“And yet our struggles are intrinsically meaningful, and perhaps more important than our goals. Speaking for myself, anyway, I generally find that the satisfaction I get from an accomplishment—whether it’s a good piece of writing or winning a basketball game—is relatively brief and somewhat anticlimactic. The process, the striving, the struggle—that is the main thing, for that is what fills up our days and gives them a forward drive, something to live, to fight, and even to die for.”
Our college age daughter brought the dog down to us overnight. She left a note on the kitchen table that there was a surprise waiting for us outside. Shelly and I woke up the following morning, read the note and went outside to the fenced backyard. A beautiful black lab, about one year old, was waiting to greet us. She immediately ran away from me when I walked out. I sat in a chair on the deck and coaxed her over to me. After smelling me I petted her a bit, then she jumped up and put her paws on my shoulders, looking me straight in the eyes. I had passed the trust test.
Our daughter has named most of our dogs, and this one she named Marley, because the dog was black and chill, just like Bob Marley. Turned out Marley had a fine black coat, but was definitely not chill. Labs as a breed are produced for energy and stamina, to run and hunt for long amounts of time. Not so much to just take a leisurely walk around the block. Marley did not really start to relax and slow down until around 6 or 7 years old. After struggling for several years with different leashes and even a full body harness for walks we decided she was just not built for the city and we would take her out to the woods or lake where she could run free.
I don’t think I have had a dog with so many aliases: Marley Maples, Marles Barkley, Girly Girl, Ooooold Lady, Marley Girl, (and along with our other dog Steve: Thing 1 and Thing 2, Marley being Thing 1) Honey, Sweetie, Baby, The Marlinator, Pooper, and I imagine some I have forgotten.
When we were finally ready to move to the country Marley was right there with us, riding along in one of the packed vans in the little empty space I left for her, trip after trip. She took to country living very well, chasing the rabbits around our acreage like she had the squirrels in our backyard in the city.
During the last couple of years her age began showing, her muzzle getting grayer, loosing teeth, going deaf, skipping meals, having accidents in the house and, during the last six months the onset of some kind of dementia. A few mornings she would wander off, with Steve following, clear down to the acreage to the east, about half a mile away, slowly walking back home when she was good and ready. She was almost 15 when we decided to put her down on February 21. She took it well, always trusting us, up to the end.
I remembered a touching little essay about a dog from years ago that ran in an Ann Landers column. I found it online:
A DOG`S PLEA
Treat me kindly, my beloved friend, for no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me.
Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I might lick your hand between blows, your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me the things you would have me learn.
Speak to me often, for your voice is the world`s sweetest music, as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail when the sound of your footstep falls upon my waiting ear.
Please take me inside when it is cold and wet, for I am a domesticated animal, no longer accustomed to bitter elements. I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth.
Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst.
Feed me clean food that I may stay well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side and stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life, should your life be in danger.
And, my friend, when I am very old and I no longer enjoy good health, hearing and sight, do not make heroic efforts to keep me going. I am not having any fun. Please see to it that my life is taken gently. I shall leave this Earth knowing with the last breath I draw that my fate was always safest in your hands.
Once a month I highlight a piece of art I have created and posted on my Fine Art America site. This one is titled The Planeter from the Faces and Beings Collection.
It’s been one year since I wrote on this blog and I decided to start it up again. We have been doing well, riding out the ups and downs like everyone else.
During last summer I noticed one of our big ash trees had a huge, old wound in the trunk, which was obscured by lilac bushes growing around it. The wound penetrated at least two-thirds through the trunk. Looking at the lilt of the tree it appeared that if it were to fall it would most likely hit our house and then possibly crash down on our septic system. A tree trimmer we hired took it down for $2,400. While walking around our acreage we noticed most of the other ash trees were dead or dying. Emerald Ash Borer has hit our part of Iowa hard and most of the ash trees in our area are dead. There are around ten or so on our property, and all need to come down, except the biggest one, which I paid to have treated. For right now that was much cheaper than having it taken down.
Our garden last year was about the worst we have ever had, very few tomatoes or peppers, but gigantic zucchinis for some reason. It was a hot, dry summer.
Fall was very short-lived, turning cold early. Shelly and I were feeling pretty ill just before Thanksgiving, and we both tested positive for Covid-19. The worst of it continued for a couple of weeks, and we both experienced lasting effects such as headaches, weakness, coughing and shortness of breath. Things have mostly cleared up by now.
Winter came on strong and windy and snowy. I had never experienced a three-day blizzard until just before last Christmas. When it was over, on Christmas Eve day, there were some snow drifts 6 feet tall along the east side of the house, across the driveway, and two in the parking lot. The west side of the machine shed was buried up to the roof. Farmer Johnson drove up that day on his tractor equipped with a bucket loader on the front and a double auger snow thrower on the back, and he was able to scoop and blow out the driveway and parking lot for us. He is a generous man who never asks anything in return. We give him and his wife baked bread and goodies, as well as produce from our garden when we can. He always says “I don’t help you to earn goodies!” and we always reply “We know! This is just what we do!”
We are really looking forward to spring and warmer weather, which should be right around the corner…as could be another snow storm.
This month marks three years I have been posting to Off The Back Porch. It has been fun, but I want to take some time off to write, draw, take photos and sharpen the old saw. Thank you for reading so far and if you are a subscriber you don’t need to do anything, the next posts will arrive in your mailbox when I start up again. See you later…
A few weeks ago the power company showed up to replace a couple of utility poles on our road, one of which was next to our acreage. I had never seen this done so I watched them, off and on, for the couple of hours it took to do the job. There were two trucks with cherry pickers mounted on top on either side of the lines. There was a man in each of the buckets attached to the pickers, parallel with the power lines at the top of the pole. They disconnected the wires from the pole and held them suspended in place while the rest of the work below them went on. A new hole was dug next to the old pole with a large auger mounted on a crane attached to another truck. Then using the same crane they pushed on the old pole until it broke in two, the top crashing to the ground. The men in the cherry pickers continued to hold the lines in place. The rest of the pole was pulled out of the ground by a big hydraulic claw, which then grabbed the new pole and put it in the new hole. The base was filled in, the men above holding the lines attached them to the new pole, and they were done. All without us loosing power, and them working during during a windy day in below freezing temperatures.
Our first robins of the year were spotted here March 4th, hopping around looking for food on the still frozen ground. Just a few days before that we were enjoying a small fire outside and heard the first flock of geese flying overhead. Spring approaches.
The Prairie Homesteadis “an online space with over one million monthly visits dedicated to helping people learn how to grow their own food and opt-out of the rat race, regardless of where they live.”
“The website broadbandchoices conducted a study to determine the scariest films of all time, measuring their results based on the elevated heartbeats of participants. They’ve dubbed the experiment the Science of Scare Project. This is their Top 25.” That is the 2020 list. Click here for the updated 2021 list.
Dusty Old Thing is a very addictive site. “From tales about treasures found to reliving moments in our collective past, our aim is to share with people the items, stories, and memories we hold so dear. History is a part of us all and it’s important we remember and celebrate it.”
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Off The Back Porch 