Taking the Long Way Home ...

We're safely home after another endless road trip which pretty much amounts to me lying on three of my beds in the back seat of the car with cushions all around (Meme's definition of doggie air bags). In order to drink a simple splash of water I whimper a little so Meme will whip out this special water bottle that she squeezes and water dribbles pathetically into a sort of bowl that's attached.

We stop at weird parking lots along the highway with rest rooms and some pretty pathetic grass for me. Heaven forbid I set paw in the 'pristine' picnic areas. I totally don't get this because I'll put my little white paws up against their dirty shoes any day of the week, but I digress. We visit McDonalds and Wendy's and then overnight at the Hampton Inn which is totally boring because I can't even look out the window!

After a couple of days we finally get where we're going and we move all the stuff from the car into a strange house with all sorts of unusual smells, lots of sand outside to run in and more water than anyone could ever drink but for some reason I'm not allowed to. No sooner I adjust to breaking every routine I've ever known, we load everything back in the car, go through the whole fast food, parking lots, Hampton Inn thing again and end up back where we started from!!! Humans can be pretty confusing sometimes.

About a century ago; or was it sometime in the last century ... I get confused ... Meme's family would pack everyone into the car (3 kids and 2 very large dogs) and drive from Connecticut to Cape Cod where they would rent a little cottage for a week or two . Now mind you, the littlest kid sat in the front seat between Mom and Dad on top of all the sheets and towels and the other 2 kids, along with 2 giant dogs, were in the back seat with the dogs' heads hanging out the window with their drool running down the glass. And there they would all be for the next 4 hours or so counting license plates from different states, singing along together, with the littlest one in the front screaming "Where's my Cape Cod?" about a mile down the road from their house. No SUV, no station wagon, no DVD player, iPods, video games, no seat belts or child-safe seats ... just their 4-door Ford with the metallic green paint tooling down the road off on a holiday together. It was the best of times.

Meme has such wonderful memories of those vacations that the older she gets the more she wants to be back there. She does whatever it takes to recreate those moments kicking it up a notch by renting right on the beach looking out over the Atlantic ocean. They started out renting on Cape Cod a few years ago, but the older they get the harder the drive is for them so they keep moving closer to home. Poppy says why can't we just drive the 12 miles to our own ocean??? Why not just go to the beach every day and out to dinner every night right here? Meme just shakes her head in disbelief ... he just doesn't get it.

When you drive the back roads to Topsail Island you pass through a town called Fair Bluff. It's gone in an instant; you barely have time to draw a breath and if you're talking or not paying attention, you may miss it. For Meme it was like stepping back in time. We didn't go that route on our way up to Topsail, but we drove that way coming home. It's too bad Meme was at the wheel or she'd have pictures to share, but she says maybe it's meant to be left etched only in her mind.

With all the hours of driving and tons of days soaking up the sun and Topsail Beach, it's funny that little town stood out for her, but it did. Just about 40 miles from bustling Myrtle Beach, Fair Bluff rests along the Lumber River in Columbus County, NC. She laughed as we passed a sign saying "city limits" until she was reminded of the 'cities' in the 50's. As quickly as we entered the city it was gone and we drove past trees along the river covered with Spanish moss and on through the rolling countryside as if it never happened. But now she knows it's there ... Fairbluff. In a time when we yearn for a better world, Meme thinks this just possibly may be a town called "Hope" and a link to better times down the road.

But I've got my tail in front of my head again so let's get back to our vacation. We visited Topsail last year and Meme ached to go back. So before Poppy even knew what was happening poor guy was trudging up the stairs with bags and boxes for 9 days at the beach. He's getting a little long in the tooth for this, but Meme keeps saying the next time she'll pack more lightly. But what she actually does is buy lighter packing bags and puts all the same stuff in smaller boxes so each one may weigh less, but he ends up making a gizillion treks up the stairs!! He says why can't Meme find a house that isn't on stilts but she keeps explaining they couldn't see the ocean!!! It just never ends with those two. You have no idea what I have to put up with.

Once I settled in with all my favorite things close by me, we really did have a super duper time relaxing, sitting on the deck, taking walks on the beach and looking for shells. They also left me behind and went out to dinner, but I don't want to bring that memory back. The first couple of days there was a ton of rain as hurricanes passed way to our east. The waves were huge and I wouldn't go near them. But by the 3rd day the clouds slowly opened up to the most beautiful clear skies and soon after the fierce ocean we'd been greeted by quieted to beautiful rolling waves breaking along the shore and Meme was never far from her camera.

