1 February 2016
I have been asked to teach a family history lesson this coming Sunday, for Relief Society. As I was studying and reading and looking for information....I thought to myself, what a great personal history we create when we write a blog or participate in Facebook or some of the other online places where we share with one another.
We journal almost every day about our comings and goings. We tell things that in some instances we would not share with friends, must less, strangers. Then I began to wonder, why do we do that?
Why do we tell people on FB about our struggles, our victories, our sorrows, our jobs, our homes, our illnesses, our future plans, things that we would like to have happen, but never do, how our children are doing in school, what we had for dinner, or about that party that is coming up to celebrate a special occurance in our lives or the lives of our loved ones?
Maybe we do it as a way of going back to the days that we wrote letters to family members and friends. I heard recently that the reason that we love Irish Music if we have Irish ancestors or we love animals, or we have a special affection for reading or painting is because of somethingI just learned about, called "genetic recall". It's in our genes. Can you imagine that. How important are our ancestors to who we are today.
I am sure that some of my ancestors were better letter writers than others. I love to read about their goings and comings. So what has changed....nothing really. Just the way that we communicate things that years ago we would have written in a letter are now communicated quickly online.
I can imagine my great Aunt Ota, sitting in her special chair (She was a very tiny lady and had trimmed some off of the legs to make it fit her petite frame) writing about the "Travel Club" she belonged to. They did not really travel, but read books about places they would love to go, but never would be able to, and then would report it to their friends who belonged to the same, very special "Travel Club". They went all over the world, but never left home.
So as I ponder the lesson I will be giving this coming Sunday, I will be thinking about my ancestors and their lives and how who they were, affects who I am today and who you are. Happy personal family history writing to you. It's in your genes.
Saturday, August 6, 2016
Off to Pine Valley - Summer of 2015
How shocked we were recently when we were called to serve a six month, stay-at-home mission to the Pine Valley Chapel Historic Site, Pine Valley, Utah.
Seeing as how I know so little about the early pioneers that came to this beautiful area, I certainly felt inadequate to once again represent my Heavenly Father and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I prayed hard for the Holy Ghost to be my constant companion as I greeted people coming to the Chapel for a tour. I wanted to be an instrument in the hands of God to have them feel of my love for Him and the true Gospel of Jesus Christ. I found that to be a huge calling.
Well, for some reason I did not publish this blog last year. Here it is Summer 2016 and my experience at Pine Valley is complete. It was a wonderful time, but also very difficult. You wouldn't think that just one day - all day Saturday- could be so hard, but we would have as many as 150 people come to visit that day. Telling the story of the chapel and the people during the time of the building of the chapel could get tedious. There were times that I would see someone smiling and I would say to them, "I already said that, didn't I"? And they would laugh and we would all have a good laugh at Sister Glasgow.
But, very similar to our mission in Hawaii, as I look back I can see the hand of God and how he walked and talked with me each day I was there serving. I was blessed with great health and a clear mind. At my age, that is always a great, great blessing.
And so, another year has passed and I look at the picture on the wall of us on our mission plaque and am grateful for just one more blessing in my life. Heavenly Father knows me, and loves me and needs me to serve for him. I am his today and always.
6-23-19 Just decided to add a note to my blog and found that I had never published this one. Never to late I guess.
Seeing as how I know so little about the early pioneers that came to this beautiful area, I certainly felt inadequate to once again represent my Heavenly Father and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I prayed hard for the Holy Ghost to be my constant companion as I greeted people coming to the Chapel for a tour. I wanted to be an instrument in the hands of God to have them feel of my love for Him and the true Gospel of Jesus Christ. I found that to be a huge calling.
Well, for some reason I did not publish this blog last year. Here it is Summer 2016 and my experience at Pine Valley is complete. It was a wonderful time, but also very difficult. You wouldn't think that just one day - all day Saturday- could be so hard, but we would have as many as 150 people come to visit that day. Telling the story of the chapel and the people during the time of the building of the chapel could get tedious. There were times that I would see someone smiling and I would say to them, "I already said that, didn't I"? And they would laugh and we would all have a good laugh at Sister Glasgow.
