Marsha Roberts's Blog: Anything That Suits My Fancy Blog!, page 3

No! Not Barbie!

Thank God it’s Boomer Lit Friday! Here’s another snippet from

I hope you take the opportunity to Blog Hop over to other Boomer Lit authors. On the link below you’ll find excerpts from some wonderful writers!

From Chapter 5: Barbie and the In-Crowd

Not to forget the seminal moment of my young girlhood, the Christmas when Barbie was all the rage, ’59 or ’60 I think, and I had asked Santa for a race car set.  When I opened my main present and it was a Barbie, I burst out crying!  How could Santa do this to me?  I was very clear on the subject of what I wanted for Christmas when I sat on his lap and when I wrote him a letter.  How could he possibly mess it up this badly?  And here I was on the best day of the whole year and I couldn’t stop crying. Dad was in a panic, he thought every little girl wanted a Barbie. 

He called his friend who owned a toy store (this is on Christmas Day, mind you) and begged him to open up just long enough for him to get a race car set for his daughter or her heart would be permanently broken! He returned with the present Santa had “accidentally left outside.” 

I was ecstatic!  There it was — the race car set of my dreams!  Deep down I had known that somehow Santa would come through in the end!  I joyfully set it up and promptly tied Barbie to the track.  It was a beautiful sight to see the cars crash over Barbie — the perfectly skinny plastic girl I would never in a lifetime resemble.  Die Barbie!

Clearly this little girl who saw herself as the conquering hero, fantasized that she would travel to the ends of the earth and delighted in destroying Barbie was not destined to be anyone’s version of Suzie Homemaker.

 

O.K. Let me hear it! Surely someone else had a defining moment with Barbie – now’s the time to fess up! Find out what happens to this boomer who killed her Barbie in “Confessions of an Instinctively Mutinous Baby Boomer.” My book is available as an ebook or in print from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords and others. Direct links are on my website:

http://www.mutinousbabyboomer.com/

And to celebrate the fact that my book is currently the Goodreads Boomer Lit Group’s Monthly Read, the Kindle version is specially priced at $.99 through Sunday, March 24th. That link is: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007H0RS60

Do yourself a favor and take a few minutes to hop over to another Boomer Lit Author:

http://boomerlitfriday.blogspot.com/

CHEERS!

Stepping Stones in the Fog

Once again, I’m very happy to be a part of Boomer Lit Friday! I hope you enjoy my next excerpt from

From Chapter 32:

I’m sitting in the fog.  Literally.  I’m on top of a mountain, completely socked-in with fog, writing at a picnic table.  And it’s raining.  Fortunately it’s a covered picnic table.

I don’t know when the rain will stop.  But I know it will.

I don’t know when the fog will lift.  But I know it will.

I don’t know when the sun will come out and the skies will be blue again.  But I know it will happen.

I can’t do a thing about any of these things.  The rain, the fog, the sunshine and the blue skies are all in God’s hands.  And so am I.

Have you ever felt like that? I would love to hear your thoughts. My book is available as an ebook or in print from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords and others. Direct links are on the Mutinous Baby Boomer website:

http://www.mutinousbabyboomer.com/

Take a few minutes and hop on over to another Boomer Lit Author at:

http://boomerlitfriday.blogspot.com/

 CHEERS!

The Twinkie In My Eye!

Last week was our first Boomer Lit Friday and the title of my Blog was “The Twinkle In My Eye!” I had several people comment that they thought the title was TWINKIE in my eye, which was so ridiculous that I decided to use “Twinkie” in this post, although it has absolutely nothing to do with my subject!

We are now on the 2nd Boomer Lit Friday Blog Hop & here is the next sample of

My theory was, if there was a parable in a tomato plant, perhaps there were other parables from my life that I hadn’t noticed before, waiting for me to discover the enchanting nugget buried inside. Maybe what I was looking for would be hidden in one of those nuggets.

Life had it’s challenges and disappointments when I was young too, but I had managed to keep my essence intact, my own personal magic. Had it simply been youth, or was this life-force still available now? I didn’t know, but I had to find that stubborn, indomitable, fearless gal I had once been. I missed her and I needed to know her secret formula for keeping her verve day after day, year after year.

Had it simply been youth? IS that life-force still available now? Find out! This book is available as an ebook or in print from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords and others. Direct link are on the Mutinous Baby Boomer website:

http://www.mutinousbabyboomer.com/

Now that you’ve heard what I’ve got to say, hop on over to another Boomer Lit Author and enjoy their take on things at:

http://boomerlitfriday.blogspot.com/

CHEERS!

 

 

 

 

 

The Twinkle In My Eye!

