Casey's Day

Today was Casey's day. Casey is my Cocker SpanielXBlue Heeler (Australian Cattle Dog). She was my 'granddog' until she was 10 months old and was given to me. She would do anything I ask of her. Even accept a second dog. She needed today to be 'her' day, so we packed up and headed to a special spot near the Appalachian Trail and off a blue blazed trail. We just sat for a couple hours. I scratched her tummy; we lazed away most of the afternoon.

Casey is still showing signs of depression, but I think today, because we did something that I've done only with her before, was a step towards helping her through her time of loss.

Then I went and made a dumb promise. Only the one person in on it knows of what I speak. I'll let the rest of you in on it in due time. Enjoy your week.

A prayer observed

Somewhere between deep sleep and awakening
I observed my grieving spirit pray from deep within itself.
It was I, yet it was not I, who both prayed and heard the words:
"God, I love you and I release Crockett into your care."
The depth of grief has touched bottom.
And at the bottom, there is God.

Tranquility Base, We have landed.

As you know, a week ago shortly after midnight turned the day into Saturday morning (Saturday 09/03/05), I lost my buff colored Cocker Spaniel, Crockett, to a hit and run. I have been in mourning all week. The grief will continue throughout the rest of my life, because I loved Crockett with every beat of my heart. Now, his memory is inside my heart, even though he's not also sitting next to me, as he usually was when I was on the computer.

What's the 'proper' length of time to mourn a much beloved dog? A week? Two? A month? Six? A year? Three? Mourning is the outward expression of grief. Grief is the inward sadness over an irreplaceable loss. And Crockett is irreplaceable. I toyed with the idea of getting a new dog or fostering an evacuee-dog from Hurricane Katrina. But my Casey-girl, my 'best mate,' is deserving of better from me. She too mourns the loss of "her" puppy. She shows signs that she misses "her" Crockett, too.

Casey got her shots Friday and I told our Veterinarian about Crockett. He was nearly in tears to learn about Crockett's death. Everyone loved Crockett.

But let me start my story (which will explain the title of this piece): My friends, N.W. and K.W., decided to have a yard sale. They had chosen today and I was invited to participate. I was also invited to spend Friday night at their lovely home. Casey was invited to stay in the bedroom with me. I would have been fine at home. I spent last Saturday, after the tragedy, at home, alone. But, maybe my friends were right, that I didn't need to be alone on a Friday night/Saturday morning just one week removed from tragedy. So I stayed the night.

My friends have a beautiful home and a very nice log cabin on over 13 acres of wooded property set far back from any main road. Just driving down the gravel road, one begins to feel the worries and cares of the day slowly lift from one's shoulders. It is very peaceful, very tranquil, back in the woods. It was where I needed to be one week past tragedy.

Ever be so peaceful in a place that leaving it is nearly a shock to your senses? I felt that "unnatural shock" driving home late this afternoon. Traffic? Too much traffic. People? Too many people. Young man raising money to aid Katrina victims? Give him some of your Yard Sale earnings. Home? Oh but the phone rings and a friend wants to treat you to supper. Bring a few bites home to Casey. Run to the computer. It is calmer here, but traffic noise overrides the songs of the natural world. Katydids and frogs. And where are the pileated woodpeckers I heard at my friends' home?

I miss the "sea of tranquility" where I landed for too short a time. I look forward to returning, not just to visit Crockett's gravesite, but to enjoy the company of caring friends.

Having the ability to love much brings with it the burden of suffering should one lose the object of that love. Whether it is a dog or a child or a parent or anything else in life, one must realize that in giving love, one risks suffering loss. Would it be better to steel oneself from all emotion, so as not to have to suffer from loss? No. And I feel sorry for those who don't feel a sense of pain when others are hurting. I feel sorry for those who treat animals as 'objects' rather than as part of the family.

And I feel very blessed to have friends who live near a tranquility base and where I can land on occasion and restore my sense of equilibrium.

My puppy, Crockett Nicolas

Crockett photos

K.W. sent me a slide show of Crockett photos he took.

I took so few, because I thought he'd be here longer than he was.

Much thanks to K.W. and N.W. for the photos and emotional support and sympathy. Also, for placing Crockett's body in a grave on their property and keeping his memory in their hearts.

