Friday, July 25, 2008
The Last Chewy Report: July 24 2008
It was still cool enough for a jacket this morning when Maggie and I headed toward the vineyard in silence. I carried a shovel in one hand and a small Bible in the other. Maggie, of course, had Softie in hand. We didn’t look at the small box draped in a God Bless America blanket sitting on Grandma’s front porch. We knew what we had to do and we had already begun saying good-bye late into the night as we vacillated between sweet remembrance and questioning, “why God, why.”
I know for sure that had we been told in December that the tawny brown little Puggle from North Wilksboro would only be with us for six months we would have loved her with no less depth and whole heartedness. Despite her local origins, for some reason we quickly abandoned her dignified name – Charlotte- for the nickname Chewy and gave her the persona of a recent Mexican immigrant. During regular “Chewy Reports” just before bed, she would recount the highs and lows of her day. The report would always be laced with references to her “mother land” and the abundance of tacos she enjoyed as a very small child before being torn away by smugglers and brought to America.
While like us all, Chewy carried fond images in her heart of another time and place, she was also very aware of how good she had it here on the farm. Her days were a dog’s dream. She played just as rough as she wanted with her older, benevolent brother Hudson the Shepherd mix. Her original intent on doing harm to her sister Sally the white, long-haired cat, quickly changed to a playful camaraderie and a fondness of including tales of “biting kitty cat butt” in her evening reports. Her other brother Meshak the Siamese mix regarded her with curious caution but she never went a day without showing him the same playful love and affection she showed the others. She slept each night in a comfortable bed, often at the feet of her most beloved “Madre” Maggie. She enjoyed high quality canned food and hand outs directly from each plate we ate from yet reserved her dog’s right to eat whatever gross thing she encountered around the farm. She spent many mornings playing in the vineyard while her “Grande, Grande Madre” Ruth worked and afternoons in her Grande Madre Carla’s office chair.
So often the lives and especially deaths of our most beloved pets reflect back to us as humans how to live. I want to live like Chewy. I want to run and kid around and be mischievous, act silly with wild abandon wearing myself out each day sucking the marrow out of life, and maybe even a succulent bone here and there. I want to curl up each night and appreciate the ones I love and those who love me and all the comforts that surround me. And maybe we would all be served well by a touch of the immigrants mind set: long for home, but enjoy each day right where you are.
The last Chewy report is short and sweet:
“I awoke with my Madre Maggie. I went outside to do my business, greet my brother Hudson and enjoy my breakfast. I ran and played all day without restrictions. I watched “Grande Madre” Ruth care for the vineyard. I went for a walk with my “Grande Madre” Carla. I hung out in the afternoon with my loving “Madre” Maggie and watched Sponge Bob. Then in the evening I went home to be with my maker and all my relations that have gone before me. It was a good day.”
Charlotte
Most loved dog
May you always run free
September 27, 2007 - July 24, 2008
I know for sure that had we been told in December that the tawny brown little Puggle from North Wilksboro would only be with us for six months we would have loved her with no less depth and whole heartedness. Despite her local origins, for some reason we quickly abandoned her dignified name – Charlotte- for the nickname Chewy and gave her the persona of a recent Mexican immigrant. During regular “Chewy Reports” just before bed, she would recount the highs and lows of her day. The report would always be laced with references to her “mother land” and the abundance of tacos she enjoyed as a very small child before being torn away by smugglers and brought to America.
While like us all, Chewy carried fond images in her heart of another time and place, she was also very aware of how good she had it here on the farm. Her days were a dog’s dream. She played just as rough as she wanted with her older, benevolent brother Hudson the Shepherd mix. Her original intent on doing harm to her sister Sally the white, long-haired cat, quickly changed to a playful camaraderie and a fondness of including tales of “biting kitty cat butt” in her evening reports. Her other brother Meshak the Siamese mix regarded her with curious caution but she never went a day without showing him the same playful love and affection she showed the others. She slept each night in a comfortable bed, often at the feet of her most beloved “Madre” Maggie. She enjoyed high quality canned food and hand outs directly from each plate we ate from yet reserved her dog’s right to eat whatever gross thing she encountered around the farm. She spent many mornings playing in the vineyard while her “Grande, Grande Madre” Ruth worked and afternoons in her Grande Madre Carla’s office chair.
So often the lives and especially deaths of our most beloved pets reflect back to us as humans how to live. I want to live like Chewy. I want to run and kid around and be mischievous, act silly with wild abandon wearing myself out each day sucking the marrow out of life, and maybe even a succulent bone here and there. I want to curl up each night and appreciate the ones I love and those who love me and all the comforts that surround me. And maybe we would all be served well by a touch of the immigrants mind set: long for home, but enjoy each day right where you are.
