A Dog Named Paisley

I’ll tell you straight up: this is a sad, bittersweet story. And it may seem strange to talk about the week of Thanksgiving, but please bear with me.

On July 16, 2013, our family adopted a little black Schnauzer from the Abilene Animal Shelter. Our daughter Erin gave her the name “Paisley.” She was supposed to be Erin’s pet, but just a few days after we brought the dog home, Erin went off to church camp for a week, so the animal adopted Kathy as her favorite human.

Because she was a rescue dog, the folks at the shelter couldn’t tell us exactly how old she was, but they guess-timated that she was probably about three. They gave us a certificate to have her spayed. Then we learned that, oh by the way, she has heartworms. So we had to have her treated for that before we could get her “fixed.”

This was a strange little critter. For one thing, she didn’t really like to be petted, and would sometimes snap at you if you tried. She didn’t enjoy playing fetch, and she didn’t “work and play well with others.” The few times we took her on a leash to the Abilene dog park, she mostly kept to herself. It absolutely freaked her out to see anyone running – dog, squirrel, cat, person. Didn’t matter; she would bark loud and long just at the sight of someone running or jogging. So, we mostly stuck with going on walks around the neighborhood, to explore the territory and sniff out the interesting smells, and for her to do her business. And yes, we always carried doggy poop bags, to clean up after her.

Here’s Paisley on Christmas morning a few years ago, wearing her special holiday sweater.

And on spring nights when a thunderstorm rolled through, she would bark furiously at the thunder. She didn’t seem to be afraid of the storm; she just wanted to make some noise of her own. But if I would get up and take her outside and sit on the porch with her in my lap, well, she was content to just listen to the rain and watch the lightning and be quiet. Sometimes I called her, “Paisley, the Weather Dog.”

A few years ago, she got to where she couldn’t control her bladder. It was very embarrassing whenever we would be hosting a home Bible study. Then we learned that she had developed bladder stones, and it wasn’t her fault – she truly couldn’t hold it. The vet surgeon removed a half dozen stones, some as big as ping pong balls, and solved that problem.

Unfortunately, in the last few years, she had developed a heart murmur. The vet said the heartworms had probably damaged her heart and left it in a weakened condition. She got to where she would sometimes wheeze and have a hard time catching her breath. But she still slept with us every night. Some nights, she would jump up on to the bed under her own power, but usually, we had to pick her up and put her up there. Then she would scratch and paw at the covers until she had turned down the bedspread.

Then early last Saturday morning, she jumped down off the bed, and almost immediately, began wheezing badly and coughing. She acted like she wanted to go outside, and she went out and immediately threw up and had diarrhea. She continued to have serious wheezing. I had to go out of town for a memorial service, but Kathy stayed here and took Paisley to the vet. Dr. Kameron listened to her breathe for a long time, and said her heart sounded like “a washing machine.” She speculated that it was probably due to a blood clot, and that we had two options – we could treat it medically, but it might not work, would be very expensive, and would need to be continued from now on.

Option two was – well, you can imagine.

Kathy and I had already discussed this before I left, and we agreed that, while we obviously did not want it to come to that, putting her down would probably be the most humane thing to do. And so that’s what happened. (Special thanks to Dr. Kameron for getting up early Saturday morning and providing compassionate care for our fur baby.)

Paisley was with us for over nine years. She should have died from the heartworms a long time ago. Even if that didn’t kill her, if we hadn’t adopted her, the shelter probably would have euthanized her within a few weeks. Instead, she had a good long life as a member of our family. Like all of us, she had her good points and her bad ones. She was a grouch and a curmudgeon, but then again, sometimes, so am I. At least she was honest about things.

So thanks, Paisley, for loving us, and letting us love you. We’ll miss the way you loved to chase squirrels in the back yard, and the way you tolerated the cat. We’ll miss the sound of your nails clicking on the wooden floor, and the ferocious greeting you would give us whenever we got home in the afternoon. And we’ll miss how excited you would get when we said, “Let’s go for a walk,” or that it was time for bed. We will always cherish our memories of you, and among the blessings that we will celebrate at Thanksgiving this week will be your friendship and companionship. You weren’t perfect, but you were ours.

So long, Puppy.

A Test of Character

In the movie Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, there’s a scene where a lieutenant is talking to Admiral James T. Kirk, after the young officer had just had a disastrous outcome on a simulated mission known as “The Kobayashi Maru.” When she asks the admiral about the right way to solve the problem, he says, “It’s a no-win scenario – there is no ‘right’ solution. It’s a test of character.”

I like that answer.

