This is going to be the year when our family takes recycling into the 21st century. Global warming is having such an impact on the condition of our world that if we don’t do something soon, our grandchildren and great grandchildren may not have a world to call home. I realize that individually, my family may not be able to have a major impact on global warming, but we can change our lifestyle habits and do our part. If every family would take recycling and conservation seriously, then maybe one by one we can make a difference.
I have always been a big re-user of newspapers and junk mail because these are both biodegradable. I use newspapers to start the foundation of new beds in my gardens. When I decide on the location of a new bed, the first thing I do is clear the area and then lay down thick wads of wet newspaper to cover the ground. After sprinkling a small layer of garden soil over the newspaper, I start layering the bed with leaf mulch, grass clippings and other yard waste. These garden beds are best when allowed to “rest” through a few seasons before planting, but they can be planted immediately, depending on how much organic material you have on hand. Because I have one acre to care for, I have pounds and pounds of yard waste to supply new beds. The newspaper barrier will break down in the soil almost immediately and provides the moist dark environment to attract earthworms.
Earthworms are the workhorses of the garden. Why dig and till the soil when you can wait a few months and let the worms do their thing? Worms live a charmed life—all they do is eat, poop and reproduce. Their voracious appetites allow them to eat all types of garden and kitchen waste and all that eating leads to pure gold; composting gold that is. As the earthworms tunnel their way through layers of newspaper, leaf mold and grass clippings, they leave behind aerated soil and worm castings, which fertilize the new soil.
With the introduction of a paper shredder to our home office, junk mail is a pleasure to deal with. I have always composted my junk mail, but because much of the paper is colored or thicker than normal newspaper print, it takes much longer to break down. Now, whenever we bring junk mail into the house, we automatically shred it. This eliminates the chance of identity thief, plus the shredded junk mail decomposing much faster because of the smaller size. This fall, I dug several large holes throughout my gardens in anticipation of planting new trees this spring. All fall and winter I have been filling these holes up with shredded junk mail and kitchen scrapes. I keep the holes covered with a layer of leaves and every few weeks I stomp down the holes and stir them up with my garden claw; this allows air to circulate which improves the decomposition. When it comes time to plant my trees, I will have nice big holes full of nice rich compost. There is nothing better for a new tree than loads of organic matter.
Aluminum cans have always been a recyclable item in our home, typically being sold by the pound. The past few years, our use of aluminum cans have greatly decreased, so we are lucky to get $25 a year for our cans, but in past years, we have gotten upwards of $100 a year for cans. However, food cans is not something I have been in the habit of recycling. It has been so convenient to just throw these cans into the trash and forget about them, but Christine has made me see the error of my ways. Since this past November, we have religiously been washing out cans and removing the labels (which go into the compost piles) before throwing the cans into the recycling bag. I have also used soup cans to sprout herbs and veggies in my kitchen windows.
Glass jars are an item that we reuse more then recycling, because there are so many uses for old glass jars. They can be used for all types of storage problems, from the kitchen to the garage. Baby food jars are great for small nuts and bolts, pickle jars are good for refrigerator storage, and commercial size jars can hold sugar, flour, or tea. During the holiday season, I always make fireside coffee, hot cocoa, or spice tea mixes as well as soup and cookie mixes to give to family and friends. Collecting jars throughout the year is a must in order to have enough containers for my gift giving.
Currently, our major recycling problem is plastic bottles—water, soda, milk, mustard, ketchup, you name it and we are drowning in plastic. Two liter bottles are great for making mini greenhouses for spring transplants, but there are only so many you need before you become over-run. Water bottles are reused as often as possible, but we still accumulate dozens within a month’s time. Although it is a little more trouble to recycle these bottles, it is well worth it in the long run if it keeps them from entering our landfills. Cat litter buckets are great to use in place of a five gallon bucket for yard projects and milk jugs can be turned into bird feeders.
I still have relapses, I am human after all, but Christine is trying to keep me straight. As a matter of fact, she has taken on the responsibility of the plastic bottles and soup cans; I just have to provide routine transportation to the recycling center. I know what you are thinking, my life is busy enough without adding trips to the recycling center, but fifteen minutes every other week is not too much to ask in the war to save our planet. Once it becomes habit, going to the recycling center will become routine. Start small, save newspapers or compost kitchen waste, but just get started. Our future generations are counting on us all.
