Wednesday, August 4, 2010

A Dog Story

I wrote this story for the Black Warrior Storytelling Festival in which I was one of the storytellers. The experience is remarkable and I am honored to be asked to share a story. The story is written to be performed, not simply read so it may be a bit choppy. The italicized words represent the dog speaking. Hope you enjoy it!


Today I’m going to tell you about dogs. No, I’m not a vet. No, I’m not a trainer. In fact, this isn’t another “pet story”...a Marley and Me kind of story; although it does involve a dog named Marley. And one named Abby. And one named Zorro. And one named Nub.

You see, I’m a dog magnet. I attract dogs of all kinds--literally and figuratively. However, I’m focusing on the literal kind today.

When I thought about a story to tell, I realized that every story I started to write involved a dog. A dog to rescue, a dog to comfort, a dog just to be a dog. Then I realized that the fictitious dogs didn’t compare to the ones that had been my own actualy dogs.

So this is my story told through the eyes of my dogs.

The first one was a Boston Terrier named Nub.

I have no tail. It is just a nub. So my owners call me Nub. I hang around a family with a little girl with curly blond hair who tends to pick me up a little too much.
But I have a problem. I like to chase cars, especially the paperboy and his reckless car. One day, I got hit. I lay there breathing deeply, not sure if I was alive. I heard that voice, calling, crying, pleading for me to come to her. I had to obey. So I did. I pulled myself up and ran...after being hit by a car, I still found the energy and strength to RUN to her. As years passed, I gave up on chasing cars, but always found time to romp with my girl. I especially liked giving her a big slobbery lick on the back of her leg on a hot humid day. I’m her buddy. She sometimes calls me Nubby and I try to wag what little bit of a tail that I have. Usually I just wag my behind.

Years later, after Nub passed away, a special dog named Zorro entered my life. He was a black chow/lab mix.
Most of all, Zorro was a one family dog who was truly a snob.

It’s been raining and I don’t want to get my feet wet. Hey! Please put me in the basement for a storm is coming. Not just any storm. A big storm. Hey! HEY! PUT ME IN THE BASEMENT NOW!....Thank you. Ah, good, the storm has passed and the children are playing at the school yard. I think I will tease them by wagging my fluffy tail. Come closer little ones. come pet the dog with the wagging tail. Come on....RUFF!! Ha, ha, ha...they ran away. they ran away...lalalala....my girl. she is here. I will pose for the camera. Shutter snaps. Tail wags. Nice. I won’t look at her when she calls my name. I will just look regal and wistful and when the shutter snaps, I will look. Snap! How was that one? Good?

Zorro was a perfect model for black and white shots and he always made very artistic poses. Zorro was protective dog who, whenever I came home late, would walk through my home making sure it was safe. I was never afraid when Zorro was around.

Much later, a shiz tsu mix named Abby entered my life as I was getting married. She was black and white and quite a comedian. She would hide in the weirdest places--under the treadmill, under the baby’s changing table, in a pile of clothes that needed to be folded.
Abby had even seen ghosts in our house.

Hey. Whatcha doing? Are you going to eat that? Hmmm.....I think I’ll take a nap. Could you move over, please? I mean, just because you are sitting here does not give you the right to take my spot. What spot? The whole couch, silly! So, move...just move...(sigh)..

There’s is nothing worse than sitting with your dog and suddenly they just sigh out. Abby would do that frequently...as though I was boring her. Then she would get up and leave the room. I would find her lying on the bed, snoozing.
It was like she was saying, well, if this is the best you can do, I’m going to bed.

But then other times, Abby would appear when I needed her most.
Hey. Whatcha doing? Are you crying? Ah...I’m here. Right here. Don’t cry. You have me to hold and hug. I’ll lick your tears away. Do you want me to just be quiet and little? I’ll sit in your lap and you can hold me and hug me until you feel better. I’ll just listen. I’m your angel in furry pajamas, remember?

