A Tribute

Petunia the Pitbull Puppy

I normally use this space to write about my life but today I'd like to talk to you about someone else.

specifically, Aimee Gilbreath. She did something extraordinary. 

She adopted a puppy. 

Oh, it wasn't just any puppy. It was a Pit Bull puppy. But again, not just any Pit Bull puppy. A Pit Bull puppy with a cleft lip. This is Petunia the Pit Bull puppy's story.

  

Petunia was born in December 2014 with a bilateral cleft lip, cleft of the hard and soft palate, and hydrocephaly.  The backyard breeder who created her was kind enough to tube feed baby Petunia and keep her alive, but unwilling to put any money into her medical care when it became clear she would not be salable. Fortunately, instead of having Petunia euthanized or relinquishing her to a shelter the breeder turned the puppy over to rescue in early April 2015.

When Petunia arrived she weighed less than two pounds at nearly 14 weeks of age and was suffering from malnutrition and related complications. She was so sad and listless that first day it was not clear whether she had a chance. Fortunately, immediate veterinary treatment and round the clock care have turned Petunia into a happy, spunky puppy.  She has gained a pound and a half in less than three weeks and is now tipping the scales at over three pounds - more than a 50% increase in her body weight! Petunia now plays, barks, wags her tail and acts like a typical puppy.  She does not know that she is different and she's not letting her medical issues interfere with her enjoyment of life.

Petunia's medical team is optimistic that she can live a very happy life, which is great news.  The challenge is that getting her to that point is going to be a long and expensive process.  Petunia will need MRI imaging and at least one major surgery (and possibly more) to correct her severe cleft palate. UPDATE:  Our wonderful vets are giving Petunia an amazing discount so the estimate for her procedures has dropped from $20,000 to $12,000!  This is stunning because it includes an MRI an CT scan as well as the two surgeries she will need!

Petunia's foster Mama thinks that she can have a long and happy life and is fully committed to giving her that opportunity.  Will you please help give Petunia the future she deserves?  Any amount helps and all funds raised will go to cover the costs of Petunia's care.

Petunia's foster Mama thinks that she can have a long and happy life and is fully committed to giving her that opportunity.  Will you please help give Petunia the future she deserves?  Any amount helps and all funds raised will go to cover the costs of Petunia's care.

http://www.petuniapit.com/

This is from the fundraising website Aimee created for Petunia's medical expenses. But sadly Petunia lost her battle yesterday, Mother's day. This is from "Petunia's" Facebook page:

Dear Friends -

It is with a very heavy heart that I write to share the awful news that our dear sweet Petunia puppy left this earth last night. After a fantastic day filled with romping, snuggling, naps and playtime she suddenly lost consciousness and stopped breathing around 8pm. We rushed her to the emergency room doing CPR along the way, but she could not be revived. We don't know exactly what happened, and it does not matter, for she is gone. Petunia crossed the rainbow bridge cradled in my arms and I am convinced that it was very quick and painless for her.

As you might imagine, I am devastated. I loved Petunia in ways that I did not know were possible and I am still struggling with disbelief that she is gone. Though I always knew that her medical future was uncertain I really hoped to give her a long, happy life spreading cuteness and joy.

Petunia was such a special girl - sweet, sassy, and soulful - and I am trying to take solace in the fact that we had an amazing month together. I know that many of you loved her as I did and will also be crushed by this loss. Petunia was privileged to have so many people from near and far love her. I am grateful to all of you for supporting her journey and I am so sorry to have to share this terrible news.

Over the next few days I will be dealing with the wrap up of her fundraiser with details to be announced soon. If you have questions or suggestions please PM me here.

Tearfully,

Mama

I know I wasn't the only one who cried today, for a precious soul that was taken from us too soon. I know her foster Mama did everything possible for the little life she chose to save. My heart is breaking for sweet Aimee again today as it was yesterday as it will be tomorrow. I’m sharing her website information if anyone would like to contribute to the legacy of Petunia for other medically challenged fur babies. I know we can’t save them all but in the end, they all leave paw prints on our hearts no matter how long, or how short a time they spend with us.

