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PAW PRINTS ON MY HEART
by James Colasanit, Jr.
There are times I still cry.
Those animals whose lives touch ours are a part of the cycle of love
that remains with us forever. We don''t get over losing the dogs who have
been part of our life -- we just get used to living without them.
The bond that develops between a man and his dog somehow transcends
life itself, carrying over to the other side.
It has been over a year since my quintuple bypass -- an experience no
one should have to endure. Yet, because of it, I am still around to tell
this tale.
In a culture in which accounts of near-death experiences are as common
as life itself, I had, what I call, a new-life experience.
I did not die. My heart was turned off and then turned back on again
after everything was fixed. The day before the surgery I had been in
denial. I didn''t smoke. I didn''t eat much red meat. I wasn''t overweight.
I didn''t have high cholesterol. And even more puzzling, heart disease
wasn''t common in my family. But all the "didn''ts" in the world really
didn''t matter.
So what does a quintuple bypass have to do with dogs, you ask?
The morning of my surgery, while very memorable in one respect, is
quite hazy in another. Amnesiatic-type drugs had been given to me so I
would forget the trauma that I was about to endure.
What I do remember in my dream like state, was a long, long walk down
the ghastly hospital-green corridor.
The hospital hall was longer than forever. As I walked I was joined
on my right by my newest dog, Shep, a Great Dane-hound mix. His long tail
swished against the wall as it wagged back and forth.
On my left side walked Zak, my nineteen-year-old Basset hound dog-mix
who had passed on some months before. His tail, though not as long as
Shep''s, wagged high into the air.
Zak was a three-time loser, but not to me. Three times he had been
rescued from the pound and three times he had been brought back. Finally,
one of the pound workers called and said that I was his last chance. So I
adopted him, and he remained a part of the family for nineteen years.
As the two dogs and I approached the nurse''s station, Zak turned to me
and telepathically asked, "Why did you wait so long to put me to sleep?"
His euthanasia had been a very traumatic event. He was so old that his
veins kept collapsing every time the veternarian tried to put him to sleep.
The vet started yelling, "You waited too long, man, you waited too long!"
Here I am, putting my best friend for nineteen years to sleep, tears
streaming down my face, and the vet is yelling at me. I had been guilty of
the cardinal sin all pet owners face -- hanging on too long and refusing to
let go. Because of the dog''s deteriorating con***ion, the vet was going to
have to stick Zak in the heart in order to euthanize him. The vet did not
want me to remain with Zak and I would not be with him when he passed over.
To Zak''s question I replied, "You were a part of my life for nineteen
years, and I didn''t have the heart to let go. That''s why I''m in the
hospital, getting my heart fixed."
Zak jumped up and licking my face said to me, "Be happy for me. I am
at peace here. You go back with Shep. You''ve got a lot of dogs to take
care of before they pass on."
With that, Shep grabbed hold of my hand in his mouth and pulled me
back down the hall. Shep stood up and started licking my face vigorously.
The next thing I knew a nurse had my hand in hers taking my pulse, and
with the other hand, she was swabbing my face with a wet cloth in the
recovery room.
The memories of the nineteen years with Zak flooded over me, and the
peace Zak left me with was his paw prints on my heart.
-- James Colasanti, Jr. <onegooddog1 @ bellsouth.net>

THE FUNNY THINGS KIDS SAY
Here are some stories from Fern''s collection. She is the mother of
four boys.
When Fern lengthened Ted''s jeans (without telling him) and he put them
on, he exclaimed: "Oh, no! I''m afraid I''m just getting shorter and
shorter!"
Terence, 4, said, "If you''re going to be Teddy''s Sunday School
teacher, who''s going to be our mother?"
Tim, 7, said, in the quietness before his cousin''s wedding: "I can
hear the candles burning."
When returning from a camping trip, they overheard Terence bragging to
a friend: "My Dad is so tough that if a mosquito tried to bite him, it
would bend his stinger!" -- Fern Boldt of St. Catharines, Ontario
Courtney Kaye, 3, got into trouble for losing her "temper." Her
mother punished her and explained that we have to control our tempers.
Later Courtney''s mother overheard Courtney discussing the events of the day
with her dolls and stuffed animals. Talking to Sarah, her big stuffed
horse, Courtney said, "Sarah, I know I was a bad girl. I know I have a bad
temporary. I know Mommy just wants me to be nice and healthy!" -- Kyla
McMullen (grandmother of Courtney) of Waco, Texas
Twenty years ago when Tandace was born, Kenny, 3, came to the hospital
to see his baby sister. He walked with his mother to look at all the
babies in the nursery. When Kathy tried to point out Tandace, Kenny
pointed to one baby and asked, "Is our baby the red one?" -- Kathy (mother
of Kenny and Tandace) of Asheville, North Carolina
When Dennis was 4 he had three sisters and he wanted a baby brother.
When his mother went to the hospital, she gave birth to another sister.
