Ryan and the Dogs

Now that this story has a happy ending I can tell it.  This is a story full of adventure, heroism, sacrifice and more than a little dog poo.

On a dark and stormy night a few weeks ago my son, Ryan, let himself into his apartment in Huntsville.  As he opened the door two puppies rushed in ahead of him and made themselves quite at home.  He felt that his only option, other than letting them stay, was to push them out again into the bad weather.  He did as we had raised him to do....he let them stay.

Now, you may have caught the "his apartment" part.  Yes, he lives in an apartment that is completely  unsuitable for a dog....much less 2 dogs....and puppies at that.  Ryan quickly began looking for their current home or their next home.  He knew he couldn't keep them and neither could (or would) we.  He called Animal Control in Huntsville to see if they had been reported as lost, he contacted three area veterinarians to see if they knew anything about them.  He even took the dogs in to a vet to see if they had locater chips (they did not).  He bathed them, bought them flea collars, bought food and collars and leashes.  In other words, he took care of them, all the while trying to figure out what to do with them.

It's harder than one might think.  Ryan was committed to seeing them to a no-kill shelter and those are not easy to find.  Most places seem to be a kind of doggie foster home system.  People sign up to keep the dogs in their own homes until they are adopted.  It was hard to even get someone to answer the phone in most of those places.  On a weekend that he was coming to Houston Ryan brought them home.  They stayed in our backyard which meant Floyd, our very territorial dog, stayed in the laundry room which meant Pepper, our very evil cat, had her litter box moved to my bathroom.  You can imagine the ripple effect.  Ryan took the dogs to our vet to be checked out (our nice vet offers three free stray checks a year) and found out they had worms.  This required medicine during their stay and yard treatment after they left.  More ripples.

Finally, a little research into the Houston SPCA revealed that they are a no-kill shelter unless the dog is sick or dangerous.  It took until Thursday to get an appointment with them so we lived with the dogs worming up our back yard, walking Floyd several times a day, and stepping on kittie litter in our bathroom until then.  Ryan came home early the next weekend and took them in.  We hope that they are adopted.  They really were sweet puppy dogs.

So, what's the lesson?   We learned several.  One, watch your door on rainy nights lest something slip in you don't want to deal with.  Two, Bob Barker was right....we should spay and neuter our pets.  Three, you can't be irritated at your thoughtful and sweet child saving a couple of troublesome animals when you have raised him to do that very thing. 

We raised our kids to value others and value life in general.  We were more apt to throw a bug out of the house rather than kill.  We wanted our kids to be good citizens of the planet and be mindful of creatures in need.  At the end of the deal - Floyd back in a de-wormed yard, kittie litter back in the laundry room, and puppies to the SPCA - we were incredibly proud of Ryan.  His generous heart and sensitive spirit are of great value.  He's a good person and I'm happy he did what he did.  Oftentimes the best thing to do is a hard thing to do and Ryan did the hard thing with grace and equanimity.

Another view on "The Art of Marriage"

If you spend much time on Pinterest you will have seen the following.  It is attributed to Paul Newman.  The Pinterest pin says that it's a letter he wrote his bride, Joanne Woodward, on their wedding day.  That is actually incorrect.  It's a poem written by Wilferd A. Peterson and read at the Newman/Woodward wedding.  They were married for 50 years when Newman died so they must have taken the advice to heart. 

After 35 years of marriage I can tell you that these points are all worthy of consideration.  A good marriage doesn't just happen.....it happens because two people work hard toward that goal.  Let me assure those of you in the early years that all that work is totally worth it......no lie, totally worth it!

  "The Art Of Marriage" by Wilferd A. Peterson
Happiness in marriage is not something that just happens.
A good marriage must be created.
In the art of marriage the little things are the big things...

It is never being too old to hold hands.
It is remembering to say "I love you" at least once a day.
It is never going to sleep angry. It is at no time taking the other for granted;
the courtship should not end with the honeymoon,
it should continue through all the years.   It is having a mutual sense of values and common objectives.
It is standing together facing the world.
It is forming a circle of love that gathers in the whole family. It is doing things for each other, not in the attitude
of duty or sacrifice, but in the spirit of joy.
It is speaking words of appreciation
and demonstrating gratitude in thoughtful ways.
It is not looking for perfection in each other.
It is cultivating flexibility, patience,
understanding and a sense of humour.
It is having the capacity to forgive and forget.
It is giving each other an atmosphere in which each can grow. It is finding room for the things of the spirit.
It is a common search for the good and the beautiful.
It is establishing a relationship in which the independence is equal,
dependence is mutual and the obligation is reciprocal.
It is not only marrying the right partner, it is being the right partner.
It is discovering what marriage can be, at its best.
 

My Shameful Confession

I'm going to confess a shameful secret here.  Don't judge me.  Please.  I have to give a little background first so maybe you won't be so harsh in your judgement (because you will judge, that is the way of people everywhere).

I began to try to get pregnant in the Spring of 1980.  My mom had no problem so I assumed I would have no problem.....that was a false assumption.  Five years of tests, pills, surgeries, and sex every other night (whether you were in the mood or not) followed until we finally got pregnant.  I became pregnant in May of 1985 and Adam was born in February of 1986.  I won't bore you with the gritty details of what followed but I will say that I had three more babies by October of 1991.  When Leah was born, Adam was 5 years and 8 months, Ryan was 3 years and 8 months, Taylor was 2 years and 5 months.  In the middle of all of that I had 2 miscarriages and I nursed all of them (Leah for 13 months as she wouldn't put anything synthetic in her mouth....she has always been my pickiest eater)
It should be sufficient to say that these were exhausting years that stretched me to the utter limits of my patience, strength, and perseverance.  As my children grew I developed a rich and wondrous fantasy life.....thus my shameful secret.

I used to drive past apartment complexes and wish I lived there.  Alone.  Just me.  In a little tiny apartment.  Maybe a table to eat at with a few dishes for cooking.  I'd only have to buy quarts of milk instead of a gallon a day.  A loaf of bread would last me a month.  I could watch whatever I wanted on TV and, even better, I could go to the bathroom in peace.  No one would need me to wipe their bottom, blow their nose, clean up their messes, or mediate their fights.  No one would expect me to know where the Blue Power Ranger was or use my tampons as weapons of mass destruction in their war games with their brothers.  There would be no peeing on the floor around the toilet or unending loads of laundry.  There would only be me....my stuff....what I want.

Now, you may be thinking my next sentences are going to be about the wonders of sweet children who you love and who love you so much....precious hugs and butterfly kisses.....the wonder of sleeping angels and belly laughing munchkins.  You would be wrong.

Here is what I want to say.....hang in there.  This too shall pass.  Time will march on and the days when you are their sole source of entertainment, discipline and caretaking will pass.  They will grow up.  If you have done your job well they will be independent and productive people.  They will leave you and this is a bittersweet thing.  Sweet because you will get your life back.....bitter because you will remember those days when they needed you so much and be very, very glad you didn't actually have that little apartment. 

It's tough when you are in the trenches raising children.  Remember that this will pass, you are not alone, and apartment rent is much higher than you think.