Crockett was the catalyst for many friendships.

+Pace e Bene+ Crockett.

What Crockett Gave Me

Crockett's been gone now for nearly 120 hours (that's five days). I've talked to others who love their animals as I do. Most say it takes a good six months to grieve. One other said it took her two years one time. I think I'd miss an arm or leg less than I miss Crockett. How can I say goodbye to a memory I don't want to lose? How can I pretend that my heart doesn't have a hole in it, when in reality it does?

I've divorced twice and never felt this kind of grief over losing a husband. (They are replaceable now-a-days. Cynic that I am.) I don't even want to imagine losing either parent or one of my two children or six grandchildren. If losing Crockett is this bad, I'll be a basket case for sure if I lost a two legged loved one.


Today, I want to remember what Crockett has given me. He gave me patience to earn his trust. He gave me joy when he bounded and awe when he ran at full speed. He gave me an infection when he bit me. And I never blamed him for biting me, although he flinched when I touched him for about a week after he bit me. It was my fault, why should I get angry at the dog? He was my protector when anyone (even friends) got too close. He even jumped at our County Commissioner who was about to give me a 'side ways hug' one day at the dog walk track. He protected the car when I left him in it and went shopping -- get near my car and Crockie came at you barking loudly. He gave me music when the sirens sounded. He finally gave me tiny little barely touching kisses with his tongue, when he wanted to, not always when I wanted him to. And I learned from Crockett that sometimes, less is more. He also woke me up in the middle of the night when he 'smelled' whatever was coming into the yard. He introduced me to two wonderful friends that I'd never have known without him. For the short time (less than two years) that Crockett was in my life, he has given me much more than I could ever thank him for. Even including an infection and nights interrupted by barking. I'd give an arm or a leg or both to have him back. But since he's not coming back, I'll hug my Casey girl, the WonderDog, and remind her that she is never going outside without a leash. And I hope I am always friends with Auntie Deb and N.W. because of Crockett.

Homeless Fur Kid
Burrows into Hearts
Exits too Soon
Leaving Friendships to Bloom.


Thank you, Crockett, for what you've given me.

Crockett's Veterinarian Record

Yesterday (9/6/05) was not a good day. When I awoke, Casey tried to make it a good day by refusing to quit licking my face, eyes, nose and trying to get that slender tongue between my tightly closed lips until I started laughing. She has the ability to make me laugh even when my heart is breaking from the loss of Crockett.

At work, a co-worker kept me busy all morning. When there was someone in the office, it wasn't so bad. But when everyone left at 4:30 - 5:00 PM, the office was deathly quiet. And that's when the ache of loss crept in and the tears came.

It's not easy to answer a phone call when you're sobbing. Yes, more than crying, getting where my teeth were chattering. Missing Crockett terribly.

Yesterday was also a 'down' day for Casey. She plopped down and didn't much want to move. I came home during lunch time to walk her. When I brought her in and was about to leave, she tried to lead me to the bedroom. She wanted me to lie down beside her and scratch her tummy and give her my kisses.

After work, I took the poem I'd written for Crockett's Godmama out to the grave and placed it there. No, I won't publish the poem without her permission.

Today, 9/7/05, needs to become a good day. I have tons of work to do and very little time to do it. I need to go into work a bit early these next three mornings to get in more computer time.

You don't mourn what you don't love. And I loved Crockett dearly. A couple friends have told me it took them 6 months to complete the mourning process for pets they lost. One friend lost a sister shortly after losing a dog. She still grieves for that sister. I still grieve for my grandmother who passed away August 1, 1980. Crockett's Godmama still grieves for her cat, Kelley.

"What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger." Well, I'd prefer to be one-dog-weaker, thank you very much.

Casey doesn't go outside, even if it's just from car to house without a leash. I couldn't take losing both of my 'fur kids' -- that would surely "kill" me.

Count your blessings and go kiss your spouse. (No spouse? Make that significant-other-of-the-complementing-gender an honest person. No significant-other-of-the-complementing-other? Kiss the dog, cat, gerbil, ferret, bird, pet.)

