A Quick Update

Having a puppy is like having a big hairy baby that can crawl twice the speed of a normal baby and is 10 times more destructive. I am tied to the house a lot as Cal's bladder lasts about an hour, two at the very max when he hasn't eaten for a while. Considering the investment of time and energy, I would much rather have a baby, but as you know that's not up to us.

That said, as far as puppies go, Cal is pretty good. But, a puppy is a puppy. His saving grace is that he sleeps from 8 p.m. to 7 a.m. every night. He wakes up around 10 or 11 to go out, but then after that it's smooth sailing 'til morning. I just wish he could run around the house without being tied up and not destroy everything in sight. The puppy club leader said that by about 4 months they are usually good enough to let loose. Four months is a long ways away.

The Puppy Truck

Today was P-day--the day our puppy was to arrive on the puppy truck! The kids could hardly wait. But they did have to wait for about half an hour after we got to the drop-off site. Justin made excellent use of the time with some parked paving equipment. Grace was bored and kept asking me when I thought the truck would get there. Spencer was quiet, as usual.

And then it came! Pretty unmistakable with those cute puppies on the side.

Puppy club die-hards waiting to greet the truck even though only Spencer and one other girl were getting puppies this time.

Then they gave us this! Meet Cal (because he's from California). He's 10 weeks old and cute as can be!



So far...he's eaten, explored, peed on the carpet three or four times, peed where he's supposed to three or four times and taken some naps. Now he's asleep in his crate and we'll see just how long his bladder can go at night. Oh, boy.

It's a Boy!

Yeah, I know, you've heard that before. It's not what you're thinking (though I wish it was!). Let me explain...

Look at that smile!

Tonight we got the exciting news that Spencer (with Grace as his assistant) will be the proud puppy raiser of a male black lab for the next year and a half! Spencer, Grace and I have been preparing for a couple of months to become official puppy raisers for Guide Dogs for the Blind. Our pup will be arriving from California around noon on Thursday. His name starts with a C, but we won't know what it is until he gets here. He is about 8 weeks old. The puppy club leader, Traci, had two balloons at tonight's meeting to tell Spencer what type of dog he would be getting. Blue for male with a C on it for the name, and a black balloon for the puppy's color. He also got to choose $15 worth of supplies from the store. He chose a food dish, chew toy, brush and something called Nature's Miracle which is supposed to be the absolute best thing for cleaning up accidents...a product I will hope never to use, but, realistically speaking, I hope only to go through one bottle.

How did this all get started, you might ask? First, you must know that Darrel has been vehemently opposed to owning a dog since before we were dating. He has NEVER liked dogs. Why? Good question. His answer: They're slobbery, noisy, messy, hairy, smelly, and like to jump up on people no matter how much their owners say, laughing with affection, "Get down, now! Stop that!" and then make apologies while still allowing their obnoxious dog to lick and jump all over you. Plus, you have to clean up their doo doo. And all of Darrel's mission companions were bit by dogs. O.K., Darrel, you have a point. But, you really don't want a dog EVER? Even with your own children begging you with puppy-dog eyes? No. NO. NO!! You get the point. I married Darrel, anyway. I could live without cleaning up after a dog, though I did tell Darrel I would probably get one when he left me a widow at a young age since he is so much older than I.

Moving forward to sevenish years ago. I was a Cub Scout Den Leader in charge of a meeting and ended up asking Guide Dogs for the Blind to come do a presentation. Some of their puppy raisers came and talked to the boys and showed what they did with the dogs. Spencer was about 2 at the time. I remember thinking what a great Eagle Scout project raising a Guide Dog puppy would be. I tucked it away in my brain and haven't thought of it for years.

Fast forward to this summer. I was swimming with the kids over at my parents' house. Spencer started to bellyache (for the hundredth time) about how Darrel wouldn't ever let him get a dog. In the course of explaining all of Darrel's very valid reasons, our conversation turned and I found myself telling him about the Guide Dog puppy raising program. I told him how I thought it would be a cool Eagle Scout project....meaning when he was 14 or so...and if Darrel could even be brought to consider such an idea. Mainly, it was just to put him off with the "maybe later" idea. Well, I should have known better. I really should have. But I had to go and open my big mouth.

Spencer latched onto the idea immediately. "Mom, can we look it up on the internet when we get home?" I thought he'd forget, but he didn't. We looked it up and wheels began to turn. Darrel was not happy with me. I tried to explain it was an honest mistake, but whatever it was, the end result was that he was being badgered about getting a dog--the one pet he swore we'd never own. I told Darrel the decision was his. I would support him either way.

After three weeks of deliberating, attending Guide Dog puppy raiser meetings, challenging the kids to keep the family room clean enough that a dog wouldn't be able to chew anything to pieces or eat bits of food that would make it sick, Darrel grudgingly relented. I was amazed, and proud, that Darrel would be willing to put up with a dog for a year so our kids could have the experience. In the few puppy meetings he attended, Darrel could already see how good Spencer is with dogs and how much good it could be for Spencer in return. Grace is also very excited about helping and works well with the pups.

So now we're in for it! Potty training, obedience training, and house manners. Hmmm, this is sounding oddly familiar. Only more hairy. As the kids will be at school most of the day, I get to be the co-raiser. Not exactly what I thought I'd be doing with my spare time this year, but since when do moms really have spare time, anyway? There's not going to be any perfect time to raise a puppy. It might as well be now. Famous last words, I know.

