Kay Bratt's Blog, page 8
August 22, 2019
Survivor and Symbol of Hope (RIP, Grandpa 4/25/20)
Sometimes things happen for a reason and you don’t know what it is until a little time passes. I believe that the day four-pounds of ragged, toothless, geriatric dog peeked out from a ditch as we were passing by was the beginning of a life lesson for me.
Just a week before Christmas and it was going to be a sad one. I’d canceled all festivities and wanted to wallow. But a little mild-mannered gentleman took my mind off my own problems as I concentrated on his.
It was raining that day and we had a brand new car. My Ben stopped at my insistence but once we got a look and a whiff of what smelled like death on this little pup, he refused to let him in the car. We all know how that would go over. I stood in the rain holding this pitiful critter and told him I’d walk the five miles home.
In the rain.
With the dog.
Sighing in frustration, he let me hold the dog on my lap after promises that I’d only get him medical help and try to find his family for him.
The old fellow sat up in my lap and looked straight ahead as if to say, “Finally. I thought you’d never show up.” He was ready to go.
We arrived home and I fed him, then got him a warm bed and let him settle in for the night. The next day I took him to the veterinarian, who told me that it appeared to be a senior dog, at least 12-14 years old and in horrible health. Barely four pounds, he was tangled, matted, covered in fleas and so very skinny that you could see every rib. His jaw also appeared to be a little sideways, probably an old injury that healed on it’s own, the vet said. (I internally cringed at the thought of maybe him being kicked or abused) Unfortunately he had severe gingivitis and not too many teeth, either. His mouth was full of painful pus pockets that needed to be treated before the teeth could be seen to. The vet said it was obvious that he’d been out on his own for a very long time, which would later show as he passed all the sticks and leaves he’d been eating.
They had to shave him to free him of the tangles and fleas.
The vet asked me how much I wanted to put into his care since he was a stray, very old, and maybe too close to starvation to save. I replied whatever it takes to make him comfortable. They shot him up with antibiotics and told me he probably wouldn’t live long.
During all the handling this little man was quiet and patient, standing there with a proud but hopeful look in his eyes. An expression that said “I know this isn’t easy but I know you want to help me.”
I brought him home. A tiny shell-shocked and eerily quiet little fellow who didn’t even have the strength to bark or climb onto the couch. We called him Grandpa and he ate very well but otherwise slept most of the time, snuggled into the softest and warmest thing I could find, my beloved Pashmina scarf from our trip overseas. I devoted every minute of the holidays to caring for him and as I concentrated on making him feel safe and loved, we got through Christmas. During this time, I posted his photo on every lost dog site I could find so that if someone was out there looking for him, they could be reunited.
We had a lot of possible connections, but none of them panned out to be his real family.
Because we were at full capacity and dealing with a trauma-pup, I tried to fulfill my promise and find him a new home to live out what might only be weeks or months of the rest of his life. We tried two new places but they didn’t work out and I brought him back both times, silently thankful for more time to love on him.
Then he got sick. Very sick with vomiting and bloody diarrhea every day. We spent a lot of time at the clinic until we finally found out he has CIL, an intestinal disease that can be fatal. That began a journey of trying to find a diet he could handle. We tried many things before resorting to home-cooking and finally we hit upon the right combination of cooked meals mixed w/prescription kibble.
I continued to look for the perfect home and Grandpa was changing. With a new, strict diet he was gaining strength and he found his voice again. He also found joy in following around my pups, attaching himself to Riley Radcliffe as his closest buddy and comrade. He began to understand the affection I poured on him was a good thing and he wanted more, always coming to me to be tucked into my sweater for a little nap.
Soon I could see my Ben trying not to show that he was always warming up to our little Grandpa. It was hard not to, as the little guy just oozed friendliness, and forgiveness for the way humans had treated him so far. He began having a great time gallivanting around the yard with Riley, sniffing out critters. We even caught him eating a bird once and we lectured him, and assured him he’d never go hungry again. He made us laugh daily with his bobbing tail and the long tongue that always hung out the side of his mouth. And he was so very eager to please! To belong! We found out that his age was actually a plus because he was much lower key and more affectionate than a younger dog. But we both agreed that we just couldn’t handle another dog, especially one that was so old and would have many needs.
But then Grandpa and I had a moment.