We brought home stones washed by the sea and shells thrown up by the waves and we've got hundreds of pictures to remind us of all those perfect days looking out over an ever changing sky and ocean. And still Meme thinks about the city of Fair Bluff where just for an instant following a perfect vacation, she was reminded of a time long ago when life was so much simpler and held so much promise.

Sometimes the back way can take a bit longer. But sometimes the answers lie in veering off the beaten track even if it takes us a little out of our way. One thing is sure, the ocean will always be there and hopefully so will the houses that lie along its coast. But when you come to a fork in the road, taking the road less traveled can sometimes make all the difference.

'Til next time ...

Molly

If you'd like to see more of our vacation pictures, just click here:

picasaweb.google.com/106137413221576546805/TripToTopsailIslandSeptember2011



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~ Being 70 ~

Well she's not really 70, not quite. But it's coming on like a freight train. She's trying to decide whether to hug it and own it, or defy it and fight it. She's leaning toward the latter; I'm pushing for the former.  After all, she's already way past 69. I say hug it and love it ... we're talking just a tiny baby step to the big 7-0.

I'm not going to tell you all the nasty stuff that goes on with every passing year after 60 (not 50 like you heard ... turns out 50 is the new 30 so you get a pass for that decade). But 60 is 60 and not the new anything. So after 60 stuff starts happening; slowly so you don't notice until you wake up one day and there are hairs growing where they shouldn't be and not growing where they should. 

Suddenly your skin starts getting little spots that expand on a daily basis and little thingies seem to come out of nowhere in the most alarming places. And no way I'm going to waste our time talking about the ugly thing your face does as the skin starts making its way to the ground without the skull you thought it was attached to!!! And other things fall down I can't even begin to describe.

Nope! Rather than focus on all that negativity, I want to tell you about the blessings of being 70. Meme's going to tell me them, but she has to reflect for a bit. Then I'll write it down so that when the time comes down the road, or even if it's already here for you, knowing these things will lift your spirits and brighten your day.
'Cause that's what I'm here for in case you didn't know.
There's the ocean at dawn before the sun comes up, when yours are the only footprints in the sand except maybe for mine. And the sun slowly rises saying "Lucky you, I'm giving you a bright new day". The difference in greeting that day being 70 is that you have the time to appreciate every single second. You see grains of sand where once you saw the beach. You see the sandpipers scurrying along the edge of the water instead of the dirty old shoe washed up on the shore.
And even if you see that shoe, now there's something beautiful about the way the shoelace falls on the sand creating rivulets as the tide turns away. The morning light plays against the worn leather. You take a picture because you need to capture that moment and hold it close to your heart forever. Now you have time to dream for a moment and imagine a loving couple down by the water years ago. They kick off their shoes to walk along the water and somewhere further down the beach, they forget about their shoes. Years later, there's that shoe washed up on the sand with the sun reflecting the years tossed by the ocean. You have the time now to reflect and smile about that.

The laughter of children takes on a new note since they were your own, back when you had to worry if they were strolling off or swimming out too far. Now their laughter blends with the breaking waves creating a symphony as you pass, the laughter fading behind you as you stroll by. Your own laughter feels joyous, easing all that may lie heavy in your heart and makes you feel as light as the air you breathe.

You wear a badge of the pain you've felt and the loves you've lost. You can still feel the exquisite pain of a 16 year old girl when the love she was so sure would last forever somehow ends. A pain so excruciating that she is almost sure her eyes will never dry and assuredly never stop burning. And 25 years later when that boy dies, the pain returns as wrenching as it was all those years ago. Of course you can tell all this to the 16 year old girl and she will look at you, eyes misted over, recognizing only your complete and total stupidity because how could you possibly know what she is going through. But you do. And that may not help her, but it definitely helps you.

At 70 you know how music makes you feel, taking you back to a special day at the beach on the Rhode Island shore when you sailed all day on a sunfish, hopped in his convertible to drive the long way home, top down, heat on and a cold wind blowing across your faces .... "What's New Pussycat" played on the radio. The sunshine made you both a bit fuzzy and you got lost on roads you knew well, but somehow you followed the moon and found your way home wrapped in a moment you would never forget. Music brings back memories so perfect; probably more perfect than they actually were.