Abby was there during some very sad times in my life. The worst time was when I had to let her go to live with my ex-husband because my youngest son is allergic to dogs.
Don’t worry. I’m not going far. In fact, I’m going to watch over your sons when they are gone. Remember...I’m your angel in furry pajamas.

I dismissed the idea of getting another dog. My son Parker is allergic to them, I am a single parent raising two young sons...when would I have time or energy to take care of a dog? even though my older son Hunter longed for a dog....I knew it would be difficult to have one...

Then one afternoon a strawberry blonde with a black nose showed up in our yard.
She had no collar and was definitely a puppy...and she was one of those dogs who would hang out at an elementary school visiting with the children before and after school.

But our neighbors decided to keep her. There was some disappointment and I heard myself telling my neighbor, “If you ever decide to not keep her, let me know. We would love to have her.” What? Where did that come from? Was I crazy? But I found myself thinking...if I could have a dog like that, I would get one....

And that’s when the wind changed direction, a certain twinkling in the stars occurred...
because on Halloween night my neighbor said, Do you remember when you said you would take Marley? I’m planning on taking her to the pound so if you want her, you can have her.

Oh no. What have I done?!

And now there is Marley...
I’m so happy. Happy, happy happy! Wow. Two little boys to play with. Come chase me! hahahaha...Oh, there she is. We’re going for a walk, right? C’mon, c’mon, c’mon...Let’s run, run, run! Wheeee! (cough!) okay, okay, I’ll slow down. I’ll wait. Oh wow. I think I’ll dig another hole. Oh. Let me dig one over there. Yeah, yeah. That’s it. Hmm...what does this root taste like? What is this green thing with flowers on it? I wonder what it tastes like? Oh, that long green tube thing...a garden hose. Yes, we had a fight. I won! Yea! Oh, you’re home! Let’s play! Come chase me!


As silly as it may seem...I really hear their voices and what they have to say.

You see, these dogs represent what I hope to be to others.
Nub offered affection and devotion. Zorro offered strength and dignity. Abby offered companionship and compassion. Marley has offered joy and hope.

All of these dogs have been what I long to be to others--a true, authentic, genuine friend.

So the next time you are around a dog or see a dog....hang around it for a little while. It probably has something to tell you. And I think it’s going to be something good.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

The Five Year Plan

“Look, Momma, the number five,” Parker exclaimed as he saw the number on a billboard.
“Yes, Parker,” I said. “I see it.”
“I’m five. That’s my number,” Parker said with such pride. “I used to be a baby, but now I’m not. I’m five.”
Five years old. How can that be? Most companies want to design a five year plan. Some people set goals to accomplish in five years. Yet, somehow in five years, a tiny baby became a child with a fascination with Star Wars, the need to follow specific rules, and the ability to beat anyone at a game of Uno . At that moment, I thanked God that he is five because five years ago I wasn’t sure if he would live to be any age, much less five.
At a mere three weeks of age, Parker was rushed to the hospital because of a high fever. The doctors diagnosed him with meningitis, an inflammation around the brain. He was admitted to the hospital and it became a waiting game of exactly what type of meningitis he had--viral or bacterial. Brain scans were done, prayers were said, and many tears were shed. Such fear of losing my sweet Parker gripped me and I could not imagine a life without him. He lay in a bed fighting the illness and all I could do was pray and cry.
After 48 hours, the reports found that the meningitis was viral and would run its course. Parker would be okay. Our prayers were answered and this little life would remain in this world.
Five years can seem like such a long time. In the past five years, I’ve hit rock bottom and found the only thing that could pull me back up--the love of Jesus. I have seen some incredible moments of great joy that brought tears to my eyes. In those times, I also felt the amazing love of Jesus. In five years, the gains and losses in my life have shaped and influenced my choices. They have caused me to walk more cautiously, be a bit more skeptical, but they have also pushed me to strive for something greater, something better, and something that lasts beyond this world. In these past five years, I have gone through a divorce, had close friends move away, and have had loved ones pass away. However, I have also made new friends, developed new hobbies, and have had the incredible joy of raising my two remarkable sons.
As we got out of the car, I noticed the swagger Parker had as he walked toward the church. He was dressed in his khakis and a blue striped collar shirt. His brother walked beside him and told him to not be nervous.
As we entered the building, Parker ran to his friends and waved bye. Hunter pulled out the video camera as we found our seats near the front. The swell of “Pomp and Circumstance” filled the room as Parker’s preschool class walked on stage.
“This song makes me want to cry,” Hunter said.
I simply nodded because the words wouldn’t form behind the knot I had in my throat. In five years from now, I will have a nine year old and a thirteen year old. I don’t know what will happen during those years. However, I do know that the One that has been faithful for the past five years will be faithful for the next five years and many more to come.
God is faithful (reliable, trustworthy, and therefore ever true to His promise, and He can be depended on); by Him you were called into companionship and participation with His Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. I Corinthians 1:9

