As some of my Facebook friends know, we took the door off of Keely’s bedroom last week. Thank you all for the encouragement and support, I loved reading all your comments.
My sweet little nine year old girl has a tendency to lose her temper, stomp down the hallway, and slam her door. If that wasn’t bad enough, she then locks it. If the reason for the stomp, slam and lock is because she has had an argument with a friend, it means her friends are left standing at her door saying “Keely let me in!” This in turn bugs the heck out of me and Steve if we are trying to watch TV, read, or have a conversation.
Even worse, if the stomp, slam and lock is because she is ticked off at her parents, then either Steve or I are the ones in the hallway saying “Keely, open the door!” There is a direct correlation to her locking that door and then getting “stuck to the refrigerator”.
Did I mention that my sweet little girl has a temper? She can be a wee bit strong willed. Perhaps she was a somewhat spoiled when we first made the move to Colorado…
She can be a little bit of a total shit in fact.
Steve came up with the brilliant idea of making Keely stand in front of the refrigerator whenever she would throw one of her hissy fits. I guess the refrigerator became our version of the time out chair. The time in front of the refrigerator gave her time to get control of herself, and then we could have a conversation with her about her transgression.
When my son David was here over Christmas a year ago, she told him that she liked living in Colorado, but she did not like being “stuck to the refrigerator”. David asked her what that was, and she informed him “I get stuck to the refrigerator whenever I do something I’m not supposed to do. And it’s NOT fun!”
Score one for the parents.
A month or so ago Keely did the stomp, slam and lock. Steve told her the next time that happened he was going to take the door off her room. (We had talked about it after the previous temper outburst) So last week, while a friend was over, Keely did it again. As I was chewing her out about it, Steve walked in from work. She and her friend went downstairs to play, blissfully unaware that her world was about to change.
An hour later, after dinner and more playing, she went down the hall to her room.
“Mom! Where is my door?!”
“It’s in the garage Keely. Steve took it off. You were warned.”
“Mom! Steve! I HAVE to have my door!”
“Sorry babe, not going to happen. We will let you know when you can have it back. Depends on how you act, starting now.”
“You are the WORST parents EVER!” Stomp, stomp, stomp downstairs. (No door slamming though)
The next morning as we were waiting for the bus we talked about it. I told her that she could depend on us, she could trust us. If we tell her we are going to do something we do it. Sometimes that means we go places, or do really fun activities. Sometimes it means we take the door off her room, because we told her we would. I pointed out that Steve had been gone for 12 hours when he came home that evening, and then took 30 minutes to take the door off. Not because it was fun, and certainly not something he wanted to do. But because he had told her he would do it the next time she did a stomp, slam and lock. And we keep our word.
She didn’t say much. But I could see the wheels turning in her little head.
Over the course of the next few days the door was not mentioned again. Keely was an angel. She did everything we asked the first time we asked. She fed the horses and the dogs, gave Brandi her pills. Did her laundry, folded our clothes and placed them neatly on the bed. Cleaned her room, loaded the dishwasher.
Friday we put the door back up. When she came home from school, she had a friend with her. Nothing was said, we didn’t make a big deal about it, and neither did she.
She knows that we love her. She knows that she can depend on us. She knows that we are going to do what we think is the right thing, even if it is difficult for us and for her.
My other kids are 33 and 28. I’ve taught martial arts to a lot of kids. I’ve heard and seen a lot.
I know that we still have puberty and teen age years to get through. It’s not going to be fun; it’s not going to be pretty. We will just do the best we can, be consistent, and love her. Pray. And keep our fingers crossed.
Kira and Keely
We went to see Red Tails last evening, the newly released movie about the Tuskegee Airmen, an all black fighter pilot squadron. The theater was in Colorado Springs, which is home to several Army bases, NORAD (Cheyenne Mountain) and the Air Force Academy. In other words, a military town. The theater was packed for the 4:30 showing.
In front of us in the line for tickets were two young men, very spit and polished in their Air Force Academy uniforms. One was black, the other white. Two buddies, out on a Saturday night to watch a movie that was part of the history of their branch of military service. I would have loved to talk to both of them after the movie.