To kick off the 1st Boomer Lit Friday, here's a little taste of
Confessions of an Instinctively Mutinous Baby Boomer
and her Parable of the Tomato Plant
by Marsha Roberts (AKA MutinousBoomer!)


Without consciously knowing it, I had taken a wrong turn in the road. And because I’m a certified road warrior who has logged over a million miles both here and abroad, if I happen to take a wrong turn, I know it almost immediately. But this time I wasn’t driving and I didn’t have a clue how I had gotten so far off course. And that’s exactly what I needed: a clue.

All I knew was that somewhere underneath the exasperating minutia of my frazzled daily life was the twinkle in my eye, the sass in my walk and the dreams in my heart. I didn’t know when I had lost them, but I had, and I missed them with an urgency that caught me off guard. It was like catching a whiff of childhood, instantly poignant. I longed for the magic.

The question was, how would I find these precious things again? Where do you go to look for a twinkle?


Well, where DO you go to look for a twinkle? Find out! This book is available as an ebook or in print from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords and others on the Mutinous Baby Boomer website:
http://www.mutinousbabyboomer.com/

The Twinkle In My Eye!

To kick off the 1st Boomer Lit Friday, here’s a little taste of

Without consciously knowing it, I had taken a wrong turn in the road. And because I’m a certified road warrior who has logged over a million miles both here and abroad, if I happen to take a wrong turn, I know it almost immediately. But this time I wasn’t driving and I didn’t have a clue how I had gotten so far off course. And that’s exactly what I needed:  a clue.

All I knew was that somewhere underneath the exasperating minutia of my frazzled daily life was the twinkle in my eye, the sass in my walk and the dreams in my heart. I didn’t know when I had lost them, but I had, and I missed them with an urgency that caught me off guard. It was like catching a whiff of childhood, instantly poignant. I longed for the magic. The question was, how would I find these precious things again?  Where do you go to look for a twinkle?



 

Well, where DO you go to look for a twinkle? Find out! This book is available as an ebook or in print from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords and others. Direct links are on the Mutinous Baby Boomer website:

http://www.mutinousbabyboomer.com/

 

The Tiny Wizard Miracle – or is it? You decide!

Have you ever thought something so random that it occurred to you an angel might be whispering in your ear? Ever felt the hair stand up on the back of your neck and thought something special was about to happen? Did you wonder what it meant and try to listen or did you just brush it away?

Well, for me, I’ve been trying to figure out how to listen better. Whether it’s angels or what, I know we are given clues about the right path to take. When I’ve ignored those clues, I’ve always regretted it. But whenever I listen to them, better yet, acted on them, it’s always worked out for the best. And sometimes it’s worked out astonishingly well! In little ways and in big ones.

Case in point. This is a little one, mind you, but it reminded me in no uncertain terms to PAY ATTENTION!

Several months ago we moved to a house with lots more room, so I was able to get many things out of storage and in the process had the extremely fun experience of discovering treasures I hadn’t seen in years. For once I had the luxury of a little time in the move and I could sort through all the boxes to see which of my prized possessions would be a part of my life again, what would be thrown or given away and what would go back into a box for another time.

When that job was done I realized I was missing one cherished piece: a tiny 2″ tall pewter figurine of a wizard holding a small crystal in his left hand and a staff in his right. He had not been in storage over the years; for more than 25 years he had been on my mantle wherever we lived. He had been a gift and was symbolic of many things – I loved that little wizard. But now, after sorting through every single box, I had no idea where he was.

One morning about two months after the move, I was reading an inspirational book to get my mind focused on the day’s tasks. It was an early one by Wayne Dyer. I was at the end of the book and he was talking about how important a spirit of generosity is in finding your own spiritual path to manifesting your dreams and desires in life. It suddenly (randomly!) occurred to me I needed to write down the address of a woman I had recently been put in touch with. She is very active in helping the military, and I had a huge batch of letters I needed to send to her that I had collected for American troops stationed overseas. She had the contacts to get the letters in the hands of our soldiers.

OK, now pay attention (which is what I was being told to do!). This was something good I was supposed to do. I wasn’t thinking about it at all, but it was put on my mind while I was reading about “a spirit of generosity” and I didn’t think a thing about it at the time, except to find her email before it got buried in the mass of contacts I had recently made. I didn’t think about it having to do anything with what I had just read. I just acted when I felt the urge. I found the email and as I was printing out her address I thought I should go ahead and weigh the letters to see how much it was going to cost to ship them, so I could plan for the expense.