© Bobbi Rightmyer, February 2007
Friday, February 2, 2007
Thursday, January 4, 2007
Mercer County Tourism
With tourism dollars leaving our county in record amounts, I think it is the responsibility of all Mercer Countians to help promote tourism. We are the ones living in this wonderful community, so we are the perfect people to describe all the breathtaking things Mercer County has to offer.
Since the Legend of Daniel Boone is no longer running, I feel a void in our community. Mr. Ralph Anderson and his wife have been so generous with supporting tourism in our county, but now it is up to the rest of us. In addition to telling people about tourist spots in Harrodsburg and the surrounding county, we need to be visiting these places ourselves.
With gas prices sky rocketing over the past year, traveling has become an expensive venture for most middle class families. Why not make up for that expense by visiting the tourist attractions in our county? Then after re-visiting these places again for yourself, tell all your friends and family about the beautiful things Mercer County has to offer.
Old Fort Harrods is still open for business, even with the closing of the legend of Daniel Boone. The Black Box Theater is currently the home of a traveling Smithsonian exhibit for the month of January and this is a great example of historical family entertainment. How long has it been since your family took a tour of the Old Fort or the lovely museum? Maybe this summer when you have family visiting from out of town or out of state, take them on a tour of the Old Fort and museum. Go on a picnic under the huge Osage orange tree in the front lawn of the park or have a family reunion in the shelter house and playground. Area. All money spent at the park will help to benefit the entire county and help build back our tourism trade.
Shaker Village at Pleasant hill is another historic site that many Mercer Countians take for granted, but this is another wonderful place to bring your family and friends. With 2900 acres of land, 40+ miles of walking trails, 34 restored Shaker buildings, and a historic boat ride, Shaker Village has something to offer everyone. You can learn about the history of the Shakers in Kentucky, learn about their religion and their trade business with the outside world.
Shaker Village also has numerous workshops and events help throughout year, so there is always something to do. Overnight lodging is also available and all 81 rooms are in restored Shaker buildings. Equestrians can bring their own horses to the village and ride on numerous marked trails. Music programs and Shaker Life and Beliefs talks are available through the spring, summer and fall as well as agricultural talks. There are on going demonstrations in wood working, broom making, coopering, and spinning and weaving. You can also visit the demonstration herb and vegetable gardens, along with the apple orchard. Animals abound on the Shaker Village land—horses, sheep cows, donkeys, ducks and geese—and there are usually plenty of baby animals, too.
The historic downtown area of Harrodsburg is also another tourist attraction for visitors. Not only are there many restored buildings and businesses, there is also a walking tour to allow for up close investigation of the many historic homes around the community. The Ragged Edge Theatre offers numerous presentations throughout the year, showcasing the many talented people of Harrodsburg and Mercer County. The water fountain park located next door to the Ragged Edge also hosts many musical performances during the summer. Downtown Harrodsburg is also host to car shows and motorcycle events which gives out-of-towners a taste of our quaint little town.
Historic Beaumont Inn is another tourist attraction with lots of home town appeal. Not only does the Inn offer spacious overnight lodging and good old Southern hospitality, but it is the home of the yellow-legged fried chicken and the best corn pudding since Granny Sallee’s. The Beaumont Inn Gift Shop offers eloquent gifts and souvenirs from around Kentucky. The Old Owl Tavern is the newest attention to the Beaumont Inn family, and as the name states, it is like a quaint old tavern. The tavern is a wonderful place to come and unwind after a long, hard days work.
Out in the county, Mercer is home to the Brightleaf Golf Course and Motel. This 18-hole golf course sits in the middle of some of the most beautiful land in the county. The greens are to perfection and the obstacles and scenery make this one of the best courses in the state.
Of course, Mercer County has numerous horse and cattle farms for the viewing. Anderson Circle Farm and the “Cow Palace” are big attractions and they also offer a large area for receptions, meetings, or any type of party you can think of. Many of the horse farms in the county offer riding trails, workshops and lessons
The Twin Hills Drive-In is another treasure that I personally am glad to see reopened. You may not think of a drive-in as being a tourist attraction, but it really is. There are people who come from Franklin, Woodford, Boyle and other counties—just to be at a real drive-in theatre. Drive-ins are an endangered species, so Twin Hills has the possibility of being a huge tourist draw for our community.