Watching a movie about flying with a pilot is a unique experience. When Steve and I went to see Avatar, I looked over several times to see him maneuvering his hand like a plane, taking it through the turns and lifts. We saw Avatar three times in three week because of the 3D experience.
For sure we will see Red Tails again, but will wait for the next showing at home since it is not in 3D. But I did look over several times and see Steve’s hand maneuvering through the flight scenes. Of course he also also leaned over several times to tell me what kind of plane was on the screen.
His take on the movie? Great flying, great special effects, great story.
I agree.
But there is another element to the movie, the story of racial prejudice in our country, in our military, during this war. The words and the attitude made me cringe. These young men were risking their lives for their country, yet were not allowed in the “whites only” officers club.
I think most of us would like to think that this kind of prejudice has died a well deserved death.
Kira is my “daughter from another mother of a different color”. She was one of my star Taekwondo students, an employee, and now a dear friend. She has deployed twice to Iraq, is full time Army,and I am as proud as I can be of her. I couldn’t help but think of her as I watched Red Tails.
Kira and I roomed together at The Adams Mark one weekend several years ago. We were in Dallas for the Nationals, which included a banquet and dance as well as a tournament. After the banquet was over, a group of us headed back to our rooms. When we got to our door, I realized I had misplaced my room key card. Since I’d had several glasses of wine, I decided to take my shoes off (they were killing me) sit down in the hallway, and let Kira go get a new room key.
She came back without the key. The lady at the reception desk would not give her one because she didn’t have any identification. She was told there was nothing they could do for her. Kira was teary eyed when she told me this.
Well. I went marching downstairs, and the same lady was at the desk. I told Kira to hang back. I explained to the woman that I had lost my key. She asked for identification, I told her I had none. She then volunteered that someone would have to let me into the room and then I would have to show him my ID. ”Fine, I can do that. Now, why didn’t you tell that to my daughter over there when she told you she was locked out of her room?” You should have seen the look on her face when Kira walked towards us. She of course did not have a good answer, so I asked to speak to her manager. Suffice it to say he understand how damned mad I was at the way Kira had been treated.
I don’t know if Kira and her brother Dominic (who is serving in the Navy and I am so stinking proud of him too) experience prejudice in today’s military. I need to ask them about that. But if I had to guess? I’d say that prejudice is still there, certainly more subtle than what we saw on the movie screen last night, but perhaps even more damaging because we are supposed to be smarter and more enlightened now.
Are we?
Filed under: Life
It never ceases to amaze me how weird people can be. Some people obviously have nothing better to do on a Saturday night than troll the web and write nutty diatribes pushing their narrow minded agendas. And they are stupid enough to think that I’m going to help them circulate their crazy rants by approving their comments. Seriously? If you want to express yourself, get your own blog. It’s easy to do. WordPress.com.
Filed under: Life | Tags: bff, friends, self defense classes, separate ways, separation, yoga instructor
Steve and I had a lot of discussions about happiness before our move to Colorado. He was concerned about me leaving my family, my business, and my friends. I had put down deep roots in Little Rock, the place I had called home since I was 8 years old. Because of my involvement in the martial arts and the self-defense classes I taught, it was unusual for me not to run into someone I knew whenever we went out.
Neither of us knew a soul when we made the move to Penrose in August of 2010. I have to say there was something exhilarating about that for me. It was good to be anonymous, it was good not to be “Ms. Ray”.
During those introspective times before we left Little Rock, I realized that most, if not all, of the people I called friends were in my life because of Little Rock Martial Arts. I’m cynical enough to know that some of those friendships were based on my position as instructor.
We went back to Little Rock several months ago. We got together with some of my Taekwondo buddies one night, and it was really great to see them. After catching up on life events for the last year, we hugged and went our separate ways.
I find that I have absolutely no interest in what is happening at my old school. When I handed over the keys to the new owner, I closed that door and locked it tight. I will never regret the opportunity I had to be involved in so many lives and the friendships I made. But that chapter of my life is over.
