“We Don’t Need a Damn Dog!”

I don’t have children, I have dogs!

It took nearly four years of prompting, prodding, poking, pleading and pushing to get my husband to agree to adding a dog to our life. Finally, around Valentines Day 2011 I was able to get the stars to align.

In 2008, I was working an event and I met a dog breeder. She had a baby English Bulldog in her arms and of course I had to ask to pet her and got to talking to the woman; telling her how much I loved French Bulldogs, where I had first encountered them, etc. She said that she and her husband bred both English and French Bulldogs and she gave me one of her cards. I tucked the card away and only casually mentioned to my husband that I had played with a baby bulldog that day and got the usual response, ” We don’t need a damn dog“.

The business card ended up in the bottom of my work bag for more than a year; until one day I was cleaning out the bag because I was getting a new laptop at work and wanted to carry it in the bag. I came across the card and popped it into my wallet.

Several months went by and I happened to pull out the card when I was getting out my debit card to pay for something online. I decided to pull up their website to see what the cost of a Frenchie would be, I had heard they were expensive. Once on the site I knew I had heard correctly. They didn’t have any puppies available at that time, but I looked at a bunch of pictures of some past puppies and their parents. I showed a couple to my husband, he admitted that they were cute, but again said “We don’t need a damn dog“.

I would pull that card out every few months, look at the puppies, see if they had any available for adoption, show them to my husband and hear the same thing. “We don’t need a damn dog“.

Sometime around the end of 2010, I started looking at their website almost daily because they had posted a note that they had two new litters of Frenchies being born and I wanted to see the new puppies. As I remember the two litters were quite big; 6 in one and 7 in the other. So many cute puppies and they would be available around Christmas time, of course.

I watched as each little cutie was adopted by another family, each time telling my husband; “oh no, another one has been adopted can’t we please get a puppy.” And again he would say “We don’t need a damn dog” and now he added “especially at that price“.

It was the around the end of January and I was just finishing up another event out-of-town. I had some time to kill at the end of the day right before we could start packing things up. I was wasting some time looking at email, Facebook and then I thought to pop over to look at the puppies. I was surprised, they still had two little ones left, both appeared to be very, very small they were around 3 months old and still hadn’t been adopted. So on a whim I sent the breeder a note. I mentioned that I had met her all those years ago and that I had been longingly watching all the puppies get adopted and saw that they had two still left. I asked if they might be willing to work with me on the price, because the regular price was just out of my budget. I sent it off figuring that they would probably say “no negotiations on the price and thanks for looking“. I packed up and headed home.

The next morning I got an email. “Thank you for your interest in our frenchies, I think we can negotiate on the price. I need to share your offer with my husband. I will contact you shortly.” My husband was up watching the news, I was still lying around in bed. But I got up, so excited about the possibility of the new puppy, I kind of forgot that I hadn’t event spoken to him about it. I kept checking my phone as I got ready. I took my shower, checked the phone, dried my hair, checked my phone, brushed my teeth, checked my phone. Finally, the reply came. “Yes, my husband agreed to your offer. Which puppy would you like to adopt? Both are female” She offered to send me a link to some video of the puppies. I replied; “Great I will show them to my husband and get back in touch.”

So, then I had to think about my approach with my husband. I decided to tell him about the great deal I had the chance to get on a puppy and would he please just look at the pictures and the videos that she was sending me and to just keep an open mind. Please. His reply was “We don’t need a damn dog” but this time it was accompanied by “But I will take a look at the pictures and videos”

Maddie the day we brought her home.

Then he saw her, tiny, cinnamon brown with a little black mask on her face hopping around her sister. Those cute bat ears and a tiny tail that looked like it belonged to a baby dear. I couldn’t believe it, he said “OK, that one!”

Within minutes of that “ok” I made the deal, paid the adoption fee and made arrangements to pick her up the next morning. I wasn’t going to give him a chance to change his mind.

We picked her up in the Denny’s parking lot just off I-5 halfway between Vancouver, where the breeder lived, and Olympia where we lived. She was so tiny, I could hold her in one hand, she trembled when I took her in my arms, but soon snuggled up next to me under my coat and stayed there for the next two hours. Snoring, sleeping and snuggling with her new human. I don’t think I was ever as happy as I was that day.