The topic -- I failed to mention earlier that I made Casey's Vet appointment yesterday and had to tell them to write on Crockett's Vet record: Died 9/3/05 by hit and run. That just made it all too final. NOW go kiss the dog.

Monday morning 9/5/05 (Labor Day 2005)

Good morning. This is the first morning I haven't awakened to a wall of grief since Crockett was killed. My #1 dog, Casey, was on the bed when I awakened at 5:15 AM. She came up to my face and started licking. I guess she was expecting to lick the salty tears off my face as she has regularly done for the past couple of days. But this morning, there were no tears. I talked to her, kissed her furry head, and every so often she'd turn and lick my face to check for the taste of salt. But there are no tears this morning . . . yet.

A Definition of Grief:
The emotional depiction of great loss accompanied by a sense of hopelessness, anguish, denial, anger and confusion.

Hmm. First reaction for me: "Oh, Crockett, I'm so sorry." Along with effusive I love yous. And needing to know he forgave me for not protecting him from the car in the highway by leashing him.

Hopelessness was fleeting; after all, I'm 60 years old. I've lived through worse and I know that no amount of tears and bargaining with God will bring anyone back from the grave.

Anguish, oh yes. I know that I'm responsible for the protection of my pets. I failed Crockett. It's not an "I should have known" but more a "why didn't I prepare for all contingencies" kind of anguish. When the Shuttle blew up in the sky, I'm certain there were NASA employees who skipped over hopelessness and got directly into anguish.

Denial? I can't deny that my dog is dead. He's buried and I took my rock collection (sometimes I appear to have rocks for a brain) to the burial site and placed them around and on Crockett's grave. I lost a part of me when he was killed. Now, he has a special part of me as a memorial to my love for him.

Anger? I could get very angry, grab my shotgun and do a lot of damage to every vehicle which races past my driveway towing a metal flatbed trailer. And what would that accomplish? It wouldn't bring Crockett back. And if I'm in jail, how do I take care of Casey? Besides, my revenge is not nearly as appropriate as God's. I did write a letter to the editor of the local weekly paper. (See previous post.) And in it, as you know, I turned the judgment of the driver who killed my dog over to God.

Confusion? I was never in any confusion, although I've returned to my normal state of "dazed and confused" this morning. Besides, I thought the last stage of grief was "acceptance."

I know that there will be days when I revert to anguish. I believe the final stage of grief is more like "self-forgiveness" because I know Crockie loved me and wouldn't want me to blame myself for his running across the street -- he was a dog, he got on a scent and that superseded everything. But I know he was coming home to safety (and a leash) when he was struck by the vehicle and killed.

Some may read this and think 'how maudlin;' why don't you get over it? It was only a dog! Obviously, those who think that never met Crockett. He was not "just a dog" or "just a Cocker." Crockett was . . . Crockett. He was the sweetest Cocker Spaniel his groomer ever met (and she's not overly fond of Cockers). And he was and will remain in my heart my "sweet little boy."

Special thanks to N.W. and K.W. for the CD with the photos of Crockett.

St. Francis of Assisi loved animals and animals found him to be a tender friend and protector. St. Francis of Assisi has another dog to care for.


Found here.

And it may rain today and wash away the "trail of blood" on the highway. God's way of saying, "I have Crockett up here and he is the sweetest Cocker I ever had the pleasure of welcoming home." (And He may have to explain to St. Francis that Crockett really liked raw beef and chicken to eat while he was on Earth. I think that all animals revert back to their 'grazing ways' of the Garden of Eden when they enter their heavenly reward. In other words, they eat grasses for protein and not other animals.)

I love you, Crockett. My baby boy, I miss you. I will always love you.

My letter to the editor

Letter to the Editor:

Sir:

In the early moments of September 3, 2005, a vehicle pulling a metal flatbed trailer headed south on US Highway 129. As it crested the hill above Owltown Grocery, it was traveling in excess of the speed limit. I'm fairly sure that had the driver been traveling the speed limit, he could have slowed down when he saw the buff Cocker Spaniel running across the road. That particular section of US Highway 129 has houses and driveways just over the crest of the small hill where caution is always recommended at all times of the day or night. The driver could have slowed, honked and avoided hitting my dog.

