The life lessons we learned at the animal shelter

When my children stated they wanted to do community service by volunteering at a local animal shelter, I couldn’t have been happier.  Truth be told, I would probably be a hoarder with fifty dogs if it wasn’t for my wonderful, conservative husband.  

I have to admit we were caught off guard our first trip there.  Not only is it hard to see all the animals in kennels, we were also side by side with female inmates from the local jail which was a first for us.

 

We also witnessed several owner surrenders.  A family brought in their three yard dogs; one with its ears ripped open and bleeding after being bit. We noticed that no one in the family seemed upset.

Then we watched as a woman surrendered her sweet bulldog at the front desk because “she was moving and they wouldn’t allow dogs there”.  The dog had a heavy chain for a collar and leash, which was bothersome to see.  My daughter whispered after the woman left, “she is probably going to jail and that is why she can’t keep the dog.”  I chuckled a bit at the irony of her comment.

We felt validated at the animal shelter. we were doing the right thing.  We have two rescues at home, and loved getting the sweet dogs out for some play time.  And, who gives up their dog?

Then on the way home, I remembered that we actually surrendered our dog Buffi to an animal shelter 12 years ago.  She had tried to bite our baby.  I tried to rehome her sitting with her at Petsmart on Saturdays, but as she snarled at people and bared her teeth, it didn't really go well.   When my husband took Buffi to that shelter years ago, they didn’t even take her collar.  She would immediately be put down.  My husband was one of those people in the foyer. 

But many years had passed, and I was quick to judge the owner surrenders I witnessed.   

Several visits later to the animal shelter, we were walking the dogs outside for some time in their chain link fence pens. The male inmates in the jail next door were given their “outside” time in their much larger chain link kennel.  My girls were quite uncomfortable by the all the inmates in uniform.  They chose to stay inside in the puppy room and avoid seeing the inmates.  I was uncomfortable too.  I was envisioning cat calls and chose to avoid the dog run areas which were close to the inmates. 

The inmates were a big point of conversation that day.  We talked about life choices and how you don’t want to end up in jail.

Then something happened the next night at dinner.  As we were saying grace before the meal, my oldest prayed for our sick friends.  Then my youngest added, “We should pray for the inmates too”.

That’s when I realized volunteering at the shelter wasn’t just about walking the dogs.   

"In all things I have shown you that by working hard in this way we must help the weak and remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he himself said, ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’ "Acts 20:35.

Motherhood turned me into an Animal

And many at that.   

One moment I'm a mama bird, firm on life lessons and consequences, pushing my baby bird out of the nest.   

Mess with my kids? I turn into a mama bear.

 

Then there’s the moment, “Mom, I don’t feel like you are listening…are you on Facebook?” and I want to put my head in the ground like an ostrich (after I comment on my friends post).
 

Not sure they are behaving?
I have the supersonic hearing of a bat.


When teaching my children,
I want to be a leader of the the pack.

During play, I want the freedom of
 a dolphin jumping in the sea beside them.  

 Those quiet moments when my children are hurt, scared or
 they have self doubt,
I am a  kangaroo with my baby back in my pouch.

When my children amaze me by just being..... themselves, I feel like a lion holding my mane up high a top a beautiful mountain. 
 

 And when my patience is tested,

I climb into a Eucalyptus tree quietly like a koala bear. 

Thankfully, the Eucalyptus tree sometimes has wine in it.

 

Like swans, I have found a mate for life who can help
navigate this parenting jungle.

And like the ants who team up to carry one piece of
food for the whole crew,
I have many family, friends and God to lighten the load.

But no matter where life takes us,
my children will always be as miraculous
 and fragile as a nest of baby eggs in the wild.   

 

 

 

Grief ~ It's Simple

1. 
   

   . 

   Yes, this is a wood block.
   We are off to a good start. 

   
   

   PHYSICS 101     Work = Force x Distance. 

   The unit of force being Newtons. 

   
   

   (don't go thinking I am all of a sudden a genius, 

   they teach this stuff in 4th grade)

   
   

   So the Newton is the measure of energy it takes  to move an object.  

