"If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went." Will Rogers, 1897-1935 ...

As I mentioned in my last post that I had watched "The Bucket List" the other evening and took away from it more insights. I guess that's one of the reasons I enjoy watching a movie several times. One of the points I started to engage in was this nature of animals, and in this case Dancer's, of the afterlife and whether he'll greet me in heaven. I can only say, when my time comes, I'm going to get the warmest welcome with all the animals that have gone before him and the ones that will come after. But to get back to the subject if animals do indeed go to heaven, one could argue on both planes. Depending on which arena you subscribe to; religious or scientific, will determine your beliefs. I think you know where I stand on this one but one has to look at whether an animal has a soul. Again, depending on your religious affiliation and if you look at an animal as a spiritual being with a soul. I cannot believe that God created such a life without rendering it's purpose on earth. There are those who view them strictly as utilitarian but even so, I cannot believe that when the day is done, that the working dog who gathered his sheep, or the cow that just produced 5 gallons of milk, or the Hereford who will eventually feed 25 people does not garner an ounce of gratitude from that person. I certainly view Dancer in the light of the joy he brought to my life and cannot fathom that God did not put him for that purpose and that He will not allow Dancer to return. I guess if they were good enough to get on the Ark, then they'll be good enough to enter heaven.
It is in those flowing waters that I cherish the words of Carter Chambers, "Our lives are streams flowing into the same river towards whatever heaven lies in the mist beyond the falls. Close your eyes my Dancer, and let the waters take you."

The Bucket List

I watched the "Bucket List" the other evening. A rather precarious event for me in light of the fragility of my emotional state. Sometimes it can have a reverse effect and bring some comfort. I enjoyed the movie as I've seen it several times and each time I watch it, I pick up a subtle cue or am validated by the message that lies herein. I got to thinking about Carter and Edward and their creation of their "bucket list" and wondered if a dog (or cat for that matter) would have a "Bucket List"? I guess depending on how much we attempt to humanize our pets would make that determination. And, I fall prey to that somewhat nonsensical effort. But, bear with me on this one for if you're an animal lover in the slightest sense, you'll understand where I'm coming from. Dancer is (was) a special dog; as all of my present and past dogs (and cats) have been. Each very unique in their own demeanor, description, behavior. Dancer boy was no different. I know each animal, even those that are abused beyond belief have a sense of loyalty to their owner and it's only in the cruelty or compassion that the dog receives will determine it's outcome. Nary the dog that's been struck, chained, whipped, starved, and with proper training and rehabilitation I hope could overcome that abuse. I like to think that Dancer got the best home in the world. Maybe his list would have included more dog treats, or another trip to Montana, possibly a run at being a Grand Master Flyball Dog. Well, he certainly didn't know how many points he was winning, or the trophies he received. He did it for the shear enjoyment and he knew how excited I became to see him flying down the track. But then again, maybe his most fun times were spent in the company of his "Dad", relaxing on the sofa or in the "Frasier" chair. I'll miss seeing him there.

"To Everything Under Heaven....."

For all the billions of viewers "out there" who are regulars to my blog...:>) you've noticed that my best friend was called home this past Saturday and I've been attempting to "memorialize" him with my posts as of late. It's only been four days and the barometer I've used to sequence the anguish I'm feeling is how often I have to clean my eyeglasses or take my contacts out because of the excess tear goop that adheres to them. There are times I must admit that I feel nothing. I experience such a feeling of ennui that I'm wondering if there's something wrong-emotionally. But, as I begin to do that mental rummaging I'm snapped back to reality and realize I'm in the present and the future has come and gone. The present is no longer, and as Einstein says, "the future will come soon enough". I find myself still in this archaic pine of loss for him. I have to remind myself to get out of bed in the morning and as I get in the car to go to school and walk to the classroom, I'm in a fragile state of mind. I'm transfixed to another dimension and that longing wish for time to have stood still escapes me. I'm transported back to here and remembrance of four days ago and the agony sets in. It DID happen and HE IS GONE. I think of going to watch a sunset for that was one of our favorite things to do. I got to take pictures of a majestic wonder of God's creation; that indomitable beauty of not being able to tell where the earth stopped and heaven began, and Piper, Remy, and Dancer would sit patiently with me. But alas, the thought scurries from me and reality sets in for it will only be two that go with me and the sadness overcomes me. Until I can drum up the strength to do so, this one's for you, my friend.

