My Mission Statement

I write to serve, to unite, to educate. I write to share literature and flesh out ideas that may be of interest to others. I write to document an emotion, experience, or a blip in time. My mission is to write in such a way that the reader is reminded that we can find humor in all situations. It's one of the great blessings of life.


Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Dog Gone It

Okay, so we didn't have enough going on with a sickie, lots of homework, Odyssey of the Mind practice, big decisions about travel this week, etc., then our dog goes missing! Well, my husband's not the most sympathetic guy in the world. He said, "Too bad, he as a good dog, but he's stolen or dead." I didn't want to accept that in principle or in heart, so I took the kids out to search everywhere for this dog. We know his haunts, his favorite spots, his friends, and other places he likes to pause when on his walks,so we searched those spots first. Then we drove around calling his name out the window of the car which was good for the kids because they felt like they were doing something.

We discussed the highlights of his young life, his little idiosyncrasies. We were glad he had on his sweater because it was cold out. He's a little Boston terrier, so he's hardly fierce, but my son kept saying, "Good thing we hadn't trimmed his nails this week. He can fight his kidnapper." Hmmmm.... My daughter lamented, "We weren't very good parents." And my other daughter was upset that he hadn't had dinner before he disappeared. My youngest son just coughed like he's done all week, poor kid, but it was a sympathetic, concerned cough, I could tell.

Anyway, after a couple of HOURS, we came home, and I convinced (okay, maybe not the word exactly) my husband to go search a couple more places. OUr neighbor was moving, and movers had been at her house all day, big trucks, etc., so basically I was, like, walk the driveway, you know? Turns out, he'd gotten trapped in the basement next door as they'd moved things out, so he was fine just completely freaked out. So for once, the kids fed him without me asking, took him up to bed, and he was well-loved again.

I know there's a book in there somewhere and it's probably shorter than that horrible description I just gave you, but now you know the rest of the story. ha ha ha

The morning was gloomy, but the sun's coming out. We go back to the doctor this morning. I loved my old pediatrician. She was just a regular girl like me who didn't get crazy about things, but I feel like the new group is all looking at me, like, she definitely lets her kids go outside without shoes. THAT's why he has pneumonia.

And I'll tell you another story. Yikes. It's been niggling away at me. Our pediatrician is new in town, and he's begun to come to our church. Well, one morning at church breakfast, I stopped to say hello to him, and he was sitting with another member of our church who I'll call GBM. Well, GBM said, "You'll get to know her well. She has four kids...blah blah blah."

Conversation, yada, yada, and GBM said, "Let me tell you something on this girl. One time I was out walking early in the morning, and I passed their house. THe front door was wide open and no one was around. Then I came back around the block and the door was STILL open but this time there was a kid on the porch in his underwear just walking around. So I called to make sure everything was okay. It was fine. Just a kid had wandered out. So when she brings her kids in with pneumonia, it's because they've been wandering around outside in their underwear." Well, he laughed like it was hilarious, I was a little embarrassed, and the new doc didn't say much. So OF COURSE, not TWO WEEKS LATER, here I am with a kid with pneumonia. Small town life, folks.

Have a good week, and DON'T FORGET TO CELEBRATE GRATEFUL WED, with me or without me, I don't care, but pause and count your blessings. xoxox

1 comment:

Dorothy said...

So glad you were diligent enough and wise enough to find your dog in the basement. Stuff like that happens and it's up to us, the big guys, to figure out how to save the victim. Rah for you!!

Secondly, about the small town thing. I spent life in a small town when I was raising my little girls. When the four year old was out playing around the yard (this was and is a VERY responsible child who knew not to leave the back yard), with me peeking out the window to see where she was and what she was doing every so often (had a baby inside), a neighbor knocked and came in to "visit." In the conversation she inquired whether I knew where my little girl was..."because she'd been alone outside for quite some time." Blase' me just said, "sure," and went on chit chatting. She wasn't a close neighbor and this was her first call within a year of our moving there.

Only years later did it occur to me, after having lived in the small town and seen first hand how it wasn't what people did, but what it appeared they did, that got talked about, that the woman had been checking up on me. I'm sorry to say that some years later one of this perfect mother's sons committed suicide. So be it with small towns.

You continue to hang loose and don't make your kids neurotic worrying about what the neighbors might think/say about you or them. My opinion is they're so tied up in knots over the lives they've led in that small town, they can't stand for anyone else to have any freedom either. Amen.

ps. Actually, he got pneumonia from wearing flip flops to school the first day, don't you know? LOL.

Isabel by Donna Jones Koppelman

Isabel by Donna Jones Koppelman

Major Bear at the Grove Park Inn by Donna Jones Koppelman

Major Bear at the Grove Park Inn by Donna Jones Koppelman