But, very similar to our mission in Hawaii, as I look back I can see the hand of God and how he walked and talked with me each day I was there serving. I was blessed with great health and a clear mind. At my age, that is always a great, great blessing.
And so, another year has passed and I look at the picture on the wall of us on our mission plaque and am grateful for just one more blessing in my life. Heavenly Father knows me, and loves me and needs me to serve for him. I am his today and always.
6-23-19 Just decided to add a note to my blog and found that I had never published this one. Never to late I guess.
Thursday, November 13, 2014
Don and the Gopher, a Battle of Wills
I went out one morning and what did I see? Right in our beautifully landscaped front area, the most wonderful little pile of dirt. It was so perfectly formed, that one almost was afraid to touch it for fear it would just collapse. It really was a work of art, and one could tell that it was the work of an industrious critter.
I inquired of our neighbors if they too had been the recipients of these beautifully made piles of red dirt. Low and behold they had and had found the perfect solution to these appearing on their property. I was so excited, that I immediately went home and found Don and told him that it was an easy fix. There are these little traps that you just stick down under the piles of dirt in their tunnels and amazingly that would take care of our little visitor. Our dear neighbor said he would come over and between the two of them, they would set the trap and in a couple of hours, and at the most, over night all would be well.
A month or more later and many, many holes later we are still battling Sir Gopher. He has made many, many of his wonderful creations all over our front property, including up our rock wall onto the dirt by the street. Don will come in and say, the trap is no longer set, but no Sir Gopher and just to show us who is boss, another beautiful, perfect pile of dirt. Don has had many ideas of what is wrong, as had our neighbor, but to no avail. At this point we have to admire his determination and artistic ability and almost want him to continue to vex Don and all of his attempts to capture him.
It makes me think about how important it is to be industrious and persevere in spite of what others might do or think. Just keep on keeping on. Don't let anyone stand in our way, no matter what. But we do have to be very clever.
I just told Don I was writing this blog and he said, Oh , I need to go out and check the trap. Personally, deep down I sort of hope Sir gopher has gotten away again. He deserves it. Don came in and here is what he caught......a rock. He said, Sir Gopher put it there. And life goes on for another day.
I inquired of our neighbors if they too had been the recipients of these beautifully made piles of red dirt. Low and behold they had and had found the perfect solution to these appearing on their property. I was so excited, that I immediately went home and found Don and told him that it was an easy fix. There are these little traps that you just stick down under the piles of dirt in their tunnels and amazingly that would take care of our little visitor. Our dear neighbor said he would come over and between the two of them, they would set the trap and in a couple of hours, and at the most, over night all would be well.
A month or more later and many, many holes later we are still battling Sir Gopher. He has made many, many of his wonderful creations all over our front property, including up our rock wall onto the dirt by the street. Don will come in and say, the trap is no longer set, but no Sir Gopher and just to show us who is boss, another beautiful, perfect pile of dirt. Don has had many ideas of what is wrong, as had our neighbor, but to no avail. At this point we have to admire his determination and artistic ability and almost want him to continue to vex Don and all of his attempts to capture him.
It makes me think about how important it is to be industrious and persevere in spite of what others might do or think. Just keep on keeping on. Don't let anyone stand in our way, no matter what. But we do have to be very clever.
I just told Don I was writing this blog and he said, Oh , I need to go out and check the trap. Personally, deep down I sort of hope Sir gopher has gotten away again. He deserves it. Don came in and here is what he caught......a rock. He said, Sir Gopher put it there. And life goes on for another day.
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Writing my personal history
I have begun writing my personal history. It is harder than I thought it would be. I should have done it sooner, because I am sure there are things that I will forget, important things. But is has been such great fun. My younger years seem to just come flooding into my mind as I sit and contemplate who I am and was. At first I thought I can't remember any of that stuff, but the mind is a magic thing and it can help you remember things that you thought were long forgotten. Recalling things such as: things we as children used to do for fun, very different than what children do these days. We spent almost all of our time outside playing. If we were inside, we heard "Go outside and play". So we really had no choice.