"Time is a great teacher, but unfortunately it kills all its pupils". ~Louis Hector Berlioz

Several days ago I posted about my best friend's passing. He was 77yrs. young, that's 11 yrs. in dog years. And I use this quote for today's post as some 18 mos. ago, I wished I could have stopped time in it's tracks. I searched for some cosmic herculean power that could have froze time and prevented any further passage. The consequences would have eliminated the sorrow I'm experiencing now, would have saved his life, and countless other undertakings to occur. But now my life is blanketed by such an indescribable and irrefutable anguish that I wish time would accelerate as the race car at Indy. The days languish and the minutes prevail as the heat on a summer's day. I ask myself for the future to come, but unfortunately not soon enough. The youthful zealot only fears time as it impedes their progress. I think Einstein's quote I used several weeks ago, "I don't worry about the future, it will come soon enough". For my little boy, the future came far too soon. And while I prefer to think that he didn't die of cancer, his future and ultimately, he just ran out of time.

I often think how I will get by in the days, weeks, and months to come. I will have to remind myself to get out of bed in the morning, the sun will rise, and another day will begin. I will be so very sad that he's not here with me, but so very thankful that for the last 11 yrs. he gave me his best.

"Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep"

I met him just a little over 11yrs. ago. I didn’t know what circumstances would ensue this union that was about to commence as I meandered down this gravel charred road that lead to his house. I remember it being a warm day in August as they usually are in St Louis and I cautioned myself that all meetings don’t fair well that are blanketed with the heat. I was optimistic however and it was difficult to contain the excitement I was beginning to feel.

I parked the car and strolled to the back yard where I was greeted by his “play” mom who said to go inside the yard and she would bring the group out. As I walked through the gate, plopped myself down on the ground, I was literally overrun by the pouncing and prancing, barking and yapping of a dialogue I knew far to well. Like a lion who circles her prey waiting for the first chance to strike, they closed in to inspect this “stranger”. With a cautious and rather demure pace several were perplexed at this thing that dared to enter their domain. He was the only one that was beyond reproach and eagerly trotted to me and promptly made his home in my lap. I knew in an instant we were meant for each other.

I got to bring him home but not without a little drama for another young boy with some emotional difficulties was being considered as a potential master. He certainly had the personality to charm and settle one as his was one of a gentle nature, a manner quite fitting for such an individual. However, it was not to be and I was able to bring him home on Aug. 28, 1999. He promptly settled in causing some havoc with the “Queen of the House” needling and disrupting her routine. He found my other four legged friends enticing and had to attempt to dislodge them from their lairs as well.

He grew as most young boys his age do….gangly, their legs far exceeding their bodies for that “ugly” growth period but after several months, he “grew” into his body and proved to be a striking and strapping well proportioned young boy.

As most boys of his age, his energy level was an exuberant bundle of warp speed. It was time to get him involved in a sport that would channel and yet allow that energy to abound. Come the wonderful sports of Flyball and Agility. His ability and speed at Flyball was something to behold. He had found a way to let loose with that excitement. His expertise in Agility would have excelled only to be limited by my senility in being able to remember which way to run on the course. “Is he supposed to go up the Dog Walk, or through the Tunnel”? If they only would have had a GPS device, I could have programmed it and he certainly would have followed it home.

I was often jealous of him with his flowing auburn hair and split eye colors of blue and amber. He was a “charmer” with any woman I would bring home, often shadowing them more than me and promptly would warm their hearts. He would follow them around like the proverbial “puppy dog” and ignore me. I had to remind him of who fed him and paid the bills. He would often give me that longing look and lick on my face as his attempt at redemption. How could I resist?

We traveled extensively with his canine buds to Colorado, Michigan, Wyoming, Idaho, Utah, Montana, Canada and Maine, and Wisconsin. He relished in these travels not seemingly caring where we headed as long as he was with “dad”.

As it doesn’t seem fair for humans to be beset by frailty or disease, to have our pets endure such a travesty is a cruelty beyond proportion. And so it was with him that fateful day in July of 2009 when our worst fears were confirmed-cancer. Like I was stabbed in the heart to hear the prognosis of 2-3 months remaining of this beautiful boy was despicable. But then a ray of hope appeared and we traveled again. This time to what we hoped would stop this dreaded disease and cheat this insidious prognosis. And so it was with the advent of such progressive technology we attempted to stop his disease.

