Vacation and Contest time!!!!!11!!1!!!1!

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Yeah, kind of lame. But I promised to resume normal posts on the 8th. So I have one more day to be abnormal. The contest for the used bedsheets and fruitcake is now open. I will accept entries via the comments feature from subscribers only for 1 week, contest closing on December 14, 2012 at 2359 Central time.

*(Hint: subscribing is free. Go to the upper right side of this page and follow the instructions. It’s the little box marked “Subscribe.” You get your daily blog post via email. You might win used (but clean) slippery sheets and a fruitcake. What are you waiting for?)*

Include your name, your phone number, and 2 reasons why you deserve used sheets and a fruitcake for Christmas. I will not post the comment until I take out your information. (Promise, double pinky-swear.) There will be extra credit given for the really amusing and sarcastic ones. Keep it clean, people, this is a family blog.

While you think about your reasons, consider a new vacation venue this year: North Korea! To think I’ve been wasting my time going to Las Vegas, San Francisco, Reno, Naples, Belize, and Des Moines. Pyongyang, here I come. Man, and to think Reno claims to be the bowling capital of the world.

(Say hello to the Dear Leader’s most recent ruling relative for me when you’re there. He’ll be the only one not observing “National Famine Week.”)

Link to the propaganda video. It’s really bad. Especially Boris Slobatnatakov’s accent. Also, extra points if you can identify the part of the brain damaged by watching this more than once. (Hint: The woman from San Francisco subscribes to the youtube.com channel for North Korea.)

Santa’s gift.

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Every year I deliver countless gifts as Santa. I often go into my own pocket to provide something for the little ones who might not have anything. I love doing it. It’s my joy.

But sometimes someone gives Santa a gift:

A gift for Santa.

I was sitting on my esteemed throne last Saturday at an annual event. I’ve been going there for years and years and I’m already booked at Primrose of West Plymouth for 2013. They’re great people and great families. About 2 hours into the event a young girl came up to me with a very shy, but intense, smile. She had a box in her hands and she offered it to me with the comment, “This is for you, Santa.”

I am always honored and touched when I get one of these gifts. They have run the gamut from a pair of antlers with “Santa” on them to a full spa set. Some are still on my fridge, some enshrined in my spare bedroom in a place of honor. And some I ate so fast you would have thought I’d opened an empty container.

This one was special. She’d obviously given great thought to the items inside. There were a series of small, hand-made Christmas tree ornaments with the name of everyone in her family inscribed on them. They are going up on my tree this week. The ornaments were layered on top of some caramels and chocolates. And she beamed when I asked if I should open it then or wait until Christmas.

I don’t take myself very seriously sometimes. But I certainly take Santa seriously. He means a lot to these small children. And they mean the world to him.

I’m back. I’m starting to heal. I will miss my friend Maisie for a long time to come, but the new life has begun and this small gift and the laughter and joy that accompanied it have helped me to become myself once again. Thank you for that gift, young lady. And thank you, Santa, for giving me a special window into the world around me.

And most of all, thank you to all of my readers who have sent so many kind and wonderful notes over the past week. I appreciate all of you and the fact that you’re here today. And I know that for many of you there were tears of your own for friends in your lives with fur. Some still here, some gone on ahead. Thank you for sharing this journey with me.

And soon, hopefully, there will be another member of the family to share the love we have. We’re working on adopting a rescue dog and overjoyed at the prospect of Ed having a companion and that fourth wheel being back on the car.

God Bless you all.

Meltdown Aisle 1, Meltdown Aisle 1 part 7 & final

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NOTE: If you choose not to read this series I understand. I will resume normal posts on December 8th.

THURSDAY NOVEMBER 29, 2012
Today is the day. I will never find enough words to describe how bereft I am today. But the bright side is that some healing has taken place during the past week. A lot of the grieving is behind me and while I will be sad to lose my girl I know it’s all for the best. I don’t want to see her in pain and sadness. The focus on her life, and my writing about it, has helped me to fully appreciate what a wonderful friend I’ve had in Maisie.

I will choose, instead, to be thankful that I had ten years with a wonderful friend whom I will miss until I join her in Heaven. Thank you, God, for putting Maisie in my life.

I am finishing this post just 2 hours and 15 minutes before we see the vet. Time is flying by at a rate I could never have fathomed before this week. But she’s outside barking at the neighbors and enjoying a sunny morning with Edzell. I got to wake up with her on my bed. And I will go to sleep tonight with her in my heart.

I thank you for coming to read this series of posts. I realize that some will consider it maudlin or excessive considering it’s a dog we’re talking about. But I don’t mind. It’s who I am. I cried at every movie where the dog died since I was a little boy. That relationship is so important to me that I will be glad to take the approbation and scorn it might inspire in some. I have known a love that only dog lovers will understand. And I’m cool with it.

I’d like to close the series with a prayer:

Lord, I’m turning my friend over to You until I can get to that house You have for me in Heaven.

Please let her bark in the new yard and consider it song.

Enjoy her presence as much as I will miss it in my life here on Earth.

Thank You, Lord, for ten magnificent years with one of your creations.

Bless my family in this time of sadness. We look forward to joy with You, and her, in Your Kingdom.

Amen.

Bye, Maisie.

Find some steps for us to share in Heaven.

Meltdown Aisle 1, Meltdown Aisle 1 part 6

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NOTE: If you choose not to read this series I understand. I will resume normal posts on December 8th.

This is part 6 of the toughest post I’ve ever put up on this blog. As you read it you will see why: it details the final week in the life of my beloved dog, Maisie. This is set to go up on the web during the week after we have her put down. I know I won’t be up to writing anything new for a few days.

I started writing this on Friday of the week before her death. When I woke up Saturday I knew there was much more to say and decided to make it a journal of my thoughts and feelings during that last week of our lives together. Her life is so intertwined with mine that where her gray butt begins and my gray beard ended was often indistinguishable. One big lump on the couch, one snoring mass on the bed, one contented ball of fur and drool on the carpet, and one love so deep that my head explodes when I think about it now.

Please hold us in your prayers. There are three grieving souls at this minute and one who’s gone on to wait ahead for us. Because if Jesus can count the feathers on a bird, I know He certainly has a fresh bowl of kibble and some water for a Sheltie. He’ll take good care of her until we can join her down the road.

Continue reading →

Meltdown Aisle 1, Meltdown Aisle 1 part 5

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NOTE: If you choose not to read this series I understand. I will resume normal posts on December 8th.

This is part 5 of the toughest post I’ve ever put up on this blog. As you read it you will see why: it details the final week in the life of my beloved dog, Maisie. This is set to go up on the web during the week after we have her put down. I know I won’t be up to writing anything new for a few days.

I started writing this on Friday of the week before her death. When I woke up Saturday I knew there was much more to say and decided to make it a journal of my thoughts and feelings during that last week of our lives together. Her life is so intertwined with mine that where her gray butt begins and my gray beard ended was often indistinguishable. One big lump on the couch, one snoring mass on the bed, one contented ball of fur and drool on the carpet, and one love so deep that my head explodes when I think about it now.

Please hold us in your prayers. There are three grieving souls at this minute and one who’s gone on to wait ahead for us. Because if Jesus can count the feathers on a bird, I know He certainly has a fresh bowl of kibble and some water for a Sheltie. He’ll take good care of her until we can join her down the road.

Continue reading →