I had put the boxes on the shelf in my office closet. They were so heavy that I didn’t want to haul them into another room to weigh them on a table like I normally would. I just wanted to do the quickest, easiest thing and plop them in front of the closet. So I placed the scale on the floor and pulled a couple of big boxes down on top of the scale. The thing is, the boxes were so large that I couldn’t see the reading on the scale. I had to get down on the floor, with my face laying on the ground to see what the weight was. I turned my head to the side to get around the bulk of the boxes and what did I see on the floor behind the closet door? My beloved Wizard!

He was in such an odd, hidden spot, I don’t think I would have ever have seen him if I hadn’t done this specific action, with my head on the ground, turned sideways – the action that some sort of instinct had lead me to.

I happily greeted him back into the fold, checked to see how much it was going to be to send 50 pounds of letters and went back to my reading, with my little Wizard now on my desk. I had finished that first book, but wanted to continue reading that morning, so I started a more recent book by Dyer, “The Power of Intention.” Right up front in Chapter 1 it says, quoting Carlos Castaneda, “Intent is a force that exists in the universe. When sorcerers (those who live of the Source) beckon intent, it comes to them and sets up the path for attainment, which means that sorcerers almost always accomplish what they set out to do.”

I was taken aback by the reference to the sorcerer when I had just found my Wizard! Clearly some sort of communication or connection was happening! Several pages later… “Activating intention means rejoining your Source and becoming a modern-day sorcerer. Being a sorcerer means attaining the level of awareness where previously inconceivable things are available.”

First off, thank you, once again, Wayne Dyer for sharing your incredible insight and wisdom with us. And secondly, OK, I’m really paying attention now! This was no coincidence. Call it angels whispering in my ear, call it the continuing but often unrecognized miracles that are happening all the time, all around us, but when I listened, acted on what I “heard” it was then confirmed to me that the whole process of PAYING ATTENTION is not only valid, but can change our lives if we let it!

To remind you, this blog is based on three premises:

- Angels are real.

- You can live as if everything is a miracle.

- And there is a good reason that “dog” is God spelled backwards.

I think I covered angels and miracles here, but what about dogs? Well, my ever curious shaggy-haired sort of a little black lab named Shadow, was on the floor with me, his nose on the ground, looking to see what in the world was Mom doing? Keeping me grounded to reality and that life is ever so much fun are always my dogs. Shadow is one of The Dogs I’ve Loved – the subject of my next blog.

May all those who read this be blessed with joy and the awareness of all the miraculous things happening around you every moment of every day!

Marsha

Marsha Roberts

Author of “Confessions of an Instinctively Mutinous Baby Boomer”

http://www.mutinousbabyboomer.com/

The Tiny Wizard Miracle - or is it? You decide!

Have you ever thought something so random that it occurred to you an angel might be whispering in your ear? Ever felt the hair stand up on the back of your neck and thought something special was about to happen? Did you wonder what it meant and try to listen or did you just brush it away?

Well, for me, I've been trying to figure out how to listen better. Whether it's angels or what, I know we are given clues about the right path to take. When I've ignored those clues, I've always regretted it. But whenever I listen to them, better yet, acted on them, it's always worked out for the best. And sometimes it's worked out astonishingly well! In little ways and in big ones.

Case in point. This is a little one, mind you, but it reminded me in no uncertain terms to PAY ATTENTION!

Several months ago we moved to a house with lots more room, so I was able to get many things out of storage and in the process had the extremely fun experience of discovering treasures I hadn't seen in years. For once I had the luxury of a little time in the move and I could sort through all the boxes to see which of my prized possessions would be a part of my life again, what would be thrown or given away and what would go back into a box for another time.

When that job was done I realized I was missing one cherished piece: a tiny 2" tall pewter figurine of a wizard holding a small crystal in his left hand and a staff in his right. He had not been in storage over the years; for more than 25 years he had been on my mantle wherever we lived. He had been a gift and was symbolic of many things - I loved that little wizard. But now, after sorting through every single box, I had no idea where he was.

One morning about two months after the move, I was reading an inspirational book to get my mind focused on the day's tasks. It was an early one by Wayne Dyer. I was at the end of the book and he was talking about how important a spirit of generosity is in finding your own spiritual path to manifesting your dreams and desires in life. It suddenly (randomly!) occurred to me I needed to write down the address of a woman I had recently been put in touch with. She is very active in helping the military, and I had a huge batch of letters I needed to send to her that I had collected for American troops stationed overseas. She had the contacts to get the letters in the hands of our soldiers.