The idea of good character – what it means, how it reveals itself – is something that I’ve thought about a lot. Someone has said, “Character is who you are when no one is watching.” Character, or the lack thereof, is demonstrated by how we behave in our unguarded moments. It rises to the top during times of crisis and shows itself in ways large and small in our everyday actions.

And it has nothing to do with politics or religion. I’m sorry to say that many of our national leaders – as well as a lot of ministers that I have known personally over the years – show themselves to be sniveling cowards who will absolutely collapse like a house of cards during difficult times and sell their souls for the sake of trying to gain power or hold on to popularity. And others rise above the chaos and tumult to show unbreakable, unshakeable, strong character – “tested and approved,” as the scriptures say. Telling the truth, doing the right thing, standing up and speaking out on behalf of the marginalized, the downtrodden, the forgotten. Where are the people who will speak up for them?

I was doing some reading about this the other day, and I ran across an interesting column online somewhere; unfortunately, I did not write down the author’s name, and I haven’t been able to find it again. But I think this writer really catches the essence of what it means to be a person of good character through some unusual questions, and I wanted to pass it along to you. Now, as I say, this self-test is a little different, but if you ask yourself these questions and are honest about your answers, it may reveal something about your character.

1. How do you treat wait staff in restaurants and others who work in the hospitality industry?

Three of our four kids have or still are working in coffee shops, restaurants, bars, etc. The horror stories they tell about how they have been treated are absolutely shameful. And the worst perpetrators always seem to be the good, church-going folk with all the “I love Jesus” and “Follow me to church” bumper stickers on their cars, but who curse at the drive-through staff and are so unbelievably abusive and rude. A restaurant manager once told my son that it was almost impossible to staff the Sunday lunch schedule, because nobody wanted to work the after-church shift. They were rude and demanding, and absolutely terrible tippers. But they were perfectly happy to leave a tract about grace on the table, instead of an actual tip. Character is seen in how we treat the people who are serving us.

2. How do you relate to children?

Jesus told his followers, “Allow the little children to come to me and don’t forbid them, because the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to them.” This shocked to the disciples, because children are powerless. They can’t feed themselves. They can’t take care of themselves. They are dependent on their parents for everything. Kind of like us and God, actually. People of good character are those who will put an arm around a little shoulder and tell a kid, “You matter to me. You can do this. I believe in you.”

3. How do you relate to animals?

Proverbs 12:10 says, “Good people take care of their animals but the wicked are cruel to theirs.” How we care for critters reveals a lot about our relative levels of selfishness versus character. That’s especially true for animals that we don’t own and don’t plan to have for lunch. It’s true that God feeds the sparrows. But sometimes, we get to help.

4. How do you deal with shopping carts?

Okay, I grant you, this is a very strange question, but think about it – how do you handle shopping carts in the parking lot? I mean, there’s no penalty for not bringing the cart back to the door or not putting it in the cart corral, and there’s no bonus for returning the cart. The only reason for doing it, is because you care about someone else. You don’t want the cart that you just used to be in someone else’s way while they’re trying to park, or you don’t want the kid who’s gathering up all the abandoned carts to have to walk an extra mile to retrieve them. What we do with our shopping carts after we’re done with them is a real gauge of how concerned we are for and about other people.

And that’s a proper test of character.

Stories for Veteran’s Day

One of the things that I have always appreciated about living in Haskell has been the opportunity – really, the great blessing – of being able to meet and visit with veterans of so many of our nation’s wars over the years. What an amazing archive of experience!

Over the years, I have known men from Haskell, Rule, Rochester, and the entire county, who have shared with me stories of their days in the service. I have been blessed to know guys who were on the beaches of Normandy on D-Day – June 6, 1944. I have known guys who flew 25+ combat missions over occupied Europe in a B-17, and other guys who were with the 101^st Airborne, trapped at Bastogne and surrounded by the enemy during the Battle of the Bulge. I have also known veterans who were part of Patton’s forces that broke through the German lines and turned back that counter-offensive.

I have known guys from the Pacific Theater as well – men who were survivors of the Bataan Death March early in the war, and other guys who were with the Marines who stormed the beaches of Iwo Jima, including one who was with the troops who raised the FIRST flag on Mt. Suribachi. That flag was not large enough to be seen from the Navy ships off the coast, so the Marines raised another larger flag, and it is the picture of that second flag-raising that became so famous.

