My Philosophy

I don’t know why it’s so hard for people to be nice to each other. This has always been a problem but with the advent of social media, it’s gotten worse. Social media allows people to be connected to anyone/everyone in the world, at all hours of the day or night, on many different devices, etc. It doesn’t teach people manners or encourage common courtesy. In fact, since the invention of cellphones, people have gotten ruder in public. They take calls in restaurants, in aisles of stores, while driving, etc. They talk loudly and pay no attention to others in their vicinity who don’t want to be privy to their personal conversations. They also ignore the people they’re shopping, riding in the car or eating with in favor of the electronic device of their choice. Earth hour was a feeble attempt at public awareness. ”Dare the world to save the planet” seems lame to me. What good is saving the planet if the people on it don’t care about each other? What about having an hour daily when every household turns off iphones, ipads, laptops, pcs, etc? DARE THE WORLD TO SAVE MANKIND. We don’t share our day with people unless it’s texting as things happen. There doesn’t seem to be anymore of the “how was your day?” to the kids after school or the spouses after a long work day.

The civility is fleeting in our society. I understand being rude to telemarketers if you’re getting a bunch of calls a day and you’re on the “do not call list”. True, it’s not nice to hang up or say something mean to them when they’re just trying to earn a living. However, they are invading your home, your personal space. It’s a different story when you’re in public where everyone is welcome or should be. Like public sidewalks, parks, stores, etc. It has always made me uncomfortable when I was in school and would say “hi” in the halls to people and they wouldn’t say hi back. It’s only some that refuse to answer and I would cut them slack, thinking they had a bad day, etc. After a few times I would give up and not say it anymore but it would always make me feel bad about myself. I realize how busy people are and I wasn’t trying to engage them in conversation. Just a polite hello to acknowledge another human being’s existence. I would categorize them as snobs who thought they were better than me.

The same thing happened when I was working at a job in a factory type atmosphere. After awhile you basically know everyone on sight, even if you haven’t had any dealings with them. I’d say “hi” getting in or out of the elevator or passing in the hall and the same thing would happen. Now I encounter it when walking the dogs. I guess I’m friendlier than I thought because I try to greet everyone I see. It isn’t always the cheeriest hello but it’s always a kind one. I want people to know I saw them and didn’t dismiss them. Not getting a hi back still makes me feel bad.

Now as an adult (really? despite my age, can I really call myself that?!), I have given this a lot of thought. Like in the past when I’ve had chronic physical pain not visible to the naked eye and only I knew how much agony I was in. It got me thinking how everyone is struggling with things that are giving them grief. No one can see by looking at anyone else what trials they’ve endured or what could possibly be going on in someone else’s lives. Unless we tell them. Which we don’t unless we’re very close to them or we blog about them which means telling the whole world. I know for a fact I need to be more tolerant of others and maybe cut them more slack. A woman who cuts me off in traffic could be upset about a fight she had with her husband. Someone who rams my heel with her grocery cart and doesn’t apologize could be thinking about her mother being diagnosed with cancer. A guy who let his giant sheepdog crap in my front yard and not pick it up could just be an asshole! Ha. Gotcha. Seriously, you get the idea. We don’t know if people are doing these discourteous, rude things by accident due to being distracted by mounting problems (and debt) or if it’s on purpose because they think they’re entitled or above the law or just lazy or…

Does having an excuse give you a free pass to treat others like crap? No two people are dealing with the same thing so compassion and empathy need to be in play. Unfortunately, they seem to be in short supply or a ton of people were “behind the door when they were given out” as the old saying goes. I don’t know if anyone goes by the Golden Rule anymore but I still try to.

I feel uncomfortable getting compliments and don’t get them anymore so it’s not an issue. I enjoy giving them though. I love making people feel good. I suppose some might consider it sucking up but I just like giving people a lift. When I look at someone and see something I genuinely like about them (whether I know them or not), I might say “I love your purse” or “your haircut is fabulous”, etc. My only criteria for compliments is they have to be true. I’m not going to tell you something looks good if it doesn’t. I also compliment you if you do your job well or you made an experience pleasurable for me (like filling out forms, drawing blood, etc.). Most restaurant service is horrible, my water glass is empty most of the time, etc. The few times I’ve had a great waitress were SO memorable to me. Besides tipping better, I fall all over myself to tell them how outstanding they were.

 

I’ve also noticed that people in general are jealous of others’ good fortune. I learned many years ago being happy for someone else takes nothing away from you. People enjoy sharing their happiness when things are going well. Often there’s not a lot of people willing to revel in someone else’s fame or fortune (unless they are indirectly gaining from it). I do understand why it’s hard to sit on the sidelines when someone else seems to have the Midas touch. Everything they want seems to come to them with ease, while everything you touch turns to shit. This is when the gratitude has to kick in so you remember how things could be worse.

 

It starts with one person and should branch out from there. I’d like everyone to say hi to someone that they don’t normally acknowledge. Whether it’s on Twitter or IRL. Give someone a sincere compliment and see if it makes YOU feel better to be nice to someone. Even if it’s just to take a second to comment on someone’s Instagram pictures. We don’t have to do anything drastic here but just try to cut one another some slack and put yourself in someone else’s shoes. Maybe being nice will rub off on the rest of the human race.

 

 

 

 

With Friends Like This…

I have about 6 or 7 different blog posts swirling in my head and don’t know which one to write. So instead of that, I promised I would post parts of the life story I wrote at age 21. It’s going to be long and I was thinking of saving it for if I ever write a book. I think it needs to be told and it explains so much about how I relate to people now. This is why I can’t have friends or don’t want to have friends or can’t let people be too close to me, etc. I can’t blame a single incident for scarring me, even if it did last 2 years, can I?!

 

So this is entirely written by my 21 yr. old self, I will have my own current day remarks at the end of this. THE BEGINNING:

 

I met Diane in 8th grade and we were closer in the next 2 years than any two people could be. She was the same height as me but thin with long red hair (she would never call it red but auburn! ha!). She was really intelligent yet a lot of fun. We were together practically all the time. Every weekend either she would come to my house and stay overnight or I’d go to hers or we’d just get together and spend the day or just go rollerskating at night or swimming at the YMCA. We weren’t exactly alike because we each had different tastes and opinions but we managed to share and respect eachothers. That’s where Kathy comes in–we both knew her and somehow got thrown together and decided we liked the combination. Kathy was 6′ tall with brown hair and very outdoorsy, while Diane was a totally indoor person. Diane loved to sew and bake and play ping pong, records, etc.

