Ever wonder what it would be like to fight City Hall – or, okay, maybe just your “friendly” neighborhood association?
Well, I am about to find out!
After 5 years of chasing the dogs through neighbors’ yards or screaming for them to come back after running out into the street towards other dogs or people walking by, we decided that we should get a fence.
A few days ago, I had the first “fence guy” come out and start giving ideas on how to run the fence and of course, how much it will cost.
We have a rather large backyard at least an acre and, well, I didn’t want to put up my first born to pay for the fence!
He had great ideas and together we mapped out the perfect fence.
That is, until, my nice (and I mean that) neighbor made sure I knew that all fences had to be approved by the association board. Did I mention that he also happens to be the President of the board?
After the “fence guy” drove away, I was left to chase the dogs out into the prairie where my neighbor was throwing seed to embellish the area with more flowers, etc.
He wanted to know why I didn’t want to put in an invisible fence…Well, let’s just say that that could be a blog all of its own.
I explained that I will not put one of those collars on my 10 pound Shih Tzu or my 15 pound Chinese Crested. Not only do I feel that they are much too small to be trained in the manner of electric shock – I cannot fathom the adverse reaction it would have on their already fragile emotional states after what they endured for years in a puppy mill.
I am not alone in these beliefs. Animal welfare people all feel the same about invisible fences. In fact, I had both Shih Tzu rescue and Chinese Crested rescue send me their adoption applications which both specify they will NOT adopt to people with invisible fences.
I didn’t just make this shit up.
Sure, for bigger dogs who don’t have jaded pasts it is a feasible idea – but not for me.
My neighbor loves nature and expressed that he would just like to see things wide open… and doesn’t mind my dogs being in his yard. Well, I do… and unless he wants to spend hours standing out there watching them and waiting on pins and needles for their next ambush on innocent walkers and runners – then, I don’t think it matters that he doesn’t care.
Minutes before my neighbor attempted to squash my dream – I had even said to the “fence guy,” “This fence is not about looks – it, literally, will change our lives.”
I could go on and on about all of the rules already broke in our neighborhood – the fences that are in, the businesses being operated from homes, the landscaping done without permission…on and on…
I have already put together a rather thick packet in support of my fence. My husband says I am nuts – that I didn’t have to get so worked up over it. Maybe he is right – maybe it was PMS – but the point remains – what is good for the other geese in this neighbor is good for the gander!
As I walked (okay spied) my neighborhood for fences, I found all kinds. Even one that is a split rail and has chicken wire stapled to it…very becoming… There are privacy fences and unpainted worn fences, there are broken fences - there are all kinds of fences.
And, quite frankly, none as nice as the one we want to put in. Ours is a beautiful black iron gated fence that is completely unobtrusive to its surroundings. I am not looking for privacy or even to keep my neighbors out – I just want to keep my dogs in!
I know why there are restrictions for a neighborhood – no one wants to live next to some jethro – with a yard full of used cars and a house with boarded up windows – underwear hanging on the back clothesline. I get that… But, I don’t get how common sense can be thrown to the wayside.
Most of all, I don’t want this to affect our relationships with our neighbors…and sadly, fences usually “don’t make good neighbors.” But, if they can’t see the good in our fence – I really do think it could come back and literally, bite them in the butt!
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Truths: The “other side” of Screaming
Just when I think I can’t scream anymore – a miracle happens.
After school, yesterday, Abby asked if we could play basketball in the driveway.
It was a beautiful day, at least in IL, 60 degrees outside, the sun shining. Everyone in need of a warm spring day after a cold winter.
I agreed right away – fresh air could do me good.
We played “horse” for a long time -each of us smiling and laughing.
After all the screaming the day before, I felt a sense of guilt. I really do have a good kid. I have no idea where all the years went, but here we are playing in the driveway and having fun together.
The only screams you hear are “Good shot!”
After playing basketball for a while, Abby asked if we could throw a football.
Absolutely. I love football.
She put the basketball – AWAY - and got out the football.
We began throwing it back and forth and within a minute or two, she was actually talking about her life.
She was talking about her friends and some of the hardships they have had to deal with lately. She was talking about how she was doing in school. She was talking about anything and everything!
As our babies turn into adolescents, we all become concerned with how we are going to stay in touch with their lives. How we will get them to open up to us.
We fear that they will just grow apart from us. And what used to be, “I am going over to Emily’s house to play babies,” becomes, “I am going out.”
No details.
As the football flew from one side of the yard to the other – I was contemplating all of this in my head. Mostly, my heart was smiling.
One, because after all the yelling and the anger the last 24 hours, we were outside enjoying each other’s company – completely passed all the ugly that had taken place.
Two, because I realized that this small act of togetherness is all it is going to truly take to be a part of my daughter’s world.
