Patches wild weekend

We recently lost our 16 year old Dalmatian Patches.  Before you get too upset, I must clarify.  He didn't die, we lost him.  This was a very odd thing to happen considering, he is very old and quite decrepit and he generally stays pretty close to come, simply because he can't walk very far.  One beautiful Saturday a couple of weeks ago, he disappeared.  Michael went for a run and apparently Patch followed.  We usually don't take him running anymore because it is too hard on him.  He can't keep up.  Michael didn't realize this because he has just started running and hasn't learned all of the tricks like putting the dogs in the kennel before you leave etc.  Anyway, Michael got ahead of the dog.  He turned around to make sure he was coming after he turned a corner and the old guy was gone.  He turned around to find him and there was no Patch.  We didn't worry too much about it, we figured he had just taken a detour into someone pasture like he often does.  When he didn't show up, we went looking, no dog.  We looked and looked.  Finally Sunday afternoon, we were thinking the worst.  The run must have been too much for him he had crawled away and died. We were sad, we had had this dog for years, and were upset that he would just be dead somewhere and we were not able to even say goodbye.  We notified Karlee that her dog was most likely dead.  She posted it on her facebook,  this lead to the phone call. 

"Hello,  I think my sister took your dog to the pound"  she said.

What!    

"Yes, she found him on East Lane and he was walking funny, so she took him home,  he didn't get along with her other dogs so she took him to the shelter"

Well, he walked funny because he is 16 years old. 

It was Sunday afternoon so nothing could be done until Monday at noon, when the pound opened.  Monday morning, we got the call from the pound,  "We have your dalmatian Patches here, you can pick him up after noon."

We headed to the pound and were there awaiting anxiously to get this poor old dog. We were met by an animal control officer and the whole story of Patches wild weekend unfolded.

I was told that because they had picked the dog up, it would cost us $60 on top of the $46 we had to pay the shelter for 'boarding' our dog for two days.  (you see it was over the weekend, so it was two days).

"We live in the county, I told her there is no leash law in the county."

she shook her head, "I am sorry, he was picked up on Dow and Lewis street,  I am going to have to issue a citation for dog at large"

suddenly the pieces all fell into place.  " He was dognapped" I informed her.  My son had gone for a jog and a 'lady' who used to live in the neighborhood had been visiting her parents, she was headed back into town when she passed Michael who was jogging home, and turned the corner and ran across a dog that was so abused and mistreated that he was WALKING FUNNY!! She snatched him up, less that 200 yards from his own home, and just around the corned from my son.  She took him home.  My guess is, she got him home and realized that instead of rescuing an abused animal, she had stolen someone's very old dog.  Her solution was to call the animal control officers and tell them she had found a stray, she didn't mention that she had picked the dog up in the county and actually transported him into town and the reported him as a stray.  So instead of poor old Patches being able to waddle home, and sleep in his own comfy bed with the family who had cared him years, he was forced to go to the pound and sleep on concrete for two nights, wondering what he had done wrong. 

At first the animal control officer didn't believe me, "I am sorry" she said,  it said here he was picked up in town. "  Just then, they brought Patches out.  He came out shuffling like the old man that he is.  She took one look and realized that this dog, did not walk the six plus miles into town, she checked with the shelter to make sure that we did actually live in the county and that unless she was willing to pursue dognapping charges, it was all over. 

She let us off with just a 'warning'  I guess we have learned our lesson,  Never turn the corner while running with an old dog unless he is right by your side. 

I feel sorry for the silly lady who picked him up,  I guess I worry about people who keep their nose snuggled up into other peoples business.  I am sure that on the surface, she thought she was an animal hero,  the sad thing is, if we just assumed that he had just crawled off somewhere and died, and Karlee had not posted it on facebook, he would have probably been eternized, far away from those who love him, never knowing what he had done wrong. 

Thank goodness for busy bodies.

'Had a Bad Day'

Have you ever had one of those days?  Wrong side of the bed and all of that twattle.  The other day, my third grader came home bummed out.  She announced as she got in the car at the bus stop  "I had a bad day".  When I asked her about it,  she related to me how the little girl who has dogged her throughout the year, had been picking on her again.  Unfortunately,  my daughter does not have the temperament to put up with this, and usually gets in trouble for the comeback to the insults that are usually whispered to her, while the little instigator, who has the appearance of an angel, gets off scotch free.  She is the 'nice girl, my daughter is a very exuberant  girl who is not known for her mild temperament. Anyway, to make a long story less long,  short of getting into fisticuffs and taking this girl out, my daughter just has to put up with it. 