 

Kathy was just the opposite and would rather do everything outside–camping, swimming and all the rest. She even liked country music, while Diane was partial to heavy metal and rock. I honestly doubt if those two would have gotten along at all if I hadn’t been the intermediary. I was exactly half of each of them (so to speak) because I enjoyed both indoor and outdoor activities. The 3 of us spent a lot of time together at slumber parties and going sledding near my house on Mount Tom or ice-skating at McDonough Park. We were like the 3 Musketeers but everyone called us “Roger’s Angels”. (more about Roger in another post).

 

One day at lunch in 10th grade, Kathy, Diane and I were sitting together and Kathy brought up the subject of a square dance up in Greenwood where she went all year round because her parents had a cabin in the woods. She had been telling us for over a year about this boyfriend she had met up there named Jonah and he was Amish. She wanted to know if Diane would go with Jonah’s brother John and she’d get Jonah’s best friend Joe to take me. We’d never met these fellows but she assured us we’d like them and have a good time. Joe was just perfect for me she said, he wasn’t Amish but a minister’s son that had a rebellious streak. The only problem was the dance was a week away and we (Diane and me) didn’t know how to square dance. We’d done it in 6th grade but who can remember all the stuff to keep you from looking like a complete idiot. I suggested Diane and Kathy come over one night during the week so we could learn and practice and we sort of turned it into a party. The week nearly flew by while the 3 of us were anticipating all the fun we would have and what it would lead to. Then I got a phone call from Kathy on the night of the event. I remember I was ironing my corduroys (I never ironed!) when the phone rang. She was crying hysterically and she could hardly calm down to tell me that there had been a car accident and the 3 guys were injured. She said she didn’t know the extent of the injuries but that Joe had almost died. Even though I didn’t know him I was overwhelmed with sadness. Not only because I had missed a much looked forward to date but because Kathy told us that John had a broken arm and Jonah had a broken leg. Joe was in intensive care. Each day we inquired about their health to see if they were improving and she would faithfully keep us updated. Shortly after this Diane met Todd and lost all interest in John and I can’t say I blamed her.

 

Kathy, on the other hand, was telling me how Joe was paralyzed from the waist down and how he had given up the will to live. She said everyone was trying to get through to him but nothing worked. She said she was going up to see him in the hospital that weekend and got the bright idea that I should write him a note (or maybe it was my idea to say how sorry I was about what had happened and how I hoped he’d hurry and get better to take me out!) to cheer him up. I thought what the hell and wrote on plain notebook paper, no envelope and gave the letter to Kathy at school. I didn’t really think about it at all over the weekend but on Monday when Kathy came back she handed me a sheet or two of typing paper folded small with no envelope. This letter was my first real introduction to Joe Johnson. It was Oct. 1977 and I was 15. He was very nice in the letter and said that he did indeed intend to keep our date once he got on his feet again and that he’d appreciate it if I’d be patient and bear with him. He told me about himself, his younger sister Sue, his parents, what he liked and disliked, when he was getting out of the hospital, etc. He said he always typed because his handwriting was so awful, so his mom had brought the typewriter from home in special to use.

 

I was so touched that I wrote back, telling him about myself and this started a long postal romance of sorts. Kathy was the “middle man” and would give the letters I wrote to Joe, either to Jonah when he came down to visit, or to anyone else that lived up there when she went to the cabin, which was practically every weekend. I was hearing from Joe and writing to him about every 2 weeks. I was learning so much about him and actually all the people that Kathy knew up north. I was overjoyed when Joe got out of the hospital, even though he was in a wheelchair. According to him and Kathy both, he was very athletic and was not the type to sit around and be held back. He started rehabilitation so he could eventually walk again. I can safely say that I helped him through it all and was by his side every step of the way even if it was only by mail. Kathy kept promising to take me up to her cabin so I could meet the whole gang. Jonah had 8 or more brothers and sisters besides John and I had practically all their names and ages memorized so that when the fateful day came about I could make a good impression. I would have settled just to meet Jonah (someone who knew Joe and could give me the whole picture so I wouldn’t be deluding myself) but since he’s Amish and they don’t have phones or allow those of that religion to talk on the phone unless there’s an emergency, I was disappointed that I couldn’t even talk to him when he came to visit Kathy. She would call me up and taunt me and say, “Jonah’s here for dinner” and I’d say “Put him on the phone, I just want to say hi” but she’d never let him or me. They were also forbidden to have pictures taken so I had never seen a photograph of him but Kathy had told me enough so I had a mental image of him etched in my mind to this day. Thick black hair, dark eyes, 6 feet 3 inches tall, big boned but neither fat nor thin. As for Joe, Kathy finally relented and gave me a picture of him and after that I was even more nuts about him…he was dressed in blue jean overalls with no shirt underneath, a dark tan, blonde hair, gorgeous blue eyes and a smile that could win anyone over. On the back of the photo, though, it said Mark (scrawled in a hurried hand). Of course I asked Kathy about this but she casually dismissed it by saying that either Nancy or Sandy (her twin sisters that were a year younger than me and 2 years younger than her since she had flunked a grade in school had written that while talking on the phone. She insisted they both had a crush on a guy named Mark and while on the phone they had absentmindedly written that while daydreaming. According to her they wrote Mark on everything even their homework assignments. I didn’t think too much about it because I was so enthralled by the guy’s looks. Then as usual I started worrying that even though Joe liked me, would he be able to stand me when he saw me face to face or even in a picture?! I discussed this with Kathy and we decided to have a little fun and send the picture of a very beautiful pen pal I had at the time and see what he thought as I passed her off as being me. I finally owned up to my naughtyness and sent a picture and told him how I had feared he would reject me for not being every man’s dream. Well, he told me straight and direct that he didn’t judge people on how they look because he’d been judged that way as a dumb farmer. He said he thought I had a wonderful personality and my looks were fine by him. I was quite thrilled and was walking around as if the cat had swallowed the canary and went back for seconds.

 

We were still writing and getting closer than ever. I told him things I’d never told another living being. I honestly don’t know why either except it was so exciting and seemed forbidden. I usually wrote the letters at school (sometimes at home) and I don’t think my parents even knew I was doing it and no one at school really  knew it either except Kathy. In a way, this brought us closer together and we were constantly talking about the guys. Joe was making wonderful progress and finally was able to hobble out of the wheelchair with the use of a cane. It seemed like it had taken forever to get to that point.

