What Really Matters?

Sometimes we get so absorbed in this day-to-day experiment called life, we accidentally forget what Really Matters. The grocery store runs out of an ad item or somebody cuts us off on the highway or we burn a birthday cake. But, do any of those things Really Matter?

This week, I had a couple of unexpected life-lessons that reminded me for the umteenth time what Really Matters. I am a bit disappointed in myself for needing reminders, but I guess I am no different than anybody else. We get so engrossed in the present moments we forget about the grander importance of the long term.

The last time I got the message was about a month ago when my step father passed away. That ended a certain branch on the family tree. A life-time of memories have been created but cannot be recaptured or modified. After his death, I realized “again” the type of things that Really Matter.

The time before that was 8 months earlier when my sister Carol lost a long battle with cancer.

I don’t know why it is so easy to temporarily forget those critical reminders and ooze back into our day-to-day lives, where we lend way too much importance to trivial things instead.

This week, I entered a speech contest and botched my speech…but does that Really Matter?

How many people do you suppose would love to trade their problems for mine? Wives of wounded soldiers, mothers of sick children, Fans of the Denver Broncos!

I spent a couple days trying to put that speech into perspective. It wasn’t overly difficult. I received at least ten kind and supportive emails. It was easy to see that people matter and botched speeches don’t.

Then, Monday evening I got another one of those “special” reminders.

About 6 weeks ago we took in a short-term addition to our home. Chyna ("China") is mostly Saint Bernard.

When you foster a dog, you don’t always know its background but Chyna brought several clues about her past with her. She is about 4 years old, house broken, well behaved. She walks well on a leash, she is a record-setting tail wager, she sits, lies down, shakes and goes to her bed on command. In spite of those great qualities, Chyna comes with baggage.

There are the usual things about Saints: their size, slobber and shedding, happy tails that clear the coffee table, train-loads of food and poop the size of footballs. But in Chyna’s case there was still another issue.

She must have come from a place where there was a lot of competition for food because she eats her dinner as fast as she can. She can wolf down a bowl full of Kibbles faster than a commercial grade garbage disposal.

Then there is this other issue. Somebody allowed her to get ridiculously obese. We have been walking her everyday and watching her diet. She has peeled off 8-10 pounds over six weeks. Even though she is regaining her girlish figure, she still weighs nearly 150 lbs and could stand to lose 20 more.

You have to wonder, why somebody would show so much attention to a dog and teach her all those wonderful tricks and then let her get so out of shape…and then abandon her…what were they thinking?

After Chyna’s Monday walk, I was on the computer trying to research some ways to slow down her eating habits and came across some information from a vet who said Chyna’s habit can be very dangerous. When dogs eat like that, they can take in way too much air and become bloated. If the bloating is not caught soon enough, their stomach can twist and that can easily lead to their death, usually within an hour.

A little later, after her dinner, she went outside like she always does. We watched her out the window for a minute and Chyna started acting silly. She was running around in circles and plopping on her belly, then getting back up again, then repeating the pattern.

Suddenly, my wife, who is a lifetime caregiver, realized Chyna was not playing…something was wrong. A quick examination revealed that Chyna had indeed bloated. Her stomach was huge and hard as a rock.

In an instant, my wife called the leader of the Rescue group with whom we work. Brent knew exactly what to do…Stop everything else and rush to the animal hospital. Chyna was at a crossroad.

Fortunately, Patty’s quick thinking, Brent’s knowledge and a $2500 medical procedure saved Chyna’s life. Nobody knows if she will bloat again but if she does the surgery assures her stomach will not twist and she will not die from it. A couple GasX pills can safely release the air in her stomach.

We picked up Chyna yesterday and she is on the road to recovery. In a couple days we will be able to take her for walks again. But when we do, we have to gather her leash and that sets her in a wild frenzy. No dog gets more excited about going for walks than Chyna does. All one-hundred and fifty pounds leaps up and down and whirls around as if she was auditioning for Dancing with the Stars and Considering what Chyna has been through, that my friends, is the kind of thing that Really Matters.

