A sad day

 

Loyal, loving and patient-
Three words to describe a best friend- And the perfect words to describe Otis.

If you had asked me a week ago, I would have told you he had a good 2 years left. He went swimming with us, walked around the neighborhood, and even found enough strength to jump into the back of the jeep. But this morning, when he would not get up for even a piece of bacon, I knew that my goodbyes were hours away.

He was just the dog you could not help but love. He followed anyone everywhere, he let kids climb on him without once snarling a tooth. And when he was full of joy he not only waggled his tail, but he waggled his whole body. He was big and lumpy with rotten breath, but his eyes were full of kindness and wisdom.

So, as I lay stretched out with Otis on the floor of the vet's this morning, it was only natural that his eyes were looking at me, giving me the comfort that I needed. He somehow made my goodbye a little easier.

And honestly, I think I am going to miss that rotten breath the most of all.

Go Dog, Go!!!

 

 

 

One of the greatest joys in my life are my dogs. I have 3 of them, all rather large Labrador Retrievers with very different personalities. Their passions include fighting for my attention, marking every nice thing in the house(it is a rather annoying competition they have), chasing birds, and swimming. I try, as often as I can, to take them swimming. About a mile from my house is a small pond, commonly known as "the duck pond". The howling and deep panting begins as we turn the bend. It's like horses at the Kentucky Derby when the gates are open. As soon as I swing open the back of the jeep they charge out with such power and adrenaline! Deacon and Otis look at me longingly in the water with anticipation that I may throw something for them. But Boo, sweet ole Boo, has something completely different in mind . The minute he has charged out he is on a mission- to catch a duck. But nobody flies away. In fact, the geese that are in the grass actually get in the water. You see, I think they like the game. They enjoy taunting Boo. As Boo approaches any of them by about 3 feet or so(close enough to get a little nervous about what to do if he does get one) they dive under the water and appear on the other side of the pond seconds later. Boo is left looking utterly confused, momentarily, until he spots them and begins the chase again . This can on for an hour or more. He is determined that one day he will catch a duck. It doesn't matter that they can fly or dive to their escape every time. Boo's persistence, determination and passion keep him out there.

It is quite a sight to be seen. Unfortunately the policeman drove by the other day and told me that we could not be out there any longer because of the leash law. Leash law, seriously? You expect me to bridle Boo's enthusiasm over your leash law? I suppose I will have to find another pond, with more geese and let them play there until I am stopped again.
It would be awesome if we all had that enthusiasm and persistence for something in life and we went after it, no matter what the outcome. But many times we put the leash on ourselves- because we are scared of failure, or judgement. If we could just GO AFTER IT, whatever IT is, the way Boo goes after those ducks, we would all be happier.

A battle won...

Hi. My name is Cathy and I am an alcoholic. I have been surrounded by alcohol my whole life. It is a relationship I cannot quite kick, though I try, time after time.
The relationship started before I was born. I am quite sure that having a couple drinks did the same thing to my mother that it did for me in the beginning. She and I were a lot alike. She was shy and soft spoken and suffered from self-esteem issues. If she felt anything like I did, those first drinks probably loosened her up a bit and gave her the confidence she had searched her whole life for. Even on her first blind date with my father she had had too much to drink, passed out in Dad's apartment, and got kicked out from Emory the next day for spending the night out of her dormitory(Times have changed since then!). By the time she was a mother of four, she had spiraled out of control. She remained shut off from the rest of the world and managed to have only one significant relationship in her life, Bourbon and Ginger's. She refused to let anyone else remotely close to her. Yet, occasionally, when she was blistering drunk, it would be the time that she would want to tell me how much she loved me, and how sorry she was for being such a bad mom. Alcohol opened her up, allowed her to reveal her feelings, even helped her stretch her arms out to me and give me that rare hug. So, in a sick way, alcohol was my friend before we even met head on.
Oh! But did that first encounter ever come!!! 30 minutes after I took a swig of that warm, brown juice she was my best friend. I was 13. I was painfully shy. Although I appeared to have friends, I felt very alone in the world. You see, with the dysfunction that was going on in my own house, it was nearly impossible to really have friends. You cannot invite them over to your home, you cannot share what is happening, and you are constantly jealous of what "normal" people have. I was isolated. So when that sweet, brown bourbon kicked in, my life, as I knew it, had changed. It comforted me. It took my inhibitions away. I felt confident and secure. As weeks, then months went by, I felt more popular. The high I felt from drinking, the false security it gave me, was enough to get me through the week. My head was held a little higher. My smile a little broader. My friendship circles grew significantly..
Those months turned into years. Drinking was an every weekend event for me from the moment I started. About a year into drinking, the blackouts began. The vomiting was frequent. We laughed about it. We thought we were indestructible( as a parent of an 11 year old, this frightens me to pieces!)But soon, friends began to become concerned. Even my parents began receiving phone calls from friends, worried. (I will add that although I was making poor choices with my behavior, my choice of friendships in High School was a God intervened act!) And by the time I was in college, drinking had LONG past being my friend, and had pushed me on a path that was not simply just poor choices, but it was incredibly dangerous. I will never forget the moment that started my fight against alcohol. I was at a fraternity party, extremely inebriated, when I ran into my older, and very cherished, brother Richard. He looked at me with such disdain, and said, "Cathy, you disgust me. You look and act just like Mom right now." Everything else about that night was a blackout, but running into him ate at me, and continued to for a long time. It did not stop me from drinking that week or month or year, but it remained in the back of my mind and haunted me.
I made the decision to quit drinking at the age of 21, the legal age of drinking. I'd had enough. I had the remarkable support of my father, and such great encouragement from my friends. I have been sober for 20 years on April 28th. I never looked back. Everyday I praise God for sobriety and helping me get off that scary path of danger and self destruction!
And although I had banished her from being my personal demon to fight, the alcohol has found ways of manifesting herself into those that I love, and getting to me that way. She has been involved in the deaths of three family members. She tried REAL hard to come between those I love most dearly in the world, but thankfully failed.
And though I am blessed to have a reprieve from fighting any battles, or having to sit on the sideline and watch, they do say, quite certainly, that Alcoholism is hereditary. She better not mess with my boys! But if she so chooses to, I will do all that I can to equip them.


"Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his strength of His might. Put on the full armor of God, so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil."
Ephesians 6:10-11