Having two dogs in my care for a week gives me an opportunity to observe their behavior up close and personal. They communicate with body language. I often wonder what they would say if they could speak in my language. With kids however they use all means available to communicate. Sometimes it can be pleasing and sometimes comical.
I have noticed a new behavior in Rocky, the rescue dog. When I let him out he does not want to come right back in. I notice he likes to lie down in front of the closed storm door. I just left him there and he was quite content to just recline there, surveying his surroundings. I have noticed that Cujo sometimes wants to watch what is going on outside, although when it is hot he is happy to come into a cool house. Since they spend their time indoors just lying around it does not seem that big a change to me.
Kids are quick to let you know what they want from very early on. Mothers know that when a baby cries he needs something, usually milk. But it can be a frantic effort if a mother cannot quickly ascertain why her baby is crying. That is why mothers dread a colicky baby. A friend once told me of her experiences with a new baby. Her baby was crying constantly. Her mother came over to lend a hand. She took the baby and wrapped it up in a soft receiving blanket and the baby stopped crying immediately. You may have noticed in a hospital nursery the babies are "bundled". I think it is because in the womb babies are in a specified area, by bundling them you mimic that environment which they were accustomed to. Thus they feel safe.
When children have begun talking it is easier to understand their needs and things go more peacefully. In most families there is a story to tell of how one of the children used this tool of communication. I got my name from my first grandchild. He was watching out the window for my arrival when he was around two years of age. He ran to his mother and said "Bubbie is here". I have been Bubbie ever since.
My own son delighted us all by saying " I'm full of injury". He had picked up on my comment that he was full of energy. In turn many years later his son delighted me with a rhyming jingle. He was around age 4 or 5 and I was taking him to the movies. We were both in a holiday mood. As we walked from my car to the theater ticket booth we were holding hands. I began to sing a quickly made up ditty, while swinging our hands back and forth. "You're my buddy, you're my pal". Quick as a wink he came back in the same tune, "You're my girl friend, you're my gal". He has no doubt long forgotten this incident. But I have not. I was delighted that he could respond in such way. I thought it showed intelligence and surprising adaptability to a new situation.
Sometimes a child's actions will speak volumes without speaking one word. Many years ago when I was a first grade classroom teacher, a new student came to our school. I was told he was in the school office and would I come and get him. When I arrived he had crawled under a chair and no one could entice him to leave the spot. I sat down on a chair near him and began to talk to him. I explained who I was and what was going on down in my classroom. His mother had enrolled him and left as she had a job to go to. He was trying to protect himself from any further insults by hiding under a chair. I was able to gently and casually get him to go with me to see what the children were doing in our classroom. When we came to my room he did not want to come inside. I told him that was okay, as I would bring his desk out in the hall. I put his desk where he could observe what was happening inside and as time went by I would walk by his desk and say a word or two to him, just as I was circulating inside the room.
At some point as I came by his desk I asked him how he was going home at the end of the day.I needed to know if someone was picking him up or if he was going home by bus. He tearfully said he did not know. I said "Well, don't you worry about it. If need be, I can take you home myself in my car". Without one word, he stood up and walked into my classroom. Actually I knew some other option was open to him but he needed reassurance that he had not been abandoned.
About this same student I learned later that he and his mother were homeless and had been living in her car. She had just found shelter with a family member and had gone out looking for work. No doubt, she had so much on her mind that she did not consider the anguish her small boy was experiencing . Perhaps if she had not rushed away without meeting his teacher the transfer could have been much different.
Years earlier I got a surprising response from a young student. He was a very confident young man and diligent in his work patterns. I paid him a high compliment one day and told him if he ever ran for president I would vote for him. He said, "You would be dead by then". At the time I was 50 with no plans for an early demise. I wonder what happened to this capable young man.
I can conclude by stating, don't count out dogs or children as one never knows what they will say or do.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Requirements
We probably do not give it much thought but our lives are shaped by requirements. Some are common to all of us but others to particular circumstances.
The fourth of July this year of 2010 fell on a Sunday. Our pastor chose Micah 6: 6-8 as the scripture for his sermon. Michah was the sixth minor prophet. He was a man of Judah and prophesied to both the north and southern kingdoms. He is noted for his definition of true religion ( 6-8) and for his prophesy of Christ's birthplace ( 5:2 ). He also spoke of the eventual triumph of divine grace. I am not a Biblical scholar but am inspired by the wisdom found within it's pages.
This statement of what God requires of us came to me in the wee hours of this day. I had been reading a book on American History. This book contains a series of events in our country which helped shape us as a people. The event that set my mind off in a particular direction was telling about the Kefauver Hearings. Estes Kefauver was a U.S. senator from Tennessee. He led an investigation into crime in interstate commerce. This was in 1950 and 1951.
At that time my husband and I were spending the summer in Nashville, Tenn. He was in graduate school at Peabody College and I was having a leisurely summer away from my classroom. Television was in its infancy and the people of Tennessee were naturally interested in watching their senator in action. I had never before seen television and our landlord invited us to watch the hearings on her television. It was mesmerizing.