On this particular day, it had been especially bad.  I took her home and doted on her, gave her hugs, cookies and the usual mom stuff.  I then settled her down and played the bad day song for her.  You know the one by "Bad Day" by Dan Powter, that says " you had a bad day your taking one down , you sing a sad song just to turn it around..." She stood there leaning against me until the song was over, dried her eyes, said thanks and was off. 

Fast forward until this morning.  My husband and I were preparing ourselves to go to my eighteen year olds seminary graduation this evening.  I got a phone call from a woman who was in charge of the musical production that by boys are involved in this summer.  There was going to be a practice this evening.  I informed her that they would not be able to participate because of seminary graduation.  This is when I got the horrifying news that seminary graduation was actually last night.  We had missed it.  I was devastated, how could we have done something so stupid.  Tears ensued.  I was in my room crying and feeling terrible about the whole situation when I heard from my third graders room the high peals of the Chipmunks singing  "You had a bad day your taking one down, you sing a sad song just to turn it around"...  My sweet little girl was playing the bad day song for me.  I turned and saw her slipping into my room to check on me.  With a big hug and a few kisses, by daughter had put a smile back on my face. 

My sons situation turned out less than terrible also.  The wonderful counselor who had the night before, driven all the way to Gillette to present him with his diploma, handed it to him in sacrament meeting in front of the whole ward.  Just another tender mercy.  My bad day, turned out not so bad after all. 

Burned Out!

So when is enough, enough.  How much is good, well, I say school wise we hit that mark about eight days ago.  I remember when I was a kid the last few weeks of school were pretty much throw away's.  These days were packed with field trips, May Day activities and pretty much parties.  They probably had the highest attendance during the last few weeks of school than the rest of the year.  Who wants to miss the fun.  I think they knew we were wasted, the staff was wasted too, both literally and figuratively. 

My how times have changed.  Suddenly everyone is in crisis.  Our kids are failing and falling further and further behind.  According to whom, I don't know.  I do know that the math they are cramming down kids throats in sixth grade, I didn't hit until high school.  Come on! this is the information age!  Schools are no longer allowed to waste the last few weeks of school.  Every second is planned and significant.  No Second Left Behind.  Parties,  phew!  None of that.  No longer is it fun to be in school the last week of the year, it is not even fun to be in a school for any reason at this time of year.  I have spent the better part of the last six weeks testing junior high kids brains out.  If there is any information left in there, we will soon have it sucked out.  What a drag.  Thank goodness I was educated when the value of a completely useless, no point, wasted day was acceptable.  Not just acceptable,  Expected!  Hang in there kids,  eleven days to go.

Dodge ball!!

You haven't truly lived until you have experienced the sheer chaos and animal abandon that goes on during a game of sixth grade dodge ball.  I am sure you have all played dodge ball before.  You remember it, where there was a hard red rubber ball and the huge boys in the school would troll along line dividing the gym floor, and the teams in two.  They were waiting for a chance to nail you with that stinking ball with all the force they could muster.  I can still remember what it felt like to be hit by that red ball.  I remember the sound as it smacked against my bare skin with the force of a Mack truck.  I remember the checkerboard welt that it left.  Talk about PTSD!

Dodge ball now, is nothing like that.  They have gotten rid of the hard red rubber ball.  They now use purple foam balls.  Great! you may say, they have come to their senses.  Well, they don't just use one ball anymore,  they use thirty.  This new dodge ball cannot be effectively played with any less than forty students.  Forty students and thirty purple balls.  The rules are, if you are hit, you are out, unless you catch it.  Another change is, you are allowed to go to the 'yellow' line.  This line extends about ten feet in the opposing teams territory.  As the students get out, they line up on either side of the teacher until someone makes a basket on the opposing side, then their team all returns to the floor.  If the teacher yells jail break, they all go in. 

It is sheer chaos.  Purple missiles fly back and forth across the room, looking like a purple sideways snow storm, or hail storm would be more like it. The noise level is deafening.  This is actually an advantage though, because it drowns out the voices of the three or four students who are inevitably standing around the teacher,  plying for a Solomon decision about a horrible injustice that has just happened to them and they are 'not really out'.  I just shake by head cup my ear, and mouth  "I can't hear you".  With a sad shrug, I then yell..."Jailbreak".  Problem solved.

After a long day of watching dangerous, deafening, chaotic 6th grade dodge ball, I have come to one conclusion, I am getting old.

Up and running again...I think..