Smashin Compassion

I have been a little busy lately and unable to get back to this blog. I entered a humorous speech contest at my Toastmaster club and advanced farther than I expected. First there were tryouts at our own club. There are 20 members but only 3 wanted to give it a try. On the day of the tryouts, one of the ladies, was unable to make it. Therefore it was just me and Scott. I won and went on to the Area Meet which was a competition between six winners/survivors from 8 clubs. They broke us into two groups and I won again. That meant...on to the Division Meet...where I would compete with the top 6 winners/survivors from about 28 clubs. I got second and a small trophy. I lost to a lady who spoke about the wrinkles on her neck. We both had 'em laughing out loud for seven minutes. What a kick!!!

It is not easy to capture a speech in written form, because it is difficult to illustrate pauses, changes in pace, volume, pitch and body language. But I wrote it out the best I could. Here is the speech in written form. It is about my real-life problem trying to kill a mouse. Perhaps it will make you smile.

SMASHIN' COMPASSION

(Sing first two lines from Mighty Mouse Theme Song) “Here I come to save the day…my name is Mighty Mouse, I’m on the way”

Mighty Mouse was a popular cartoon character in the late 50’s to early 60’s

I actually met MM one time in a real-life situation, only he wasn’t wearing his cape.

It all started when there was some construction near our home and some field mice went looking for a new place to live. A couple of them found our home. When that happens, it’s Dastardly Dave’s responsibility to get rid of them

I set a few traps including one under the sink and just like that…Snap (loud clap) one of them went off

I went to the cabinet and there was a bunch of commotion in there.

We had indeed caught a mouse, but it was by the tail.

(fast) He was a running around in that cabinet trying to get away from that trap, but the faster he ran the faster the trap followed. Then he started jumping up and down trying to shake off the trap, but nothing worked

(normal pace)What would you do if you were in my situation? Would you want to reach in that cabinet and grab that trap, knowing full well that that mouse was going to get on your hand?

(Louder and faster) Well that idea gave me the HEEBIE JEEBIES… and I didn’t want any part of that!!!

(normal pace) I decided I would get a sledge hammer and (act like hitting it) in one good swing, the whole thing would be over.

Just then the fair damsel who lives in out house figured out what was going on and inquired

(High pitched) “What are you gonna do, Dastardly Dave?”

When I told her what I had in mind she replied, “Oh no, that would be too gruesome.”

(new voice, like a commentator) I learned years before that the fair damsel will even wash my socks if she gets her way sometimes…this was one of those times

I got a pair of pliers, instead of a sledge hammer. The new idea was to catch the back of that trap and make a little chain, the links bein…my hand, the pliers, the trap, and the mouse, hangin by his tail. Then take him to the toilet and DUNK HIS LITTLE HEAD UNDER WATER UNTIL HE DROWNS… kinda like Dairy Queen does with your ice cream cones

But I found out when that little mouse’s head goes underwater, HE’S NO ICE CREAM CONE…he has a mind of his own.. and he wants out ...(higher pitch and faster) and the only way out was right back up that trap…(higher pitch and faster) and then he was getting close to the pliers…(higher pitch and faster) and next woulda been my hand……(higher pitch and faster) and that gave me the HEEBIE JEEBIES…(higher pitch and faster) and I didn’t want any part of that! (Exhale) WHEW!!! I had to think of something else.

While I had the chain in tact and hangin over the toilet, and the mouse still dangling by his tail, I wondered if I could flush the stool and while the water was whirling around use a screwdriver to release the tension on the spring so the little mouse would drop in the middle of the water, and off he would go to mousey heaven.

I decided to give that a try, only to discover the spring was stronger than I anticipated and instead of releasing the spring and the mouse’s tail, the pliers lost the grip of the trap so the trap and the mouse, still attached, both hit the whirling water and they both went away and my problem was solved (long pause)…or so I thought.

Two days later when we flushed the stool, the water came up instead of down and it was spilling over the rim right away. At that very moment, I heard (Hum the tune, “Here I come to save the day…”)

It was the ghost of Mighty Mouse, and he was comin back to avenge his death and he was comin after Dastardly Dave.