Dennis was very disappointed. When he spoke to his mother on the phone he
asked, "Mommy, is it still a girl?" -- Jean Reesor (mother of Dennis) of
Battletown, Kentucky
Brandy was babysitting her 5-year-old nephew, Zack. They decided to
order pizza, but Brandy realized she didn''t know the address. So she asked
Zack what his address was and he replied, "You''re crazy. I''m a boy. I
don''t wear a dress!" -- Brandy of Balm Beach Ontario Canada
Starla took Sarah to a garage sale. Little Sarah had $2 to buy
whatever she wanted. She bought a porcelain doll. The next day when they
were at a wedding rehearsal dinner, Starla told a friend what they had
found at the garage sale and Sarah piped up: "Yeah, I got a personal doll!"
-- Starla Smith of Marion, Iowa
Ryan came rushing in from outside heading for his room to find a
special place for his new found treasure. He had a handful of lava rocks
and he stated that he found "magic rocks!" His teenage sister was amused.
Her comment was: "Magic rocks? Wow! How do they work?" Ryan''s comment:
"Just fine!" -- Kyna Rickett (mother of Ryan) of Glendive, Montana
Clayson has decided to run for a class office at his school. His
grandfather asked him what office he was going to run for and he replied,
"Vice-Principal." When he saw the expression and smile on his
grandfather''s face he realized what he''d said and trying to cover up his
mistake said, "I don''t think I really have the time to be Vice Principal so
I think I''ll just run for Class Vice-President instead!" -- Jay Miller
(grandfather of Clayson) of Slaterville, Utah
Jared, 4, learned in Sunday School about going to heaven and God
giving us a new body. As he processed the idea, he told his mother that he
hoped God would let him wear his favorite tennis shoes in heaven. He also
asked if there would be Spiderman pajamas in heaven. Then after a moment
of silence he asked, sounding slightly distraught, "Oh, Momma, I sure hope
God doesn''t give me a girl body!" -- John King (husband of Jared''s Sunday
School teacher) of Murfressboro, Tennessee
Tina''s 7-year-old daughter was helping Tina clean out their china
cabinet. Tina told her daughter she had tried to sell it, but now she was
giving it away. Her daughter asked, "Who are you giving your Chinese
cabinet to?" -- Tina Strong of Chatsworth, Georgia

REACH FOR THE LIGHT
by Jaye Lewis
She could grow anything from seed.
She could take tiny seeds with her fingertips, place them into the
soil, and coax them to grow. She would carefully water the soil and
whisper, "You''re going to love the sunshine. You''re going to feel the
rain. And you are really going to adore the rainbow!"
I watched this mysterious woman and marveled at the love she gave to
each tiny seed. It was as though the love that she had longed for, and
never experienced, poured out of her heart, and into the seed and soil. As
if in a strange intimacy, she pulled grace and beauty from the depths, and
the little plants would burst forth, reaching for light and air.
There was some sort of hushed beauty within her. A secret longing
that no one had ever seen nor touched.
It was as if she were too shy or too scared to awaken, perhaps knowing
that once set free, she would become out of control. I caught a glimpse of
that passion when her anger became unleashed, and it could be dangerous to
be the one within her grasp. Yet, she was always gentle with growing
things.
She was a mystery to me -- this repressed, passionate, secret woman,
who gave up on life early within my childhood.
She seldom bought a living plant. She combed garden catalogs looking
for seeds. She mixed her own soil and she started those seeds in any
container available. To my mother, anything that had a bottom and an open
top was a container.
She started seeding in empty egg cartons, milk cartons, and even
eggshells. She especially loved to start tomatoes in the eggshells of
geese. She''d make a tiny drainage hole with a needle, start the seed in
her homemade soil, and when it came time to transplant into the garden, she
would gently crush the shell, right before she placed the plant into it''s
permanent home.
"Eggshells sweeten the soil," she would say.
Where she found the African Violet seeds, I''ll never know. I watched
her mix just the right amount of soil ingredients, placing the invisible
seed at just the right depth. Then she watered with care and watched it
grow.
It seemed to me that, overnight, the tiny plants would appear, strong
and affirming, to lighten up her life. I loved to watch my mother''s face,
as those first tiny seedlings raised their heads to smile at her.
I suppose that my mother felt safest with her plants. Plants never
told her she was worthless. Plants asked for little, and they gave back so
much. Plants never came home drunk, like my father did. And they were
never disobedient, as I was.
My mother would often tell me her secrets for making things grow. I
can still hear her voice as she shared her magical recipe for compost or
discussed the benefits of one manure over another.
I never told her just how beautiful she was at those moments, with her
face alight with understanding and knowledge.
My mother was a botanist, without a degree. She was a horticulturist,
without a following. She cared for growing things with great tenderness,
and in spite of the sorrow in her life, I still remember my mother''s smile,
as some new thing sprang forth before her eyes.
I remember her warm, throaty laugh, when she discovered that first
robin''s nest in spring. I''d stand, spellbound with her, as she counted the
eggs that tried so inadequately to imitate the blue in my mother''s eyes.
She told me stories filled with longing and pathos. I would laugh and
cry with her as she spun the threads of her lost dreams, never daring to
hope for a future. She was brilliant, and she never knew it.
She was a beauty overcome by regret and broken promises. She dreamed
impossible dreams that were never uttered, and even less fulfilled.
Every once in awhile, that beautiful, passionate woman would peek out
through my mother''s volatile journey through life -- usually when she was
coaxing plants to come out of the dark and encouraging them to reach for
the light.