Well the happy day has come and gone.  Karlee and Alex have ridden off into the sunset (or down just off of Main Street anyway).  I couldn't be happier for them.  It is interesting how sometimes all that it takes to make you happy, is for your kids to be happy.  I miss my girls terribly,  I find myself reminiscing about the time when they were still small and underfoot.  I think of them sharing a bedroom with their pink bunkbeds with  horses stenciled on the sides.  I remember how absolutely trashed their room used to get and the hours it would take to dig it out.  I remember them playing all kinds of fantasy games with tails and veils and whatever it took.  All of their cats and dogs and birds and rabbits and lizards etc etc etc.  I find that I can actually get a wee bit sad if I dwell on it too long.  I then realize that if it wasn't for me taking wing and leaving the nest like my girls have done that I wouldn't have any of those experiences.  I wouldn't have the wonderful kids that I have now.    

 

I  remember talking to my mother shortly after I had married and my husband  I had  moved away.  My sister had also just left home to serve a mission in France.  It was the holiday season and she was missing her girls.  I can relate  to her and how she  better now  than I ever could before .  Sometimes you can miss your kids so bad it brings tears to your eyes, but not for long.  I find that the melancholy is soon replaced with joy.  The joy that they have made good choices in their live, that they are happy and content. The joy that someday, they will know of the overwhelming love that a mother has for her children.  I find that the tears are always quickly replace by a smile.  This is how it should be. I am happy.

Mother of the Brides

It started innocently enough.  Just a lady wanting to have a kid or two or six...  They were such beautiful girls, they would never grow up, I made them promise.  Liars!  We tried to hide them,  keep them ugly, turn them mean.  No luck, those boys were more vigilant than expected.  Of course it didn't help that my girls wanted to be found.  Kristine started the whole thing.  Karlee was waiting for a missionary, but he was never coming back, it was for two whole years, and the guy that was chasing Kristine around lived four hours away from her. 

"mom, I have some news, were love and want to get married." 

It hit me like a thunder bolt,  my kids were actually going to get married!

"We want to wait six months though, probably October"

October!,  Karlee's missionary was coming home in October, and they were still writing.  This could be bad.  Two wedding in six months,  they would never do that to me.  Would they? 

Yes they would.  Kristine had a beautiful wedding, great day, good party, frazzled mother.  Karlee showed up with her Alex, home

for less than a week,  in love and plotting. Needless to say,  I am in the throws of another wedding,  Just call me wedding planner extraordinaire.  I have another wedding in two weeks and I couldn't be happier.  I think I  may actually pull this off.  I have had more sewing, cross stitching, wedding cakes, mints, flowers, centerpieces, tulle, lights, table clothes, bridesmaids dresses, invitations, pictures, etc.  than I ever thought possible, but I wouldn't have it any other way.  My girls are happy, they found great guys are starting their own families.  I guess that is what the goal was all along.  I guess my husband and I were able to teach them to use their wings after all.  So bring it on Mindy,  I think we can handle anything, just give me six months O.K. 

Indoor Recess

I have spent the last two weeks subbing in elementary schools.  This is a little out of my element, I am usually at the Jr. high or high school.  Part of the reason I took the jobs at the elementary school was because it is was orchestra and fifth grade (not too bad, and I am smarter than a fifth grader, especially with the answer books) and my daughters class.  She is in third grade and her teacher had to leave town for medical treatment.  I can't even imagine what it is like for my third grader to have her mother as a a teacher for a week.  She was actually a pretty good sport about the whole thing, but did expect some perks.  She got bent out of shape if I didn't call on her first.  She got to come in and eat lunch with me every day.  She used this to her advantage too by going around the playground before lunch and inviting certain student to come eat with me as her exclusive friends.  On Thursday, I was a bit surprised when one after another, the whole class trooped into the classroom with their lunch trays and sat down. 
She had invited the whole dang class to come and eat with 'us'.  It was actually fun though, it gave me a chance to talk to them in a non authoritarian manner and see me as a bit more human.  Today, was interesting, because the weather was bad, and the sign was black.  Of course having had kids in this school for the last eighteen years straight, I knew what this meant.  Indoor recess.  I don't know what it is about those little fifteen minute breaks during the day, but when they are gone, they are truly missed.  An hour or so after the missed recess, I took the kids down to the library and dropped them off.  I hurled myself into the faculty room and shut the door and slammed my back against it,  "They are in the library!"  I said, more to myself than to the lucky, free faculty members lounging around the table.  They just smiled and nodded, they knew.  After lunch recess, when the kids were lining up to go get their food, my daughter came up to me and whispered, "do you want me to announce that they can all eat lunch in here?"  "NO!" I found myself saying a bit too loud.  "I think they need to go to a different room for a little while".   Subbing my daughters class was fine, even fun, but I miss the fifty minute class periods with two of them free.  Where the kids who drive you crazy are gone in less than an hour, and no one comes in to   eat lunch with you, and the indoor recess, is  the librarians problem.