A Time For All Seasons Under Heaven

 

This is a picture of my Mom and her Mom from Chicago, and
my very first dog Ralt.
My Dad built a bungalow, in a bungalow zone area, with a basement.
Since we had long cold winters, I had all my toys down there
as well as a swing and my bicycle.
Every morning I'd get up, go to the kitchen cabinet under the sink,
where my Mom would put out fruit
for me to eat.My favorite were bananas.
I usually got up very early and by the time my parents were up
the house was full of banana peels.lol
Then I'd go downstairs and quietly play with my toys.
This time though, I went down and saw this wolf looking at me from under the
wringer washing machine my Mom had down there.
If you can remember, this machine stood on legs no more than a foot high,
so to sit under there, you had to be pretty small.
I screamed and high tailed it out of there yelling WOLF! WOLF!
There is a WOLF in the basement!
I would have all these Red Riding Hood stories in my head and
we all know what happened to her grandmother.lol
My parents jumped out of bed and sleepy eyed, my Dad came out smiling,
trying to console me. He took me by the hand and said:
" No, that's not a wolf.
Come, I'll show you. It's a puppy."
We went downstairs and sat on squeaky springs of this old twin bed he had down there.
Then he called the puppy. He had already given him a name after
 his beloved Pointer hunting dog, Ralt.
Little Ralt came wagging his tail, trying to be so friendly and I was on top of the springs
jumping around, trying not to have my legs bit.
My Dad was gentle introducing us.
He said I should pat him and I'd reach out and touch him with my finger ,
quickly pulling it away so as not to be eaten lol
Seeing nothing bad happened I would giggle and then try again.
It didn't take us long to become great friends.
 I especially loved his red fur color, as it reminded me of a fox.
Ralt was a smart dog and learned many tricks.
At night I'd try to sneak him into my room and hide him under my bed covers, but the
security in my household was tight. lol
Rules were rules.
No dogs in bed.!
My Mom would come into my room to check on me before going to bed and she'd see this tail wagging under the bed covers and take him away.
But I kept trying and failing, except one night, I crept out of my room to get
 my dog and I told him SHHHH!
I tip toed down the hallway and turned around to see that my dog was also lifting his
 feet high, to tip toe as well.
I got him into bed and not five minutes later here came MOM.
I tucked Ralt between my legs trying to hold down his tail too and pretended to be sleeping.
Ralt didn't move and knew he was part of a serious plot to keep him where he also wanted to be. lol
EUREKA!!
We fooled her.
She kissed my forehead and left ,closing the door behind her. lol
I had my dog the full night and we were both in seventh heaven.

You see, cleverness happens when you have to get around the word NO! lol

I sneaked him in many times after that and didn't have to hold him tight because he knew
if he wanted to stay, he had to play the game.

One morning I got up and Ralt was not on the balcony.
I asked my Mom where Ralt was and she said she didn't know.
There were not many houses back then around where we lived but construction was coming.
They rezoned the area for duplexes and slowly we were left the only bungalow, which we later had to
continue building higher to fit in.

Ralt was gone three days and I was in tears.
The forth day he came back lowering his head and wagging his tail shyly.
We were over joyed and I jumped out the door to hug him and kiss him.
I was soo happy
My Mom put him in the basement and next thing I knew, all hell broke loose.

My dog was sick and I was not to go into the basement.
We'd open the door and he'd stand there, growling at us.
My Mom closed the door quickly and told my Dad.
They called the SPCA and we were told he had rabies and that many dogs
in the area were infected.
This wonderful dog, who would bring home hurt birds and bunnies gently in his mouth,
and lay them at our feet to be saved and here,
there was nothing we could do for him.
At school we watched a movie about Ol Yeller and all the kids cried,
but I cried the most because Yeller was  my dog too.
I had many dogs in my life.
Some I saved, to train,  so as to get people interested to want to give it a good home.
I never charged more than a penny or a nickel because
it's bad luck not to give something back, for a good deed.lol
Some I had to put down, Some were too sick when I got them
with genetic problems.
No person, could be as loyal and as true a companion, than a dog,
who always puts you first.
When I look at the SPCA and other charities today, I don't see them speaking for
those who can't speak for themselves.They put the cars and salary before the dog and cat food.
They look for reasons to force you to throw money out the window.
It's always about money first.
To me, if you call yourself a charity, it should consist
of dedicated volunteers, to collect money,volunteers donating goods and services,
volunteers providing free transport, volunteers providing free advertising etc.... until the aid reaches
the people or project it was designed for.
This is what is called charity. Everything else is bogus.
It a group of people creating a job for themselves at the expense of
 something or someone in need, who gets nothing.
I was sent a poem about a cranky old man and I can see why old people
become hard .
You get to the point of understanding that no one really cares.
You've got to understand God, to be able to do his work.
--------------------------
From Judy FB page
A poem found at the bedside of a dead man in a geriatric ward/nursing home,
in Australia.
Cranky Old Man
What do you see nurses?… … What do you see?What are you thinking… … when you’re looking at me?A cranky old man… … not very wise,Uncertain of habit… … with faraway eyes?Who dribbles his food… … and makes no reply.When you say in a loud voice… … ‘I do wish you’d try!’Who seems not to notice… … the things that you do.And forever is losing… … A sock or shoe?Who, resisting or not… … lets you do as you will,With bathing and feeding… … The long day to fill?Is that what you’re thinking?… … Is that what you see?Then open your eyes, nurse… … you’re not looking at me.

I’ll tell you who I am … … As I sit here so still,As I do at your bidding… … as I eat at your will.

I’m a small child of Ten… … with a father and mother,Brothers and sisters… … who love one another A young boy of Sixteen… … with wings on his feet Dreaming that soon now… … a lover he’ll meet.A groom soon at Twenty… … my heart gives a leap.Remembering, the vows… … that I promised to keep.At Twenty-Five, now… … I have young of my own.Who need me to guide… … And a secure happy home.A man of Thirty… … My young now grown fast,Bound to each other… … With ties that should last.

At Forty, my young sons… … have grown and are gone,But my woman is beside me… … to see I don’t mourn.At Fifty, once more… … Babies play ‘round my knee,Again, we know children … … My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me… … My wife is now dead.
I look at the future… … I shudder with dread.For my young are all rearing… … young of their own.And I think of the years… … And the love that I’ve known.
I’m now an old man… … and nature is cruel.It’s jest to make old age… … look like a fool.The body, it crumbles… … grace and vigor, depart.
There is now a stone… … where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass… … A young man still dwells,And now and again… … my battered heart swells
I remember the joys… … I remember the pain.And I’m loving and living… … life over again.
I think of the years, all too few… … gone too fast.And accept the stark fact… … that nothing can last.So open your eyes, people… … open and see.
Not a cranky old man… …
Look closer… see … … . . ME!!

xoxoxooxo