No, it might not always be as easy as playing outside together – but it really is as easy as stopping my own busy life and taking time to just be with my daughter.
Spending time doing something nearly mindless – so that there is this void in time where she feels safe and comfortable to really talk and share.
I have to admit that I began to feel ridiculous for all my yelling over such petty stuff the day before.
This moment – is the kind of moment that matters. The kind of moment where all the hard work of parenting pays off. It is almost like surviving labor and holding your baby for the first time.
Sure it was Hell – but look at what you did.
For some unfortunate reason, moments like yesterday seem too infrequent – too scarce. And moments of screaming and anger take precedence.
Yesterday was amazing and the beauty of it will have a special place in my heart.
After a few hours, it was time for Abby to go to her dad’s… I felt a sense of sadness and pride… we shared something important: real time together.
Perhaps, it is time to wave the peace flag and let go of all the screaming, I thought, as they pulled out of the driveway.
Until, I walked into the house to see a trail of candy wrappers from the kitchen and a coat and shoes on the floor of the foyer (right next to the coat rack).
I guess there IS a place in parenting for screaming!
After school, yesterday, Abby asked if we could play basketball in the driveway.
It was a beautiful day, at least in IL, 60 degrees outside, the sun shining. Everyone in need of a warm spring day after a cold winter.
I agreed right away – fresh air could do me good.
We played “horse” for a long time -each of us smiling and laughing.
After all the screaming the day before, I felt a sense of guilt. I really do have a good kid. I have no idea where all the years went, but here we are playing in the driveway and having fun together.
The only screams you hear are “Good shot!”
After playing basketball for a while, Abby asked if we could throw a football.
Absolutely. I love football.
She put the basketball – AWAY - and got out the football.
We began throwing it back and forth and within a minute or two, she was actually talking about her life.
She was talking about her friends and some of the hardships they have had to deal with lately. She was talking about how she was doing in school. She was talking about anything and everything!
As our babies turn into adolescents, we all become concerned with how we are going to stay in touch with their lives. How we will get them to open up to us.
We fear that they will just grow apart from us. And what used to be, “I am going over to Emily’s house to play babies,” becomes, “I am going out.”
No details.
As the football flew from one side of the yard to the other – I was contemplating all of this in my head. Mostly, my heart was smiling.
One, because after all the yelling and the anger the last 24 hours, we were outside enjoying each other’s company – completely passed all the ugly that had taken place.
Two, because I realized that this small act of togetherness is all it is going to truly take to be a part of my daughter’s world.
No, it might not always be as easy as playing outside together – but it really is as easy as stopping my own busy life and taking time to just be with my daughter.
Spending time doing something nearly mindless – so that there is this void in time where she feels safe and comfortable to really talk and share.
I have to admit that I began to feel ridiculous for all my yelling over such petty stuff the day before.
This moment – is the kind of moment that matters. The kind of moment where all the hard work of parenting pays off. It is almost like surviving labor and holding your baby for the first time.
Sure it was Hell – but look at what you did.
For some unfortunate reason, moments like yesterday seem too infrequent – too scarce. And moments of screaming and anger take precedence.
Yesterday was amazing and the beauty of it will have a special place in my heart.
After a few hours, it was time for Abby to go to her dad’s… I felt a sense of sadness and pride… we shared something important: real time together.
Perhaps, it is time to wave the peace flag and let go of all the screaming, I thought, as they pulled out of the driveway.
Until, I walked into the house to see a trail of candy wrappers from the kitchen and a coat and shoes on the floor of the foyer (right next to the coat rack).
I guess there IS a place in parenting for screaming!
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Truths: There Must be Something Else other than Screaming…
Let me preface this blog with: I am not trying for Mother of the Year Award because I already know I won’t get it.
A few weeks ago on the comedy show, “The Middle,” the premise of the story was how if the mom didn’t scream, things didn’t get done. She made a pact not to scream and in the end – her point was proven; without her screaming, one kid got lice, one kid forgot to babysit, and one forgot to study for a big test!
See, as much as us moms hate the fact that we are always screaming – it appears to be our only hope of raising responsible children (who we hope, one day, won’t scream at their kids all of the time).
But, what happenes when screaming isn’t enough? Then what?
My daughter, whom I love with all of my heart, is driving me NUTS! Her level of responsibility is beyond comprehension when it comes to picking up after herself and keeping her room organized.
At this point I find myself screaming at a wall – and I am about to go hoarse.
Here is how yesterday went… I cleaned the whole house: making piles for everyone’s stuff that was lying around. Abby’s pile being the biggest, of course. What gets me the most mad is when it is wrappers and garbage. Which there seems to be more of than pillows on our sofa!
When Abby got home, she threw her coat on the floor and immediately grabbed a snack and left the wrappers on the counter – right next to the garbage can.
