Category Archives: Family

Inspiration and Aspirations

Posted on May 14, 2017 | Leave a comment

Never mind perspiration. I awakened thinking I was late on a Sunday to take her out. Turns out the sun was bright and it was 5:30 in the morning and I awakened her.

If I were to opine, I’d say that when her eyes first opened as a pup she realized she was living in squalor. She knew she was a mutt, and wanted to get out of there pronto. Luckily the folks that allowed her to have worms, coccidia et al dumped her litter at the local shelter. Neither I nor my husband ever grew up in those conditions but we understand them and are grateful for shelters who take care of needy animals.

We were married a year and “settled in” as much as a software guy can be coming off the dot-bomb era so decided to get a dog. We met Zoe and were smitten. She was taken. We saw other dogs but liked “Camilla.” They called the next morning, said the hold was released and that she was ours. She was so excited coming home in that cardboard box she jumped right out!

I threw the box in the back seat and she relished sitting on my lap and driving in the car (windows closed, of course, AC on). Oh this was the second shelter to nudge nudge. wink wink change the name. We were down to a list of five. After 20 years of volunteering with shelters and also helping spay/neuter over 2,500 feral cats we settled on a name. Zoe, Greek for “life.” It has suited her all these years as she is the happiest dog I’ve ever met.

Her aspirations were realized. A good family and new/no hips. Yes, by the time she was four months old, at under 20 lbs. she had the worst hips her surgeon had ever seen. I did two weeks of research and we got her in to Val the Vet at six and nine-months of age for two FNHO’s, femoral head and neck ostectomies, they took out her hips. Back then they didn’t have titanium hips for smaller dogs so she had to grow her own hips and that she did. We walked her, my husband had her sneak into the pool for water therapy and she just took it on, life as usual.

Zoe is a trouper. All these years later she is kind of a mascot in our community and all the kids call out “Look, it’s Zoe!!!” My name is irrelevant. She is so kind and gentle to people, little ones, other dogs, even cats. She does have a forever home and has since she turned six weeks old. She is an inspiration to me for the light she gives others, and an aspiration as to what one can do with no hips.

I’ve had two dogs. The first was abused by a Deputy Sheriff, terrified of men in uniform, men with a cap, men in general and all children. I cured her of that in a month. Well, until my Navy neighbor came out in his dress whites. I just said “Chani, it’s Chris!” and she ran up to him and luckily didn’t get any yellow fur on his uniform. He usually wore a tee-shirt and camo shorts to work. She had never seen uniform or lid.

Zoe was to be raised from the day she turned six weeks old, a little puff ball, to now, with love and training and knowing she would be with us for the rest of her life. We’re family. We have inspiration, aspirations and have shared some perspiration to get there.

I like to think our little family has harmony. My brother just says Zoe is needy. Well, she has her own sign language (stare language) and sometimes he and usually I, know what she wants or needs. Out? Need “Precious” that is her only toy?

There was a terrible story yesterday about a tremendously malnourished, frightened and probably abused dog. She looks like my Chani before rehabilitation. Now with a foster family, I hope she gets the food and care she needs to find her own forever home. I know we saved Zoe, as in Texas rather than have two hip surgeries many would have put a bullet in her head. She chose well. Zoe has taught us too, and made a lot of friends. I will be with her, holding her, until the last moment of her life. Right now she’s happy and healthy.

Zoe was offered a mowed goat pen first time in Texas 13 years ago, so I asked my husband to go without us. Then his dad scrubbed an old dog crate and put it in my husband’s old room. Zoe walked in and out in a few seconds and wanted the bed. Now she stands on the sofa on “grandpa’s spot” and watches him come home from feeding the cattle. As she ages I do not wish to fly her anymore. If I’m driving, she has her own setup in back with 4″ orthopedic bed…and she still loves the car. When we fly in “grandma” is always upset that Zoe is missing, even bought her a matching stocking to ours last year because “she’s family.” We do up to five days of cooking and need someone to pick up crumbs. That would be Zoe. Here’s to the dogs in our lives! Dee

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Posted in animals, Editorial, editorial pets, Education, Family, Zoe

Water and Dr. Dog

Posted on May 9, 2017 | Leave a comment

Two days ago we received a notice on the elevator that our water was being shut off by the city. Then an email saying “Please plan your day accordingly.”

