On the road

"Begging!" implores the email messages coming into my mailbox. "Only one leg to fill- please help!" And so it goes for the coordinators who volunteer their many hours setting up amazingly complicated transports shuttling dogs and cats across the northeastern US and into Canada. Animals who currently are housed at shelters that euthanize or ones that try not to but are filled to capacity must leave or die. It's that simple. Along with the information about the legs left to fill- 2 drivers needed for leg 4b from Columbus to Mansfield, meeting place the east side of Walmart at exit 19 for 6 dogs- come pictures and descriptions of the animals- Buddy, a 40 pound black lab, sweet boy, thinks he's a lap dog, travels well- who need a lift. I scroll through the pictures and descriptions of these furry people, animals who would love a person to greet after work or to have their bed on the floor by a little kid's bed, and know that if I- and people like me- don't step up and volunteer some time and gas there won't be a tomorrow.

Sometimes I wonder why animals mean so much to me. Why not orphaned children or refugees who have survived disaster? I don't know. I do care very much about the orphans and refugees and do what little I can for them and I accept that in this life loving animals is what I am to do.

Charlie

Our happy little bunny, Charlie, left us this morning to join Jessie, Patience, Winnie and Lady in the heaven where animals go. The trees are always green and the weather mild with soft clouds, golden sun and soft rain showers to make the tender lettuce leaves grow. Peeled banana bits hang from trees, ripe and ready for a little nibble and hay grows fresh every morning, blowing sweet and fragrant in a soft breeze. Friendly hawks, as well as all manner of feline and canine companions provide companionship and romp or swoop over the peaceful place where all bunnies are free and happy and well.

An Olympian Winter

As of March 1, winter is over in my world. Snow covers most of the ground and the last two nights saw temperatures in the 20's but it is still spring for me. The first spring bulbs- tiny white snow crocuses- have appeared. The cardinals and chickadees are singing in the dark early morning and yesterday there was a pair of Canadian geese trying out nesting areas by the river.
We have had a cold snowy winter and spent much of it- evenings at least- hunkered down in our snug little house. Ohio saw near- record snowfall in February. I imagine it will be weeks before the mountains of now gray snow will melt away, piled from shoveled driveways and parking lots. We definitely had record ice cycles hanging from the house. Before I knocked them down last weekend, a few went from roof to the ground. They were beautiful when caught in the rare moments of bright sun, sparkling like crystal, clear and blue.
Jim and I always enjoy the Olympics and the 2010 Vancouver Games were no exception. During the day I looked forward to the evening when our work was done, knowing plans for pizza and a few hours of skiing, skating or skateboarding were in store. Oliver, our tuxedo'd gentleman cat, also anticipated these evenings atop a warm TV.

Visitors

Last night there were two visitors at our home. One was invited and one was not. One was a known member of the family and the other was a stranger. I was aware of the first being there in the night, but the other crept stealthily under cover of darkness to rob me if there was something worth taking and I was unaware of his presence until the morning.
Kayden was over for another big night of fun. He had Sesame Street Ernie pasta for dinner, a new addition to his toddler diet that I forked into his baby bird open mouth. We had our usual fun, including our version of Olympics 2010. We have prayer flags hanging in our living room- 6 in all- bright blue, pink, orange, green yellow and red. Kayden loves to be launched up to a height where he can touch each flag as I call out the color. He laughs and I laugh and my arms get a workout and he is learning colors. It gets a gold medal every time. When Kayden's mom and dad picked him up this morning, there was ample evidence of his visit all around the house.
My other visitor probably had dinner too, put out for birds and squirrels to help them eat while the ground is covered with snow. He also may have performed Olympian feats attempting to access the dinner. However this guest, leaving only the smallest evidence that he has visited, slipped quietly away in the night.

