Uncertainty, Surprises, Blessings

At the half-way point of our third year of marriage, I was given the wonderful blessing of a new job.  I had been desperately wanting to leave the agency I was with (although not so desperate as to take anything available - my experiences with my first job in Kansas made me extremely picky with my second one). 

I had applied for several positions with Kansas Children's Service League throughout my time in Wichita.  I liked the company foremost because of its mission.  It was the Kansas chapter of Prevent Child Abuse America, and I had interned with the Kentucky chapter in college.  That internship planted the seeds of passion in me to advocate for the best life possible for our children.

I never received a call back from KCSL until the summer of 2009.  I applied for a new position that would be responsible for assisting with a Shaken Baby Syndrome prevention program.  I was invited to interview for this job, and thankfully was able to ultimately accept the position.

While like the first job, my work with KCSL was nothing like I thought it would be, my new job surprised me in mostly wonderful (a few not as wonderful) ways, and had a sizable impact on my life.

I made some of my best "Kansas friends" at KCSL, and deepened both my passion and my knowledge of keeping children safe and strong.  My job evolved into the opportunity to travel to every corner of the state and talk to people about keeping babies safe.  And while I didn't always prefer getting up at 4 am to make a meeting 200 miles from home, I loved getting to visit all the quirky little Kansas towns, meet people in rural parts of the state that reminded me so much of the people I grew up with, and hopefully help a few parents and give a few babies a better start than they would have had otherwise.

Shortly after my job began at KCSL, Johnie and I became aware of the economic downturn our nation had taken.  By that fall, we had friends being cut from companies trying to stay afloat.  Cox, the company Johnie worked for, announced they would be reducing their workforce.  We braced for bad news, and created an emergency budget plan just in case.  But much to our relief, Johnie's job was spared.

It was also that fall when another highlight of my life in Kansas began.  Quite innocently, one of our friends called us one day and invited us over to sing with a few other friends and Johnie's cousins.  Even though I don't sing, I wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to visit.  And what began (from my perception), as just a few friends getting together one weekend, turned into a full-fledged a capella singing group.

Singing with "7" became a mainstay for Johnie.  Sunday evenings were devoted to the group.  And I enjoyed (and enjoy) being the self-proclaimed biggest fan and groupie.  (Anyone else have three different "7" ring tones on their cell phone???  That's what I thought.)

Up until this point, Johnie had been working tirelessly in a side business.  His dream was to be a full-time, self-employed computer programmer.  After taking on some projects that turned into something much different than what he anticipated, he found himself in a situation where he was spending all of his free time at home on his business.  I was feeling increasingly neglected and alone.

Shortly after a weekend of serious discussion about this, and a lesson at church (I honestly can't remember anything about it-just that it impacted Johnie greatly), Johnie made the decision to give up his business.  To completely stop his efforts.

I was relieved and thankful to have time with my husband again, but I still wanted him to achieve his dream of becoming a full-time programmer.  We talked it over that winter and decided that he should take advantage of his tuition reimbursement benefit at work, and begin seriously working on a programming degree. 

Just a few weeks after we began our fourth year of marriage, Johnie began juggling a full-time workload and a full-time school load.  And then a few weeks after that came the call that made my stomach drop.

Instead of recovering, the economy continued to decline.  Companies continued laying off their workers.  Johnie and I continued to worry about his job security.  I was at my own job when I got the call from him.  I could tell from the sound of his voice when he said "hello" that I was about to get some news.  I didn't think it would be good.

"So, Paul called me into his office this morning."

I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath.  We knew this might happen.  We had planned for it.  I silently prepared myself, "We'll be okay.  We'll make it through this." Then, I asked for the news: "Yeah?"

"They're going to make me a programmer.  I'm moving to the IT department!"

My whole body went weak.  I was shocked.  I shared what I thought the news was going to be, and Johnie agreed that he fully expected to hear that he was being laid off when he closed the door to his boss's office. 

The promotion was a complete surprise and wonderful blessing to us.  We celebrated and celebrated.  And kept reminding ourselves it was really real. 

And almost as quickly as the happiness came, it was overshadowed.  Just a few weeks into his new position, there was an investigation into a situation in Johnie's new department that put his job into major jeopardy. 