Reset Switch

The Reset Switch

Don't you sometimes wish life came with a reset switch? Me too. I really felt that way today after attending an airshow at Dyess Air Force Base,  It's the home of the B-1 bomber, one of them anyway. It's also my home. Abilene, not Dyess although my husband Lance retired from there after serving his country with honor for 20 years. The other is in South Dakota. I'm apologize, but the name of the base escapes me at the moment. I could look it up but I figure if it's important to you, you can do it as easily as me. 

The reason for today's topic is because I spent several hours at Dyess today. I was amazed and awed by some of the aircraft from the earliest days of the Air Force to the latest aircraft of today. The sheer size difference alone is incredible. I imagined our grandfathers and great grandfathers flying those small planes, and actually winning the wars they so valiantly fought. I also thought back to those who served in Vietnam and were not welcomed home. And it is with this thought that my missive today is dedicated to everyone everywhere who has ever served, wanted to serve and couldn't because of whatever reason, or those who served in other ways, I salute you and honor your valor and courage in the face of the enemy foreign and domestic. Thank you for your service, it is long overdue, and well deserved by every American Soldier. I am so very proud to have been walking among you, who are serving yet today. 

Lance and I walked a good hike from the only parking we could find, which was actually closer than some, and walked into a wonderland of Airplanes, people and fair food. From the many Air Force Marines, Navy, and Army personnel to the absolute countless civilians, and vendors, I would say it would be a pretty good bet, the mall was empty today.

I'm glad I was at Dyess. I might have been one among the thousands that were there, but I was there too. And I have the sunburn to prove it. I also have a picture of me with the three of the pilots of the Thunderbirds. I know I wasn't the only one they took a photo with, but it's oh so very special to me. They were so polite and I felt blessed to know that these brave young men are watching the skies for us.

We wandered past more planes and found a group of Marines. I too was a Marine, A Woman Marine. I enlisted in 1978. It was before women were big on equal rights and so forth so our motto was Free a Man to Fight. We learned how to iron, polish shoes, put on makeup, how to do trick drill and Free a Man to Fight. You see, at that time women weren't allowed on the firing lines, or to even hold a fire arm and we certainly weren't allowed to wear slacks unless we were at PT. We had a very strict code of conduct. We weren't to speak to the men at anytime and we were very segregated on a small island in South Carolina called Parris. The only time we got to "socialize" was at church on Sunday's and believe me, we socialized.

Anyway, we came upon a group of Marines. I asked them if I could take their photo and mentioned that about 35 years ago I was a Marine too. They dropped everything, enveloped me like a lost sister, and even took pictures of me with them. Another stellar moment in my life that I can tuck away and take out again when I get old, and once again, wish I had a reset button.

I felt that way today knowing something that those young men didn't. I was in the Marine Corps and I took the oath the same as they did, with one exception, I couldn't stay. Or, let me rephrase that, I chose not to stay, because my life turned upside down with one phone call.

Let me back up to 1978. I was one of the lucky ones. The one whose parents were still together, the one whose family loved each other and stood by you no matter what. Who loved you and promised to be there for you for at least the foreseeable future. Or at least for the next six weeks while I was away at boot camp in another state as far away from the Hell that was Playas, NM as you could possibly get. For goodness sake it was six weeks. Six Weeks. Well, someone lied. And this person new she was lying when she did it. Had she told me before she let me get go that day, to start a new life as a Marine, things might have turned out differently. But she stood right there, told me she and my Dad would see me in six weeks for my graduation, and lied to me. Do I still respect her. No, not since that day so long ago. Do I love her? Of course she's my Mother.

