A Pit Bull Story

The smaller dog is Marble

Recent news reported a horribly sad story. 

The culprit was a Pit Bull Terrier.  The dog snatched a darling little longhaired dog.  It was on a leash exploring along the sidewalk with his master.  The owner of the beloved pet ended up in the hospital.   His puppy didn’t fare as well.  The dog died.

The Pit Bull had snatched the unsuspecting fluffy victim, holding him in his unrelenting jaws viciously shaking his little body with no mercy.  The owner was seriously injured trying to rescue his pet.   He succeeded  - but too late to save the precious animal.

Listening to the story, I held back tears. 

Marble is a Pit Bull that has lived with me these past nine months.   He is a survivor who ambles about with a limp having overcome injuries when as a puppy he was hit by a car.  Marble is old now and quite a sweet dog.

 We’ve always marveled over how he loves to play with stuffed toys.   Marble’s ‘mother’, my daughter, will spend freely seeking a sturdy toy that will not be quickly torn apart by him.  Just last week she brought from Pet Smart, a blue suede item, expressive face, and floppy hat on golden yellow hair, fat body, long arms and longer legs and several internal noisemakers.  Marble was as happy as any little kid with a new toy.  Several minutes later its bright colored form was broken apart, white cotton-like stuffing spread about on the dining room carpet and Marble languished nearby, satisfied.   He has several of these toys, once perfect, now damaged but picked up and played with at various times, when he is so inclined.  I’ve always liked Marble’s playful spirit.

Now, I’m wondering if the Pit Bull at the beginning of this writing, and all Pit Bulls who abruptly harm small fluffy dogs actually call themselves ‘playing’.   Very sad.

Thinking about it, I’ll never again like what Marble does to his new toy.

                               _ _ _ _ _     _ _ _ _ _      _ _ _ _ _

I was once afraid of Marble.  I was many years learning to be in the same room with him.   Now Marble is a good friend.   

You see, several years ago, long before Marble came into my life, a neighbor’s Pit Bull escaped his back yard and bit me.  It was traumatic.  I fell down and broke my wrist.  Yet, I remember the dog had a surprised look in his eyes as he released my arm.  I've thought he didn't mean to do it.

I tell Marble, if he did ‘lose it’ and bite me, the worst thing would be having to tell everyone “Marble bit me”.  I would be ashamed if he betrayed our trusting friendship. 

Can We Please Move On?

The Congress of the United States of America passed the Affordable Care Act.

The President of the United States signed it.

The Supreme Court ruling was in its favor.

After a learned and lengthy campaign with an opponent who vowed his first action after being elected, would be to dismantle the Affordable Care Act, a national election returned President Obama to office.

In our democracy, the people have spoken regarding the federal governments involvement in providing health care.

Now let us please move forward and stop pushing back other critical issues of dire concern to the people of this country.

I’m thinking for one thing  – resolve the debate on Gun Control.

VACATION CALLS

An uncluttered

  

      Happy memory;  

            Breakfast on deck,

                  With everyone

                                  

                        In the family,

                              First day out

                                   Cruising to the Caribbean . .  .  .

(A lovely November morning when I was 

relaxed  -  totally in the moment).

It all came back to me yesterday.  

I think I need a vacation!

                                                   

                                                           

God Answers Prayer in His Own Way

I believe that.  It’s part of my faith.   It’s part of my experience.

Yet this morning I've found myself with guilty thoughts.  I didn’t go to church.

Going to bed last night, my prayer included a brief plea that God get me out to church in the morning.  I knew I would need His help.  It was well past 2 a.m. and my mind and body were exhausted.   

I slept well.   He got me ‘up and on my way’.   I felt good! 

Off I went, downstairs for coffee to sip as I dressed.   Having decided it would be best to take the car out of the garage and park in the front of the driveway, for a speedier get-a-way when I was ready to keep on my way, I retrieved my keys and headed to the back door.

A clap of thunder rolled out of the northwestern sky. 

Although the morning was gray with an extremely solid promise of rain, the thunder surprised me.  Still my footsteps kept going to the door.   Then, I stopped walking.

“It’s going to be stormy.  Leave the car in the garage.  Stay home,” I thought.  

Arguing with myself, I reminded me I had asked God to get me to church in the morning.  I was able.  I should go.  I wanted to go.  Then I had the audacity to question, “why?”   I surely enjoy and find strength in the music and the message of our church services.  But this morning raw honesty forced me to admit I wanted to be in the pew today to evidence my faithfulness to my fellow parishioners.  (It’s the last Summer Sunday Service and I have been absent a bit this summer.)  I’m thinking, perhaps because of my shallow reasoning, God directed my steps to stay home; worship Him in other ways today.   That I am doing.

I still feel guilty.

†  

Interestingly one of the Sunday RECORD's front-page headlines refers to the gun control issue. 

My prayer is for effective compromise revamping gun control laws to keep guns away from those who may inflict mayhem on persons and/or the unsuspecting public.  I believe there is power in prayer.  I pray you will join me in my prayer.

I think, without a doubt, He will answer.