Meme says that throughout a woman's life her friends are as important as family. Being 70, she is proud to count her best friends on one hand ... the friends she's known for 10, 20 and 30 years, who have seen her at her worst, her best and all those places in between. Some live close and some live far, but they are always there for her and she does her best to be there for them. Then there's the wider circle of friends ... the women who add laughter, lend support, send out a Birthday wish and soothe her when she bleeds. She feels her friends encircling her, securing her in a safe place. It takes years to feel this fortress of friendship. Friends are the foundation that hold you up and support you and you know when to walk away from what doesn't.

A nap is one of life's greatest blessings that all God's creatures enjoy as babies. Dogs are smart enough to never stop napping from birth through our final breath. But for people at some point the naps stop and don't start up again for decades. And then one day it's nap time again. No one knows better than me how good it feels to let a light blanket settle over you as you lie down in the afternoon, your eyes close and a soft, blessed sleep comes over you for a little while.

And finally, if you're really lucky, you've been married for a good long time to someone you know so well you can guess what he'll say next, who stands by you even when you're at your worst. You go to sleep at night comfortable knowing he'll be there with you as long as you both take breaths. You reach a level of contentment you cannot experience at 20, 30, 40 or even 50. You are settled, your roots firmly planted, you know who you are and finally you actually like yourself. You no longer question yourself nor apologize for who you are.
Sure you have less to look forward to than what you look back on, but is that necessarily a bad thing? I think maybe not. There's a reason we're not here forever.
And the good news is that dogs live less time than people so I'm catching up to Meme. I'm not 70 yet, but before you know it I'll pass her. And when all is said and done, I'm going to be there waiting on the other side and we'll cross that bridge together ... you know, the rainbow one with the pot of gold.'Til next time ...Molly

Unreasonable Doubt

Maybe the truth was just too difficult to absorb or too horrific to accept. Perhaps the jury could only take in the more digestible theory tossed out the first day of the trial … that it must have been an accident so devastating that someone needed to make it disappear, make it anything but what it was even though there were not then, nor are there now, any facts to support that theory, circumstantial or otherwise. But maybe the alternative was just too unspeakable for them to bear.

Meme is upset, I mean really upset. She believes in her soul that Casey Anthony got away with killing her little girl, not necessarily on purpose but purposeful or not, Caylee’s not here anymore. And Casey knew she wasn’t here as she frolicked flamboyantly through 31 days seemingly without a care in the world.

Sometimes when I write I'm not sure where Meme leaves off and I begin. I'm sort of an extension of her or maybe she is of me. But I can write for her almost as if she’s writing herself and that’s what I need to do today.

The trial was on TV every day, all day, for weeks. Her laptop in front of her, Meme would mute the TV during commercials and increase the volume on her laptop so she wouldn't miss a minute. She was reading Casey's letters from jail and absorbing evidence that tumbled around in her mind and invaded her dreams as she slept.

It would have been fun if it wasn’t all so horribly real, if it hadn't been about a little girl’s death at the hands of her own mother. The more she got to know the family, the more upset she became.

And then the verdict came down. As the clerk read the first charge followed by the words "not guilty" Meme said "she's going to walk". I wondered how Meme could be so positive about her guilt, but except for a few pictures, she saw and heard everything the jury did. And because they were often removed from the courtroom, everyone watching saw even more than the jury. So the armchair viewers became the silent jurors. The majority of those people heard the verdict with shock and disbelief and they're not so silent anymore.

In the days that followed, she tried to work through it. She wondered how the jury could have seen it so differently, puzzled over what trial they were watching … certainly not the one she had seen. A couple of jurors insisted they found "reasonable doubt" which left them unsure whether it was murder or an accident that caused Caylee’s death. Even though more doubt surrounded the accident theory than murder, they chose accident.

Reasonable doubt … maybe we live in a time where we're just too reasonable, excusing the inexcusable, forgiving the unforgivable, there are no bad people, just good people who do bad things … judge not lest you be judged or something like that. One of the jurors admitted she wouldn’t be comfortable judging another person.