As 2007 becomes our new year, let’s remember all the wonderful entertainment our community has to offer. I know I have forgotten someone and it is not my intention to slight any business or organization, I just want to draw attention to all the wonderful opportunities available in Mercer County. The future also will give us the new Agricultural Museum, which I am excited about because it will be within walking distance of my home. So make a resolution this year to visit some or all of the attractions within our community and spread the excitement to all your friends and family. After all, in order for our area to grow, word of mouth is a powerful tool.
© Bobbi Rightmyer, January 2007
Since the Legend of Daniel Boone is no longer running, I feel a void in our community. Mr. Ralph Anderson and his wife have been so generous with supporting tourism in our county, but now it is up to the rest of us. In addition to telling people about tourist spots in Harrodsburg and the surrounding county, we need to be visiting these places ourselves.
With gas prices sky rocketing over the past year, traveling has become an expensive venture for most middle class families. Why not make up for that expense by visiting the tourist attractions in our county? Then after re-visiting these places again for yourself, tell all your friends and family about the beautiful things Mercer County has to offer.
Old Fort Harrods is still open for business, even with the closing of the legend of Daniel Boone. The Black Box Theater is currently the home of a traveling Smithsonian exhibit for the month of January and this is a great example of historical family entertainment. How long has it been since your family took a tour of the Old Fort or the lovely museum? Maybe this summer when you have family visiting from out of town or out of state, take them on a tour of the Old Fort and museum. Go on a picnic under the huge Osage orange tree in the front lawn of the park or have a family reunion in the shelter house and playground. Area. All money spent at the park will help to benefit the entire county and help build back our tourism trade.
Shaker Village at Pleasant hill is another historic site that many Mercer Countians take for granted, but this is another wonderful place to bring your family and friends. With 2900 acres of land, 40+ miles of walking trails, 34 restored Shaker buildings, and a historic boat ride, Shaker Village has something to offer everyone. You can learn about the history of the Shakers in Kentucky, learn about their religion and their trade business with the outside world.
Shaker Village also has numerous workshops and events help throughout year, so there is always something to do. Overnight lodging is also available and all 81 rooms are in restored Shaker buildings. Equestrians can bring their own horses to the village and ride on numerous marked trails. Music programs and Shaker Life and Beliefs talks are available through the spring, summer and fall as well as agricultural talks. There are on going demonstrations in wood working, broom making, coopering, and spinning and weaving. You can also visit the demonstration herb and vegetable gardens, along with the apple orchard. Animals abound on the Shaker Village land—horses, sheep cows, donkeys, ducks and geese—and there are usually plenty of baby animals, too.
The historic downtown area of Harrodsburg is also another tourist attraction for visitors. Not only are there many restored buildings and businesses, there is also a walking tour to allow for up close investigation of the many historic homes around the community. The Ragged Edge Theatre offers numerous presentations throughout the year, showcasing the many talented people of Harrodsburg and Mercer County. The water fountain park located next door to the Ragged Edge also hosts many musical performances during the summer. Downtown Harrodsburg is also host to car shows and motorcycle events which gives out-of-towners a taste of our quaint little town.
Historic Beaumont Inn is another tourist attraction with lots of home town appeal. Not only does the Inn offer spacious overnight lodging and good old Southern hospitality, but it is the home of the yellow-legged fried chicken and the best corn pudding since Granny Sallee’s. The Beaumont Inn Gift Shop offers eloquent gifts and souvenirs from around Kentucky. The Old Owl Tavern is the newest attention to the Beaumont Inn family, and as the name states, it is like a quaint old tavern. The tavern is a wonderful place to come and unwind after a long, hard days work.
Out in the county, Mercer is home to the Brightleaf Golf Course and Motel. This 18-hole golf course sits in the middle of some of the most beautiful land in the county. The greens are to perfection and the obstacles and scenery make this one of the best courses in the state.
