Saturday, April 11, 2009

Last Gasp

I believe that this will be my last blog. I started this at the urging of my family, but I never seem to have anything of importance to say. I have done blogs on my dogs, but if people didn't know them the blogs would not be very interesting. I think those blogs have ended up in outer computer cyberspace never to be heard of again. Since then, I have had very little to say. My life is not one which has many exciting or interesting occurrences.
I wake up in the middle of the night and my brain travels thousands of miles per minute and I think that perhaps when morning comes that I will remember those brain waves and write them down. However, nothing is there. I have thought about this blog, but as usual nothing remains of my thoughts.
I often wonder if I am where I should be. There are places that I feel I don't belong. Church is one of them. The activities in the ward are supposedly for everyone, but the singles always seem to get left out. I'm sorry that I am not young , vibrant or married. I think I could just not go to church and no one would even miss me.
The only places I do feel that I belong are home and DUP meetings. Home because it is my place, I have family here and I can be myself. DUP because I can relate to older people and we have things in common like ancestors. I should not forget the golf course as a comfortable place to be because I don't have to please anyone but myself.
Well I'm done. Now to send my thoughts into outer cyberspace or who knows where.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

More on Smokey Bear

I ended with Smokey being a gentle dog even though he was big and black, thus the name Smokey Bear as he looked just like a big black bear. He was not very friendly with men except for my brother-in-law Si and my neighbor across the street, Everett DeLaMare. Everett could do just about anything with Smokey and Smokey would do just about anything for Everett. For some reason there was a great friendship between the two of them.

In 1983, I had to go to the hospital for major surgery. Everett and Marge said that they would be glad to take care of Smokey while I was in the hospital. That was also the year that we had had tons of snow and as it melted in the spring, it filled Settlement dam to overflowing and we had water everywhere. The water was gushing down both sides of our street. The neighbors had sandbagged all of the yards and driveway entrances on the north side of the street as the water ran like a river. Everett and one of the other neighbors had built a bridge across the "river" so people could get to their homes. The day I was to go to the hospital, Maureen and Johnny came to take me there. Everett came across the street to get Smokey (Johnny wasn't about to take the dog over because there was no love lost between him and Smokey). Anyway, as Everett was taking Smokey across the bridge, Smokey's back legs slipped off the board and he fell into the water and Everett just dragged him through the water until he could find dry land. Maureen and I laughed at the sight, but Johnny just stood there with his mouth open.

I had been in the hospital for about a week when Marge called and asked when I would be released. I told her I didn't know and she said I should ask the doctor because Smokey was sitting by their gate looking at my house and crying. She said that there were big tears in his eyes. When I told Dr. Gubler about the situation he said that he would let me go home the next day because we couldn't have an unhappy dog. (He is a dog lover.) Smokey was so excited when I got home. He hardly left my side for days.

As I said before, Smokey liked to ride in the car. One day I had to go to the car dealership to get an appointment to have my car serviced and I took Smokey with me. Everett was a saleman at the dealership and had seen me drive up. Smokey jumped into the front seat as usual when I got out and started his ritual of barking. One of the other salesmen mentioned to Everett how noisy that big dog was. Everett told him that he could go over to the car, pet the dog, and get him to quiet down. The salesman told Everett he would be crazy to try, but Everett said he could do it. The salesman's eyes nearly popped out of his head when Everett got Smokey to settle down. Everett told the salesman that he and Smokey were neighbors.

Smokey was always beside me when I went outside to work in the yard. He would follow me from place to place and laid next to me when I would pull the weeds. If I went across the street to visit he would always want to go with me. Whatever I ate, he would want the same thing. If I bought a hamburger, he would have to have one too. I would go to Baskins and Robbins for an ice cream cone and I would buy one for him. I guess I could say that he was kind of spoiled. I realize now that I made a mistake giving him "people" food because he really got fat and it was getting hard for him to get around. I also regret not being with him when he passed away. Sharon, Mike, Michele and I had gone to Lake Powell for the Labor Day weekend and I had left Smokey at the kennel in Bountiful. We came home on Labor Day, and my sister, Marge, had said she would go to the vet's to pick Smokey up the next day for me. I was going to get him after school. Marge called and told me not to hurry, because the vet had called and said that Smokey had had a heart attack and had passed away on Labor Day morning. I cried all the way to Bountiful and for many days afterward. Smokey was my special friend and I still miss him after all these years. Occasionally I look for things and find his collar and a lock of his hair that the vet had saved for me. If there is a "doggie heaven", I know I will be greeted and overwhelmed by the dogs I have lost in body but not in spirit, memories, or thoughts.