-- Jaye Lewis <jlewis @ smyth.net>
ROSES
by Mary Conner
Do you stop and smell the roses? No, you don''t have the time.
Do you know smelling the roses is just a frame of mind?
Life goes by so quickly in this hustle, bustle world.
But roses are all around us, for every boy and girl.
Have you seen Old Glory waving? Did your heart swell with pride?
And did you thank God for freedom, though many brave men died?
Did you see those blue birds flying as you drove to work today?
And the colors in the sunset on your return displayed?
Did you hear the children laughing while playing games outside?
Or see a twinkle in your baby''s eyes as you kissed her cheek goodnight?
Did you feel the breeze on your sweated brow that hot summer day?
And smell the rain in the springtime that washed the dust away?
Roses are all around us -- even in busy times.
You don''t need TIME to smell the roses -- it takes a state of mind.
-- Mary Conner <mary @ etexnet.com>

SERVING THOSE WHO SERVE US
by Jaye Lewis
Sam was a big, black hairy dog, with a unique personality.
From the time that he wandered into my life, he captured my heart. In
the six years that I had him, he had only two "accidents" in the house, not
including the time he lifted his leg on our new gas grill.
Sam took every opportunity to escape from our fenced-in backyard, and
when he was chased down, usually by my husband, he would stop just long
enough for Louie to catch up, and then off he''d go! My husband was not
amused at the time, but years later, we still laugh about it.
We were a military family, and for years we were able to manipulate
the system, staying in Charleston, South Carolina, until all three of our
daughters graduated from the same high-school.
Then, my husband was reassigned to Recruiter Duty in West Virginia.
Of course our dogs came with us. Sam was pretty aggravated about his
confinement to the back of the pick-up on moving day. I guess we hadn''t
made enough pit stops, because the first thing he did when we arrived at
our destination, was to walk over to my husband and urinate on his foot!
After two years of Recruiting duty, we received a new assignment, and
Sam, and his companion, Morgan, would not be able to come with us.
I was not expecting this. I had sworn that this would never happen.
We were so close to retirement that we were sure that these creatures
would be able to stay with us forever. Little Morgan was a sensitive,
hairy, black bundle of love, and it broke my heart to have to find her a
new home.
It wasn''t enough that we were sent from pillar to post -- now I had to
find homes for my pets! It tore my heart out! Sadly, military people
don''t always have choices.
I wrote two adorable ads for the local paper, from Sam and Morgan''s
point of view. I received several phone calls from people who wanted to
know if I was the one who wanted to "get rid of" my dogs.
"Lord, no! I have no choice but to find a good home for them!" I''d
exclaim. And it isn''t with you, lady, I thought. I spent weeks on the
phone and going out to inspect homes, asking questions about the care and
feeding of my pets.
"Who''s bed will they sleep in?"
"Will you continue their special diets?"
"Do you hit your pets?"
"Will you forgive them when they roll in pig manure?"
"Morgan must never get punished if she has an accident."
People thought I was a lunatic. These were country people. They knew
about dogs. But they didn''t know about mine. It was the hardest thing
I''ve ever done, looking for homes for my beloved pets.
Praying through every inch of the search, we found homes for both Sam
and Morgan. We had to separate them, but they received loving homes.
Morgan was adopted by a retired pastor and his wife. The took care of
their four young granddaughters who doted on Morgan. Morgan was in pet
heaven, and we were sure that she would be just fine.
Sam was adopted by a family who were needing a companion for their
handicapped son. To see Sam gently lay his head upon that boy''s lap was a
blessing I''ll never forget. At the same time, I asked the Lord for a sign
that I had chosen the right home. After introducing Sam to their hunting
dog, Shorty, I went in to visit with the family, and at one point, I peeked
through the window.
There stood Sam, ready to explore his sixty-three acres. He took off,
and then paused, looking back at Shorty, as if to say, "Come on, Shorty,
follow me."
There was my sign. I knew that God had found Sam the perfect home.
The last time I saw Sam, he was smiling into my rearview mirror, as he
slowly wagged his tail. Heartbroken and sobbing all the way home, I still
felt a kind of peace.
-- Jaye Lewis <jlewis @ smyth.net>
DOG RESCUES ANOTHER DOG FROM ALLIGATOR ATTACK
by Jessica Willey, ABC13 Eyewitness News
HOUSTON, April 20 -- You''ve heard the saying every dog has its day,
and the dog in this story certainly had hers. She survived an alligator
attack on Lake Houston, but that''s not even the most interesting part.
The dog''s owner used a piece of concrete to eventually scare the
alligator away, but it was actually another dog that did most of the rescue
work.
"She is very possessive and if it belongs to her, she doesn''t want to
let it go," dog owner Leslie Santiago described her pet.
Leslie is now grateful for that trait in her dog Sophie. Today she''s
a hero, and a beagle-dachshund mix is a survivor.
Little Bean carries the nasty wounds of an alligator attack -- deep
gashes on the back of her neck, puncture wounds on the front.
Leslie admitted, "She''s definitely not in the room when we eat dinner!"
It was Friday at a backyard boat ramp, where all Leslie could see was
Bean''s body. Her head was engulfed by the gator.
"I saw the gator," said Leslie. "He was chomping down."
And attached to one of Bean''s short legs was Sophie.