The Race

“Run your own race, Hunter,” I said, as we lined up with the other runners. “Just run your own race.”
I had no idea how often these words would continue to echo through my mind months after Hunter and I participated in a 5K race. Somehow, whenever I begin comparing my life to someone else’s, or I start thinking that I was supposed to be more like Mother Teresa and less like Cruella DeVille, then I hear those familiar words...”run your own race.” Immediately, I go back to that memorable day when Hunter and I ran the Wildcat Run at Kentuck Park.
Hunter nervously paced as we got our racing numbers and began warming up for the race.
“Just take your time,” I told him. “Don’t start out too fast or too slow.”
He nodded.
“I’ll be near you, but don’t wait for me,” I added. “Sometimes I’ll be ahead of you. Don’t worry. Just keep me in sight.”
He nodded again. At that point, I could tell my words were simply landing in random places around him, but not actually penetrating his ears or his mind. I stopped talking.
Suddenly, runners began forming at the starting line. Hunter saw a few boys close to his age so he moved up beside them. The gun fired and we were off.
Hunter took off and I followed close behind. The slight incline caused several runners to slow their paces to an easy rhythm. Not Hunter. He kept pushing. I ran up beside him. We took the corner and saw my mother and my younger son Parker.
“Go Momma!” Parker shouted. “Go Hunter!” I glanced at Hunter and saw a quick grin flash across his face.
As the race went on, Hunter decided to walk for awhile.
“I’ve got a catch in my side,” Hunter said.
I nodded and continued running. “Just keep me in sight, okay?”
I would glance back and see our distance was getting a bit too far. I could see him, but I also noticed that he wasn’t pushing himself like he had at first. He started doing what he always does when he is in God’s creation--getting lost in the wonderment of it all.
I looked at my time. I could finish one of my fastest races, but that’s when I realized. This race wasn’t my race. It was Hunter’s. Somehow finishing the race wasn’t so important. I ran back to Hunter.
“C’mon, let’s start running.” I said. “I’m not finishing this thing without you.”
“I’m really tired,” Hunter moaned.
“I know. But in only ten minutes you’ll be finished. You can do this.”
We started slowly running when we spotted my mom and Parker cheering for us again. It was just what Hunter needed to pick up the pace. Then we saw a few pretty high school girls cheering for us. He beamed when they erupted in a roar when he ran by.
Finally, we spotted our destination.
“Let’s run it in!” I said, pointing to the finish line.
At that moment, I felt like I had stepped back in time. I saw my little baby in my arms; I saw my blue-eyed angel playing with Thomas the Tank Engine; I saw my lizard-catching, nature-loving, full-of-laughter gift from God rolled into one running machine. I grabbed his hand and we ran together. Suddenly, he began sprinting to the finish line. I purposely let go of his hand and slowed down so he would have his own finish time.
“Run your own race” seemed to flow through my mind as Hunter cross the finish line. I thought about how I look at what other kids are doing and question if Hunter or Parker should be participating in the same activity. I look at other people and think that I should be doing more of that or less of it, depending on what it is. At that moment, I paused and realized that I have to “run my own race.” I have to do what is best for myself and my sons. I cannot follow the same path as others. Just as God has designed Hunter and Parker for specific, individualized plans for their lives, He has also set forth a course for me that is unique and perfectly designed for me.
I could have finished this race on my own in one of my better racing times, but getting to this finish line was better than any other. I shared it with my son as he “ran his own race.”

