Our Faith, our Hope, and our Honor
Written in pencil on the back of this photograph it says that this is my great-grandparents, and my grandfather celebrating Independence Day 1929. I hope you spend your fourth with people you love, blessing God for America, since he has blessed us.
Our hearts where they rocked our cradle,
Our love where we spent our toil,
And our faith, and our hope, and our honor,
We pledge to our native soil.
God gave all men all earth to love,
But since our hearts are small,
Ordained for each one spot should prove
Beloved over all.
~Rudyard Kipling
In which I learn never to say never.
Remember a couple of weeks ago when I posted this picture and said there was a long story coming? Well, this is it.
In November a good friend of mine from church told me about five dogs and two cats who were living across the street from her in horrible conditions at the home of a mutual acquaintance. This acquaintance was not, is not, a bad person, however she is the single mom of three children, and has a long history of getting puppies and then getting rid of them once they are no longer cute. She works very hard, very long hours, away from home, and all of her animals were neglected. There is just not a nice way to say that, good person or not, these animals were neglected. One of these dogs was Ellie-Mae.
It had been exactly three years since Polly died. My sweet, funny, ridiculous little Polly. We remained a family with just one dog because I knew we could not replace Polly. I have no idea what possessed me to call this acquaintance and offer to take one of the dogs off her overworked hands, but I did. I did it without even talking to The Husband first, something I never do.
The first time I saw Ellie she was covered in long matted hair which was soaked in urine and had dried feces all over her. She had been kept in a crate all the time, and had never been taught even the basics of house training. She thought her crate was where she should sleep, eat, and poop. She possessed zero social skills, did not like to cuddle, or play with people. She was woefully underweight. I loaded her in the Huckablazer, begrudgingly took the beyond nasty crate, and headed for home. It took three baths before we could even stand for her to be in the house, and I had her shaved the very next morning–helping the smell, but not the ribs sticking out. A trip later in the day to the vet revealed a host of infections, all caused by neglect. She weighed less than four pounds.
It took hundreds of dollars worth of vet bills and medication to get her well, but we did it anyway. We all wanted this little dog to be part of our family. We fed her, and fed her, and fed her. We tried to play with her, but while she loved to play in the backyard with Katydid, she never really took to any of us. We had her spayed to ensure she would never have to go through what her puppymill mother did. We tried every trick for house breaking her, all except for the crate she was so afraid of. We patiently reminded ourselves she was just a puppy as we cleaned up accident after accident. We rolled up our rugs confident we could put them back down when she was older.
I went back to the vet a couple of months ago, at the end of my rope with Ellie. She was pulling toys out of toy baskets to destroy. She barked all the time. She was resistant to all house breaking attempts. He told me that she missed out on very important socialization as a little puppy, that she was an inbred puppymill dog, and that our only hope might be to permanently medicate her. Permanently medicate her! So she would be lethargic, and miserable all the time. We went to PetSmart and bought a pen for inside instead. I would take her on long walks to get her energy out, but she never got the hang of walking on a leash. We left her outside to play as much as possible during the day, and at night tried to get her to bond with us, and then put her in her pen to sleep. The one the son is pretending to be a dog in at the top of the screen.
This worked for about a week, then she figured out how to escape, and was causing havoc all night long. We bought tons of high energy dog toys for her to chew on and entertain her. None of us were sleeping. Then The Husband devised a plan involving kitchen chairs, and long pieces of cardboard to try and keep her in the pen. It did not work either, she was not as stupid as everyone thought–but she was wild. Before The Son and I went to New York, I picked up every single toy, every single anything which Ellie could destroy. At night while The Husband was sleeping, she escaped and climbed onto The Son’s train table and killed a few of Thomas’ friends. She got into the entry way, knocked over the basket of shoes and ate The Husband’s father’s day present. The Husband called the next day REALLY angry.
