Dana the Dalmatian

This is one of my family memories that I wish I could forget...

It's breaking my heart to watch my dog Dana in pain. She's got a leg that's wired together from being run over. By me. Now, this happened ten years ago, but I still feel bad about it.

About three weeks ago she started losing strength in her leg. I took her to the vet and they did x-rays. They determined that two of the wires have broken and are poking into her muscle. They put her on an anti-imflammatory and pain medicine. She's been on those almost two weeks.

She seems to do better, and then something happens to re-injure it...the other dog knocks her over, she falls going up or down the two steps to the bedrooms, etc. When she falls, it's a real struggle to get back up.

Surgery is a last resort because it would be very complicated and would cause her a lot of pain.

The dog lovers who are reading this know how I feel. Please pray that the Lord would heal her!

Be careful what you say.

This dog is really very smart.

Except for the day I ran her over. She kept trying to follow the van. I kept sending her back to the front door, where dd was trying to get her in the house. I was late getting ds to swim lessons. This happened three or four times. Then, in my frustration, I said, "Oh! I'll just HIT HER!!!"

And then I did. Not on purpose, of course. She followed us off the property and up the hill. I tried to outrun her. I couldn't see where she was. And then it happened. She ran back to the house and I figured she was okay. Then dd called me and told me to come home.

I.feel.so.guilty.

Characters in my Prints, Patties, & No Satellite post

"General" - the accused - he's 30 years old!

These are the two youngsters that I mentioned...and this is last year before they got fatter!

Prints, Patties, and No Satellite

You may have heard that the state flower of West Virginia is the satellite dish.

We've all got 'em. We use them for television, for the Internet, and probably other things of which I am not aware.

This morning when I got up, I discovered that a large mammal had stomped one of my square foot gardens. The grid is broken and there's a very large indentation in the special soil mix for which took us a month to find the ingredients. My large planter of Dusty Miller was also knocked over.

My first thought was, "Oh, no! A bear!" My mother hen instincts went into high gear and I warned Kevin not to let the injured dog out by herself. After all, the sun was not yet up and who knew what might still be lurking? Yes, we really do have bears in our neighborhood.

Of course, Mr. Reasonable claims that it was the horse. You see, we have this really aged horse named General. He has a special recipe of feed and alfalfa cubes which are soaked until the consistency of mush. The poor fella has no molars to chew with any more. To prevent the younger horses from stealing we put Grandpa General in the yard to eat in peace.

So he got blamed by Kevin. I still had my doubts. General is not a galumph.

On my way to get hay for the youngsters, I notice suspicious piles of poo in the yard. I must admit that I like horse manure much better than cow manure. It smells better and doesn't liquefy into flat patties. The bovine variety also is much more plentiful.

Upon further inspection of my garden and the surrounding area, I discovered cloven hoof prints. Ah ha!

It was exceedingly more obvious when the sun rose fully. Visitors! About a dozen bovines were in my meadow, which is on the other side of the driveway. One was heading to the yard, so I shooed it away. Of course, a stampede ensued and they all headed for the road. Yay! I knew they were not in danger, for West Virginians are careful on country roads. You never know what you will encounter!

Okay. Mystery and problem solved.

Well...almost.

Remembering that my DVD recorder got upset yesterday, I went to check on the disc to see why it wouldn't record. I turned the TV on.

Uh-oh. It lost the signal. "Well', I thought,"the weather is cloudy. It'll find the signal soon enough." So I left it alone for awhile.

Nope. Not the weather. I check the system menu to diagnose the problem. Zero signal!

Then it occurred to me. The cows! One of the less-than-intelligent creatures knocked my dish!

My husband says, "They're stupid animals. That's why we eat them."

Do I want to be imitated?

My current Bible study of the book of Philippians has led me to do some soul searching.