And so much for all the rules my husband laid out when he agreed to the dog. Not on the furniture, no sleeping in the bed, no feeding her from the table, you walk her, feed her, etc, etc. He was puppy whipped in a day. She was sleeping on his lap while he watched T.V., he was singing her to sleep at night in her crate, giving her scraps from the table and within a month she was sleeping in the bed and not the crate. She has helped him lose 20 pounds, cut his blood-pressure medicine in half and I think just in general really cheered him up.

They say people with dogs are happier and live longer and I believe it!

What about you – do you have pets?

Clear Lake

My little brother and me sitting outside in the sun at my grandparents home in Clear Lake, Washington

So much has changed about the beautiful area where I was lucky enough to grow up. But parts of it have stayed very close to the same, like the sleepy little town where my grandfather still lives, Clear Lake, Washington, current population 1,002. There is still one tavern, one tiny grocery store, one gas station, the post office, the grade school and the church. And one of my favorite memories from my child hood the local swimming spot on the lake. The entrance has been fixed up, in my day it was a little wooden hut that you passed through and paid your quarter to swim for the day. Now it is a cinderblock building with a fancy sign. I have no idea what the fee for the day is – $5 bucks? But kids still swim in the lake for now, play in the sand and eat popsicle to cool off.

My grandfathers shake mill is still standing, well most of it is still standing, but it is now a small industrial park with a couple of mechanical and welding shops. It doesn’t have the wonderful sweet smell of cedar chips that used to fill the air as you drove by, just the humming of machines. Whenever I smell cedar I always think of my grandfather.

Mr. Parker, the old owner of the Clear Lake Market, has retired now. So all the fresh meat and fish that he either butchered himself or had brought in from local fishermen has been replaced by a little cold bin with a few plastic wrapped packages of ground beef, sad little steaks and some chicken pieces and a huge selection of beer and wine. There are bars on the front windows now too. That makes me sad. I remember my grandparents going on vacation for three weeks each spring and never bothering locking the doors to the place. Now my grandfather locks it up tight and has the neighbor keep an eye on the place when ever he is out of town.

But the tiny grade-school is still there where I attended first grade. It still has a funny two story building with the cafeteria on the first floor and the gym on the second floor. Parents still watch their children play sports or perform in plays and adults still use the basketball court in the evenings to keep fit.

The first home I ever owned is in the town too on School Drive. That house was also the first home my grandparents ever owned as well. There were three other owners and nearly 40 years between us, but still a funny coincidence I think.

Clear Lake still has a volunteer fire department that responds to residence in need for fires, health concerns, car wrecks and other emergencies. Almost every home with an able bodied adult used to have a scanner/radio in their home so they could respond to calls for help. I hope that is still true today.

I had some of the best times of my life in this tiny town; swimming at the lake, Christmas parties filled with gifts and treats, yummy salmon bar-b-q’s on the 4th of July and other family celebrations. I learned to ride a horse, swim, mail my first letter, ride a bike, play cribbage and gin and to mix my first gin and tonic too.

Some of the biggest losses of my life have come here too. The passing of my beloved great-grandmother Kate who taught me to enjoy music and dancing and who always had a little sweet treat for me. My dad passed away at a very young age while I was living in this town. I lost my grandma here too after she and my grandfather moved back to the farm after living by the golf course for nearly 20 years. And not too long ago I lost my sweet uncle who lived here too.

A tiny place with a very big influence on my life. I am so thankful that it is still here and that so many people I love are here still too!

Is there a place that has had a big impact on your life?

Feels Like Home

I’m home tonight, by home, I mean the place that I grew up. It still feels like home even with all the changes that have taken place over the last 40 odd years.

The place has grown up, like me or maybe out, like me. Lots of sprawl, lots of strip malls, fast food, Starbucks, Costco and all the modern conveniences are here now. We used to have to go to the big city for most of this stuff – either north to Bellingham or south to Seattle/Everett.

The house I lived in as a baby across from the college is now a mexican restaurant, but my grandparents little farm is still pretty close to the same. My highschool has gotten bigger, but some of the berry fields where I earned my first pay checks still grow sweet berries. The local grocery store where we shopped is gone, but “Big Scoop” our local ice cream parlor is still here.

It still feels like home even when I have lived more of my life other places now. Maybe it is just the concentrated history I have with the place, lots of firsts; first jobs, first kisses, first dates, first drives, first heartbreak, first loss, first loves.

Where do you feel at home?

Indy

Kissing the Bricks!

A few years ago I traveled with my little brother to visit one of our sisters in Indiana. We’ve visited many times before for family reunions, graduations, first communions and to attend the Indy 500.