Seemingly overnight, our prayers of thankfulness turned into prayers of pleading that Johnie's name would be cleared.

After a couple weeks of tense and intimidating investigation, it was, and we were finally able to settle into yet another new era of our life together.  It is still a time that we often talk about with amazement and humility, a time that I hope never loses the awe and (overall) joy it holds for us.

Cancun Trip

It was a boring day at work when I received an exciting phone call from Johnie.  He called to tell me we had just won an all expenses paid trip to Cancun through a bonus program at his job.  He was ecstatic.  I was reluctant.

I didn’t like the dates of the pre-planned trip, and I wasn’t sure I would have chosen the hotel his company picked for us.  I had never really had a desire to visit Mexico, and I didn’t know Spanish.  I also had a secret fear of being detained, of not being allowed back into my home country, like my own twisted version of The Terminal.

I was so complacent about our prize that Johnie actually e-mailed a couple hours later offering to turn down the vacation.  I didn’t want to be the girl who passed up an opportunity to go to Cancun for free, and I didn’t want to spoil Johnie’s fun, so I told him we’d go and began researching the city.  I e-mailed a couple friends who had visited Cancun and began pouring over tourist reviews.

It only took a couple days for my excitement to exceed Johnie’s.  If I was going to go to Cancun, I was going to take full advantage of the opportunity given to me.  I charged myself with planning the absolute best vacation possible.  One lousy meal, one lackluster tourist venue, and I deemed my mission failed.

I estimate that I spent at least 80 (probably closer to 200) hours planning the 5 day trip.  I didn’t have much to do at work, so I devoted myself completely to the Cancun planning project.  Back at home, I would talk to Johnie about costs, reviews, and my thoughts over dinner, and then reevaluate plans throughout the evening.

I decided we definitely had to visit Mayan ruins.  I read more and more reviews, considered more and more packages, and discovered more and more sites.  Many of the packages took all day, had uninteresting (for Johnie, me, or the both of us) side stops, and only included one ruins site.  I ended up ordering a set of maps detailing Mayan ruin sites, and considering factors like accessibility (there were some that you could climb on), safety (some were steep and didn’t have ropes to hang on to), and crowds (Johnie doesn’t like them).

I probably read at least a hundred local restaurant reviews before picking out a couple of must-stop spots for us to enjoy a meal.  I decided our best tourist-marketed excursion would be on some underwater scooters that allowed us to see the coral reef up close.  Think scuba diving without scubaing or diving.  And one night I even stumbled upon a little eco-tourism village where visitors could stay in their own little huts and enjoy crafts, meals, and ceremonies from the locals. 

I felt confident I had planned the perfect vacation for us.  Six days before our flight, while talking to my mom, the subject of the swine flu came up.  I had heard about it on the news.  I had already determined a little flu was not going to ruin my plans.  I reassured her that we had already planned on drinking only bottled water during our trip, were already taking immune building vitamins, and had already packed plenty of hand sanitizer.  I also shared that Johnie and I had decided, after hearing of the flu outbreak, to diligently prohibit others from coughing or sneezing on us.

Secretly I was most worried that flight passengers were being screened for flu-like symptoms before being allowed to board their plane.  I prayed that I would stay healthy enough to make it to Mexican soil.  If I needed to visit a doctor on my return - or be detained in an airport The Terminal-style for a few days - I felt it would be worth it. 

Five days before our trip, Johnie’s company sent an e-mail saying they were evaluating the health risks of traveling to Mexico and how that might impact our plans.  I felt like everyone was completely overreacting to the whole thing and that the e-mail was sent out to calm the fears of germaphobes.  But the next day they announced their decision to cancel the Cancun trip.  I was devastated.

They offered no other details but that they were still deciding the best option for the employees who had won the vacation.  I consoled myself with the hope of a large monetary bonus in lieu of the vacation, or travel vouchers that would allow us to reschedule the trip, or just moving the dates of the trip they had planned for us.

A day later the company informed us they were planning a trip to an alternate location with the same dates as the old trip.  I was a little disappointed to abandon my new-found Mexican dream vacation, but I was increasingly excited about the mystery location.  I was sure that the company would not have bought our passports without taking us to a place to use them.