Home

No one will ever accuse me of having a home that looks like a magazine, with throw pillows artfully arranged, gleaming hardwood floors, and everything in its place. We will never need an alarm system to protect our valuables because our valuables all wear fur coats or are pieces of art made mostly by our kids- neither exactly hot items to pawn.
And yet, all of this surrounding me daily is precious and priceless. I can't imagine sitting on the couch without at least 2 animals on my lap or beside me; it just wouldn't be home. I wondered this morning as I filled bowls with fresh water and cat food, handed out treats to the dogs as they came in from the cold, and cut banana pieces for the rabbits, how it would feel to get up in the morning and have no one to take care of but Jim and me. It was like trying to imagine walking with one leg- out of balance and missing something necessary. I smile when I look at our "dining room" because only the rabbits actually dine there. Charlie and Stuarts' pen sits below the bay window and Jeffrey and Nutmegs' is opposite. There is generally some hay on the floor, if not from our dropping a piece when we fill their pans twice a day, then from the cats who pull it from the pens and eat it or bat it around.
In addition to its occupants, this home surrounds me with warmth and comfort. Like an old friend, I trust these walls to anchor and support me and to provide a place where I know I will always be welcome. I love our flower gardens in the warm months, and my mind's eye sees the bright colors in the summer sun even as I look upon our snow shrouded yard. Even now, as the furnace hums its soothing sound, I look forward to the breezes of April blowing through windows opened wide. Now we enjoy the flickering light of candles in the still dark February evenings and eat dinner by the fireplace, but soon the fireflies will replace the candles and we'll spend time late in the day outside on the porch swing at sunset. And in between, we will continue to go out and live our work day lives in other places with other people, knowing that, if we are so blessed, we will return home again to our beloved cottage on Sheffield Road.

Good times with my buddy

Kayden and Gramma had another sleepover last Saturday night. Kayden is a great dancer, so first I put A Charlie Brown Christmas CD on and we did some head bobbing and turning in circles to some of those songs. But next I went for some tunes with a stronger beat and selected Louisiana Gumbo. When he first heard it, this look of "Wohhhh!!" came over his face and he really cut a rug, which, of course, had me laughing and snapping pictures.

His walking and balance skills have improved immensely. He can squat and pick something off of the floor without holding on and is becoming faster crossing the room. When he arrived he had on these cute little Michael Jordan shoes that made a little thunk thunk thunk noise when he walked- still flat footed. His language perception is growing too. He can point to a nose (his, yours, a dog's in his picture book) and eyes and ears. He says "hi!" and ""uh" for up (as in pick me up). Mostly, however, his word of choice is "doh" ~ Homer Simpson style. "Doh" is used in a variety of situations: when accompanied by a pointing finger, it means "Let's talk about this item I'm pointing at". When he is eating, it means he wants more. Heidi is afraid he is going to pass right by the "mamma" and "dadda" stage of speech and go straight to "Mom", as he seems to prefer single syllables.

As it always does, our evening ended with his bath and rocking him to sleep- the latter not being a popular decision at first, as Kayden apparently thought there was still play time left. He did eventually go to sleep, his silky curly hair brushing my face.

When you only have 100 years to live

I've never understood why people- usually women- refuse to tell their age. Yesterday was my fifty first birthday and I have known women who would have given anything to say that but didn't get the chance. Shari, a patient I grew to know and care about, lost her life to cancer last week. I don't recall her age but she was younger than me. She and I sat together about a month ago and she cried because she knew her cancer treatment wasn't working. Even so, she couldn't bear to stop driving to the hospital and spending time she didn't have receiving chemotherapy because she simply wanted to live. Even as I tried to suggest hospice care for her, knowing the chemo was not only futile but was also making her feel worse, I respected her decision to go on. "I can't give up" she said.

I think of the actual people who are the "Five killed by a roadside bomb in Iraq" or one of the thousands just lost in Haiti. Just like that, and your time here is over.

Today I celebrate the first day on my way to 52. Each morning I see the sun rise is a gift that I will never take for granted even if I live to be 100.