This dog was causing my little family a lot of grief, a lot of money, and a lot of energy. Everyone told me to just get rid of her. EVERYONE. But I really struggled because I have always said that pets are for life! That you do not get a pet and then abandon it when the going gets rough, that pets are hard work and if you are not willing to put in the sweat equity, then you do not deserve a pet. I thought back to how judge-y I was when Shoeshe had to find a new home for one of her dogs, how I thought she gave in too soon. I remembered how I felt when I heard of families giving away animals when they moved because new apartments did not allow pets. I still believe all of those things! However I seem to have learned a lesson this year that at some point the quality of life for the people in your house is more important than the quality of life for the animals–and sometimes the hurts that happen early in an animals life are too big for the average pet owner to fix.
I get it now. Shoeshe, I am sorry. You did the right thing with Gracie. She was not a good fit for you, and Ellie was not a good fit for us. We fought the good fight. We tried, we really, really did, but Ellie needed more than we could give her. She needed a professional. I hope the home I picked for her is as wonderful as I was told. I am still worried, and still feel horribly, horribly guilty-but I have not had to wipe up a pee spot in three days, and not a single shoe or toy has been destroyed, and that does feel pretty good.
Filed under Boy is my face red, Soap box, lexapro lexplains it | Comments (2)Just too cute for her own good!
Guess what y’all!? 7daytrial went and had herself a baby! A girl baby! A REALLYFREAKINCUTE girl baby! And I guessed her weight and length in the baby pool!
See!
Isn’t she just a doll? I want to kiss those little cheeks like no one’s business. Well this child deserves a kick ass baby shower, and living hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of miles away is not going to stop me, the best baby shower thrower this side of the Mississippi! We are going to use technology and have us a shower, hosted by JHJ and Me. The people who live nearish to Vegas are going to go to 7daytrial’s house. The people that live nearish to Hometown are going to come to my house. People who live else where will stay at home and participate online. We will use web cams, and speaker phones, and IM and it will be GREAT.
Want details so you can come? Email me at heyyou at thehuckablog dot com
Filed under Uncategorized | Comment (0)missing
I love being a wife. I love almost all my roles in this little life of mine, but wife is one of my favorites. I like having a partner, and friend who is always there, a um, you know those husband and wifely type things person, a better half, a confidant. I am really, really, REALLY missing him right now. I miss reaching over and touching his shoulder while we are both just falling asleep. I miss teasing him about his David Bowie hair before he takes his shower, I miss the way he smiles, rolls his eyes, and says “Good Grief” at my punny jokes. I REALLY miss the way he does half of the parenting-the good, the bad, and the ugly.
I could never be a military wife. Yes, our soldiers should get every accolade, but their wives? They are the ones holding all the important things together on their own. One week, and I am a mess.
I am sorry that I did not get up a Father’s Day post, I have been living in a FREEZING hotel pool with a little fish who begs to go swimming every five minutes. Apparently the scare at my first cousin once removed’s (I think? My Dad’s first cousin?) pool did not scar him too badly. (short version of that story–Son fell in a really cold pool. Man jumped in and pulled him out. Son was scared, but not hurt. He cried. I cried. I hugged wet man. Man ruined cell and his cigs. Should not have been smoking anyway.)
I did spend Father’s Day with my dad, and Grandpa–and talked to The Husband and FFiL –I hope all of the other Daddies out there had a great day.
Tomorrow we are going to Hersey Park, and then Wednesday we are flying home. Pennsylvania has been pretty nice, I was disappointed not to see the Schrute Beet Farm.
Filed under Family-blame the DNA, The Husband | Comment (1)Hupdates and the Hardcore Pretender in a barely coherent written at 1AM in a hotel room post.
