from my inbox this morning

What follows is an email exchange between Dad and I this morning.  Remember, he lives in Mexico.

subject line: Rotties

I  was walking near home today when a honkin big pick[-up] drives off the hiway onto the frontage road and rolls down the window and says "Art Wait." It's a lady vet friend of mine from Guad and she has a beautiful but thin 1 1/2  yr old Rottie bitch in the back of the truck and she's insisting she's gonna give me the dog right now because she's relocating the dog for a client who can't keep her and she planned to take her to a ranch as a guard dog but when she met her she said there's no way this sweety is gonna live where she doesn't get people contact. I took her out of the crate for little walk on the frontage road and she probably hasn't been on a leash more than a dozen times in her life but when she realized she was going to be okay she was more like a lap sittin' kissy faced golden retriever. So I convinced the vet to hold her for 2 days and tonite I'm calling in some markers hoping to find this girl a home. Couldn't help but share this with you after reading about the Budda. Hope spring has finally found you. Love Dad

Spring? What's that? Woke to snow again yesterday. Is it ever going to stop?


Enough wankin'. Hope you find a home for that very sweet sounding girl. If your markers fall through, you could deliver her up here. ;)
 
 
I'd take her in a heartbeat, she sounds like she's going to turn in to a really nice dog.

The Buddha, part 2

TFHU was married before we became roommates (again, we had lived together {as roommates} quite some years before) and he went and got himself a Rottweiller pup.  This was a pretty nice little dog and when he was about 4 months old he started to show signs of lameness beyond growing pains that dogs sometimes end up with.  He was taken to the vet and diagnosed with the canine equivalent of muscular dystrophy and had to be put down.  Turned out that out of a litter of 12, all 6 of the boys had it and had to be destroyed and the breeder ended up giving him a female which he proptly named Butch.  EEW, that's just a tacky name for a girl. 

When he and his wife split, the poor dog was farmed out to friends who left her in the back yard all the time and she didn't get a chance to develop any people skills (or any other skills for that matter).  All she knew was "If  sit, I get a cookie", and that the dish of food was slid through the sliding door which was immediately slammed shut.  Oh, and chickens are really stupid things that taste really good after they've stuck their heads through a hole in the wall of the chicken coop. 

Anyhoo, we had been living together with my 2 dogs, Harley and Pig (Pig's a whole 'nother story, that'll come 'round later) and every time we went to see Butchie, it broke my heart.  The people she was with weren't dog people and the wife was terrified of her.   So I started to work on him.  It took about a month, but I finally got him to bring her home.  The very first time that she met my cat Hobbes, she stuck that great big beak right in Hobby's face to say hello and ol' Hobbes let 'er have it with both feet.  She had a very healthy respect for cats after that.  And then she met The Pig who immediately grabbed her by the lip and hung on for dear life.  You've never seen anything quite as funny as a Pomeranian hanging off a Rotti's lip as she's back-peddling across the room.  (she weighed 1 pound from the day she was full grown 'til the day she passed)

The first night home he insisted that she wasn't sleeping in the house, even though my 2 did.  Well, she started to howl about 1/2 hour after we went to bed.  He got up, went outside and gave her a whack.  He went back to bed and it started again.  So he went out and hit her again.  Nice welcome to the neighborhood.  The third time she started, I went out.  And invited her in.  She slept on my side of the bed from that time on.

That night she chewed up a ball cap that had been hanging on the corner of the door and fell off when she rolled over and bumped it.  OK, bad dog.  My girls were used to being left in the house when I was gone and mostly they'd just sleep, so when we went to town the next day to do a grocery run we didn't think anything of leaving her loose as well.  Wrong.  When we got home she had chewed the toe off one of my boots.  Damn it.  The next time we left her, she started on the couch.  You know the ones with the loose cushions on the back that look real purdy but are totally uncomfortable.  She had torn a corner off one of the seat cushions and the went to work on one of the back cushions.  Do you know what's inside of them?  Little bitty pieces of foam.  You can't vacuum that shit up, you can't sweep it up, you pretty much have to pick up every little bitty piece BY HAND.  For. The. Next. Six. Months.  When she started on my laundy I finally had enough and told TFHU that he had to do something with her and off she went for 3 weeks to a trainer who had been with the RCMP canine unit.  We weren't allowed to go see her until she was ready to come home which was kind of hard for me as I'd become pretty attached to her even with her problems.

