An Anniversary to Remember

On June 10, 1978, Pepper and I watched as Affirmed won the Triple Crown by edging out Alydar in the Belmont.We were on our 1-day honeymoon at DeGray Lodge in an Arkansas state park on Lake DeGray. We had eaten our Wedding Night dinner at Glynn's Truck Stop in Arkadelphia on our was to the Lodge after our Friday night wedding.  Here we are heading to the Lodge.  Look how young and skinny!

Flash forward 40 years. On June 9, 2018, Pepper and I watched as Justify took the Triple Crown!  It seems that our wedded bliss is good for racehorses.  Pep says we should watch another on our 80th anniversary.

Forty years married.  Dang.  I guess we'll keep one another around.

What a guy!

A Love Poem

A friend posted this on Facebook, noting that he always loved Johnny Carson and Brigadier General Jimmy Stewart. Me, too, so I decided to watch to see what the attraction was.

I sort of wish I hadn't.

Then again, I'm glad I did -- I got to have a little bit of a catharsis -- smiling through tears.  See what you think:


I re-posted it. This was my introduction:

"Oh, how I wish that it weren't true. I'll always love a dog named Bou.

And Jimmy Stewart.

I probably shouldn't have watched this."

And, yes I will always love a dog named Bou. And Rosie. And Wendy. And . . . .

Heartbreak at Moogie's Manor

We spoiled him mercilessly for the last few weeks of his life, cooking steak and burgers for him every few hours so he wouldn't starve. We soaked up all the love we could manage, then we let our precious pup, our Bouie, trot across the Rainbow Bridge on November 3rd. He was suffering from untreatable, diffused carcinoma of the liver, and even though he gave it a valiant battle, he let us know that he was ready to move on to his next adventure with companions, both old and new. The following is my Facebook post on that sad, sad morning:

"We held our Bouie as he crossed the bridge this morning. We took turns last night lying beside him on the floor -- he was always a floor kind of guy. He ate some rotisserie chicken for breakfast after a last walk with his best friend, and his canine family. He was so weary and weak that it didn't take long for his great, strong heart to stop, peacefully and painlessly. I told him that we'll see him soon. His best friend wrote a beautiful tribute to him. I love you, Bouligny Voodoo, forever and always. Au revoir, my precious puppy."

Here is Pepper's:

Somehow, my house, usually full of joy and activity, is very lonely and empty today. My best friend and soulmate, Bouie, went to heaven today. He was very sick with cancer and was becoming uncomfortable, and so we went yesterday to duck camp and walked around the fields and blinds for one last time. 
This was a great dog. He was a superb hunter, retriever and flusher, yes, but he was also a loving friend to all who knew him. He had ultimate patience, and let grandkids pull on him, run over his tail with bikes, all without complaint. When we went hunting, he knew the minute we stopped the truck where we were. He was excited and alert, wanting to miss nothing. When the alarm went off in the mornings of a hunt, he was first up, ears perked, pacing, ready to go. And he could go all day. Strong, fast, and bright, he hunted like the champion he was. 
From the time I drove to Texas to pick him up, as a strange, gangly, somewhat homely puppy with a pointy head and a long nose, he was skeptical at first, but soon became my best buddy. I can't say I walked him every day, but I bet I got 90%. It was our thing, to walk every morning and every evening, to run miles on the neutral ground. We would go to Bayou St. John twice a week and practice duck dog jumping and retrieves. We would practice marking and retrieving two, three, four birds. I taught him how to flush in one week, and he was one of the best at our hunting camp.
When Katrina hit and we moved back after a long evacuation, the City Park golf courses were closed, so we were able to run almost every weekend along the cart trails and through the woods, chasing whatever was there, and diving into any lake, bayou or creek that looked inviting.
This is the prayer I whispered in his ear as he went to sleep today:
"Dear Father, please welcome our boy Bouie, into your house, into your arms, into your heart. Please make him strong, fast and free again, without pain. Find some folks around heaven who will take him on walks, play fetch and retrieve with tennis balls and dummy ducks, and play catch with popcorn and pizza crusts. Every now and then, let him run through a park chasing white birds until they fly, and diving into water at full gallop. However you hunt in heaven, please take him along. He is masterful at it, and he loves it so. Most of all, Lord, let him find friends who love him, and who he can love. He is really good at that, and he loves it most of all."
Goodbye, my great friend."