It was more special than all the others put together. I had taken him out into the December cold air one morning to potty and when he was done, he ran back to me. I tucked him into my sweater to bring him in and once inside, I decided to keep him there for a few minutes to warm his skinny bones. We sat down in the rocking chair and he tucked his little head under my chin and burrowed deeper, even closer to my chest. Usually he was fairly stiff, unsure of being dropped or who knows what else. But this time, I felt his body begin to slowly relax. Soon he began a soft little snore and I looked down and saw total contentment on his sleepy face. I realized that I might just be the first human he completely trusts and is willing to let his guard down with.
I melted.
That sweet, love and trust-filled moment was all I needed to convince me that Grandpa had already found his home. And he wants everyone to know that rescuing older dogs is a gift and not a chore. Like him, he knows that the senior pups who have nearly given up hope only need someone to give them a chance. Let them in and they’ll show you that you won’t be rescuing them, because they will rescue you first.
For more stories on rescued dogs and those needing homes, please follow Kay Bratt, Director of Advocacy for Yorkie Rescue of the Carolinas, at her website www.kaybratt.com
Edited to add that after two and half years of devotion, from us to him and him to us, we laid Grandpa to rest on April 29, 2020. Grandpa was a very tiny pup with a huge heart of gold. When we brought in Primrose and Bitsy, mom and daughter fosters, he loved on them. Clara, too, in the short time she was here. And especially our newest Bratt Pack member, Rango. He’s a younger pup with a lot of trauma issues. Grandpa allows Rango to snuggle up to him for naps. When I take Rango to the vet, Grandpa was the first one to check him out upon return, kissing his face with that loopy tongue and telling him it’s okay.. he’s home now.
Honestly, our hearts are broken and empty, grieving for the light he brought to our lives. Thank you to all who have donated in his name to go toward future seniors that find their way to the rescue I work with. It means so much that his death has brought in kindness. For such a lovable soul who never met a person or critter he didn’t like, Grandpa would appreciate that.
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August 16, 2019
Hey Y’all!
Thank you for stopping by my brand-spanking new website. I feel like I’m wearing new clothes and need to show them off so I’m glad you came. Be sure to read the whole post so we can talk about our third life! Going forward, I plan to start most of my rambling from here, so I hope you’ll subscribe to get new stuff delivered right to your mailbox. You can find the *Subscribe to Kay’s Blog* box to the right of this page, or under the posts if you are reading this from your phone. But I’ll warn you right now, I’ve been accused of over-sharing, so we’ll let you be the judge of that.
Okay, not only do I have a new website, but we are getting ready to move into our new house! I’m leaving my life as a Carolina Girl and will now be a Georgia Peach. Our new property is located on the banks of Lake Hartwell and we are fairly sure (please don’t hold me to it) that this is our retirement home. This is the first house we’ve built together and it’s been so much fun picking everything from the initial plans all the way down to the cabinet pulls. Kind of scary, too. You never know if something that feels and looks right in your imagination is going to go over well in real life. However, so far I feel everything is coming together beautifully. With this house, I wanted clean and simple lines. Cozy. I hope in the end, it’s what we accomplish.
The other special thing about this house build is we’ve accepted that we’ve settled into our third life. Have you heard that term? It goes like this, your first life is all about discovery and exploring. You are full of energy and ready to take on the world. Eager to learn new things and try out different self’s to see who you are.
Your second life is when you focus on family and career, with life a roller coaster of setting up and getting through. You’ve little time to explore because you are too busy working, nesting, and/or raising kids.
Our third life is when we are supposed to take the wonder from the first life, and the wisdom we’ve gained from the second, to find more meaningful ways to spend your wandering years. Your focus is more on relationships than things. You have time to do things you’ve always dreamed of, if you can possibly make it happen.
Honestly, we aren’t yet old enough to retire but we feel like we are at the very end of our second life and prepping for our third. We are finally done paying for our children’s college, our nest is empty, and we’ve got more than a handful of grandkids.
Yes, it’s time for us to focus on what we want for the next stage, our third life. This home is in a lake community, where we’ll have our own boat slip and can return to our love of the water. It’s a financial downsize as well, so that we can have more of a travel budget to go back and forth to see our baby girl in Maui until I can talk her into coming home. I want to do more with my work for Yorkie’s of the Carolina’s rescue, and I have a folder of book ideas I want to explore. I also plan to give both our senior pups, Riley Radcliffe and Grandpa, all the affection they can handle for their golden years.
Yes, y’all, this is a bittersweet time. I realize that we are on the downside of life and I continually wonder have I done enough. Enough what? I don’t know. That’s the elusive question I am chasing. But I do know this…
I’ve been blessed with 25 years of love and joy with the man of my dreams. Together we’ve traveled the world, made a difference in the lives of many children, and built relationships from different cultures and places. We’ve led an exciting life, full of adventures. But now I crave quiet. Simplicity. Walks. Boat rides. Yoga. Dog kisses. Lots of reading and more writing, but at a more comfortable pace.
