Part 2: What Happened When We Picked Up Gibbs

Driving back to Charleston from Kenly, NC, with our 39 pound, 11 year old corgi mix at my feet in the passenger seat, to keep him away from the big, yellow lab, was a small feat in itself. I wasn't ready to take the risk to see how they would get along just yet, especially in the car. So, we drove the remaining 4 hours back to Charleston that way, with Marley eventually finding a comfortable way to lay under my feet, and the big dog mostly sleeping in the backseat, with the occasional look over the flat screen TV box we were toting back as part of our Christmas gifts.

When we got home, we coaxed who we were now starting to call 'Gibbs', up the stairs. He lifted his leg only once, because mostly we were watching him like hawks, to see what he would do. He settled down for a bit, and then we decided to try to give him a bath. Gibbs would not have it, and there was no way we could get a dog that big into the tub, so we gave up. We then tried to get him to go back DOWN the stairs, because he seemed like he needed to go for a walk. He was not having it whatsoever. He ran away, he'd lay down on all fours, and simply avoid us to get out of the way. Not even food worked to coax him down. After 10 or so minutes of trying, I told my husband he needed to carry him down the stairs. Carrying down what we learned was 107 pounds of yellow lab was quite the challenge, but he managed to pull it off.

The next day I called the local Kenly, NC, police station and SPCA. Gibbs mostly slept except when we took him to the vet to see if he was micro-chipped. He wasn't. We made the decision that if no one called us to claim him, we needed to take him to get a full examination on Wednesday, since we were unsure if he was sick or had problems, and we also needed to get back on the road to go down to Hilton Head to spend time with my family, so both dogs needed to be boarded for two days.

My cell phone rang on Wednesday morning just before 9am, and I knew from the area code that most likely it was the owners of Gibbs. I picked up and spoke to a man with a heavy southern accent, who said that he believed we had his dog, that the dog lives outside, but has a nice doghouse, and got off his lead from time to time.

His wife looked at my Facebook photos, and verified he was their dog 'Hoss'. I told them that we would be happy to meet them in Florence, South Carolina, which was halfway back to Kenly if they wanted us to. But the gentle man I spoke to asked me if I wanted Gibbs, and said they had 'lots of dogs', and that if we would give him a good home we could keep him. In fact, he said, he was looking for a home for Gibbs about six months ago and no one wanted him. I absolutely wanted him. In the course of a few days I'd already grown very attached to this big lug of a dog, and I had wanted to get another dog anyway, for Marley to have a buddy.

So we took both of the dogs straight to the vet. Gibbs to be checked out and both dogs to be boarded for two nights until we returned from Hilton Head.

According to the vet, they don't believe Gibbs had ever had a bath before. He was covered in fleas and when the vet bathed him blood and a ton of flea dirt washed away. He had also never likely been boarded, so they had to give him a mild sedative to calm him down. We returned today to pick both of the boys up from the vet, and Gibbs' fur was nice and clean, and he no longer smelled. $400 later he's good as new (he had parasites I won't mention here that they had to treat him for). Let's just hope that bill is only once a year.

All in all, I believe we made the right decision, and I am really glad we are keeping him. Although if you had told me a week ago we would soon have a 107 pound dog that we would pick up off the side of the road, I'm sure I would have just said 'yeah right'.

Now to make my list of New Year's resolutions...

When it's 'Time' to do the Right Thing: Part 1

Again I have slacked off, but I can't force myself to write if I have nothing to say. But now I do.

What an interesting week it's been. We went up to northern Virginia for Christmas. The trip is always really long and painful, with my husband flipping the radio stations every few seconds in search of something better. That...and listening to the same episode of Prairie Home Companion twice for 8+ hours is like water torture.

Before we were even 30 minutes out of Charleston, I was looking down at my iphone, because I am addicted to technology, and the car swerved violently, and I looked up startled. I saw a King Charles Spaniel crossing interstate 26. And I have to say I was a little freaked out. Thankfully we watched the dog get to the side of the highway without incident...at least until we were out of sight...

