March 24, 2012
Today, I had the energy to go grocery shopping. Whoohoo!! I can home laid down for a while, then made myself get up to mow and trim the front lawn. Right now, I am actually feeling alright. Tonight, however, may be a little different story. Getting to sleep has been a bit of a problem, especially in the past week because of the aches throughout my body. However, once I am asleep, I stay asleep. Since I chose to mow and trim the lawn this evening, I am definitely going to feel more aches tonight. I remember (especially during the summer) when I dreaded mowing the yard. Texas summers are hot. In July and August, the best time to mow your lawn is close to sundown. Now, I look forwarded to the work, even though I will not be able to keep it up much longer. I pride myself in having a nice looking yard. My home sits on a corner lot on a busy street. Neighbors going in and out of the neighborhood see my lawn daily. So, I want to keep it looking nice. The drought last summer burned most of the front and back lawn, like it did my neighbors lawns. But the recent rains are helping the grass grow back slowly. The rose bushes in the front look great, the Oleanders on the side of the house are big, full, and have red blooms. I am growing small vegetable plants to be planted in the community garden. Life is good. Its funny how when you are unable to do something you dreaded before you became sick, now is the one thing you would gladly do without hesitating or complaining.
I love my neighborhood. When I am working in the front yard, many of my students who have lived in the neighborhood, wave hello or stop and talk to me. Many of them are in middle school or high school now. When they were my students, they were in elementary school. I marvel at how much they have grown and matured. They greet me with a smile and a hug. All of them are taller then me. We laugh at how little they use to be and how they tower over me now. I am so proud of them. One little boy who lives down the street is the son of a preacher and his wife. The preacher was a teacher for 40 years, then retired. Now he heads a church of his own in Austin. When they first moved in their boy was a baby, maybe a few months old. Now he is 12 years old. The neighbors across the street adopted a little puppy for their children when they first moved in. The other day the puppy got out of their back yard. “Puppy“is now a fully grown dog, about 70lbs. When I saw this dog, I asked them, “What ever happened to the little puppy you adopted?” “That’s him.” “No. The little puppy who use to play in your front yard with your kids.” “That’s him.” It is hard to believe that 8 years has gone by since I first saw that little puppy playing in their yard.
All of my babies (four cats: Alex, Callie, Izzy, and Grace, and one little dog, Scout) grew up in this house. Our house is the only home they have ever know, except for Scout. I adopted him at 6 months of age from the animal shelter in Austin. They picked him up in some neighbor hood in Austin along with 5 other dogs. He was at the shelter for some time, and no one came to claim him. The shelter initially, was not going to let me adopt him because they said he was not “adoptable.” This means, they were going to put him down. I ask them why he was not “adoptable.” The behavior specialist said he had a bad temperament. I asked them what was his behavior like. They told me he just sits in a corner by himself. He does not interact with the other dog in the cage with him, he bit the shelter doctor, and he is just not sociable.
Scout was 4.5 lbs when they picked him up He was a tiny dog. They put him in a cage with a dog twice his size. He bit the doctor when he was getting his vaccinations. There are times I would like to bite the doctor who plunges needles in my arms to give me a flu shot or take blood samples. When I first saw Scout, he looked very sad and withdrawn. I loved him at first site. My Silky Terrier, Toby, had died in 2006. He was 14 years old. I had him since he was 2 months old. Toby was a great dog. He was beautiful. During the last two years of his life, he had diabetes. So, for two years I would give him two injections of insulin a day. He died of a tumor on his liver. I had him cremated. His remains are with me today. I adopted Toby on December 31, 1992. I did not go out to celebrate New Years that night. I did not want to leave my little boy along on his first night in his new home. We fell asleep on the sofa with a fire in the fireplace, his little head resting on my chest. From that New Years on, Toby and I celebrated a quiet, peaceful welcoming of each new year, falling asleep on the sofa, a fire in the fireplace, in the peace and quite of our home. When he died, I cried. I didn’t want to get another dog right away. So, I waited. Two years later, I adopted Scout. Scout, myself, and my other babies, all celebrate the new year the same way Toby and I did. Being with my babies is better than any New Year’s party I have ever attended. My friends think I’m crazy. I would rather be home, safe and sound, surrounded by my babies, than out on the roads competing with drunk drivers who may or may not make it home.
My students knew how much I loved my babies. One of them gave me a copy of A Pet’s Prayer several years ago.
A Pet’s Prayer
By
Beth Norman Harris
Treat me kindly, my beloved master, for no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart in me.
Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I should lick your hand between the blows, your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me the things you would have me do.
Speak to me often, for your voice is the world’s sweetest music, as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail when your footstep falls upon my waiting ear.
When it is cold and wet, please take me inside, for I am now a domesticated animal, no longer used to bitter elements. And I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth. Though had you no home, I would follow you through ice and snow than rest upon the softest pillow in the warmest home in all the land, for you are my god and I am your devoted worshiper.
Keep my pan filled with fresh water for although I should not reproach you were it dry, I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst. Feed me clean food, that I may stay well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side, and stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life should your life be in danger.
And, beloved master, should the great Master see fit to deprive me of my health or sight, do not turn me away from you. Rather, hold me gently in your arms as skilled hands grant me the merciful boon of eternal rest - and I will leave you knowing with the last breath I drew, my fate was ever safest in your hands.