She went upstairs to her room and I brought her, her pile of stuff. To which she sighed, “Ugh, not more stuff to put away?”
Are you kidding me….
“Yeah,” I said, “More stuff – if you would just put it away, I wouldn’t have all these piles for you.”
I walked away…yes, angry…
I took a stab at picking up in the mud room – only to find my arms filled with Abby’s stuff: pairs of shoes, sweatshirts, etc.
And, I brought them up to her room – only to hear her sigh, again.
This time I just threw them on the floor and said, “Put them away right now!”
We took the dogs for a walk and when we returned to the driveway she took all of the leashes off and then placed them on the porch.
“Why would you do that? Why wouldn’t you just put them away?” I yelled.
To which she blankly stared back and said, “I don’t know.”
Last night after dinner (after telling her to bring her dishes to the sink) she went out to play with a friend. (today, I see the chalk is still sitting where she left it)
Like a million other people we were watching Idol last night. Abby sitting on the couch eating the Girl Scout Cookies we just got…and I went to change the laundry. Only to see by the front door table – her socks and wrappers!
Okay, I lost it a little bit. I took the socks and the wrappers and went over to the couch and just threw them at her. (they were soft, no chance of injury)
“This is what I mean,” I screamed, “Throw them away right now!”
How many times had I screamed in just one day? And, how many times did I scream about the same thing? What the Hell am I doing wrong?
This morning as Abby scurried around the house looking to find everything green she could wear, I was making my bed and picking up my room.
I walked downstairs and as we were about to leave – I see that she left her coat and one of her purses on a chair in the kitchen.
Again I scream, “That is exactly what I am talking about – put it away right now!”
She looked at me as though I was crazy…walked upstairs and put them away.
It was time to leave for school. Thank God – or I am certain DCFS would have been on their way.
I had to run upstairs to get my shoes and happened to look in her room – only to see the towels she used to shower strewn across the room, the coat and purse she brought up – on the floor, closet light on, armoire doors open, miscellaneous crap through-out!
Now, I will say this – when she went to bed last night – her room was clean. How the Hell can it get trashed in one hour?
I walked downstairs, wanting desperately to approach the issue differently… So, I calmly said, “I just don’t know what to say anymore. Your room is a mess and I can’t take it – I can’t look at it any longer, something has got to change.”
Finally, a look of guilt and a sense of remorse.
As I walked around the car, feeling momentarily successful, all I could think about was, “what if there is a bomb at school or a shooting or a fire today? And, all Abby will remember is me yelling at her about cleaning up her room? I would feel bad the rest of my life.”
Ugh… we drove to school in silence. I didn’t know what else to say. I was at a loss… and she obviously couldn’t take much more.
She got out of the car and I made sure to say, “I love you.” She even said it back.
So, at least I don’t have to worry about any potential disaster at the school… but as I walk in the door and I see a pair of shoes in the foyer and a jacket hanging on the banister – I want to scream!
And there just has to be something other than that!
A few weeks ago on the comedy show, “The Middle,” the premise of the story was how if the mom didn’t scream, things didn’t get done. She made a pact not to scream and in the end – her point was proven; without her screaming, one kid got lice, one kid forgot to babysit, and one forgot to study for a big test!
See, as much as us moms hate the fact that we are always screaming – it appears to be our only hope of raising responsible children (who we hope, one day, won’t scream at their kids all of the time).
But, what happenes when screaming isn’t enough? Then what?
My daughter, whom I love with all of my heart, is driving me NUTS! Her level of responsibility is beyond comprehension when it comes to picking up after herself and keeping her room organized.
At this point I find myself screaming at a wall – and I am about to go hoarse.
Here is how yesterday went… I cleaned the whole house: making piles for everyone’s stuff that was lying around. Abby’s pile being the biggest, of course. What gets me the most mad is when it is wrappers and garbage. Which there seems to be more of than pillows on our sofa!
When Abby got home, she threw her coat on the floor and immediately grabbed a snack and left the wrappers on the counter – right next to the garbage can.
She went upstairs to her room and I brought her, her pile of stuff. To which she sighed, “Ugh, not more stuff to put away?”
Are you kidding me….
“Yeah,” I said, “More stuff – if you would just put it away, I wouldn’t have all these piles for you.”
I walked away…yes, angry…
I took a stab at picking up in the mud room – only to find my arms filled with Abby’s stuff: pairs of shoes, sweatshirts, etc.
And, I brought them up to her room – only to hear her sigh, again.
This time I just threw them on the floor and said, “Put them away right now!”
We took the dogs for a walk and when we returned to the driveway she took all of the leashes off and then placed them on the porch.
“Why would you do that? Why wouldn’t you just put them away?” I yelled.
To which she blankly stared back and said, “I don’t know.”