It was two days before our flight when we learned our destination.  Florida.  I cried a lot.  I had visited Florida before.  I could get in my car and drive there.  I surely didn’t need a passport.  I talked to Johnie about taking the small cash bonus option instead of the trip.  He wasn’t open to that.  While he was disappointed by the Cancun letdown, he was excited for a few days off work in what he was told was a “really nice hotel.”

I’ll hand it to Cox.  It was a really nice hotel.  And they gave us extra perks and bonuses throughout the trip to help.  If we had won this trip to Florida without having a Mexico trip offered and then rescinded, or if I had been given a few weeks to grieve the loss of my plan and the hours I spent creating it, I could have probably written a post twice this long about how amazing the Florida trip was. 

Don't get me wrong, it was a good trip.  We both had a good time.  I am thankful for the vacation, and the opportunity to stay at a hotel way out of my budget. I didn’t have time to really plan, and it was just “stupid old Florida that we could visit anytime,” so I made our new vacation itinerary to include a lot of ocean side relaxing.  That was something I had decided we didn’t really have time for in Cancun.

Other than a bus ride all the way to the Florida Keys from Miami (in my defense I didn’t realize the lighthouse was THAT far away), and an evening excursion to Espanola Way (the closest thing to Mexico the city offered), we spent our time on the beach, on the balcony of our room, or generally lounging with the calming sounds of waves in the background. 

There are plenty of pleasant memories to share from that trip, but sadly they are all marred by the fact they came at the price of a lost trip to Mexico.  And while I think almost everyone else involved in the trip has probably gotten over it, I sadly have not.  Embarrassingly so.

Just the other day (yes, more than two and a half years later), I was thinking about potential 2012 vacations and wondering if we might need a passport.  Then out of nowhere I started tearing up, memories of the missed Cancun trip - and a second canceled Mexico trip (which comes later) - flooding my mind.  

Don't worry, I am comforted by plans for a Mexican vacation someday.  And, while I still hold my pre-trip conviction that we should always take full advantage of every opportunity we are given, I did learn an important lesson through it.  Sometimes there is beauty to be found when things don't go the way we planned for them to.  And, just because you don't get to your destination the way you thought you would doesn't mean you won't get there in the end.

The Year that Nothing Happened

Our courtship, engagement, and first married year were quite eventful.  As we talked about our memories from that time, we actually had to decide what details to leave out of our "story."  Our second year was a little different.  In planning to tell the story of our second year, I had trouble coming up with anything to share.  After several days of trying to remember something interesting from that time, I finally decided to admit to Johnie I was drawing a blank for an entire year of our lives.

We talked about it a few months ago.  “I think I’m just going to say it was the year that nothing happened,” I said.  “Stuff happened.”  Johnie contended.  “Well, like what?”  I asked.  “Our new jobs.”  First year.  “I started singing with Seven.”  Third year.  It went on for several minutes.

“So nothing happened our second year?” Johnie seemed a little worried.  “Well, it’s not like nothing happened.  I mean, it was a good year for us.  I just don’t think we have very many stories from that year.”  After a bit of further discussion, he seemed okay with our lackluster year.

In way of confession, I feel I must admit that our second year may very well go down in history as one of my favorite years of marriage.  The first year was hard in many ways.  We were learning a lot about one another and how to function as a team.  I was terribly homesick and adjusting to life in a completely different place.  I have plenty of happy memories from that time, but just as many that involve tears, depression, and loneliness.  And we’ll get to the other years later.  While I don’t have any second-year stories to set off fits of laughter, I also don’t have any struggles or hardships to share. 

Just typing that makes me feel so blessed.  It is the reason why I cherish our second year.  For that and one other reason: I love routine.  Our second year was routine.  We settled into work schedules.  After Johnie working nearly every Saturday of our first year, we now had our weekends free.  I felt like we were finally normal.  Our first year we guarded our date night as though it was sacred.  Several months into our second year, Johnie asked me one evening why we didn’t do date night anymore.  It was because we had every evening together and usually more than one date a week naturally resulted. 

We received extra income from my job, but no added bills.  It was the most financially stable either of us had ever been.  We were oblivious to the looming recession and didn’t even know to worry that we might ever lose that stability.

We planned long vacations to Kentucky.  And they actually felt like vacations.  Trips home that first year felt like challenges to spend as much time as possible with as many people as possible with no regard for sleep or personal preferences before having to return to Kansas.  We purposely made our second year trips more leisurely.  Dividing the drive into two days, and scheduling side trips during our stay.