Facebook is great. During the first months in Colorado, keeping up with friends on Facebook saved my life. It was tough, I have to admit, not having anyone at all to socialize with here. But then I met Lisa who lives across the street and I now go riding with. Then there is Marie, my yoga instructor. We had coffee several times a week before she moved to Florida to live at an Ashram. But Marie introduced me to Paula, who is now my BFF. We talk on the phone several times a week, go shopping together, and will be making a trip to Napa for her birthday. Paula introduced me to Susan, my massage/physical therapist and horsewoman extraordinaire. There are several people in my yoga and Kenpo classes that I think are good possibilities for friendship.
Steve, Michelle and Dennis
One day Steve and I were having lunch in Colorado Springs. He was totally ignoring me while he typed away on phone. He was having a discussion about photography with my old boyfriend Dennis, who is my friend on Facebook. I had not seen Dennis in 30 years or so, but we reconnected through Facebook right before I left Little Rock. I suggested they “friend” each other so that they did not have to keep having conversations in my posts. That they did, and now they have great conversations about a myriad of subjects. We had lunch with Dennis when we were in Little Rock so he and Steve could meet. We are hoping that one of these days Dennis and his wife Debbie will be able to make it out here.
I don’t feel a responsibility to “be nice” because of my position as a school owner. If someone rubs me the wrong way, I don’t have to socialize with them. It’s a new thing for me, choosing my friends like this.
Michelle, Heidi and Carla
Several friends from Little Rock have been to visit. Carla and Heidi have each been here several times. The last trip they stayed with us they met each other for the first time. Now they are good friends and hang out together in Little Rock. I feel like a successful matchmaker!
Theresa used to work with me in the surety business. We reconnected through Facebook. I hadn’t seen her for 12 or 13 years, but she and Greg stayed with us at Thanksgiving. Nothing at all in common now except our past work history, but we are still friends.
Lunch with the Terry and Mandy Brake
And then there are the Brakes. I met Terry and Mandy at a dude ranch twenty years ago. They have been to visit in Little Rock several times, Charles, my mom and the kids made several visits to their wonderful home in Wiltshire, England. Steve and I stayed with them in Wiltshire two years ago. Steve and I were so glad to host them this summer for two glorious weeks. We had a blast. It may be a few years before we are physically in the same place again, but I know we will take up right where we left off.
There are circles to friendships. My martial arts friends were my inner circle when martial arts were my life. We are still friends, but the intimacy and closeness of day to day involvement is not there. Some friends have moved, or our children have grown up. We don’t attend the same church anymore. That’s what I love about Facebook. I can still be in contact with those friends.
Some friendships cross over time, careers, distance and marriages. Some don’t.
And that’s OK.
Filed under: Life in Colorado | Tags: Beaver Creek, Colorado, cowboys, Haunted Stagecoach House, Horseback
Michelle and Maestro at the Haunted Stagecoach House
There is an area called Beaver Creek that runs along the edge of Penrose, Colorado where we live. The creek used to be a whole lot bigger than it is now, its dry most of the year. It also used to be the route for the stagecoaches to run back in day.
Last year Steve flew over the area and spotted a road. The next day we were out in the Wrangler searching for it. After a few hours we found the road-path. It is NOT easy to find. We bounced down the rock filled one lane dirt road on the side of a cliff, Keely yelling “woohoo!” all the way down. That was the first time we saw the brick building open to the sky. We took some photos and then drove over to the butte a few miles away. Climbing that slate filled hill is a whole other story.
We found out the cool looking building was an old stagecoach house. Legend has it that it is also haunted. I don’t know about that, but it is a really cool building in a unique setting that brings images from all those western movies instantly to mind.