So we look for excuses. We search for a family secret that could possibly explain the unexplainable. We give the benefit of the doubt even when little doubt exists. Children are raised with no consequence for bad behavior. Casey herself was only 22 years old when her little girl’s life ended. Her behavior for the 31 days following the death of her child was undeniably diabolical.

Meme believes the jury just couldn't accept what seemed so obvious to so many of us. Accepting the reality of little Caylee dying at the hands of the mother she adored was so abhorrent that they felt compelled to accept the hypothetical that Caylee drowned in the pool and her Mom simply lost her mind for the moment and committed unspeakable acts, or possibly someone else did along with her or on her behalf. They couldn’t judge because no undeniable absolute proof positive was placed in their laps. And then toward the end a witness who could explain it away, make Casey’s behavior okay, just one of many reactions a person can have when faced with enormous grief. The Defense played a game of psychological manipulation forcing the jury to take their eyes off the ball and focus on something more palatable … sleight of hand, smoke and mirrors.

And they succeeded. It’s easier to accept an accidental death, nobody’s fault. This pretty young woman couldn't possibly be so evil that she would drug her child to sleep and then either by mistake or on purpose overdose or smother her to death.

They sat in the jury box and saw the circumstantial evidence woven masterfully. Maybe they returned to their hotel rooms alone and away from their families and were so haunted by what they had seen that they just couldn't come to that conclusion. Maybe they couldn’t see the bits and pieces that separately could not condemn, but pieced together most assuredly could.

Who knows? We thought she was guilty; the jury said she wasn't. But more than one person knows what happened that day. When more than one person knows something, it's not a secret anymore. The awful truth, like scum, is sure to rise to the top one day.

And even if it doesn't, will Casey ever truly walk free? The media tells us she'll make money from people who believe they can draw the truth from her. I wonder if she knows her own truth anymore. She’s told so many lies that it all blends into something even she can’t figure out. She might be pitied if she weren’t so despicable. The best thing we can do right now is ignore her.

Life rights our wrongs either in this world or the next, but usually this one. The guilty may not be in prison but neither are they free. If she’s guilty, she carries that burden forever. Casey Anthony will not move gently through this life. She could change her name, her appearance, shut the door and never look back if she wanted. But her jailhouse letters tell how Casey reveled in her celebrity; she would ponder how to wear her hair the next day or what behavior the camera may have picked up in court. She’s shown no grief, no remorse, and no accountability for anything she has done. Cameras will follow her, strangers will write to her, even send her money, but the attraction is neither one of awe nor admiration.

The final verdict is not yet in; the final court has not yet spoken.

You’ve found safe harbor, sweet Caylee … rest with the angels.

‘Til next time ...

Molly

The Doctor's Office

So the stress test results say that Meme isn't 100% normal. We already knew that and it's not necessarily a bad thing. But poor Meme says "and so it all begins ... old age, tests, doctors, yuck".

She got a call from the doctor's office saying she needs another test, she's not 100%. Seems like if one test isn't normal, they do another test to actually find out what's wrong with you. Call me "just a dog", but I say why not just do that test straight out of the gate; save a lot of time, money and worry.

Of course she wants to know exactly what that means; just how much of a percent is she? But they won't talk over the phone. She's told she can come in the next day and discuss it with the nurse practitioner. I should explain that Meme's doctor became one of those fancy boutique kind that you pay an annual fee just to be able to talk to them. So now she's pushed off on the nurse.

But the nurse wouldn't get on the phone with her. Again they insist she must come to the office (i.e. become billable) and then they'll talk. Meme had a few choice words while all the time assuring the voice on the other end of the phone that she's not angry at her, just the situation. She's told she can either come in or see a cardiologist to talk about the results. She decides to go that route. She asked if it was any kind of emergency and she was assured it was not, she should go on vacation and enjoy ... plenty of time when she returns.

A couple weeks later her appointment was at 12:30. They called the day before to confirm and ask her to arrive 15 minutes early to fill in paperwork. Because she always plays by the rules, she was dutifully there 20 minutes early. The paperwork took maybe 2 minutes tops. There were several people in the waiting room, but there's more than one doctor so no worries. She settled in, there was a nice widescreen TV tuned to her favorite news, all was well.

