be notes passed and texting and school dances. She is going to like a boy who won’t like her back and her heart will break many times. She is going to question herself and her beliefs and she is going to make decisions that could change her life forever.
Maybe that is why the conversation is so difficult because it feels like there is so much riding on what I say or don’t say. How much is too much? How little is too little? How much is about abstinence and how much is on protection? How stern should I be – and how open should I be so that she is comfortable coming to me for help?
Right now, she seems so immature, so naïve… realizing that in just 6 months when she goes to Jr. High she will be overwhelmed by issues that she never dreamt of – is gut wrenching.
For the first time, I am not anxious to see her advance to the next stage of growing up.
As I folded the last shirt and brought the laundry to her room – decorated with stuffed animals and a tree mural – I lost my breath.
Looking at the new comforter and accessories piled in bags in the corner for her “new” room, I realize change is coming…whether I want it to or not.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Truths: “Ripped from the Headlines”
I was just driving back from taking my four dogs to the groomer. Not only is it a stressful event for them and me – but the bill is going to break the bank! However, I cannot have four hairy dogs without giving them the basic necessities: baths!
On my way home with the radio playing – the announcers were discussing a recent newsworthy bit out of Georgia. There is a woman, who after seeing her son’s report card,told him to get out his hamster and made him kill it by smashing it with a hammer.
I cannot even fathom the reality of this! Everyone calling in agreed that the child should be removed from the mother’s care and the mother should go to jail for causing such an emotionally tragic event and for the inhumane treatment of the hamster.
Not one called and said she should be able to keep her son after what she did. Everyone expressed completed contempt for the woman and all agreed that she was fostering a horrendous future for the child. Would he end up the next serial killer? What did she do to him besides this? It would be hard to believe that this was the first time she acted out so cruelly.
It is an absolute horrid newstory…and yet, it certainly is not one of the first stories detailing parents being cruel and unjust to their children. And, even sadder, is that there is more of a chance that this woman will end keeping her son or getting him back – than losing him altogether. Because, that is the kind of society we, embarrassingly, live in.
Stories, like these, make my stomach turn and cause me to re-examine our society’s morals… What normal person would even think of this form of punishment for a bad report card? How about no TV or being grounded for a week? Wouldn’t that be more of the norm – shouldn’t it be more of the norm?
We are afraid to let kids lose in organized sports and yet, we turn a blind eye to such unimaginable situations some kids are forced to endure. What the Hell is wrong with us?
A few of my dear friends are giving serious consideration to opening up their homes and their families to children of Haiti. They are having long talks at the dinner tables about the possibilities of adopting one of the thousands of children left without parents.
My friends have wonderful, stable lives that they could share with these children. They could provide not only the bare necessities but, a lifetime of love and opportunity.
They don’t seem to care about the age or the sex of the child – they just want to “do their part” – to do what feels right to them – all out of the good of their hearts.
I applaud their generosity, their unconditional love. I admire their intent. What, would seem to me a selfless act of endearing kindness – is something they consider as a gift to themselves – a child to love and to care for.
So, when I hear about parents who are abusing their children – like this hamster mom in Georgia – I want to scream from the rooftops – because this idiot of a mother gets to pro-create whenever she wants and gets to bring children into this world who she is only going to neglect and abuse.
While, my friends, who are loving parents will be going through yards of red tape to adopt a needy child in Haiti. They will have to jump through hoops to show that they are “worthy” of one of these children and sadly, it could take months, years before a homeless child of Haiti would actually enter their home and become part of their family.
And, yet, this yahoo of a mother gets to keep her kid, continue to abuse him AND she can have more children whenever she wants.
I am not saying that I have the answers – and I don’t mean to sound like we need some socialist or dictator type government that tells us what to do – but there must be some way to create a more sensible playing field. Some type of fairness to discourage those who are unfit from having any more children and to encourage loving people to adopt by making it easier.