Last week my friend Lisa and I decided to ride to the Haunted Stage Coach. She had never seen it. As the crow flies, the area is not more than a mile or two from our house. But, while Penrose is laid out on a very logical grid of numbered and alphabetically named streets, the logic doesn’t work. We use the expression “you can’t get there from here” all the time when we are trying to get from point A to point B in our little town. The roads just stop. They don’t go all the through. Well, some of them do, but you don’t know which ones until you drive them. Then you have to remember which ones do and which ones don’t. Not so bad if you are in a car, not so much fun if you are miles away from home on a horse and the sun is going down and it’s getting cold. Worse when one of you (Lisa) really has to pee and you are on a 16 hand horse that you can get back up on very easily.
Did I mention it was really hard to find the road to the Stagecoach House? We didn’t make it that day. Lisa called her husband Ted; he drove over and got on her horse Mister to ride him home. Lisa hightailed out of there in the car to get home and to a bathroom.
Yesterday we decided to try it again. We went a different route through Penrose, making a lot of U turns because the road just stopped at someone’s driveway. But we eventually found the road and made it to the Haunted Stage Coach House. Lisa was on a shorter horse, so we got down and walked around, posing for a few pictures to prove that we had been there.
As we were getting ready to mount up a cowboy rode up on a big sorrel horse. Now you have to understand, we are in the middle of this huge wash of dirt, sand and rocks. Cottonwoods line the creek bed; there are cliffs all around us. And here comes this guy on a horse out of nowhere.
We all introduced ourselves. Jim said he rode the area a lot, as he was training horses for folks. He was looking for people to ride with. We both volunteered. He has a horse trailer and likes to go to different areas to ride. Can you say a dream come true for me? He told us that we could ride the canyon quite a ways on horseback, so we followed him down the trail.
Jim told us about himself. He had spent his life raising cattle. Had owned several feed stores, which his children had now. He had been married for 59 years and he was 80 years old. I just about fell off my horse when he told me his age. Suffice it to say he does not look or act like he is 80. This was, by anyone’s definition, a real cowboy.
As we went into the shadows at the base of a cliff we realized it was already 3PM. It gets dark and cold pretty fast out here in the west, so we all agreed it was a good time to head back. We had a good two hours of riding to get home.
As we were climbing up to road to civilization Jim asked if our horses would load in a trailer. I knew Maestro would, Lisa thought Little Bit would. Our cowboy savior then suggested that we load our horses in his trailer and he would drive us home. It did not take much thought or discussion for us to agree that it was a WONDERFUL idea!
The horses loaded like a dream. We made the return trip in the luxury of an F-250 with a heater and it took us about 10 minutes.
Many of us women dream about the knight in shining armor riding up to rescue us. Yesterday I was rescued by an 80 year old cowboy riding a sorrel horse. With a horse trailer.
How cool is that?
Filed under: Life in Colorado | Tags: Canon City, Colorado, hiking, Red Rock Canyon, UBBT
One of my favorite things to do in Little Rock was climb Pinnacle Mountain and run around the base trail. My love affair with Pinnacle began when I started the UBBT (Ultimate Black Belt Test) in 2009. One of the requirements of the test was participation in an Eco Adventure which would involve a lot a hiking. While I was pretty good at gym conditioning, I had not done a lot of outdoor hiking. I had to overcome some fears about heights and falling to my death, but with a lot of persistence and some encouragement from Steve I got there.
On New Year’s Day in 2010 we climbed Pinnacle with a few of my TKD students and Keely.
Yesterday, New Year’s Day 2012 found us in Red Rock Canyon. What a contrast to just two years before. We now live in Colorado and cannot believe how lucky we are to call this beautiful state home. Keely has become much more experienced at hiking and climbing and she doesn’t whine much at all. I don’t feel like crawling on all fours instead of walking when the rocks get steep. We have done some really fabulous hikes all over the country but there really wasn’t great areas close to home. 
Of course some things are not going to change. Keely and Steve are still going to scare the crap out of me getting way to close to the edge of a cliff with a 600 foot drop. I’m not ever going to be the chick on the TV commercial that wants to climb that needle-like rock a gazillion feet in the air.
My surgeon told me when I had hip replacement that I would never be able to run again. That didn’t really upset me; running has never been my thing even when I was doing 40 miles a week. I just thought it was plain boring really.