Last night after dinner (after telling her to bring her dishes to the sink) she went out to play with a friend. (today, I see the chalk is still sitting where she left it)
Like a million other people we were watching Idol last night. Abby sitting on the couch eating the Girl Scout Cookies we just got…and I went to change the laundry. Only to see by the front door table – her socks and wrappers!
Okay, I lost it a little bit. I took the socks and the wrappers and went over to the couch and just threw them at her. (they were soft, no chance of injury)
“This is what I mean,” I screamed, “Throw them away right now!”
How many times had I screamed in just one day? And, how many times did I scream about the same thing? What the Hell am I doing wrong?
This morning as Abby scurried around the house looking to find everything green she could wear, I was making my bed and picking up my room.
I walked downstairs and as we were about to leave – I see that she left her coat and one of her purses on a chair in the kitchen.
Again I scream, “That is exactly what I am talking about – put it away right now!”
She looked at me as though I was crazy…walked upstairs and put them away.
It was time to leave for school. Thank God – or I am certain DCFS would have been on their way.
I had to run upstairs to get my shoes and happened to look in her room – only to see the towels she used to shower strewn across the room, the coat and purse she brought up – on the floor, closet light on, armoire doors open, miscellaneous crap through-out!
Now, I will say this – when she went to bed last night – her room was clean. How the Hell can it get trashed in one hour?
I walked downstairs, wanting desperately to approach the issue differently… So, I calmly said, “I just don’t know what to say anymore. Your room is a mess and I can’t take it – I can’t look at it any longer, something has got to change.”
Finally, a look of guilt and a sense of remorse.
As I walked around the car, feeling momentarily successful, all I could think about was, “what if there is a bomb at school or a shooting or a fire today? And, all Abby will remember is me yelling at her about cleaning up her room? I would feel bad the rest of my life.”
Ugh… we drove to school in silence. I didn’t know what else to say. I was at a loss… and she obviously couldn’t take much more.
She got out of the car and I made sure to say, “I love you.” She even said it back.
So, at least I don’t have to worry about any potential disaster at the school… but as I walk in the door and I see a pair of shoes in the foyer and a jacket hanging on the banister – I want to scream!
And there just has to be something other than that!
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Truths: School Pictures – what happened?
It seems like yesterday that I was buying cute little outfits for school picture day and laying them out the night before. My daughter happy to wear the new clothes and, for me, to curl her hair.
In fact, it also seems like yesterday that I was taking her to the mall to one of those chain picture stores for all her milestone birthdays. God forbid I forget one!
I would pick the cutest outfit and nervously walk into the studio surrounded by both amazing photos of children and screaming moms and babies.
I would plan the whole thing around nap times and lunch times and I would pray that Abby would be happy and cooperative. God doesn’t always answer our prayers.
I would put her up on the mini stage surrounded by anything cute for the picture and then the minute I would walk away, she would cry or crawl the other way or knock down the alphabet blocks.
I would begin to have an anxiety attack and the entire room would grow so hot, I would be sweating.
Somehow, amongst all the complete chaos, we would manage to get at least two good pictures and then I would spend my life savings buying them for every living relative and friend.
Yeah, that seems like yesterday and after today – doesn’t seem all that bad anymore.
See, Abby actually cared about pictures today. She started last night thinking about what she was going to wear. Asking my opinion but not really wanting it.
As last night came to a close, she picked out a cute dress, completely inappropriate for the weather, but we learn to pick our battles…at least it was cute.
Speaking of picking battles… does anyone remember (before kids) going to the grocery store and seeing a little girl dressed in a Cinderella costume (not during Halloween)? Do you remember thinking, “Why on Earth would any decent parent let their kid wear THAT?”
Or seeing a child dressed in pajamas walking around the store and wondering the same thing? And, then, thinking, “When I am a parent I will never let my kid out in public like that?”
And, then you have kids and you realize that the only fricking way you are getting to the store today is if you let Tommy wear his cowboy outfit or Jane wear her Dora PJ’s… and you don’t really care what they have on as long as you can get to the store today!
So, we all learn early to pick our battles over clothes…and none of it seems as hard as when your daughter is on the verge on puberty and being a teenager.
The outfit that was good last night was suddenly the worse thing in the world to wear today. And, I was being summoned to the upstairs in a desperate cry for help.
Sigh…
The truth is I had no business being there because no matter what I suggested it was all wrong… It was stupid or ugly or I just got the roll of the eyes. I kept wondering why I was there at all.
And, I started to even wonder why I haven’t paid more attention to her wardrobe. In the last few months she has gotten just about every t-shirt and sweatshirt and jeans from Aero imaginable….and yet, here we are with nothing to wear. I must be up for mom of the year!