Senate hearings is not my focus today however. I was remembering what I was required to do that summer. Really, not much but be a wife, prepare breakfast, lunch and supper. My husband was required to study every spare moment he was not in class . He really worked hard that summer. On one night a week he set his studies aside and the two of us had a date. We usually went to a movie as night clubs were not our thing and our budget dictated frugality.
Something else was looming in the background that summer, the Korean War. My husband had already performed his duty for his country in World War II. He spent his time in the European Theater of War, although not in the front lines. He now belonged to the R.O.T.C. and since our country was at war he was required to register with the local draft board . This he did in our home town. He was obligated to inform that body if he changed his residence. He received some information which led him to not register in Tennessee. He learned Tennessee got their quota of officers from among the students temporarily in that state. He and some of his ROTC friends were not eager to fulfill Tennessee's quota. So, they ignored this requirement. One of their buddies who did not, was sent to Korea and lost his life there.
I am required to know the laws and regulations of the county of my residence. In order to comply, I subscribe to the county newspaper. Since it is mostly local activities that are included in this paper it is semi helpful. In this day and time, I can get some of this information online.
However, I am still of the generation which are paper bound. I like to get it in writing, or as the present generation would say a "hard copy".
One of the nice things about being a "retiree" is that the requirements have gone away for many routine things. Some people do not adjust well to this freedom while others thrive on it. I think I am of the latter group. It is refreshing to be able to regulate your own life. This does not however, erase all requirements . As Micah has said in Chapter 6, verse 8 : "He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God."
The fourth of July this year of 2010 fell on a Sunday. Our pastor chose Micah 6: 6-8 as the scripture for his sermon. Michah was the sixth minor prophet. He was a man of Judah and prophesied to both the north and southern kingdoms. He is noted for his definition of true religion ( 6-8) and for his prophesy of Christ's birthplace ( 5:2 ). He also spoke of the eventual triumph of divine grace. I am not a Biblical scholar but am inspired by the wisdom found within it's pages.
This statement of what God requires of us came to me in the wee hours of this day. I had been reading a book on American History. This book contains a series of events in our country which helped shape us as a people. The event that set my mind off in a particular direction was telling about the Kefauver Hearings. Estes Kefauver was a U.S. senator from Tennessee. He led an investigation into crime in interstate commerce. This was in 1950 and 1951.
At that time my husband and I were spending the summer in Nashville, Tenn. He was in graduate school at Peabody College and I was having a leisurely summer away from my classroom. Television was in its infancy and the people of Tennessee were naturally interested in watching their senator in action. I had never before seen television and our landlord invited us to watch the hearings on her television. It was mesmerizing.
Senate hearings is not my focus today however. I was remembering what I was required to do that summer. Really, not much but be a wife, prepare breakfast, lunch and supper. My husband was required to study every spare moment he was not in class . He really worked hard that summer. On one night a week he set his studies aside and the two of us had a date. We usually went to a movie as night clubs were not our thing and our budget dictated frugality.
Something else was looming in the background that summer, the Korean War. My husband had already performed his duty for his country in World War II. He spent his time in the European Theater of War, although not in the front lines. He now belonged to the R.O.T.C. and since our country was at war he was required to register with the local draft board . This he did in our home town. He was obligated to inform that body if he changed his residence. He received some information which led him to not register in Tennessee. He learned Tennessee got their quota of officers from among the students temporarily in that state. He and some of his ROTC friends were not eager to fulfill Tennessee's quota. So, they ignored this requirement. One of their buddies who did not, was sent to Korea and lost his life there.
I am required to know the laws and regulations of the county of my residence. In order to comply, I subscribe to the county newspaper. Since it is mostly local activities that are included in this paper it is semi helpful. In this day and time, I can get some of this information online.
However, I am still of the generation which are paper bound. I like to get it in writing, or as the present generation would say a "hard copy".
One of the nice things about being a "retiree" is that the requirements have gone away for many routine things. Some people do not adjust well to this freedom while others thrive on it. I think I am of the latter group. It is refreshing to be able to regulate your own life. This does not however, erase all requirements . As Micah has said in Chapter 6, verse 8 : "He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God."
Monday, July 12, 2010
When is Enough, Enough?
I made an early trip down to my raised bed garden this morning. It is a small garden by most accounts. But I planted two more rows of Ky. Wonder green beans. This is a better spot as there are in place fences for them to climb. Before watering them in , I picked from the present vines and probably got about a pound. I like the taste of these but the Blue Lake I had last year I liked also. It is hard to describe the difference in taste, but these seem to have more "body".
When I came back to the house I removed my hat and looked it over. Sure enough there was a pesky tick. I sent it down the drain and removed my clothes and looked them over. There was another one on my pants. Good-bye to him also. I had sprayed my clothes with Cutter Off and felt protected, but those little biters will just fall out of nowhere.