The buff colored Cocker Spaniel had never ever gotten onto the highway before. Perhaps he smelled a carelessly tossed piece of food. Perhaps he saw something move in the driveway across the road. When he heard my call, I'm sure he came running as he always did when he was in the yard behind the house (where I assumed he was).

The thud I heard while I was searching for my dog in my yard, was the thud of the vehicle striking my dog. Not only did the driver hit my dog, the driver swerved into the oncoming lane to free the dog from his double axeled trailer wheels. Again I inquire, why was the driver driving so fast as his vehicle and trailer crested the hill? Why did the driver not honk at the dog to get the dog's attention or the attention of the owner? Why did the driver not slow down and change lanes to avoid hitting the dog? (The driver could have changed lanes, as there was no additional traffic until at least five minutes after )

The driver did not stop to render aid and assistance. In fact, his speed increased as he headed towards Owltown Grocery.

When I couldn't find my dog in the yard, I remembered the thud and the swerving, speeding vehicle. I found my dog lying in the highway, 30 feet from where he was hit with a trail of blood from one lane into the other where the driver of the hit and run had swerved to release the body. When I found my dog, I flashed my light at the second vehicle I'd seen that early morning, which was coming in the opposite direction of the hit and run, in the lane where my dog's lifeless body now lay. That car (traveling the speed limit) stopped. I carried the lifeless body of my buff Cocker Spaniel to the side of the road, knelt over him and began the grieving process. One of the two men who stopped to help, David, carried my dog to my yard where we wrapped him in a sheet.

I want to thank David and the unnamed man for stopping and helping me and my dog. I have a grieving heart because I would have leashed my dog had he ever gotten onto the highway before.

I urge the DOT to reduce the speed limit on Highway 129 South to 45 or 50 mph from the city limit to beyond Owltown Grocery.

To the Driver: Don't for a minute think that because it was dark and no one 'caught' you, that you got away with anything. God saw what you did and knows what was in your heart when you did it.

Ezekiel 18:30 Therefore will I judge every man according to his ways, . . . saith the Lord God.
Psalm 49:6 And the heavens shall declare his justice: for God is judge.

St. Matthew 10:29 Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and not one of them shall fall on the ground without your Father. (And that goes for dogs, too.)

S/S

O death, where is thy victory? O death, where is thy sting?

56 Now the sting of death is sin: and the power of sin is the law. 57 But thanks be to God, who hath given us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 58 Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast and unmovable; always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.

1 Corinthians 15: 55-58. Douay-Rheims

How this relates: The power of sin in this story is a law of physics: A projectile, in this case a speeding 3000-5000 pound vehicle with a flat trailer attached, comes sailing over the little crest of a hill before my mailbox can be seen, strikes and kills a 35 pound buff Cocker Spaniel running home not 4 feet from my driveway, and drags the body 30 feet weaving in the road so the body of that animal will be released from the double axel trailer.

The driver didn't have to drive like a bat out of Hades (as so many do up here in the mountains) at 12:15 AM or there about, as September 3rd was beginning. The driver could have stopped to render aid and comfort. Personally, I think he intentionally did not slow down and did not honk because he saw a 'target' in the road. NOW, don't go saying, Auntie Coosa, how can you say that? You don't live where I live. Many people here think of dogs and horses as expendable pieces of property. They don't get emotionally attached. Sometimes, the same people who think a 'bad' dog can be 'put down' with a gun at the owner's convenience, also beat their children and wives. You have to live here to know how wide-spread this type of aberrant behavior is.

The sting of death is sin: I should have leashed my dog and would have if he had ever gone into the street before. Something enticed him. Was it a piece of bread in the highway, tossed carelessly by the grade-schooler getting on the school bus? Was it an animal that ran across the highway? My dog was headed home when he was hit. The sting of death hurts so much that I am often overwhelmed with grief.

Yes, I sinned in not protecting my dog to the fullest way I knew how. I live with grief and a broken heart. Had the driver honked, slowed and I been able to grab my dog, he would never ever have been allowed off leash. That was the first time he ever went into the highway. And instead of him being alive and leashed, he's dead and buried.

The driver of the vehicle, on the other hand, lives knowing he or she is a hit and run dog-slaughterer. And a person who would hit a dog standing in the road rather than avoid the death of the animal, will be judged of God. No one was driving in the on-coming lane. The driver made a choice to kill my dog rather than honk the horn, slow down, and avoid my dog's death.