But what great times we had on the family farm in Hamilton, Illinois--walks in the woods, wading in the creek that went through the property, riding on the handlebars of my brothers bike, since he was the only one that had a bike, in fact sometimes he would ride two of us, one of us on the bar and of course, me on the handlebars; picnics in the woods; softball games with the neighbors across the road, hide and go seek; statue; sleeping under the stars; making clouds into things....dogs, horses, airplanes....; and watching for the real airplane that might just fly over. That was a very big deal. Everyone stopped to watch the plane as it went by. It was almost a celebration. Of course, it was right after World War II, and we were so proud of our men in uniform.
And, were we picky about what we ate for meals......of course not. We were glad to have enough food to eat and we loved all of it. I can't remember ever complaining about anything that I was served. I do remember fresh chicken....sure did hate the part that came before the good eating tho. But it was a necessity then. No frozen chicken parts for us. Well I did just think of a part of the chicken I didn't like-----the gizzard. Too tough to chew. Otherwise, it was all good. Then the feathers were used for bedding quilts and mattresses. Wow, am I old.
Why is it important to remember and write down these things---so that our children and other relatives will know who they are and where they came from. If we don't record it, it will be lost. How many times have I wished that one of my ancestors had written about the time that they lived. How did you survive the Civil War? Why did you only serve in the Civil War for a few months at a time? How did it work for someone to go in your place? What was it like to be part of the group of people that came over to settle Texas? Why is our last name Glasgow, but my DNA tells me I am all Irish....no Scottish at all. What is that story? Who is that lady standing next to you in the really old picture that you left me? How did you survive the depression? And the questions go on and on. I will probably never answer all of the questions that that nosey great great great grandson asks himself, but I will leave a little of me behind, so that I won't be a complete mystery.
Just know, that whoever you are, even if I never met you, that I have loved you and thought about you more than you will ever know.
God Bless you for asking.
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But what great times we had on the family farm in Hamilton, Illinois--walks in the woods, wading in the creek that went through the property, riding on the handlebars of my brothers bike, since he was the only one that had a bike, in fact sometimes he would ride two of us, one of us on the bar and of course, me on the handlebars; picnics in the woods; softball games with the neighbors across the road, hide and go seek; statue; sleeping under the stars; making clouds into things....dogs, horses, airplanes....; and watching for the real airplane that might just fly over. That was a very big deal. Everyone stopped to watch the plane as it went by. It was almost a celebration. Of course, it was right after World War II, and we were so proud of our men in uniform.
And, were we picky about what we ate for meals......of course not. We were glad to have enough food to eat and we loved all of it. I can't remember ever complaining about anything that I was served. I do remember fresh chicken....sure did hate the part that came before the good eating tho. But it was a necessity then. No frozen chicken parts for us. Well I did just think of a part of the chicken I didn't like-----the gizzard. Too tough to chew. Otherwise, it was all good. Then the feathers were used for bedding quilts and mattresses. Wow, am I old.
Why is it important to remember and write down these things---so that our children and other relatives will know who they are and where they came from. If we don't record it, it will be lost. How many times have I wished that one of my ancestors had written about the time that they lived. How did you survive the Civil War? Why did you only serve in the Civil War for a few months at a time? How did it work for someone to go in your place? What was it like to be part of the group of people that came over to settle Texas? Why is our last name Glasgow, but my DNA tells me I am all Irish....no Scottish at all. What is that story? Who is that lady standing next to you in the really old picture that you left me? How did you survive the depression? And the questions go on and on. I will probably never answer all of the questions that that nosey great great great grandson asks himself, but I will leave a little of me behind, so that I won't be a complete mystery.
Just know, that whoever you are, even if I never met you, that I have loved you and thought about you more than you will ever know.
God Bless you for asking.
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| Family Farm Hamilton Illinois |
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| Farm with my great great grandmother in front ..my Grossmutter |
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| Covered Bridge between Hamilton, Illinois and Keokuk Iowa across the Mississippi River. |
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Monday, August 11, 2014
Catching up
I don't know why I don't write in my blog more often. I have so many things to say, thoughts that come to my mind at the oddest times. Times when I am not near a computer or have my tablet with me.