While the families here in the US are desperately trying to bring Haitian children here to love and care for, thousands of orphaned Haitian children are eagerly awaiting a home – a family to love them, a bed to sleep in, a roof over their head and warm food to nourish them – and they will have to wait months to get it.
There is no way that it makes sense.
All while some nasty mother in Georgia has her son smash his beloved pet with a hamster over a bad report card…
Something has to give.
On my way home with the radio playing – the announcers were discussing a recent newsworthy bit out of Georgia. There is a woman, who after seeing her son’s report card,told him to get out his hamster and made him kill it by smashing it with a hammer.
I cannot even fathom the reality of this! Everyone calling in agreed that the child should be removed from the mother’s care and the mother should go to jail for causing such an emotionally tragic event and for the inhumane treatment of the hamster.
Not one called and said she should be able to keep her son after what she did. Everyone expressed completed contempt for the woman and all agreed that she was fostering a horrendous future for the child. Would he end up the next serial killer? What did she do to him besides this? It would be hard to believe that this was the first time she acted out so cruelly.
It is an absolute horrid newstory…and yet, it certainly is not one of the first stories detailing parents being cruel and unjust to their children. And, even sadder, is that there is more of a chance that this woman will end keeping her son or getting him back – than losing him altogether. Because, that is the kind of society we, embarrassingly, live in.
Stories, like these, make my stomach turn and cause me to re-examine our society’s morals… What normal person would even think of this form of punishment for a bad report card? How about no TV or being grounded for a week? Wouldn’t that be more of the norm – shouldn’t it be more of the norm?
We are afraid to let kids lose in organized sports and yet, we turn a blind eye to such unimaginable situations some kids are forced to endure. What the Hell is wrong with us?
A few of my dear friends are giving serious consideration to opening up their homes and their families to children of Haiti. They are having long talks at the dinner tables about the possibilities of adopting one of the thousands of children left without parents.
My friends have wonderful, stable lives that they could share with these children. They could provide not only the bare necessities but, a lifetime of love and opportunity.
They don’t seem to care about the age or the sex of the child – they just want to “do their part” – to do what feels right to them – all out of the good of their hearts.
I applaud their generosity, their unconditional love. I admire their intent. What, would seem to me a selfless act of endearing kindness – is something they consider as a gift to themselves – a child to love and to care for.
So, when I hear about parents who are abusing their children – like this hamster mom in Georgia – I want to scream from the rooftops – because this idiot of a mother gets to pro-create whenever she wants and gets to bring children into this world who she is only going to neglect and abuse.
While, my friends, who are loving parents will be going through yards of red tape to adopt a needy child in Haiti. They will have to jump through hoops to show that they are “worthy” of one of these children and sadly, it could take months, years before a homeless child of Haiti would actually enter their home and become part of their family.
And, yet, this yahoo of a mother gets to keep her kid, continue to abuse him AND she can have more children whenever she wants.
I am not saying that I have the answers – and I don’t mean to sound like we need some socialist or dictator type government that tells us what to do – but there must be some way to create a more sensible playing field. Some type of fairness to discourage those who are unfit from having any more children and to encourage loving people to adopt by making it easier.
While the families here in the US are desperately trying to bring Haitian children here to love and care for, thousands of orphaned Haitian children are eagerly awaiting a home – a family to love them, a bed to sleep in, a roof over their head and warm food to nourish them – and they will have to wait months to get it.
There is no way that it makes sense.
All while some nasty mother in Georgia has her son smash his beloved pet with a hamster over a bad report card…
Something has to give.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Tails: A Necessary Commitment
Yesterday, Thorp, my Chinese Crested Powder Puff dog – the one who was a puppy mill breeding dog for over 4 years sat on my lap.
Who cares…
It is not that he has never sat on my lap before it is that he reminded me of something that is really important to the both of us… when we first rescued him – he was a mess. Not just physically but emotionally, he was a train wreck!
