All Creatures.....Some Really Small.

* Update on Moose

After Larry passed away little Moose would run to his chair several times a day  looking for him.
Sometimes she'd sit by the door waiting.
It broke my heart. But it reminded me of blessings.

You see, one morning not long before he passed, Kelley was taking her dad to the doctor. She noticed him gently stroking his knee continually.
She asked, "Dad, what are you doing?"
He looked down and said in mild surprise, "Oh sorry..... just petting the dog."

That's what happened for hours each day. Dog petting.
I wonder who was comforted the most?

Now Moose rides in the front basket of my electric cart.
My cart is a huge blessing for which I'm extremely grateful, by the way.
Moose hates being cold so she's wrapped in a nest of blankets with only her little head sticking out.
We go everywhere like this. Even places where she's not allowed.  I just cover her up so that only her eyes show.
The girls bought her a little harness that says "Service Dog" but I don't feel it's honest. They say, "Sure it is, Ma. She's an official Crazy Old Lady Who's Finally Lost It, service dog. We can certify."

So, I've become the old lady on the cart with the little brown dog. Tooling around the neighborhood, Walmart and Loew's.
Believe me I never thought my life would come to this.

But, to be honest, there are advantages.
I can fetch and carry many things for people, easily saving time and steps. Too, on good days I can put in a 10 hour day and at the end of it my feet don't hurt. And I once beat the grandkids to Toontown on a Disney trip.  Life is full of  tender mercies. Just look for them.

So Moose has now become my constant companion.
A gift from Larry who was her first choice.
And when I reach inside her nest on the cart basket to be sure she's warm, she always turns to lick me.

 I wonder who's comforted most.


"And I, God, made the beasts of the earth after their kind, and everything which creepeth upon the earth after his kind; And I, God, saw that all these things were good."          Moses 2: 24-25                                                                                                                                                                                                                   
" The tender mercies of the Lord are over all,"           1 Nephi 1:20                                                                                                                                                                       


*Original Post     


All Creaures...Some Really Small
************

I've never been a "dog person" really.
I've always thought cats were less trouble for the most part.
Until recently I never met a dog that didn't cause me some kind of grief.
Usually this grief involves my having more work to do and less money to spend. Come to think of it I still haven't met one that doesn't cause more work and less money.

I know a lot about that dog grief thing too.
How? Because all of my married life we've had dogs. And more than one at a time too.
Why, you say?
Because, you see, even though I'm not, Larry definitely IS a dog person.  He's had dogs since he was a boy, and they've always had him.

Well, as we all know, marriage is often about compromise.
So, to be fair to me, Larry reluctantly compromised and said we could have cats to go along with the dogs and children.
And I was elected to be responsible for the care and feeding of all of them, including Larry.

Now something's happened concerning a dog that I'm almost reluctant to tell you. It's out of character for me and I'm afraid that people will think that I've become delusional along with whatever else I've become.
But I'm not delusional yet, and I was so touched that I must tell you about it.

You see, last night, an aging, nondescript, sometimes annoying little brown dog with one white spot, went out of her way to show compassion towards a being not even of her same species.
That species being human. That human being me.
And compassion it was, there was no mistaking it for anything else. Which leads to a whole lot of other deep animal questions to think about later.

Let me tell you about the dog.
She was rescued as a teeny, tiny pup by my son-in-law who found her while he was working in an empty house. He heard pitiful cries and went to help. She fit in the palm of his hand and was not even old enough to have been weaned. He checked with neighbors with no luck.
Being a compassionate yet smart man, he didn't take it home to his wife and seven kids. He knew a great truth was found in that old saying, "There's no such thing as a free puppy."
So instead he took it to his sisters-in-law.
Just as he'd figured, they immediately rushed it to the vet, paid the bill, and then stopped off at the nearest pet market to buy hundreds of dollars of dog stuff, most of it in pink. Included were little bottles of expensive dog formula which the vet recommended feeding every three hours round the clock for some weeks. This was years ago.

Well, that little pup grew into the smallest chihuahua-mutt-mix princess the vets had ever seen every six months for regular shots and check-ups. The girls named her "Daisy."
These daughters felt that Daisy and her border collie sibling, (another rescue), would be lonely if left alone too long, so they dropped them off early each morning to spend weekdays with us while the girls were teaching.
Larry, however, refused to have a dog in the house with such a "wuusie" name as Daisy.
So he renamed her "Moose."

Well, Moose is now older. She stays with us full-time while our dog Murphy, who is still an adolescent in dog years, and therefore trouble, stays with our daughters, who can handle trouble better than we can now.

Moose has a little pillow kept right between Larry and I on our bed where she sleeps at night. She has her own favorite blankets. She hates being cold so several times a night I reach in to her little nest to make sure she's warm and covered.