Dealing with the ticks and other garden problems made me begin to question the wisdom of continuing this hobby. We are in a hot weather pattern right now in Georgia and people my age are trying to avoid the heat. I only go out early in the day or late in the evening, and never more than an hour. I do not know what will convince me to stop gardening. It is so very pleasant to have very fresh vegetables that I keep deferring a decision.
I do not want to emulate my mother's brother, uncle Joe Gamp. I probably met him as a very young child but I cannot remember if I did. I did see his photograph. He "sat for a portrait" and was dressed for the period, early 1900's. I thought him a handsome man. I think he had blue eyes. I have been told that he was jovial and enjoyed having a good time. Perhaps his job caused him to look on the bright side of life whenever possible. You see, he worked at a foundry and made handles for caskets. I remember seeing one once, it was silver and very shiny.
But my uncle Joe liked to garden, even in his later years. His garden was in his back yard. One day his neighbors noticed that they had not seen him all day. . They looked in his garden and found him with his hoe, on the ground where they both had fallen. He probably had a stroke or perhaps a heart attack. With no way to call for help he died there in his corn field.
Uncle Joe managed to avoid tuberculosis when it was rampant in his family. In fact, so did my mother. She slept in the same bed with her sister Emma. She nursed her until she died of this dreaded disease. She told me what it was like to have this disease all around her. It was not pleasant. Tuberculosis was common in the early 1900's. My father was sent out to Nebraska where the climate was supposed to be more favorable for his tuberculosis. He and my mother both had scars on their lungs from this disease. Perhaps uncle Joe was not exposed to it often or had a strong resistance to it. He also may have left home by this time .
At any rate, it is a shame that he had to give up gardening in such a rude and abrupt way.
There are many other pleasant pursuits available to me so I really do not have to follow his example. It is just the deciding that is difficult. I think I am ready to give it up around this time of year. But when spring rolls around and I am feeling peppy, it is another matter. I usually have no problem in making decisions. In SOME cases I tend to think about things a lot before deciding. I guess this is just one of those cases.
When I came back to the house I removed my hat and looked it over. Sure enough there was a pesky tick. I sent it down the drain and removed my clothes and looked them over. There was another one on my pants. Good-bye to him also. I had sprayed my clothes with Cutter Off and felt protected, but those little biters will just fall out of nowhere.
Dealing with the ticks and other garden problems made me begin to question the wisdom of continuing this hobby. We are in a hot weather pattern right now in Georgia and people my age are trying to avoid the heat. I only go out early in the day or late in the evening, and never more than an hour. I do not know what will convince me to stop gardening. It is so very pleasant to have very fresh vegetables that I keep deferring a decision.
I do not want to emulate my mother's brother, uncle Joe Gamp. I probably met him as a very young child but I cannot remember if I did. I did see his photograph. He "sat for a portrait" and was dressed for the period, early 1900's. I thought him a handsome man. I think he had blue eyes. I have been told that he was jovial and enjoyed having a good time. Perhaps his job caused him to look on the bright side of life whenever possible. You see, he worked at a foundry and made handles for caskets. I remember seeing one once, it was silver and very shiny.
But my uncle Joe liked to garden, even in his later years. His garden was in his back yard. One day his neighbors noticed that they had not seen him all day. . They looked in his garden and found him with his hoe, on the ground where they both had fallen. He probably had a stroke or perhaps a heart attack. With no way to call for help he died there in his corn field.
Uncle Joe managed to avoid tuberculosis when it was rampant in his family. In fact, so did my mother. She slept in the same bed with her sister Emma. She nursed her until she died of this dreaded disease. She told me what it was like to have this disease all around her. It was not pleasant. Tuberculosis was common in the early 1900's. My father was sent out to Nebraska where the climate was supposed to be more favorable for his tuberculosis. He and my mother both had scars on their lungs from this disease. Perhaps uncle Joe was not exposed to it often or had a strong resistance to it. He also may have left home by this time .
At any rate, it is a shame that he had to give up gardening in such a rude and abrupt way.
There are many other pleasant pursuits available to me so I really do not have to follow his example. It is just the deciding that is difficult. I think I am ready to give it up around this time of year. But when spring rolls around and I am feeling peppy, it is another matter. I usually have no problem in making decisions. In SOME cases I tend to think about things a lot before deciding. I guess this is just one of those cases.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Man's Best Friend
My son-in-law said that I had neglected to tell of the sainted dogs which he calls my grand children. So, in all fairness I shall tell of the dogs I have known. Some of the memories are not happy ones. I shall get that out of the way quickly.
Years ago when my 18 year old grandson was around four years of age, he was spending some time with me here at the lake. I tried to give him different experiences when he was with me. We would go to the park nearby and under the shade of a huge willow tree set up camp. Those were happy endeavors, as we could play in the water and even do a bit of swimming.