Four hours later, a little more than halfway through the trip, we were cruising along on I-95, when again the car swerved a bit, not quite as much as the time before, and this time, I saw a GERMAN SHEPARD PUPPY in the middle of I-95 as we zipped by at 85 miles per hour. The puppy was probably a little over a year old, and he stood up and sat back down, unsure of what to do as the cars sped past. And what flashed through my mind was that we needed to do something...call the police to come get him...something. And my husband said the police wouldn't do anything. I'm not sure if they would have or not. It was a busy travel day and I'm sure they had their hands full and wouldn't want to catch a dog in the median of 95 with cars speeding past on either side, as the dog would most likely cause a much more major accident, risking people's lives, and not just his own. So we continued on. And the thought of that dog stuck in the middle of I-95 haunted me. I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want to field the question of 'why didn't you do something?' But what was I to do? I told my husband if we saw ONE MORE DOG that needed help we weren't going to drive by again.

The holidays with my husband's family was really nice, as was seeing all of the amazing friends we could fit into the short period of time we were there. We were supposed to get back on the road the day after Christmas, but instead I woke up at 5:30am with the stomach flu, and there was no way I could sit in the car for over 8 hours in the midst of a snow storm with the stomach flu. So we stayed. And I slept during the waves of time my stomach settled, pretty miserable the entire day.

We got back on the road on December 27th, a day late, but the snow was gone, as was the horrible traffic, which made the trip back to South Carolina much easier. And my husband got me 'Water for Elephants' on CD, a book I had read and loved, loved, loved, to listen to on the way back. The time flew by in the car not flipping through the stations.

We didn't stop until we saw a sign for Subway, which happened to be in Kenly, North Carolina.  Oh, but right before we stopped I saw the dead German Sheppard puppy on the left side of 95 at the edge of the median, his eyes closed like he was taking a long nap. I said nothing and my stomach churned with the large amount of guilt I felt for not doing anything the week before.

We went inside Subway and picked up our lunch, and as we were in Subway, people started saying 'whose dog is that?' We went to the window to look out and saw a yellow lab walking around the parking lot. Someone in the shop said 'I saw that dog walking on a leash about an hour ago. I guess the owner left?' We opened the door to get in our car just as the big dog laid down in front of a car that was pulling out of the parking lot.

He just laid there as the car started and then stopped sharply, almost running him over.

I ran over to him with a few other people to try to get him out of the road. He had a collar with no tag, no phone number, and I stood there hemming and hawing a bit over what to do. I told my husband we couldn't leave him there. No one else seemed to be willing to help. So I called the SPCA. They were closed. The only other option was to load him in our packed car and see if someone at the police station would help. They were also closed.

So we decided that we would take him back to Charleston and decide what was best, perhaps taking him to the SPCA there but my own mind was convincing me otherwise as I thought about the consequences if he didn't get picked up by his owners.

- To be continued in Part 2 -

Gifts From the Heart

While my husband is upstairs being sick (this is the first time he's had a fever in a LONG time), I thought this would be a good time to reflect as we coast into Christmas.

Ever since we moved away from DC, my whole outlook on the holiday season has changed.

Last year in North Carolina, well, we did go back up to DC for almost 3 weeks, but I don't remember stepping foot in a mall to do any Christmas shopping.

And this year has been no different. Actually the only difference between this year and last is that last year we could be a 'little' more generous with gifts, and this year (sorry gift exchanging friends), we really aren't able to. This year, gifts are coming from 'the heart' and not from 'the mall'. But the thing is, as I look at our Christmas tree and the emptiness underneath, I'm not really sad about it. We pretty much have everything we need.

I mean, we have a nice small house which I can proudly say I decorated. We have paintings from Argentina on our walls, hand-painted ornaments that I have received from one of my clients every holiday season, a photo book I made for Jon after the honeymoon we took almost two years after our wedding, and my favorite, a mosaic mirror that I received from one of my best friends, Theresa, who was so thoughtful, that she took a piece of wood from my father's house before it was burned down (yes, on purpose), as she knew she would make me something with it one day. And that something is now a mosaic mirror that is hung neatly next to the front door of our house. And it is really, very special to me.



I think about these wonderful things that have been given to me with love by my amazing friends, gifts not from the mall, but that were from the heart, and I'm not so sad about our empty little tree. Yes, we might not have much this year, but we have our morals and our hope that life will continue to get better. And I have to say, though I know I'm not helping the economy this year with holiday shopping, I have felt the 'spirit of the holiday season' much more than I ever have before and I am so thankful for the beauty of the sparkling Christmas tree, and the peace I feel in my heart.