"She stepped up to the plate, grabbed her by the back leg," recalled
Leslie. "She knew she wasn''t supposed to be there and knew that wasn''t
supposed to be there. She never let go."
And it wasn''t until Leslie threw a 20 pound piece of concrete at the
gator that Bean was free. Sophie dragged her to safety. Next came a trip
to the vet.
Dr. Darren Knapp said, "She''s lucky. She''s lucky (the alligator)
didn''t have a meal that day."
Dr. Knapp has treated many ailments in his career but never an
alligator bite. Unsure of the bacteria in a gator''s mouth, he left Bean''s
wounds open. And Bean left with a nickname.
"All they have to say is gator dog and we know which one they''re
talking about," the doctor said.
For now Bean gets the sympathy. Sophie gets the glory. In a
household with four dogs, Sophie is now top dog. The vet says little Bean
should be just fine.
Not only is she proud of her pups, but Leslie also wanted to get her
story out to warn others on the lake to beware of the alligators.
(Copyright, 2004, KTRK-TV)

THE FUNNY THINGS KIDS SAY
Taylor, 3, went to the Dairy Queen where her aunt purchased a quart of
ice cream to take home and a small dish of ice cream for Taylor. Taylor
dug into it as soon as she got it. When Taylor asked her aunt if she was
going to eat her ice cream, her aunt said, "I''m going to wait until I get
home and eat it with peaches." Taylor made eye contact with her aunt and
said, "Don''t be silly. You eat ice cream with your mouth, not peaches!"
-- Grace Hermetet (aunt of Taylor) of Beardstown, Illinois
Sue''s 3-year-old grandson Jesse was visiting. He wanted Sue to help
him draw some stick figures, but Sue was busy in the kitchen. Jesse
started whining about needing Sue''s help. His grandpa came into the
kitchen to get an apple and he asked Jesse if he wanted one, too. Jesse
put his hands on his hips and said, "NO. I''m whining!" -- Sue Strausbaugh
of Gas City, Indiana
Caroline''s mother was frying bacon. Her daughter asked, "What are you
doing, Mom?" Her mother replied, "I''m frying turkey bacon." Little
Caroline replied, "I didn''t know that turkeys liked bacon!" -- Joe Reese
(proud grandpa) of Escanaba, Michigan
When Jay''s grandson Clayson was about 5, they were driving by Hill Air
Force Base which has a museum and several aircraft on display that can be
seen from the highway. After checking them out as they drove by, Clayson
asked, "Papa do those airplanes still work?" Jay told him they were just
for display and they didn''t work anymore. After he thought a minute
Clayson said, "I''ll bet those planes are just like my toys -- all they need
are some good batteries!" -- Jay Miller of Slaterville, Utah
Alicia was driving in the truck with her kids. Jordan, 4, said, "When
I grow up I''m going to work at a bank!" His dad asked him why he wants to
work in a bank. He said very matter-of-factly, "So I can give people
suckers." -- Alicia Snow of Kendallville, Indiana
Reymond''s Grampa told him that he had a picture of a meadowlark and
that he was thinking of framing it. Reymond said, "Cool!" Reymond''s
mother asked him if he knew what a meadowlark was and he said, "Uh huh,
it''s like Noah''s Ark, only it''s made out of metal!" -- Melissa (mother of
Reymond) of Lynnwood, Washington
Lisa''s brother Marty was teaching MJ who the President was. Marty
thought he had successfully taught MJ so Marty asked him to tell his mother
who the president was. MJ proudly said, "George Tree!" Here''s another MJ
mix-up... While attending Sunday school, his teacher was trying to teach
him the names of the apostles Peter, Andrew, James and John. MJ called
them Peter, Andrew, Jesse James and John. -- Lisa Stormer (MJ''s aunt) of
BlackLick, Pennsylvania
While on a visit to the local game preserve, Patty and her son,
Michael, 8, were feeding and petting the sheep and goats. Each animal, of
course, had been tagged and the tags were generally placed about the ears.
A big sheep approached Michael for some food. Michael looked at the sheep
and said, "Mom, this one here has a hearing aid!" -- Patty DeFazio of
Orefield, Pennsylvania
When Autumn was 3 and her little sister was a baby, their "Mama
Ruthie" and "Daddy Bob" kept them for a few days while their parents were
out of town. It was Ruthie''s 53rd birthday and after stopping two or three
times on the way to meet their mother, Ruthie said, "I will be glad to see
your mama because I am about worn out." Autumn asked, "Is it because you
are so old?" Ruthie asked, "Do I look old?" Autumn immediately answered,
"Just your face and tummy do." -- Ruthie Garvin of Humboldt, Tennessee
Marlene was with her niece, Michaiah, 5, at a Dodge dealership. They
had a PT Cruiser convertable on display, so they were looking at it, and
Marlene pointed out that it only had seating for four. Michaiah proceeded
to designate seating for her family by pointing at each spot saying,
"Daddy, Mommy, Kyndra, Kelsie, and I''ll stay at Grandma''s!" -- Marlene of
Kansas

LIKE CATS AND DOGS
by Gary Littlebear
It''s been quite some time since I passed along any new tales about my
wonderful Border Collie, Beau.
These past few months have been quite educational for both of us. I
thought maybe you might like to know about Beau''s new roommates -- my
beloved fiancee, Cheryl, and Keeko, her cat.