Well, sad to say, I now have geezer issues which cause pain whenever I move.
Last night I was trying to get more comfortable in bed and was attempting a turn which caused some moans of distress. After much tribulation I finally got settled.

As soon as I did, a sleepy little brown dog with one white spot emerged from her warm nest.
She came over to me, licked my arm exactly twice, turned around and went back inside the blankets to her bed.
There was no mistaking the message.
I knew instantly what those licks meant.
She was saying, "There, there. You're okay now. Go back to sleep."

Tender mercies.

I guess Father sends them in lots of ways.

Today I'm thankful for all his creatures great and small.
Once in the middle of a dark night a very small one brought comfort to me.

Animals and Fear

This is another re-post. I'd like to explain.

I'm preparing to take an on-line class in writing from BYU.  Before I sign up I'm trying to correct some of the many mistakes in earlier posts. You see, my stories have always been "told."  Writing them on two dimensional paper has been very difficult for me. What words indicate "eye rolling" or a disgusted look for example? Is there punctuation for a pause longer than a comma's worth? No? Well, making some up has been my solution.

Anyway, I'm afraid that a real writer/teacher might see my scribblings and then I'll be embarrassed, perhaps even mortified. 

Please pray that even an old dog can still learn. 

And thank you so much for your many kind comments. They've kept me from giving up on this "old dog's new trick."

ANIMALS AND FEAR

When we moved from the big city to the woods several years ago it was for an, “I promise, we’ll just try it and see,” time. Our family business had just closed and we were at a crossroads. 

Our two oldest children were all grown and living productive lives of their own in the desert city where we lived, but we still had two young daughters to raise. 
Larry and I were both ready for a big change so I had sought and been offered a job teaching in a small rural district in the Arizona mountains. His family had a summer cabin there so that’s where we were headed. He would look for work when we were settled. There was no rent to pay and we didn't have to sell our city house. No risk. Just try it and see.

None of us was at all sure this move would work out well, but some in the family, namely our young daughters, were more than just reluctant, they were downright terrified. 
We were leaving a comfortable urban home near every convenience to move to a tiny fishing cabin in the wilderness. No joking here….. lots of snow, heated by wood stove, 17 miles to work and school.  Had we lost our minds?
It wasn't just our girls who wondered either. Most people we knew thought we were certifiably insane. 
So we made a deal with our kids. Our daughters were promised that they could make the decision to move back to the city at semester’s end if that’s what they wanted.

As it turned out, I taught for well over a decade at that small rural school in the mountains of east central Arizona. Larry worked for the sawmill, schools, and Forest Service until he began driving his beloved big trucks, building highways all over those now also beloved, big mountains. 
We added on to the cabin and stayed until the girls grew up and left for college and a mission. 

After that first terrifying semester which included many tears and fears, our daughters said we could go back to the city if we wanted. They were staying. The bishop's family would take them. They'd already asked.
You see, while we lived there all of us had made dear friends, and countless mountain lives “touched ours for good” as the hymn says.


Now, back in the city, one Sunday as I was singing those exact words about lives that touched for good, my thoughts drifted back to our “mountain years” and all those many lives that made ours so much richer. 
I realized as I considered this that some of those we remember so well weren’t even human. 

Animals, especially wild ones, were a vital part of daily life on the mountain. This was something very new for city folks, I can tell you. Our encounters with critters of all kinds made a lasting impression on us which is actually kind of surprising considering that contact with wild animals tends to be pretty brief. 
I know it’s not just me either, because often, so many years later, someone in my family will say wistfully, “Remember the time we saw ……..” 
Anyway, in addition to the wonderful people, I’m grateful for all the critters, large and small that have crossed my path. 
In so doing they have enriched my human experience.


Elk, deer, skunks, raccoons, javalina, bear and even mountain lions were native to our area. Their presence was a blessing in many ways.

I remember fellow teachers heading out before school started in the morning when deer and elk season began. They'd be off to hunt wearing their ties and dress shoes, trekking out behind the Circle K on the hill just outside town, hoping to get a deer or an elk to fill their freezers and feed their families for the winter. This was easy hunting, not much glory, because everybody knew where the animals crossed as the sun came up each day. But elk tacos, chile, or tamales made fine meals on a snowy night, glory or not, and a teacher’s pay needed to stretch as far as it could. The animals provided and were taken with gratitude.


Every now and then animals could be a problem though, as with skunks. Our bishop’s dog captured one once and drug it through their house to show off his prize.
And on one occasion folks in town kept up a cougar watch as a big cat was spotted sunning itself on a high rocky ledge above the main road into the school. 
He never came in close enough to bother anyone though and so was left in peace.