And, I end this not with a Christmas song, but a song that whenever I hear it, stops me in my tracks, because it's just so lovely. Enjoy.

Just Relax: The New Playlist

I've had a lot of nice comments on my 8tracks mixes recently, which I love, so today I decided to create a new one. You may see a theme here: Happy, Love, Relax are all listed in my mix titles. That's no accident.

I hope you enjoy. No phoning it in on this one. This took me forever.

Holiday Magic: Night of 1000 Candles

This weekend, a few good friends and their parents invited us to go to the Night of 1000 Candles showcase at Brookgreen Gardens in Myrtle Beach, SC, just north of Pawley's Island. An hour and a half drive from Charleston to the Gardens, the drive is totally worth it (and, of course, the friends were, too!).



What a magical experience. This was hands down the most spectacular light display I've ever seen. Sprawling the expanse of what once was a historic plantation (Oaks Plantation) were massive 300+ year old oak trees with hanging spanish moss, reflecting pools, and more picturesque statues than you could count, adorned with an artistic lighting showcase of candles, twinkling lights, and Japanese lanterns. Simply amazing... To stay warm you are able to walk around (outdoors only) with coffee, hot chocolate, wine, or beer that is sold before you enter the gardens. A hot drink is recommended to keep those hands warm.

What's Worthy of Being Thankful For

For the past two years, the holidays have been bittersweet for me.

I am a very mushy person, and where I am happiest is surrounded by family and friends. I get that from my dad...well, in the later part of his life when he realized what was most important was family and friends (and not his business), and though for 2/3rds of his life he forgot that part, I think he realized it when it was most important, which gave his kids fond memories as adults, and I forgave him for the years he forgot.

As long as the drive back to DC was (8 1/2 hours) for Thanksgiving, I didn't mind it. Not because my husband drove most of the way because for some reason my driving scares him (I'm an excellent driver...no I'm NOT rain man), but because I really enjoy listening to cheesy holiday music (and am listening right now) and I love catching up with everyone.

I love drinking wine on Thanksgiving...or champagne (which I also can't get enough of...because EVERY day should be a celebration...and every day is worthy of a little champagne), and yes, I love sitting in the 'sewing circle' catching up with the ladies in my family and having them give me crap about my cooking because I'm a horrible cook. The only thing I've ever been really good at is showing up with the booze. Isn't that really the most important thing? ;) Just kidding, but wine IS healthy for the memory and heart, and everyone needs a little boost, in my opinion. So this Thanksgiving was no different, when my mom, who is an amazing cook and who makes pies that cause people to give up their diets, strongly 'hinted' my deviled eggs looked like turds. That's cool. They were delicious. And guess what...she still ate those turds, and at the end of the day, only THREE were left out of TWENTY-FOUR. Best turds you ever had.

But I digress... Why are the holidays bittersweet? Well...when my dad passed away, now two and half years ago, I realized how amazing my friends and family are. And here's where I get mushy and tell you what I'm thankful for. My friends and family. I absolutely love them. All of them. I have never felt so loved and blessed than when they were there for me throughout the hardest time in my life, losing one of my best friends: my father. And the holidays remind me of how special the people in my life truly are because the holidays are when you stop and actually have time to reflect and think about how your life has changed, for better or worse, and to really count your blessings (hopefully) that you have such amazing people that you love and love you.

I'm thankful that I've been welcomed into my husband's family with open arms. I'm thankful that I have friends and family I can call when I'm sad or doubting, because I've always been the kind of person that needs a little reassurance, in every part of my life.

And I may just drive my husband crazy with the following Christmas song because I blast it whenever it comes on and won't let him change the channel, but to be honest, I don't care, because it reminds me of such a wonderful memory: of sitting in a Catholic Church in Jupiter, Florida, with my dad and stepmother on Christmas Eve in 2004, and the voices of what seemed like angels sang 'O Holy Night', and it was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard, and such a wonderful memory that I can always cherish. I hope everyone else was as lucky as me on Thanksgiving, and was surrounded by people they love. XOXO (that's me getting mushy)