I’ve been through a Cat 5 hurricane, blogging it. 149 of 150 lofts were damaged. Ours was not. My husband and dog slept through the night, clueless while I watched trees sway side to side in 80 mph winds and the Bayou rise 25 feet.

Saying to a young mother that she will be without water and to “plan accordingly” is city-speak for we don’t care about you and are not going to give you a hurricane plan sheet about a water shutoff to families with young children and retirees. They don’t give any plans for conserving water to use during the days in question. I don’t trust the city to do the work, get it done in time and it may be days without water and people will die.

We have a hurricane kit and have already delivered an empty six-gallon water vessel for our neighbors to fill and to do what I will do in a few hours. Fill tubs, pitchers, and one sink with soapy water. Six gallon hard plastic tub is filled and sitting in the shower to be used for washing hands and dishes. Water flowers and plants. Use pitchers to get tub water to place in tank to flush toilet when needed.

It’s two hours before I have to get up to finish preparations. I don’t want any more “they’re doing this, not us” going on. The management company doesn’t care that we pay a premium to live here. We live with basketball stars, baseball stars, TV news personalities and hockey elites and I enjoy sports and see players on a regular basis. It’s “hey, how’s it going? Can I pet your dog?” Not me. Him.

Yes, everyone asks this of our old dog Zoe. Look! It’s Zoe! I don’t ask who they are. If they’re tall and skinny I ask how it is to be a linebacker. It’s a joke.

We’ll all be without water today and I’ve tried to get the City and our residents covered in terms of conserving water for daily use for the outage. No one will respond. There are no instructions. Today I help folks with water, tomorrow it’s baby food and blind dogs.

I talked to a dog maven yesterday about the blind neighbor dog. He gave me pointers and asked for a report. He charges for consultations but did not charge me. I’ve been interviewed on his radio show before and he remembered me from over 20 years ago. He asked me questions and one had two bad answers. I chose the best then offered a third option, to give the dog a chance. I passed. He is a brilliant man and has helped me not only with my dogs, but through that training volunteers to care for spay/neuter feral cats, dealing with kids, families and work. Don’t tell him, it’ll go to his Mensa head! Cheers! Dee

 

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Posted in animals, Editorial, editorial pets, Family

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Hey There Delilah

Posted on March 12, 2017 | Leave a comment

I am taking up guitar again and had mine reconditioned and just got my music from storage. Homage to the Plain White T’s for the only song I have that is of this century. Dad was a musician so I’ll take it up for him. His life was more important than me giving up violin after seven years to go to the mall with my gal pals.

Delilah is my computer, my savior ten years ago when we moved overseas. I could get access to bill pay, Skype and talk to home. She was a peach but I’m three OS’s behind and software is blocking me now.  I’ll save you ICE (in case of emergency) but yesterday my husband made me get a new laptop, it’s charging right now. I’m sorry. It’s half your weight and 1/3 the thickness, more oomph for memory, storage and battery life. And my husband is getting me a newer, bigger monitor. I just have to find a new “skin” for my cord-free keyboard.

Sorry for “cheating” on you. You’ve been a stalwart friend who has helped me write, pay bills and taxes, and answer emails. Thank you for your service. It is much appreciated. Thanks, D, from Dee and thank you, reader! Tonight it’s NY Strip and loaded baked potato. I have to figure out how to hide kale. Hmmmm, Dee

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Euthanasia

Posted on March 8, 2017 | 1 comment

Yes, it means death. It is allowed for pets but not for people. Only secretly for people.