I had never been away from home for more than an overnight stay at a friends house in 18 years. But here I was, starting my life as a Marine Corps recruit. I can honestly say I thought I was in Hell number 2, however,  Playas, NM being the proud bearer of that dubious title was taken, so boot camp became purgatory. I look back on it and laugh now. It was a cakewalk. We were taught how to put on makeup, how to dress properly and how to drill. We even had PT, sort of. I have a harder time getting out of bed today than PT ever thought of being when I was a recruit. But if we were born with the knowledge that we have as a 50 year old adult, life wouldn't be so frightening and we wouldn't be dreaming of having a reset switch.

I was in my sixth week of boot camp. Three days from graduating, and I contracted the measles. My Drill instructors packed up my belongings and sent me to the hospital. My squad graduated without me, I got to make a phone call home, and I got sent back to a new platoon to re-do the last 2 weeks of my training.

I think I could have handled the re-do of the last 2 weeks of my training if it hadn't been for the phone call home. I called in the evening when I knew both of my parents would be home. My Mom answered and said to me, "I have something to tell you. your Dad and I are getting a divorce." No warning. Just blurted it out and told me that, she and Dale were married except for the piece of paper that said they were. I can't even  remember what else we talked about or if we talked at all. All I remember was her telling me, your Dad and I are getting a divorce.

I gathered up all of my belongings, went to the hospital waiting room and proceeded to wait for the bus to come and get me. The bus came and took me to my new barracks and I met my new squad.

I went through the next week numb to my bones. I got a long letter from my Dad telling me that he was sorry I found out the way I did but it wasn't his idea. He was so heartbroken, and I could literally see tear tracks on the pages of the letter he sent me. I cried too. My heart was also broken. He told me who Dale was and how Mom told him she wanted a divorce.  It was the same day I left for the Marine Corps. My heart broke some more.

I had been with my new squad for a week and had a week to go. It might as well have been an eternity. I just lost my heart and told my squad leader I wanted out. The next week I was in casual company and watching yet another squad graduate without me. I spent two weeks acclimating back to civilian life. This time it was because of a decision I made. So all total I was gone for a total of 10 weeks. I have a document that states I was honorably discharged from the United States Marine Corps. Thinking of that document I wondered about a reset switch today.

I asked Lance if he ever wished for a reset switch? He said not really. If we could live our lives again think about what we would have missed in this one. The forks in the roads of our lives would have been different and odds were I wouldn't have met you. My heart melted, and I was reminded once again, that God blessed the broken road, that led me straight to him.
.
But I still think if I had a reset switch I would have pushed it and gone back to live that part of my life over again. I'm not sure I would have made the same decision but it would be nice to find out.

My life with Oreo

OREO

When God closes a door, somewhere he opens a window.                                                          

 The sound of Music

AND SO IT BEGAN

       Sometimes life gives you a kick in the pants. You never really expect it, and it never happens at the right time, but somehow we get through it and somehow, we go on.

Bobby lost his job due to the economy and the fickle nature of the career he had chosen. It wasn’t the first time he had been laid off but he was determined it would be the last. He had to give up his home and move back to his roots. Our mother was widowed when Misti was five. She never remarried, and never stopped raising her children as we were always welcomed back home to be tucked once again under her wings.

    

      Mom loved Indie but she was so allergic to him that he was going to have to live outside if he was going to live with Bobby. Well cats being cats are just as likely to get into trouble as not. Indie got into trouble. Indie got lost. We posted lost pet ads in the paper, put up fliers, and took up a neighborhood search. We finally went to the animal shelter as a last resort. Of course we didn’t find him, and it hurt, and we grieved.

       

        As the door on Indie closed, the window opened, and Oreo walked in. Oreo was an inmate at the animal shelter. He had been turned in as a stray and was calling my name. Since Oreo was a Boston terrier, and dogs were housed separately from the cats it was a miracle that I saw him at all. I was already owned by a pair of Boston “Terrors”, Pebbles and Bam Bam. Litter mates that were about two years old at the time and currently residing at Mom’s house with Pepper and Frodeaux. Since I too, had recently gone through a change of residence due to yet another divorce, and knew that although Oreo had called my name, he was not going to be coming home with me.  I talked to him for a few minutes and lost my heart. He looked a little like a prize fighter. Something or someone had taken a bite out of one of his ears and he was missing a few of his front teeth, as well as a few of the bottom ones. He was actually quite pitiful. When I finally turned to go he cried and my heart bled.