OK, now pay attention (which is what I was being told to do!). This was something good I was supposed to do. I wasn't thinking about it at all, but it was put on my mind while I was reading about "a spirit of generosity" and I didn't think a thing about it at the time, except to find her email before it got buried in the mass of contacts I had recently made. I didn't think about it having to do anything with what I had just read. I just acted when I felt the urge. I found the email and as I was printing out her address I thought I should go ahead and weigh the letters to see how much it was going to cost to ship them, so I could plan for the expense.

I had put the boxes on the shelf of my office closet. They were so heavy that I didn't want to haul them into another room to weigh them on a table like I normally would. I just wanted to do the quickest, easiest thing and plop them in front of the closet. So I placed the scale on the floor and pulled a couple of big boxes down on top of the scale. The thing is, the boxes were so large that I couldn't see the reading on the scale. I had to get down on the floor, with my face laying on the ground to see what the weight was. I turned my head to the side to get around the bulk of the boxes and what did I see on the floor behind the closet door? My beloved Wizard!

He was in such an odd, hidden spot, I don't think I would have ever have seen him if I hadn't done this specific action, with my head on the ground, turned sideways - the action that some sort of instinct had lead me to.

I happily greeted him back into the fold, checked to see how much it was going to be to send 50 pounds of letters and went back to my reading, with my little Wizard now on my desk. I had finished that first book, but wanted to continue reading that morning, so I started a more recent book by Dyer, "The Power of Intention." Right up front in Chapter 1 it says, quoting Carlos Castaneda, "Intent is a force that exists in the universe. When sorcerers (those who live of the Source) beckon intent, it comes to them and sets up the path for attainment, which means that sorcerers almost always accomplish what they set out to do."

I was taken aback by the reference to the sorcerer when I had just found my Wizard! Clearly some sort of communication or connection was happening! Several pages later… "Activating intention means rejoining your Source and becoming a modern-day sorcerer. Being a sorcerer means attaining the level of awareness where previously inconceivable things are available."

First off, thank you, once again, Wayne Dyer for sharing your incredible insight and wisdom with us. And secondly, OK, I'm really paying attention now! This was no coincidence. Call it angels whispering in my ear, call it the continuing but often unrecognized miracles that are happening all the time, all around us. But when I listened and acted on what I "heard" it was then confirmed to me that the whole process of PAYING ATTENTION is not only valid, but can change our lives if we let it!

To remind you, this blog is based on three premises:
- Angels are real.
- You can live as if everything is a miracle.
- And there is a good reason that "dog" is God spelled backwards.

I think I covered angels and miracles here, but what about dogs? Well, my ever curious shaggy-haired sort of a little black lab named Shadow was on the floor with me, his nose next to mine, looking to see what in the world was Mom up to? What was she doing?

Dogs somehow keep me grounded and remind me everyday that life can be quite silly and ever so much fun! Shadow is one of The Dogs I've Loved - the subject of my next blog.

May all those who read this be blessed with joy and the awareness of all the miraculous things happening around you every moment of every day!

Marsha

Marsha Roberts
Author of "Confessions of an Instinctively Mutinous Baby Boomer"
http://www.mutinousbabyboomer.com/

Confessions of an Instinctively Mutinous Baby Boomer

Angels, Miracles and Dogs: The Thanksgiving Dog

Now that the big Thanksgiving push is over and before everyone is totally focused on Christmas, I wanted to share a true story that’s full of improbabilities (that I call miracles!), coincidences (that I believe are staged by angels!) and, of course – dogs!

My son Matt and his incredible wife Amber are unquestionably “Dog People.” They have two rambunctiously adorable canines named Precious and Depaula and would love to have a third one if they could find the right fit with their eccentric crew. Well, Depaula isn’t terribly eccentric, but Precious defines the word!

I’ll never forget the first time I met Precious. Matt and Amber had just bought her a few days before and they were bringing their new Boxer puppy over to meet us and our two dogs, Smokey and Shadow. I have to say that had not been a huge fan of Boxers. I tend to like dog faces that are hound-shaped, not squished! (sorry to all of you Boxer and Bulldog fans, but that’s what it looks like to me…) But Precious is something else all together and changed my view of Boxers forever. The thing is, she is just so female! In spite of her muscular build and her tongue that’s so long she can hardly fit the whole thing in her mouth, she exudes femininity! She even bats her eyelashes and, as Amber imitates her, like she’s saying, “But, I’m PRECIOUS! I’m beautiful! You just have to love me!”

However, that first meeting with Smokey was a no-go, nothing doing, you are not winning me over encounter. Maybe it was because Smokey had originally been Matt’s dog who eventually became “The Family Dog” and so he stayed put when Matt moved out – so perhaps there was a little jealousy there. Regardless, he was not impressed with Precious and she was devastated.