Then I found that I loved running the base trails at Pinnacle. For some reason trail running doesn’t make my hip feel like it’s coming out of its socket like running on pavement does. I love the challenge of dodging rocks, jumping over obstacles, ducking under branches, knowing that if I fall it is going to hurt like hell. There were some trails around here that were ok…but nothing really great.
I haven’t found a place I connected with like Pinnacle Mountain until yesterday.
This New Year’s Day we found Red Rock Canyon (thank you Paula!) Rock Canyon is breathtaking, similar to Garden of the Gods but without the tourists. We spent three hours there yesterday, Keely in tow and joined by Steve’s coworker Mark. There are lots of dirt roads and trails, and beautiful red rock formations to climb. The park is huge and the terrain is varied, and it’s just outside of Canon City.
I am in heaven
Yes, we are buying half a pig. My friend Paula asked if we wanted to share a pig with her and Kurt. It’s been raised without hormones. Looking at the blank look on my face (she gets that a lot from me) she explained that we would be sharing the finished product after it had been butchered. Oh. Well sure, sounds good. We’ve got room in the freezer. So tomorrow I call the guy that butchers the pig to tell him what we want. That’s a first for me, sharing a pig.
Paula also introduced me to her chickens a couple of weeks ago, much to Steve’s chagrin. Now I’ve got the place picked out in the backyard, all we need is a chicken house and pen. And the chickens.
Steve grew up on a real farm in Alabama, and he is definitely not a fan of chickens. It’s a case of familiarity breeds contempt I think. I grew up in the country with two dyed in the wool city slickers for parents and have never retrieved an egg from the source. We have agreed to give it a try. Keely is excited, and I can’t wait to see her face when she goes out to gather eggs for the first time.
So chickens are in our future. I’ve got some decisions to make, like how many and what kind. I’ll be talking to Paula, my expert on all the cool stuff that comes with living in Southern Colorado. I’ll keep you posted.
Filed under: Uncategorized
I’m sitting in the sunroom with Mom, who is visiting for a few weeks (months?) It started snowing earlier today, and I think Mom has only left the sunroom for trips to the bathroom. The rest of the time, she is on the couch, a nice soft cozy throw on her lap, watching the snow.
We have a panoramic view of the mountains, and never tire of watching the clouds, light and beautiful sky. And then there are the birds. We had birdfeeders out for her first trip. She has been enjoying the addition of the bird bath. Well, it’s a bird bath but also a water feature for watering the birds. It was one of the first things we bought after we got settled into the house
We now have flocks of birds in our backyard. And my Mom enjoys every minute of it.
She is fascinated by the birds. I’ve shown her how to look them up in Steve’s bird book. She has a set of binoculars on the table beside her. I have to laugh every time I see her peering through the binoculars at the birds. I don’t think she had ever looked through binoculars until her first trip out here. I had to show her how to adjust the focus. Now the binoculars are the first thing she looks for when she comes into the sunroom. She has a new hobby at age 85. How cool is that?
I enjoy watching her. I enjoy having this time with my Mom. She sits at the bar and talks when I cook, we chat over chai lattes in the sunroom. We talk about everything from her life in the Navy with my dad to how Keely is doing at her new school.
Everyone loves my mom. They always have. I remember getting totally ticked off at Chandra, my best friend in high school; because she spent hours talking to my mom rather than doing whatever it was that I wanted to do. Old boyfriends still ask about her, as do former coworkers and anyone else that ever came in contact with her.
Marie, my good friend and yoga instructor, came over for dinner Saturday night. It was a girl’s night, as Steve was out of town. We sat for hours laughing and talking. And Mom told her stories.
I took my friend Lisa to yoga on Friday; we stopped by the house after so she could meet my mom. She ended up staying for over an hour, laughing at the stories that Mom kept coming up with. The next day, going to yoga again, she raved about how funny and energetic my mom is. She told me she could see where I got my energy and humor.
I take that as a compliment. I don’t know if I would have felt that way twenty years ago, but I do now.