My relationships with Kansas friends and family continued to grow and deepen, and I didn't feel as isolated or lonely as I had the first year.  It was the least stressful my life had been since I was a little girl, and my schedule was more laid back than it had been in years.  If I had to describe the year in one word it would be relaxed. 

We had decided when celebrating our first anniversary in Kansas that we would like to celebrate each year in a different state.  Our second year celebration was in Tennessee.  And then we started our third - when things started getting a little more interesting again. 

Job Changes

Our first autumn brought some welcome work-related changes.  After settling into our house in the spring, I decided I wanted to get a job.  I spent my days alone, waiting for Johnie to get home from work.  His 12 hour work days made that difficult.  I didn’t really have very many friends available to spend my days with and I wouldn’t have known how to drive to their houses even if I knew where they lived anyway.

After a long and discouraging job hunt through the summer, I finally landed a part-time job with a local non-profit in October. 

As a side note, I was going to “tell all” about what was easily my worst working experience to date, but I have decided not to air that dirty laundry in public.  However, if anyone would like to hear some unbelievable stories sometime (not in writing), just let me know.  If you're a fan of The Office, some of these completely true stories will sound eerily familiar.

As I was celebrating my own job victories, things were changing for Johnie’s career as well.  He had recently been accepted into Cox’s Leadership Academy.  We were ecstatic for this opportunity, but had no idea how it would change our lives.

Shortly after his classes began, he learned of a newly created position in the company.  The person to fill the opening would act as a liaison between field service technicians and office and engineering staff.  It sounded perfect for Johnie.  With the approval of his director and vice president he applied for the position.  He interviewed and then we waited.

We waited until one day, in between service calls, Johnie’s phone rang.  It was the manager of the new position.  She let him know they had decided to go with someone else, whom he was welcome to shadow, for the new spot.  We were devastated.

Johnie loved his job.  He loved the company he worked for, but he hated several elements of his work.  He was required to work long hours in adverse weather.  Kansas winters, with their bone chilling wind, were especially brutal.  Before we received the bad news, we had both looked forward to winters worked indoors.  With this new development, I began praying that the winter before us would be the last Johnie would have to work outside.

The newly created position was promptly reposted the following week.  The manager had decided to go with someone else.  She just didn’t know who that other person was yet.  Johnie and I were even more disappointed and confused.  He talked with his supervisor about reapplying for the job that sounded so perfect, but was discouraged from doing so. 

The more I thought about it, though, the more I couldn’t let it go.  We studied the job description.  This job was for Johnie.  Obviously the manager had misunderstood his experience and qualifications.  I pushed Johnie to write a letter to her, asking what he could do to meet the requirements for the job, and also spelling out why he (or I) thought he was a perfect fit.

After a bit of reluctance, Johnie sent the letter.  A couple of weeks went by without us hearing anything.  We decided to accept the fact this wasn’t Johnie’s ticket inside the office, and  to prepare for another (hopefully the last) long winter outside.

My first week of my new job arrived.  One of my very first phone calls that week came from Johnie.  He had a question about one of his suits because he had been called in for a second interview for the elusive new office position.  He hadn’t been given much time to prepare.  By the time I made it home that evening, he had been offered – and had accepted – the new position at Cox.

I don’t think we ever learned why they were so hesitant to give him the job in the first place, or if the letter had any bearing on their final decision.  We were grateful for the opportunity, though.  Even today, Johnie will still mention his thankfulness for working inside on cold, rainy, or windy days.  Other times, when we hear dreadful weather forecasts, he’ll express sympathy for those still in field positions.  And this job became more of a blessing than we could have ever imagined.

A Pretty Stinky Birthday...

I was excited to celebrate my first birthday as a wife.  While I was sad to be away from home, my wonderful friends surprised me with a party in Wichita a couple days before my actual birthday.  It was pretty common for us to have dinner with friends on Johnie's days off work.  My birthday week was no exception.  We made plans with friends as usual.  I really thought nothing of it.  On the day we were to go out, however, I wasn't feeling very well.  I thought about calling to reschedule or cancel.  But, not one to really want to miss a chance to hang out with friends, decided to go ahead anyway.