He would shake constantly anytime he was introduced to a new room in the house. He had no idea of how to use the stairs. For a long time, he would run to laundry room when he got scared.
He was terrified of people and was completely unsure of the outside. Grass was foreign to him and let’s not even talk about his housetraining issues!
Nearly all puppy mill survivors who are rescued come with this type of baggage. But, the thing is – he was my first and that made a huge impact on me.
I would cry when I would wake up and see him next to me – thinking about what he survived and feeling horrible for the ones still stuck in the unimaginable horror.
As time went on… Thorp followed me everywhere and any chance he got he was sitting on my lap. Eventually, he started to understand that people really were nice and he gained self-confidence. (We won’t talk about the house training…still not necessarily 100%)
It will be 2 years in March since I rescued him for $60.00 at a puppy mill auction. And, I think both of us have grown leaps and bounds.
The thing is – as Thorp has evolved it has become increasingly apparent that he would make an outstanding therapy dog. He gives love so eagerly and I know that he would never hurt a soul.
I truly believe that Thorp was born to be a therapy dog. He is filled with a tenderness that amazes me.
Once I knew that this was his fate in life – I started looking in organizations who certify therapy dogs to work in hospitals, nursing homes, libraries, etc.
Thorp and I went to obedience school to get him started and we attended a class on what it takes to be a therapy dog.
BUT…then Penelope came along – my 2nd mill dog survivor and the dynamics of our family changed and Penelope became the center of attention because, she too, was a train wreck.
Thorp and I derailed and the possibility of becoming a therapy dog slipped away.
So, yesterday, when Thorp sat on my lap – he reminded me that he wants to be a therapy dog. He layed next to me, looking into my eyes – telling me it was time.
With Penelope adjusted and no more mill dogs coming – it is time. So, I looked up the next testing dates and have planned to go to a trainer to get Thorp and me up to speed.
By this summer, Thorp will be a therapy dog.
However, the last 24 hours also reminded me the importance of staying on track – of reminding yourself what your goals are and that it is so easy to lose sight of them in the day to day grind.
For me, beyond the desire to become active with Thorp as a therapy dog – I want to write a book – a book I started 2 years ago. And even though I have well over 100 pages written – I have let so many things come between me and finishing it.
It is hard to prioritize so many things in life – but all too often, I think we forego our real dreams and busy ourselves with what is really less meaningful.
Yesterday, Thorp not only reminded me that it was time to complete the therapy dog certification – he reminded me that it was time to make what matters to me important and to get working on the things that I allowed myself to drown out. Not tomorrow, but today.
Who cares…
It is not that he has never sat on my lap before it is that he reminded me of something that is really important to the both of us… when we first rescued him – he was a mess. Not just physically but emotionally, he was a train wreck!
He would shake constantly anytime he was introduced to a new room in the house. He had no idea of how to use the stairs. For a long time, he would run to laundry room when he got scared.
He was terrified of people and was completely unsure of the outside. Grass was foreign to him and let’s not even talk about his housetraining issues!
Nearly all puppy mill survivors who are rescued come with this type of baggage. But, the thing is – he was my first and that made a huge impact on me.
I would cry when I would wake up and see him next to me – thinking about what he survived and feeling horrible for the ones still stuck in the unimaginable horror.
As time went on… Thorp followed me everywhere and any chance he got he was sitting on my lap. Eventually, he started to understand that people really were nice and he gained self-confidence. (We won’t talk about the house training…still not necessarily 100%)
It will be 2 years in March since I rescued him for $60.00 at a puppy mill auction. And, I think both of us have grown leaps and bounds.
The thing is – as Thorp has evolved it has become increasingly apparent that he would make an outstanding therapy dog. He gives love so eagerly and I know that he would never hurt a soul.
I truly believe that Thorp was born to be a therapy dog. He is filled with a tenderness that amazes me.