“....but I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward--to Jesus. I’m off and running and I’m not turning back.” Philippians 3:14

You Rock!

“Hey, Momma, whatcha doing?” Parker said sweetly.
Any other time I would have said “nothing much” or “cutting coupons” or “grading papers.” At this moment, I was speechless. At this moment, I was on stage in front of an audience of about 300 people at my church. Parker, in all his confidence, decided that he wanted to be a part of the drama ministry and joined me on stage. One minute I was acting in a drama with a fellow actor when I turned and saw Parker standing beside me.
“Hey, Momma, I wanted to help.” Parker said emphatically.
“Thank you, Parker,” I said. I scrambled to make this work in the skit. “But this deals with grown up stuff. You need to go sit back down.”
No luck. Parker decided it was time to hug me. Between stifling snickers and maintaining my focus, I was truly stumped. How was I going to get my child off the stage and continue the skit?
Hunter, with his clever timing, jumped on stage and ad libbed the line, “C’mon, Parker, let’s go play in our rooms.” However, Parker wasn’t buying it. I looked at my acting partner. He grinned and shrugged, giving me a wink that meant “the show must go on.” I could hear the audience laughing. So the skit continued with two young boys standing on stage, participating in the drama.
Confidence. Where does it come from? Why does it seem to dissolve in the presence of perfect people, hostile confrontations, and day-to-day decision-making?
As a single parent, I know too well of losing my confidence in so many things. I often stand on shaking ground when making decisions about managing my finances, setting career goals, and planning for the future. I get nervous about decisions I make that impact my kids--their education, their personal lives, and their emotional well-being. I have even been known to lose a great amount of my confidence in simply believing in myself.
Fortunately, I have found that a few thing have strengthened my confidence. First, I pray about it. I search scripture to make sure it aligns with God’s teachings. If there is any sign of “no,” then I don’t do it. I also believe what God says about me. Proverbs 31:25 states “she is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.” Another version reads “strength and dignity are her clothing and her position is strong and secure; she rejoices over the future [the latter day or time to come, knowing that she and her family are in readiness for it]!” That sounds pretty confident to me. If that is what I am--strong and dignified--then I will take that description and wear it proudly.
Next, I talk to close friends who won’t give the answer I’m looking for. I seek out those who will counsel in wisdom and kindness. It is not easy. I often want to go to that friend whom I know will encourage me to do what I want to do, but it may not be wise nor will it be the right time. Proverbs 27:17 says “You use steel to sharpen steel, and one friend sharpens another.” My friends encourage, challenge, warn, support, and love me through it all. I try to do the same for them.
Finally, I let myself make mistakes. If I fail, then I have learned something. I ponder the repercussions, look at the benefits and risks, and then step out on faith. I know that if I avoid taking risks because of fear then I am limiting myself. I love 2 Timothy 1:7 “For God did not give us a spirit of timidity (of cowardice, of crave and cringing and fawning fear), but (He has given us a spirit) of power and of love and of calm and well-balanced mind and discipline and self-control.”
Parker and Hunter remained on stage throughout the skit and even threw a few lines in just to emphasize the points of the message. An explosion of applause erupted at the end of the skit and the pastor added, “You rock, Parker.”
When I look back on what I have done and the choices that I have made, I hope that I can have that same bold confidence that Parker showed when he was on stage. He was definitely clothed in strength and dignity. He paid no attention to the crowd. He wasn’t worried that everyone was looking at him. In fact, he just wanted to join in on the fun. I hope that I will always move with boldness and confidence. One day I hope to hear my Heavenly Father say, “My good and faithful servant Jody....You Rock!”