After a lifetime of living without love, except for what Beau gives me
so freely, I found true love last year. After several months of dating, my
beloved Cheryl and I decided to move in together, and of course, she
brought the diminutive and delightfully zany Keeko with her.
There was of course some concern on our part as to how they would get
along, but I was certain Beau could handle having a friend around -- even
one from a different species, and a tra***ional enemy to boot.
Sure enough, Beau didn''t disappoint. Right from the start he was
totally ready to accept his new roommate and he very graciously gave her
all the room she needed to adjust to her new living space.
Keeko was understandably a little nervous at first and spent most of
her first couple of weeks hiding beneath furniture or sitting high atop
shelves. Once she was assured that Beau wasn''t going to chase her or hurt
her, she started venturing out from her hiding places and laying claim to
various parts of the apartment.
Before long they were even inventing little games to play together, to
our endless amusement.
One of their favorite games involves the daily ritual of "treat time."
We hand out lots of treats (and even more love, of course) and you''ll
always know it''s treat time when they both sit "at attention" side by side
at our feet. We throw Keeko''s treat first. She likes to play "ready, set,
GO!" with her treat, chasing it down the hall and through the kitchen.
Beau plays a little game of hide-and-seek searching out biscuits on our
legs, laps and even shoulders. When he''s done eating his treat, he''ll go
looking to see if Keeko has eaten hers, or if she left it out in the open
for him to find, as she often does. Once he''s found it, she''ll pounce on
his tail (four and a half pounds of mock anger) and bat furiously at it --
"chasing" him back into the living room!
Beau always arrives smiling and laughing in his "huff huff huff" way
only to turn and look at Keeko as if to say, "Is that all you''ve got?"
They also play a game I like to call, Caught You Looking! Keeko will
do the craziest things, ricocheting off walls and furniture, using our laps
like trampolines, all while Beau''s doing his level best to pretend not to
notice. And if she suddenly turns and catches him looking at her, she
wins! She''ll then take a moment to preen herself thoroughly while giving
him this look that seems to say, "I know, I know. You just can''t resist my
feline grace and beauty, can you?"
You can tell they both enjoy their little games very much and we
always crack up when they pretend to "compete" for the many hugs we
dispense. They both know there are more than enough hugs and cuddles to go
around, which is how we know it''s just another one of their many homegrown
games.
Putting a cat and dog together doesn''t always work but we''ve been
blessed with every possible success in getting Beau and Keeko to share our
home and our love.
They''re both as good as gold, and they NEVER fight. We just couldn''t
be happier about the arrangement and they seem to feel the same way judging
from the happiness they both display. Beau has never had so much as a
single claw mark to show for his eight months of life with a cat, and
what''s more, they have never shown a single ounce of jealousy. They even
sleep with us at night -- Beau curled up against the back of my legs and
Keeko snuggled between Cheryl''s feet, not eight inches from Beau''s face.
The best part of this arrangement is that it''s reassuring knowing that
they still have someone to snuggle up with whenever Cheryl and I both have
to go out. It''s perfectly obvious that they have no fear of each other,
and that they even care for one another.
We had a strong hunch it was going to work out when we found them
cuddled together in our big comfy armchair the very first day they met!
We''ve taken some "blackmail photos" of the two of them curled up side
by side on the bed -- insurance for if they ever do anything bad. If they
ever do misbehave, we''ll threaten to take the pictures down the block to
our local pet store and put them on display! As much as they love each
other, I don''t think Beau could hold his head up as a "dog''s dog" if the
other neighborhood dogs found out that he regularly snuggles with a cat one
tenth his size!
Who says cats and dogs have to fight... well, "like cats and dogs?"
-- Gary LittleBear <garylittlebear @ sympatico.ca>

NEW MOM
by Karen Crafts Driscoll
After the birth of my twin daughters, my mother offered to stay for a
week and help out.
Being a naive new mom, I figured I didn''t really need her help. How
hard could it be? I thought I was the youthful, energetic one, newly
imbued through the labor and delivery of two babies with an innate
knowledge of how to care for them. My mom was nearing sixty, and although
she had raised three children of her own, well, that was a long time ago.
I agreed to her offer, glad for the company, but not from a perception
of need.
My mother arrived, saw what needed to be done, and very quietly did
it. Always with a smile, she made meals, including the entire Thanksgiving
dinner for six that I thought I could handle on my own. She cleaned,
shopped, did laundry and rocked screaming babies in the small hours of the
morning. She never once did the thing I most feared she would do --
lecture me on the myriad of things I could do better or differently. She
never once gave unsolicited advice. She did, however, frequently tell me
what every new mom desperately needs to hear -- that I was doing a great
job.
I was endlessly amazed by her energy, her competency, and her
unflappable, easy manner with my daughters. I stumbled around in a fog of
bleary-eyed exhaustion, going through the motions of motherhood, while she
busily snapped pictures and exclaimed over the marvels of my babies. She
was always one step ahead of me, even though I swear she got less sleep.
I wondered if this was the same mother I remembered from my High
School years, back when I knew everything and she knew less than
everything. Back when I rolled my eyes at her a lot and she spent a lot of
time trying to tell me that there were things I wouldn''t understand until I
became a mother myself.