Second stage of grief is anger? I don't have to be angry. God knows. I have turned it over to Him to handle. I will be writing a letter to the editor of the local paper regarding drivers hitting 'targets' in the road.

I spent the better part of the afternoon near my Cocker Spaniel's grave and with his Godmama, who also grieves.

57 But thanks be to God, who hath given us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Photos -- where are you hiding?

I can't recall if I took any photos of Crockett. I tried to download from my camera and lost what photos I did have somewhere in my computer. I may have had a photo with Crockett in the photo. I think he was in at least one of the photos.

I've got to wait until I can ask someone who knows how computers hide things to see if we can find my photos.

And to top all that off, the drawer that the CD goes into won't eject.

And I can't make it to Church because I was trying to download photos to see the ones I took of Crockett's grave.

This has turned into a horrible nightmare weekend. Will someone please wake me up?

This cannot be reality. It just can't be. Night times are miserable but mornings are worse.

Joys shared are twice joy, what are sorrows shared? Twice or half? My money is on the former.


Found here.


Found here.

If I've learned one thing, well, two, it is: First, make sure your Easyshare disk is in the computer before downloading precious photos and don't delete from photo-card until you're SURE they are in the computer; Second and Most Important: Take a ton of photos. You never know when they're going to be more precious than gold.

Another thing I've learned is that friendship makes sorrow easier to bear, even if friendship can't reduce the enormity of that sorrow. {Thanks for being there "N.W." to bear the other half of the of sorrow.}

As crazy as I am, I've been looking at photos of Cocker Spaniels available for adoption. I've found quite a few in Georgia. I never had any dream of Crockett telling me it was okay to pass along my love for him to another Cocker. Am I supposed to wait?

When I got Crockett, he didn't know how to jump up on furniture, the bed, or into a car. He tried to CLIMB. It was so funny to watch. Casey taught him what to do. She's asleep here. I'm going to get ready to return to Crockett's gravesite to place some of the rocks I've collected over the years at his gravesite.

THIS time when I download photos -- I'll do it correctly.

Will I see Crockett in Heaven?

O Blessed Trinity,

We thank You for having graced the Church with Pope John Paul II and for allowing the tenderness of Your fatherly care, the glory of the cross of Christ, and the splendor of the Holy Spirit, to shine through him.

Trusting fully in Your infinite mercy and in the maternal intercession of Mary, he has given us a living image of Jesus the Good Shepherd, and has shown us that holiness is the necessary measure of ordinary Christian life and is the way of achieving eternal communion with You.

Grant us, by his intercession, and according to Your will, the graces we implore, hoping that he will soon be numbered among Your saints.

Amen.

Dear Holy Trinity,

The grace I implore is a miracle. I beg Pope John Paul II to intercede on my behalf for a great and wonderful miracle. It's a miracle nearly too impossible to ask, but I do beseech God, Who knows when a sparrow falls and Who knows when a dog is run over, to grant me this miracle. The greatest miracle is Jesus. Faith is a miracle. Hope is a greater miracle. Love is the greatest. Because Love's name is God. For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him shall not perish but shall have eternal life.

Amen and Amen. Pace e Bene.



The following are excerpts from
Will I See Fido in Heaven?

Animals Do Have a Soul

In the Old Testament, the soul means "living being." The soul is the living being of a person or an animal. The soul is the psyche, the mind, the emotions, the self-image -- the psychological being apart from the spiritual being.

The King James Authorized Version, revised and edited by W.C. Sanderson, indicates in a footnote that "soul" or "living being" are alternative translations for "life." The soul perceives, thinks, feels, and makes decisions and choices. In man, the soul can also cause sin. God gave man the choice to choose sin or righteousness, to worship himself or God.

The lesser animals were not given this choice. God put them under the protection and dominion of man.

Animals Do Have a Spirit

The word "spirit" (ruach in Hebrew) means "wind, breath -- the living power of God's will at work." The spirit is the essence and will of God given to all humans and animals.