3 long weeks.  For me it seemed an eternity but finally the day came that we could go see her and I'd take a lesson with the trainer (I think he just somehow knew she was going to end up being my dog), and then another week before we could bring her home.  Our lesson went well, with me learning just how to use a pinch collar, how heavy, and at what times (now don't go all animal rights on me, a pinch collar is a tool, and you have to use the right tool for the job at hand and at that time it was the right tool to use).  The next week the lesson went even better than the first and we were able to bring her home with the recommendation that we crate her when we weren't home.  (BTW, that pinch collar never was put to use after she came home, didn't need it)

So we did.  After crating her every time for about a month, I had to run to the store for some little thing and left her loose with the girls.  When I got home she hadn't turned into destructo-dog.  YAY!  I started leaving her for longer periods of time without a hitch and nary a  problem.  She had even started sleeping in her crate during the day with the door open and we ended up taking it right off.

One night we had company stay over and when she got up to use the facilities she went in just fine, but when she was finished, the Bood wouldn't let her out of the bathroom which was right across the hall from the bedroom.  I heard Budda growling and the company saying "Butch, you're scaring me" and had to come to the rescue.  Good dog.  She's definitely not going to let anybody in while we're sleeping !  Another time, TFHU had to go to an early morning meeting and had gone out to start the truck and come back in the house and went in to the bathroom.  Well she heard the truck start and when the bathroom door closed (kinda), she came unglued, charged the door and slapped it back into the drywall and went after him 'til he said "Butch, it's me!".  Wow, talk about sheepish.  She all but turned herself inside-out trying to apologise.  After that one I knew that dog would go to the ends of the earth for me.

There's more Buddha stories, but that's enough for now.  Thanks for reading   D

Carolyn Dawn Johnson

A young lady out of Medicine Hat, Alberta called CDJ by her fans, who is very overlooked by mainstream radio, IMHO.  Her music reaches down and grabs me at my very core.  She's a talented enough musician that Keith Urban has appeared on a few of her albums.  Her latest, "Stop for Me" is just one example of her talent for writing.

... I didn't understand

    That you could have pockets

    Overflowing with determination

    You give it all you got

    With no congratulations

    And still be at the bottom of the hill...

...Sitting on a suitcase

   Crossing fingers counting the days til it arrived

   I was sure that it was coming

   But somehow it just passed me by

   Oh how could I be so naive

   I always thought this train would stop for me...

Says a whole lot to me, especially about the position of women in my chosen profession.

Another is this particular gem.

...You can't jump in the water

    With one foot out and one foot in

    I think I'd rather just be alone

    Than to try and love that way again...

One more crumb

That won't fill me up

One more sip

That won't fill my cup

Don't ask me for another night

'Cause baby I can't

I'm tired of calling cabs in the morning light

With my high heels in my hand...

Sorry if I sond a little maudlin today, Gentle Reader.  I must just be tired

Amazing Grace, Il Divo

Those of you on my personal email list have already seen this one but dang, it really is one of my personal favorites, done just right.  Enjoy   D

from my email inbox this morning

Thanks Dad

I've seen Mr. Rohn speak.  Always a pleasure and a bunch of great stuff to be learned from him.

I LOVE THESE SHORT AND SIMPLE MESSAGES




Some wisdom from J. Rohn



My first mentor, Mr. Shoaff, over a five-year period of time when I was age 25 to 31, taught me some extraordinarily simple things, before his untimely passing at age 49. He only went through the 9th grade in school. He never finished high school, never went to college, never went to a university. So he put his experiences and ideas in very simple language, which, I think for me—a kid from the farms of Idaho—was so important.

When I would say, “This is all the company pays,” Mr. Shoaff would say, “No, that is all they pay you.” I thought, “That is a new way to look at it.” I told him things cost too much. But he said, “No, you can’t afford them.” Well, that was a new concept for me. He promised that if I would improve, then I would qualify for more money. So I learned that we don’t have to work on the company, we have to work on ourselves. Now if it had been technical, I would have missed it. If it had been mystic, I would have backed away. But it was just basic, blunt “a-b-c” stuff that I hadn’t thought of before. For me it was the beginning of what he called “personal development.”