 

Even though he wasn’t getting around so well, he promised me he would come visit me. It was all planned to take place that June 1978. The last day before school let out for the year, Joe would be coming to the school and go to half of Kathy’s classes, then come with me to half of mine so I, too, could show him off. I hadn’t spouted off to anybody that he was coming but I made myself perfect (or the closest I come to that) and couldn’t wait to see the expressions on everyone in class when he came in on my arm. I was so nervous that morning when Kathy and I met in the hall before the first class to await Joe. Naturally, I was kind of alarmed when he didn’t show up by the time we had to part company. Kathy didn’t get the least bit upset and just said she would chew him out good when he did show up, which she assured me would definitely be by lunch. She said she should have warned me that it was typical of him to be late. I was literally on the edge of my seat through the first four hours of that day’s classes and not one single thing the teacher said registered. I was so happy just dreaming about how great the whole summer be after the first initial confrontation and we hit it off. I was counting on that. I went into the lunch room where Kathy was waiting and there was no Joe in sight. I asked her if she’d heard anything from him. She said no, something must have come up and she would get to the bottom of it after school, if he still hadn’t transformed. I had lost my appetite and sat listless, wondering if he had chickened out and realized he didn’t really mean what he’d said. As you may have guessed, the day went without us ever seeing hide nor hair of him. I was depressed (funny how in the span of a few hours I can go from the highest high to the lowest low). Kathy called to tell me Joe had called her to say that his car had broke down while he was driving out of town–he was 18 and had just bought the old junker. His passion was working on old cars and apparently he hadn’t done enough work on it. He told her all the things that had to be fixed and how he just didn’t have the money for that now. So our meeting would have to be postponed. Okay, I could deal with that if I had to.

 

It wsa what started next that I wasn’t prepared for. Kathy told me one day that her family, especially her parents didn’t like Jonah for some reason (it escapes me now). I think it had to do with Jonah buying her things or something equally dumb. Anyway, she told me they forbade her to see him anymore and got angry when even his name was mentioned. Thus she told me not to mention any of those folks she was friends with, to even her sisters because they would tell her parents and she would be in big trouble. It was the whole star-crossed lovers theme, since she claimed she always managed to sneak off to be with him on the sly. that summer (’78) I went on a week long canoe trip with Kathy, Nancy, Sandy and other people from their church. Kathy is unbelievably religious so she had talked me into it. I enjoyed everything including the bible study, but thrived on the outdoors even if I did get 2nd degree burns on my legs from the sun. Also that summer, Diane, Kathy and I took Driver’s Ed. I lived 2 miles from the h.s. but Diane lived only a few blocks and Kathy lived even closer, only in the other direction. We were tentatively planning to drive up and visit all those fine fellows once one of us got our license.

 

It seems like it was the fall of ’78 when Joe suddenly disappeared. it’s not quite as simple as that but I guess neither Kathy or I were keeping in touch enough to know what he was planning. Finally Kathy got in touch with Jonah, who told her much to our dismay that Joe had moved to Bismark, ND with his parents because his father got a job as a minister at a larger church. We didn’t hear from him for a couple months and we couldn’t write to him since no one knew his address. Finally one day I was delighted when Kathy passed me what I thought was just a note but I could tell from the broad grin on her face what it really was. In the lovely letter Joe told me how sorry he was that his move was so sudden and that he didn’t get to see me before he left. Then he went on to say how busy he’s been since they moved but how now he wanted to keep in touch. I was kind of put off after all this time of just writing and hoping for something that would never be but Kathy was always reinforcing my hopes about what a great matchmaker she was and  how I’d be thanking her for getting us two together. After a few letters back and forth (still sent with Kathy’s to him to save postage) the spark was back and I devoted a lot of time to writing those letters. No, I wasn’t going so far as to say I loved him but you know how it is, it’s fun to get mail in any way, shape or form and he was like a good friend. It was heading into winter and Kathy wasn’t seeing so much of Jonah but he did give her a lovely down filled coat. Our lives went on much the same except I was still in touch with Joe. He even wrote me in long hand once.

 

Then in Nov. ’79 on the night of our orchestra concert, while I was warming up in the big room we had class in, Nancy and Sandy came over to me. They were both in the band and were going to warm up too because that night was a special concert where the band and the orchestra played together. Right before we all were going out on stage, they dropped this bomb on me. I still can’t recall exactly how they brought the subject up but they mentioned something about me writing to Joe. I said yes and they told me that that very day Sandy had gone into Kathy’s bedroom looking for something and had run across the huge stack of letters I had written to Joe. I blanched, there must be some mistake. No, they said that there was even a letter started to me sitting in the typewriter on Kathy’s desk. They informed me that there was no one called Joe in existence. I quized them about this and asked what about Jonah and John and all the rest? They were just made up Sandy said, none of the Hauert family knew anyone else in the area of their cabin and even though there were Amish people up there, they had certainly never spoken to them. What did all this mean? I couldn’t put the pieces together, I was in such shock. Well, I saw a picture of him, I reminded them and they had me describe it. Then they said the guy really was Mark in the picture and in fact he was there at the concert that night with his fiance. He was just a counselor that all 3 Hauerts had at camp and didn’t know very well.

 

The twins said they had taken the letters to their mother who read every last one. That made me sick to my stomach. How many people had read my innermost feelings? I flipped out when they told me their mother had confronted Kathy about the whole thing and she hadn’t said much just that it was a joke. I WAS FAR FROM LAUGHING. HERE WAS MY 2ND BEST FRIEND WHO HAD LIED AND DECIEVED ME FOR OVER 2 YEARS!!! By this time it was time to go out and perform. I was shaking and almost hysterical but I knew I had to do it. I did the best I couldn’t concentrate on the music at all. All the little things kept running through my mind, like what she had written in my yearbook the previous 2 years. Now when I look back and see the “autograph” I feel like pulling the pages out but whether it’s there or not, I will never forget what a fool she made out of me. Excerpt from 10th grade’s yearbook: “Perhaps you may never even remember me. I hope you will never forget me. How about in 20 years we can meet out at the tree fort (a place we were at a lot, it was by her house). Don’t forget to bring Joe along too. I wonder what we’ll look like in 20 years. Don’t you dare bring along the 14 snots you’ll probably have. You are definitely coming up to the cabin.” Excerpt from 11th grade’s yearbook: “I sure hope before school starts again that Joe comes to visit us. If he doesn’t, I’m so tempted to ride out there (Bismark, ND). There’s a bunch from the cabin that want to go out in Sept. and surprise him for his birthday. That’s only if he doesn’t show up. Oh well, we’ll just have to keep  hoping”.