There were 2 clipboards on the counter ... "Gastro" and "Cardio" and Meme came to realize there was one doctor for each clipboard. Another patient grumbled a bit about the wait, went up and looked at the Cardio list. He told his wife the last guy in (at 12:45) had an 11:15 appointment! He sat back down and they continued holding hands as they had been doing since Meme got there. Meme thought how sweet that was, but she's not nearly as patient as this nice couple.

About 10 minutes later Meme ventured up to the desk and asked the girl how long a wait did she think it might be, how late was the good doctor running? She clicked away on her keyboard, looked at the clipboard and then clicked again. She said "You're Heather, right?" Yes. And then ... "There are 4 patients ahead of you."

4 Patients??!!! Say WHAT??!! It's 1:15 now. One patient had been called since she arrived. Being a bit of a numbers whiz, she quickly does the math and realizes that at that rate she'd be there at least 2 more hours! And she hadn't even had lunch! They asked if she'd like to reschedule and she said yes, that would be a good idea.

You may already know that I believe everything happens for a reason. Well, I'm right. As she stood there hoping she wouldn't go into cardiac arrest in the meantime, Meme decided to confirm that the office received the stress test and blood work results her doctor had faxed over. Click, click, click .... "Ummmm ... I see we received your mammogram ".

HER MAMMOGRAM???!!!! Hello! Oar out of the water? One or two porch lights out? What gives here? Meme's in a Cardiologist's office for Pete's sake!!!!! I guess I don't need to tell you that Meme had a little conversation with her doctor's office the next day.

They told her that since she'd already filled out the paperwork and provided her license and insurance card, she only needed to arrive about 5 minutes early to which Meme responded "Well, you already owe me an hour soooo.......".

Postscript: Meme opened a letter from her insurance the other day. They were billed almost $7,000 for the stress test. This is after about $5,000 for the blood work. And she feels just fine!! We don't even want to think about what happens when she's actually sick. Maybe these tests will avoid that, maybe they won't. Of course her insurance didn't pay all that money and Meme will have to pay some, but $12,000 seems like an awful lot to me just because she mentioned maybe it was time for an EKG. That's how this snowball started rolling down this horrible hill.

Not even going to tell you about my health issues; that's a chapter for another day. But I feel fine so I'm not going anywhere near a doctor if I can help it

'Til next time ...
Molly

Fair warning from one who knows ...

Meme was out of the house real early this morning. I wondered what on earth could be so important that she'd leave me so early, and with no breakfast (I always get extra food when she has breakfast). She didn't seem upset so I thought maybe she was headed out for some special treats or something.

Boy was I ever wrong ... and so was she!!! She thought she'd be gone a little over an hour ...ha! Instead what happened next set her brain in a tailspin (pardon the pun) and she came home dragging and all meshuggeneh. So while she's recovering I'll do my best to translate what she said and tell it as close as I can to how she told us.

There are some words we should never trust ... things like "mild discomfort", "you'll feel a bit of a pinch", and now this new one: "maybe a little rushing or flushing sensation". These are words commonly used in, you guessed it, the medical profession. And if some friend tells you a test was "a piece of cake", don't trust them either because we're betting they were slipped something under the table from somebody somewhere ... maybe a Starbucks gift card (more on that later).

Seems Meme went for a Nuclear Stress Test. She can't have the regular kind because of problems from her car accident. She made the mistake of not googling 'nuclear stress test' before she went today; she googles everything under the sun so this was an oversight or maybe not. I don't get it at all because one of her favorite sayings is "forewarned is forearmed". Well, poor Meme wasn't armed at all this morning!

She arrived at 8:30 a.m., right on time. She'd been barred from all food and drink since last night and no caffeine since yesterday morning. So already she's not off to a good start. And then she woke up with an awful headache ... two strikes.

Strike three was over an hour wait which I think is a huge no-no for a stress test!!! No coffee, no food, and now an hour wait? I mean, are you serious? Let's stress this lady out first and then do a stress test. So when she finally got in (the doctor was late ... what else is new?), her BP (usually very low) was up. But given the temper tantrum she was trying to control, she thought it was pretty darned low all things considered.

She's been fortunate health-wise throughout her life. She's had chicken pox, tonsillitis, colds, flu's, a few relatively minor surgeries, back problems and one major car accident. Other than that, she's in really good health when you think about all the birthday cakes she's eaten. But she's had a lot of tests and according to her sometimes tests can be as bad as whatever is wrong. Now and then we just may be better off riding it out and letting the chips fall where they may.

