Are you beginning to see the theme about dogs being an ever constant part of my daily being by my posts?
Today makes the 11th straight day I have worked. It makes the 3rd night I've been home after work (and home before 11 pm) in those 11 days. I absolutely did not think I was going to make it. I've acquired an allergy to something in the air...and my throat is extremely sore, sneezes, sniffles, feel achy, feel drained...so I got up and took Chance to Camp Bow Wow today. They usually wear him out enough that I can rest in the evenings when he goes there for a day. And I had a lot of homework to do today.
I got off work, beat...went to pick up Chance, and encountered a person who'd broken down on the road. I pulled into Bow Wow, and hung out with Moe for a minute. When the lady there to pick up her dog, and the lady who didn't look like the type to drop her dog off at Day Care left, Moe told me that her car had broke down, and she'd been in there for the longest trying to bum money.
I do not understand people and their nerve. She'd asked Moe to loan her a dollar...ok, he works at Bow Wow, not exactly making a fortune...you know, if the lady had looked like she could half way stand on her own two feet without being a bum moocher, I'd have done anything in the world for her. But I can't stand people who just think because they ask you for a dollar that you should give it to them. And then when you say no, they ask again. What the fuck? Pardon my language, but I have seen days where I had absolutely not a penny to my name. I had no idea what I was going to eat for dinner, and did not know what I would be doing the next day--and I never asked a soul that I didn't know from Adam for a penny. I don't get it. I don't get people like that.
It makes me sad for them--that no one ever took the time to teach them about humanity, about morals, about human responsibility. I wonder how their life would have been different if someone had have cared about them when they were young. I'm sad for those people. I wanted to help this lady; yet, her mere personality showed me right away that she was used to just bumming her way through life, and she felt entitled to it.
Thank God I had someone to love me, to teach me that I'm not owed anything in life, that nothing but death is guaranteed, to teach me to love and pass on that love. I have often wondered what my path is here. I want to succeed, and I want to live by the sea (which unfortunately requires money)--but more than that, I've always wanted to garden, to help people, to be around people, and to share leading them. I wonder if I am discovering my calling?
Sarah Susanka's book, The Not So Big Life, has had a lasting effect on me. If you read, and you are a philosophic person, you will enjoy this. It transforms your life, I'm not totally transformed, and I have a very long journey ahead of me, but I see the world in a different light than I used to. If you listen to your inner self, you will begin to see that things and people in life present themselves to you as you learn who you are and what you desire to be. They will present themselves to you without your looking for them, and at just the right times.
I've noticed that pattern too in the past 2 or 3 years; if I think back, I've noticed it for most of my life, but I really began to become attuned to that a couple of years ago.
Was my encounter with this worthless person a call to my service to humanity? I'd love to take people like that and force them to learn to be responsible and appreciative by taking them to some 3rd world country and helping a village develop in agriculture. WOW! Teach them to help these people become part of the rest of the developed world--and as they do, to become developed themselves. People in America (and everywhere else), they forget how much they really have to offer the rest of the world.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Road Trip #1: Back to Ft. Benning
Brian sold his truck tonight. And the events that unfold around it to me are, well, strange. Ok, first of all, Brian got a new truck right after Christmas. Me, when I do something like that, I talk about it for awhile, then I go find one, look at it, then I contemplate it. Brian he talked about doing it in 5 months or so. He goes to look at a truck one day, and that night he bought it. Digressing as always, sorry...
So, his red truck has been on post for sale. No one in Lake St. Charles knew it was for sale besides our neighbors. When I got home from work today, he said a guy had looked at his truck today on post, asked if he could have a mechanic look at it, and that the guy lived in Lake St. Charles. I was like ok, whatever...
Tonight, we got back from running, and Brian got a phone call. The guy had decided to buy his truck was coming by to pay for the truck. So, when he did, I was on the backporch with Chance as usual...I walked into the house, leaving Furface to watch. I met the couple, and we chatted for a few minutes.
We got to talking about kids, and then dogs, and they mentioned their dog had recently passed away at the age of 13. They said she was huge--110 lbs, and white. They had prefaced all of that with she was a very attention-drawing dog, who looked larger than life, and who was a gentle giant. I immediately knew who the dog was...the first time I laid eyes on that dog was June 2008...4 months after Charlie died. I did a double-take while driving, and stopped to ask the lady about this magnificent dog.
