Saturday, January 29, 2011

Determined as My Beagle-Shepherd Mix (Slick)

The other night I heard my daughter screaming for her dad.  I was in the bedroom, he was on our screened in porch, and she was rooms away in the sunroom.  My first thought wasn’t one of alarm.  You have to know my family, especially my oldest child.  Everything she does has a dramatic flair.  But, I heard her continuing to cry so I finally joined the two of them in the sunroom to see what the latest event in the Bailey household had taken place.  I found her standing there crying like a baby, and my husband sitting in the floor with the dog in his lap stroking its belly.  For a moment, I thought he was going to break down in tears.  Okay, go ahead and think I am heartless, but the next thing that came to mind was ‘how much was this emergency room visit going to cost me?’   The last one was for about $600 for vet, tests, and meds.  But, I got down on my knees and started stroking Slick’s head.  He gave me that, ‘yes, you know you are going to shell it out, cause I am not going anywhere’ look.
In the midst of all this my daughter had spilled her meal, a Thai dish she had purchase for her late meal missing our measly dinner, her view point.  Anyway, trying to determine what story to tell the vet I asked what happened.  She’s cleaning up and still crying.  Hubby and I are still stroking the perpetual toddler in our home and she says, ‘He can’t walk.  He was stumbling, falling into the wall, and his legs kept giving out.’ 
At this point, my husband is lifting him gently like a baby and carrying him to his bed where he will be more comfortable.  I sit there on the floor still interrogating. 
I said, “He was fine a few minutes ago.  He was sitting there begging for my pizza crust.”  Pizza was my measly dinner.
She said, “Yeah, he looked fine when I came home.  I was sitting here watching television and I heard this loud crashing noise.”
“Where did it come from?” I asked.  Now I am real curious, because the dog who had just been lifted with the utmost care was now stumbling back into the room to find any leftover Thai on the floor.  My hubby is behind him trying to command him to sit or lie down.  Normally, he’s very obedient, but not when food is on his mind, my dog that is.  Instead of slowing down and giving me that “I am going to die if you don’t get to stepping and take me the vet” look, he is in search of morsels with flavor.  That’s when it hit me.  My little Slick loves pizza crust.  I think he learned all of his cute dog tricks in hopes of a reward of pizza crust.  He will lie down on command, sit, play dead, high five, play catch by tossing you the ball, and kiss all for the rewarding pleasure of a piece of pizza crust. 
What hit me was a pizza box sitting out of his reach in the kitchen.  No one was in the kitchen, and my guess is, all that he could think about was that pizza crust in that box.  I wasn’t there, but I think someone (Slick) took a running start for the kitchen counter and nearly knocked himself silly.  We didn’t run out to the vet, thank God.  I am still a mother who has had many, many hysterical visits to an emergency room, medical and veterinary, in my life, only to realize that perhaps we over-reacted.  Within the hour, our little man was running around, not stumbling, and today sat watching me carefully for some leftover pizza crust.
Slick taught me a lesson about determination.  I like to share with others my analogy about Lather, Rinse, Repeat (Learn, Assess, and keep doing it to give yourself the ammunition to make the right choices).  But, I should probably add to the speech that a heavy dose of determination is also required.  You can’t have anything or achieve anything unless you are determined to have it, like Slick was determined to have that pizza crust.
Dilsa Saunders Bailey is the author of Dreams Thrown Away, a literary novel filled with intrigue, suspense, and a little romance.   If you want to laugh a little, cry a little, and just want to get mad and amazed at what life can throw at you when you fail to make the right choices, BUY it on my website, and get free shipping through Valentine’s Day.  Get a copy on Kindle at Amazon.

©2011 Dilsa Saunders Bailey
For permission to reprint, contact me at dilsa@simplydilsa.com


Saturday, January 22, 2011

Lather and Learn

I love going to the hair salon.  More than getting the cut and curl, I love the shampoo.  Imagine with me for a moment sitting in the chair being draped ceremoniously with the foam strip around your neck and the big plastic cape.  You sit back against the cold porcelain sink and lay your head in some one’s capable hands.  The shampooer first runs a spray of warm water through hair to get it nice and wet, then she pumps the shampoo in her hands and begins to lather the shampoo into your hair.  At first, if your hair is really polluted, the suds won’t get foamy.  The shampoo will lather, but there is resistance.  The dirt or the pollutants don’t want to budge from their comfort zone until shampooer rinses you hair again with warm soothing water.  Her hands massage your head, your temples, and the back of your neck as she starts the lathering process again.  This time the stubborn pollutants that were holding on for dear life have loosened, have lessened their grip and are making room for the nutrients in the shampoo to  bond to your hair.  Once again, the lather is rinsed from the hair and the hair gets to assess the world and see it in a new light.  It is no longer clouded in pollutants, but dressed in a new shiny enclosure that makes the world look better and brighter.  Your hair stands out; it uses the new light and the new coat of shiny armor to look its best.  It chooses to flow freely and be open to new styles and new cuts.  Are you ready to shed the pollutants, the old way of thinking? Are you open to learning?  Can you lather?