An anonymous friend sent us this lovely Memorial Candle and "Bouie's Prayer." It warmed our hearts.

Some favorite Bouie moments:

 Bouie Puppy splashing in the waterbowl.

 On sentry duty

 Sweet face

 His favorite nap spot in Little Rock

Our hearts still hurt, and the girl dogs are still confused -- although they are very cuddly and mindful of where we are at all times.  My chest is tight and my eyes are a little leaky right now. There are just some family pets who creep into your very soul. He was one of those, and his absence physically hurts.

I brought Bouie's ashes home last Friday, so he is here with us again, resting in a place of honor where he can watch over all his loved ones.  So, cheers to you, Bou Boy!  See you soon.

Being "Thankful For My Family" Doesn't Begin to Describe How I'm Feeling Right About Now

 The funeral was yesterday.  My heart broke for those parents whom Fate had led to sit in front of an open casket, draped with both a folded American flag and an Arkansas Razorback flag, bearing the body of their 24 year-old son. My heart broke for his siblings.  My heart broke for the love of his life and mother of his child. For his son and extended family. For his brothers and sisters in arms. For his church family. For every parent in that room.

The slide show celebrating his life brought both tears and laughter. The three different preachers got their message of salvation across. The music was both iconic and touching, ranging from "Amazing Grace" to Kenny Chesney to Christian rap, among others. I must admit, I've never heard Christian rap before. It was interesting.

The whole service exhausted me. And it terrified me, as you will see, with good cause.

SIL#2 and Younger Daughter sat beside #2's mother in the front row.

The evening before, Wednesday evening, my precious young family was on I-30, on its way to the visitation, in stop-and-go rush hour traffic.  #2 was driving their 6 day-old Toyota Venza while YD sat in back with 10 month-old Grandbaby#5, without wearing her seatbelt so she could more easily tend to #5. (The car was their second brand-new car in less than a month, by the way, because the first one turned out to be a genuine, irreparable, dangerous lemon. This one was much better.)

SIL#2 had come to a safe stop, along with the flow of traffic, and (fortunately) within a reasonable distance from the car ahead of him, when YD saw him coming. She flung herself over the baby the split second before she felt the impact.

Daughter was slammed around the back seat; SIL#2 smacked his head on the windshield, even though he was wearing his seat belt. No air bags deployed. Thank God for a strong car seat -- a little fear was the worst that the Grandbaby suffered. The new car was, of course, rendered not drivable, but SIL managed to get it limpingly to the shoulder anyway, and without being driven into the car in front of them..

The unlicensed, non-English-speaking driver, with no insurance, who plowed into them at 50 mph in stop and go traffic told the State Trooper, before he was taken away on a stretcher to be treated at a hospital at taxpayer expense, that he had just consumed "solamente tres cervezas." (Only three beers.) And, we all know that "solamente tres cervezas" probably means several mas cervezas than tres.

Is my rage showing?

Pepper pulled into the driveway from running with Grandbaby#1 just as I was pulling out, so he hopped in the car with me and we got to the kids, during rush hour, in record time. I took #2 an ice pack. I'm not sure it helped him, but it helped me to be able to do something.

Today, the day after that sad, sad funeral, just remembering that phone call from Younger Daughter and its aftermath has opened the spigot on my teary faucet. I have sent up countless prayers thanking my good God for sheltering my family and preventing what might have been. My Facebook post thanked God and Toyota for their safety. The kids went to the ER later Wednesday evening with #2's father and his wife and checked out fine, but for the whiplash. They took a goofy photo there that showed them trussed up in neck braces, grinning and flashing thumbs up. YD texted the pic to me and Elder Daughter, captioning it as this year's Christmas card photo. I think the good drugs had kicked in by then.

They were stiff and sore yesterday, and SIL#2 still has a pretty impressive goose egg on his forehead, but they could have been so, so much more worse off. I can't imagine the panic that SIL#2's mother must have felt when she got that call from #2 explaining why they couldn't make it to the visitation.