She was beautiful, thick soft coat, and a big bushy plume of a tail. I could tell that in her day she'd been a beauty, and she also reminded me of my forever dog, Charlie. They looked so much alike that it was amazing, because I'd never seen a dog look like Charlie. The days following turning into a year, I would peak over the fence if I saw her walk down the street. She brought both a smile and a tear and this sense of a heart that still has a strong beat. Her name was Shatzy.
It took me until tonight to learn that she was an Italian Mountain Dog and they found her as a stray there. How odd that the people who own a dog in my neighborhood that looks identical to Charlie bought Brian's truck. I've been thinking of him a lot lately. I do that a lot still anyway, because I find myself saying that a lot. Perhaps it's that I look for him, his spirit in people, places, but every now and then, like tonight, I'm reminded that he's still with me. And with every thought there's still that choke in the throat, smile on my face, and big tears just about to spill over my eyelids, and I remember........
such a wonderful experience. I've been so miserable, and so rotten for the past two weeks, that I now remember what it was I learned from him. Don't take a single day for granted. And the big stuff really doesn't matter. And the little things are just pebbles.
So, for a bit, I've sat here and recalled in my mind the times I had at Ft. Benning. From when we moved in and Hurricane Ivan came through to meeting Hallie and Diesel the first time to watching Charlie run up the hill one morning with Diesel's leash in his mouth...to leaving a piece of Charlie at Russ Pond. I need to sit down and write about all those times, before they too slip by me like so many other memories have.
Call it coincidence. Call it karma. Call it weird. Call it thinking things into being. I believe that all things happen for a reason, though we may not understand it at the time. I believe in karma, and I believe that if you choose to open your mind to something, it will present itself. Whatever the case, today was a very magical day in my life. Some of the magic was white and good, and some was dark and bad, but the point I now know is IT WAS MAGICAL.
I hope your day was magical too.
So, his red truck has been on post for sale. No one in Lake St. Charles knew it was for sale besides our neighbors. When I got home from work today, he said a guy had looked at his truck today on post, asked if he could have a mechanic look at it, and that the guy lived in Lake St. Charles. I was like ok, whatever...
Tonight, we got back from running, and Brian got a phone call. The guy had decided to buy his truck was coming by to pay for the truck. So, when he did, I was on the backporch with Chance as usual...I walked into the house, leaving Furface to watch. I met the couple, and we chatted for a few minutes.
We got to talking about kids, and then dogs, and they mentioned their dog had recently passed away at the age of 13. They said she was huge--110 lbs, and white. They had prefaced all of that with she was a very attention-drawing dog, who looked larger than life, and who was a gentle giant. I immediately knew who the dog was...the first time I laid eyes on that dog was June 2008...4 months after Charlie died. I did a double-take while driving, and stopped to ask the lady about this magnificent dog.
She was beautiful, thick soft coat, and a big bushy plume of a tail. I could tell that in her day she'd been a beauty, and she also reminded me of my forever dog, Charlie. They looked so much alike that it was amazing, because I'd never seen a dog look like Charlie. The days following turning into a year, I would peak over the fence if I saw her walk down the street. She brought both a smile and a tear and this sense of a heart that still has a strong beat. Her name was Shatzy.
It took me until tonight to learn that she was an Italian Mountain Dog and they found her as a stray there. How odd that the people who own a dog in my neighborhood that looks identical to Charlie bought Brian's truck. I've been thinking of him a lot lately. I do that a lot still anyway, because I find myself saying that a lot. Perhaps it's that I look for him, his spirit in people, places, but every now and then, like tonight, I'm reminded that he's still with me. And with every thought there's still that choke in the throat, smile on my face, and big tears just about to spill over my eyelids, and I remember........
such a wonderful experience. I've been so miserable, and so rotten for the past two weeks, that I now remember what it was I learned from him. Don't take a single day for granted. And the big stuff really doesn't matter. And the little things are just pebbles.
So, for a bit, I've sat here and recalled in my mind the times I had at Ft. Benning. From when we moved in and Hurricane Ivan came through to meeting Hallie and Diesel the first time to watching Charlie run up the hill one morning with Diesel's leash in his mouth...to leaving a piece of Charlie at Russ Pond. I need to sit down and write about all those times, before they too slip by me like so many other memories have.
Call it coincidence. Call it karma. Call it weird. Call it thinking things into being. I believe that all things happen for a reason, though we may not understand it at the time. I believe in karma, and I believe that if you choose to open your mind to something, it will present itself. Whatever the case, today was a very magical day in my life. Some of the magic was white and good, and some was dark and bad, but the point I now know is IT WAS MAGICAL.
I hope your day was magical too.
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