 

After the concert I was walking around in a daze. Nancy pointed out the Mark “Joe” guy and sure enough it was the guy in the picture. I thought I would vomit. Nancy told me that tomorrow we’d all meet after school and find out what the hell was going on. I was stone silent on the way home and my parents didn’t know what was wrong. I didn’t want to tell them about it until I knew the full story. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t believe it wasn’t true. I went up in my room and dug out the shoebox full of “Joe’s” letters. I sat and stared at the box of letters for the longest time and couldn’t bring myself to read them. Finally I took one out and read it. The full realization hit me. I could tell by the writing style that it was Kathy. I had sort of noticed this before and when I mentioned it to her, she had said her and Joe sounded so much alike because they spent so much time together. Little things started to make sense to me that I had never found strange before. Like: the name on the back of the picture was wrong, how Kathy never let me send a letter to Joe directly or give me his address or phone number, how she kept saying she wanted me to come up to the cabin but all along she had no intention of getting me anywhere near there or she would be found out. How somehow or another Joe’s plans to visit were always foiled by car accidents, car trouble, etc. It was like a light had dawned in my brain opening up showing how when homework was too much or Kathy was too busy, Joe would never write. i do believe she might even have been trying to break it off by having Joe move away to Bismark, ND, or maybe she was getting fearful she would get caught. SHE IS THE MOST AMAZING LIAR AND WHAT AN ACTRESS! I still marvel at how she could be crying like she was when she called to tell me we wouldn’t be going to the square dance because of the dreadful accident. I grew violently angry and threw the letters across the room.

 

Suddenly I broke into sobs that have probably never been rivaled since. I cried most of the night even though the next day was a school day and the last day before Thanksgiving and Val would be coming to stay. I was still weeping when I picked up the letters and put them back in the shoebox and place them back in the depths of my closet. Of course, I wasn’t anxious about school the next day but I was curious to find out what Kathy’s excuse was for putting me through hell and playing with my life. I saw her during the day but she ran away from me, trying to avoid me. I could hardly contain myself ’til the end of the day, I still tried hard to pretend it wasn’t my friend who had betrayed me. After school in the hall, Nancy, Sandy and I waited for Kathy to show up but when she didn’t, Nancy went to get her. Mrs. Hauert was picking us up after school. Suddenly Kathy appeared with Nancy, Kathy had her nice down filled coat on from “Jonah” and was obviously trying to get out of this meeting. I did all the talking and in a cool, calm, collected voice, I said to her that I was really trying to understand why she had done it but I couldn’t. I asked her to explain and that I wasn’t made (even though I was steaming) and that I would forgive her if only she would tell me WHY. WHY OH WHY. She couldn’t look me in the eye and wouldn’t even speak to me. I kept asking her why and that I needed to know or I would never be at peace. She burst into tears and fled the building. Geez, I didn’t know what to think except that I would never get an explanation. We tried to follow her because in her state who knows what she would have done. Her mom conveniently showed up in their truck and we got in and searched the streets for her. She was walking in the rain and when she saw us coming she ran faster trying to escape us. At this time I got to exchange a few words with Kathy’s mom who didn’t think the situation was at all serious! Boy, that upset me more than anything, that she so obviously needed psychiatric help and her mother scoffed it off insisting that Kathy was just playing a practical jok on me. FOR TWO YEARS? I mentioned to her that kathy had said Jonah had bought her that coat and Mrs. Hauert exclaims “Why that’s nonsense! WE bought there that coat last Christmas!” The more I thought about it the more I realized that everything Kathy had said in the past few years had been a lie! I couldn’t think of a single thing that she had said that was true! And how could I ever believe her now?

 

No one knew to what extreme this “pretending and make believe” had come to except myself and Kathy. Not a single person knew each individual lie as I did. We finally picked Kathy up a few blocks from school and she only got in the car when I got out and pulled her in showing her I didn’t blame her. Hah! Once inside the truck, she kept crying and hiding her face, refusing to look at me or speak. Somehow something had clicked and Mrs. Hauert said she would consider taking Kathy to a psychiatrist. I felt better already. One thing Mrs. Hauert insisted on was that I never tell any  living soul about the whole incident.Not anyone at school especially. Since my parents raised me to keep my mouth shut, I was excellent at keeping secrets. What happened later made me wish I hadn’t been such a “good” person.

 

After being driven home, I had about 15 minutes to collect my thoughts before Val arrived. We were going to Minneapolis to see YIPES! in concert. My mom was leaving for work when I got home and I desperately needed to tell her what happened but couldn’t because of no time. I didn’t get the chance the whole weekend. I was quite a wreck the whole time Val was there but I hit it well. But still, every time my mind was at rest, it would flit back to that horrid ordeal. I never told Val about that incident until a year ago and it had little effect on her since she didn’t go through it. Besides, who could really believe such an incredible tale, anyway? I don’t believe I would if someone told me. The only other person in the world that knows is my mom who was a great help to me but the whole ugly mess remains unresolved inside of me. It wasn’t so much a disappointment that there was no Joe, I could  handle that. It was the many hours lost spent writing to a nonexistent person, talking with Kathy for hours about people who weren’t alive nor ever would be. It was the fact that she was playing with people’s lives–I thank God that Diane didn’t get “involved” with “John” in the same way I did “Joe”. This taught me quite a lesson about myself. I still trust too easily in some cases but not like I did then.

