Molly, the shredder Schnauzer

Learning about Schnauzers is the title of the book , so I open it and read when we first get our dog. While reading, I find a Schnauzer has high anxiety when its person or persons leave the house. They don't like being alone, and this is an understatement. Five years into this dog/person relationship we have experienced the anxiety of a Schnauzer named Molly.

When we leave the house we look back and pick up every piece of paper we can find that Molly can get in to, because she will tear paper into more pieces than you can imagine. It looks like she won the dog of the year contest when we return and find confetti in bazillions of tiny pieces all over the floor. I fully expect to see a tiara on her head.

She runs to the back door when she hears the key in the lock. She's excited! She wants us to see her shredding project. We walk in and wonder "Where in the heck did she find this paper towel?" She will search, when we leave--as though she is part bloodhound, until she finds a piece of paper. Can you imagine if she could stand up and reach for a roll of paper towels off the kitchen counter? Makes me shiver to think of it.

Let me get to the root of this particular story, for you see, I see everything as a potential story - - EVERYTHING! Last Saturday our town had a "trash off" and this was the perfect time to rid ourselves of "stuff" in our falling down shed in our backyard. First of all, my husband loaded the truck with lots of "stuff" he wouldn't even let me look through; I'm a hoarder you see. He comes in the back door ever so often, asking me to recycle things he thinks is in the shed. Okay, first recycle a Barnum and Bailey size tent we camped in a few times. By the time we got the tent up with all the stakes and found an area large enough for the tent we were ready for our nap in the tent. That tent was old! The last time we went I vowed never to camp again. Sand was in every crack and crevice of our bodies, the car, the kids (and that was a long, long time ago). What does this have to do with a Schnauzer you say? I'm getting to it folks.

I get on-line run a recycle ad for the tent we haven't used or seen in eons. I recycle the golf clubs and the bag. I recycle 2 weed eaters (one with a hole in the tank). Then, he comes in and says the tent has been eaten in totality, not a bite left. RATS! I write on recycle, Tent taken. This is not a lie. The tent has become recycled alright by momma rats making numerous nests for baby rats. The shed is inhabited and has been for a while. What is wrong with those feral cats we let live here and feed?

Golf clubs were gone immediately - - some recycler took the clubs and the bag. We told the recycler with their new found treasure to use hot soapy water and clean those clubs and the bag up really good. Now for the weed eaters - - gone, not in the shed. We have no clue where they went, probably recycled them the last time we cleaned up the shed. Another "taken" email to recycle!

Chick finds a treasure. A box of love letters from all my service pen pals and old friends and loves from 1959 when I moved from Indiana. Most are eaten up and gone, some are salvageable. I wrap them in a small paper bag to read later, and placed them on the end table. We left to go eat lunch. When we returned - - some of these treasures, 51 year old letters, were now (you guessed it) confetti. Rats and Schnauzer's - - who needs a shredder?

April 19, 2010 -- visit with mom and dad

April 19, 2010 - - visit with mom and dad
Very overcast day - -high 64 degrees

Chick and I went over for a short visit with mom and dad today to check out the tomato plants in the garden and take them some banana nut bread I had baked this morning.

Mom was in the kitchen and dad was sitting in his chair in the living room. I placed a slice of banana nut bread on their plates and sat down to talk to them. Dad had the television on NASCAR so loud I thought I might make this a short visit and mom wanted to talk but couldn’t find the right words. I kept trying to help her but nothing was coming out right. She has been talking about Decoration for a couple of weeks, not wanting to miss it at Stony Point. I told her to mark May 1 on her calendar when I talked to her on the phone this morning. She asked me again, when it is. I asked why she wants to go so badly and she said to make sure her mom and dad have flowers on their graves.

We went out on the porch and she pointed at the handicap ramp the neighbors have with rails. Their home health nurse fell this morning when leaving mom and dad’s house and mom wanted rails like the neighbors. I told her we’d check into it.

Today was a chilly day and she said she was cold, so we left the front porch and went back inside. She sat down close to me and said she wanted to tell me about her dream. I waited, thinking I would have to help supply the words for her to tell me the dream.

This is the dream: “I was at a funeral and there were people all around me. I don’t know whose funeral it was but these were people who are now deceased standing around me - - people I once knew. They were all around me when the back door opened and here comes Billy Jack Webster holding a little girl’s hand. He was laughing as he walked to the front of the church. I said, “Billy Jack, why are you doing that, laughing, at a funeral?” He said, “Because someone kicked the bucket and I always do that when that happens.” I said, “Who was the little girl", and she said her head was blotted out so she didn’t know, but she could clearly see all the other people there. She said, “I don’t know why I dreamed that dream.” I had goose bumps hoping it’s not a premonition of her death.

Musings!

I wonder why the woman was holding up a sign in front of the Opthamologist office I was driving up to? I just changed from the very doctor she was accusing of ruining her eyes. Fate! I don't know for sure what made me change doctors. Perhaps God said, change doctors, not sure.

Anyway, I pulled by her as I was parking and saw her sign. A sign warning people not to have surgery by Dr. Rudolph Churner who actually saved my eyesight 30 years ago when I first began to have problems. The sign read, "I had surgery by Dr. Rudolph Churner, ask me about it - - not good!" I intended to go back and speak with her when I finished at the office; however two hours later as I was leaving the office and blind as a bat from the dilation drops, the lady with the sign was gone. Now I had to wonder what happened. I thought if anything I might be able to soothe her. I know she was going through a major crisis. I wanted to tell her how Dr. Churner had helped me so many years ago when I was scared to death I was going blind. I wanted to tell her perhaps if she went in and talked to him in a human way and let him know how scared she is of being blind, or looking forward to seeing better again and after the surgery it didn't happen, perhaps he would explain to her what went wrong or perhaps he did all he could do but her eyes just couldn't be corrected. I don't know what I wanted to tell her. I care too much for people and their dilemmas. I can't fix the world. I need to learn that lesson. I can't soothe every one's ruffled feathers, and sometimes when I make that attempt to "fix things and make it all better" things get worse instead of better. Words can heal or hurt. It depends on the hearer of the words and how the words are perceived.

I came on home and thought about driving back tomorrow to see if she is still out there. Alas, I am sitting here in my gown and still wondering if I can help that poor soul who may have lost the windows to her world.