Mr. Shoaff also taught me that life puts some of the more valuable things on the high shelf so that you can’t get to them until you qualify. If you want the things on the high shelf, you must stand on the books you read. With every book you read, you get to stand a little higher.

And the “biggie” that forever had an impact on me: “Success is something you attract by the person you become.” That phrase changed my life. Success is not to be pursued, but to be attracted by the person you become. Put your energy into becoming a better you, the best you. Learn the skills. Practice the skills. Attract the success.

Finally

Having lived on the farm for the first 4 1/2 years of her life, Jazz was definitely not used to people walking by on the street.  (when you live on 33 acres for most of that life, there isn't anybody walking by on the street)  When we moved to the city she started taking up a position on the couch and 'surveying her domain' which didn't really bother me until she started barking every time someone was walking by, just about elevating me out of my chair here at the compute.  GEES LOUISE, would you knock that off?
At first I told her "Quiet, they're allowed to be there." (which worked well for The Buddha), then it was "QUIET", after that it was "QUIET and get off!" and then it was chase her around the house trying to kill her (just kidding, by the time I would have caught up to her she wouldn't have remembered what the heck I was chasing her for). 
Well, guess what?  Just 10 minutes ago I was sitting here and she had assumed the position when someone walked by.  All I heard was a low growl from her and when I turned around and looked her hackles were standing straight up and she was looking out the window but NO BARK!  Of course I told her that she was a good girl, that's what I was originally looking for.
It's only been a year and a half but yay, maybe we have that behavior changed.

I hate barking F$%&)%#@ dogs.  I don't mind if they're barking for a reason such as an intruder or while trying to get the other to play but they really don't need to vocalise for no good reason, even my Pomeranian was that way.  Like children, they should be seen and not heard.
Wow, it just happened again.  Shhhh, let's don't jinx it, ok?

from my email inbox this morning

Thanks Dad.

Be Committed to Keeping Your Personal and Professional Life in Balance by Denis Waitley


It is so important to be living in prime time, rather than watching TV in prime time. On your way to success make certain you grow friendships, not just bank and mutual fund accounts. Life is a collection of memories, not of material things. The Egyptian pharaohs were buried with all their treasures, and were mummified in hopes that they could enjoy their bounty in the next life. But we are only caretakers of possessions. There is a big difference between standard of living and quality of life. Standard of living is based on income earned. Quality of life is the enjoyment of the millions of minutes in between accomplishments.

Having money is only one aspect of wealth. To the sick person, wealth is health. To the lonely person, wealth is someone to talk to and share with. To the estranged person, wealth is hearing words of love and forgiveness.

Borrowing the free verse style from Brother Jeremiah's classic poem, I'd Pick More Daisies, here are a few things I'd do, the second time around.

I'd laugh at my misfortunes more. Spend more time counting my blessings than my blemishes. Spend more time playing with my children and grandchildren and less time watching performers in the arena. More time enjoying what I have, less time thinking about the things I don't have. If I could live my life again, I'd walk in the rain more without an umbrella and listen less to weather reports. I'd spend more time looking at trees and climbing them, less time flipping through magazines made from dead trees. I'd spend more time fully involved in the present moment, less time remembering and anticipating. I'd smile more, frown less.

And most of all I'd be more spontaneous and active, less hesitant and subdued. When some spur of the moment idea came up to go hiking, playing Frisbee, coloring Easter eggs, singing in a chorus, going kayaking, or watching an eclipse, I'd be less likely to sit in my chair objecting, "It's not in our plan."

I'd be inclined to jump up and run out the door next time and say, "Yes, we can!" Although I can't live my life again, I'm still going to live the new way every day any way. I'll never have all the moments I've missed, but I do have all the time remaining.

Action Idea: Choose one activity this month that you really want to engage in, but that you have been putting off because it isn't a priority. Schedule that activity in your planner, as if it were a "must do" business or financial commitment. When you have done it, while you are still feeling good, schedule one for next month, and do it as long as you live