Once I knew that this was his fate in life – I started looking in organizations who certify therapy dogs to work in hospitals, nursing homes, libraries, etc.
Thorp and I went to obedience school to get him started and we attended a class on what it takes to be a therapy dog.
BUT…then Penelope came along – my 2nd mill dog survivor and the dynamics of our family changed and Penelope became the center of attention because, she too, was a train wreck.
Thorp and I derailed and the possibility of becoming a therapy dog slipped away.
So, yesterday, when Thorp sat on my lap – he reminded me that he wants to be a therapy dog. He layed next to me, looking into my eyes – telling me it was time.
With Penelope adjusted and no more mill dogs coming – it is time. So, I looked up the next testing dates and have planned to go to a trainer to get Thorp and me up to speed.
By this summer, Thorp will be a therapy dog.
However, the last 24 hours also reminded me the importance of staying on track – of reminding yourself what your goals are and that it is so easy to lose sight of them in the day to day grind.
For me, beyond the desire to become active with Thorp as a therapy dog – I want to write a book – a book I started 2 years ago. And even though I have well over 100 pages written – I have let so many things come between me and finishing it.
It is hard to prioritize so many things in life – but all too often, I think we forego our real dreams and busy ourselves with what is really less meaningful.
Yesterday, Thorp not only reminded me that it was time to complete the therapy dog certification – he reminded me that it was time to make what matters to me important and to get working on the things that I allowed myself to drown out. Not tomorrow, but today.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Tails and Truths: Random Thoughts
I am at a loss for a definitive blog today - but I do have some updates on previous ones.
You might recall my preachy sermon on the idiocies of the adoption process when looking to save an animal in need. The cumbersome paperwork, the nerve racking home visits, the agony of being denied. While I am in rescue - I am ashamed of what some of the requirements are just for someone who wants to give the dog a second chance - possibly its only chance.
I, recently, gave thought to getting involved in a breed specific rescue - and when I read their adoption requirements - I changed my mind... I figured if I would not be allowed to adopt from them (and I wouldn't) how can I volunteer there and expect people to listen to me when I would have deny them an adoption.
A friend of mine sent me this link to a wonderful blog today - and while the video clip in it will make you laugh - it brings (sad) tears to me eyes.
http://btoellner.typepad.com/kcdogblog/2010/01/improving-customer-service-imperative-to-increasing-adoptions.html
How true...how very sad...
*****
My blog yesterday was about the way we protect our kids from loss in sports - such as not keeping score... You might also remember a blog I did a few weeks ago about the enlightening experience I had while watching amazing individuals with disabilities play great basketball...
Well, last night there was another game during my daughter's practice - and once again - the players were incredible. So kind to one another and so excited to play. And, they are GOOD - really GOOD...
But my point is - the one team was up by over 30 points and they still kept keeping score... and right before the buzzer went off the winning team scored, yet, one more basket.
They never turned off the scoreboard when the points became so far apart - and when the winning team scored that last basket even though they were up by a landslide - the other team did not whine that it was unsportsmanlike conduct "to rub the loss in their face." (Like the Cowboys did this week when playing the Vikings).
No, these players played with dignity, integrity and utter grace. They played the game like the game should be played.
We often protect individuals with special needs - we have this innate feeling to shelter them - and yet, here they were facing every possible reality of playing a sport... while our other not-challenged - not to mention - our professional players (making millions) are the ones crying about losing...
I say, "Suck it up!"
*********
Here is one last funny for the day... Me and cooking. They do not go together. I think I have alluded to this before - but here is a bit more of the reality...
I was cooking last night - something I do about twice a week... and this is why. I was taking the chicken and pork chops (I don't eat anything that comes from a pig) and I burnt myself... I burnt myself on the pan because I only use a thin towel to take it out...and then while I was trying to remove the chicken from the aluminum foil, I burnt myself again by placing my finger on the foil (I guess that gets hot, too). That one really hurt.