The last blog I wrote was when we have found out that Don needed to have open hear surgery. Well that has been done (January 8th, 2014) and he is all recovered and doing really great. He did have a cute pre-surgery visitor tho.
We have the best daughter. Caroline and Alaina spent the first few nights in the hospital with him. What a relief that was for me and him.
Thinking of some of the things that happened
during and after the surgery, brings to mind some funny happenings too.
One of the things that they bragged about to us before the surgery was that "he will walk from the ICU to his regular room".
So the morning he was to leave the ICU, I was there waiting for the rehab people to come to get him. While waiting, he got some pretty bad pain and they gave him some "meds". Well about a 1/2 hour after, here they come to get him. Well it was so funny, because they were absolutely positive that he needed to walk to his room. Walk.....he didn't even know where his feet were, he was so loopy. But onward they marched trying to get him to walk. I got to laughing to hard that they were giving me evil looks. Finally, they gave up and off he went in a wheelchair. I don't think those guys from rehab ever forgave me.
This was his walk from the ICU. Just sayin'.
He was tough and did recuperate really quickly. All the doctors said he had an "amazing" recovery. Glad that is over. He was blessed the whole time.
The last blog I wrote was when we have found out that Don needed to have open hear surgery. Well that has been done (January 8th, 2014) and he is all recovered and doing really great. He did have a cute pre-surgery visitor tho.
We have the best daughter. Caroline and Alaina spent the first few nights in the hospital with him. What a relief that was for me and him.
Thinking of some of the things that happened
during and after the surgery, brings to mind some funny happenings too.
One of the things that they bragged about to us before the surgery was that "he will walk from the ICU to his regular room".
So the morning he was to leave the ICU, I was there waiting for the rehab people to come to get him. While waiting, he got some pretty bad pain and they gave him some "meds". Well about a 1/2 hour after, here they come to get him. Well it was so funny, because they were absolutely positive that he needed to walk to his room. Walk.....he didn't even know where his feet were, he was so loopy. But onward they marched trying to get him to walk. I got to laughing to hard that they were giving me evil looks. Finally, they gave up and off he went in a wheelchair. I don't think those guys from rehab ever forgave me.
This was his walk from the ICU. Just sayin'.
He was tough and did recuperate really quickly. All the doctors said he had an "amazing" recovery. Glad that is over. He was blessed the whole time.
And here he is after 36 sessions of rehab. He did spectacular.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
God Has A Plan..........
Well we never know when those curve balls are going come. Recently we found out that Don is going to have to have open heart surgery to replace an aortic valve. Now that sounds really scary to me. As I thought about it, I began to wonder how we can face the challenges that life throws in our pathway.
It reminded me of the day that I found out that I had a tumor on my brain. I have been blessed with such good health that never in a million years would I have expected to hear the words, "You have a mass in your left frontal lobe". I knew right then that I was going to be learning words that I had never heard before and really had no desire to learn. However, as with all things in life, you can only take what you have been given and run with it.
I found that the best thing to do, for me anyway, was to find out all that I could about the "mass" that had invaded my brain. Thanks goodness for the internet. What did we do without it. Of course, it can be a curse and a blessing. We are able to find out everything we need and much more. In a way, it was comforting to find out the "most meningioma are non malignant". However, right on the heels of find that out, I found out that a high school friends husband was suffering from the same thing and eventually died from it, so, what to believe.
So what did I do? I prayed for "a sign". I know, we are not supposed to pray for signs, but I needed to know right then that my Heavenly Father knew me and what I was experiencing. It is funny how prayers are sometimes answered. I needed to get some blood work done before the visit to the neurologist and having the mri. To have this done I had to go to a separate medical office where they did blood draws. There were numerous of these offices on the island of Oahu in this company.