Smokey is a short-legged, floppy-eared German Shepherd-and-something-else mix and all male. Precious did everything except stand on her head to get Smokey to like her. She flirted and when that didn’t work, she humbled herself and batted those big eyes at Smokey. His answer was to plop down on the floor with a disgusted Harrumph! Finally, when it was completely clear she was not going to get an ounce of affection from Smokey, she sat up proudly with her back to him and stuck her bottom lip out and pouted like a five-year-old princess, glancing at Smokey occasionally as if to say, “How can you do this to me? I’m Precious!” It was hysterical to see this puppy with her bottom lip out, pouting!

And that just begins to describe how eccentric Precious is. You’d swear she sees ghosts, she’ll go after a flash of light on a wall as if it were a critter that must be destroyed and no matter who is in the room, she is the most dominating personality and always the most energetic! Depaula is her partner-in-crime. Being a Pit mix, he’s a little larger than Precious, but he’s a gentle soul who seems to have been born to keep her company and calm her excited spirit down a bit. They are big buds.

Understanding the nature of Precious and Depaula is important if you’re going to be able to visualize the events surrounding The Thanksgiving Dog.

It all started at about 4:00 am the Tuesday morning before Thanksgiving. Matt is a musician and a writer, so he’s always kept odd hours. He had just gotten up and was going to let the dogs out. They live in a quaint townhouse with a front stoop and small fenced-in yard. The gate is always closed.

When he opened the front door there was a surprise waiting for him on the stoop: a large, unfamiliar dog laying there, shivering from the cold. He had the body shape of a Pit Bull and the coloring of a Dalmatian – one of his black spots went around his left eye, giving him a distinctive look. No way Matt was going to leave a dog out in the cold, so he brought him into the warmth and got him food and water. The Dynamic Duo of Precious and Depaula seemed to recognize the plight of a fellow pooch and didn’t argue the point.

It wasn’t long before Amber was up and they decided to take him over to the vet so the Stoop Dog could get scanned for a microchip to try and find his family. He didn’t have on a collar, but was clean and groomed and appeared to be so very well cared for that they thought he would probably be chipped. He wasn’t. So they took him in.

The three dogs dominated the living room as they worked at getting to know each other that day, but Matt got a kick out of it and thought they might be able to keep the Stoop Dog if they couldn’t find his family. Later, when he let the three-some out into the front yard to do their business, the new dog suddenly got excited about something and jumped the fence. This isn’t an easy thing to do because of the height, but he was strong and made it appear effortless. Matt figured he just wanted to try and find his home, so he let him go.

Ten minutes later, the big guy was back on their stoop again! At that point it was clear they had been “chosen” by this dog for some reason and decided it was the right thing to put up fliers and try and find his family.

During the day, Matt wrote us about what was going on, telling us what a “sweet guy” the Stoop Dog was and that the three of them got along pretty well, considering his sudden arrival! But, after awhile, Matt said the new dog seemed to get sad, laying his head down on Matt’s leg, looking up at him like he was waiting for something. I’ll let Matt (from his email) tell the story from here:

“So Amber came home a bit early from work and we decided to take him to the local shelter, even though we really didn’t want to leave him there. We just figured he’d have the best chance of finding his family at the local shelter. I mean, that’s where I would first go if we lost one of ours. Anyway, we get in the shelter (a really nice one, in our county) and tell them we found this dog, and the woman goes “Well look who it is. You two just made someone’s day. His owner was in here this morning crying her eyes out because she’d been looking for him all night.” Sure enough, she pulled out the pictures that the woman had left and it was the very same dog. They put us in contact with her, and when Amber called and told her we found her dog and kept him safe all day, she about lost her mind crying and thanking us. She left work right then and came to our house to get him. They were so happy to see each other. The dog (his name turned out to be Rico) just started wiggling and dog-dancing as soon as he saw her. She thanked us profusely…“

Now Matt and Amber would no doubt tell the story differently, they experienced it themselves. But, witnessing this wonderful story unfold from a distance, it seemed very magical to me. As Matt told me, Rico specifically came to their house three different times, once when he found him on the stoop and twice when he saw something and jumped the fence. But he came back each time, as Matt said, “like he knew he had to be here for a reason or something.”

Matt isn’t one who believes in miracles and angels like his mom, but since I’ve decided to “live as if everything is a miracle,” this is my interpretation of the events. Rico’s instinct obviously told him to go to that house, sit on that stoop and that’s where he would find help. What is instinct? In my world it is either an angel whispering in your ear or miraculous forces making your next step abundantly clear. Either way, a miracle.

