Tag Archives: Labrador

Sink or Swim, I Thought Fat Floated

No surprise I am emotional today, I am every day. I have glimpses into light and peace. I did so as I studied and read the scriptures, and listened to uplifting music this morning. However, much like an egg on perfectly seasoned non-stick surface thrown into the air, so went my brief feelings of joy. Back into the abyss I sink.

I talked to my lawyer earlier this week and he said the disability judge is running fourteen months behind, so my case will not be heard until probably next December (2014). It is so frustrating. Confusing too, the emotions I feel. I am so terrified being in public right now, going to a hearing around people scares me. When I am scared and overly emotionally Little Hope seems to have the upper hand. It has been a HUGE fear getting in front of the judge and she come out. It will leave me unpresent not knowing what is going on or how to answer any questions. Not to mention if she pulls one of her fits.

Something I realized today, I beat myself up over things before they happen. I create elaborate scenarios in my head, stupid what if scenarios. Example in point. I let Daisy and Roscoe out in our fenced in backyard. While they did their business I figured I would do mine. (TMI moment coming) My stomach was bothering me and I stayed in there a few more minutes than I originally thought. I start panicking that Roscoe and Daisy have dug out of the yard. (Completely out of character for Roscoe, and Daisy too if she is not with Gage.) But it was real to me. I could not hear them in them playing outside the window. I just knew they were gone. Daisy has a chip, Roscoe does not. They are going to get hit by a car. Tracy is not home to help me find them. It is my fault that I ate the Oreos, because I know those and my Metformin mess my stomach up. I am not going to be able to live with myself. (I am trying to hurry so I can go find them, but my stomach would not cooperate.) By this point I was almost in tears and shaking. I hear the neighbors dogs barking, then my parents dogs barking. My fears are confirmed, they have escaped. Why else would all the neighborhood dogs bark. I have got to get out of this bathroom!! Why did I eat those stupid Oreos!! Those Oreos killed my dogs. Then I heard it, outside my bathroom window, inside the fence, Daisy’s beautiful bark. The same bark that annoys me at 3:00 in the morning.

My epiphany came as I walked to the door to let them in. I am always finding reason to hate me, real or imagined.

In therapy we have talked how I blame myself for all the bad things that have happened to me, part of it for me is to give any others involved a free pass. The deeper part is in most cases I feel like something I have done caused it.

I’m fat. I have heard I am fat because I would eat at my Granny’s and my home. I cry as I type that. In my mind being fat has been the root of many of my problems. For those who say lose the weight, let me say, if there is a diet, I have tried it. I have owned several exercise machines, walked, swam, danced, kickboxed, you name it. I would lose some, and breathe and gain weight again and the pounds I lost would bring family members and friends.

So again I am fat, it is my fault. I got that. It is there. I cannot shake it. Enter the teen years and puberty, I get something that “fat girls” get Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. I’m fat. I caused it. My fault. Through the years I was told that I would have trouble getting pregnant. Lose weight they say, but PCOS makes you gain too. So being fat made me have something that makes me gain weight. Anyway, losing weight nor medication helped. Infertility=No Child because I am fat! My Fault! But wait, there’s more! I wanted a child so bad. My self-esteem so low I am easy prey. All the signs were there that the baby did not exist, but I believed her. Everyone hurt because of my dream and my gullibility. Then instead of my womb producing something beautiful, it produced something ugly, cancer. Cancer, that was my fault because I am fat. Now my heart is enlarged and thick, I have asthma, degenerative back disease, diabetes, and several other things…and why??? BECAUSE I AM FAT!!!

So why do I hate myself? I wonder?

Fat provides a cruel floating illusion, when in reality it acts as a millstone securely placed pulling you into the deepest your abyss.



Mutts and More Monday: Ruby From Downunder

The first canine pal and fellow blogger that I would like to feature on Mutts and More Monday is a gorgeous black labrador from Sydney, Australia named Ruby.

Ruby blogs daily about her life and adventures. I have come quite fond of the beauty. Almost wishing she were closer and I could introduce her to my Gage, they would make some amazingly gorgeous and quite mischievous pups.

Ruby has a stomach of steel and much like Mikey on the old Life cereal commerical, will eat anything. She keeps me laughing. Be careful though, I do not recommend reading her blog aloud to your dogs, some of her habits might wear off, though she once told me she was talking to my dogs telepathicly. Hence the reason they were spending so much time on our fresh unfolded laundry.

If you love dogs and want to follow a fun blog, check out Ruby.

You can follow Ruby and her adventures here.