Saturday, August 9, 2008

Smokey Bear

To continue with comments about my dogs, I next go to Smokey. He was given to me by one of the ladies that I was bowling with, Ruth Gordon from Erda. I had told her about how sick Miggs was getting and she said I needed another dog for comfort. I told her that I couldn't handle two dogs and she said that I could at least look at the pups that her dog had had. So to keep Ruth happy and our bowling team on an even keel, I went to her house to look at the dogs.
When I got to Ruth's house, she said that all of the pups but one were part border collie and German shorthair. The "special one" as she called him was part border collie and black lab. She sent her son out to the woodpile where the "special one" was hiding to bring him in. When her son returned with the pup he put him on the floor in front of where I was sitting and that dog literally climbed up into my lap and cuddled right under my chin. Ruth told me that I couldn't possibly refuse such a cuddly ball of fur. So I took him.
He was my comfort when Miggs passed away and even though I cried a lot he was there to give hugs and kisses. I named him Smokey Bear because he reminded me of a little black bear cub. He certainly lived up to his name. He acted like a bear in protecting me and the house. If the doorbell rang and I went to the door, he always got between me and the door and wouldn't move unless it was someone he knew or I said it was ok. Smokey even protected the car. He would sit in the back seat until I got out and then would jump into the driver's seat and bark if anyone came close to the car. He was big, black and intimidating to those who didn't know what a sweet and gentle dog he really was. More on him at a later time.

Friday, July 25, 2008


Since I have been writing about animals ( many titles and no content) that have been in the family, I thought I would write this time about Miggs. Miggs was a miniature Boston Terrier. He was a purebred with papers from the American Kennel Club. His full name was Jeff's Mister Miggs. The only person I ever remember calling him Mister Miggs was Tammy Painter who lived across the street and was about 5 or 6 at the time. She would often ring my doorbell and ask if Mister Miggs could come out to play. She enjoyed that little dog. I thought Miggs was a regular sized dog until I had him at the vet's and a couple from Dugway came in with their Boston Terrier and thought that Miggs was a pup. Their dog was big enough to make two of Miggs (he only weighed 15 pounds). He was a special little dog. I could pick him up and put him under my arm or in the basket on my bicycle. He would lay on his back next to me in the car and was adopted by Marge and Si's boxers. They treated him like he was one of their pups. When we traveled back east on vacations we would take two and one half dogs. The two boxers as full dogs and Miggs as the half dog. We would put pillows on the back seat of the car and Miggs would sit on top of them just like a king so that he could see everywhere. When people came to the house to visit, I would sit on the couch and he would get on my lap and dare any of them to come close. I guess he was trying to be the big watchdog protector. As he got older, he developed asthma and had a difficult time breathing through his short little nose. He also started to get stiff joints which the vet said was the starting of arthritis. He would have a dificult time getting up the steps by himself, so I would carry him when the going got tough. He finally got to the point where he couldn't eat much without getting sick. The only thing that he could keep down was crushed candy canes. It was so hard to see him suffer and I could see what looked like tears in his eyes which would make me cry. I decided that I simply couldn't watch him suffer any longer, so Marge and I took him to the vet to be put to sleep. It was really hard to stand and watch that sweet little friend stop breathing and leave us. I cried for days. It was just like losing one of the family. The best consolation was that I had another little dog at home to take his place, but that will come in another story.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Old Max

Today after I finished working in the yard, I sat on the back porch and Lady practically sat on top of me. This made me think about other dogs the family has had and the different personalities that they had. Old Max was the first dog that I remember probably because he was the family dog when I was born. (Duh) Dad always said he was a Heinz 57 variety dog because we weren't sure what breed of dog he was. He was an excellent watchdog and always let us know when someone or something was around. Since we lived 6 miles out of town at the mouth of South Willow Canyon, we always paid attention to Max when he barked because we didn't see a lot of people. Those who did come were relatives or sheep ranchers who came to get water from the pond for their animals. Max knew most of them and seemed to have a special bark for each one. When I was small, I remember walking near the creek that powered the hydro-electric plant where Dad worked and Max would be walking with me. He would always walk between me and the water. If I got too close to the creek, he would push me away. Mother said that she never worried about me, because Max was always there to take care of me. I guess you could have called him my baby-sitter. He was always there to make sure that I was safe. He would chase sticks and balls no matter where they were thrown. He would even jump into the pond for them and then shake all over us after he got out. He was with us for years and never seemed to show his age except for the gray around his muzzle. Then one day he was gone. I can't remember exactly what caused his death, but he was simply too old to fight it. He was in his twenties which is really old for a dog. I can still see him laying on the front porch with one ear up and one front paw hanging over the step. Dad never really wanted another dog after Max wasn't there anymore. He was not only a good pet and companion, but a dear friend as well. If there is a heaven for dogs, he is probably top dog.

About Animals

About Animals