"I decided that God is testing us, to show us that we are no better than animals. After all, the same fate awaits man and animals alike. One dies just like the other. They are the same kind of creature. A human being is no better off than an animal, because life has no meaning for either. They are both going to the same place - the dust. They both came from it; they will both go back to it. How can anyone be sure that a man's spirit goes upward while an animal's spirit goes down into the ground?"
(Ecclesiastes 3:18-21 TEV)

God has dominion over both his lesser creatures and man. All souls belong to Him and God can do with all His creatures whatever He chooses. The Book of Job says:

"Who knoweth not in all these that the hand of the Lord hath wrought this? In whose hand is the soul of every living thing, and the breath of all mankind."
(Job 12:9-10 KJV) (I know, I'm a Roman Catholic and I'm quoting from a book that uses the KJV. Well, get over it. I'm still a Roman Catholic and God is still God. And, she quotes from the Douay-Rheims below.)

Animals Are Innocent

The Scriptures say that animals are not of themselves sinners, but are subject to the results of sin -- not of their own accord, but because of man's sins.

God subjected animals to death just as He did man. However, in doing so, He also gave them hope for the future. Paul wrote in the Book of Romans:

"Because the creature itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now."
(Romans 8:21-22 KJV)

Animals Share in the Covenant with Noah

Sin continued and the condition of the earth worsened...God decided to destroy the world with a flood. However, He found one man named Noah who, along with his family, was righteous before Him. God decided to save Noah and his family and at least one pair of each kind of animal.

Genesis 9:8-16 gives us seven accounts of God's covenant with both man and animals concerning our survival on planet Earth as long as the earth remains. It says, in part, in the original DOUAY-RHEIMS version:

"...Thus also said God to Noe (Noah), and to his sons with him, behold, I establish my covenant with you and with your seed after you;

And with every living soul that is with you, as well in all birds as in cattle and beasts of the earth, that are come forth out of the ark,

I will establish my covenant with you, and all flesh shall be no more destroyed with the waters of a flood,

And God said: This is the sign of the covenant which I give between me and you, and to every living soul that is with you, for perpetual generations.

And I will remember my covenant with you, and with every living soul that beareth flesh: and there shall no more be waters of a flood to destroy all flesh.

And the bow shall be in the clouds, and I shall see it, and shall remember the everlasting covenant that was made between God and every living soul of all flesh which is upon the earth."
(Genesis 9:3-16)

Animals were meant to live forever, just like Man

The Scriptures tell us that animals do have an eternal existence with God, along with the children of God. They have a soul and a spirit, just like we do. Paul's letter to the Ephesians tells us that God works all things (creation) after His will.

"Let everything he has made give praise to him. For he issues his command, and they came into being; he established them forever and forever. His orders will never be revoked."
(Psalm 148:5-6 TLB)


Will I See Fido in Heaven?
When you realize that life does not end at physical death, the pain of losing a pet is not so bad. "Will I See Fido (My Pet) in Heaven?" will bring peace, great joy, enlightenment, and contentment to all who truly love their pets and hope to see them in Heaven.


(I put this on my other blog and decided to replicate it here.)

In Loving Memory of Crockett, 9/3/05

Crockett, my 'foundling' Cocker Spaniel, was hit by a car just after midnight in the early minutes of September 3rd, 2005.

Crockett was found by a friend who didn't want to give him up to a no-kill shelter because she wanted to be able to see him occasionally.

Crockett was a full blooded Cocker Spaniel. He'd been 'on the road' for a few months, at least two before my friend took him home. She called him Sandy, but he didn't respond. I read through a book of "names to name your pet" and finally got to Crockett. He responded.

I got him in November 2 years ago. It took him over a year to really trust me.

When we got home from a busy day today, for some reason, he ran across the street. He's NEVER done that. I was calling to him and the car with the trailer was driving in the middle of the road. Crockett was coming home from across the street because I called him. And he got hit. He died instantly. I walked around the house and tried to locate him and then remembered the "thud" when the car and trailer passed my house.

NO, but I saw a shadow and I slid and fell down the embankment, lost my cap in the fall, and it was Crockett. I flagged a car down and then moved him to the side of the road. Then I called Crockett's 'godmama' and told her what happened. A kind man named David moved him to my front yard. I called my daughter and son and a friend. I haven't called his groomer yet. I'll do that later. Crockie's godmama came and is going to bury him in their yard. I feel as if I let her down. I didn't take very good care of 'our' dog.