The stress level at Moogie's Manor is running pretty high right about now, and we can't really put all of this behind us until Tuesday. We will bury that young man in the VA Cemetery on Tuesday -- the first day available for a burial. Pepper worked his contacts to smooth the process for the parents. Thirty-five years of military service pay off in the most unusual ways sometimes.

So. I need to turn my thoughts to happier places in my mind. How about more Spring flower pictures?

This is the bed in the side yard.  We put in the geraniums and croton earlier in the week. The pop of color makes us happy.

This is another view of the bed. The Son and his family gave me that Bottle Tree for Christmas. I really like it. Annnnd, I've added a couple of bottles to it since Christmas!  ;-)

I love the white azaleas beneath the Japanese maple at the top of the driveway.

This is the white dogwood and its companion Japanese maple beside the front door as seen from the dining room windows. I took this pic yesterday because gazing at this natural beauty reveling in the filtered sunlight gave me such a sense of peace.

Tell your loved ones how much they are loved. We are not promised tomorrow.

I hope this is the end of that Case of the Creeps I posted about in March. I think I'll go play in the dirt some more.

Get to Know Zeus' Place: A Haven for Critters

Copyright, Zeus' Place, New Orleans

With all the wicked and incomprehensible nonsense going on in the world, I'm just in the mood for a good ol' feel-good story and this news clip fits the bill perfectly. 

Michelle Ingram is the owner of Zeus' Place here in New Orleans.  Since she and her husband bought a flooded-out building after Katrina, she has transformed her little kennel into a thriving business enterprise where pets are lovingly boarded (including Bouie and Rosie -- yes, they board special needs pets!), groomed, and, literally, saved.  One of their sweet groomers has even figured out that our blind little Rosie won't freak out and is not so very hard to groom if she is simply held in the groomer's lap while getting gorgeous.  Now, that's a genuine animal lover.

Zeus' Place takes its name from Michelle's late chocolate lab, and, as you may have already surmised, the employees are among the nicest people you'd ever encounter.  The front office walls are covered with poster-size pictures of regular "clients," and the large front picture-windows are home to the kitty crates.  Kitties like to look out of windows, so this is the ideal spot for the many boarded and rescued cats from across the region.  In the evenings, the kitties (at least those that work and play well with others) are turned loose to play and romp.  It's a hoot to watch them on one of the many cameras they have set up so that you can monitor your pet, and check out the goings-on at ZP, via their website.

Adoption Days are staged regularly -- there's no telling how many pets have been placed in loving homes as a result of Michelle's hard work and the network she's cultivated over the years.  They even post photos on their website, and Facebook, of adoptables and "visiting pet of the day," along with a little narrative (or poem!) about the critter.

Zeus' Place was also an anchor in Freret Street's commercial renaissance following Katrina.  The transformation of that business corridor has been nothing short of remarkable, considering that it pretty much resembled the aftermath of Armageddon a few short years ago.  Well, I suppose it was smack-dab in the middle of the aftermath of Armageddon.  But today, it's a clean, cheery, bustling street with schools, businesses, monthly Markets, an annual festival, and even decorated bus stop shelters, thanks to the efforts of Michelle and company.

I feel blessed to count the Zeus' Place family among my friends.  I try to donate a little food to them every now and then because, well, just because.  Thank goodness there are such compassionate, energetic people in this sometime-dismal world!

Yesterday, Michelle and friends rescued a starving puppy stranded on an island, and WWL, the local CBS affiliate, went along for the ride.  It's a heart-warming story.  Enjoy!

Happy Belated Birthday . . .

. . . to our Rosie!  On January 6th she attained the ancient and revered age of 16.  In people years!

These pics were made back when she could still see and get around by herself outdoors.  She used to love to sit on the porch in the sun and watch the world go 'round, and yap at me to prepare her supper faster.

She's still a feisty little thing, despite having suffered several strokes that took her voice.  She's recovered her hearing now and her sense of smell.  She still likes to sniff around the front yard (and our dinner plates!), but I can't leave her unattended outdoors anymore.  She walks in circles, and I'm too scared she'd somehow get under the house and I couldn't get to her.

She may not be with us too much longer, but I'm going to treasure each and every day that she walks around in circles on the bed and wipes her face on me after she eats.

Sixteen years is a long time to love someone.

If she could only tell all the stories she must have on my kids!

A Simile Says it All

A little something for your "I want that!" list.