Occasionally we went to a park which had an emu farm next to it. Also there was a fine walking path, all paved and used by visitors to get in a nice walk or run in a safe area. One day we were walking around on this path and out of nowhere came a vicious dog baring his teeth and on a definite mission to bite one of us. The sight of him plus the speed of his approaching alarmed me so I picked up my grandson and turned around so he would not be bitten. I have heard to never turn your back on a dog, but if I had not, things could have been worse. The dog jumped at me and took a bite. What he got was a mouth full of lavender shorts. I got a triangle shaped wound which proved to be more bruise than bite. My shorts forever had a triangle tear and so did my undies. My screams and the animal growling alerted the owner of this dog. He called to his dog and he retreated to his owner's property.
Going straight home, I called the sheriff's office and a deputy came to my house. I filed a report .He took a picture of my wound and followed up on the incident. The man lied about the dog having had his rabies shot. The county took the man to court and I had to appear. I took the "evidence" with me but the judge did not ask to see it. He had pictures that the deputy had taken. The dog was quarantined for the prescribed time and I stayed away from that park. This was a shame as it was fun to see the emus in the field , walk on the path and for my grandson to play on the play equipment there.
But, it could have been worse so we shall put that aside and focus on the fine qualities of man's best friend. The canines of this world have proven in many ways to be extremely valuable. They can be trained to detect illnesses in humans, serve as guide dogs, to track lost children and evil doers. They make excellent assistants to those who serve to protect us in many ways. Not to mention the companship they provide for their owners.
Some are trained to develop natural tendencies as sheep dogs to herd sheep. My son Jim, had a Shetland sheep dog who was lovable, protective and much beloved by all of us. When his master, as a small boy, would be swimming in the lake this dog swam with him. He impeded Jeff's swimming as he continually swam around him in circles to protect him. He was a family dog and took his job seriously. We all mourned his passing. He lived a good, productive life and there was no replacing him.
As a dog lover you tend to want a dog in your family. So as time passed, they found a Pomeranian. A prettier little fur ball would be hard to find. His master gave him the unlikely name of "Cujo". Cujo is engaging , sociable and so very entertaining. He lives to chase tennis balls. This had to end as it was ruining his teeth to jump up and catch the balls in mid air. Cujo has what I call a prissy walk. His short legs and curled back tail help to convey this appearance.
Perhaps his masters thought he needed another dog to keep him company. So, they found a rescue dog which needed a lot of love and care. She was just a puppy but had already seen the hard side of life. They nursed her to good health and Jim began to train her to be a good companion. They thought to call her by several names but settled on Rocky as her face reminded them of Rocky Marciano.
As I see it, Rocky has one flaw. She cannot resist a roll in a good mud hole. I became all too aware of this the first time I kept the dogs for a week. My daughter and her husband went to New York and brought the dogs to my house. Not too long after they left I let the dogs out for a quick run. Cujo was back in about five minutes. Rocky was not. When she did appear from the direction of the lake she was covered in mud and proud of it.
It was nearing dusk and I could not leave her outdoors so something had to be done NOW. My sister Ruth was here and she helped me get a leash on her. Then I wiped her feet as best I could. I led her upstairs and with my left arm in a cast, somehow managed to get her in the bathtub. With my one good arm I was able to spray her, soap her up and spray again, three times. For she was really muddy and also stinky. When it was all over with, I had a very dirty cast from my wrist up to my armpit. But I also had one clean dog.
Since then I have kept Rocky and had no mud incidents. The training collar is a big help. She is able to communicate very well and is a more relaxed kind of dog. Her whine means "let me go out now or you will be sorry". The paws up on my chair says " Get off the computer and pay attention to me as I want to play." Cujo communicates well when necessary. When he wants his food bowl replenished he turns it over with his nose. The noise tends to get your attention.
After the dogs leave my house it seems empty. I feel vulnerable without them to alert me of any approaching cars, or a deer they spy from the front window. They are good at chasing the deer away and that is best for my garden.
I have never owned a dog and do not feel competent to care for one on most occasions. But having one visit from time to time is a nice change. Do I want to have a dog of my own? Well, noooooo. I have too many projects going on now but having a wireless alarm system like Cujo and Rocky can be a comforting feeling for me.
Years ago when my 18 year old grandson was around four years of age, he was spending some time with me here at the lake. I tried to give him different experiences when he was with me. We would go to the park nearby and under the shade of a huge willow tree set up camp. Those were happy endeavors, as we could play in the water and even do a bit of swimming.
Occasionally we went to a park which had an emu farm next to it. Also there was a fine walking path, all paved and used by visitors to get in a nice walk or run in a safe area. One day we were walking around on this path and out of nowhere came a vicious dog baring his teeth and on a definite mission to bite one of us. The sight of him plus the speed of his approaching alarmed me so I picked up my grandson and turned around so he would not be bitten. I have heard to never turn your back on a dog, but if I had not, things could have been worse. The dog jumped at me and took a bite. What he got was a mouth full of lavender shorts. I got a triangle shaped wound which proved to be more bruise than bite. My shorts forever had a triangle tear and so did my undies. My screams and the animal growling alerted the owner of this dog. He called to his dog and he retreated to his owner's property.