       We got back in the car to go home and I called my friend Lance. Lance, who is now my long suffering husband, my best friend, my rock and my sounding board, was in for a surprise. Since he wouldn’t be my husband for another four years and had only been seeing me for about three months I was really going out on a limb asking for such a huge favor. I asked Lance to adopt Oreo. I begged, pleaded and paid the adoption fee.

         Lance, who had two cats, one of whom was Satan in a cat suit, was not convinced he really needed a dog but said he’d go by and introduce himself. One look was all it took for Lance to be enchanted by him.

         Oreo had found a forever home and unconditional love. 

WHAT THE HECK IS THAT THING?

          One of the funniest things I never got to see was Oreo’s first encounter with a hot air balloon. Lance was laughing so hard when he told me about it that it was funny even though I didn’t know what he was saying.

Every year the Optimist club of Abilene puts on a hot air balloon show. It’s always in the fall and the wind is always blowing the leaves off of the trees. It’s always a gamble whether they will actually be able to lift off or not. In all the years I have lived here I’m ashamed to say that I have never been to one. I really don’t have a good reason other than I just never have. I plan on going next year. Really, I do.

Oreo was in the back yard with Lance when a hot air balloon floated over the top of the house. I guess Oreo thought his world was collapsing around him, or this was the strangest bird he had ever seen. He went nuts. Every hair on him was standing right straight up. He was barking at full volume, which for Oreo was not very loud. You could be standing on top of him and couldn’t hear him barking.

He tried to climb the peach tree and actually got half way up before Lance rescued him. I can only imagine what was going through his mind. “What am I going to do with it when I catch it?” “How am I going to get out of this tree?” “What the heck is that thing???????”

THE WATER BUG

Yep this is Texas and not only are we the biggest state we have the biggest roaches too. It seems like they follow water, hence the reason people around here call them water bugs. I just call them ugly. Oreo calls them lunch.

Lance and I went out shopping one day and were gone for a good while. Oreo had been after something earlier and we thought it might be a water bug but with Oreo it was hard to tell it could have been just about anything. Usually he killed them and rolled in them. I guess they taste really nasty. From the expression on his face when he’d kill one and the amount of drool dripping from his mouth, they were not very tasty. Ewww just ewww. Anyway back to Lance and I, we came home and were met at the door by Oreo who promptly spit a giant water bug at Lance’s feet. All I can say is thank goodness he spit it at Lance instead of me or Lance would have been peeling me off the ceiling. The bug was still alive and was running for his life. Lance was doing his own rendition of Riverdance trying to kill the thing. Between Lance, Oreo and his bug hunting prodigy Bam Bam, someone killed the bug and it was disposed of. Thank goodness.

LET’S GO SWIMMING

Oreo was a champion swimmer. He would swim down the hall using the rugs as a handy place to use not only to wipe your underside with but to have something to hold onto while doing so. He would also swim in the yard. When the dew was on the grass we could look out and see where he’d been by the trails he left in the yard. Plus it never failed that when he had a wet belly the first thing he wanted to do was get into my lap to share the wealth, or in this case the wet, with me. It was always me. It was almost like he was saying, “since you weren’t out there to enjoy the freshness with me I thought I’d bring some in.” Thanks Oreo.

He never met a dirt pile he didn’t like. He could swim in those too, but he seemed more inclined to roll in them, and then bring what dirt managed to cling to him back inside the house to me. Oreo was a black, white and brindle Boston Terrier. He had equal amounts of each but after a session with a dirt pile you really couldn’t tell what color he was except dirty so he earned the nickname Joe Dirt. Lance just called him dirt but he was still my cookie.