She can't have a "closed" MRI, goes insane in the tube. But going in for this test, it never occurred to her a tube was involved. So finally, IV inserted (surprise...who knew?), she walks into the room where everyone is being way too friendly and warm while the room is absolutely frigid. It's over 90 outside, why do these places have to be so darned cold? She sees the table and the tube and decides to remain calm and not give herself away. No one wants to be a wimp.

As instructed, she lay down on the table with her head in some sort of pillowed device that didn't feel bad at all. She was then attached to all sorts of monitors. She couldn't see so she didn't know what, probably just as well. She mentioned she was really cold and they gave her a blanket which was nice, but didn't help her bare arms which had to be stretched way above her head the entire time. They tell her this will take just 25 minutes and all she has to do is lie completely still.

Easy right? Easy wrong. Lying still is not as simple as it sounds because it's another word (at Meme's age) for instant cramping, her foot going numb, and itches on her cheek and eyelid that she can't wiggle or scratch away because she's not supposed to move. So Meme decides to use meditation. Visions of beaches, soft breezes on her cheek and the soothing sea start to form in her mind as she prepares to lift herself from where she is and put herself in another place and time. She can do this.

Suddenly the table starts moving into the tube and Meme's tiny voice says "you're not leaving me inside the tube, are you?" No, no ... not to worry, going straight through. Midway, the table stops. Instant anxiety attack begins and she calls out "Don't leave me in this tube!!" Silence. "HellOOOOOOO! Get me out of this tube!!" ... not such a tiny voice anymore. And a seemingly distant voice says they're just taking a couple of pictures and then they'll take her out. "I CAN'T BE IN THIS TUBE!!!"

Pictures finished for the moment, they push her all the way through, but by now she's a nervous wreck. They tell her the first set of pictures will be 10 minutes; lie perfectly still breathing normally, being careful not to move her arms or chest. What seems like 3 hours later they inject the medicine into her vein so they can see how her heart functions under stress.

So Meme says "Will I feel it?". A new voice answers "You may feel a small rush, but it will be gone in a couple of minutes". Okay, not so bad ... Meme was a young girl in NY in the 70's, a small rush could be a good thing, even better than meditating.

"Small rush"???? Ha! I don't think so! Meme says she felt a sudden surge like she'd never felt before, her heart beating fast but more than that ... an alien force seemed to go through her entire body ... almost felt like she would explode. So she said "I'm not liking this a whole lot". Her doctor was there to soothe her, saying it was all okay, that she and the others were there to "guard" her. Guard her!!!???? Why oh why, she thought, do I need guards???

Thankfully she read only later that in the rarest of circumstances it's possible one could experience a heart attack or other "complication" during the test. Terrific. She didn't. She survived. And because of the inconvenience of the long wait, they gave her a Starbucks gift card for $10!!! Pretty nice. That should cover a tasty mocha latte enchilada at the very least.

She was barely able to walk out of there she was so hungry, so longing for caffeine and a really delicious treat. She managed to get behind the wheel and drive about a mile to the nearest Starbucks where she had a good strong cup of Joe along with a yummy chocolate chip coffee cake (not a drop for me...go figure).

She sat in her car just feeling so good to have it over. So she popped over to Panera's for a couple of scones to take home and an asiago cheese bagel to wash down the chocolate chip coffee cake. I know!!! Go for a stress test to check if your arteries are flowing free and then load those same arteries down with plaque!!! But I don't get to tell Meme what to do.

Here's my conclusion, though. Beware of tests. I've had them and I know. They tell you there's nothing to it, done in a jiffy, it won't hurt or only a mild "discomfort". But it's just not true. Even the tests are the pits and I think that oftentimes things are better just left alone. Let the body do its thing and when your time's up, it's up. We live too darned long anyway and something's gotta getcha at some point. The main thing we need to do is hope it's quick. Pray for quick.

Yeah, okay, so maybe you disagree. That's okay. All I know is Meme came home from lying on a table for 30 minutes and to hear her tell it you would think she'd run like a gazelle to the top of Mount Kilimanjaro. She lasted about an hour before lying down and falling into a blissful sleep, leaving me all on my own to tell you her story, even typing it out myself here.