When I was called into the little room to have it done, a nice young, well groomed man came in to wait on me. As we visited, he asked me where we lived and what we were doing in Hawaii. After telling him that we were serving a mission at the PCC, he told me that he too was LDS. I asked him how many of his co workers at all the offices were LDS, and he said, "I believe, I am the only one". Now to many of you reading this, that wouldn't have been a big deal, but remember, I had prayed for a sign that Heavenly Father knew me and what I was going through at that particular moment. He sent the only LDS phlebotomist in this medical group on the whole island of Oahu to be mine at the very moment I needed him. How kind and loving is that. How certain I was from then on that He did know me and cared about me and heard my prayers.
As for Don's heart surgery, we are taking this step by step. It has been interesting how God has placed people around me that have answered questions that we have regarding what to do about the surgery. One was a gentlemen (I would call him older, but......) I met in WalMart. I was looking at things that Don might be able to drink when he just needed something that was good for him. As I picked up a package of drink, this person, also took two six packs of this drink....something like Ensure. So being me, I asked him if he liked it and if it was helping him. He says, "Well, I have had some health issues and this just hits the spot when I need it". Oh, what kind of health issues, I asked..... I am not kidding you, he said, "I just had an aortic heart valve replaced. I did pretty good for someone 90 years old." Coincidence....I don't think so.
Do I always remember these miraculous occurrences? No. But I am trying to be better. Trying to look for the small, simple blessings that come my way each day. I am trying to rely more on the promptings that I can receive if I am only open to them and listening for the whisperings of the Spirit. I am trying to be more grateful for the good things in my life, which are innumerable.
I believe that whether it is Don's heart problem or the "mass" in my brain, all will turn out just the way it is supposed to. Just so you know, "God has a plan"!
It reminded me of the day that I found out that I had a tumor on my brain. I have been blessed with such good health that never in a million years would I have expected to hear the words, "You have a mass in your left frontal lobe". I knew right then that I was going to be learning words that I had never heard before and really had no desire to learn. However, as with all things in life, you can only take what you have been given and run with it.
I found that the best thing to do, for me anyway, was to find out all that I could about the "mass" that had invaded my brain. Thanks goodness for the internet. What did we do without it. Of course, it can be a curse and a blessing. We are able to find out everything we need and much more. In a way, it was comforting to find out the "most meningioma are non malignant". However, right on the heels of find that out, I found out that a high school friends husband was suffering from the same thing and eventually died from it, so, what to believe.
So what did I do? I prayed for "a sign". I know, we are not supposed to pray for signs, but I needed to know right then that my Heavenly Father knew me and what I was experiencing. It is funny how prayers are sometimes answered. I needed to get some blood work done before the visit to the neurologist and having the mri. To have this done I had to go to a separate medical office where they did blood draws. There were numerous of these offices on the island of Oahu in this company.
When I was called into the little room to have it done, a nice young, well groomed man came in to wait on me. As we visited, he asked me where we lived and what we were doing in Hawaii. After telling him that we were serving a mission at the PCC, he told me that he too was LDS. I asked him how many of his co workers at all the offices were LDS, and he said, "I believe, I am the only one". Now to many of you reading this, that wouldn't have been a big deal, but remember, I had prayed for a sign that Heavenly Father knew me and what I was going through at that particular moment. He sent the only LDS phlebotomist in this medical group on the whole island of Oahu to be mine at the very moment I needed him. How kind and loving is that. How certain I was from then on that He did know me and cared about me and heard my prayers.
As for Don's heart surgery, we are taking this step by step. It has been interesting how God has placed people around me that have answered questions that we have regarding what to do about the surgery. One was a gentlemen (I would call him older, but......) I met in WalMart. I was looking at things that Don might be able to drink when he just needed something that was good for him. As I picked up a package of drink, this person, also took two six packs of this drink....something like Ensure. So being me, I asked him if he liked it and if it was helping him. He says, "Well, I have had some health issues and this just hits the spot when I need it". Oh, what kind of health issues, I asked..... I am not kidding you, he said, "I just had an aortic heart valve replaced. I did pretty good for someone 90 years old." Coincidence....I don't think so.
Do I always remember these miraculous occurrences? No. But I am trying to be better. Trying to look for the small, simple blessings that come my way each day. I am trying to rely more on the promptings that I can receive if I am only open to them and listening for the whisperings of the Spirit. I am trying to be more grateful for the good things in my life, which are innumerable.