You could say that Matt and Amber taking Rico to that particular shelter was logical. Which is true. And you could say that Rico’s owner was doing the logical thing by bringing photos of the dog to that particular shelter to see if anyone had found him. And, that would also be true. But, when you add up the number of “coincidences” and place them side-by-side with all of the coinciding instincts to do the “logical” thing and mix them with the deep desire that everyone involved had to do the right thing, the loving thing – I think all of that energy is very powerful. I believe that kind of positive, full-of-love energy (from the people and the dogs!) brings into play an even more powerful force. I call it God, you may call it The Universe, but for me, it all results in a miracle.

Because that’s what a miracle is to me – love in action – in big ways and in small, everyday things. It’s all around us, all the time.

That’s it for The Thanksgiving Dog. Everyone was reunited just in time for Thanksgiving. And Precious and Depaula didn’t have to share their mom and dad for Thanksgiving, which I’m sure made The Boxer Princess happy as a clam.

And here’s to my son and his wife – Matt and Amber – fantastic, loving people doing the right thing at the right time. Miraculous!

Marsha

Marsha Roberts

Author of “Confessions of an Instinctively Mutinous Baby Boomer”

website: http://www.mutinousbabyboomer.com/

The Thanksgiving Dog

Now that the big Thanksgiving push is over and before everyone is totally focused on Christmas, I wanted to share a true story that's full of improbabilities (that I call miracles!), coincidences (that I believe are staged by angels!) and, of course - dogs!

My son Matt and his incredible wife Amber are unquestionably "Dog People." They have two rambunctiously adorable canines named Precious and Depaula and would love to have a third one if they could find the right fit with their eccentric crew. Well, Depaula isn't terribly eccentric, but Precious defines the word!

I'll never forget the first time I met Precious. Matt and Amber had just bought her a few days before and they were bringing their new Boxer puppy over to meet us and our two dogs, Smokey and Shadow. I have to say that had not been a huge fan of Boxers. I tend to like dog faces that are hound-shaped, not squished! (sorry to all of you Boxer and Bulldog fans, but that's what it looks like to me…) But Precious is something else all together and changed my view of Boxers forever. The thing is, she is just so female! In spite of her muscular build and her tongue that's so long she can hardly fit the whole thing in her mouth, she exudes femininity! She even bats her eyelashes and, as Amber imitates her, like she's saying, "But, I'm PRECIOUS! I'm beautiful! You just have to love me!"

However, that first meeting with Smokey was a no-go, nothing doing, you are not winning me over encounter. Maybe it was because Smokey had originally been Matt's dog who eventually became "The Family Dog" and so he stayed put when Matt moved out - so perhaps there was a little jealousy there. Regardless, he was not impressed with Precious and she was devastated.

Smokey is a short-legged, floppy-eared German Shepherd-and-something-else mix and all male. Precious did everything except stand on her head to get Smokey to like her. She flirted and when that didn't work, she humbled herself and batted those big eyes at Smokey. His answer was to plop down on the floor with a disgusted Harrumph! Finally, when it was completely clear she was not going to get an ounce of affection from Smokey, she sat up proudly with her back to him and stuck her bottom lip out and pouted like a five-year-old princess, glancing at Smokey occasionally as if to say, "How can you do this to me? I'm Precious!" It was hysterical to see this puppy with her bottom lip out, pouting!

And that just begins to describe how eccentric Precious is. You'd swear she sees ghosts, she'll go after a flash of light on a wall as if it were a critter that must be destroyed and no matter who is in the room, she is the most dominating personality and always the most energetic! Depaula is her partner-in-crime. Being a Pit mix, he's a little larger than Precious, but he's a gentle soul who seems to have been born to keep her company and calm her excited spirit down a bit. They are big buds.

Understanding the nature of Precious and Depaula is important if you're going to be able to visualize the events surrounding The Thanksgiving Dog.

It all started at about 4:00 am the Tuesday morning before Thanksgiving. Matt is a musician and a writer, so he's always kept odd hours. He had just gotten up and was going to let the dogs out. They live in a quaint townhouse with a front stoop and small fenced-in yard. The gate is always closed.

When he opened the front door there was a surprise waiting for him on the stoop: a large, unfamiliar dog laying there, shivering from the cold. He had the body shape of a Pit Bull and the coloring of a Dalmatian - one of his black spots went around his left eye, giving him a distinctive look. No way Matt was going to leave a dog out in the cold, so he brought him into the warmth and got him food and water. The Dynamic Duo of Precious and Depaula seemed to recognize the plight of a fellow pooch and didn't argue the point.

It wasn't long before Amber was up and they decided to take him over to the vet so the Stoop Dog could get scanned for a microchip to try and find his family. He didn't have on a collar, but was clean and groomed and appeared to be so very well cared for that they thought he would probably be chipped. He wasn't. So they took him in.