Abby became frantic – running out of time – near tears that her picture would be ruined…until I, yes, me, had an idea that she liked.
I am not saying I liked it – but it was as good as the princess outfit she wore to Jewel a few years ago…and it was better than some of the things she put together this morning.
As she walked out the door – all I could do was gasp for air… because I know this is only the beginning of the tumultuous relationship to come between me, her and clothes.
Quite frankly, it is the beginning of the fighting for the two of us for the next 7 years.
Sure makes sweating it out at the mall seem like a dream!
In fact, it also seems like yesterday that I was taking her to the mall to one of those chain picture stores for all her milestone birthdays. God forbid I forget one!
I would pick the cutest outfit and nervously walk into the studio surrounded by both amazing photos of children and screaming moms and babies.
I would plan the whole thing around nap times and lunch times and I would pray that Abby would be happy and cooperative. God doesn’t always answer our prayers.
I would put her up on the mini stage surrounded by anything cute for the picture and then the minute I would walk away, she would cry or crawl the other way or knock down the alphabet blocks.
I would begin to have an anxiety attack and the entire room would grow so hot, I would be sweating.
Somehow, amongst all the complete chaos, we would manage to get at least two good pictures and then I would spend my life savings buying them for every living relative and friend.
Yeah, that seems like yesterday and after today – doesn’t seem all that bad anymore.
See, Abby actually cared about pictures today. She started last night thinking about what she was going to wear. Asking my opinion but not really wanting it.
As last night came to a close, she picked out a cute dress, completely inappropriate for the weather, but we learn to pick our battles…at least it was cute.
Speaking of picking battles… does anyone remember (before kids) going to the grocery store and seeing a little girl dressed in a Cinderella costume (not during Halloween)? Do you remember thinking, “Why on Earth would any decent parent let their kid wear THAT?”
Or seeing a child dressed in pajamas walking around the store and wondering the same thing? And, then, thinking, “When I am a parent I will never let my kid out in public like that?”
And, then you have kids and you realize that the only fricking way you are getting to the store today is if you let Tommy wear his cowboy outfit or Jane wear her Dora PJ’s… and you don’t really care what they have on as long as you can get to the store today!
So, we all learn early to pick our battles over clothes…and none of it seems as hard as when your daughter is on the verge on puberty and being a teenager.
The outfit that was good last night was suddenly the worse thing in the world to wear today. And, I was being summoned to the upstairs in a desperate cry for help.
Sigh…
The truth is I had no business being there because no matter what I suggested it was all wrong… It was stupid or ugly or I just got the roll of the eyes. I kept wondering why I was there at all.
And, I started to even wonder why I haven’t paid more attention to her wardrobe. In the last few months she has gotten just about every t-shirt and sweatshirt and jeans from Aero imaginable….and yet, here we are with nothing to wear. I must be up for mom of the year!
Abby became frantic – running out of time – near tears that her picture would be ruined…until I, yes, me, had an idea that she liked.
I am not saying I liked it – but it was as good as the princess outfit she wore to Jewel a few years ago…and it was better than some of the things she put together this morning.
As she walked out the door – all I could do was gasp for air… because I know this is only the beginning of the tumultuous relationship to come between me, her and clothes.
Quite frankly, it is the beginning of the fighting for the two of us for the next 7 years.
Sure makes sweating it out at the mall seem like a dream!
Friday, March 12, 2010
Tails: Untold Truths and Unfounded Compassion
Last night as I lay in bed with Bronchitis, Penelope and Thorp lay next to me. Each snuggled up against each other.
They were relaxed and comfortable. And, they were taking care of me. Resting their heads on my stomach, looking up at me each time I coughed.
They would sigh every so often and stretch out. At one point, Penelope was flat on her back, legs wide open in total trust of her surroundings.
A year ago that was not the case. A year ago, I was scurrying to find #151 listed as, “A good mother, into heat soon – will make money fast.”
She was 4 ½ years old and already she had bore so many babies. I knew it was her, sight unseen, that I wanted to save at the Amish Puppy Mill auction.
Two years prior, without even a mere grasp of the ultimate truths of puppy mills, I wandered into the barn and lost my breath.
Gasping for air, I walked around, holding back tears, staring into the endless wire cages, at the empty souls. No tail wagged, no dog barked, no dog had food, water, or a blanket to lie on.
Cage upon cage, I would walk to – like a zombie – numb and glazed over. Until #171…. He was matted and emotionally dead. And without any experience, without any understanding – I rescued him.
Today it is 2 years that Thorp has lived with us.
Two years, practically on the same day, I exposed my heart to a cruelty that I never fathomed. Two years ago, my life changed forever.
Today, Thorp and Penelope fill our lives with a special love. When I see them napping on a chair in the sun, chewing a rawhide and their tails wagging, when I see them playing with each other: I cannot help but smile.