I realize that I’ve always been totally confident when introducing mom to anyone, knowing that they would like her. Now, that may not sound like much, but think about it. Can you say that about everyone you know, or are related to? Probably not. I couldn’t say that about ….well, lots of people.
She smiles. She tells funny stories with a self-deprecating humor. She’s smart, likes to read, and keeps up with the news. She has absolutely no sense of direction, and can get lost in a convenience store. She loves, but you do not want to cross her. I’ve been on the receiving end of a few “Let me tell you something Missy” kind of conversations and I didn’t like it a bit. I know that she loves me and would fight to the death for me.
We lost Dad last year. She is aware of the passage of time, as am I. We’ve talked about the songs she wants played at her funeral, I’ve told her I expect her to live to 100 but I’ll make a note about them anyway.
But then there are the stories.
We do realize that there will be a funeral in the future. She started listing all the stories she wants me to tell at her service, asking that I write them down. Now there is no way in hell I’m going to be able to get up at a service and tell Mom’s stories without choking up. But those stories are important. They tell the history of my family, my parents’ marriage, my childhood as well as that of my siblings. I know there is no way I could tell them as well as she can. So what we are going to do is video Mom. I’m going to dig out the video camera and start following her around, capturing the sparkle and smile as she tells her stories.
As she would say, “straight from the horse’s mouth”.
Brandi is our five month old mastiff. If you are familiar with this giant breed, you know that at this stage in her development she is a lanky pony look alike. She has a zany fun way of looking at the world. Everything is new and intriguing, be it Steve putting on his socks or helping him feed the birds. We laugh constantly at her expressions and, yes, her clumsy mishaps.
Bojangles is our seven year old Boston Terrier, a true gentleman. He loves Brandi, and even the cat Smokie Joe. He is stoic about Smokie putting him in headlocks, he just looks at us with an expression that reads…”Do I really have to put up with this?” as Smokie crawls all over his head. He plays tug of war with Brandi; of course he loses every time with the fifty pound weight difference. But Bo is a true wuss, and detests anything cold or wet. If it is cold or raining, we have to push him outside and stand guard at the door to keep him from doing a u turn right back inside. Sometimes, yes, we carry him out in the field to save time. With enough prodding, he will reluctantly venture out far enough to do his business. Misery is visible in every line of his body and he returns to the door as fast as he can. He will then scramble onto the couch and cover himself with his blanket.
We got slammed yesterday with snow and cold. The snow accumulation in our area was only a few inches, but the cold was very real…below zero at night and single digits in the day.
Yesterday Steve came in from taking the dogs out with a new story. It seems Brandi did her normal “oh this is sooooo cool!” reaction when she first saw the snow. . Joyfully she bounced outside, ears, lips and tail flying. She ran in circles, sniffing, tasting, bucking; full of glee at the new adventure.
Bo, however, took a few steps before it dawned on him that the ground was covered with the hateful cold stuff. He immediately tried to return to the warm house. Steve directed him several times back out into the frozen stuff. As he was returning from getting the paper, Steve noticed something new…Bo was lying on his stomach in the snow, with all four legs elevated from the ground. Yes, he was in a Superman Flying Pose in the snow. Evidently he preferred his stomach and chest in the snow rather than his feet. Crazy, huh?
It’s all in the attitude. Brandi and Bo were in the snow for the same amount of time. Brandi considered it great fun, and had a blast. Her feet were pogo sticks and I’m sure she never thought about, or even felt, the cold snow. Bo on the other hand started off with a bad attitude and had a thoroughly miserable time. He came inside with cold feet and a frozen chest and belly. And he couldn’t understand what we found so funny.
2010 was a good year for me. I’m joyful about the new experiences and adventures that have come my way. And yeah, sometimes it’s been a little cold and uncomfortable. I guess that is to be expected when you leave all you have known and travel half way across the country to live. But take a look at me from morning to night and you will see a very happy grin. I love my life, even if it is six degrees below zero. My feet don’t get cold because they are too busy dancing.
“There are no mirrors in the animal world.”