For a cherished pet a proper parent should make the decision when there is no other alternative, hold that pet and be there.

For pets I would ask that there is a special room with a panic button. My old dog got up five times after the anesthesia and I couldn’t call on anyone. It was heartbreaking for me because I knew it was the last time I would see her alive and I didn’t want her to suffer. Because of what I went through, they’ve a “death wing” with a separate checkout and back door for payment, and the rooms have panic buttons to summon assistance.

I know that this is to prevent grieving pet owners from paying the death bill in front of others at the front desk. Two friends arrived at the hospital and visited my Chani before she died. In the end, Chani had bled out and had no hope of survival.

When I got home I called a dear friend and her husband answered the phone. Are you sitting down? Yes. I lost Chani. I’ll be right there to help you find her. This is an Army Ranger, yes, the Army Ranger.

No, she’s gone. What do you need? Companionship and a good glass of Pinot. He ran for me with a precious glass. I jumped the wall 200 feet away and we missed each other. He’d called his wife to come home, and when I arrived he arranged to have Chani’s remains given to me, not fodder for a pet cemetery.

I had spent six years trying to gain legal leash-free areas in our city. The entire neighborhood donated money to the city for a tree in her memory. The city decided the type, location and size of tree and the money and we paid  it. Then there was a big fight with neighbors who didn’t like dogs in “their” park.

Time was spent with both of my parents, who are gone now. They both had onsets of debilitating diseases that were accelerated by either medical mistakes or diseases of just being in a hospital. Mom died. Dad just died weeks ago. I can’t even find his grave. They both went through torture just to decide to die. My pets had a better death.

We scattered Chani’s ashes, at night, everywhere. But I’ve the last thing she brought to the park, a large teddy bear I bought at a garage sale for fifty cents, from a woman who hated me for trying to allow dogs in the park. A milliner friend, dear friend, placed ashes in the bear and sewed on a heart with lace and beading and everything.

I spoke with said other mother this evening. My new old dog, 13 years, would eat Chani’s bear so I keep it up high, always remembering the family that called me their daughter and still do so. She’s getting older. We had a good talk this evening and I promised a visit.

As to trees, there are so many now I can’t even see Chani’s on Google Earth. I heard the Wicked Witch of the West is no longer controlling “her” park so will visit, place flowers and water on her tree, and meet the people who made me, me. Thanks from your only daughter, Dee

 

 

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Posted in animals, Editorial, Family, truth, Zoe

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Dictionary Game

Posted on February 28, 2017 | Leave a comment

My aunts came up with this. Fifteen of us on an extended vacation. “halfway” in cars. We never know if we’d be stuck in rain or snow so my two favorite English teachers came up with a game.

They brought a dictionary and as kids, we had to open a page and look at a word we’d never heard of and learn and make up a meaning. “This is how lemmings fall off cliffs.” We could make up the verbiage, all write it down on a slip of paper and someone who was not playing would read out the papers and the contestants would vote for the most plausible definition.

It taught me a lot about our family, education, and made me want to learn. Oh, I was always one to turn to funny so never “won.” Lemmings. It wasn’t about that for me, just being with family.

There may be a family reunion for the first time in many years. We’ve gained a few in marriages and children, but lost a few along the way. If our Aunts cannot bring board games to the table, I’ve a possible solution as a gift for the M’s or us, after we play the Dictionary Game. Winner gets it. We have to see who shows up, first! This is not halfway!

We have to fly from 1500 to 3000 miles away so we’ll see when it is and how it goes. That was not a proper sentence. I always think about my aunts when I write. I purposely break rules and they know it, but I like to cook, and they taught me that as well. I break rules there and everywhere.

I never got to be a rebel. Perhaps those few years on the hill during my childhood let me do so rappelling off cliffs, swinging, foraging, dealing with snakes and crayfish (crawdads) et al  but that was just being a kid with boy neighbors.