Guess who figured out the WiFi at the Hotel!? ME! This is going to be quick because I have to finish packing for the second leg of our trip. So far my impressions of up state New York? These Yankees are NICE y’all! Like really, really, nice and so accommodating. Also? THE FOOD IS FREAKING AMAZING. Yes, southerns can cook, but it is pretty much all in the same genre. But here? Not only are the people incredibly diverse, but so is the food. Greek gyros and spiedies, Italian vodka chicken, Sicilian “Hot Pies” (which are just awesome pizza) and yeah. I am STUFFED.
No drama from traveling with everyone yet…but we are in a separate building. And car. And I never let The Son sit next to my Grandpa. So basically they are hardly aware the other one is even on the trip.
The Son has been very two this week, obstinate is hardly even the word. He has been pretending about everything for ages now. He is never just The Son, he is in character, and he demands that everyone else play along at all times. We had a connecting flight in Detroit and while sitting in the terminal an elderly gentleman approached The Son and started to talk to him.
Old guy: “How old are you young man?”
Son: “I TWO!”
Old guy: “Two? I have a granddaughter just your age. What is your name?”
Son: “Lightning McQueen.”
Me: “Your name is not Lightning McQueen. What is your name?”
Son: “Dumbo! And you are Dumbo’s mama!”
Old guy: “Dumbo?”
Me: “He is just pretending, what is your name?”
Son: “Bob! And this is Wendy!”
Old guy: “Nice to meet you Bob.”
Me: *Sigh.*
He loves to pretend. Have I mentioned it is after one AM? And that I am supposed to be packing up for the rest of our trip? What was I talking about? Oh yes pretending. Right. He has been pretending he is a dog off and on for a year and a half. Sometimes he is a little more dramatic then others.
This is where Ellie has to sleep. This is a whole other post. A long one. Time for packing up Lightning-Dumbo-Bob’s toys.
Filed under Family-blame the DNA | Comment (1)A close runner up
Clean off my camera week concludes with the second cutest face on the block. Although I am sure his Mama would disagree.
Tomorrow The Son, my parents, my grandparents, and I will be leaving for New York; leaving The Husband here alone. Take good care of him if you see him, remind him to eat his veggies and wear his mask and water my plants. I am bringing my laptop and there is supposedly WiFi, so I will update on Thursday hopefully. If you happen to be outside tomorrow and hear screaming coming from the sky, don’t worry–it just means the flight with my almost three year old and eighty something year old grandpa is not going so well. If it is followed by a big boom, it is just my head exploding from the horrible stares of our flight companions. If that were to happen– Ang gets the books, Cat gets the clothes, and Shoeshe gets the shoes.
Filed under Friends-All three of them, Photography | Comments (3)Five things you never knew about JHJ.
Clean off my camera week is still going since I missed a couple of days. Tonight’s subject is JHJ. A month or so ago I talked him into a little impromptu photo session, and I never got to show you dear Internet! There are MANY MANY things nobody knows about JHJ, myself included. UNLIKE me, who is an open book, and could not keep a secret if my life depended on it, JHJ likes his privacy–but I do know some interesting things.
1. JHJ used to have a really cute perfectly round mole on his right cheek, close to his chin. A mean kid teased him about it, and my parents let him have it removed when he was seven or eight. When people asked where he got the scar, he used to tell them he was in a car wreck. I wonder if he now regrets having his sweet little beauty mark removed?
2. He has always been really shy. He acts like he just gets easily annoyed by people (which is true) but he is mostly just uncomfortable talking to new people. Except on the phone. He (and me too!) has MAD phone skills.
3. He is great with children, and while I doubt he ever will be one, I think he would be an AWESOME teacher–unless he had to deal with their parents.
4. He used to color code the lighters when he worked at the store owned by CAT‘’s family. She would mess them all up just so he would have something to do while he was working. He did not appreciate this gesture.
5. He is afraid of the Aliens on Sesame Street that say “yup yup yup yup.”
6. He is probably really not pleased I used him as a blog post, but I think he is cute and like pictures of him, and it is my blog and I am still his bossy older sister and I can do what I want. So there.
