Not-So Happy Endings February 6, 2015

I wonder sometimes why things happen a certain way. Why, in a world filled with such distinctly exciting opportunities for joy, are there any stories of hate? Why do there have to be bad days mixed with good? And why (oh why?) do bad things happen to good people?

I seek to find the good in all people, places and things. And I thought for sure I had found it in this story. A few months ago, a friend of mom’s took in 10-year-old Eddy to save his life. His owner decided he was too much work in his old age and tried awful things to encourage him to move along. She hit him with a garbage can. She tried to shoo him out the door and run him down the street. She thought about leaving him in the garage until he starved to death. These are real and horrible things she tried to do to rid him from her life.

In swooped her daughter, Margaret, to save the day. Margaret has since offered her home to Eddy, even though she has a small child and another dog to care for already. She has cared for him and seen him through multiple emergency visits to the veterinarian for issues with his diabetes and a urinary tract infection. Because she loves him. 

Which makes this new chapter to the story that much harder to tell. Dear Eddy has been nipping at Margaret’s nine-month-old son for a couple of days now. And it’s not getting any better, in spite of training and other intervention methods. He is irritable and often is the reason the baby misses naps during the day and can’t sleep through the night. In spite of the love Margaret’s heart, something’s got to give.

I can’t imagine a harder decision than the one she faces. Eddy is miserable. He’s unhappy. He’s uncomfortable. But he’s loved, and in that way he is incredibly blessed.

Sometimes I don’t understand why these kinds of things happen. Why the family who has come to the rescue has to suffer like this. Why Eddy would purposely put a little person in harm’s way. And why stories like this don’t seem to have happy endings.

But, in reality, they do. Eddy has known the love of a person. The real and unconditional love that exists between a dog mom and her dog. He’s lived a relatively long and happy life that (until recently) knew no pain or misfortune. So I suppose if the time has come for him to go wait for Margaret at the Rainbow Bridge, the happy ending is, in fact, in the story itself after all.

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Battle Bra Royale November 10, 2013

It started with a bra. Then one became three. Three became six. Soon the carnage was all over the bedroom floor. Bras. All over the place. And mom. In tears. Inconsolable tears.

So I did what any dog would do. I grabbed myself one of the bras and swung it around to entice mom into a game of tug of war. Surely that would cheer her up. I was thrilled when she took the bait and grabbed the other end. But that was where the fun stopped. The game didn’t last long at all, mostly because we ripped the bra straight in half. I was about to grab another one and start again, but that’s when the sobbing started.

I suppose it was only a matter of time until Battle Baby Bump Royale reared its head again. Except this time, it was worse. A lot worse. This time, it was my mom versus her bras. And the bras won. That’s right, folks. Battle Bra Royale has now commenced at the Schmidt household. It all started off innocent enough, with mom making a stop at Soma (which what would become the first of many different bra stores) on her way home from that place called work the other day.

Joy became her when she came home with her purchase. But the next morning that game of emotional tug of war began again. The dream bra was no more. It had become a nightmare, digging and rubbing into her in all the wrong places. That’s when the crying started. She soldiered herself off to the place called work anyway, only to return home briefly before heading back again. This is when I tried to console her with my games…and failed miserably.

I think it happened overnight. The impossible became possible. There’s no politically correct way to say this, so I’ll just come out with it. Mom has big boobs. Larger than average, by far. And that was pre-pregnancy. Now? Well, apparently three different stores couldn’t help her. They are that large. But just as any good game of tug of war too must come to an end, I am relieved to report this story has a happy ending.

Two painfully emotional days – and four different stores – later, she finally returned home last night with success. The battle has ended. Mom has emerged victorious in her battle of the bras. And I think there is something to be learned from the battle scars. Sometimes the silliest things play tug of war with our emotions. In the moment, the culprit can be hard to recognize. But we can rise above. We can persevere.

“Life is not easy for any of us. But what of that?” questioned Nobel-prize winning physicist Marie Curie. “We must have perseverance and above all confidence in ourselves. We must believe we are gifted for something and this thing must be attained.”

It started with a bra. But it doesn’t end there. Mom has been gifted with something pretty special. She’s gifted with the miracle of life that is pregnancy. And when she meets that little person in a mere matter of weeks, I know that’s when the battles won’t matter any more. Because that’s when the war really will be won.