The three dogs dominated the living room as they worked at getting to know each other that day, but Matt got a kick out of it and thought they might be able to keep the Stoop Dog if they couldn't find his family. Later, when he let the three-some out into the front yard to do their business, the new dog suddenly got excited about something and jumped the fence. This isn't an easy thing to do because of the height, but he was strong and made it appear effortless. Matt figured he just wanted to try and find his home, so he let him go.

Ten minutes later, the big guy was back on their stoop again! At that point it was clear they had been "chosen" by this dog for some reason and decided it was the right thing to put up fliers and try and find his family.

During the day, Matt wrote us about what was going on, telling us what a "sweet guy" the Stoop Dog was and that the three of them got along pretty well, considering his sudden arrival! But, after awhile, Matt said the new dog seemed to get sad, laying his head down on Matt's leg, looking up at him like he was waiting for something. I'll let Matt (from his email) tell the story from here:

"So Amber came home a bit early from work and we decided to take him to the local shelter, even though we really didn't want to leave him there. We just figured he'd have the best chance of finding his family at the local shelter. I mean, that's where I would first go if we lost one of ours. Anyway, we get in the shelter (a really nice one, in our county) and tell them we found this dog, and the woman goes "Well look who it is. You two just made someone's day. His owner was in here this morning crying her eyes out because she'd been looking for him all night." Sure enough, she pulled out the pictures that the woman had left and it was the very same dog. They put us in contact with her, and when Amber called and told her we found her dog and kept him safe all day, she about lost her mind crying and thanking us. She left work right then and came to our house to get him. They were so happy to see each other. The dog (his name turned out to be Rico) just started wiggling and dog-dancing as soon as he saw her. She thanked us profusely…"

Now Matt and Amber would no doubt tell the story differently, they experienced it themselves. But, witnessing this wonderful story unfold from a distance, it seemed very magical to me. As Matt told me, Rico specifically came to their house three different times, once when he found him on the stoop and twice when he saw something and jumped the fence. But he came back each time, as Matt said, "like he knew he had to be here for a reason or something."

Matt isn't one who believes in miracles and angels like his mom, but since I've decided to "live as if everything is a miracle," this is my interpretation of the events. Rico's instinct obviously told him to go to that house, sit on that stoop and that's where he would find help. What is instinct? In my world it is either an angel whispering in your ear or miraculous forces making your next step abundantly clear. Either way, a miracle.

You could say that Matt and Amber taking Rico to that particular shelter was logical. Which is true. And you could say that Rico's owner was doing the logical thing by bringing photos of the dog to that particular shelter to see if anyone had found him. And, that would also be true. But, when you add up the number of "coincidences" and place them side-by-side with all of the coinciding instincts to do the "logical" thing and mix them with the deep desire that everyone involved had to do the right thing, the loving thing - I think all of that energy is very powerful. I believe that kind of positive, full-of-love energy (from the people and the dogs!) brings into play an even more powerful force. I call it God, you may call it The Universe, but for me, it all results in a miracle.

Because that's what a miracle is to me - love in action - in big ways and in small, everyday things. It's all around us, all the time.

That's it for The Thanksgiving Dog. Everyone was reunited just in time for Thanksgiving. And Precious and Depaula didn't have to share their mom and dad for Thanksgiving, which I'm sure made The Boxer Princess happy as a clam.

And here's to my son and his wife - Matt and Amber - fantastic, loving people doing the right thing at the right time. Miraculous!

Marsha

Marsha Roberts
Author of "Confessions of an Instinctively Mutinous Baby Boomer"
http://www.mutinousbabyboomer.com/
Confessions of an Instinctively Mutinous Baby Boomer

Angels, Miracles & Dogs – A Veterans’ Day Salute

I had the distinct honor and privilege of entertaining American troops, their families and veterans for over 15 years on military bases all over the world with the theatrical production, “Letters From The Front.” I lived in billeting along side them and I was “adopted” into their military family. So I can say from experience that we are blessed to the nth degree to have so many wonderful people who are willing to dedicate their lives to preserving our freedoms here in America. And it’s not just those who join and train to become a soldier, a sailor, an airman or a marine. It’s also the families who wait and pray for their safe return who serve.

Today’s blog is dedicated to all who serve and who have served – here and abroad. I know I said that this blog is based on three premises: angels are real, you can live as if everything is a miracle and there is a good reason that “dog” is God spelled backwards. But, stick with me on this story, a true one at that, and I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.