Going straight home, I called the sheriff's office and a deputy came to my house. I filed a report .He took a picture of my wound and followed up on the incident. The man lied about the dog having had his rabies shot. The county took the man to court and I had to appear. I took the "evidence" with me but the judge did not ask to see it. He had pictures that the deputy had taken. The dog was quarantined for the prescribed time and I stayed away from that park. This was a shame as it was fun to see the emus in the field , walk on the path and for my grandson to play on the play equipment there.
But, it could have been worse so we shall put that aside and focus on the fine qualities of man's best friend. The canines of this world have proven in many ways to be extremely valuable. They can be trained to detect illnesses in humans, serve as guide dogs, to track lost children and evil doers. They make excellent assistants to those who serve to protect us in many ways. Not to mention the companship they provide for their owners.
Some are trained to develop natural tendencies as sheep dogs to herd sheep. My son Jim, had a Shetland sheep dog who was lovable, protective and much beloved by all of us. When his master, as a small boy, would be swimming in the lake this dog swam with him. He impeded Jeff's swimming as he continually swam around him in circles to protect him. He was a family dog and took his job seriously. We all mourned his passing. He lived a good, productive life and there was no replacing him.
As a dog lover you tend to want a dog in your family. So as time passed, they found a Pomeranian. A prettier little fur ball would be hard to find. His master gave him the unlikely name of "Cujo". Cujo is engaging , sociable and so very entertaining. He lives to chase tennis balls. This had to end as it was ruining his teeth to jump up and catch the balls in mid air. Cujo has what I call a prissy walk. His short legs and curled back tail help to convey this appearance.
Perhaps his masters thought he needed another dog to keep him company. So, they found a rescue dog which needed a lot of love and care. She was just a puppy but had already seen the hard side of life. They nursed her to good health and Jim began to train her to be a good companion. They thought to call her by several names but settled on Rocky as her face reminded them of Rocky Marciano.
As I see it, Rocky has one flaw. She cannot resist a roll in a good mud hole. I became all too aware of this the first time I kept the dogs for a week. My daughter and her husband went to New York and brought the dogs to my house. Not too long after they left I let the dogs out for a quick run. Cujo was back in about five minutes. Rocky was not. When she did appear from the direction of the lake she was covered in mud and proud of it.
It was nearing dusk and I could not leave her outdoors so something had to be done NOW. My sister Ruth was here and she helped me get a leash on her. Then I wiped her feet as best I could. I led her upstairs and with my left arm in a cast, somehow managed to get her in the bathtub. With my one good arm I was able to spray her, soap her up and spray again, three times. For she was really muddy and also stinky. When it was all over with, I had a very dirty cast from my wrist up to my armpit. But I also had one clean dog.Since then I have kept Rocky and had no mud incidents. The training collar is a big help. She is able to communicate very well and is a more relaxed kind of dog. Her whine means "let me go out now or you will be sorry". The paws up on my chair says " Get off the computer and pay attention to me as I want to play." Cujo communicates well when necessary. When he wants his food bowl replenished he turns it over with his nose. The noise tends to get your attention.
After the dogs leave my house it seems empty. I feel vulnerable without them to alert me of any approaching cars, or a deer they spy from the front window. They are good at chasing the deer away and that is best for my garden.
I have never owned a dog and do not feel competent to care for one on most occasions. But having one visit from time to time is a nice change. Do I want to have a dog of my own? Well, noooooo. I have too many projects going on now but having a wireless alarm system like Cujo and Rocky can be a comforting feeling for me.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
For Cat Lovers Everywhere
Well, even if you are not cat lovers you can get over it ! I did.
This morning my niece sent me a picture of her two cats. Their names are Otis and Miss Ellie. One is black and the other one is white with a touch of black. She told about their favorite thing to do was catch varmints and bring them in to her and her husband at 3:00 in the morning.!
I told her I only had one cat, and then I began remembering how many cats we have had over the years. The first was a white kitten for my daughter, after she begged and played on my guilt. It was a cute little kitten but was the bane of my existence when I was standing at the sink washing dishes. It was great sport for him to jump at my heels and scratch them. I can do just so much dancing while standing at the sink so I was not pleased with this aspect of having a kitten. We were living in Maryland at the time and a heavy snowfall came one evening. Little Kitty was out that night. Kitty did not return home. I learned that in the heavy snow this poor kitten was out in the road and being white could not be seen. So, he met the same fate as the opossums do in our area here in Ga.
The next time that kittens appeared in our household was around 1990. I was in a second marriage and my husband came home with two little kittens. A farmer near by had given them to him. I was overcome with a "hissy fit" and demanded they be returned. I relented however when he said he took them as it gave him comfort to have them around. He was losing his eyesight and had been told by Emory's best doctors that he would soon be completely blind. I cannot imagine how it would be to lose one's eyesight. I am very visual and for that to be taken away is more than I could bear. Those two cats lived outside and my only complaint was that they dug in my garden.