The last vestiges of my myopic, know-it-all adolescence died the week
after my daughters were born, and good riddance. Because in its place, a
new understanding was born. An understanding with a lot more respect and
much better vision.
I had known I would become a new mom when I had children, but I never
realized I would get a new mom -- the same wonderful old mom I always had.
The same one I just never truly saw.
-- Karen Crafts Driscoll <kmhbrdriscoll @ hotmail.com>
FROM MOM, WITH LOVE AND THANKS
by Maureen Deutermann
At this time of year, both email and tra***ional mailboxes are crowded
with well deserving tributes to mothers everywhere. We are lauded for
everything from changing diapers to changing tires. I daresay we must be
blinding everyone with our halos!
I would like *****ggest that behind every good and loving mother there
is a good and loving child. In my case three -- Annie, Helen and Stevie.
I guess I should call Stevie "Steve" now, he is a big boy of eleven years,
but he will always be Stevie to me.
And so, I would like to thank both God and my children...
For giving me the infinite blessing of holding a new life in my arms.
Is there anything on earth more miraculous?
For helping me renew my own childhood with favorite books, games and
toys. Laura Ingalls Wilder had a new generation of fans in my girls, and I
found that I could still teach Stevie a few things about shooting a basket
or unlocking the mystery of a Duncan Yo-yo.
For forgiving my bad days, and graciously accepting apologies for my
own imperfect behavior with a, "that''s ok Mom"... then adding a hug and
kiss to prove that it really was!
For knowing when it was time to clean up the dog''s "mistakes" instead
of leaving it for MOM.
For the rocks and seashells, homemade works of art, key chains and
coasters proudly bought at the Christmas Bazaar, and lovingly offered from
precious little hands.
For talking me into saving yet another pooch from the pound ("THREE
dogs... what are we, NUTS?"), and convincing me that I really needed a
hamster named Marshall.
For the painfully squeaky piano, flute and saxophone notes that
eventually became true "music to my ears".
For the weekend basketball games, mall shopping, and yes, even for
raising my blood pressure to new heights with student driving -- how boring
life would be without these little adventures!
For making up for ten years of fidgeting in church with impeccable
reverence as an altar server.
For the great honor of being called Mother, Mom, and Mommy, and for
allowing me, and only me, to keep calling you "Annie", "Helenootay" and
"Stevie".
There is neither a degree earned, nor an accolade bestowed, that
compares to the blessing and privilege of motherhood. I hope my darling
children know that even on the days when their Mother has "lost it", she
never fails to pray for their health and happiness, and to thank God for
the wonder and beauty they have brought to her life.
-- Maureen Deutermann
<Maureen.Deutermann @ PotomacHospital.com>
MOTHERS ARE PARTNERS WITH GOD
by Freda Fullerton
Mothers are partners with God
His arms to hold you tight
His voice to sing softly
His lips to kiss goodnight.
His tears to share your sorrow
His hands to dry your tears
His feet to walk beside you
Through your growing years.
His back to labor always,
For the things you need,
Between God and mothers
Is some unspoken creed...
Of patience and forgiveness,
Sacrifice and love.
Yes, mothers are willing partners...
With our God above.
-- Freda Fullerton <Fjful @ aol.com>

THE FUNNY THINGS KIDS SAY
When Frankie was about 3, his grandmother was introducing him to her
mother, saying, "Frankie, this is your great-grandmother." Frankie replied
to his grandmother, "And you are my good grandmother!" -- Mimi (the other
grandmother) of Florida
When Barbara''s mother was visiting Barbara''s brother''s home, she took
Barbara''s nephew David onto her lap and rocked him when it was time for his
afternoon rest. David, 3, half-asleep and peaceful, looked up and said
tenderly, "Grannie, you know what?" "What, Sweetie?" she asked, smiling
down at him. "You have hair in your nose," he said. And then he promptly
fell asleep. -- Barbara Durkin of Webster, New York
Last week during "circle time," Allison was discussing emotions with
her pre-school students. She had cards with the pictures of happy, sad and
angry. She asked the children to take turns choosing a card and talking
about what mades them feel happy, sad or angry. When it was Harry''s turn
he chose the happy card. "Would you like to tell us what makes you feel
happy, Harry?" Allison asked. "Well," he said, "when I''m in bed at night
and I''m trying to chase bad dreams away I think about you, Mrs. Mee, and
that makes me feel happy!" -- Allison Mee of Nottingham, United Kingdom
Ava, 3, escorted her mother to a facial appointment. She was sitting
in the lobby watching children''s TV when the door opened and the facial
lady came out to get some clean water. Ava snuck in the room and saw
someone lying on the table with white goop on her face and cottom pads on
her eyes. All upset, she ran out of the room, tugged at the facial lady''s
skirt and asked, "My Mummy is gone... Where did she go?" -- Cindy Janes
(the facial lady) of West Bridgewater, Massachusetts
Taylor received a green turtle sandbox from her Aunt Coz for her
second birthday. As they removed the lid and started filling it with 25
pounds of play sand, Taylor jumped up and down, throwing her hands up,
hollering, "My own beach, Aunt Coz! My own beach!" -- Karen Quinn (mother
of Taylor) of Browns Mills, New Jersey
After Adriana, 8, returned home from spending spring break with her
grandparents, her parents were telling her how much they missed her and
that the house was so quiet without her. Her mommy asked her how one
little girl can make so much noise. Adriana replied, "Well, I don''t know
but it sure is a BIG job!" -- Irma Cisneros (mother of Adriana) of
Phoenix, Arizona
Kim''s sons, Anthony, 8, and Matthew, 7, were getting dressed for
school one spring day recently. When he learned that the temperature was
going to reach 80 degrees Matthew said to his brother, "Hey, Anthony, it''s
going to be hot today so we can wear our short sleeve pants!" -- Dana
Miller of Downingtown, Pennsylvania
Casey, 6 was having his pictures made for Kindergarten graduation. He
had on a shirt and tie and was admiring himself in the mirror. With a big
smile on his face he told his mom, "I look like a "pallburier!" (He meant a
pallbearer.) -- Traci Walker (mother of Casey) of Lebanon, Tennessee
Madison, 2, was shopping with her mother Karen and Karen''s best
friend, Marrisa. Marrisa was talking with Madison, who had been learning
her colors with her mother. When Marrisa asked Madison what her favorite
color was, she looked up at Marrisa and said matter-of-factly, "Chocolate!"