I believe that whether it is Don's heart problem or the "mass" in my brain, all will turn out just the way it is supposed to. Just so you know, "God has a plan"!
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Things I Have Learned from My Dogs
Today I was reading a blog from a dear friend of my daughters, Jane London. She had to put her dear dog friend, Chili (dog), to sleep after a bout with cancer. Such a sad day for her and her family. She reminds me of me, as she did everything she could think of to save her dear friend and companion. But in the end, we must give them up, for their sake.
It got me to thinking about dogs I have had in my life, and I began to reminisce about them.
The first dog friend that I have any memory of, was my great aunts big Collie namd Ginger. Ginger was her most faithful companion for many, many years as she lived alone on a farm in Illinois. Aunt Ota never married, so her animals where her dearest friends. There was a time in my life that my brothers and I lived on this farm with Aunt Ota for a short time. Dear Ginger was so patient with us kids as we tugged and pulled at her very long, luxurious hair. We even tried to ride her like a horse. She never got upset or tried to injure us in any way. Maybe I should be more like Ginger and be completely loving and patient and forgiving, no matter what might come my way. Lesson number one learned from a dog.
Another dear canine friend that I remember was Poncho. Poncho was a Cocker Spaniel that we got as a puppie. He was a rambutious kidder. He loved to take something (usually something he wasn't supposed to have) and run as fast as he could away from us. Poncho was also a digger. Poncho slept with me and was my very best buddy. Because of my family issues, it sure was nice to have a friend who didn't judge or complain about all of the dysfunction present in my and his life. He was just there when I needed a friend the most. One of my saddest days was when I came home from school one day and he was gone. No explanation or anything, he was just GONE. The lesson I learned from this was that when you lose a friend you will be so sad,and not understand why they had to go so suddenly. But the good memories will sustain you in times of need. I have often wondered what happened to Poncho. I hope he ended up in a good home with a little girl to sleep with and to love him unconditionally.
Then there was Buff. Buff was a huge collie mix. She loved everyone and everyone loved her. I named her Buff from the book, Buff A Dog, that I read many times. I loved to read stories about animals. Now a days I can't read or watch most animal stories as I know that something bad is going to happen and it breaks my heart. One time Buff gave us 13 puppies. Can you imagine having that many puppies running around. She had the first one outside in the cold, cold weather and it didn't survive. I remember wrapping the little one up in a big towel to try to warm its little shivering body. It didn't last the night and I cried for this little soul that I never got to know. She was a dear companion and I think about her now and then. I guess the lesson I learned from her is that our children grow up way too soon and leave us. What we have left are the wonderful memories of their childhoods and fun times we had together as we romped and played.
Then there was Freddie. Freddie was a Cockapoo and oh my was he something. I remember when we brought him home from a trip to Kansas. Back then we had no air conditioning in the car. When we drove we would spray ourselves with water or wet out shirts completely just for some relief from the heat that blasted us through our open car windows. He was suffering too and commandeered one of the wet towels for himself. I should have known that he would be a pistol for his whole life. His favorite thing to do was "door dive". The minute a door was open, he was out and gone. Many a time the neighbors could see one of our family, running furiously after him to try to catch him before he got run over by a car. We could be heard like a famous movie yelling "Freddie come back, come back freddie.". In the end it was completely hopeless. He would not even look back. He was having a ball. I guess what I learned from Freddie was to enjoy life, even if you have to door dive once in a while. Life is short, so enjoy and treasure every moment.
I have found it hard to write about my favorite dogs ever. Our two golden retrievers, Trapper and Drummer. My first memory of Trapper was when he was just a little puppy. We came home one day and found him sound asleep in his big bowl of water. His love for water never waned. He was always ready for a swim. When he went out with me horseback riding, any little puddle, stream or pool of water was a time to party. Of course, life itself was one big party for him.