To imagine how their lives have changed – and to admire how resilient they have been. They are survivors. They are survivors who have taught me to stand up for what is right.
When I seem them content and at peace, my mind still flashes back to all the other dogs I didn’t bring home. I swallow hard when I think that they might still be suffering – neglected – abused. And, that is when I know I must continue to fight for them.
To speak for them because they are voiceless.
Sure Penelope and Thorp and many others have been rescued from a horrible fate but there are even more dogs out there, waiting for their lucky day.
Many states including two, WI and IA, which surround my state, have passed bills protecting dogs and enforcing regulations on mass breed facilities. IL is still lagging in the background.
With the city of Chicago, one of the biggest in the US, I would have thought that IL would be a progressive state. Instead, I find myself embarrassed by our lack of humane laws – specifically regulations for mass breeders.
For those of you in IL who are kind enough to follow my blog, please write, call your legislators and demand that the cruelty be stopped.
Senator Pam Altoff has followed our pleas and is supportive of these laws – Rep. Jack Franks has yet to confirm his support and Rep. Mike Tryon (Crystal Lake) has personally told me that he couldn’t support a bill (attempted last year) that regulates puppy mills “because his neighbors breed their dogs once in awhile.”
Since I rescued Thorp two years ago, I am proud to say that the atrocity of puppy mills is coming to an end in many states. But, sadly, not yet in mine.
Two years ago changed not only my understanding of puppy mill dogs and what they endure to survive – but it taught me to endlessly fight for what I believe in.
Thorp and Penelope have blossomed into amazing, loving dogs who had an unfounded reason to understand compassion yet, so sincerely thankful for their second chance – hopefully, IL will blossom into a humane state and instill laws to regulate the untold truths of puppy mills.
They were relaxed and comfortable. And, they were taking care of me. Resting their heads on my stomach, looking up at me each time I coughed.
They would sigh every so often and stretch out. At one point, Penelope was flat on her back, legs wide open in total trust of her surroundings.
A year ago that was not the case. A year ago, I was scurrying to find #151 listed as, “A good mother, into heat soon – will make money fast.”
She was 4 ½ years old and already she had bore so many babies. I knew it was her, sight unseen, that I wanted to save at the Amish Puppy Mill auction.
Two years prior, without even a mere grasp of the ultimate truths of puppy mills, I wandered into the barn and lost my breath.
Gasping for air, I walked around, holding back tears, staring into the endless wire cages, at the empty souls. No tail wagged, no dog barked, no dog had food, water, or a blanket to lie on.
Cage upon cage, I would walk to – like a zombie – numb and glazed over. Until #171…. He was matted and emotionally dead. And without any experience, without any understanding – I rescued him.
Today it is 2 years that Thorp has lived with us.
Two years, practically on the same day, I exposed my heart to a cruelty that I never fathomed. Two years ago, my life changed forever.
Today, Thorp and Penelope fill our lives with a special love. When I see them napping on a chair in the sun, chewing a rawhide and their tails wagging, when I see them playing with each other: I cannot help but smile.
To imagine how their lives have changed – and to admire how resilient they have been. They are survivors. They are survivors who have taught me to stand up for what is right.
When I seem them content and at peace, my mind still flashes back to all the other dogs I didn’t bring home. I swallow hard when I think that they might still be suffering – neglected – abused. And, that is when I know I must continue to fight for them.
To speak for them because they are voiceless.
Sure Penelope and Thorp and many others have been rescued from a horrible fate but there are even more dogs out there, waiting for their lucky day.
Many states including two, WI and IA, which surround my state, have passed bills protecting dogs and enforcing regulations on mass breed facilities. IL is still lagging in the background.
With the city of Chicago, one of the biggest in the US, I would have thought that IL would be a progressive state. Instead, I find myself embarrassed by our lack of humane laws – specifically regulations for mass breeders.
For those of you in IL who are kind enough to follow my blog, please write, call your legislators and demand that the cruelty be stopped.
Senator Pam Altoff has followed our pleas and is supportive of these laws – Rep. Jack Franks has yet to confirm his support and Rep. Mike Tryon (Crystal Lake) has personally told me that he couldn’t support a bill (attempted last year) that regulates puppy mills “because his neighbors breed their dogs once in awhile.”
Since I rescued Thorp two years ago, I am proud to say that the atrocity of puppy mills is coming to an end in many states. But, sadly, not yet in mine.
Two years ago changed not only my understanding of puppy mill dogs and what they endure to survive – but it taught me to endlessly fight for what I believe in.
Thorp and Penelope have blossomed into amazing, loving dogs who had an unfounded reason to understand compassion yet, so sincerely thankful for their second chance – hopefully, IL will blossom into a humane state and instill laws to regulate the untold truths of puppy mills.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Truths: TGIF
Oh – it has been a Hell of a week. A court hearing to settle my brother’s estate, family feuds, and did I mention that my husband is having surgery today?