What’s that mean? Well, have you ever noticed how some animals seem to have no idea of their physical capabilities? Watched in horror as a little dog attacked a much larger dog? Orwatched a big lumbering giant canine cower in front of a cat?
I lived downtown in the Quapaw Quarter Historic District for many years. I loved the 1896 house that we had restored and renovated, I loved the quirky neighbors and neighborhood. While downtown, we welcomed “Kim Dog” into our family. Kim was six week old Chinese Pug puppy when she joined our family. We gave her to Kathy, who was nine at the time. That was one of the best things I ever did as a parent, giving that little Pug to my daughter. The two were inseparable.
What a character Kim was. Pugs don’t have a lot of leg. So the larger her stomach got, the closer it came to scrapping the ground. In fact, if we let her out on a rainy day and the grass was a little long her stomach would get wet. In the cold fall and winter months that really bothered her. Her “fix” was to carefully walk a minimum distance into the grass, then raise one leg horizontal to the ground, balancing on three legs while she “did her business”. She would then race back inside with a minimum amount of contact between her and the cold grass.
For the first few years, Kim was an only dog, and I don’t think she ever understood our confusion about the order of the universe. She might not look exactly like the rest of the humans in her family, but she clearly expected the same rights as the other kids.
She had a chair at the table, where she would sit and watch intently as the fork dipped into the food and then went to our mouths. Although I never saw it, there is no doubt in my mind that Kathy fed her with a spoon when I wasn’t around.
Kim was a smart little girl, quickly learning that if she sat up on her bottom when there was food in the area and gazed soulfully into the eyes of any human in the vicinity she would usually be rewarded with a treat. Since we lived in a house with two kids, there was always food around. She got fat. Not a worry to her, she just rolled right into the sit up position and sat, tummy hanging in all of its soft and mushy glory. Actually I think it helped her balance because she could stay like that for long periods of time.
When Kat had friends over, Kim was right in the middle with the rest of the girls. I remember looking into the bedroom and seeing six little girls in a circle. Six little girls and one pug dog all engaged in putting the puzzle together.
Kim went to the office with me every day when Kat was in school. She would stroll up and down the stairs in our old building, checking to see who made it in, and who was absent. During negotiations to sell our company we held many meetings in our board room. The buyers were “Yankees” but we tried to be polite and not hold that against them. Kim didn’t care about politeness, and would sit in her chair (yes, she had a seat at the conference table) and do a little rumbling “grrrrrrrrrrrrr” when the Yankee’s talked. I wished we had listened to her, but that is a story for another time.
We had a great house, great neighbors. But there were two things missing for me. I wanted horses, and I wanted a big dog. What I really craved was to be out in the country again. So we sold the house downtown and moved out to the country.
I got my big dog. Cramer was an English Mastiff, a forty pound, ten week old puppy when I brought him home. He was so frightened from riding in the car from his home in Alma to Little Rock that he would not walk when I set him down. He just plopped there, all legs and huge feet. I stood him up, and he plopped right back down. I had to carry him inside that first night.
He got over his shyness of that first day of course, but he never showed a hint of aggressiveness in his six years on this earth. Smart and eager to please, he truly was a gently giant. At maturity he was close to two hundred pounds. We lost several lamps and dishes to his wagging tail before we got wise and put them out of tail reach. He was a bit of a klutz, and if he misjudged his distance and bumped into someone, the human would usually be the one to move. We had to be really careful when Keely was little, one swipe of his tail and she would go flying.
Kim Dog did not like Cramer at first. At all.
It was clear that she just could not believe that we would bring that big lumbering dog into her house. It was bad enough that she had to put up with Chris Cat, but a dog? Really? And we had the sheer audacity to give him toys. Toys! Toys were for Kim first and perhaps for Kathy. But not for big clumsy drooling boy dogs.