Most of all I crave peace. Yes, I suppose I’m ready for this third life. Or at least I think I am but I guess we’ll all see what I stumble into along the way.
What life stage are you in? And what do you envision for your third life? Have you already begun making plans or are you already there? I’d love for you to comment with what stage you are in and what you have planned for the next stage.
Oh, and before I forget, if you want to get news of events like books on sale, giveaways, etc, be sure to sign up for my newsletter – at the top of every page. The newsletter is different from the blog and sometimes my subscribers at the newsletter get to hear different things than my blog followers. Why? Because I just have so much to say!
I hope you’ll all tag along on this new adventure for us as we ease into our new home and try to focus on living our best life.
Later gators,
Signed,
Kay (author of multiple bestselling books-that-you-should-read, bookworm with-limited-concentration, devoted wife to a-gentle-giant-named-Ben, frazzled mom to two-adult-daughters-who-give-gray-hairs, nana-to-five-little-adorable-humans, pushover dog mom who-works-in-rescue, woman who-wishes-she-did-yoga-and-other-cool-things, over-thinker and over-sharer looking for therapy)
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July 2, 2019
A Chance Meeting with a Lovely Ruby
Yesterday I went for a manicure and pedicure. I don’t go often, but my toenails were looking gnarly so it was long overdue. I’ll admit, I feel a bit guilty sitting up in the spa chair like some kind of princess while someone bends over my feet. I always try to be respectful. I don’t ignore them. I experiment whether they want to talk or not. The last time I went, I heard the life story of a young woman (my technician) who was an undocumented child in Vietnam, and passed from house to house and never felt wanted.
This time, I had a young woman named Ruby. She was pretty and she welcomed conversation. I asked her about the old men that work there, cleaning the foot spas after every customer. I told her I felt guilty that they should be retired but are doing that work. She said they make $100 a day and some of them like working. She began to tell me about how each of the technicians have to put in $6 a day to make up the money paid to the men. She also has to pay for her supplies used. And for every customer she finishes, she has to give 40% of the pay to the spa owner. Taxes are cut out and finally, she gets the remainder. She started throwing out numbers and doing the math so fast I just nodded, unable to keep up.
Her English was great and she opened up to me about her education. She grew up in Vietnam and graduated high school with honors, then went on to get a college degree. She got a job in a Korean business and was doing well. Then a friend of hers introduced her to a man who was in Vietnam looking for a wife.
We’ll call him George.
George has an interesting story as well. He was born in Korea and his mother was a concubine who died giving birth to him. His father died in a tragic accident a few years later. George went to live with different family members, moving house to house and paying his way with proceeds from his paper route. (Who knew Korea has paper routes?) One day George met an American family while he was out about town. They began to talk to him and felt like they were called to help him. Eventually, this family, who already had biological children, adopted him and brought him to America at age 14. They lived in Walhalla, South Carolina.
George grasped the English language quickly and did well in American school. He went on to graduate from Clemson University and landed a job working with the IRS. He married a Caucasian woman and they had three daughters, then divorced a few decades later.
But George wanted a son. So hence his trip to Vietnam to find an appropriate woman.
Ruby said that she had dinner with George and she was very nervous but he seemed like a kind man. She agreed to marry him and he brought her to Georgia. It was a complicated relationship at first because he was 25 years her senior, and only spoke Korean and English.
Ruby only spoke Vietnamese.
She spent her first few years going to school to learn English and watching movie after movie with subtitles, practicing. She was able to grasp speaking and reading quite well, but her comprehension with understanding people talking was slower. She knew she had to do better to get a job in her chosen career.
As the time went by she and George struggled to communicate with English, and Ruby missed her family and her home country. She also missed her career and the independence it gave her.
As she was about to take her third year of ESL, she became pregnant and George was overjoyed. However, he insisted she stay home to protect their unborn child. To her relief, the gave birth to a son and George was over the moon. He wanted his son to have his mother at every moment, so she stayed home with him and put aside her need to learn and to work. They traveled often and the first years were good, though she admitted that she doesn’t really like to travel.
Then Ruby’s father had a heart attack and she was sent back to Vietnam to care for him. Her son stayed in the states with his dad, George. Her father passed away after some weeks and Ruby returned to the states. The time away from George and her son made her realize that she needed something other than being a wife and mother. She decided then that she must work so that she could gain back some independence.
With her English comprehension struggling, she fell into the same job as many of the young women in her community. She became a nail technician.
