Friday, September 27, 2013

Take Time to Stop and Smell the Roses

Levi loves to sniff everything.  And everyone. I've personally heard more than one person say, "Levi, why are you sniffing my crotch?" and  "Levi, why are you sniffing my butt?" My come back is always the same: "He only does that to people he loves."  It's true, because he loves everyone he meets.




I thought I had a sensitive nose, always picking up the scent of things no one else could. Then we got Levi. I don't pick up the scent of most things he smells. I'm thankful for that. The funny thing is that he seems to love the smell of everything. Well, almost everything. Even he walks out of the room when he passes gas.





Walks with Levi are a favorite part of my day. We are out, getting exercise, walking along at a good pace and then suddenly his nose tells him to stop. Just as we get going again, he smells yet another irresistible scent. At first this irritated me. Then, while he was sniffing, I would start looking around and noticing the beauty all around me. I started carrying my camera along on our walks and snapping pictures whenever Levi insisted on stopping. Now, when he isn't stopping me, I am stopping him. Some days it seems like the walks aren't so much about getting exercise as they are about enjoying the beautiful scenery (and smells) of nature.

It's easy to get so busy with life or so caught up in our worries that we don't take the time to even notice, let alone appreciate the incredible beauty around us. I know I was guilty of this. Sure, I'd  go out and walk for physical exercise most days. But before getting Levi, many of my daily walks consisted of me walking briskly along with my mind focused on to-do lists, worries and struggles. Once we got Levi, that changed. Stopping while he sniffed out something, made me start noticing the beauty in the flowers, trees, and birds all around me. When I started to take pictures of nature, I started realizing what detail God has put in all of creation. If he cared enough to put that much detail into nature, how much more detail must he have put into each and every human being, even me. Perhaps stopping to enjoy the beauty of nature is exercise for my soul. Especially when I  proof in nature that God loves us.

 
















 
 

Monday, September 23, 2013

Everyone You Meet Is Potentially A New Friend



Lauren and the friendly pup
When we went to 'just look' at puppies, our kids sat down on the owners kitchen floor, not far from the whelping box. Puppies were scampering all around. The same friendly little one found his way to each of our three kids, stealing their hearts. He chose them and in turn they chose him. Of course all three kids wanted a puppy, so they were pretty easy to win over. I was the holdout, the one who never wanted a dog and all the work that came with it. So what happened when this little puppy was placed in my arms and he looked up at me? Well, my grinchy heart grew three sizes that day.


 "Please Mom. Can we keep him?"

While the other puppies were cute, the outgoing little runt made our decision of which puppy to choose obvious. Even though he had litter mates to play with, he eagerly greeted three potential new friends. In doing so, he found his forever home.

 
Levi meeting his new friend, Grant
Levi's personality hasn't changed from that first day. He still loves to meet new friends. And to him, everyone he meets, whether human, canine or feline is a potential new friend. I hope he never comes across a skunk, because he'd likely see that as a friend too. If you encounter Levi, you will be greeted with a friendly look and a wagging tail. If you stop to pet him, he will most likely snuggle in closer to you and lie down. If you scratch his tummy, you will be his friend forever.



Levi playing with best friend, Ruby
We could all learn something from Levi's friendliness. While I'm not exactly shy or anti-social, he has forced me to be more outgoing. Like most people, I have an idea in my head of where I fit in and who I fit in with. It's easy to greet those who look the part. But when I encounter someone who doesn't, it is easy to look away, pretend I don't see them or bury my head in my cell phone. Levi doesn't react that way when he meets others who aren't just like him. (And it's not just because he doesn't have a cell phone.) 



It's human nature to notice the clothes others wear, the cars they drive, their weight, skin color, mannerisms, etc. Just observing these things is not wrong. But the next thing we humans do is judge others based on what we see. We "just know" they are materialistic or lazy or full of themselves. And maybe worst of all, we know they are silently judging us as well.