   
   

   Say you push or pull the block on the left, you are going to use a certain amount of energy or force or newtons. 

   
   

   
   

   

   Say you add wheels to the object, making it a SIMPLE MACHINE. Why golly, it takes less work...newtons.... & force!
   What on earth do you ask, does have to do with Grief??? 

   Earlier this year I attended my Uncle's  funeral. He was in the Marine Corp. There must have been twenty marines in uniform that were standing guard at his funeral. You could see the sadness on their faces, as they mourned with our family.  I hope their presence helped my Aunt that day with her grieving...each marine being like a wheel on the block, making her load easier to carry. 

   
   

   

   I saw it again when my best friend's parents were tragically killed in a car accident this year. People helped her and her family as they grieved. Whether it was a hugs, cards, meals, babysitting, prayers, each person was like a wheel on the block helping make their load lighter... 
2. I saw this again when a friends mother passed away shortly after that. When I stopped over she mentioned how a stranger brought brownies and a neighbor mowed their lawn. Again, people were the wheels on the block to help pull them through.  

   
   

   

   Today, 9/11, eleven years after the tragedy

   it still sits heavy on every one's hearts today. 

   
   

   And it sits much heavier on the hearts of those who lost loves ones in those awful events or were helping with rescue efforts. 

   
   

   Hopefully those families feel a nation mourning with them 

   and it is helping pull them through today, like the wheels on the block. 

   
   

   Well, I am sure Grief is still sitting heavy on the hearts of my Aunt, my bestie and my friend and their families now and for sometime to come. Just as we haven't forgotten about 9/11, we mustn't forget about the other people so we can be the wheels to help pull them through.... it might be a little weird if you were to run over and mow their lawn at this point, but you can surely share a laugh or a smile. 

   
   

   
   

      

   
   

Praying for a baby...

Recently I shared my testimony with my church, and it seems like a fitting place to start. My parents were separated right after I was born and officially divorced when I was two. I was not “knowingly” baptized as a child. (my father’s mother may have had my brother and I baptized, which doesn’t surprise me!) 

I grew up in a Unitarian church with my mom, and The Catholic church when visiting my dad.  At a Catholic service with my dad I almost gave my step-grandmother a heart attack doing the sign of the cross with the left hand instead of right. I think it is the sign of devil or something, who knew???

Fast forward to being happily married with a beautiful 6-week old child and after seeing that little miracle, it was time to go to church! So we went to a church across the street and were received by a wonderful congregation of elderly folks eager to show us some love.  Not having family of our own in town, it was a perfect fit.

Unbeknown to us, at that same church, a wonderful lady, Belle, had been sitting in the church nursery for six months by herself each Sunday.  She sat and prayed for a baby to come to the church. Well, she prayed and we arrived. Belle was a little upset with me though because I was quite the neurotic first time mom and wouldn’t leave our baby in the     nursery with her… at least for the first couple months. 

We later joined that church, (Grace United Methodist Church) in Savannah, GA, and on my 30th birthday I was baptized there, as well as our first child. It was a wonderful start for my little family in understanding the importance of the church and a church family. I also learned that church people are “normal” too. And because I was “officially a Christian”, I wasn’t expected to be perfect, or be just like anyone else. That Faith wasn’t a thing, but a Journey.

I became friends with the pastor, Brother Eric, and his wife, Carol, and we often had refreshing, candid conversations as my year old daughter would take all the books off the shelf in his office, one by one. They forgave me when I made homemade chicken pot pie and Brother Eric had a mild heart attack after he left that evening… I also learned about the painful loss of their young son Jonathon to a brain tumor on May 19th, 1982.  

While at Grace, I collaborated on a wonderful VBS that had almost 60 kids, the prior year there were only 10. It was a huge success, and just what this stay-at-home mom’s confidence needed, a match made in Heaven! But it wasn’t until 9 years later, when I was writing down my thoughts  to share my testimony, that I realized the importance of Belle faithfully praying each Sunday for a baby.