The last Chewy report is short and sweet:
“I awoke with my Madre Maggie. I went outside to do my business, greet my brother Hudson and enjoy my breakfast. I ran and played all day without restrictions. I watched “Grande Madre” Ruth care for the vineyard. I went for a walk with my “Grande Madre” Carla. I hung out in the afternoon with my loving “Madre” Maggie and watched Sponge Bob. Then in the evening I went home to be with my maker and all my relations that have gone before me. It was a good day.”
Charlotte
Most loved dog
May you always run free
September 27, 2007 - July 24, 2008
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
My 7 year old daughter Maggie and I were cruising around Target not too long ago. We had indulged in a “Starbucks” so both of us were caffeine buzzed and acting goofy. Maggie in particular was getting more and more wound up running up and down isles, grabbing at things, making weird noises and it was starting to stress me out because I did have a list to fulfill. I never go into a store without some mental or actual list of things needed. Finally, I started calling her out, “Maggie, calm down you are getting on my nerves.” I made such a comment several times before she responded in a loud voice that stopped me and several other shoppers in or tracks. The results were mixed. A twenty-something guy looked back over his shoulder and gave Maggie a dirty look. A woman with two kids in her cart laughed out loud.
“I’ve been such a bad girl, I could grow up to be a man,” Maggie said. I don’t know if it was the getting on my nerves part or the running wild or being called down or some combination of all that led her to connect a failure to correct the behavior to an eventual gender change. What would make a little boy say, “I’ve been such a bad boy, I could grow up to be a woman.” Maybe he would say “I’ve been such a good boy……”
What lingered with me beyond the humor, is how our notions of and responses to good and bad labels develop. People can easily get stuck with wrong notions about the consequences of behavior and a sense that they are “bad” and being punished. If we are able to grow and mature, we transcend the child-like notion that consequences are arbitrary, unfair, and even disconnected from our behavior. We come to recognize that it is about choices, responsibility. Through the repetition of life and experience we see principles at work like the law of sowing and reaping, gravity, etc. Once we “grow-up”, it is understood that consequences are generally predictable and directly correlated to our actions. As Stephen Covey says, “I am what I am today because of the choices I made yesterday.”
There are without a doubt cases of bad things happening to good people, but in general if you are taking notes as your life unfolds it becomes at least noticeable that our choices lead to a good life or a bad life. For example, most would correlate a good life with good health. Bad health almost always equates to bad life. It’s not 100%, but a good chance that if I exercise and eat right, manage stress, get enough sleep etc.; I’ll be in fairly good health. The point is that bad girls don’t grow up to be men or vice versa but that girls and boys who figure out that life is guided by universal principles that are not secret and it is their own choices not an arbitrary, external force that determines their outcome are the winners. They are the leaders and the entrepreneurs and the ones that will shine light into the unknown future.
Deuteronomy 30:15 “See, I set before you today life and prosperity or death and destruction.
“I’ve been such a bad girl, I could grow up to be a man,” Maggie said. I don’t know if it was the getting on my nerves part or the running wild or being called down or some combination of all that led her to connect a failure to correct the behavior to an eventual gender change. What would make a little boy say, “I’ve been such a bad boy, I could grow up to be a woman.” Maybe he would say “I’ve been such a good boy……”
What lingered with me beyond the humor, is how our notions of and responses to good and bad labels develop. People can easily get stuck with wrong notions about the consequences of behavior and a sense that they are “bad” and being punished. If we are able to grow and mature, we transcend the child-like notion that consequences are arbitrary, unfair, and even disconnected from our behavior. We come to recognize that it is about choices, responsibility. Through the repetition of life and experience we see principles at work like the law of sowing and reaping, gravity, etc. Once we “grow-up”, it is understood that consequences are generally predictable and directly correlated to our actions. As Stephen Covey says, “I am what I am today because of the choices I made yesterday.”
There are without a doubt cases of bad things happening to good people, but in general if you are taking notes as your life unfolds it becomes at least noticeable that our choices lead to a good life or a bad life. For example, most would correlate a good life with good health. Bad health almost always equates to bad life. It’s not 100%, but a good chance that if I exercise and eat right, manage stress, get enough sleep etc.; I’ll be in fairly good health. The point is that bad girls don’t grow up to be men or vice versa but that girls and boys who figure out that life is guided by universal principles that are not secret and it is their own choices not an arbitrary, external force that determines their outcome are the winners. They are the leaders and the entrepreneurs and the ones that will shine light into the unknown future.
Deuteronomy 30:15 “See, I set before you today life and prosperity or death and destruction.
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