My husband built a unique feeding station for them. We had a double
trunked hickory tree out back. He made a platform which was wedged between and around the trees. It was high enough that our dog could not reach it. The cats could scamper up the trunk and feed whenever they wanted. It was a win, win, situation. I did not know it at the time but they also were keeping away other critters that I would really not like. As outside cats tend to do, they "came missing" at some point. Since my husband was no longer here I did not seek out replacements.
As time went by and I was enjoying retirement , my neighbor called me . He had a feral cat on his property and she had given birth to a litter of kittens. She had sought out a safe spot for the birth, under his shed. He had a dog and knew this situation could not exist for long. He wanted me to take the last two of the kittens. I told him I just did not want to do that, but he came over with these two little fur balls anyway. He proposed that after they were weaned I keep them to catch mice around the place. I protested I did not know what to do with two kittens and did not want them. He was so desperate to find a home that he said he would come over every day and help me "tame" them. I did have a screened in porch and plenty of land where they could hunt. Finally, I again relented and agreed to take on two cats. He kept his word , came over every day ,picked them up and petted them.
One of the cats I named "Spitfire" as he would spit at
you if you picked him up. I was intimated but not my neighbor. He just took his big hands and picked him up and petted him anyway. He told me that this kitten had been traumatized by his dog while just a few days old. Spitfire had ended up in his dog's mouth. The other cat had two black ears that looked like a butterfly so I named him "Butterfly". I got into the whole cat thing, with a litter box on my screened porch. For three weeks they lived on this porch, never leaving. Then gradually, I took them outside for a little bit at a time. This took a while as they felt secure on the porch. It had been their home. They ate, played and slept there, so naturally they felt safe there.
The personalities began to come forth. Spitfire was wiry and agile and alert at every change; Butterfly was laid back and gentle, content to just be a lazy cat. I had both of them neutered so the difference was just in their genetic nature. they both turned out to be great hunters however and kept my garden vole free. No small fete when you have a lot of land. I learned to tolerate the digging and tried to make my garden "cat proof".
My brother from Va. came to visit while I had these two cats. He noticed that Spitfire was climbing the outside wall to peer into my kitchen. He proposed to build a platform for them to sit on and watch me working in the kitchen. This proved to be great sport for him and for all of my visitors. True to his nature Spitfire just had to see what I was doing indoors.
I think some kind of change was taking place in Butterfly as he would follow me into my raised bed vegetable garden. As I worked he would try to scratch me as I dug with my trowel. One serious scratch sent me to my doctor for treatment. My vet said I may have to get rid of Butterfly if this behavior continued. I was reluctant to do that. As I stated earlier, cats sometimes "go missing". This happened to Butterfly. He had gone away before and always returned but his time he did not. So, now I was down to one cat.
My sister and her family were here visiting. Her son asked
me if Spitfire ever brought gifts to me as, in mice he had caught. I told him no, he never had. A short time after this as my guests were leaving by way of the back door Spitfire appeared and at his feet was a small mouse. He turned his head and looked up at me as if to say " Well, I finally am bringing you a gift". My guests left and so did Spitfire. Some time during the day he just did not return to the house. My house is surrounded by woods in all directions. He could have gone anywhere. He was an old cat but still skittish. Perhaps it was his "time" to go.
That fall I planted 100 bulbs in my front flower bed. Only 50 came up in the spring. What I did find was plenty of holes left by voles. With no cats to keep them at bay, they had been feasting all winter below ground on those succulent bulbs. So, Spitfire and Butterfly had been earning their keep. I had just not realized how valuable they were.
Do I want another cat. Well, noooooooo ! But I do recognize their value, as companion, varmint catcher, entertainers and sometimes just interesting as character studies.
This morning my niece sent me a picture of her two cats. Their names are Otis and Miss Ellie. One is black and the other one is white with a touch of black. She told about their favorite thing to do was catch varmints and bring them in to her and her husband at 3:00 in the morning.!
I told her I only had one cat, and then I began remembering how many cats we have had over the years. The first was a white kitten for my daughter, after she begged and played on my guilt. It was a cute little kitten but was the bane of my existence when I was standing at the sink washing dishes. It was great sport for him to jump at my heels and scratch them. I can do just so much dancing while standing at the sink so I was not pleased with this aspect of having a kitten. We were living in Maryland at the time and a heavy snowfall came one evening. Little Kitty was out that night. Kitty did not return home. I learned that in the heavy snow this poor kitten was out in the road and being white could not be seen. So, he met the same fate as the opossums do in our area here in Ga.
The next time that kittens appeared in our household was around 1990. I was in a second marriage and my husband came home with two little kittens. A farmer near by had given them to him. I was overcome with a "hissy fit" and demanded they be returned. I relented however when he said he took them as it gave him comfort to have them around. He was losing his eyesight and had been told by Emory's best doctors that he would soon be completely blind. I cannot imagine how it would be to lose one's eyesight. I am very visual and for that to be taken away is more than I could bear. Those two cats lived outside and my only complaint was that they dug in my garden.