You see, inside a toilet there is a little ridge and everything has to go up over that ridge before it enters the sewer line, but the mouse and that trap were stuck in that ridge.

I went and got a plunger (make wooshing sounds) I couldn’t get ‘em out

I unfolded a coat hanger and put a cute little hook on the end..,

(quickly) Shoved it in, pulled it out

Twisted that thing all about

Wouldn’t get a mouse out

I even went and got a plumber snake…you know, one of those cables you twist round and round and they go up in the sewer lines,,,some of them will even take out tree roots…but they wouldn’t get that mouse out.

2 ½ hours later, I was out of ideas and exhausted. The only thing left to do was disconnect the stool from the floor and wall and take it outside, on the front lawn, and lay it on its side and reach through the bottom and all that yucky stuff and see if I could get the mouse from the bottom

(act like holding something heavy) When a fellow is walking around on his front yard with a used toilet and then he starts messin’ with the innards…(pause)…it catches his neighbor’s attention. So it was. Tom came over and asked…(fold arms take new voice) “What you doing, Dave?”

Well, Tom already thought I was a nut

One time I was practicing fly fishing in my driveway and I got my fishing line caught in a tree. The more I tried to get it out, the worse it got…Now I have a reputation of bein the only fellow in our neighborhood who goes fishin where there is no water

Tom already thought I was a nut

Because I put up a $2,000 fence...to keep in a $25 dog…that doesn’t even like to go outside

Now I had to explain what I was doing playing around in the business end of a toilet

Before I could say a word, the strangest thing happened. I still can’t explain it to this day. That little mouse, still attached to the trap, dead, and all shriveled up from bein’ under water for two days…just slid out the bottom of that toilet. He landed right at our feet on the grass.

You can bet Tom saw it all.

I looked up at him, and (wide eyed) he was starin’ down at that mouse…(whirl fingers by temples) and processin the information, but I could read his face just as clear as a bell…he was wonderin’, “What in the world is my stupid neighbor up to now?”

I was trying to think of something clever to say, but just then (louder) Mighty Mouse saved the day. That little mouse lifted up his head and said…(long pause)…(look around the audience for about 5 seconds)

(commentator voice) You know somethin’? I’m pretty sure that there are at least a couple of you out there who realize that mouse didn’t really say anything…HE WAS DEAD!

(point finger around the room) But, what does that say about the rest of the people at Toasmasters?...Some of us are liars and we all look forward to it. WE’RE SICK!

This story ends two years later, when the fair Damsel and Dastardly Dave caught another mouse in a similar situation. It too was very much alive. Having learned their lesson from mistakes of the past, we just scooped it up into a coffee can, drove it up to the mountains and let it go…

But as we were getting into the car to return home I swear I heard (Hum MM tune) He must have been the son of Mighty Mouse because their family beat Dastardly Dave again. END

Well, that is it. it doesn't really translate to written form, but nobody will punish us for trying. See you again soon!

Old Blue

I bought Old Blue on eBay. It is a '94 Chevy pickup. I have an unnatural attraction to it. It has lots of miles on it, but it seems to want to keep going. I am the second owner and the 4th owner. You read it correctly – I have owned it twice.

The original owner was the State of Colorado. They put 108,000 miles on it. When they were done with it they turned it over to the prison system. Prisoners put it in decent running shape and then listed it on eBay. I paid $1,800 for it. Not bad considering it had air conditioning, auto transmission, V-6 engine and a good interior. Overall I thought it was a good system. They got to learn a trade; I got a good deal and the state got some money from an old asset.

Old Blue has helped me remove hundreds of trees from the forest and that alone paid for it. But it has done a lot more than that. It has also hauled many cords of firewood over the mountain, most of which was given to my elderly step-father or sold by my nephew.

After I used it for about 5 years, a friend needed a cheap vehicle. I sold it to her , mostly as a favor. She had to put a few dollars into it, but not a lot. Eventually she saved up enough money to buy something better so I bought Old Blue back,

This week, I put another $1,000 bucks in it and I think it will last another few years. I am not sure what happens next. There are two people showing interest in it. Time will tell.

What ever happens, Old Blue will probably limp along like the old friend it has always been