It is one of those weeks where you cannot focus on any one matter too long because before you know it, the next matter is staring you in the face.
That is how this week has been for me.
I have screamed, I have cried, I have almost given up.
But what do I do when things get out of hand – I go shopping!
Yesterday, I had had enough of all the crappy news and I got in the car and I went to the outlet mall and shopped at Carter’s. Carol had given me a store flyer and they were having a 50% off all baby stuff.
Of course, for a shopper, like me, this is a sure opportunity to shop, shop, shop!
The bad news is that the sale would end one day before one of my stepdaughters finds out if she is having a girl or boy!
But, like Carol said, buy both and return what you don’t need. It is critical that you take advantage of the sale!
I walked into Carter’s and my mouth dropped. (Now it has only been 5-6 years since I used to shop there myself for Abby) But, this time it was different. The whole store was like a candy shop and I just didn’t know where to go first!
Signs hanging all over reading 50% off – baby clothes strewn everywhere reminding how small and precious they are.
I seriously was overwhelmed.
The boy stuff is right in the front. So, I started there – only to think… Gosh, I hope it’s a girl!
Let’s face it – boy stuff just doesn’t have the magical quality that little girl stuff has. I mean how many footballs and baseballs can a kid wear. And who ever decided that safari animals were perfect for boys’ clothes.
I will be honest – it was hard for me to pick up any of it and get excited.
So, off to the girl stuff I went. My eyes bulged as everywhere I looked there were outfits I had to have. Pinks and bright greens and flowers and polka dots and everything that makes me smile.
I had no idea what rack to go to first. All of these cute onesies and jumpers and sun dresses… I could already feel my wallet getting thinner!
Before I had gone to the girl section, I did stop by the bibs and there were so many cute ones that I already had 5 hangers on my fingers and now as I swept every baby girl outfit I could find into my arms – I about fell over.
I finally stopped to breathe and took the clothes over to a display table and began sorting them out trying to come back to reality. They were all so cute – how could I decide. I did manage to put a few back and then I decided it would only be fair to go see the boys stuff again.
In the meantime, a nice saleslady came to see if I needed help. I explained that I was going to be a grandma two times over in the next few months. She said, “Girls, huh?”
I said, “No, we don’t yet.”
She said, “Well, by the looks of it, you must have an inkling.”
I said, “No, I just know what I want!”
That is when I knew it was time to go to the boys section!
Amazingly, after being engorged by pink posies and polka dots, the boys stuff seemed kinda cute.
Beach bum logos, puppy dogs, and all star shirts seemed to be fun. I actually pictured my grandson tromping along in his plaid shorts and beach t-shirt looking as fashionable as a Hollywood heart throb.
I even got to thinking that a boy…wouldn’t be that bad.
My arms were going numb with all of the clothes I had piled on top of them and when I started adding more and things kept falling off – well – I knew it was time to stop.
I walked on over to the counter and held my breath as the nice saleslady added up my purchases.
As much as I dreaded the total – I couldn’t help but be so excited. A few people in the store commented on my full arms and when I told them that the first two grandchildren were coming only 6 weeks apart – they all smiled and said, “You are going to have a blast!”
Oh yes I am!
I had bought enough to get myself a free diaper bag… Grandma should probably have one of those… and I bought enough to get a stack of dollars to spend next month!
Won’t my husband be thrilled!
By next month, I will know what one of the babies will be… watch out Carter’s you haven’t seen nothing yet!!
It is one of those weeks where you cannot focus on any one matter too long because before you know it, the next matter is staring you in the face.
That is how this week has been for me.
I have screamed, I have cried, I have almost given up.
But what do I do when things get out of hand – I go shopping!
Yesterday, I had had enough of all the crappy news and I got in the car and I went to the outlet mall and shopped at Carter’s. Carol had given me a store flyer and they were having a 50% off all baby stuff.
Of course, for a shopper, like me, this is a sure opportunity to shop, shop, shop!
The bad news is that the sale would end one day before one of my stepdaughters finds out if she is having a girl or boy!
But, like Carol said, buy both and return what you don’t need. It is critical that you take advantage of the sale!
I walked into Carter’s and my mouth dropped. (Now it has only been 5-6 years since I used to shop there myself for Abby) But, this time it was different. The whole store was like a candy shop and I just didn’t know where to go first!
Signs hanging all over reading 50% off – baby clothes strewn everywhere reminding how small and precious they are.
I seriously was overwhelmed.
The boy stuff is right in the front. So, I started there – only to think… Gosh, I hope it’s a girl!