After dinner, we walked over to another friend's house for dessert.  While we had never actually done this before, I again didn't think too much of it.  We had several friends in this neighborhood and we would all get together at various houses and sometimes walk or drive between houses for various reasons during visits. 

At this point things stopped making as much sense to me.  First of all, there were several desserts.  Sometimes our friends are overzealous in their cooking, and they had prepared my favorite dessert (blackberry cobbler) along with others.  I thought this might be because Johnie hates blackberry cobbler, but my friend, Teresa, said, "I hope this is enough" and didn't sound sarcastic.  I told her I definitely thought it would be enough.  She also must have noticed me scrutinizing the chairs that were sitting out.  She had put out extra chairs and there were way more chairs than there were people.  Teresa said that her other daughter and her family would be joining us as well.  We still had too many chairs for even them, but I decided to let the matter drop.

Things became even more strange when I saw Johnie's parents pull up outside.  They knew we were having dinner over there that evening, but it was very strange for them to show up.  Johnie's grandfather had been sick and my stomach dropped.  I was afraid they had come to deliver bad news.  Our friends welcomed them in and everyone began to visit like this was a normal thing.  I thought maybe our friends were just really good at being super friendly to unexpected visitors.  I also thought it pretty strange when my in-laws handed me a birthday card.  I knew my birthday was really soon, but it felt awkward for them to give it to me at our friend's house.

It wasn't until several other friends started arriving a couple minutes later - all with cards and presents - that I realized what was going on.  It was a wonderful and touching surprise.  My first ever surprise party, and it felt like retribution for childhood parties that I would plan and hope for and then cry when none of my friends showed up.  Now I had a whole house full of friends and family celebrating with me in this new place.  All the presents helped, too.  :)

Johnie made plans for the two of us to celebrate on my actual birthdate.  When the day came, I had beautiful flowers delivered to my door, and we had dinner plans that night after Johnie got off work.  Johnie called me that morning, though, to let me know he was coming home early.  That sounds really sweet on the surface, but this wasn't nearly as pleasant a surprise as my party had been. 

He was coming home because he needed a shower.  Johnie was working as a field technician for the cable company which can be a messy job.  He had come home to change and shower on a couple occasions after a particularly muddy call.  I was not looking forward to mud-caked laundry on my birthday.  But a couple minutes into the phone call, I would have gladly taken it.

Johnie was caked in something other than mud.  He had entered a crawlspace that housed a broken sewer line.  I met him at the back door with a water hose.  After a good dousing, he took off his boots outside (those boots never came back in my house) and stepped inside the door where I quickly discarded his clothes. 

This was easily the grossest day of our marriage, and really soiled my day.

Buddy

In April, the Sunday before we were to close on our first home, Johnie and I decided to stop by the local Humane Society just to look.  I don't remember whose idea it was, but I was completely open to looking.  As we passed by the various cages, a variety of cute and sweet animals peered back at us.  One in particular caught my eye.  He was smaller, puppy-ish, and looked to be a yellow lab.  While all the other dogs were barking or jumping, or completely unaware that they were in a competition with one another, scratching themselves at the back of their cage, this dog sat quietly at the front of his kennel.  I had and have an affection for yellow labs anyway.  When I walked by this one, he stuck his paw out as if to reach me and looked up with big brown eyes.  He slowly withdrew his paw as I walked on by.  Thinking it must have been a coincidence, I took a step back to make eye contact with this pup.  He again reached his paw out through the cage.  I knelt and patted it and he laid his head against the cage.  Johnie was now several feet ahead of me, but I called for him.

"Look at this one, Johnie.  He reached out his paw to me."  Johnie came over and examined him, too.  "This one is really sweet.  He's a good dog."  Johnie knelt.  "Do you want to see if we can play with him?"  I was reluctant.  I wasn't really ready to be a dog owner.  There were too many things going on in our life, I didn't want to keep any animal inside our house, and I was unsure if any dog could ever replace my last dog.  He had been a mutt.  A family friend had found him in a ditch as a very small puppy.  I was in middle school, and my grandfather took me to meet him to see if I wanted to keep him.  My family didn't believe me, but I really had no intention of bringing the puppy back home with me.  But, my grandfather carried him out to the car and held him up for me to see.  His big puppy eyes were bright green, the most beautiful dog eyes I have ever seen, and his fur was fuzzy.  I brought him home, and named him Peanut.  He was a great dog and a great companion to both me and my little brother.  He saw me through what were the most awkward years of my life and passed away while I was in college.