Find the Good Friday: Man’s Best Friend and Heroic Teens

Today I have two stories that I want to share:

Love of A Best Friend

I am a dog lover. I admit to being nervous around pit bulls and chow chows, but if the owner has raised them correctly, then I will love on them if the owner stays beside me. I just love dogs. They bring me comfort. When I went to my new psychiatrist this week an office mascot lab-mix roamed freely. She is beautiful, and helped calm me. Though my blood pressure was still high, I was not nearly as nervous.

A dog’s unconditional love can help turn a dark night into day. Many tears gently licked away by my furbabies, laughing until my sides hurt at the silly things they have done, and their enduring patience with a mom with mental health problem makes our bond so strong. They bring so much joy into my life. My family has always had at least one dog.

Years ago we had our “last one”. His name was Chance, as in last chance. Dogs bring joy, but they also bring sorrow when they pass over the rainbow bridge, or someone comes into your yard and steals them. My parents did not want to torture us with another lost pet, so Chance would be the last. Not many years after he came into our family, someone yet again, took another of our Pekingese.

Our home seemed empty without a pet. We had hamsters, canaries, guinea pigs, a cat, and fish. We loved them, but not at all like the dogs. There is something special about dogs. It was not too long before we jumped back on the dog band wagon.

Now that all four children are grown, my parents have two Chihuahuas. My oldest Sister has two Chihuahuas. My next sister a Chihuahua. My Brother a Labrador. A month after I was married we adopted our first Lab-mix, about a year and a half later we rescued our next Lab-mix, two years later we purchased our female Labrador, and a few months after that we purchased our male Labrador. How many is that? Ten dogs, I should say we love dogs!

A couple of years ago I read the tender story about John and Schoep, his dog. John would take Schoep swimming to help Schoep’s arthritis. During the swim, John would let his dear friend rest on his chest in the water. The comfort of being in the arms of his best friend and the gentle rocking of the waves would calm the old fella into a restful slumber. It touched me deeply. The connection and trust between these two friends. John’s tender devotion to Schoep, makes my heart and eyes tear up. The image below by Hannah Stonehouse Hudson / Stonehouse Photography went viral.


Last night on John’s Facebook page he announced that Schoep had crossed the rainbow bridge. Schoep was 20.

Today has a very nice story about this sweet companionship.

My heart goes out to John.

Heroes on 2 Wheels

I am so proud of 15-year-old Temar Boggs and his friend Chris Garcia, who followed Temar’s gutt feeling. A feeling that I know must have been Holy Ghost.

Temar and his friend been hanging out and helping an elderly lady move a couch when they heard that a 5-year-old girl was missing. He and his friends immediately joined the search. Temar following his gut feeling on what direction to go and that “he was going to find her.”

He did indeed find her, as after following the car on his bike for 15 minutes, the abductor let the little girl go.

The following link has an interview with Temar and more details. I am so grateful for his deligence and bringing little Jocelyn home.

Huffington Post Story

Monday Morning Crazies…Wait It’s Friday!

My alarm went off late this morning. I did not mind that one single bit. I do not have anywhere to be, since my alarm is a 76 lb yellow labrador barking that she is ready to pee and ready for breakfast. For the longest time she had gotten into habit into waking up at 4:30, but I broke her of it, recently it started back. I am so glad that today she let me sleep in until 5:55.

We really named Daisy Mae and Gage wrong.

They should have been named after these two people instead.

That’s Bonnie and Clyde. See he has black hair, she has blonde. They were quite the furtive pair.

Our morning routine Bonnie Daisy wakes me up, I then let her and Clyde Gage out in the fenced in back yard to do their business, while I quickly do mine and get their breakfest ready. It takes all of 5-7 minutes. On a normal morning, they would be eagerly waiting at the door to come in. Not today. They were no were to be found in the backyard.

I ran to the bedroom and told Jethro that our fugitives had once again escaped. I took off on foot, going through the neighborhood yelling their names. Looking in the wet ground for Gage’s mamoth paw prints. Listening for dogs barking. The only ones I heard were these tiny furry little things yapping. I love small dogs, I grew up with small dogs, my family has small dogs, but I sure wished they would’ve hushed this morning. So I could listen for my two.

Jethro quickly came in the car. He went the opposite direction. Driving the streets, up and down. Neither of us took time to grab our glasses. I yelled for Daisy and Gage, and walked the streets, yelled and walked, walked and yelled. Listening for any sign. My feet, back, and throat ached. I was almost in tears. Wondering if yesterday was the last time I snuggled with them.

I prayed, please bring them to me. I did not know where to look. Honestly at this point I did not know if I was going to make it home myself without calling someone. My breathing was pretty bad. Please Heavenly Father, you know where they are.