Let’s face it – boy stuff just doesn’t have the magical quality that little girl stuff has. I mean how many footballs and baseballs can a kid wear. And who ever decided that safari animals were perfect for boys’ clothes.
I will be honest – it was hard for me to pick up any of it and get excited.
So, off to the girl stuff I went. My eyes bulged as everywhere I looked there were outfits I had to have. Pinks and bright greens and flowers and polka dots and everything that makes me smile.
I had no idea what rack to go to first. All of these cute onesies and jumpers and sun dresses… I could already feel my wallet getting thinner!
Before I had gone to the girl section, I did stop by the bibs and there were so many cute ones that I already had 5 hangers on my fingers and now as I swept every baby girl outfit I could find into my arms – I about fell over.
I finally stopped to breathe and took the clothes over to a display table and began sorting them out trying to come back to reality. They were all so cute – how could I decide. I did manage to put a few back and then I decided it would only be fair to go see the boys stuff again.
In the meantime, a nice saleslady came to see if I needed help. I explained that I was going to be a grandma two times over in the next few months. She said, “Girls, huh?”
I said, “No, we don’t yet.”
She said, “Well, by the looks of it, you must have an inkling.”
I said, “No, I just know what I want!”
That is when I knew it was time to go to the boys section!
Amazingly, after being engorged by pink posies and polka dots, the boys stuff seemed kinda cute.
Beach bum logos, puppy dogs, and all star shirts seemed to be fun. I actually pictured my grandson tromping along in his plaid shorts and beach t-shirt looking as fashionable as a Hollywood heart throb.
I even got to thinking that a boy…wouldn’t be that bad.
My arms were going numb with all of the clothes I had piled on top of them and when I started adding more and things kept falling off – well – I knew it was time to stop.
I walked on over to the counter and held my breath as the nice saleslady added up my purchases.
As much as I dreaded the total – I couldn’t help but be so excited. A few people in the store commented on my full arms and when I told them that the first two grandchildren were coming only 6 weeks apart – they all smiled and said, “You are going to have a blast!”
Oh yes I am!
I had bought enough to get myself a free diaper bag… Grandma should probably have one of those… and I bought enough to get a stack of dollars to spend next month!
Won’t my husband be thrilled!
By next month, I will know what one of the babies will be… watch out Carter’s you haven’t seen nothing yet!!
Monday, March 1, 2010
Tails: Believing in the Unimaginable
This was Sunday...
It is hard to describe how I feel right now… Thorp and I just got home from the big test and he passed! Thorp earned his Canine Good Citizen and Therapy Dog International certification!
It is as though my first born graduated college!
Seriously though, it has been long road for the both of us.
Almost exactly two years ago to the day – March 12th, I rescued Thorp from a nightmare I really never knew existed – a puppy mill auction.
He spoke to me when I looked at him in this cold wire cage and my heart sunk like I cannot explain. I had no intention of rescuing a dog that day and yet, my soul screamed that it was the right thing to do.
For $65.00 I took him home – no idea at all on what I would do this with this severely unstable and sickly dog.
But, that very day I had this vision that Thorp would tell the world about what he endured for 4 years and I would be the one to write his story… I am on page 135 right now but with no ending… Until today.
With the WI Puppy Mill legislation passed last fall and Thorp earning his certification today – my story is complete.
My eyes filled with tears as they announced we passed the exams today – and my soul smiled… That vision that I had two years ago came full circle today… everything I had hoped took place.
I rescued Thorp and in return he rescued me – he taught me patience and faith and helped me to find my passion.
Two years ago he was huddled in a cold cage – shaking and quivering – beat up and neglected… and now, as of today – it will be he who offers other people in need comfort and kindness and unbridled compassion.
Could there be a better story?
Maybe it is about paying it forward or believing in something much bigger than yourself or just having faith in something you cannot touch.
Thorp and I have this connection – we had it from the day I stared into his cage and he licked my hand.
This test was not easy for either of us – it meant that I had to be committed to training him (something I am very lax in) and it meant that Thorp would be held to higher expectations than just laying around and being needy.
Somehow, when it came right down to it – neither of us let the other down. I found time to be committed and Thorp found the ambition and the courage to conquer his fears.
Things he has not done in two years he learned… and today, he didn’t let me down. I think he even surprised himself.
Thorp was meant to be a therapy dog – his unending need to be held or pet – his gentle way and his eyes that speak a thousand words of unconditional love. Being a therapy dog was his calling – and it was my job to help him achieve it and his job to follow the rules.
We were a team today – an unspoken team who both wanted this to happen.
Sure that might sound crazy to some – but it is the truth.
It was two years ago this March 12, that changed Thorp’s life as well as mine… and now, Thorp will be able to share his story about surviving in a puppy mill, share his love with those in need and hopefully, change their lives forever.
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