I never really wanted another dog after Peanut.  I didn't think there would ever be another dog as good as him, and didn't want to ever love another animal as much as I loved him.  That day at the Humane Society, Johnie and I played with Buddy.  Like I said, I thought he was very sweet, and beautiful, and obedient.  I knew he would make someone a great dog, just not us.  Johnie asked if I wanted to keep him.  I said no.  I went over the list of reasons why we didn't really need a dog.  Johnie pressed.  After a few minutes I gave in.  Apparently Johnie actually did want a dog, and this dog was a great one.  If he was going to have a dog, I would want him to have a dog like this.  We also reasoned that the house we were getting had a fence, so we could easily keep him outside.  We left the Humane Society with Buddy.

Buddy was a great dog from day one, but it was a tenuous relationship between us.  He was cute and sweet, but I wasn't wanting to get close to him.  We had remembered correctly about our new house having a chainlink fence, but had failed to recognize about a foot and a half of missing fence next to the garage.  We bought a tie out for Buddy until we repaired the fence.  But, before the fence could be repaired, we learned that Buddy could jump/climb the chain link anyway.  It would take a privacy fence to keep him contained.  Johnie was ready to build one that summer.  I dug in my heels, thinking it quite ridiculous to spend that much money on something for a dog (though we all would have liked a privacy fence).

We joked with everyone that Buddy was a trial run for us.  I said we knew that if we couldn't take care of a dog, then we couldn't take care of a child.  This was about a month before the "pregancy scare" and I would remember those words when I thought a child was on the way.  Turns out, we could not take care of Buddy.  He broke tie out after tie out.  When we finally found a tie out strong enough (it was for 250 pound dogs, Buddy weighed less than 30), he broke his collar.  We went through a few collars until one finally held.  Then he started pulling up his stakes.  We've never found a system yet that can fully contain him.  We even bought an invisible fence system that he just braced himself for and pushed through the electric shock.  We promptly dismantled it.  We've never had the opportunity to try a privacy fence, but I wouldn't be surprised if he couldn't dig under, climb, or jump over that as well.  Thankfully, we have found products now that do last several months between breaking, and we always know to have back ups on hand for when the new stuff fails.  Also, our little dog-dinni has taken to just staying (or returning) to our yard after freeing himself over the past couple of years.

It took Buddy a few months to grow on me.  I considered him to be Johnie's dog, and all of his escaping wore on my nerves.  It became pretty obvious to us right away that Buddy probably came from an abusive home.  He flinched at any sudden movements or any noise of almost any volume.  He hoarded food instead of eating it (and not in your typical dog burying their food kind of way), and couldn't get enough petting.  (Seriously, he will still sit for hours to be petted, and will choose being petted over food any day.)  I had pity on his situation, but I did not want to keep him.  I looked for people to give him to.  I fought not to get close to him because I knew he was just going to die in a few years anyway.

During a disagreement over whether Buddy was Johnie's dog or my dog a few months after we adopted him, Johnie said that he didn't even want Buddy, but only got him because he could tell I really liked him and wanted him.  I told Johnie that I was being honest when I said I didn't want him.  I could think a dog was cute or good without taking him home with me.  We decided then to search hard to find Buddy a good home. 

Sometimes on Wichita Freecycle, families would post that they were looking for a dog.  We read those carefully and usually decided that we weren't sure enough to give Buddy to those families.  One day, however, a sweet post came through from a family with a couple little boys and a large privacy fenced yard who I thought would be perfect owners for Buddy.  I shared the post with Johnie and he agreed.  I typed up a response to offer our dog to this family.  I wanted them to know all about him, so (you all won't be surprised) the response became lengthy as I recounted how Buddy would greet us happily after work every day, how he was very obedient and would only bark if a stranger came in our yard - or at the occasional cat.  I thought over how good he had been to me since we had brought him home, and I began to cry.  I began to think how sad it would be not to be greeted by his sweet little face.  I went outside and played with him.  I looked once more into those big brown eyes.  I resolved that this other family would be better for him than Johnie and I had been, and decided to send the e-mail. 