The school playground was lushly green, the sky above it always filled with huge banks of snowy cumulus clouds moving fast on the high winds aloft. We could often spot hawks circling effortlessly under them, their wings outstretched but never seeming to move. 
Ravens would sometimes fly so low, we could hear the swish of their great black wings as they passed. 
These were not city skies for sure, no pale blue and wispy white here. Someone once told me it was the high altitude, but I don’t know if that’s true. 
Outdoor lunch duty actually became a pleasure instead of a chore as teachers sat together talking while kids gathered around or played ball on the grassy fields. These were not just students either, but young friends, the children of friends, and children of our own. 
In fact, one of our daughters was a student in my class one year. I always say her success in life can be attributed to her fine 5th grade teacher….she just laughs when I say that.


At days end, as we drove home, the girls and I sometimes could spot bald eagles roosting in tall snags jutting through the pines along Highway 260. Their white heads seemed to shine above dark bodies on the bare branches left from some long ago forest fire.


We learned after a while where we needed to slow down on the 17 mile trip home. 
Elk and deer cross in herds and in the same place and time usually. No speed limit signs needed for locals.
Bear were common too, but usually only a single cinnamon or black body ambled across our path when we spotted them. Though once we saw a mother with her cubs. 
Back at our cabin, bears were common visitors too. Larry once mistakenly took off after one with a rake, thinking it was the sheriff’s big hound, Blue, rooting through the garbage. He hurried back to the porch when he discovered it wasn’t.


The years we spent in the mountains, living in our tiny cabin in the woods, working in the little community nearby, are filled with happy memories of the people, land, and animals that lived there. What a blessing it was to raise our two youngest children among them! How thankful we all are to have been blessed with that time in the woods.


I sometimes think about how much we would have missed if even one of us had given in to the fear and anxiety we all felt at leaving the city and all that was comfortable and familiar to live a completely different kind of life. 
Along with the wonderful mountain people we never would have met the deer, elk, javalina, bears, mountain lions and all those other non-human lives that touched ours for good. 

That move away from our desert city was a big risk for our family. 
There was a lot to worry about……..icy mountain driving, chopping wood to heat the cabin , deep snow, no friends, miles and miles to the nearest small store, no cable TV, malls, doctors, or restaurants nearby.
We prayed about it beforehand, of course, and Heavenly Father didn’t say “No."  We were sure of that.
That didn’t keep the fear and self-doubts from us, though. This was a huge risk, an enormous change for all of us. 
Maybe we were crazy to even think about it.


I have since learned that Heavenly Father doesn’t send fear and self-doubt as an answer to prayers about what course to take in life. 
Those feelings don’t come from Him. He sends His answers in other ways. 
That’s a good thing to know for future reference isn’t it?    Never let fear make the decision.
Do your homework about what’s on your mind. Check it carefully out. If it feels like the right thing to you, then take it to Heavenly Father for his approval. If you get it, then move ahead with confidence.


Fear of the unknown, or doubts that you can do it, or panic because you might fail are feelings that don’t come from Him.  
You might miss some of life’s greatest blessings if you let fear make the decision. 
That’s a good thing to know, isn’t it? 
Fear shouldn’t decide.

"And because of Him, our hearts need not be troubled or afraid, and we will be blessed to hush our fears."
 David Bednar

Many Sheep Cross the Sky

*Note
      Two of the Lord's finest souls were called home this week. This post is                   dedicated to them.  
      Frank Greer, my boss and principal of the school where I taught for 12 years, known fondly as "Sarge" to me.  I can't think of him and not smile.
      And Chester Crandell, who taught my own children, and who's dear wife Alice       worked alongside me in my classroom. He later became a state senator and flags fly at half mast in his honor this week.
      
      May Father bless you both and keep those you love in his tender care.




“To gladden the eye and delight the heart of man.” That’s what the scriptures say. That’s why Heavenly Father’s creations are so beautiful. He made them that way on purpose just for us. How grateful I am for that love. The love that created beauty.

 Well, may we never pass by God’s creations without noticing how lovely they are.  And I hope He’s pleased to see the joy in our eyes.

Years ago, when our family first moved to the mountains from the city, we were suddenly surrounded by awesome natural scenery every day and night. It was impossible to ignore and often stopped us in our tracks. 

One day at lunch recess I remember standing on the grassy school playground where I was supposed to be watching kids. Instead I was turning in circles as I looked up into that impossibly bluest of blue skies.  Enormous, puffy, white clouds raced on the high winds. Clouds never looked like that or moved that fast in the city. I was fascinated by them.  
One of my students was standing nearby, a Navajo boy. He looked up intently at my face with a puzzled expression and said kindly,  “Many sheep cross the sky. It will rain soon.” I guess he thought I was looking for an explanation. 

Truly, living on the mountain, each day, each season, brought beauties….some that took your breath away.