My husband built a unique feeding station for them. We had a double
trunked hickory tree out back. He made a platform which was wedged between and around the trees. It was high enough that our dog could not reach it. The cats could scamper up the trunk and feed whenever they wanted. It was a win, win, situation. I did not know it at the time but they also were keeping away other critters that I would really not like. As outside cats tend to do, they "came missing" at some point. Since my husband was no longer here I did not seek out replacements.As time went by and I was enjoying retirement , my neighbor called me . He had a feral cat on his property and she had given birth to a litter of kittens. She had sought out a safe spot for the birth, under his shed. He had a dog and knew this situation could not exist for long. He wanted me to take the last two of the kittens. I told him I just did not want to do that, but he came over with these two little fur balls anyway. He proposed that after they were weaned I keep them to catch mice around the place. I protested I did not know what to do with two kittens and did not want them. He was so desperate to find a home that he said he would come over every day and help me "tame" them. I did have a screened in porch and plenty of land where they could hunt. Finally, I again relented and agreed to take on two cats. He kept his word , came over every day ,picked them up and petted them.
One of the cats I named "Spitfire" as he would spit at
you if you picked him up. I was intimated but not my neighbor. He just took his big hands and picked him up and petted him anyway. He told me that this kitten had been traumatized by his dog while just a few days old. Spitfire had ended up in his dog's mouth. The other cat had two black ears that looked like a butterfly so I named him "Butterfly". I got into the whole cat thing, with a litter box on my screened porch. For three weeks they lived on this porch, never leaving. Then gradually, I took them outside for a little bit at a time. This took a while as they felt secure on the porch. It had been their home. They ate, played and slept there, so naturally they felt safe there.The personalities began to come forth. Spitfire was wiry and agile and alert at every change; Butterfly was laid back and gentle, content to just be a lazy cat. I had both of them neutered so the difference was just in their genetic nature. they both turned out to be great hunters however and kept my garden vole free. No small fete when you have a lot of land. I learned to tolerate the digging and tried to make my garden "cat proof".
My brother from Va. came to visit while I had these two cats. He noticed that Spitfire was climbing the outside wall to peer into my kitchen. He proposed to build a platform for them to sit on and watch me working in the kitchen. This proved to be great sport for him and for all of my visitors. True to his nature Spitfire just had to see what I was doing indoors.
I think some kind of change was taking place in Butterfly as he would follow me into my raised bed vegetable garden. As I worked he would try to scratch me as I dug with my trowel. One serious scratch sent me to my doctor for treatment. My vet said I may have to get rid of Butterfly if this behavior continued. I was reluctant to do that. As I stated earlier, cats sometimes "go missing". This happened to Butterfly. He had gone away before and always returned but his time he did not. So, now I was down to one cat.
My sister and her family were here visiting. Her son asked
me if Spitfire ever brought gifts to me as, in mice he had caught. I told him no, he never had. A short time after this as my guests were leaving by way of the back door Spitfire appeared and at his feet was a small mouse. He turned his head and looked up at me as if to say " Well, I finally am bringing you a gift". My guests left and so did Spitfire. Some time during the day he just did not return to the house. My house is surrounded by woods in all directions. He could have gone anywhere. He was an old cat but still skittish. Perhaps it was his "time" to go.That fall I planted 100 bulbs in my front flower bed. Only 50 came up in the spring. What I did find was plenty of holes left by voles. With no cats to keep them at bay, they had been feasting all winter below ground on those succulent bulbs. So, Spitfire and Butterfly had been earning their keep. I had just not realized how valuable they were.
Do I want another cat. Well, noooooooo ! But I do recognize their value, as companion, varmint catcher, entertainers and sometimes just interesting as character studies.
Friday, June 25, 2010
The Greatest Reward
Life has many rewards. Depending upon your perspective, your focus for rewards can be quite different from the person next to you. Since I enjoy gardening I am thinking of the rewards that go along with this universal hobby. Although it could be an avocation, or vocation. For me it is good exercise and experimentation with seeds and plants.
I was greatly rewarded this morning when I went to my tall, healthy, productive Navaho thorn less blackberry bush. The berries are bigger and fatter then the biggest thumb. When they are completely black and shiny they are ready for picking. If the berry comes off easily with the tenderest pull, then you know it is at it's peak of ripeness. There is nothing quite as tasty as a bowl of these berries with a tad of sugar sprinkled over them. Adding cold milk is like icing on the cake.
Like most rewards it started with preparation. Three of the men in my life dug, tilled, amended and fertilized the soil until it was friable and ready for planting. Thanks, to Jim, Bruce and Reed this bed for blackberries was properly ready to receive the healthy plants I put in the ground. That was only last year. Not long at all to wait for the sweet reward.
I am thinking of all of the parents who are sending their children off to college this fall. These parents worked years in the garden of parenting to guide, direct, correct, affirm and cultivate their children. Now, their children are ready to step forward into a new experience of living away from home and being on their own. There will still be parental ties to be sure. But seeing these young people go forth with the best preparation their parents could give them, is the greatest reward of all.