We'll be raising 'C' until he's between 13 and 18 months old. At that time he'll be sent back to the Guide Dog training center in San Rafael California for his formal training. If he graduates from the program, he'll become a working guide dog. If not, he could become a search & rescue dog or other service type dog or simply be adopted as a family pet. About half of the puppies raised don't make it through the formal training and are "career changed". One of the absolute conditions of Darrel's embarking on this adventure with us was that we would not be adopting our dog if he didn't make it through the training. The kids agreed to this, but they weren't entirely convinced. Spencer has asked me a couple of times if I thought Darrel might get to like the dog well enough that he would change his mind. I wouldn't count on it, but stranger things have happened.

Wish us luck!

Milestones

Everyone has them. Events along the path of life that make you stop, take stock and think about where you're going and where you've been. I've reached a few this past month.

This is what Darrel left on the bathroom mirror the morning of our 15th Wedding Anniversary. It was perfect! Why sticky notes, you ask? What sort of anniversary gift is that? You would have to know that some of our very important marital communication over the years has taken place on sticky notes: reminders, love notes, sharing information on who is where and why, and giving encouragement and apologies. They've been indispensable. I could do a testimonial on sticky notes to rival mine on Ziplocs. So I smiled and felt loved when I saw my sticky note heart on the mirror.

Darrel is the sanity in an insane world. He is patient and tolerant. He is strong and protective. With his help and example I have become so much better than I ever would be if left to my own devices. True love transforms people. It motivates me to try harder when I feel like I can't conquer my own personal weaknesses. It helps me see things as they really are. It makes me want to bend when my gut reaction is to be stubborn or selfish. It gives me hope when I am discouraged. Loving and working alongside and building a joyful life with my husband these 15 years has been everything to me.

Another milestone is the year that's passed since we lost a baby boy.

It was another Conference weekend that we were mourning the loss of this baby that was almost ours. Almost. We never get to fully claim with adoption until that baby is home in our arms, which makes mourning the loss difficult. I couldn't gain any comfort in thinking that this baby, though gone, was still part of our eternal family. He belongs to someone else. I never felt that there was someone missing from our family...that THAT baby was supposed to be here and now wasn't. Our family doesn't feel empty. But the experience opened up old wounds made years ago when we found out we'd never have children biologically...wounds I thought were healed. Oh, the vast unfairness of it all! It drives me nuts if I let it. I went back to being angry at God. After all, if He could make it possible for us to have children and wasn't doing it, even through adoption, then He was the one ultimately responsible for the misery I was feeling. I knew differently, deep down, but I have to learn the same lessons over and over again.

I've learned this year that that's the way life goes. You lose, you grieve, you heal and learn to trust again that God does still love you and then it cycles back again with all the losses that life brings. There is a strength and a depth people gain from loss and difficulty, though. A deeper caring and sympathy for others facing their own life's struggles. You learn that you can go on after tragedy...you have to. There's no choice, life does and must go on whether you lose a child, a spouse, a friend or a dream. I am surrounded by amazing, strong people that have lived beyond the loss and still trust that a loving Father in Heaven is holding us in the palm of His hand, even when it doesn't feel that way.

I've learned to keep doing the right things--to cling to them even if I don't "feel" it because somewhere in me, I know that the storms will pass and I will get back to knowing and trusting and loving and feeling loved again. I learned to love the hymn "How Firm a Foundation". I can't hear it or sing it without getting teary. If you haven't read the words very closely before you should, and read all the verses.

I learned about hope in a way I never had before. Hope that goes beyond just wishing for something. Real hope that is "expectation based on experience". Hope that keeps you moving forward in the darkness because you trust that eventually there will be light. There was an excellent article in the Ensign magazine about hope which helped me understand it better than I ever have before. I copied this poem from that article and stuck it (where else) on my fridge so I can see it daily.

Walking with Two Sisters

by Larry Hiller

Faith walks before me,

Holding up her lamp

As I try not to stumble in the ink-

dark hours before the dawn.

Her light illuminates

One step and then another.

Beside me, Hope, arm linked

with mine, encourages and

steadies.

Sometimes in the tedium,

Distracted by the pain,

My mind begins to wander, then

my feet. I hesitate.

Unsure, I look to Hope.

Her hand takes mine.

The touch reminds me of another

hand held out to mine.

One pierced and scarred

Yet oh so tender

Lifting me and blessing me when

I had fallen and despaired.

Remembering,

I move ahead

Buoyed up by Hope, who sees

the end with perfect clarity.

Hope, my wonderful husband, a loving Heavenly Father and sheer tenacity have helped me weather the particular storm that has been this past few years, and especially this year--a year with an amazingly difficult church calling, subsequent adoption situations that didn't come to fruition, and all the regular hubbub that comes with raising a family. I could go into great detail on each of these, but suffice it to say, we are making it with all the important things intact. (I loved Elder Uchtdorf's talk yesterday, by the way,--it went right along with this.)

So this takes me back to Darrel. When we set out in life as newlyweds, we didn't--we couldn't--possibly know what we would face ahead of us. We had dated and learned as much as we could about each other and made a decision based on what we felt was right, and had faith that it was the very best we could do. We still couldn't know how each of us would react to every difficulty in our life. But when we get to them and hold hands, bracing against the storms and make it out on the other side, I find an even deeper appreciation for Darrel's gifts and strengths that allow me to lean on him for a while and catch my breath before moving forward. I love you, Darrel! And I love our life together!