We've Gone to the Dogs

I don't really know what that statement means, but it got me thinking about pets.

Watching mindless TV one night I saw a show that featured a couple who talked on and on about their kids. The woman couldn't stop talking about how her time had been taken up with making sure the kids had clean towels and plenty of food during a recent storm. She regaled her neighbor with the stories, seeking sympathy for all that a working mother must deal with in the course of a day.

Later in the show you realized her children were not real children at all, but instead her cats that she fondly called her "kids". Yes, she was a little over the top with her attentiveness, but it got me missing my cats, Mick and Molly.

My "kids"-ooohhhh, that doesn't feel right for me! My cats were with me through a couple of moves, my mom's illness and death and the break up of a major relationship. They died within one year of each other, a tough time on top of other tough times, to be sure.

When I sought solace for my loss with friends, I found many who were wonderfully supportive and secretly shared their own feelings of the deaths of their pets through the years. It was if we were now in a secret club together; knowing that the other would not think you "odd" for loving a furry blob with four legs.

So what's up with that? Why are we so afraid to share our love of animals and our sadness over their loss openly? Yes, the woman on TV was a little extreme, but our real life movies often include wonderful scenes with pets that need to be recorded in our memories forever.

I plan to listen more fully when someone mentions their beloved pet died. I think that's the best way to honor their feelings and the life of a furry friend that brought love and happiness into their lives.

And So It Begins- the Countdown

Whenever we enter a New Year it's natural to let that passing of time become our marker for other life events: birthdays, graduations, anniversaries and so forth.

My now-deceased mother would do that: each year on my birthday she would call me and say "twenty-two years ago (or twenty-five or twenty-six or whatever age I happened to be that year) I became the happiest mother ever because you were born!" A lovely sentiment, to be sure, but I also loved her next statement: "I hope you have a wonderful year, honey."

It was so much more pleasant to look ahead to that new year of life than to be reminded of all the years that I was less than who I hoped to be or spending time recounting the mistakes I made.

Now, with a few more years of birthdays celebrated, I can see that the lessons learned contributed to the choices I make for my future today.

How about you? What memories of your deceased loved ones, or even your own life experiences, will you allow to propel you forward into this New Year? How will you honor the past while creating a great future?

The choice is yours and I support you in taking bold steps to make those choices your reality!