I was never a racing fan but when you have friends or family that live in Indianapolis, inevitably, you end up going to “the race”. That’s all it took and I was hooked. My first race was 2001, Sarah Fisher was the only woman in the race that year and of course I had to cheer for her, because, chicks have to stick together. Since that first race we have been back 5 times and every time it is still a thrill; the mass of people converging on one place, people laughing and talking about their favorite team or favorite driver, the same street hawkers and evangelizers back every time trying to sell you a trinket, t-shirt or god.

During our fall visit the three of us were sitting around the kitchen with a small TV on in the corner listening to the last race of the year in Las Vegas, when a terrible crash occurred just a few minutes into the race. Dan Weldon had to be air-lifted out of the track, it was bad, it would be announced that he had died a short while later. It was my brother who wanted to go lay some flowers at the gate of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway the next day.

Dan Weldon’s Memorial at IMS
Photo: Shari Reiter

We ended up there with several dozen other fans who wanted to pay their respects. It was a sad day, he had left a young family, he was so young and he was such a great personality on the race circuit. Even though he was only in a few races that year he won the Indy 500 in a crazy finish that had a rookie crashing in the wall in the fourth turn of that last lap to give Dan the win. He will always be one of my favorite drivers.

After we had laid the flowers, talked to several other mourners and watched in sadness the growing memorial we decided to go tour the speedway and the museum and to see Dan’s face on the trophy.

In all my visits I had never gone to the museum or toured the speedway. The museum includes so many cars from the nearly 100 years of racing at the track, pictures of all the past winners and the Borg-Warner Trophy with each of the past winners faces on it.

Borg-Warner Trophy

The picture above is of Dan in victory circle celebrating his win and the trophy behind it.

When you go on the tour you also get to tour the track, the press boxes and the coolest part actually go out on to the track. They aways stop at the “yard of bricks” so you can take a picture and touch the bricks. My little brother and I had to kiss the bricks, just like the winners of the races do. My sister laughed as she took our picture.

It was a sad day, but one filled with love and appreciation for my family.

Remember

What do you remember from your childhood?

My brothers, sisters and I, on the rare occasions we get a chance to get together, inevitably end up sitting around talking about our lives as kids, laughing about the silly things we did and if we got caught by our parents or not. Like my sister’s joy ride in my mom’s Porsche(not caught), my little brothers car wrecks and speeding tickets(always caught), all of us rolling out of our family van at one of the road races my parents were running in one sunny weekend or some other memory that struck one of us.

One thing that always strikes me as odd when the five of us get to talking is that it almost seems that we grew up in different households. We really have few memories that we all go – “yea – remember when”, it is usually one or two of us recalling something and the other three going “hum – I don’t remember that where were we”. Like the van in the picture, somehow we got on the topic of the van and my little brother was sure it was white with a blue stripe, but I always remembered it as white with a red stripe, like an ambulance. I think I remembered it that way, because I was a little embarrassed to be riding around in an ambulance. But he was sure it was white with a blue stripe and then postulated that we had two vans.

I remember we were in the “ambulance” the first time I called my step-dad “dad”. It seemed like a pretty big thing then, but it passed without any comment or notice by anyone, but I do think there was a little bit of a smile on his face, just a hint of one. And I do remember that moment.

But so many others I can’t recall. Things I repeated still stick, like watching Laurence Welk with my great-grandma Kate in her big white leather recliner while she smoked cigarettes. ( I ended up with a scar above one of my eyes from a too quick jump into the recliner before the cigarette could be moved out of the way). I remember stealing the chocolate-carmel diet candies that my grandma Buddy always had around the house, she was constantly on a diet, probably never lost weight because we were stealing all her diet candy. My grandpa always used to push his false teeth half-way out of his mouth and scare us kids and then he would pull them back in and we would all laugh. Building tunnels in the hay in the barn and playing in there for hours, which is funny because I am kind of claustrophobic now and the thought of the hay tunnels makes me a little bit queasy. Summer camping trips throughout the pacific northwest and Canada always with our final few days at the KOA campground in Winthrop, Washington. At the KOA we would get to swim in the pool or run wild through the campground and on our last night we would all get cleaned up and go for a nice dinner at the Sun Mountain Lodge.

18 years as a child, teen and young adult and these are some of the family things I remember 30 years later.

Do you and your siblings share a lot of memories or are they different? What do you remember from your childhood?

Random & Rhyme

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