THE HUNTING BLIND

            Lance and I decided that we were tired of getting up and letting the dogs in and out multiple times during the course of one movie. Three dogs on different scheduled barking,

pee-mail checking, and just because they want outside, pretty much meant we were always going to the door to let one in while another one went out. Rather than installing a revolving door, which was an option that we considered, we decided to go with a doggie door. Since he had to put it in the wall instead of the door, it required a bit more engineering and a special part that had to be ordered.

 We purchased the dog door that indicated it was designed for in the wall usage. In other words it had a front door, and a back door with about six inches of flat space between. The spacer that went in between the two doors was what we needed. This was the reason we bought the door we did. So much for the happy dance we did when we found the door. Another week went by and the spacer arrived and Lance was finally able to install the door. The dogs loved it. Pebbles and Bam Bam had been used to a door like this as I had one at my old house. Oreo not to be outdone by either of them barreled his way through it with a small bit of coaxing and a piece of cheese.

I was at the kitchen sink one day and just so happened to see Oreo “stuck” in the dog door. Oreo wasn’t as big as Bam Bam who is a mutant at thirty-eight pounds and Bam Bam goes through the door just fine so my next thought was that he couldn’t possibly be stuck. I went up behind him to see what the problem was and about then he shot out of that door as if what little tail he had was on fire. I looked out the window and realized he had been using the door as a blind. He was watching the birds in the birdbath and waiting until the just the right moment to spring out at them. To my knowledge he didn’t catch one that day but it certainly wasn’t for lack of ingenuity on his part.

OREO AND TOYS

            Oreo was very protective of his toys. Bam Bam has always been a cuddler. He cuddles his toys like a security blanket. Sometimes he takes them outside with him even though he isn’t supposed to. This is where Oreo comes in. He is like the toy police. He picks up discarded toys and brings them in with him.

            Lance’s granddaughter, who was three or four at the time, came to visit. In his eyes, she made the mistake of picking up one of the toys to play with him. He wasn’t going to stand for that so Oreo spent the entire time hiding his toys from her. He even took Bam Bam’s away from him and hid it.

Lance had bought him a huge ball, you know the ones, they are in the bungie cord bins that kids just have to reach in and get one out so you have this random ball bouncing down the aisle toward you like a mutant melon on the loose. Anyway, the ball was almost bigger than he was, but it still wasn’t big enough to share with someone else. Especially Pebbles. She was the thorn in his side. Or vice versa depending on which point of view you were looking at.

Oreo would put his front paws on top of the ball and roll it backwards around the yard. If one of us was out there with him we could roll it for him and he would chase it. If it was me playing with him it was even better because Pebbles had to get in on it too. The way Pebbles looked at it if her mommy wants that ball then he’d better let me have it.  Oreo had other ideas. Let’s play keep away. Oreo would be on one side and Pebbles on the other each trying to roll the ball away from the other. Snarling and snapping sounded throughout the yard while they tried to shove each other off the ball. They were pretty evenly matched in weight so it was anyone’s guess as to who the victor would be. Generally one of them just got tired and gave up. This was the only toy he never brought inside but he would still hide it from others if necessary.

One time we were out in the yard enjoying a bar-b-que when Oreo came out with a rawhide bone. He carefully dug a hole placed the bone inside and covered it back up using his nose as a shovel. Pebbles watched every move he made and as soon as he walked away she was over there digging up his bone. The thing is, Pebbles doesn’t even like rawhide bones. She, spiteful girl that she is, just wanted to carry the thing around with her and growl about it when he got close to her. Such is life with dogs. There is nothing like it. 

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Stumbling Through Life Laughing all the Way

THE EARLY YEARS

LET THE STUMBLING BEGIN

I hope I look as good as my Mother does when I reach the age she says she isn’t.        Anonymous

     I was a race car driver in a previous life. I must have been. It’s the only explanation for the way I have lived my life. I was the first born, and I must have been in a hurry even then. I was not going to come out head first like a normal baby, oh no, I had to try to come out butt first. Well after the first 20 hours of labor that my Mother went through, her doctors decided maybe they should use the forceps and turn me around the right way. (It seems that in the year 1959, cesarean births, were very uncommon). After almost putting out my left eye, and causing me to have an eyebrow that turns every which way but the right way, I came into the world. It was four days until Christmas. See what I mean, about being in a hurry. I just didn’t want to miss the excitement of Santa Claus.