In Philippians 3:17, Paul instructs them to follow his example: "Brethren, join in following my example, and observe those who walk according to the pattern you have in us. " 1 Corinthians 4:16 echoes the command. 1 Corinthians 11:1 elaborates: "Be imitators of me, just as I also am of Christ."

The believers at Thessalonica seemed to have a handle on this. They were already imitating Paul, Silvanus, and Tmothy (1 Thess:6-7), who imitated Christ. In turn, they became an example to the believers in Macedonia and in Achaia.

This leads me to the thought: "Do I want to be imitated? Am I imitating Christ?"

Our very own country road

We were in West Virginia a number of days before we realized that we could not buy a house. Being unemployed for nearly a year does bad things to your finances. So we switched to the "For Rent" sections of the classifieds. Hoo, boy. Wendy's in Fairmont will always remind me of those days. We would sit for long periods of time, perusing ads and making phone calls.

We saw house after house, none of which would fit us and our five critters: three equines and two canines. We saw what an impossible situation we seemed to be in, for if we couldn't find a property with acreage to rent, we would be paying beaucoup bucks to board our horses.

Meanwhile, our already strapped finances were being strained even further by staying in a motel. We contacted a friend of Kevin's family and he very graciously housed us. Oh, the stories Pat told! He and his family live in the country west of Morgantown. It was our first exposure to a real live hunter. Even his 9 year-old daughter snagged a deer that year! Their living room was adorned with a buck's head, from which hung several handmade star cutouts, apparently leftover from the Christmas season. The deer's name? Starbucks!

Our guest room was actually his reloading room. Shelves went to the ceiling, filled with various types of ammunition. I found myself shuddering somewhat as I tried to fall asleep.

I still wasn't too sure about this new state in which we were to live!

But back to Wendy's.

It suddenly occurred to me to call one of the realtors with whom we had contact before our arrival in WV. It was a long shot, but we asked if she knew of any rental properties that were available.

We couldn't believe it when she said, "As a matter of fact, a client just called me this morning and asked me to put his house up for rental. It's in the country on 23 acres."

And here we are. Our very own country road. Well, sort of. After all, we're renting.

First memory of West Virginia

West Virginia is that little foreign country next to Virginia. It is not part of Virginia. I do not live in western Virgina, as my 94-year-old mother still believes after almost five years.

Just like the state motto says, West Virginia is "Wild and Wonderful". It is truly a well-kept secret. The people here are wonderful. Where else do drivers pause in traffic to let you out? I just wish the deer had the same courtesy!

I didn't always feel this way about my state.

So how did I end up here? My husband Kevin was hired as a computer contractor with a three letter government agency. It was a huge relief for him to have a job after being unemployed for nearly a year. He had his resume out on several Internet job sites, hoping for a position in Colorado, Florida, or Virginia, where we have family.

So, for the second time in our lives, a recruiter called and said, "Now, I know you wanted to relocate to these other states, but would you consider West Virginia?"

Where??!

But here we are. Now on to my first memory.

Kevin, Daniel (then aged 12), and I drove from Peculiar, MO to hunt for a house to buy. We drove from one country road to another, searching for a property where we would have room for our horses.

And now I arrive at my first memory. We had looked at a house that was decorated with me in mind. It was out in the country and had no objectionable properties nearby. The realtor told us there was a nice flat area where we could create pasture....."right over that hill". I envisioned myself bent at a 45 degree angle in the winter, trying to make it up that snowy hill!

It was mid-spring, and the home owner had the same philosophy about raking leaves that I do: "Let the wind do it!" So off we go, crunching our way over the leaves, until - whoosh!! I land calf-deep in an intermittent stream - puddle?- hole? I pulled my leg out and the stench reached my nose.

You see, the trouble with coal mining, for which most folks know WV, is that it creates sulfur. You know, the rotten egg of nature's minerals. My leg was now coated with rusty looking mud. I stood there and cried, literally cried, and called out to God: "Why?! Why are you bringing us here?!"

We would soon find out.