But with the intervention, his disease proved a formidable opponent and did not give in easily. It came back and we again traveled to make another effort at stopping its’ progress. But like many modern scientific interventions, it can only take one so far, then comes God. I continued to cling to hope, that hope is a good thing and no good thing ever dies. I asked for a miracle and continued to be given one day at a time. I wished to have more. As it is with any gift from God, they are on loan to us for only a brief time and they must be returned.

Dancer Bello was called back home this morning, 11 yrs, 8 mos. I won’t be saddened to the way he died, but will relish in how he lived. There will be one less dog to feed, less poop to pick up, and my vet bills will reduce. It will be such a tragic trade off. When I leave in the morning he won’t be there, sitting on the back of the couch watching me leave, nor will he be standing at the door waiting for me with his stuffed toy in his mouth. I cannot imagine my days to come.

"Don't stand by my grave and weep for I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glint on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn's rain. Do not stand by my grave and cry. I am not there. I did not die."

This is an old Native American proverb that I will adhere to with his passing. My sadness now is overwhelming. The death of a pet has always been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to endure in my life. As I’ve aged, it only gets more difficult. I am so thankful for having been a part of his life. He has certainly enriched mine. I can only hope when my time comes and I’m passing by a certain set of Gates, that he’s standing there and will vouch for me.

“The one best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master”.

Neither Rain, nor Sleet, nor......

I promise this post won't be a weather report from St. Louis. I will have to "lead" into it with a brief explanation of how these photos were come by. We had the opportunity to get a major dump or a brisk taste of ice and sleet. And in the words of that dashing and bumbling sleuth-Maxwell Smart, "Missed it by that much". Instead of a crippling 18", we received still a crippling 4-6" of sleet. As I've said in previous posts about St. Louis drivers...get off the road when bad weather hits. Enough already!!!

What I'm more interested in with these photos and the reflective thought that whisks in my mind is the undisturbed and eloquence of which freshly fallen snow radiates. I look at the crisp line of ice fervently adhered to a tree branch, or the gentle balance of the shadow of the tree proceeding across the settled path of snow. Or even the undisguised trail of a deer searching for perhaps food or it's gentile berth for the evening. These are more than enough approximation of thought to look at my own life. Have I (or you) for that matter walked to far ahead of our daily lives not as the proverbial quote says, "stop and smell the roses?" Maybe I should have placed a rose picture instead. Do I think of that trail the deer is attempting to follow and apply it to my own life?? In the 60yrs. I've been here am I on the right trail, unfettered by those mundane trivialities that seek to clutter my life? I think of the quote, "Ask and it will be given to you, seek and you shall find, knock and the door will be opened for you". Gosh....if I'd only learned this about 53 yrs. ago.

"Front Doerr....Back Doerr"

Look at these two....the picture emanates happiness! While there is a faint whisper of a devilish pose from "Front Doerr" to see him own up to his true persona his smile would light up the night. And certainly there is no disguising her exhilaration from the "Back Doerr" sharing the pixels with her beau of now 62 years for her smile radiates joy. They are a unique couple in today's revolving array of splintered and fractured relationships. Staying together for that length of time contradicts the very nature of our concept of marriage today. With divorce rates being as high as 1 out of every 2 marriages, they've left a template of marital continuity that should be put in the history books. When the historians look at some of the great relationships in history, the Doerrs will rank up near the top. I've had the privilege of knowing them for almost 46 years, 22 of them as my in-laws but alas, my marriage to their daughter didn't survive and I count that as being a diminishing casualty of that marriage. And yet, I have been fortunate to remain friends with them and if you've read any of my previous posts about the "Front Doerr", last March he was almost called "home". But old buggers like him don't die easy and certainly his work on this earth wasn't finished. He's still here and thank God for this, for he is a good person and most assuredly so is his bride. It's an honor to consider them friends.
You know the old saying when God closes a "Doerr", somewhere He opens another one. It's good to have 2 "Doerrs" to every home.

"You've Got.......