My story takes place in Germany in 1997. We were half way through our American military base tour in Europe that year, traveling on a bus, pulling our gear behind us in a trailer and setting up where ever they had the space to accommodate us. We arrived in Ansbach to find that the only place we could set up was a gym, complete with windows lining the top of the walls, next to the ceiling. Not the ideal place, but that’s all they had, so that’s what where we set up our show.

By this point we had been touring for several years and we were able to adapt to just about any situation. What we never got accustomed to was how deeply “Letters From The Front” affected our audiences. Every night, from the moment, our leading lady, Della Cole, stepped on stage as the character Katharine Hartgrove, until she and her co-star took their curtain-calls, our military audiences were captivated by the show. After all, it was their story we were telling. Katharine waiting at home for word of her son, Mark, who was fighting in Desert Storm, was something they all could personally relate to. It was even more intense for our overseas audiences who were either just returning from or preparing for deployment. Or they were a family member waiting — waiting for a loved one to be deployed or to return.

In 1997 two of the world’s hot spots were Kosovo and Bosnia.  Both places were rough assignments for our troops. We knew that Ansbach was a jumping off point for deployment to these areas, but that’s about all we knew. The show at the Katterbach Gym started promptly at 7:00 pm on October 29th. The sun was well above the horizon, which meant light was streaming in from the windows at top of the gym. There was nothing we could do about it, so we tried not to pay any attention to it. The creaking of the bleachers was very distracting, but the audience didn’t seem to mind. I could see people leaning forward to hear every word of the show.

In Act III, Katharine discovers that her son is missing in action. It happens suddenly, in the middle of a humorous scene and the audience doesn’t expect it. It’s quite jolting. Then, after a sleepless night, Katharine tries to cope with the knowledge that her son’s life is truly in imminent danger. She does what countless military moms have done throughout history, she drops to her knees and prays for the life of her son.

As the prayer scene began that night we could all hear a distant droning sound. At first we thought Della’s wireless mike was picking up something, which happened occasionally since there is no shortage of RF on military bases. But no, this was real and it got louder quickly.

On stage Katharine lifts her face toward heaven and prays, “I’ve been told that light, the true light, the light that illuminates our hearts and minds comes from you. How I need that light now!”

As if on cue, lights descended from the night sky, flashing through the windows at the top of the gym. On stage Katharine continued praying from the depths of her soul, kneeling as if at an altar, “Won’t you please let my son live?  He’s a flower that’s just come into bloom…”

The loud rumbling sound from outside intensified and became a distinctive thump-thump-thump. The lights from above grew brighter and flashed across Katharine’s face as she looked upward, raising her voice in prayer. “He’s a lily of the field.  Let him grow. Please God, just let him grow.”

By now, everyone in the gym knew what was happening. Helicopters were landing outside, bringing soldiers back from Kosovo and Bosnia. Loved ones were returning home safely from a war zone. In the play, after Katharine finishes her prayer, her son Mark calls — he’s safe too — safe like the real men and women who just arrived outside of our make-shift theatre.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house, including ours. We didn’t know if life was imitating art or art was imitating life, we all felt so connected, so joyful.

As soon as the show was over we all went running to the back of the gym to watch our soldiers disembark from the helicopters. Noses of loved ones were pressed against windows trying to catch a glimpse of a familiar face. The soldiers would have to be officially checked-in before they could throw their arms around those they loved.

Load-out is never quiet. It was quiet that night. Each of us were lost in our own thoughts about what we had witnessed and been privileged to be a part of. The air we were moving through, the entire place we were working in felt sacred.

We moved on from Ansbach the following day, on to more bases, to perform more shows and have more adventures. There were better, slicker performances of “Letters From The Front” to come and we visited places that were much more spectacular than Ansbach.  But, none were more memorable or touched us so deeply than the night Katharine prayed for the life of her son as helicopters landed right outside the theatre, the gym.

Angels come in many forms. Perhaps that night the angels were helicopter pilots. What about miracles? I can tell you, the air was filled with miracles that night. It was palpable.

And there is a good reason that “dog” is God spelled backwards. Because if you can’t find a dog in a story, it doesn’t matter, because you can always find God in one.

If you’ve visited my blog before, you know that I have invited each of you to join me in smiling our way back to better times. Today’s blog, was by nature, a serious subject. Don’t forget to tell the veterans in your life how much you appreciate their service to our country. And, the next time you see someone in uniform, put your hand out and say “Thank you for serving your country. We appreciate you.” You won’t believe how much it will mean to them. Trust me on this one – that’s when you’ll get your smile!

Marsha

Marsha Roberts

Author of “Confessions of an Instinctively Mutinous Baby Boomer”

http://www.mutinousbabyboomer.com/