On top of that - I had left the metal spoon in the rice pot and when I went to stir the rice - yep, the spoon was scorching.
With the 3rd scream of the night - my husband finally came over and finished for me... My fingers were on fire - and I was running them under cold water.
"This is why I don't cook!" I said to Bill... Who I am certain shook his head and rolled his eyes while I wasn't looking.
He knows better... Once when were renovating our cabin and the guy came to install the stove - my husband told him - "don't worry about it working - my wife only got it because a stove should be in the kitchen - she will never use it."
I have used it...and I am positive that I burnt myself then, too.
I am an educated person... and yet, cooking is beyond me. It always sounds so heartwarming - brings people together for a great meal, etc... But, I find myself watching others eat while I soak my finger(s) in ice water. Like I did last night!
You might recall my preachy sermon on the idiocies of the adoption process when looking to save an animal in need. The cumbersome paperwork, the nerve racking home visits, the agony of being denied. While I am in rescue - I am ashamed of what some of the requirements are just for someone who wants to give the dog a second chance - possibly its only chance.
I, recently, gave thought to getting involved in a breed specific rescue - and when I read their adoption requirements - I changed my mind... I figured if I would not be allowed to adopt from them (and I wouldn't) how can I volunteer there and expect people to listen to me when I would have deny them an adoption.
A friend of mine sent me this link to a wonderful blog today - and while the video clip in it will make you laugh - it brings (sad) tears to me eyes.
http://btoellner.typepad.com/kcdogblog/2010/01/improving-customer-service-imperative-to-increasing-adoptions.html
How true...how very sad...
*****
My blog yesterday was about the way we protect our kids from loss in sports - such as not keeping score... You might also remember a blog I did a few weeks ago about the enlightening experience I had while watching amazing individuals with disabilities play great basketball...
Well, last night there was another game during my daughter's practice - and once again - the players were incredible. So kind to one another and so excited to play. And, they are GOOD - really GOOD...
But my point is - the one team was up by over 30 points and they still kept keeping score... and right before the buzzer went off the winning team scored, yet, one more basket.
They never turned off the scoreboard when the points became so far apart - and when the winning team scored that last basket even though they were up by a landslide - the other team did not whine that it was unsportsmanlike conduct "to rub the loss in their face." (Like the Cowboys did this week when playing the Vikings).
No, these players played with dignity, integrity and utter grace. They played the game like the game should be played.
We often protect individuals with special needs - we have this innate feeling to shelter them - and yet, here they were facing every possible reality of playing a sport... while our other not-challenged - not to mention - our professional players (making millions) are the ones crying about losing...
I say, "Suck it up!"
*********
Here is one last funny for the day... Me and cooking. They do not go together. I think I have alluded to this before - but here is a bit more of the reality...
I was cooking last night - something I do about twice a week... and this is why. I was taking the chicken and pork chops (I don't eat anything that comes from a pig) and I burnt myself... I burnt myself on the pan because I only use a thin towel to take it out...and then while I was trying to remove the chicken from the aluminum foil, I burnt myself again by placing my finger on the foil (I guess that gets hot, too). That one really hurt.
On top of that - I had left the metal spoon in the rice pot and when I went to stir the rice - yep, the spoon was scorching.
With the 3rd scream of the night - my husband finally came over and finished for me... My fingers were on fire - and I was running them under cold water.
"This is why I don't cook!" I said to Bill... Who I am certain shook his head and rolled his eyes while I wasn't looking.
He knows better... Once when were renovating our cabin and the guy came to install the stove - my husband told him - "don't worry about it working - my wife only got it because a stove should be in the kitchen - she will never use it."
I have used it...and I am positive that I burnt myself then, too.
I am an educated person... and yet, cooking is beyond me. It always sounds so heartwarming - brings people together for a great meal, etc... But, I find myself watching others eat while I soak my finger(s) in ice water. Like I did last night!
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