The lady e-mailed back and said they had already taken another dog.  We would not be giving Buddy away.  I resolved to be a better mom to him, and we decided to keep him.  My love for him grew immediately.  He became a part of our family.  We began including him in our Christmas cards.  We began letting a few of our rules with him (such as no digging and no going into the laundry room) slide.  We began to appreciate his personality.  For example, he knew that I was more lenient than Johnie about letting him upstairs.  When he came in the house he would always go straight downstairs.  I didn't mind him being upstairs, so I would call him up after a couple minutes if Johnie wasn't home.  After about three times of doing this, Buddy stopped going downstairs altogether if Johnie wasn't home.  I would let him in and he would just sit on the landing as if to say, "we both know you're going to let me come up here, there's really no need for me to go down there now is there?" 

I'm sure there are probably times and ways that Buddy does fool us, but we usually play along when we catch him trying.  He knew he wasn't allowed in the laundry room, but sometimes we would hear him running to the other side of the basement when he heard us get up in the morning and we'd usually find a toy and a fur covered indent in the pile of dirty clothes (or sometimes a laundry basket of clean clothes that we forgot to put on the washer just in case). 

We began taking him with us on vacations.  Johnie didn't like all the dog hair in the car, and chose not to take Buddy with us on some trips I really wanted to take him on.  When we bought our second car one of my criteria was that Johnie had to be okay with Buddy riding in it.  In our latest search for a home here in Kentucky, Johnie and I have found several places that we would be very comfortable in, but have passed them up in search of something more suitable for our dog.

In his (and our) defense, though, he has been a wonderful companion to us.  He has brought us much laughter, and much comfort.  I never feel like he cares what I look like, how I'm dressed, or even whether or not I need to take a shower.  He's always just ecstatic to spend time with me.  While Johnie does struggle with empathy skills, I've often said that Buddy usually knows better how I'm feeling and how to respond than Johnie does.  I am impressed that he never plays as roughly with me as he does with Johnie, as though he understands mom needs a gentler touch.  In times when I'm happy he'll run and jump and play with me, and in times when I'm sad he'll rest his head on me.  He has laid next to me throughout several colds and similar illnesses.  Most impressive to me, he came up to me after I had some dental work done and licked the side of my face that had been worked on, then spent the rest of the day next to me.  Once he was sitting next to me, happily panting and looking around, when I choked on a drink of water.  It wasn't dramatic, just a couple coughs, but he immediately jerked his head toward me and put his face close to mine for several seconds. 

I knew within a couple months that while Buddy looked and acted harmless, he would do whatever he had to do to protect me.  Johnie disagreed, but conceded I was probably right after seeing Buddy interact with strangers.  One day at the park behind our house, Buddy taught me a great lesson when he ran straight up to an unkempt man who I assume was homeless.  The man patted Buddy, and Buddy sat next to him and allowed it.  I would have been afraid to approach the man for several reasons, but Buddy wasn't.  And while none of us really met any of that man's physical needs that day, Buddy left him with a smile on his face.  On another day at the park, a man who I would have counted as respectable came up to me and began petting Buddy.  It wasn't uncommon for others in the park to approach us to visit with our dog.  Buddy loved it, and we were proud to show how sweet, handsome, and obedient our dog was.  He would always sit and wag his tail until the strangers were finished.  But with this man, Buddy's whole body tensed up, he crouched, and his hair stood on end.  The man kept trying to calm Buddy, but when he started growling lowly, I excused us both from the situation.  I am not sure who that man was or why my dog was so defensive near him, but I trusted Buddy's instincts.  We saw that man numerous times in the park, but I always made sure to stay far from him - and Buddy always barked at him just so we were all clear about keeping our distance.

If those instances weren't enough to convince Johnie of our dog's protective nature, the fact that we watched him run a couple burly construction workers out of our backyard (one of which refused to come back even after we came outside and agreed to hold Buddy while he worked) and that we've had other professionals who have come to our house for estimates for various projects tell us they wouldn't go near our dog was enough.  He also knew how to work this system, too, though, and was not unfriendly to all professionals who entered our backyard.  The same meter reader came around every month and he and Buddy got to know each other.  Buddy befriended this man, but was still aware that he got a treat anytime he barked at a "stranger" in our backyard.  He obviously had a bark that could scare, but did not use it with this gentleman.  We have watched on numerous occassions while Buddy would greet this man at the gate wagging his tail.  On a first name basis, the man would usually say, "Hey Buddy," pet him, and they would both walk over to the meter together.  Buddy would always look at the back door as he passed, and if he saw either me or Johnie standing there, he would sit, bark a couple half-barks, accept his treat, and then go back to say goodbye to his friend.  We always let him by on this technicality he discovered.