 

I had only 2 things on my mind after that it was GET EVEN and REVENGE. I thought about it constantly but I never did anything. I would have enjoyed nothing more than to tell our friends, Diane and Roger especially, what Kathy had done. Not so much to get them to dislike her but to prove that it had happened and give me sympathy, I think. She had told lots of people about Jonah and I was itching to see her made a fool of. At school I went on as if nothing happened (to respect her mother’s wish) and acted as friendly as ever to Kathy–always remembering she was “sick” and that she would be getting help and stop her evil ways. The thing that put the stake through my heart though was that after that Kathy was very cool to me like I had ruined all her plans and she would never forgive me. She went so far as to keep everyone I found dear away from me. She talked about me saying mean things and I ended up eating lunch alone. That was about all it took and I was ready to bring out my “proof” (the letters from “Joe”) for the whole school to see. I’m really not that kind of person though and my mom kept assuring me that someday she’d get what’s coming to her. I found that hard to believe. Especially when I heard from Kathy’s mother that they had taken Kathy to a psychiatrist and after one appointment had told Mr. & Mrs. Hauert that kathy had many deep rooted psychological problems that would take years to resolve and that she displayed psychotic behavior. I heartily agreed but then Mrs. Hauert sprung the biggie onme. Kathy refused to go and since she was over 18, they couldn’t force her to do it against her will. And besides, she went on, they couldn’t afford it and she still wasn’t convinced that the whole thing hadn’t been one of Kathy’s “acts or schemes” to get attention. Thus, Kathy went unpunished, unreprimanded even and there I was feeling that my world had fell apart. I would see her at school and know that there was no justice, life just wasn’t fair. Not too long after that my mom convinced to throw out the entire box of letters because every time I looked at them I became miserable. No sooner had I done it I regretted it because I now have no “proof” that it happened and in an odd way I need that to this day to convince myself that it wasn’t just a horrible nightmare. All I have to remind me is the deep emotional scars left behind. THE END.

 

After reading this again I am struck by my willingness to believe no matter what. I am a pretty logical person and if things don’t add up, I can usually figure it out and say so. The fact that Kathy had a ready answer for any question that I had helped to keep me snowed. I would have totally never fallen for this if I actually believed anyone could think up such an elaborate ruse. My mind just doesn’t work like that so I had/have a hard time coming to terms with those that do. What did she have to gain? Basically, she was the cat and I was the mouse. I was her plaything and she could toy with my emotions whenever the mood struck her. If only she had channeled all that “creativity” and imagination for good instead of evil. She would be a best-selling author now.

 

This would’ve made a good episode of a tv talk show where they confront someone who has done you wrong in front of a live audience. I really don’t ever want to cross paths with Kathy and feel sorry for anyone who has in the ensuing years. I’m sure she still thinks she did nothing wrong. Meanwhile, I am ashamed that I fell for her tricks hook, line and sinker. I’m not a dumb person but feel very stupid. This was a time before computers and the Internet. All the crazy things people are capable of and I’m always the one who thinks no one could possibly do that. My conscience is always working overtime and I forget there are others who have none.

Frustration Level To The Moon

I seem to live my life nearly frantic. It always feels like it’s spiraling out of control and I feel powerless. Adding the 3rd dog (Puppy Elvis) to the household has seemed to backfire. Hubby was gone for 8 nights (9 days) to Oklahoma City the end of last month. Singlehandedly, I had the responsibility of him 24/7 for 9 days without a break. If this was a test, I failed miserably. Sure, I survived but I was unable to get what I wanted to accomplish done or even relax and unwind. My frustration level has been to the moon. You could even say I’m an astronaut because I’ve been there more than once.

 

Obviously, I’ve dealt with puppies before (this is my 5th as an adult) and even a Jack Russell Terrier once before. I don’t know if it’s the fact there are now 3 canines to contend with or if it is me and my nerves/emotional state. I seem to be on edge constantly, no patience with the worst temper I’ve ever had in my life. I have to keep telling myself that Elvis will grow out of this puppyhood and be as good a dog as the other 2. They’re not perfect and still get into things at times but for the most part are wonderful. I’ve spent a lot of time working with them. It’s very hard working with Elvis when he seems to have no attention span at all and Amber and Ivy keep trying to get in on whatever I’m trying to teach him.

 

We have doggy gates for the kitchen, one blocking the stairs to the basement and one from the kitchen into the dining room. The barriers couldn’t even contain Elvis for a day. He was climbing up and over, repeatedly. We’ve been feeding Elvis his puppy food in the kitchen and the other 2 have their bowls and water in the dining room. Our vet is always incredulous that they eat together out of the same bowl. Amber and Ivy have always gotten along well but since Elvis showed up, they don’t fight at all anymore. It seems to have bonded them together. So aside from putting Elvis in his wire cage, he’s with me every second. Following me around, sitting on my lap or he’s into trouble. I can’t stand putting him in his cage and use it as a last resort because he chirps so loud, it hurts my ears. Our other dogs have crates they go in to sleep at night and we want to get Elvis trained to sleep in his but that hasn’t worked out.

 

We took him on vacation with us in the RV less than a week after we got him. The other dogs are well-behaved enough to sleep loose in the RV (no room for cages anyway) and Elvis slept with us. Now trying to break him of it will result in us not getting sleep for how many nights?! So we are waiting until everything else in life settles down before attempting the sleep deprivation.

 

We got Elvis neutered the beginning of last month and it was nearly impossible to keep him down for 10 days. We did well to make it a week. He wasn’t allowed to go on walks with the other dogs, no running or jumping, etc. No wonder my nerves are shot. He was on the leash for a week and never left my side. At least that’s over with but it felt like an eternity. 2012 has been one rough year already.

 

When hubby was gone, I started questioning if we did the right thing by getting Elvis. He has pushed me past my limit so many times and I don’t like the things I am feeling. Even though I don’t have kids, I can imagine I’m having a lot of the same feelings as a mother of small children.

 

Elvis loves to grab the other dogs’ leashes in his mouth and carry them around. With them on the other end. When I try to get them all leashed up to go on the daily walk, he grabs them and pulls them all over. He wrapped it all around Amber’s legs which gets her so angry and upset. I keep hoping that in a few months things will be better around here. In the meantime, I’m making it through one day at a time…and using Twitter as stress relief. :-0

 

As I was posting this, Elvis climbed into the laundry basket of clean towels and laid down for a nap…lucky for him he’s so cute.

 

A Day In The Life

A day in my life starts the night before. I’m one of those people who worry about everything so I try to make my life easier whenever I can. Which means doing things ahead of time whenever possible so I won’t feel rushed or forget. It also means thinking of every possible scenario and having a backup plan for everything if the original plan doesn’t work out. Of course, being human, I can’t think of everything and things happen daily that I’m unprepared for.

 

I make my husband’s 2 sandwiches the night before and put them in the fridge. I lay out his fruit (2 apples, orange, banana) and his snack mix (I make it every 2 wks or so and put it in little baggies–pretzels, m&ms, peanuts, almonds, raisins) on the kitchen counter. I make sure there are filled water bottles for him to take in the fridge. Then I place 3 cereal bowls on the counter (for hubby, Mom & me) with our vitamins and meds in them. Only once was I so sleepy that I forget to take them and put cereal and milk on top of them. Talk about nasty taste! I lay out a banana and her coffee cup for my mom, along with spoons. Sometimes I lay out a medicinal patch which I have to put on Mom every 4th day. I keep track of it on the calendar in the kitchen by putting a NP (new patch) on the day she’s supposed to get it.