I was watching one of my favorite movies the other night (for the umpteenth time)"You've Got Mail". And I duly confess that I will watch it again....and again....and again. I'm at the point where if there were tryouts for JOE FOX, I'd win the part hands down as I know all the lines!! Now, if I could convince Meg Ryan to reprise her role as Kathleen Kelly, my heart would leap!!
And while it's the updated version of another of my all time favorites-"The Shop Around the Corner", I look beyond the basic "enchantment" of the theme of the movie of online dating, the mercurial element of surprise to learn someone you're interested in could be that close to you without knowing it, but the impact of social networking on the population of the world-namely blogging. I confess to not being a "textor" for I find it rather impersonal and somewhat passive aggressive for the weak of heart. Emailing has become a "convenience" to reach the masses and while it too is rather impersonal, it does have its benefits. I know if I were in a relationship with a woman now, I would not use "texting" to communicate with her. I find it much more sensitive and loving to call her rather than send her an emotionally abandoned message on her cell-"Honey, what's for supper"? It would be an emotional connect to hear the sweetness of her voice as she said, "when are you coming home"?

I digress for a moment but all in line with the point of this blog. I remember a rather poignant line Kathleen (strange enough) writes to Joe after he has "stood her up" at the cafe. "The odd thing about this form of communication is you're more likely to talk about nothing than "something", but I want to say that all this "nothing" has meant more to me than so many "somethings". And so it goes with blogging. I don't have the slightest idea of how many "bloggers" are out there. One can go to your favorites and look at all the people who for instance list "You've Got Mail" as one of their favorite movies (823,000). That's more people than the population of the U.S. And I know I'll never in my lifetime look at all 823,000, or the number of people who list "Love Actually" as one of their favorite movies, the really cool thing about this form of communication as Kathleen so touchingly writes, we're more so apt to talk about "nothings" in our blog, but they mean so much more than "somethings". I can go to "Ed" in the Phillipines and read about his day and what excites him; or look at "Karin" in Stockholm and read about her innermost feelings; or even "Melanie" from the Bayou and she can tell me about some home cooked Cajun recipe her great grandmother passed down to her. So, while there appears to be a certain element of disconnect, or disengagement from the use of technology, there is that one glorified anticipation of "what will NY152" say next!!

So, if some night when the wolves have stopped howling, the faint fragrance of Spring is in the air, Jack has finished his homework and shifted off to bed, and your wading through some of those 823,000 blogs of people who list "You've Got Mail" and you come across mine Meg, know that I'd take you in a heartbeat.

She Huffed and She Puffed and.....

Well.....much to my chagrin, the proposed winter blast that was "expected" didn't materialize to more than a frog's hair of snow. As I commented in a post several days ago, I'd hate to be a meteorologist in St. Louis. However, in fairness to the local weather scientists their actual reading of the tea leaves wasn't too far off. It may have been my "school boy" naivete that longingly awaited a sudden shift in the budding heads of two major fronts that were bearing down on our city to clash in a crescendo of a nor'easter that would send us into oblivion. But.....at best we got maybe 2" and unfortunately, there will be school tomorrow. We've already received more snow this season than we've had for a long time. Come on Mother Nature....let's play again!!

Da-Da-Da-Dump!!

Well, to my heart's delight, another "major" snow storm blanketed St. Louis with, (depending on where you live) you got either 3", or as much as 12" all within a path of no more than 40 miles. As I periodically interject some reference to weather conditions that stupefy our weather callers on this blog, I would not want to be a meteorologist in St. Louis. We St. Louisans are inherently relentless in our quest to obtain accurate and up to the minute predictions of what to wear as we step out the door. Do I wear the Cole Haans or strap on the Timberlands? Will the London Fog protect my new coif, or will the LL.Bean 8 oz. down ParkLane Ridge Parka barely keep me from frost bite? And if you've ever been so unfortunate to be suspended in our fair city during a snow, or even rain storm for that matter, you know way to well, ST. LOUISANS CANNOT DRIVE IN INCLEMENT WEATHER!! Oh, they'll tell you they can, even the ones with the SUV's that you need an oak tree to climb up to get in.

But again, as this post is not a weather commentary but a grown man's childhood predilection for his fondness of snow....and especially to see on the boob tube about 5:00 a.m. (or thereabouts) that his local school district has cancelled classes for the day. So sorry, gotta go back to bed!!