At first, I bought normal sized dog toys for Cramer. And as any mother knows, if you buy a toy for one, you buy a toy for all of the kids. But Kim never liked her toys, she wanted Cramer’s. No, that’s not right. She liked her toy just fine, she just wanted both. So she would carefully place her toy on the couch, then get Cramer’s toy. And how would she do that? Easy. She’d walk up to him as he lay on the floor, contently holding his new gopher or banana toy in his paws as he chewed on it. She would walk up, sit down, and lay the “Give Me What You Have” stare on him. It might take a few minutes, but eventually he would look up and see “The Look”. He would go right back to chewing on the toy. Then he would hear the rumbling “grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr”. He would glance up and get the double whammy of the “grrrrrrrr” and the “Give Me What You Have” look. And Cramer, all two hundred pounds of him, would lie down on his side with the toy in his mouth. Kim would lean over, pluck the toy from his mouth, march over to the couch and place it with the rest of the toys. Yep, it happened every time. There were occasions when I walked into the room and couldn’t even see the Pug on the couch because there were so many stuffed animals on it.
I tried getting really big dog toys for Cramer, but that didn’t work. It’s amazing how much strength and determination a twenty pound Pug has when she wants a toy up on the couch.
Clearly, Cramer could have defeated Kim in a physical battle. Twenty pounds vs Two hundred pounds, all he had to do was sit on her and it would be “Game Over”. But he never did. He always released the toy. She had him completely wrapped around her little paw.
And then there was Chris Cat. Chris was a beautiful blue and white Persian cat. He put up with dogs and people and just kind of did his cat thing. Kim would chase him at every opportunity, he would disappear into his hiding places, and float back out when he felt it was safe.
But when we moved out to the country things changed for Chris. We left the doors to the outside open a lot, and he was able to go exploring at outside. He never caught anything, but he sure enjoyed hunting. And I think the process of hunting gave him confidence, because he started to stand up to Kim a little. If he was on the couch first, he would stay there when she hopped up. In fact, he even swatted her a few times.
But the best, the absolute best times in the world for Chris, were when Kim was outside the back door and wanting in. This would occur when it was cold or rainy and we wanted the doors closed and limited tracking in of mud from the dogs. We had a French door as our back door, with panes of class from top to bottom. Kim would be outside, barking and scratching to come in. Chris would stroll up and sit, looking at her. You could hear the telepathic communication.
Chris to Kim “I’m inside. You are not.”
Kim to Chris “Let me in! Let me in! Let me in! Let me in right now!”
This conversation would go on for a while.
Then, Chris would decide to escalate the situation.
He would lay down right against the door, on his back, paws in the air. And he would bat his little feet at Kim. He would playfully paw at the glass, right at her nose level, clearly saying “I’m inside. You are not. Nanny nanny boo boo. You can’t do a thing about it”.
Kim would go berserk. The little fat Pug dog would be hopping up and down in place, barking and scratching at the door. Chris on the other side, leisurely batting at the glass.
Of course all good things have to come to an end, and eventually I had to let Kim in. As I walked to the door, I’d warn Chris. “You might want to get a head start”. He would look at me, and start strolling towards the stairs. When I opened the door, it was like the gates had opened at the horse races at Oaklawn Park. Kim would shoot through the door, paws spinning on the tile floor as she tried to get traction. And then she would be after that cat. Chris would zoom upstairs to one of his hiding places; I’m sure doing a cat giggle as Kim sped from room to room looking for him.
Cramer would just sit and watch. Bewildered.
Kim never caught Chris. But she kept trying. And Chris never tired of baiting her, even if he had to run like hell when she finally got inside. Cramer never really understood any of it.
So what’s my point? Well really, I was thinking this morning about those wonderful characters in my life, Kim, Cramer and Chris. They are all gone now. I was chuckling over their antics, the little Pug bossing around the big Mastiff. The Persian cat taunting the Pug.
They were all in a relationship “dance”. It didn’t matter what their physical attributes and abilities were, they had engrained behaviors that continued to be played out, over and over.
We humans do the same thing, don’t we? We react to a verbal or behavior stimulus in a certain way, and eventually our reaction becomes a habit. We lose sight of our unique strengths and beauty. But there are mirrors in our world. We just have to have the courage to look. And perhaps the courage to change.