 

In the morning, I have a routine I pretty much stick to like Rainman. I get up, get dressed while Elvis plays with some toys on the bed. I take him downstairs and let Ivy and Amber out of their beds. Amber’s bed is stacked on top of Ivy’s so I open her door, kneel down on one knee and have Amber jump out on my other knee and I give her a big hug and kiss. Then I open up Ivy’s bed and she runs out and they all go to the door. I let all the dogs out while I turn the heat up and open all the blinds/curtains. Let the dogs back in and drink water, then take care of my bathroom duties. Then I wake my mother up (sometimes I have to do this up to 3 times before she gets up). I feed the dogs before I feed myself. I have the 2 types of food in different containers that are air tight and I refill them as needed. I mix up more water with Benefiber and drink it during or after my Raisin Bran.

 

I make a pot of coffee for my mom and a glass container full of tea for hubby which he drinks on ice. I make 2 trays of ice cubes a minimum of once per day, sometimes 3 times a day. Hubby likes to chew ice and he shares it with the dogs as well.

 

I wash my glasses, then wash my mom’s glasses. Then I use Smooth Away (glorified sandpaper) on my chin hair. While eating my cereal and inbetween other stuff, I’m checking my iphone for the weather, my email, Twitter and Instagram. I’m not always able to read much of it or tweet but do what I can. Meanwhile, Elvis has stolen something that is forbidden and is chewing it up. I proceed to chase him which only serves to make him run away and my temper flares up. He is just delighted to see this big human dodging and weaving as I try to grab either him or the item in question. He also spends the day stealing things off one of the tables or knocking things over as he and his sisters play tag.

 

By this time I am figuring out what I’m making for dinner. Yes, I try to figure it out by mid-morning. I love cooking but it takes up a big section of my day. Whether I put something in the crockpot, oven or stove, it takes me about 2 hrs to make whatever I plan to serve. I like to have a homecooked meal ready when hubby gets home from work at 7 pm.

 

I take the dogs for a half hour walk every day, usually around 10 am. I have 2 routes I go (in opposite directions) that are a half hour each so I don’t have to time myself, I know when we get back home, it’s been a half hour. I do this year round unless the temperature is below 16 degrees, then I skip it. The dogs have a fenced in backyard to run in so they get plenty of exercise besides tearing around the house. The walk just gets rid of their excess energy at the beginning of the day and settles them down some so I can do other things. I also used to really enjoy walking in our neighborhood, meeting other dogs and their owners and talking to people. Since we got Elvis, it is really hard to manage the 3 leashs without getting tangled. I’m not loving it like I was but I’m hoping that changes as he gets older.

 

When I get back, I unload and load the dishwasher or take care of other chores like picking up mountains of dog toys, vacuuming the whole house, etc. Occasionally if I get some free time to myself, I will sit at the dining room table and sign a couple slams. As soon as I sit down, Amber brings me a ball or toy and wants to play. I usually drop everything and humor her since she loves playing fetch so much. Sometimes I go online and comment on a few blogs or I may even write a blog post of my own. I need to go through my email but it is so daunting that I try to get through it only when I can stand it, a few pieces at a time, about once a week. Any type of computer activity takes place with my laptop on the arm of the recliner and Elvis in my lap.

 

Then there are things I take care of but not daily: I’ll pay bills either online or via paper check, update the checkbook, go in the basement and read the water meter to send in with payment, call in mine or my hubby’s prescriptions to the automated refill at Jewel, order my mom’s prescriptions through Caremark (mail order), take mom to the ENT doctor to get the wax removed from her ears, take mom to the audiologist to get her hearing aid checked, replace battery in wireless mouse or remote control, order dogs’ heartworm medication from 1800PetMeds, etc.

 

Then there are the interruptions that happen as a matter of course in life: Mom needing a new hearing aid battery (I carry them in my purse), car battery being dead, car tires being low, gas being low, running out of milk or bread, any number of things breaking down around the house, etc. Our lawn mower broke down in early Nov. and hubby had to rent one for $22 to do the grass for the last time that year. We still have to take ours in to be fixed/tuned up. Our vacuum quit working even after all new belts and filters were put on. So we replaced it with a Dyson–so far, so good. Our snowblower quit working in mid-Jan. so hubby took it in to be fixed. That cost $185-it does work but so far no snow. Our 15 yr. old living room tv died so we went hi-tech with a Sony HD tv. We also need a new roof, new furniture, the list goes on.

 

By this time it is lunchtime (1 pm) and I feed the dogs first. Then I make Mom and I a sandwich or a salad. We watch The Bold & The Beautiful and The Young & The Restless while we eat lunch. The dogs pester us while we eat. Amber is well behaved and lays down next to me and waits for me to give her the crusts off my bread. Ivy stands over grandma and anything that falls she snatches up immediately. Elvis takes turns going from one of us to the other.

 

After lunch we get the mail which I then sort and put the junkmail into a box to be shredded. The rest of it I file away in a drawer until time to deal with. I may bake a dessert or start some laundry.  I may make some address labels or birthday cards on the computer which leads me to realize we are out of ink and I order more. Then I will deal with customers from our online collectible business. Someone will want to buy something which has me making a trip to either the basement, the shed or the garage to make sure we still have it. After our basement flooding so many times, things have been moved and ruined so we always need to make sure it’s here. Then I need to weigh the item and quote shipping. When they pay, I type up an invoice on the computer and hubby and I wrap it either at night when he gets home or on the weekend.

 

By this time I am getting the dinner ready to serve. At which point the giant serving spoon I use crumbles as I try to spoon up the casserole. We eat at 7 pm and watch tv afterwards. I put the leftovers away and repeat the whole cycle again. There are dozens of other things I contend with that I don’t mention but you get the idea. Nothing too exciting but it keeps me busy never the less. Now let’s hear about a day in the life of every one of you!

 

 

 

 

I’d lived a whole life by age 21…or so I’d thought!