Rebel didn’t start until my thirties. I met some of the best people and worst people I’ve ever known.

Cheers! Dee

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Posted in Editorial, Family, teaching

What’s Next?

Posted on February 24, 2017 | Leave a comment

I’m stuck with paying bills, doing taxes, an old dog who needs blood work and a home without my husband. Of course we’re still together, it’s just that the jobs got divvied up.

My husband flies home every weekend, usually the plane is late, sometimes a few hours late. He wants a frozen thin-crust pizza and a 2-liter Dr. Pepper. He sleeps ’til noon Saturday, we have lunch and he takes a nap later.

What I don’t know is that if we go where he is, or make his commute shorter, will he still just sleep away the weekend? I’m getting bored with TV and computer while he snores. There’s only one way to know. Visit.

It’s all thunder and lightning and rain here, supposed to be snow. The wind is fierce. Oh, the rain is coming down now, I can hear it. Zoe (the dog) is not going to like that in the morning. I’ll have to find her rain coat. It’s not like she wears clothes or I dress her up. This is for -6 degree weather and snow. It is weather-proof. No, she will not allow any kind of “hat.” Or boots for the excess salt that is placed on sidewalks and streets so the City does not have to plow snow.

Dog towels have a place in this world, I think she has more towels than us. I just dry her off. The storm seems to be moving away, that was a quick one, oh, another has hit. Hard. I’ve always liked thunderstorms but our dogs have not. This old gal is OK with this and fireworks. After all, Pyro Paula was her good friend, creator of the largest land-based fireworks in the USA. Zoe has cataracts now so perhaps she has to depend more on hearing than sight.

Zoe is very smart but not with traffic. If her vision is diminished (we just found out) I hope her hearing is good and that she behaves on the end of my martingale collar and braided leather leash. I’ve arthritis for 30 years, mis-diagnosed for 20. Even though she is 32 lbs. and old, she can pull me over on ice.

I love my husband, our families and our dog. My family moved a lot. It’s an incredible amount of work to move again but I’ll need help this time. Zoe just hid under my desk at my feet. I think it’s time to lift her back up to the bed and say goodnight and good thoughts. Dee

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Life and Trinkets

Posted on February 21, 2017 | Leave a comment

We have lovely things given us over the years by family members. As look around there is art, most done by my father after he took it up at age 80. There is food, travel, Italy and Greece, photography (mine and others). There are flowers. Historic quilts, paintings and memories hang on our walls. And writing doesn’t fit but I’m doing it now.

On a tree or wreath each holiday season I try to capture where we are, and were, at the time. There are hand-made paper ornaments from a theater event I envisioned and executed years ago, a few from my parents who made this a tradition. I try to get us two ornaments for each year in the spirit of what we have experienced. Living in Scotland, the mountains or lakes.

The big things like Italian Majolica serving platters from Dad for our wedding, or my mother’s china service for ten, become smaller when one thinks of the bigger things.

Dad got me a Hi, Dee, drawing of a chef and signature from Andre Soltner. He’s a pre-eminent chef, owner of Lutece in NYC. Dad sent me pashmina scarves and an evil eye bracelet from Turkey, candles from the Netherlands, and a replica of a Medici necklace, not to mention two Ferragamo scarves I’ve yet to find. One was really cool, tied one couldn’t tell what it was, looked like chrysanthemums. Opened, it was a dog. He knew me so well.

My aunts taught me how to cook, entertain, and clean up after myself.  While visiting, as my husband is tall and big, he brushed by a wall upstairs and knocked off and broke a cherished piece. They sent it to us, glued back together, a while later. They have taken us on adventures, actual and literary, to last a lifetime and have always been kind. If I’ve young visitors I’ll need to get a copy of the OED and place it on top of the loo. Said child will need to open the dictionary, find a word he or she does not know. Then go out to the living room and spell it, say whether it is is a noun, verb or adjective, and use it in a sentence. Those attributes and their letting me correct their English exams (only multiple choice with a guide and a red pen) but I read them, Romeo and Juliet…. made me smarter.