Oh, Crockett, I am so so sorry. I love you, Crockie PooPoo.

Casey's an only dog again. She sniffed Crockett and she's licked his blood from my hands. They're still bloody. I am so sorry, Crockett. I let you down. I didn't leash you. You were supposed to live to be 20 years old. Or I thought so. You were my 'baby boy.' Oh, Crockie, I love you so much.

I believe that God doesn't allow things to happen without a reason. I need a reason. Dear God, I need a reason.

I never got to take Crockett backpacking. I don't even have a really good photo of Crockett. Just my memories and my heart. I loved him so much. I love him so much.

Today, actually Friday, we stopped at my cousins and took her and her two dogs to locate a gravesite of a Great Granddaughter of Daniel Boone. Before we did that, we stopped at Crockett's godmama's house. We spent about an hour there and that was the last time she saw Crockett alive. I'm so glad we stopped by. Was that directed by God because He knew that Crockett was going to 'act like a dog' and go running after something across the street and get hit coming home to mama? He was facing the house, so he was running back across the street when he got hit. And the guy who hit him didn't even stop.

My heart is broken. I have broken Crockie's godmama's heart. I'm so sorry. I let everyone down. A simple leash. I had a leash in the car. Crockie always stayed in the yard. Until tonight -- Why God? Give me a sign, a reason, something to let me know that there is a reason and maybe I won't know what it is, but You know it and one day I'll know it.

I'm so sorry. I am so so sorry.

Crockett was a smilie-face. He loved to stick his head out the window of the car and sniff the wind. He was so sweet. He never got to be 'old' -- he'll always be a four (we think) year old puppy. He was so spoiled. He was so precious. And one day, he runs across the street instead of into the house. And I call for him, he comes running. And gets hit by a car driving in the middle of the road. And I could have prevented it, if I'd just put him on a leash. He was coming home to me because I called him. My smilie-face dog is gone.



I love you Crockett. I'm sorry I didn't take better care of you. I will always miss you. I'll miss you, Crockie. I love you, baby boy. I love you Crockett.

Getting Educated

A young Muslim attending Lovett College, a residential college at Rice University in Houston, TX, wrote an article in essence stating that the non-Muslim couldn't understand Islam without some education.

So, for your educational enlightenment, I offer the following websites:

• Confronting the Global Jihad


• Internet Haganah


• Jihad Watch


• Jihad and Terrorism Studies Project


• Middle East Media Research Institute


• MEMRI TV Monitor Project


• Islam Online


• Islamic Awakening


• Islamic Awakening Forums


• The Agenda of Islam - A War Between Civilizations


• Islam's Dark Past


• 10 Myths about Islam


• Punishing Disobedient Wives


• Ask the Imam - Slavery OK in Islam

Border Field State Park

Never heard of it?

It's in San Diego County, California.

It's an accident waiting to happen. Only it won't be an accident, because "the powers that be" know all about it and since it's their 'cash cow' or should I say 'grant money sinkhole,' they won't do anything to stop the flow of money.

Read the article first, come back and comment. Then write your Congressperson.

As Pogo once said: We have met the enemy, and he is us.

It's up to you and me to make a difference.

Michael Yon reporting from Iraq

From MSNBC.com: "There is actually good reporting coming from Iraq -- check out Michael Yon's blog, for example. And it's possible to get a clearer picture of the strategic picture than most big media accounts provide."

Michael Yon is an independent, informed observer chronicling the monumentally important events in the efforts to stabilize Iraq. His dispatches have the benefit of his life experiences without drawbacks based on deadlines or demands of marketplace. The cost of these dispatches is borne solely by Michael.

The reporting and the photos are straight from the hip and well written.

Michael Yon : Online Magazine

Recommended reading for insight into the War on Terror taking place in Iraq.

My great great granddaddy's rifle?

Confession from my childhood

I mean my really really childhood. I was about 4 or maybe 5 when my Grandfather had a heart attack. All I recall is knowing that somehow THAT MAN in the black car caused my Grandfather to have to stay in bed. So of course in my little childlike mind, I blamed him for my Grandfather's condition.