One day I was out riding and of course the dogs were along for the ride. All at once they both spotted a rabbit in the middle the pasture. With keen accuracy they both took off from different ends of the pasture to "get the rabbitt". The rabbit seeing it's predicament chose to go sideways. The dogs kept on running and passed each other in the middle, but the rabbit was long gone. I don't think that either one of them knew what had happened. What an adventure they had. They didn't care, they were having great fun. I laughed so hard, it is amazing that I didn't fall off my horse.
Drummer was my Christmas present one year. We got him at the animal shelter. He was a "run away" dog. No one could keep him corraled. He was always visiting neighbors, some of whom kept treats just for him when he came to visit. When we came out of the shelter with him, The Little Drummer Boy was playing on the radio. Hence his name, "Drummer".
Drummer was a thief. If you dropped something on the floor, it was his. We lived next door to a horse stable and he was always carrying home other peoples grooming tools. We didn't know it for a long time as he would "hide" them behind a berm we had in the front of the house. If Don was cutting wood, he would run off with the piece that hit the Ground. One time Kandis was cutting some wood and didn't know his propensity for thievery and she couldn't figure out what was happening to her cut pieces of wood. She still talks about it to this day.
He would not chase a ball, but he would bury them. One time when I called him in for the night, it was already dark and I had to turn on the front porch light to see him. Sitting right there with a big grin on his face was Drummer with three, yes three, tennis balls in his mouth saying "see, I will retrieve balls". Of course, they were all muddy, since they had been buried for who know how long. I didn't care, I let him in with those muddy balls. What a character he was.
Trapper and Drummer taught me how hard it is to let go of someone you love. Even writing about it today brings tears to my eyes as recall all of the wonderful times our family had with these two dogs. They were everyone's favorites. All of the kids agree, we will never have the privilege of loving two dogs as much as we loved them. I thank Heavenly Father for the great happiness and love they brought to us. What I learned from dear Trapper and Drummer was that love is unending. I learned that is okay to have fun and play tricks on those you love as long as you wag your tail while you do it. I learned that kisses are good things and everyone needs then whether they know it or not. The slobbery the better. I learned about devotion and cherishing those we love without judging and always being there for them with some wiggles and kisses and a paw to shake.
I will never forget you and I look forward to long horseback rides in the hills, chasing rabbits, swimming in ponds, and hiding tennis balls again in the place we call "Pet Heaven". If we can't have our pets with us when we pass from this life, I am not going. Just saying.
It got me to thinking about dogs I have had in my life, and I began to reminisce about them.
The first dog friend that I have any memory of, was my great aunts big Collie namd Ginger. Ginger was her most faithful companion for many, many years as she lived alone on a farm in Illinois. Aunt Ota never married, so her animals where her dearest friends. There was a time in my life that my brothers and I lived on this farm with Aunt Ota for a short time. Dear Ginger was so patient with us kids as we tugged and pulled at her very long, luxurious hair. We even tried to ride her like a horse. She never got upset or tried to injure us in any way. Maybe I should be more like Ginger and be completely loving and patient and forgiving, no matter what might come my way. Lesson number one learned from a dog.
Another dear canine friend that I remember was Poncho. Poncho was a Cocker Spaniel that we got as a puppie. He was a rambutious kidder. He loved to take something (usually something he wasn't supposed to have) and run as fast as he could away from us. Poncho was also a digger. Poncho slept with me and was my very best buddy. Because of my family issues, it sure was nice to have a friend who didn't judge or complain about all of the dysfunction present in my and his life. He was just there when I needed a friend the most. One of my saddest days was when I came home from school one day and he was gone. No explanation or anything, he was just GONE. The lesson I learned from this was that when you lose a friend you will be so sad,and not understand why they had to go so suddenly. But the good memories will sustain you in times of need. I have often wondered what happened to Poncho. I hope he ended up in a good home with a little girl to sleep with and to love him unconditionally.