Well, all good things must end, they say, and that dreaded day came after more than 12 years. Our nest emptied and our selfish children refused to give us any of the grandkids to keep in our little house in the big woods. They were all down in the nasty old city, our posterity were. We couldn’t talk them into letting us keep even one sticky little grandbaby or annoying teenager even though they had plenty. They were all lowlanders again, as the mountain folks called them. If we wanted to be near kids and grandkids we had to move.  A wrench in so many ways, it wasn't only the beauty around us but the mountain people we'd miss. Some of the finest folks on earth lived in this high country. 

Sadly we both found jobs and moved back.

We had grown so close to nature up here that I was sure that trading Ponderosa forests and mountain lakes for traffic jams and dust storms would be really hard. It was, but I was surprised at a lesson I learned.

We bought a tiny little “spec” house right at first. It was just a place for temporary shelter while we settled back after years of mountain life. School had already started and we'd look for something permanent later. The house was built for someone else who decided against it, but was ready for move-in right away. Both of us were adjusting to new jobs and the house had its good points…..the kids and grandkids were nearby, stores were right around the corner, (Not a 50 mile drive over sometimes snow covered, winding, mountain roads), and best of all every kind of restaurant my husband could think of could be found somewhere in the city. (That didn’t stop him from driving us 400 miles to another state for a burrito as big as your head because Sunset magazine had an article about one though.) Despite its good points there was a downside. The house was one of those “ticky, tacky boxes all in a row,” with the red tile roofs that sprawl all over the southwest. You have to count your way down the block to find where you live because every one’s the same, sort of thing. In this suburban neighborhood I certainly didn’t see any hope of finding any connection with the land or animals that had become such a big part of our lives in the woods. This was the city…… albeit the outskirts….. there’s no nature here, I thought.

Well, I was wrong. There is nature here….though a different, smaller kind. Sometimes you have to be very still to experience it, but it calms the soul, nevertheless.

For instance, a small yellow bird with green feathers shading its head comes every day to the palo verde tree just off the back patio. It hops among the green branches, lime colored leaves, and yellow flowers. A vine hangs down from the arbor that I had Guillermo build for me, dangling a purple flower right in the open doorway to the little library we made from the spare bedroom. We knocked out the windows and put a French door that opens onto a tiny courtyard we built there between the house and block wall. Hummingbirds never fail to stop to drink nectar from the blossoms while I sit next to the little fountain that Larry hung on the wall for me. The honeysuckle we planted just months ago now almost covers the whole thing. The tiny courtyard’s only 10 feet wide but is filled with old pots of bright fuscia bouganvillia and hearts and flowers spilling onto the brick pavers. The doors to the little library are usually wide open if the AC's not running.  One hummer even ventured inside once, standing still in mid-air…… pausing….. I think, to listen to the music we had playing while we sat on the loveseat next to the shelves filled with my books. Bees and butterflies flit to the potted Mexican lime tree that always has some blossoms no matter the season. Its little limes are the most flavorful I’ve ever tasted……the fresh, limey smell fills the kitchen whenever you slice one to put in your ice water. Two lizards visit daily, doing pushups on the wall…their blue bellies showing bright under their tan scales. I see them so often I’ve named them Lucky and Lucy though I’ve no idea of their gender. 

On restless nights when sleep doesn’t come easily I go and sit on the bench outside our bedroom, a soft breeze moving the leaves on the trees now as tall as the house after only a few months. In March that breeze brings the heady scent of orange and lemon blossoms which perfumes the air across the entire desert Valley. I look up to see a few familiar stars visible above. Even in the light of the city I can find the dippers and the North star. Orion is often there, too, guarding those below with his sword at the ready. Certainly not the clouds of stars we could see in the white swath of the Milky Way on moonless nights on the mountain, but somehow comforting, nevertheless. It turns out that we made a trade of sorts when we moved back to the desert……stars for sunsets it was. Sunsets are often spectacular here, of course. Reds, oranges, and purples paint the darkening western sky almost every night. We had to drive to the Rim overlook to see sunsets on the mountain. Too many huge ponderosa pines blocked the view. But whenever we returned home after being out after dark it was always someone’s job to run and turn off the porch light. Then we could all stand and stare up at the millions of stars so dense that they made a dusty white path across the black night sky. The Milky Way for sunsets…that was the trade.

There are other small pleasures here, too…….soft night breezes and the sounds and smells of freshly cut grass even in winter ….that sort of thing. 

So we stayed in the little “spec” house…… longer than we intended.....husband now saying, “It’s big enough for just us two and I don’t want to move furniture.” Now years have passed in this temporary, just until we get settled again place.

Even though we miss the spectacular beauties of the mountains I now believe it’s true what the old hymn says….“there is beauty all around.”

Wherever you are, look for it and be gladdened and delighted. I think it will make Heavenly Father happy.