Levi meeting neighbor Jazz
 
Levi doesn't have some silly idea that he fits in some places and not in others. When he sees a person or another dog or cat he doesn't judge them by their color or size. It doesn't occur to him that they might belong to a richer or poorer family than his. Levi doesn't care if you are old or young, tall or short, fat or slim. Your race, political party or sexual preference are of no concern to him. He doesn't compare himself to you or anyone else. He just sees a potential friend. When Levi and I are out walking, we frequently see new people and pets. He always wants to say hello, no matter who they are or what they look like. That kind of forces me to smile and make eye contact with the person. More times than not we exchange pleasantries and wish each other a nice day. And my mood is made brighter because of it. As we continue on our way, I smile and am thankful for this dog walking next to me. He is helping me to see others through his eyes. And I find myself anticipating the next new friend that we will meet.
 




Thursday, September 19, 2013

Poop Happens

Don't let the title of this post scare you. I promise not to post any pictures of dog poop.


My first thought when Levi pooped under the kitchen table was, "Oh crap!" When you think about it, it was a rather appropriate reaction. My second thought was, "Sure, the kids promised to pick up all the dog poop, so I wouldn't have to. And Levi decides to poop in the house when they are at school." (Luckily, Eric was home, so he got the honor.) My third thought may have been the scariest: "That is a big poop from such a little puppy. What's it going to be like when he is a full grown dog?"

Poop happens: Literally and figuratively.

I remember taking a "Caring For Your Newborn" class when I was pregnant with Danielle. Eric and I, along with several other parents-to-be, watched and listened as the instructor showed us how to swaddle a baby, bathe a baby, etc. I distinctly remember her asking who in the class had never changed a diaper. What? There were actually people in the class who had never changed a diaper? Then I noticed Eric was one of the people who had raised their hand in response to the question. Seriously? How did I not know this before? He babysat his nephew and niece when they were little. I sure hope he didn't get paid for babysitting. Eric's lack of experience in diaper changing became obvious soon after Danielle was born. He changed her diaper just before we left the hospital to bring her home. Shortly after arriving home, she needed another diaper change. Eric learned rather quickly that a diaper needs to be put on snugly in order to do it's job correctly. Let's just say that Danielle needed a complete change of outfit and a bath!

The good news is that potty training Levi was quicker than potty training any of our kids. The bad news is that a potty trained dog does not use the bathroom and flush when he's done!



One of the main reasons I never wanted a dog was the whole poop issue. You may remember that the kids promised to pick up ALL the poop so that I would never have to. For the record, I never believed it. In their defense, they do pick it up if they are out with Levi when it happens. But I am a bit obsessed with making sure it is cleaned up immediately. And since I am with Levi more than anyone else, it makes sense that I clean up most of it. And the crazy part is that it doesn't even phase me any more. Poop happens....you pick it up and get on with your day.


The problem is that the figurative poop that we all encounter can't easily be put in a poop bag and thrown in the trash. We all have crap happen in our lives: hurt, disappointment, heartbreak, illness, loss, etc. Sometimes it seems to keep coming at us, until we are sitting alone in the backyard with piles of crap all around us. From where we sit, we see neighbors, acquaintances and friends walking by. Several begin to raise their arms as if to wave, then apparently noticing the piles surrounding us, drop their arms, look away and pick up their pace. When did everyone we know become runners?



Then along comes a friend, perhaps named Levi, who despite the piles of crap surrounding us, just sees his friend sitting alone. He approaches, never flinching at the smell, and lies down at our feet to listen. He listens with his heart, hearing the unspoken words in the tears falling onto his fur. When our eyes finally dry, we notice that the piles of crap, while not completely gone, are considerably smaller.

~Gracious Lord, May we all have a friend like Levi and be a friend like Levi. Amen
 
 

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Never Say Never

 
I never wanted a dog. If someone had predicted a year ago that there would be a dog living in my house today, I would have laughed hysterically, and called the person crazy. Yet as I write this, my eight month old puppy, Levi, is sound asleep on our living room floor.