 Back when I was 21, I fancied myself a writer. I enjoyed writing for the sake of writing. I had a penpal who I’d known since I was 18 and felt especially close to because we both shared a love of groupie-ing. (That’s a whole other blog post.) I suggested we both write our life story and share with the other. Yeah, at 21 I thought I had lived already. So we swapped memoirs and got to know each other even better. Consequently, as time passed and I moved to another state and our basement flooded, I lost track of where my one and only hard copy was. This was before computers, people. The only people who I had let read mine were this penpal, my husband (before we got married) and a psychologist I went to a handful of times. (That’s an entire blog post there as well.) I wasn’t agonizing over the fact that I couldn’t locate it. There’s a chance it’s here somewhere. But I did ask this penpal, who I’m still in touch with via Twitter, if she still had the copy I sent her. Thankfully, she still did and offered to send me a copy just before Christmas. We were out of state for the holiday so I didn’t get a chance to peruse it until Jan. Even then, I could only stomach a bit of it at a time.

Here are some of the revelations I got after I read it:

1) Boy, I was really a good writer. I wish I could write half as good now.

2) I really swore a lot in my writing. I don’t remember starting to swear IRL until I was 25 and started working nights at the Post Office. It was a factory type setting where everyone swore like longshoremen. In this memoir, I was throwing around every cuss word I could think of, just for emphasis.

3) I’ve always had a flair for the dramatic but OMG, I almost can’t stand how melodramatic I was. It makes me realize that I’ve actually toned it down quite a bit.

4) It wasn’t a full life story. I dwelled on a lot of incidents and events but clearly not everyone or everything. A lot of what I mentioned then is unimportant to me now. Some of what I left out was really noticeable to me as well.

5) I don’t remember some things or I remember them differently. Other things are still the same in my memory bank. Weird.

6) A lot of what I told seemed intensely personal at the time but now I would probably air most of it on my blog, a chapter at a time. Mine didn’t consist of chapters. It was one 50 page run on sentence. With punctuation.

7) I still feel stupid for being so gullible and letting a “friend” take advantage of my trusting nature. I’m no longer as angry about it but I haven’t forgiven her either. I no longer feel a need to protect her and now want the world to know what kind of person she is. The damage from this incident is why I can’t really have friends or don’t have friends. A future blog post will recount word for word how she “played” me.

8) I need to write about the years since I was 21. Those are just as important, if not more. I need to write about all the ups & downs of my adulthood before I forget them. Obviously, some will never be forgotten but plenty will if not documented.

9) I’ve always been a sensitive person but I noticed how much more deeply I felt things. Everything was a huge insult, a criticism, a snub, etc. I was hyper-sensitive and took everything to heart. I’ve outgrown this to a degree just from no longer tolerating being a doormat or taking crap from anyone.

10) I can’t believe how much I used to lie! Not in the memoir, I told the truth about everything in there. I even mentioned how I lied to people and what lies I told. These weren’t things I ever said to impress anyone, it was what I considered self preservation. People would ask me things and I would feel bad so I’d lie. Like if I didn’t have a job, I felt terrible. I wanted to work but didn’t have enough experience so couldn’t get hired. If someone asked me, I would say I worked part -time at such and such. I felt like letting on that I didn’t have a job was admitting I was a failure. I felt like a failure. Another part of my life story was my disappointing 18th birthday which made me feel like my life was ruined. When some of my “friends” asked what I’d done, I lied and said I’d gone out with a friend, instead of what really happened–staying home. When I look at it written in black & white, it looks awful to lie like that. I never lied to make anyone else look bad or feel bad. I hope this is something I’ve outgrown.

11) Possibly the best thing I learned from reading my life story which was titled, “The Heartbreaking Saga of The Life & Times of Chrisor Bowana” was that I need to own my story. I need to bring it out into the light and not keep any of it in darkness any longer. Sometimes I think I know myself very well, too well. Other times I wonder if I’ve even looked deep enough into my being to know for sure.

 

Stay tuned for excerpts from the first 21 yrs of my life! They will confound you but also make you know a life was lived…

My Resolution Stands: No New Year’s Resolutions

Since the arrival of 2012 (and probably a few weeks before), people have been blogging their New Year’s Resolutions. They have such high hopes for the New Year, setting goals, making wishes out loud and planning to become “better” by announcing their will to lose weight, save money, read more books, spend more time with loved ones, devote time to relaxing or growing their own vegetables, pampering themselves via spa treatments, etc. The lists go on and on. I have nothing against New Year’s Resolutions for others, aside from being skeptical that they will be long lasting. For myself? I don’t think I’ve made any since I was about 15 years old! I already knew myself well enough to know that a diet I would start on Jan. 1st would not make it to Day 12. It wouldn’t matter what I would resolve to do, I have poor follow-through.

 

Due to not wanting to set myself up for failure, I decline to set goals or announce any big plans that will more than likely fall through. Ideally, I suppose even the most happy people have something they want to better about themselves or their lives. I shouldn’t say I don’t want to “better myself” but I don’t want to be unrealistic. I don’t want to set myself up for disappointment, to be made worse for not accomplishing something else. Also by broadcasting my resolutions, it just draws attention to my inability to follow through and shows how lacking I am as a human being.

 

If I had a resolution this year? It would be to blog more. I can’t even make that “promise” since I know deep down, I’d be content if I even blogged as much as I did last year. It’s too easy NOT to do things. A resolution doesn’t really put the right kind of pressure on me. It doesn’t motivate me but it does make me feel like I’m not living up to what I could or should be doing. Hence, to me, it’s a negative thing, not a positive one.

 

I try to be positive in life as much as I can which seems to have caused me to drop my own expectations for myself. In some ways I have thrown in the towel on things like trying to lose weight, dressing up, keeping a dust-free house, etc. I don’t really push myself beyond trying to be a human being. I don’t know if that makes sense but some days it’s a victory just to survive. Not that my life is so bad or anything of the sort. It’s more a feeling like whatever I get done over and above the basics every day, is a bonus. I get dressed every day, no matter what. I haven’t resorted to laying around at home, expecting others to do things for me. I wonder if I’m letting myself off the hook but not striving for betterment? I don’t know if people are doing those things to impress others or just to make themselves feel better inside. I don’t think setting goals and riding myself hard to complete them would make me feel better inside.