I knew a guy who was on the island of Saipan during the war. We held one end of a runway, but the Japanese still had the other end of it. He told me the story of how a Marine lieutenant was looking for a way to secure the entire runway, so our planes could use it. Since any approach the far end would mean being under withering enemy fire, my friend was recruited to drive a bulldozer and raise the blade. Then using that dozer blade as a shield and under continuous assault, my friend drove down to the far end of runway and gave cover to the Marines who took the other end of the runway and secured the base.

Where do we get such men?

There was a veteran from here who was in the first wave of troops to hit Utah Beach on D-Day. He told me that the Germans were extremely precise with their mortar fire, and able to drop explosive rounds exactly where they want to on the beach, resulting in terrible American casualties. But, he said, he and the men with him noticed that the Germans were “walking” their mortar rounds back and forth across the beach in a very methodical fashion, so that, by watching where the shells landed and timing their runs across at the right moments, they were able to get inland and take out the enemy positions.

And in so doing, the Allies were able to put 150,000 men ashore in the first 24 hours on the five beaches of D-Day, on their way to destroy Fascism and rescue a continent.

It’s worth remembering that Veterans Day was originally known as “Armistice Day.” It was the day that World War I ended – at the eleventh hour, on the eleventh day, of the eleventh month. That war is personal to me, because my grandfather was a “dough-boy” who fought in France and received a wound in his left shoulder from a German shell that landed behind him. He carried that scar with him for the rest of his life. Grandpa liked to work in the yard with his shirt off, and I can remember as a child, walking behind him and seeing that scar on his shoulder. He would come over to our house for supper and tell my brothers and me stories from the war. Not to glorify the violence or exalt in the killing, but to celebrate the courage of those who were there.

Here’s my grandpa, Stanley Garison (left) with another “dough-boy” during World War I.

And I remember at Grandpa’s funeral – he died on my birthday in 1980, at the age of 81 – the Purple Heart medal that he received because of that wound was pinned to his jacket lapel. The family had agreed that the medal should go to his oldest son, my uncle, who was a career Air Force man. Standing at the casket, my uncle was too overcome with emotion to unpin the decoration, so I removed it from Grandpa’s jacket and gave it to him. I felt very honored to handle, even in that small way, such a treasured piece of our family history.

America has been very blessed over the years that so many have answered the call – men and women who have been willing to “pay any price, bear any burden.” Haskell County is fortunate to be home to so many who have served when and where they were needed. Let us extend to all of them our gratitude for their sacrifice. So to all veterans – thank you for your service. And God bless America.

Do You Know Jack?

C.S. Lewis was one of the greatest Christian thinkers and authors of the twentieth century, and he is, by far, my favorite author. His writings, both fiction and non-fiction, have shaped my thinking and helped me become who I am today.

Christian author and thinker, C.S. “Jack” Lewis:
November 29, 1898 – November 22, 1963.

Clive Staples Lewis was born November 29, 1898, in Belfast, Ireland. As a small boy, he took the nickname “Jack” after a family pet, and so he was “Jack” to his friends for the rest of his life. His mother died while he was still young, and her death was a factor in him renouncing his Christian faith. He later wrote that he considered himself an atheist, although he also said that he was angry at God for NOT existing. He served with British troops in World War I and was wounded in a friendly fire accident that killed two friends. Eventually, he returned to faith, in part with the help of his friend and fellow author, J.R.R. Tolkien, and he would go on to hold prestigious academic positions at both Oxford and Cambridge. He passed away on November 22, 1963 – yes, the same day that President Kennedy was assassinated. (British author Aldous Huxley [Brave New World] also died that same day.)

If you haven’t read much of Lewis and are looking for a good place to start, I would recommend A Year with C.S. Lewis. It’s a collection of 366 brief readings of his material, gleaned from some of his best works, and arranged in a convenient, daily schedule. Spend a few minutes every morning for a year with Jack, and you will be amazed at how much better your clarity of thought will become.

Since this month is the anniversary of both his birth and death, I thought I would present five of his quotations that have really resonated with me over the years. Do you have a favorite Lewis quote? Please email me at haskellstarnews@gmail.com.

There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, “Thy will be done,” and those to whom God says, in the end, “Thy will be done.” All that are in Hell, choose it. Without that self-choice there could be no Hell. No soul that seriously and constantly desires joy will ever miss it. Those who seek find. To those who knock it is opened. The Great Divorce

…Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger: well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim: well, there is such a thing as water. Men feel sexual desire: well, there is such a thing as sex. If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. Mere Christianity

We can ignore even pleasure. But pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world. The Problem of Pain

It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased. The Weight of Glory

I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: “I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept his claim to be God.” That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic — on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg — or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God, but let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to. Mere Christianity