Just then from behind me I heard eigh feet pounding on the wet dirt road rushing me. i turned around. I do not know who was smiling bigger. Them or me. They had obviously gotten lost in their roaming. Daisy did not want to leave my side. She looked at me at one point exhausted as if to say, “Mom, can you pick me up?” If my back were not killing me, and I was still fighting to keep Gage close by I would have tried. We kept stopping to catch our breath on the way home.

When finally inside the house, she collapsed on the bathroom floor exhausted. Both are sleeping soundly in their kennels now, safe. I have said many prayers of gratitude.

I have chased those prayers with Ibuprofen for my back, my feet up from the blisters, I am breathing fine now, and I might end up hoarse from calling their names, but it made me think. I believe faith is a principle of action. I could not just pray for them to come home, I needed to do my part to make it happen, when I did my part, He showed them the way to find me.

I love stories with happy endings.

Pepto and My 96 Pound Baby

Have you ever tried to give a 96 pound Labrador liquid Pepto? Before it was over we were both pink. That would have been the picture to take, but I didn’t.

Initially I gave him the tablet, but because I had to fist it down his throat it came right back up whole, with the grass he had eaten to try to settle his stomache. Poor guy.

Now, he seems to be feeling better. I hope it stays that way. I sure love the big googer.


I think I can actually go to my appointment without worrying too much about him.

Feeling Overwhelmed

My therapist appointment is in three hours, about an hour away, plus I need to go to Sears to have them replace my scratched glasses lens.

My Gauge boy has been throwing up all morning. I just gave him Pepto. i hope he feels better before I need to leave, I do not want to leave him. So many people I know have lost their fur babies unexpectedly this year. I tried to call my husband to let him know that Gauge isn’t feeling well, he calls Gauge his “#1 Son”. He is in a training. Dangit.

I wish I could take him with me. We have seriously thought about getting him trained as a service dog. He is such a good boy. I hate that he is sick. I need to get back in there to him. He is getting sick again.

Four Legged Blessings

My adorable female Labrador decided she needed to wake us up at 4:00 this morning, us meaning me, because me dear husband slept through her barks of, “Ohhhh I gotta peee…ohhhh I gotta peeeee….I gotta peee NOWWWWW!”. So, I groggily crawl out of bed and let her out. Which of course meant the other three wanted their turn in the back yard potty also.

Daisy Mae

Her Mate, Gauge.


Roscoe’s trusty side kick, Enos. 🙂

Yes, we grew up in the 70s. Dukes of Hazzard kids. Gauge was named when we bought him, so he did not get a name from Hazzard.

These are my children, my furbabies. My blessings. They love unconditionally. All four recieved clean bills of health today. Though, Daisy Mae lives with infertility like me. We do not know why she never takes when they hook up. It might be because I would get so attached to my grandpuppies, and have a hard time selling them. There is a reason for everything I suppose.

Enos and Roscoe are our two oldest, and they love dressing up. They have matching leisure suits. Their newest phase is wearing bandanas. I call them their shirts. It was cute. If Enos’ comes off he will bring it in his mouth to me so I will put is back on him. Such a cutie. They help me keep my sanity at times.

I am so grateful for my furbabies.

Here in this house……

Here in this house……

I will never know the loneliness I hear in the barks of the other dogs ‘out there’.
I can sleep soundly, assured that when I wake my world will not have changed.
I will never know hunger, or the fear of not knowing if I’ll eat.
I will not shiver in the cold, or grow weary from the heat.
I will feel the sun’s heat, and the rain’s coolness,
and be allowed to smell all that can reach my nose.
My fur will shine, and never be dirty or matted.
Here in this house…

There will be an effort to communicate with me on my level.
I will be talked to and, even if I don’t understand,
I can enjoy the warmth of the words.
I will be given a name so that I may know who I am among many.
My name will be used in joy, and I will love the sound of it!
Here in this house…

I will never be a substitute for anything I am not.
I will never be used to improve peoples’ images of themselves.
I will be loved because I am who I am, not someone’s idea of who I should be.
I will never suffer for someone’s anger, impatience, or stupidity.
I will be taught all the things I need to know to be loved by all.
If I do not learn my lessons well, they will look to my teacher for blame.
Here in this house…

I can trust arms that hold, hands that touch…
knowing that, no matter what they do, they do it for the good of me.
If I am ill, I will be doctored.
If scared, I will be calmed.
If sad, I will be cheered.
No matter what I look like, I will be considered beautiful and thought to be of value.
I will never be cast out because I am too old, too ill, too unruly, or not cute enough.
My life is a responsibility, and not an afterthought.
I will learn that humans can almost, sometimes, be as kind and as fair as dogs.

Here in this house…
I will belong.
I will be home.