Ruby said it was easy money and offered her the gift of being independent and having friends to talk to. By this time George was retired and he looked after their son while she worked. Her marriage began to suffer because George didn’t, and still doesn’t, approve of her need to be independent. Also with George’s responsibilities to the (now grown) children of his first marriage, it complicated things even more.
There was much turmoil and Ruby said she moved out. Then back in. Then out again. They continue to have problems but she claims that he is a wonderful father and a good man. Their issues, she says, stems from the large age difference they have and the different mindset that causes.
One day Ruby’s parents came from Vietnam to visit and arrived at the spa she worked at. They expected to see her as a manager but when they came in, Ruby was hovered over some less-than-pleasant feet and when her parents saw what she was doing, they ran outside and cried. Their cherished, intelligent and college-educated daughter had fallen. At least in their eyes.
It was so heart-breaking to hear Ruby tell her story. But she said other than disappointing her parents, she was happy. She asked me what I do and I told her I write novels. She broke out in a huge smile and said “that’s why you are so curious!”
Ruby also told me that she loves to read and has her own library card. She said her son also likes to read. He’s 10 now and quite handsome. (I saw pics) He’s a top student and can speak English and Korean, and is studying French. He plays the piano and the violin, and he and his father travel all over the world.
Our session ended and Ruby thanked me for letting her tell her story. I asked her if I could write about her and she blushed and agreed, then thanked me. She wrote down my name and insisted she was going to look me up at the library. I paid and of course, left her a big tip. (in cash as they prefer) Usually I dread the pedicure process. With my auto-immune it’s painful and with my busy mind, it’s hard to sit still. But this time, because of Ruby, I thoroughly enjoyed my hour there.
If you’ve stayed with me this long, thank you. And next time you stop in for a pedicure, please remember that just like Ruby, the young woman bent over your feet could be just as educated as you, and without a doubt has her own story.
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June 22, 2015
Dear Rachel..... #Adoption #China
Dear Rachel Dolezal: I���m an Adoptive Parent and I���m Entirely Plausible
alamocity.citymomsblog.com
Dear Rachel, I didn���t know who you were until this week. I will sheepishly admit that I���m ���not that into the news.��� If it doesn���t pop into my Facebook feed, I probably don���t know about it. I know that���s a little lame, but I���m a working mom with two boys and I get pulled in���
June 21, 2015
"Hey son, tell the laowai something in English."
"My father is number one!"
--...
"My father is number one!"
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"My father is number one!"
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met them in #Nanning, Guangxi #China
Timeline Photos
"Hey son, tell the laowai something in English."
"My father is number one!"
---
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"My father is number one!"
---
met them in #Nanning, Guangxi [ #CHINA ]
Archived photograph of Shanghai Mercy Hospital for the mentally ill chapel and m...
Timeline Photos
Archived photograph of Shanghai Mercy Hospital for the mentally ill chapel and main entrance. ������������������������������������������������������������ circa 1937.
A Dark Cloud. Yet...a silver lining. #China #Adoption #HalftheSky
A Dark Cloud ��� and a sliver of sunlight | Half the Sky
halfthesky.org
Posted by Jenny Bowen on May 18, 2015When I first visited our four OneSky pilot villages, I saw ��� as I have become accustomed to seeing in new potential work sites ��� mostly the possibilities. The government officials and village leaders were excited about our proposed project and promised to coopera���
From article, 'As netizens in China debate penalties for child trafficking — and...
"... when the bus arrived in the county township of Liangshan, which was classified as a national-level poor county, no mother rushed forward to fetch their infant. No one covered their little darling with hysterical kisses as we had expected. The streets were extremely quiet. The filming and interviews that the cameraman and I had planned came to nothing.
"The infants were settled in two empty rooms at the local martyrs' cemetery so their mothers could come and claim them. We waited outside with our cameras set up hoping to catch images of happy reunions. Yet nothing happened.
"After nearly a day of waiting, the local department of civil affairs posted a notice informing the families who had lost their babies to collect them. Still, nothing.
"Finally, a local told me that I was never going to see a mother come. 'These mothers don't want their babies anymore. These are goods they have sold. Have you ever seen a shopkeeper who has sold his goods feel happy to see them returned?' he said.
"His words shocked us."
Why Babies Are Sold for 1,000 Yuan
english.caixin.com
Breaking up infant-trafficking rings is laudable, but the government must address the poverty that prompts families to sell a child
A small boy trying to be brother, father, provider, and protector.....all in one...
Timeline Photos
Chris Cox
Cambogia