My husband’s family, as I now have no parents, have given me the greatest gift of being my family. They have given me perspective (The War of Northern Aggression), conversation, a delightful cook-mate in my mother-in-law, entertainment, adventure (wild hogs, not motorcycles), and much love. First night there meeting the parents my father-in-law met us at the airport with two dozen roses. M gave me a small picture frame into which I placed our favorite wedding photo.

We have her quilts, my husband’s baby book to look through and frame. I must thank them for a really big gift, my husband. Together over fifteen years, married and we’ve a dog to prove it.  Dear old Zoe. Now that’s a gift from the local shelter we gave ourselves. It took a lot of work (me) but she’s a great old dog.

Zoe gives us gifts every day. I’m not talking about the outside ones. The ones that line your heart with love and joy. She is kind and everyone knows her, she’s a mascot around here. With all the things I do, everyone remembers Zoe and calls out for her. If we can pick and train a dog like her for us, that’s a life challenge and it’s OK with me. Dee

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Posted in Editorial, Family, loving life, Zoe

Finished

Posted on February 14, 2017 | 1 comment

Yes, I know the term. We’d spend weeks packing then everything would go into a moving truck and we’d drive all day to a new location. Dad would be so excited to start his new job he’d leave us with The Rule, back out of the driveway and go to work.

The Rule was that every box had to be unpacked before we went to bed. Bedrooms set up, sheets, clothing, books. I have boxes here for nearly five years. It drives my husband nuts. Luckily I’ve recently run into a guy who works at a place that destroys old documents…. for the Pentagon.

I do have some sensitive work documents that must be destroyed. Years ago this company hired a complete idiot to run the place. He immediately fired me. Then he asked me to come in the next day, after I’d given him my key to the office (no fobs or badges back then) and demanded every document I’d ever worked on in past years. I said he should have thought of that while I was being paid.

Then I called and drove to the chairman of the board and told him the story. The new boss wanted confidential information about Board members I had sworn to never reveal, so I told faux boss that unless I was in attendance and the Board voted to do so (they then elected me to the Board) said release would not happen. I still have said information and have never disclosed it. The Chairman laughed and fake boss-man was fired weeks later. To finish this chapter I have to watch these documents be burned and now know how to do so. Finished?

What gets my husband is that our home still has 10-15 boxes. For me, I’d like my Ferragamo scarves, which I’ve yet to find. He wants to get rid of everything. I need to go through it.

I’ve been forced to move about 40 times in my life. I take care of a husband (and him, me), and an old dog. Dad is finished, died over the holidays. I don’t abide by his rules anymore. Yes, I’d like to finish the boxes and completely clean the oven and frig. And get my keyboard out of storage. I’m having a set-up for my guitar and plan to take up music again because that was Dad’s love. I see music in my head all the time and I’m wearing a wooden guitar pick with a Celtic knot design on a leather cord around my neck for his memory.

As Bob Dylan would say: Yes, and how many years can some people exist
Before they’re allowed to be free? Yes, and how many times can a man turn his head
And pretend that he just doesn’t see?

The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind. The answer is blowin’ in the wind. I love and will badly paraphrase the Arlo Guthrie story that says writing music is like fishing. Just don’t set up downstream from Bob Dylan.

I’m not finished. My health suffers but I’ve things to do and people and animals to care for. My time has never been my own, but I’m not finished, yet.

After I took dear old Zoe to the vet to check out a growth and get her nails trimmed and new heartworm meds, I went to an excellent pharmacy for a “sock consultation.” Yes, my current compression socks are impeding, not enhancing, circulation. Zoe stayed in the shade, in my car, windows cracked appropriately. She now has cataracts. So do I. She’s over 90 in “people years,” happy and healthy and I hope to be so as well. I’m not finished yet.