So how did we end up with a puppy? It's a long story. I'll just say that someone I trusted suggested that it might be a good thing for our family. I said I'd consider it. Then, another wise friend agreed that a puppy might be a good addition to our family. Even though I thought our family was complete, I said I'd consider adding a puppy to the mix.

Why didn't I ever want a dog? Well, for starters, to me, dogs were smelly, outdoor farm animals.

Growing up, there was always at least one dog on the farm. The first dog I remember having was a collie named Sport. I only remember him after his "accident". One morning, the milk truck came to empty our bulk tank full of fresh milk. Sport was lying in the way. The driver didn't see him, and ran over one of his hind legs, breaking it. The story I remember is that a cast was put on the leg. But it was put on too tightly, and the leg ended up needing to be amputated. So the Sport that I remember was 3-legged Sport. But missing a leg never slowed him down. He still ran around the farm like he owned the place. But I was never close to Sport. To me, he wasn't a pet. He was just another farm animal. And yet, when Sport died a few years later, I remember crying about it. I also remember wondering why I was crying over a dog I didn't really even care for.

Daisy
 


The next farm dogs I recall were Daisy and her puppy, Wiggles. I have no idea what breed of dog they were. They were very small compared to the other dogs we usually had. I remember Wiggles being a hyper little puppy who ran in circles for several minutes at a time, chasing his tail.





Oscar and Tony on the lawn swing
Tony (aka Evil Knievel) and Mike
Next came Frosty and Cinnamon. They were mutts that someone dumped out in the country. Some how they ended up at the farm and we kept them. As you can probably guess, Frosty was white and Cinnamon was, well, cinnamon colored. Perfect names for them. But after watching awards shows on TV, my brother Mike, decided to change their names to Oscar and Tony. Why the rest of us didn't fight the new names, I have no idea. I do recall Mike doing stupid pet tricks with those two dogs. He would position them on the mini bikes or on the swing set. I was then in charge of taking pictures. (I know that only half of Tony is visible on the lawn swing picture. But hey, I was only 9 when I took the picture. And this was way back in the old days when we used film instead of digital cameras!)

Then there was Okie. Okie was brought to the farm by one of my dad's relatives. Okie was the wildest dog I ever met. He liked to harass the chickens on the farm. OK, harass might be an understatement. One morning, Mike woke up and walked outside to find a dead chicken in the yard. Then another. He quickly picked them up, thinking no one would notice a few missing chickens. But he kept finding more and more dead chickens, and realized there was no hiding it. I can't remember if it was 17 or 32 dead chickens found that morning. But I do remember that Okie didn't have too many more mornings on the farm.

My brother Mike later bought a coon hound puppy named Sniffer. I remember going along to pick him up. We put him in a cardboard box for the ride home. Good thing since Sniffer threw up an entire dill pickle on the ride home. I still wonder how that little pup got ahold of a dill pickle and swallowed it whole.

Over the years, several other dogs called our farm "home" at different times. Some were hunting dogs, others were mutts. Many of them chased vehicles that drove by the farm. Some nipped at strangers who came into the yard. I never felt any real attachment to any of those dogs. They were always outside or barn dogs. They weren't allowed inside the house.

When my dad's cousin, Bernice, visited from New Mexico, her dogs came along. They were inside dogs. While Mother didn't like the idea, she, of course, let the dogs stay in the house. 



Maggie giving Evan a kiss
 
When my oldest sister, Kathy, got an indoor dog named Bandit, things changed. Bandit was allowed in the house when Kathy visited. After Bandit died, Kathy got a Jack Russell Terrier named Maggie. Maggie quickly learned that if she sat and looked up at my mom, she would be rewarded with pieces of whatever delicious human food my mom happened to be eating. Maggie loved the bits of toast and cookies that she could con my mom into giving her.  Once, Kathy even caught Mother feeding Maggie lasagna off of a spoon.