I realized shortly after I started writing this post that I could probably dedicate an entire blog to my little puppy.  I hope to entwine his story into ours as I continue to document our life together.  One of my fears of dog ownership from that day in April has been realized.  Buddy nestled his way into my heart much like his persistant prodding when he wants to be petted.  So much so that part of me forgot he is a dog, and that his calendar progresses more quickly than ours.  It hit me this summer when Julian began talking about his wedding.  He let me know that Johnie and I were invited.  And Buddy.  I asked him why he was going to allow dogs at his wedding, and he responded that he wasn't, just Buddy.  I laughed and thought of the day 20 plus years from now when Julian would be getting married.  I am pretty sure he would change his mind (or forget) - even about Buddy - by the time this happens.  The jokester in me thought about showing up at the adult Julian's wedding with Buddy by my side.  I would tell this story and everyone would laugh.  Depending on his wife, I thought, I might have to leave Buddy at home and just share the story.  Then I realized that Buddy will probably no longer be with us for this, but only a memory.  I don't know how much longer we have with him and dread the day we must say goodbye, but I look forward to more sweet and funny moments with him in the meantime.

The Tree that Love Grew...

The first Valentine's Day that Johnie and I were married, a huge bouquet of flowers was delivered to my door.  They were gorgeous and after I learned how expensive they were, I can assure you they were a little too beautiful.  It was the biggest and most beautiful bouquet I've ever received though, so I did enjoy them.  There were a variety of flowers arranged in the vase and were so fragrant you could smell them from every room in our tiny little apartment.  I sat them on a corner table in our dining room, and took several pictures of them. 

I left them sitting out far longer than I should have.  They did maintain their integrity for more than a week before starting to decay and wilt, but I couldn't bring myself to throw them away until March.  Even then, I snipped some of the flowers and pressed them in books to save them.  There had been three little curly twigs arranged among the flowers.  Amid all the blooms, I thought they were probably just man-made decorative sticks.  They looked and smelled as though they had been sprayed with something.  As I was cleaning out the vase to pitch the dead arrangement, I noticed these little twigs were growing roots.  Upon inspecting them closer, I noticed there were little buds along each twig.  I kept them alone in the vase with fresh water and made a trip to the florist that had delivered the bouquet.

The florist informed me the twigs were cut from curly willow trees.  She said if they were growing roots, then they could be planted just like any tree.  Upon hearing this, I bought a pot and some soil, and planted the three little twigs.  I named them Larry, Curly, and Moe and sat them out on our deck.  I was amazed that they continued to grow, and the little buds bloomed out to produce leaves. 

When we moved to our house, one of my first orders of business was planting these little trees in our front yard.  I never imagined them to grow very large, so we planted them close together in the middle of our front yard.  They grew like crazy.  By the following summer, they were several feet tall and had become bushy.  After a few more months we discovered they were taller than me, although Johnie pointed out they were still not as tall as him.  The three little twigs melded together and swelled to the size of small trunks.  We couldn't even close our hands around the base of what had become one curly willow.  They passed Johnie in height, and then the roof of our porch and continued to grow. 

One day a man came to our house and struck up a conversation with Johnie about the tree.  He asked to cut some twigs for himself to start some of his own curly willows.  According to him, we had a golden curly willow variety that was uncommon in that part of Kansas.  He said he was going to cultivate them and then sell them.  We aren't sure what that man ever did with the twigs he clipped that day. 

I'm not sure if future owners of our house will continue to let the little tree grow, or if they will cut it down.  I will admit Johnie and I would have probably planted it in a better location had we known how big it would grow.  I am also thankful that we knew how to cultivate more and more little trees by cutting the branches and soaking them in water.  I brought several branches with me on our move to Kentucky and look forward to planting them whereever we go throughout our life.