There are things to do, meals to plan and cook, people to see, pets to love. Dad is gone, not forgotten, ever. A wonderful piece was just written about him the other day. It was not a press release. Someone actually put thought into it and even mentioned two of my mentors my freshman year in college. I watched his coffin go down into a grave and the cemetery says they don’t know his name or of his existence there or anywhere. I do. I’m not finished. Neither is he. His life will be recognized.

Happy Hallmark holiday! We don’t celebrate it as I buy my husband flowers every week after 15 years of him doing so for me, and asked 15 years ago to not have a diamond engagement ring. I did get a sterling silver claddagh ring for a belated birthday one year because I’ve always wanted one and wear it every day. I can say they’re the quirkiest gifts I’ve ever received, “golf bracelets” with magnets that have quelled my wrist arthritis for over a decade. God bless him. Dee

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The Dictionary Game

Posted on January 26, 2017 | Leave a comment

My father hated “room picnics” but my aunts devised them for inexpensive lunches between swims at a place “halfway” between our cousins, grandfather, and us.

They’re retired English teachers so brought a dictionary. We did not have Monopoly or Scrabble, we had the Dictionary Game.

Open a dictionary to any random page. Find a word you’ve never seen. Then spell it, define it and use it in a sentence. Write it down on a scrap of paper. Give it to the person who is not playing to read to the group. The vote goes to the person who gave the best answer, right or not.

I always went for funny so always lost. Tibia, one of the sirens near Scylla and Charybdis on the Greek Isles. The name means “between a rock and a hard place.” I was left between Scylla and Charybdis when I visited Greece and had to choose a cigar, with a language barrier, to bring home to Dad.

We did sail by and say farewell to Odysseus one year. The tibia is a bone in your lower leg (calf) next to the fibula. I told you I always lost the game. There was fun in swimming all day, eating lunch in and dinner out, and playing games. I just let my imagination go, and loved losing to my cousins and siblings. Here’s to happy times! Dee

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Hi, Dad!

Posted on December 26, 2016 | Leave a comment

You used to always say “Hi, Dee”on the phone in a Cary Grant kind of voice that I haven’t heard for a few weeks. Christmas came and went, there was no call and I didn’t even get to send you mincemeat for tarts.

You made magic wherever you went. You were not Santa, except for your kids in olden days with “some assembly required.” But for others and us you always made us believe that if we worked at it, anything was possible. It is a gift that makes the lives you’ve touched better, that people you’ve met can believe in themselves and make the world a better place with education and love.

The neighbors used to call on him every night to come out and play. Everyone on the street got to play. I’d carry a baby to base and back and the outfielders would purposely flounder to get her to home. YEA!

Now our home is filled with floral arrangements and trees from people who never knew your name, heritage, accomplishments except that I lost my Dad.

It is sad that it took your passing to bring together your “kids” after years apart after Mom died. As the eldest and working with your best bud we will try to keep this together in your memory.

There’s something you did not get to see, the Dancers charcoal sketch from a student art winner you gave me 25 years ago. I finally got it framed, beautifully, shortly before your death. I’m having others done of your life and works.

You always said you were proud of me and that I could be anything, an astronaut or president. I am proud of you, Dad, for inspiring everyone you knew to be all that we could be.

There is a photo of me at six months of age and you under 30 years old. We were at a picnic in the mountains. A strange dog came up. You held me close to keep me safe but reached out to let me know how and when to pet a dog, and all I wanted to do in my little mind was say, “Dad, let me pet the dog!”

I’ve been my father’s daughter all my life. That will not change. Challenging authority was what he did to save organizations and create change. He taught us to think outside the box and create solutions to complex problems.

I didn’t hear “hi, Dee” yesterday as I did see his body go into the ground. I still talk to him, however, no replies, but I can grieve this way. I would rather think of him as inspiration. He was, and is and will always be so.

In memory of my father, Dee

 

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