Then there was Buff. Buff was a huge collie mix. She loved everyone and everyone loved her. I named her Buff from the book, Buff A Dog, that I read many times. I loved to read stories about animals. Now a days I can't read or watch most animal stories as I know that something bad is going to happen and it breaks my heart. One time Buff gave us 13 puppies. Can you imagine having that many puppies running around. She had the first one outside in the cold, cold weather and it didn't survive. I remember wrapping the little one up in a big towel to try to warm its little shivering body. It didn't last the night and I cried for this little soul that I never got to know. She was a dear companion and I think about her now and then. I guess the lesson I learned from her is that our children grow up way too soon and leave us. What we have left are the wonderful memories of their childhoods and fun times we had together as we romped and played.
Then there was Freddie. Freddie was a Cockapoo and oh my was he something. I remember when we brought him home from a trip to Kansas. Back then we had no air conditioning in the car. When we drove we would spray ourselves with water or wet out shirts completely just for some relief from the heat that blasted us through our open car windows. He was suffering too and commandeered one of the wet towels for himself. I should have known that he would be a pistol for his whole life. His favorite thing to do was "door dive". The minute a door was open, he was out and gone. Many a time the neighbors could see one of our family, running furiously after him to try to catch him before he got run over by a car. We could be heard like a famous movie yelling "Freddie come back, come back freddie.". In the end it was completely hopeless. He would not even look back. He was having a ball. I guess what I learned from Freddie was to enjoy life, even if you have to door dive once in a while. Life is short, so enjoy and treasure every moment.
- One time Trapper saved me. I was in the barn feeding the horses and somehow stepped off of a pallet and -didn't know it at the tine - broke my ankle. It was winter and the snow was blowing and no one up at the house would have ever heard my cries for help. But Trapper did. He took me up to the house one slow step at a time while I leaned on his back. He seemed to know that I needed him then and he was the only one that could help. I will never forget that event. He was my savior that day. How I loved that dog and how I still miss him.
One day I was out riding and of course the dogs were along for the ride. All at once they both spotted a rabbit in the middle the pasture. With keen accuracy they both took off from different ends of the pasture to "get the rabbitt". The rabbit seeing it's predicament chose to go sideways. The dogs kept on running and passed each other in the middle, but the rabbit was long gone. I don't think that either one of them knew what had happened. What an adventure they had. They didn't care, they were having great fun. I laughed so hard, it is amazing that I didn't fall off my horse.
Drummer was my Christmas present one year. We got him at the animal shelter. He was a "run away" dog. No one could keep him corraled. He was always visiting neighbors, some of whom kept treats just for him when he came to visit. When we came out of the shelter with him, The Little Drummer Boy was playing on the radio. Hence his name, "Drummer".
Drummer was a thief. If you dropped something on the floor, it was his. We lived next door to a horse stable and he was always carrying home other peoples grooming tools. We didn't know it for a long time as he would "hide" them behind a berm we had in the front of the house. If Don was cutting wood, he would run off with the piece that hit the Ground. One time Kandis was cutting some wood and didn't know his propensity for thievery and she couldn't figure out what was happening to her cut pieces of wood. She still talks about it to this day.
He would not chase a ball, but he would bury them. One time when I called him in for the night, it was already dark and I had to turn on the front porch light to see him. Sitting right there with a big grin on his face was Drummer with three, yes three, tennis balls in his mouth saying "see, I will retrieve balls". Of course, they were all muddy, since they had been buried for who know how long. I didn't care, I let him in with those muddy balls. What a character he was.
Trapper and Drummer taught me how hard it is to let go of someone you love. Even writing about it today brings tears to my eyes as recall all of the wonderful times our family had with these two dogs. They were everyone's favorites. All of the kids agree, we will never have the privilege of loving two dogs as much as we loved them. I thank Heavenly Father for the great happiness and love they brought to us. What I learned from dear Trapper and Drummer was that love is unending. I learned that is okay to have fun and play tricks on those you love as long as you wag your tail while you do it. I learned that kisses are good things and everyone needs then whether they know it or not. The slobbery the better. I learned about devotion and cherishing those we love without judging and always being there for them with some wiggles and kisses and a paw to shake.
I will never forget you and I look forward to long horseback rides in the hills, chasing rabbits, swimming in ponds, and hiding tennis balls again in the place we call "Pet Heaven". If we can't have our pets with us when we pass from this life, I am not going. Just saying.
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