A House Without a Dog is Not a Home

When Rascal, our handsome, Australian Shepard mix of eight years died, he took part of us with him. The grief was so unbearable that I never wanted another dog to wrap my heart around only to have it ripped apart.

But hubby couldn’t stop grieving and I couldn’t stand seeing him suffer. So, for his birthday, we paid a visit to the animal shelter, and there she was, curled up in a big cage on a skimpy blanket on that cold cement floor frightened and all alone.

Hubby fell in love.

I didn’t. She wasn’t Rascal.

So we kept looking.

No Rascal anywhere.

But hubby wasn’t looking for Rascal and kept dragging me back to that pitiful, scrawny, long-legged Greyhound mix curled up in that dreary cage. I guess I’m a sucker for pitiful, so we adopted her.

That was three years ago. Yep! Three years of wanting to wring her neck for chewing up her bed, and my pillows, and my couch; things Rascal NEVER did. Three years of her hyperactive personality, her jumping and jerking around when we tried petting her. Three years of trying to stop comparing her to Rascal.

Then a year ago Pepper came into our lives. Sweet, dainty, loving little Pepper. She was more dead than alive after being abandoned along with fifteen other dogs. She was so skinny I could barely feel her when she jumped on my lap. Then she licked my face, pierced my soul with those big brown eyes, and that did it. We bundled her up and took her home, hoping and praying Bella would approve.

It was love at first sight. Kindred spirits.

Having two dogs at one time in the house is more than challenging. It’s insane! Pepper loves jumping on the table, and countertops. Heck, she just loves jumping! The higher the better. Now Bella thinks she can jump that high, too. And Pepper is a chewer. Bella stopped until Pepper came along. And she was potty trained till Pepper came along. She was getting more settled till Pepper came along. We had to potty train her all over again. And Bella poops and pees like a cow. So yeah. I was tempted to haul them both off to the animal shelter. But, you already know what a sucker I am for pitiful.

In spite of all their frustrating antics, they are beautiful, loving dogs. They love each other and can hardly stand to be apart. And they love us and children and whoever comes to visit. Most of all, they bring us joy and happiness and a ton of laughter. And when I think where they might be today had we not rescued them, I want to cry

Free as a Bird

Birds teach me things about life. They don’t care what their friends think of them, what kind of house they live in, what kind of car they drive, what they wear, or where they send their kids to school. They don’t boast. They don’t preach, judge and condemn. They don’t worry where their next meal is coming from, or where they’ll be this time tomorrow. They love their kids and work tirelessly to care for them. When it’s time for the kids to leave home, momma pushes them out of the nest and teaches them to fly. They sing, they play, they soar through the air with ease. That’s because they don’t burden themselves with the cares of the world, kill themselves to make tons of money, torture themselves because they goofed up, strive to be something they’re not. They are exactly what God created them to be . . . birds.

Home Sweet Home

In my fantasy world, everyone lives in peace. Like a bird, nobody’s staggering home drunk. Nobody’s yelling. Nobody’s beating his wife and kids. Nobody’s crying alone in the dark.

Walk in Truth

Walk in Truth

What happened to our desire to walk in truth? Did we find it too boring? Too impossible? Too old-fashioned? Or has it just fallen along the wayside and trampled by corruption and greed?

For the Birds

A Bird’s Life

Then there’s the cat. Sly and sneaky, always preying on something smaller and weaker than itself. Just like the bullies of the world. Those who prey on women and children, the elderly and the poor. The cat is just being a cat. People should know better.

Sing a New Song

Sing a New Song

I think if a bird were trying to teach us a new song it would go something like this: Smile more, complain less, and love your neighbor as yourself.



Like a bird, we have to make our own paradise. No one can make it for us. All it takes sometimes is to lower our expectations of ourselves and the people around us.



Birds do not welcome just anyone into their home; only those who belong there. We can all benefit from that practice. Anyone who comes into my home and drags me to the pit of despair with all their moaning and groaning is not welcomed back. I can be depressed all by myself, I don’t need anyone’s help.

Home Sweet Home

Home is Sweet

Like a bird, I’m just plain and simple. Maybe that comes with age, I don’t know. All I know is, I have everything I need and I’m satisfied with that. I’m thankful for a warm bed at night, food in my belly, and a computer and TV. Oh, and my dog, Rascal. And of course, my family: my husband, my son and his wife and their four children, daughter-in-law, and grandson. We love one another, laugh and play together, and miss each other when we’re apart. I thank God for such a loving, wholesome relationship.

Maybe in your eyes none of the above has anything to do with birds, but in my heart it has everything to do with birds. They are simple, honest, and free, the way all people are meant to be.