I HELPED DELIVER A PUPPY

On January 21, 2007 my family gathered in Lexington to celebrate my parent's wedding anniversary, as we do every year. Their anniversary is on the 24th, but this, I believe, was a Sunday. I, however, was unable to attend because I was in Henderson watching over my little dog, Taffy, who was due to deliver her second litter of puppies. She had previously done a great job with her first litter of two in the preceding year. I, in fact, had even wanted to help her with the delivery, but was met with a frighteningly threatening growl and a sudden snapping of sharp teeth. I figured she knew what she was doing and let her deliver two healthy little male puppies, each about the size of a stick of butter. Before going to bed that night, I reached in to pat her head to tell her what a good mom she was and found myself at the kitchen sink washing the blood from my badly punctured thumb. This was something new with Taffy, that I had not previously experienced, a protective mother. Flashing back to 2007, I was going to keep my distance this time and let her handle this delivery on her own.

Rather than let her have her new litter in a birthing box, I decided she would be more comfortable on the waterbed, so I stayed in the room, yet off the bed, when I realized she was going through labor. I think I was even taking a video as she started pushing the first little puppy out. But, something didn't seem right. She pushed and pushed, and I could tell that she was beginning to tire. After the previous birthing experience, I was not wanting to stick my hand anywhere near this mama bear of a little malti-poo with the oh so sharp teeth. I did however notice a change in her demeanor when I took a step closer to the bed, she mostly relaxed, so I reached in and helped deliver the puppy. He was breach and his entire body was out except for his head. It took a quick effort to reach in and push the little head out. Voila, we had our first boy of the second litter.

Taffy took over from there and I backed away once again as she delivered a girl and another boy. I called my family to share the news of this second litter. Because it was during the NFL playoff games and I had the sports section of the paper strewn about the top of the bed, I began labeling the newborns with their temporary litter names. These are their names up til they get to their new owners and their new names. I gave the first the name of Brady, as we were Patriots fans and their quarterback was Tom Brady. I gave the name Bree to the little girl ala Drew Brees and the last was Bear, for the Chicago Bears.

I've always tried to emulate my Aunt Linda when I have puppies to share. It's always ,"Who needs a puppy?" At that time I was certain of who needed these puppies and gave Cry Baby Bree to my Aunt Carol, who renamed her Sassy. I gave Bear to my dear friend, Jerri, who calls him Baxter and my daughter, Christina, received Brady, who she then named Roy G. Biv. As a family, we weren't crazy about the name Roy, as that's my dad's name, but I knew his name represented the rainbow, so Roy, it was.

Christina was such a good mommy for little Roy, I was so impressed with how responsible my little girl had become. However, when it was time for Taffy's third litter, she thought another puppy was just what she and Roy needed. So, after the third litter arrived, Christina and Roy got Riff. All seemed right with the world.

At the end of 2007, Mark and I were already making our move to Georgetown. I recall Christina bringing Riff and Roy over in their cute little matching blue coats. We actually celebrated our first Christmas here in Georgetown with Christina and Dustin, Riff and Roy, and Taffy and Pepper. It was so good to be back in Central Kentucky. I began babysitting for Riff and Roy when Christina was away at conferences. They loved the freedom of the big yard and being able to play with their mom and dad. It wasn't long until Christina's move from Lexington to Frankfort to an upstairs apartment made my taking Riff and Roy a no brainer.

I have enjoyed my family of dogs, even with the addition of Pudge over a year ago. Roy has always been the most vocal. He is the most talkingest dog I have ever been around. And he has always wanted the most attention. He hardly ever fails to let me know he is right there at my feet wanting to be picked up, but I can never deny him, he's just that cute.

And that's why I'm having a hard time today......Roy is gone. I dropped the ball and didn't get him put away before Mark drove up the driveway yesterday. I believe he was gone before I even got to the place where he was lying by the driveway. He has never been so silent. Thank you, God, for the opportunity to have this crazy little dog in my life and I hope he gets plenty of loving in heaven. luv, Susan

FEELING BETTER ?