The moral according to me? Ask for only the most basic of information before going in for any testing if you're going to do it at all because reading everything on google is going to make you crazy. If you're over 65 skip the tests unless you're actually sick. Believe me, they'll test you for everything if you let 'em. Chances are you're fine and you'll give up half your day for nothing ... someone will make a lot of money and it won't be you.

But what do I know? I'm just a little white dog.

'Til Next Time ...
Molly

The Dance

We've heard it all before ... 'it's the journey, not the destination'. Garth Brooks tells us he could have missed the pain, but then he'd miss the dance. We all know it's what we should do, greet every single day with joy rather than count the days 'til the end of the week, the first day of Spring, Christmas, the end of winter ... accept the agony of pain, the wisdom we learn from defeat, and move on through life experiencing the bumps we find along the road. We know this. But sometimes, lots of times, we forget to slow down and just enjoy the ride every single day.

There's a couple kinds of dances that we do. First, there's life's daily dance and then there's the crazy spinning in circles dance, the one when you pretty much know where you're going to be standing when the band stops playing, but you dance around in circles just in case it will take you somewhere else. Usually, though, you end up right where you thought you would even if you'd just danced once around the floor.

On January 15, 2001, I was born. In December 2000 Meme said to Poppy ... "I want a dog." And Poppy said, "We don't need a dog".

January came and Meme was still talking about getting a dog, her family always had dogs in her childhood and she promised herself that once she retired, she would adopt a dog. But Poppy kept saying they didn't need one and right about that time, I was born. I'm a natural born Floridian, born in Daytona Beach ... and some say there are no "real" Floridians, but I'm living proof that there are!

Meme has a really good friend who knew how badly Meme wanted to find me and how much I would add to both their lives. But Meme told her "I don't know, we need to both want a dog, not just me". And her friend said (and Meme has never forgotten this) .... "You're just doin' the dance."

And so they danced around the idea of a dog through the rest of January and all the while Meme was searching the internet looking for me. Of course, Poppy eventually relented as he always does (not sure why he even tries to go against my Meme because once she makes up her mind she is relentless!). All that was needed now was for the stars to align so we would meet and that's just what happened in the middle of February when she and her friend drove north to Daytona Beach.

And there I was with my litter mates. Meme picked me up and I nuzzled into her neck and magic happened, the stars aligned and everything fell into place. It was in that moment that I found her, she found me, and on that day the dancing around in circles was done, but life's dance had only just begun .... at least for me.

In the 10 years that followed sometimes I would lead and sometimes they would (mostly me though). One of my biggest challenges is trying to get them to notice me when they're about to go out the door and I can't think of a reason in the world they can't take me along. Sometimes they do, but sadly I'm often left behind. Over time, guess who fell in love with me and wondered how he could possibly have considered not getting "a dog". You guessed it. And I could have told him what would happen because I'm not just any "dog" ... I am Molly and they were put on this earth just for me and of course I was born especially for them.

I got to thinking about all the times people check off days on the calendar looking forward to the next big event without enjoying the dance of life every day. Maybe we start to think more like this when we get a little older and the 'days dwindle down to a precious few'. When we're young it seems like our days will go on forever. An infinite period of time lies ahead so we often end up just looking forward instead of enjoying the moment.

I live in the moment; all dogs do. I care what's happening this second ... and now this one. I don't have the ability to think ahead or look back and learn from my mistakes; I don't understand that when times are tough and everything seems as dark as it can possibly get, it will get better. If I'm in the vet's office sitting on that table and they're poking me I just hate it. And no amount of "this will be over soon" is going to placate me. Still, somehow I know it's all part of the dance ... even the lousy stuff. And like Garth says ... we could have missed the pain, but then we'd also miss the dance.

Remember the colors of the festive holiday season? All the joy, the happy sounds of laughter, the gentle feeling of good will seems to be everywhere? A snowflake strays to your windowsill and you just happen to be there at the window right at that moment and you watch as it sparkles in the glow from the firelight inside.

That one snowflake, different from any other that has ever fallen, will melt away ... but that's just one tiny moment in the dance we call life. And while the snowflake will melt, the joy of that moment, different from any other before or since, will live forever in your heart. Imagine if you'd missed it, imagine if you had turned away and when you looked back it was gone.

Cherish this day ... it will not come again.

'Til next time ..
Molly