No one loved my Grandfather more than I, except maybe my brother. My "Paw Paw" was the greatest. My earliest memory is when I was about nine months old. Paw Paw was holding me over his shoulder and rocking me. Back and forth, back and forth, as I tried to focus on the wooden screen door in the house my grandparents lived in at the time. The aroma of pipe tobacco takes me back to that memory. My Paw Paw could fix anything. My parents tell me that one evening I noticed a partial moon in the sky and said "Uh Oh, broken moon. Paw Paw fix it." I don't recall that, but I do recall being carried around by my grandfather when I was a toddler. I recall being carried in his arms to look at his flowers. My grandparents had peonies in Montgomery, Alabama. They knew the 'secret' to get them to bloom that far South. My Paw Paw grew Night-Blooming Cereus regularly. I recall being able to stay up one night so that I could see the flower in bloom.



Well back to my confession: There was another child playing with me in front of the house (I had been shoo'ed away, which was fairly normal back when parents shielded their children from the harshness of life and death.) Well, since it was THAT MAN's fault my Grandfather was sick (to my childish mind), I decided I would just 'fix' him for making my Grandfather have to stay in bed. I found a couple pieces of broken glass somewhere along the curb and I wedged the larger piece between the rubber of the black car's passenger side tire and the road. I was called back into the house before THAT MAN left, so I never knew if he ended up with an 'unexplained' flat tire.

To this day, I wonder about it. And I miss my Grandparents very much. My Grandfather passed away in 1974. My Grandmother was my age now when I was born. I never knew her younger than 60. And I was blessed to have her until 1980.

Did I tell you I miss my Grandparents? I hope my grandchildren can say the same thing about me one day. But not any day too soon. I have a lot of living planned for my retirement.

If you want to know how to grow Peonies where it doesn't get cold enough to grow peonies, ask me in the comments.

Training done

Well, no, it didn't look exactly like that. But it was classroom training AFTER we'd done online internet training. It went well, other than some of us, me included, being exhausted from driving an hour and a half or more in the heat of the plateau leading to the gulley of Atlanta. I said gulley not gutter. You want a heat index of 107* today? That's what Atlanta had. I'm sure we were close to 97* easily. Blacktop highways are HoT. No getting around it. Especially when all the trees are cut back for convenience.

I'm glad the training is over. Maybe I can get some of my life back together.

Or not.

I'm threatening to quit my job when I reach 62. You wouldn't believe the number of people in this week's small newspaper who have passed away and were not even sixty years old! My grandmother was 60 when I was born. Sixty is just NOT old in my family. Ninety five is old. Sixty is "second wind."

I'm thinking of taking Kung Fu or Tae Kwan Do. Finding an instructor in this small mountain town is the problem now. I want to be fairly proficient, maybe a second or third belt, by the time I hike the AT.

Yes, that's still in the planning. So little time, so many trails.

Happy Trails to you.

I still hate my job

My job hasn't gotten better. I have to finish my online training before classes on Monday and Tuesday and I still have eight cases to complete. And not enough time to complete them. But I'll have to get them finished so they're not over standard of promptness. And of course the information that I need to contact the people is out of date.

I can't do my job because someone down the line failed to do his job. But he doesn't get written up about it. I will, though.

My supervisor says learning the stuff we're forced to learn is "job security" and I told her I'd rather take my chances.

And you must have figured it out. I'm not going to last until 2008. I'm going to be fortunate if I last until the end of October 2006. I won't have all my bills paid off, but that's too bad. I'll have to use money I planned to use for a vehicle to pay off most of my debt. I'll end up with less than $2000 a month to live on. My two dogs and I. I figure we can manage. I'll make the necessary adjustments.

I'm still planning to hike the Appalachian Trail. More than once. I just need to find people to keep the dogs for me when I hike. I figure the first time will be the hardest, but I don't plan to carry heavy gear and I only plan to have a couple of mail-drops in a few strategic places. And I plan to hike all day and sleep at night. I'm thinking 4 to 5 months for the entire hike.

Well, I'm going to close down and go watch a DVD on my new personal DVD player. Because I'll be taking the online course on Saturday and Sunday.

Later!