-- Marrisa of Saginaw, Michigan
While reading a new book, "Adam, Adam, What Do You See?" Andrea
discussed different people, including John the Baptist, with her children.
Later Matthew, 7, asked Abbie, 5, if she knew what being baptized meant.
She said no, so Matthew said, "It''s when the preacher takes you on to the
stage and asks you questions, then dunks you in the water to wash your
senses (sins) away!" -- Andrea Blackwell of Wake Forest, North Carolina
Little Taylor was with her Aunt Grace at the bank drive up window.
The wait was VERY long and after 10 minutes, Grace said, "Oh, Taylor, I am
running out of patience." Taylor, who is known for being very impatient
herself, leaned as far as her seat belt would go, tapped Grace on the arm,
made a big deal of pretending to open a purse and said, "Here, you can have
some of mine!" -- Grace Hermetet of Beardstown, Illinois
Sara, 5, had just lost a front tooth, and the other one was quite
loose. Her grandmother tried to get her to pull it. Sara tried for a
hour, then said, "Grandma, actually, I am just falling apart!" -- Janice
Finley (grandmother of Sara) of Arab, Alabama

THE GREAT WEDDING OF ''46
by John A. Bruman
I''m pretty sure it was early summer in 1946.
Tommy was the son of the pastor of our family church. He and I were
both 5 years old, and we often played together over at the parsonage while
our mothers looked after materials for Vacation Bible School or other
church business.
In a rare moment of just talking, Tommy began telling me about his
latest adventure as a preacher''s son a few days earlier. He tried to
describe how he had been a "ring bear" in a wedding his father performed.
"What''s a ring bear?" was my natural question. At that age, I had
heard about bears in general, as well as polar bears and grizzly bears.
This was a new one.
"Don''t you know anything? It''s a bear that gives the groom a ring so
he can marry a girl!" he explained with all the patronizing impatience his
young age could muster.
"What''s a groom?" I asked. This must have convinced him I was without
doubt a hopeless imbecile.
"Here, I''ll show you." Tommy suddenly shifted into his familiar take
charge directorial mode and proceeded to stage his latest production...
"First you have to stand here in front of me with a girl."
He called for his little sister to come join us and made her stand
next to me. She was decked out for the occasion in what I later learned
were training panties, bare feet, a bib, and a half-empty glass baby bottle
in one corner of her mouth, supported by her left hand.
"Suzy, you stand here next to John... and stand still!"
He hastily draped a dish towel from his mother''s clothesline over her
head as a make-shift veil, and ran inside quickly for a Bible. Not knowing
what was about to transpire, Suzy and I dutifully held our positions until
Tommy returned with a Bible.
"My dog Snappy can be the ring bear," he instructed. While retrieving
a Bible from the house, he had also collected a ring of some sort (probably
from his mother''s dresser), tied a piece of ribbon around it and hung it
around Snappy''s neck.
Thankfully, the ribbon was just enough of a nuisance that Snappy
didn''t try to eat the ring. Although annoyed by the presence of the
ribbon, Snappy obediently sat down next *****zy, and awaited Tommy''s next
command.
"Now I have to read a bunch of stuff out of the Bible," Tommy
explained. He mumbled several disjointed but familiar words about love,
God, and faith, then reached down and gathered the ring from around
Snappy''s neck. He then handed the ring to me, and said, "Now you put the
ring on Suzy."
I tried. The ring was many sizes too big, so I decided to drape the
ribbon loop around her neck, as I had seen Tommy do with the dog. Suzy
momentarily removed the bottle from her mouth long enough for me to get the
loop over her head. Tommy then reopened his Bible, intoning in his best 5
year-old make believe baritone voice, "Holy, holy, holy, faith, God and
stuff."
With the formality and sense of ritual that would easily suffice for
dubbing a knight, Tommy raised his right hand over our heads, and
proclaimed, "I now make you married! Now you gotta'' kiss Suzy" he decreed.
"I don''t wanna," I said.
"That''s just too bad, you are married, and that''s what you gotta'' do!"