 

Reading others’ New Year’s Resolutions makes me feel like an underachiever most of the time. The stuff people think up to do is quite ambitious. My favorites are ones like “Smile more at random strangers”.  Now they’re coming up with one word that you’re supposed to choose to define your 2012. I’m not someone who could limit myself to 1 word to describe ANYTHING. I couldn’t even pick several words for this year. If you held a gun to my head, I would come up with one: HELP. Not to get help from others or even to give help to others but to help myself as much as possible. I worry too much. I hold myself to a standard that most couldn’t live up to: expecting my memory to be perfect, expecting myself to be able to think of everything at all times, berating myself when I make mistakes (big or small), etc. I need to help myself cope with life so it’s not such a struggle. Sometimes I feel bad saying my life can be a struggle. Obviously, it’s not–it’s my perception of my life. I am so naive to think that even though life isn’t fair, if I do everything right, life will go smoothly. It doesn’t!! Never has and never will! And yet, I can’t accept that and still think I have some kind of control. Even at my age, I’ve got a lot to learn…

Why does anyone need 3 dogs?

As everything else in my life, adding a new family member happened in a whirlwind. My husband & I had talked in the past about possibly getting a 3rd dog. The city we live in allows only 3 dogs max so the discussion ends at 3. We didn’t know if we could handle 3 so just tabled the idea. Since our beloved Jack Russell Terrier Bridget died in May 2008, we’ve missed having a Jack. Occasionally hubby would look online at JRT puppies but hadn’t seen any that called to him. Then Oct. 28th he was looking under the website Petfinder and saw the face that would melt 1,000 hearts. He showed it to me and I thought it was adorable, as did my mom who lives with us. Temporarily named Rascal, he was (then) an 8 week old male from a Kill Shelter in Georgia. Just to think of that poor, sweet puppy being killed hurts me through and through. Rascal was saved by Catahoula Rescue of South Elgin, IL and had been placed with a foster mom who had 7 other dogs. She had him since Oct. 14th and was fostering 2 other similar aged puppies from the same shelter. We had never heard of the Catahoula breed of dog and found it odd they were rescuing outside their breed.

 

My husband emailed the rescue to see if Rascal was still available. He was and they sent back an application that needed to be filled out before any further discussion went on about even seeing the puppy. We’ve always avoided any type of application process when adopting our other dogs because it just seems like too much trouble! This application was 5 pages long asking for references and every question under the sun pertaining to current dogs. From what dog food we give them, to if we crate them at all, the size of our yard and if we have a fence, etc. My husband filled it out and sent it back that night. We knew they had to call our vet to see if we keep up with vaccinations and how we are as pet owners. They don’t seem to take anyone’s word for anything. It sounds like a lot of people lie about things…

 

Then we found out we would need a home visit! That just about did it for me. My first reaction was to say no way. If I wanted to go through all that, I’d adopt a human child! I don’t like feeling like I’m being treated like a criminal. I also am very funny about having people come in the house. Don’t get me wrong, I like entertaining at times under the right circumstances. I haven’t been able to have the house the way I want since we started running a home business and the basement keeps flooding. It makes things not as organized as I’d like. If I know we’re not having people over, I don’t stress about it. I vacuum and clean every week but don’t dust as often as I should or knock myself out. If it’s between dusting or playing with the dogs, you’ll find me playing with the dogs.

 

I don’t judge others on how they keep house. If someone opens their home to me, I am just grateful they invited me in and enjoy their company. I know others are not this way and so I worry about being judged for a less than perfect house. My husband doesn’t worry about such things but I say it’s because it only reflects on me, not him. Anyway, it was a really big deal to me to have this home visit and be scrutinized. At first I told him no, I couldn’t/wouldn’t do it. Then I thought about it and decided I couldn’t deny him his dream of having a Jack Russell. So then we had to figure out when the home visit would take place. We couldn’t do it Monday Oct. 31st because we were having trick or treaters from 3-8 pm. So then we decided on Wed. That would basically give me 1 day to clean and get ready. I’m happy to say I got the living room almost to my standards and just basic stuff in the other rooms. If I’d had a couple weeks, I could’ve done more.

 

Tracie (the foster mom) came on Wed. at 11am and brought all 3 puppies for us to see. First she came in alone and got to meet our dogs. Amber barked a little but then settled down and was fine. Ivy loves everybody so took to her right away. Then she brought Rascal in and we fell in love with him. He is just the sweetest, most loving pup. He ran up to both dogs right away and they all started playing. Then we took them outside, into the backyard. Rascal ran around like crazy and had a great time. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to catch him. Tracie saw we’d be fine with him. She mentioned that she had one couple return a dog because it was too affectionate! That it wanted to be up on the couch with them and they had just gotten a new couch so returned the dog. I can’t even fathom it!! I had told Tracie on the phone before I met her, “You can either have nice things or you can have dogs. I choose dogs”. That pretty much sums me up in a nutshell.

 

We found out we couldn’t get Rascal that day. Tracie was taking him to the vet for shots and he was getting microchipped. The adoption fee was $350 but that covers some of his vaccinations, the microchipping and his neutering. We  have to take him to their designated vet in Jan. to have the procedure done. So we set up a time to meet her in Elgin the next day. We store our RV in Elgin so figured we’d go early and clean and vacuum it before picking up the new puppy. Hubby had us leaving on vacation 5 days after adopting the puppy! Within 2 hours of picking up the pup, we had taken him to our vet to be checked out. It turns out he had Coccidia (an intestinal parasite) which is common in puppies. We had to give him 10 days of antibiotics and then get a stool sample checked to make sure it was cleared up. We were down in Mississippi on vacation then but found a vet in Hernando, MS to visit. Puppy was fine and I just about fell over when they didn’t charge us!! Talk about southern hospitality! Our vet charges a minimum of $50 for the same thing and we’ve been going there for over a decade. To have strangers do such a nice thing really lightened my spirit.

 

I’m sure people wonder why anyone needs 3 dogs. 2 is plenty. Most people couldn’t handle 2. Why does anyone need 3 (or more) children? I guess the answer is they don’t. They just want them. It’s kind of crazy that a city limits the number of dogs you can have but not the number of kids. If properly cared for, dogs are a true family member, like real children. I’ve seen some moms complain that they hate when people compare pets to children. They just don’t get it. If you don’t have kids, they ARE your children.

 

The temporary name Rascal was cute but we wanted to name the pup ourselves. We all agreed on Elvis and now he’s finally answering to the name. He also follows me everywhere and wants to nap on top of me when he’s not roughhousing with his sisters. This is our first shelter pet and I didn’t know they could be so wonderful. Elvis has made himself at home in our home and in our hearts. He is our forever dog, as all of them are. The irony is that the day we adopted him was Bridget’s birthday (Nov. 3). I’ve got to believe she was happy about our new addition. Now our family is complete.