     

     The great thing about being a Christmas baby, you get to open presents on your birthday while your little brother gets to watch.

     

     The bad thing about being a Christmas baby, you don’t ever get to have a birthday party because it’s too close to Christmas.

     

     Join me on my journey as I stumble my way through life laughing along the way.

STUMBLING ALONG WITH OUR PETS

INDIE & PEPPER

Happiness is the perpetual possession of being well deceived.                                            

Lytton Strachey

His name was Indie. He was the greatest cat that ever used a litter box. He loved people, dogs, other cats, and pink pearl erasers.  He was a chestnut brown tabby with beautiful markings. Instead of stripes or spots he had circles. We should have known that since he belonged to my brother, he was going to be different.

Indie owned  my brother, Bobby. Bobby lived in Round Rock, a suburb of Austin. My sister, Misti, was going to college at TCU, (go Frogs), but she wanted to get as many of her classes done in as short a time as possible so she took a summer class at UT Austin, (hook ‘em horns), and she soon found out what it was like to have Indie as a housemate.

Indie hated closed doors. It didn’t matter what door it was if it was closed he wanted it open. He would put his paw under a door and pull it so that it made a banging sound, over, and over, and over. No door was sacred. If you were sleeping and shut the door he was banging on the other side. If you let him in and closed the door he would bang to get back out. Misti, after a few days of this treatment, decided she’d had enough.  She got a water gun and she proceeded to chase him around the house with it.  When Indie banged, Misti drowned him with the water gun. To Misti’s astonishment, Indie was the only cat ever created who thrived on getting wet by a water gun. To Indie, it was a game. To Misti, it was war. Both combatants vowed to be the victor.

Indie also loved Pepper. Pepper is a five pound toy poodle who arrived at my brother’s doorstep via an F5 tornado. The storms that brought Pepper to Bobby were the same killer storms that took out the town of Jarell.  Through the horrible devastation, a small sweet miracle survived. Since Indie outweighed Pepper by more than double, he would wrap his legs around Pepper and roll with her. They would wrestle like that every day.  I’m sure that Indie was under the impression that Bobby had gotten Pepper just so he would have a younger sibling to play with. Pepper just thought he was crazy.

Indie was a thief. He stole cigarettes, lighters, loose change; whatever he found just laying around was fair game. He even stole some money from my Dad,  money clip and all. To this day I don’t know if he ever got it back. One time he stole a penny and cost my brother a huge vet bill. Not only did he steal the penny, he swallowed it as well. Thankfully he survived to steal again, but after that, my brother was a bit more careful with his loose change.

            

           He also loved to steal Misti’s pink pearl erasers.  Misti, who was taking an advanced calculus class, had a number of supplies handy when she was doing her homework including pencils, a calculator and pink pearl erasers. Oh yes, Indie loved Misti’s pink pearl erasers. He loved them so much that he would swipe them onto the floor for his new friend Pepper. The problem was that Pepper didn’t want to play pass the eraser, oh no, she wanted to chew the eraser. That’s right, Pepper turned Misti’s erasers into crumbs. Misti would come home from school, start her homework and realize her eraser was gone. She finally decided that Indie was stealing her erasers.  War was declared. Indie was the target and Pepper was determined to be an innocent bystander.

Pepper may have gotten away with turning Misti’s erasers into crumbs if not for the one time that she got caught in the act. Misti had gone to the kitchen for just long enough for Indie to leap on the coffee table and slide the eraser off. She saw Pepper grab the eraser and run with it. Misti followed her and found all of the other erasers in a cute little pile of pink crumbs. Mystery solved.

That year for Christmas, Misti, gave Pepper, her very own pink pearl erasers.