Not all parents will be able to savor this kind of reward. For those who can, it is sweet indeed. It is well worth the time, effort , money and sacrifice invested in their upbringing. For all parents who are sending their children off to studies in a different environment, we applaud what you have done. We know it has not been easy, but we also know it has been well worth it all. You surely have the very greatest reward possible.
I was greatly rewarded this morning when I went to my tall, healthy, productive Navaho thorn less blackberry bush. The berries are bigger and fatter then the biggest thumb. When they are completely black and shiny they are ready for picking. If the berry comes off easily with the tenderest pull, then you know it is at it's peak of ripeness. There is nothing quite as tasty as a bowl of these berries with a tad of sugar sprinkled over them. Adding cold milk is like icing on the cake.
Like most rewards it started with preparation. Three of the men in my life dug, tilled, amended and fertilized the soil until it was friable and ready for planting. Thanks, to Jim, Bruce and Reed this bed for blackberries was properly ready to receive the healthy plants I put in the ground. That was only last year. Not long at all to wait for the sweet reward.
I am thinking of all of the parents who are sending their children off to college this fall. These parents worked years in the garden of parenting to guide, direct, correct, affirm and cultivate their children. Now, their children are ready to step forward into a new experience of living away from home and being on their own. There will still be parental ties to be sure. But seeing these young people go forth with the best preparation their parents could give them, is the greatest reward of all.
Not all parents will be able to savor this kind of reward. For those who can, it is sweet indeed. It is well worth the time, effort , money and sacrifice invested in their upbringing. For all parents who are sending their children off to studies in a different environment, we applaud what you have done. We know it has not been easy, but we also know it has been well worth it all. You surely have the very greatest reward possible.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Wasted Life
Early this morning while I and most of the people in America were sleeping, a rare occurrence took place in the state of Utah. A killer was killed by firing squad. His daughter spoke about his agreement with the death penalty. He agreed that he should have this punishment. His disagreement was that it took so long to take place. Perhaps his lawyers prolonged the process by using appeals. For whatever reasons that it was delayed, he felt it should have happened sooner not years later. Perhaps it should have been after his first murder, but at that time he killed his second victim, while trying to escape. So, he certainly did not have that attitude after his first crime.
The story I saw about him stated that he had a troubled upbringing. Now, I do not know what kind of an upbringing he had. Unless he had been born with a criminal mind, a natural psychopath, then there is blame elsewhere. But who or what is to blame? The answer may be so convoluted that no one thing or person brought him to this end.
Can this sort of thing be prevented in the future. Yes and no, irresponsible people will continue to bear children. There will always be people with no plan or preparation on how to provide a stable and loving home.
Can others play a part in providing a stable and loving environment for children who need it. Of course, they do it all the time. Most parents are doing a great job of rearing children. Many organizations and civic minded persons use their time and money to help children grow into healthy reliable citizens. Could such efforts be redoubled. Yes. Could others be alert for opportunities to play such a role. Yes. I know of many who do just that and I feel sure that you do too.
Our government plays a part in helping families when they are in trouble. Perhaps on a local level there is a helpful idea yet to come forth. Many adults who have retired, use their time to act as mentors for young children. The schools are happy to have adults participate in mentoring situations. Students at risk are identified and flagged for help. Since all children enter the schools at an early age there is plenty of opportunity to be a part of the solution. If you feel so inclined to help you will be welcomed. You can even say that I sent you.! But, if we all are alert to ways in which we can affirm children, that is a step forward.
While we lament a wasted life we are not helpless to steer others in a different direction.
The story I saw about him stated that he had a troubled upbringing. Now, I do not know what kind of an upbringing he had. Unless he had been born with a criminal mind, a natural psychopath, then there is blame elsewhere. But who or what is to blame? The answer may be so convoluted that no one thing or person brought him to this end.
Can this sort of thing be prevented in the future. Yes and no, irresponsible people will continue to bear children. There will always be people with no plan or preparation on how to provide a stable and loving home.
Can others play a part in providing a stable and loving environment for children who need it. Of course, they do it all the time. Most parents are doing a great job of rearing children. Many organizations and civic minded persons use their time and money to help children grow into healthy reliable citizens. Could such efforts be redoubled. Yes. Could others be alert for opportunities to play such a role. Yes. I know of many who do just that and I feel sure that you do too.
Our government plays a part in helping families when they are in trouble. Perhaps on a local level there is a helpful idea yet to come forth. Many adults who have retired, use their time to act as mentors for young children. The schools are happy to have adults participate in mentoring situations. Students at risk are identified and flagged for help. Since all children enter the schools at an early age there is plenty of opportunity to be a part of the solution. If you feel so inclined to help you will be welcomed. You can even say that I sent you.! But, if we all are alert to ways in which we can affirm children, that is a step forward.
While we lament a wasted life we are not helpless to steer others in a different direction.
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