I've been sick all year. I awoke New Year's Day with, what I thought was, a mild case of the sniffles. I asked everyone at church to please keep their distance from me. I took whatever cold remedies I found at the house and Mark agreed to bring me home stronger medication on Monday. Well, evidently, waiting a day to get stronger meds was the wrong decision. After one more day of thinking I could get over my symptoms with over the counter relief, I was hit hard later in the week with the realization that if I did not drag myself in to see the doctor, there was a good chance I might die. Even though my regular doctor was out of the office, I made an appointment to see someone at their office and I got what is commonly referred to as a Z-pac. I had heard good things about this concoction and had high hopes I would be back to myself in no time.

After five days of taking my antibiotics, I have experienced some improvement. I am happy to report that I am no longer coughing up pieces of, what appeared to be, my lungs. I no longer feel a constant river raging down my sinuses and I am actually beginning to believe I will recover. I'm just not bouncing around like I had hoped I would after completion of my Z-pac.

But, life does go on. So far during 2012, I have been able to see one of the year's best movies, in my opinion. The first time I heard about the movie, Warhorse, I knew it would be awesome. It had previously been highlighted as a stage play in London on Sunday Morning on CBS, a story about a boy and his horse. Through unbeknownst circumstances to the boy, the horse is transported into cavalry duty during a war. The boy joins the war effort and proceeds into battles to find the horse. War rages, lives are lost, yet there is the possibility of a reconciliation of our young hero and his four legged friend. This scenario was previously played out in the 1958 Disney movie, Tonka, which is the embellished, I'm sure, historical account of the lone US Cavalry survivor of the Battle of Little Big Horn, also known as Custer's Last Stand. During this Indian battle, all members of the US Cavalry were killed, save for one horse, known as, I was told, Comanche. I must have seen this movie when I was around seven or eight, I'm not sure. But it has stuck with me for nearly fifty years and seeing the story again unfold, this time against the backdrop of World War I, was astounding. I'm still trying to view Tonka again, but am so thankful to have been able to see Warhorse.

If you're following sports, you already know that Tim Tebow, after a six game, highly unlikely, winning streak, followed by three disappointing losses has been redeemed in the playoffs with a, do I dare say "miraculous" overtime 11-second touchdown drive, to knock off the highly touted Pittsburgh Steelers. Although I had previously been a lifelong fan of the Steelers ( I love Terry Bradshaw. ), I will not follow or root for a team that is led by a quarterback whose morals and character are questionable. Needless to say, I was happy and thrilled to see Tim Tebow and his Denver Bronco's survive and advance Sunday night.

On a personal note, I have learned that a chapter in the lives of my Henderson friends, Marla and Randy Owens, has come to a close. Their son, Ryan, collapsed and died on the football practice field behind Henderson County High School in July of 2006. They were devastated and wanted desperately to know what happened in the minutes before Ryan's death. As the school, coaches and administrators clammed up and circled their wagons, so to speak, they felt the only way to get the answers to their questions was to sue those involved. As a friend, I had advised against the lawsuit, giving Randy the Bible verse Romans 14:19 which states, "Let us therefore make every effort to do what leads to peace and mutual edification." I was led at that time to do all that I could to attempt a reconciliation between my friends and the school system. Randy and Marla had been the most loved and respected supporters of the school and football program right up until Ryan's death. My efforts for reconciliation fell short and at that time, Mark and I were blessed to be able to relocate to Central Kentucky where all my immediate family lives. We have been so happy here. I have anyway, you might want to check with Mark. It was hard for him to leave the Green River and his Henderson friends. Anyway, I saw on the news and read the reports in the paper that the lawsuit has been settled, something Randy said would never happen, but after five years of living with Ryan's death everyday, I know, Randy and Marla needed to move on. I pray for God's peace and comfort to enfold them and their family all the days of their lives.

My doggies and I are really getting cabin fever throughout this illness and colder weather. After a few days of springlike conditions, we are definitely ready for an early spring. Groundhog, please deliver for us.

I hope you are enjoying 2012 and have a great day, luv, Susan