Ruby
But I still wasn't a dog person. Our kids begged for years to get a dog, but I wouldn't budge. Three years ago, our next door neighbors got a chocolate lab puppy. Ruby is adorable and I have loved her from the minute I met her. And it was perfect having a cute puppy next door that I wasn't responsible for. Still, a dog was never going to live in our house.




Well, when the kids heard that I was actually considering getting a puppy, I think they knew what to do. They started making promises that they'd clean their rooms, pick up after the puppy every time it pooped so that I would never have to, they'd take the puppy for walks, feed it, love it, never fight with each other again and eat all their vegetables.  OK, I may have made up those last two, but you get the idea.


Levi on the day we first met him
The kids pictured a puppy to snuggle with. I pictured a backyard full of dog poop. They imagined a best friend with fur. I imagined our furniture covered in fur. They wanted a golden retriever. I didn't want a dog at all. Honestly, the only positive I could see in getting a dog was that I wouldn't have to sweep the kitchen as often, since I knew a dog would clean the floor for me.

But since I agreed to "consider it", we did a little research and learned that golden retrievers are good family dogs. We bought the book Golden Retrievers for Dummies. We read about picking out the right puppy for our family. We looked at ads for puppies.  We made an appointment to see 5 week old golden retriever puppies. We told the kids we were just looking. When we walked into the house with the puppies, there was a distinct dog smell. But when I saw the tiny little puppies, the smell seemed to magically evaporate. They were adorable little pups, scampering around the kitchen. One puppy found his way over to Danielle. He was the runt and his face had a little different shape than the others. Dani instantly fell in love with him. The same puppy found it's way to Lauren and Evan too. They were equally smitten.  I held him and had to admit he was cute. When the owners put food in the bowl for the puppies, this puppy lingered behind the others. Then he jumped on top of his brothers and sisters and got his little face into the bowl as well.  As we left, we told the breeders that we'd let them know if we were interested. They told us to let them know soon, as some of the puppies were already spoken for. But the runt, who had chosen our kids, was still available.

On the ride home, the conversation turned to what we would name the puppy, if we got him. After a few crazy suggestions from the kids, I commented that maybe a biblical name would be nice. Evan then suggested the name Jesus. I could just picture myself yelling out the back door to a naughty puppy, "Jesus Christ, get in here now!" That certainly would have entertained the neighbors. I started naming off the books of the bible aloud: "Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus....hmm....what about Levi?" One by one, the kids all agreed that they liked the name Levi. It is rare for our kids to agree on anything that quickly, so when they did, the puppy had his name. Just one problem....I still didn't want a dog!

I was caving into the idea of a puppy, and I knew it. After a few days, Eric and I agreed that we would in fact buy this puppy. Eric drove to the breeders and put money down to save the little runt for us. We waited a while to tell the kids though. Heck, they were on their best behavior those days, trying to convince us that they would keep all those promises they made. Why would we ruin it by telling them we were getting the puppy?


We set the day we'd pick up Levi for a Friday that the kids had off school. But then Eric and I decided that it would actually work better for us to get him a week earlier. We didn't tell the kids and after sending them to school for the day, we jumped in the car to go and pick up the new addition to the family. On the drive there, I kept repeating out loud, "I don't like dogs. I don't want a puppy." Even I didn't believe those words any more. I did feel a little bad taking Levi away from his mom and dad. But I knew he was going to a good home. It admittedly was a home that was clueless about puppies, but it was a good home. I held the pup on my lap for over an hour as Eric drove home. Levi kept yawning right in my face. I never before knew how horrible puppy breath was! We got home, came into the house and within 10 minutes, Levi pooped under the kitchen table. Oh Lord, what was I thinking?


Come along with me as I relay the lessons our little bundle of fur has been teaching us. ~ Kim


Levi, sound asleep shortly after arriving at his forever home