"I don'' wanna'' eeder!" Suzy complained.
Out of total frustration with this suddenly recalcitrant couple, Tommy
put one hand on his hip, shook his finger at Suzy and I and scolded, "Now
see here, it says in the Bible you two gotta'' kiss or it''s a sin, and
that''s all there is to it!"
Tommy and I were about even in intellectual development at that age,
but his father was our Pastor. Tommy''s father and mother were held in such
esteem by my parents, I viewed Tommy and Suzy in a kind of mystic awe.
Because they were the offspring of our Pastor, they undoubtedly had a
direct communication channel to the Almighty himself. Certainly more
direct than any of us mere mortals!
Therefore, this sudden scolding from Tommy had all the force and power
of a threat of fire and brimstone damnation to anyone who dared disobey.
After all, he had read out of the Bible hadn''t he? Certainly these were
the solemn pronouncements of God himself!
Tommy''s rather vociferous outburst resounded all the way into the
house, stirring the curiosity of the two mothers inside. They both came
around the corner of the house just in time to see Suzy dutifully look up
at me and pucker her milk coated lips, while I steadied her with a hand on
her shoulder, and obediently kissed her full on the mouth.
To this day, the smell and taste of warm, stale milk has held a
certain sense of fear and foreboding. Many years later, I couldn''t escape
its vague recollection whenever I kissed one of my own children''s
milk-tinged lips.
Then and there, the deed was done. Suzy and I were married!
Officiated by Tommy, accompanied by Snappy the dog as our ring bear, and
witnessed by two surprised, mothers-in-law with tears (of barely
controllable mirth) glistening their eyes.
Tommy''s mother made a valiant attempt at scolding Tommy for using her
ring and dish towel, and mumbled something about weddings being very sacred
and not suitable for childish make believe. Meanwhile, my mother beat a
hasty retreat into the house lest an uncontrollable outburst of laughter
ruin her friend''s lecture.
Tommy, Suzy and I now are all enjoying senior citizen discounts at
restaurants and hotels. Snappy the ring bear is long gone. I can imagine
his eventual funeral was more than ably officiated by "Reverend" Tommy.
I''ve been told Tommy is retired someplace in the Napa Valley region,
from a career in TV news reporting.
I often wonder if my "first wife" ever remembers me, and the great
wedding of ''46.
-- John A. Bruman <jbruman58 @ msn.com>

THE WHITE SPIRIT
by Margaret M. Savino
In my adult life I''ve only owned three dogs.
The first, Buffy, and the second Millie, each whom lived into their
14th year. And now Jed -- a thoughtful, intelligent three year old.
I have written about Buffy before in a previous Petwarmer entitled,
Man Meets Dog. She was a white German Shepherd who had the movie star, Rin
Tin Tin, as her grandfather. She was my devoted companion before marriage
or children.
She traveled much in our lives together, and I even took her to South
America during our years there, bringing her back to the States when we
returned. She had traveled thousands of plane miles in her lifetime,
making friends with all who met her.
When she died, I was inconsolable.
At the time, my husband and two little daughters were living in a tiny
house near Ithaca, New York, while I finished my doctorate. It was up on a
hill with a large farmer''s field which stretched up a mile to the barn,
surrounding all sides of our property. We were the only house on that side
of the road for a long distance.
Across the road lived our neighbor Fritz, an elderly man in his 90s
with Scottish dogs which he slowly walked past my house, three times daily.
One day, when I was out by the driveway, Fritz called to me.
Now this was unusual, because we normally waved, yelled "hello" and we
continued our activites. But this day, about a month after Buffy died, he
urgently called me down from the hill to the road.
When I walked down to where he was standing with the Scotties, he
said, "Who is that dog running in the fields behind your house? I see it
every day, a big white German Shepherd, running up and down the hill, back
and forth from the barn to your house and back up the hill. Racing like
the wind!"
I held my breath and asked him to repeat the story.
He said, "I''ve never seen a dog so happy, running and almost dancing
as he runs. Don''t you see him when he comes to your house?"
"No, I haven''t seen this dog, Fritz." I turned with tears in my eyes
and walked slowly back up the hill to my house.
In Buffy''s lifetime, she had made history at the Cornell Veterinary
Hospital. As a year old puppy, she had suffered a severe accident, and her
leg was paralyzed. The doctors approached me and suggested a new
operation, which had never been done on a dog before, but had been done on
humans.
The doctor who suggested this had studied with heart surgeons in St.
Louis to learn the open-heart procedure which put a shunt into place. In
effect, the same procedure could re-establish blood flow to Buffy''s limb.
I agreed.
Buffy was the first dog to ever receive this surgical operation. It
was successful, however, due to the length of time her leg had been without
circulation, she was never able to bend it at the shoulder or joints. But,
she kept her leg!
From then on, Buffy walked stiff legged, swinging it outward and back
towards her body in a semi-circle movement. For the rest of her life, she
couldn''t run, but she could shuffle with great energy!
Fritz was convinced this dog ran for a month after Buffy''s death, up
and down the hill. But, no matter how many times we looked and asked
others, no one else had seen the running and dancing dog.
I know it was Buffy, letting me know she was okay now, running with
the wind, the same way she did when she was a puppy.
-- Margaret M. Savino <mms47 @ cornell.edu>