Of course, Mercer County has numerous horse and cattle farms for the viewing. Anderson Circle Farm and the “Cow Palace” are big attractions and they also offer a large area for receptions, meetings, or any type of party you can think of. Many of the horse farms in the county offer riding trails, workshops and lessons
The Twin Hills Drive-In is another treasure that I personally am glad to see reopened. You may not think of a drive-in as being a tourist attraction, but it really is. There are people who come from Franklin, Woodford, Boyle and other counties—just to be at a real drive-in theatre. Drive-ins are an endangered species, so Twin Hills has the possibility of being a huge tourist draw for our community.
As 2007 becomes our new year, let’s remember all the wonderful entertainment our community has to offer. I know I have forgotten someone and it is not my intention to slight any business or organization, I just want to draw attention to all the wonderful opportunities available in Mercer County. The future also will give us the new Agricultural Museum, which I am excited about because it will be within walking distance of my home. So make a resolution this year to visit some or all of the attractions within our community and spread the excitement to all your friends and family. After all, in order for our area to grow, word of mouth is a powerful tool.
© Bobbi Rightmyer, January 2007
Saturday, December 2, 2006
The True Meaning of Christmas
What is the true meaning of Christmas? That is a question that has been debated for decades. Peace on Earth, good will to men … how do you accomplish these with today’s fractured families? Families are spread from one end of the continent to another and by illness, divorce, and just plain age difference.
How do we keep the perspective of the Christ child when there is so much greed in the world? So much terrorism? Christmas has become a commercialized holiday with the slogan being, “More, more, more.” Television commercials start to bombard us well before Halloween and they continue right up until Christmas day, bypassing Thanksgiving all together.
I know it is natural for kids to think of Christmas in a material way. Heaven knows, my girls are the same way, but how to parents separate the true meaning from the commercial meaning? There is a fine line to follow between the two
First, children need to be taught when they are young that the Christmas season symbolizes the birth of Jesus. They learn this in the home and during Sunday school. My girls know all about Baby Jesus and the birth story, but does this help them forget about Santa and presents? No, but at least they know the reason for the season. Once children have become school age, their attention turns to Santa and how many toys they will receive under the Christmas tree. Public school systems are not allowed to teach the religious implications of Christmas, so it is up to parents to provide reinforcement.
Second, parents need to participate, with their children, in religious ceremonies during the holiday season. Our church has an Advent service to usher in the holiday. From the hanging of the greens, to the Advent flags, to the joyous sounds of the choir, our Christmas would seem empty without this traditional service. We also like to attend a living Nativity at a local church. There is something wonderful about visiting a living Nativity and imagining what it was like to live in the days of Jesus. Of course, on Christmas Eve we attend a quiet church service, as a family. After opening mounds of presents at Nana and Papa’s house, we go to a simple candle light service and observe the Lord’s Supper. Of course, after church we head to MaMaw’s house for more presents, but the point is, we try to incorporate the religious with the commercial so the girls don’t think Christmas is all toys and gifts.
Just before bedtime on Christmas Eve, we leave the cookies and Mountain Dew for Santa and carrots for the reindeer, but we always add a special touch. Every since my 19 year old daughter – Amber – was a baby, we have left a piece of birthday cake, complete with a birthday candle, for the Baby Jesus. This may seem like a silly thing to do, but it is a religious tradition my family counts on each year.
Another thing parents can do is help their children participate in activities that help other people. Every year, we faithfully give to the Harrodsburg Love Tree. It is interesting when you take your child shopping for a toy to be given away. O course, they always want the toy for themselves, but after explaining there may be some children who don’t get any presents for Christmas; your kids will quickly get in the spirit. There is also the opportunity of giving by participating in the Angel Tree or Toys for Tots programs. You can go as a family and pick out presents for one certain child, or an entire family. Children also love donating food to the Mountain of Love or the Christian Life Center. This makes them feel useful, and special, and it helps to show them giving can be just as fun as getting. I know my youngest daughter has become attached to an elderly lady who lives across the street from her Mamaw, and every year at Christmas, Christine wants to give her a little something. It makes a parent feel proud when their children start to care about giving to other people. Of course, this is the same child who has a Christmas list two pages long, but she is leaning that giving is important.
I know the commercialization of Christmas will never stop, but if families work together, maybe they can control the greed, just a little, and be able to teach their children a valuable lesson. And even though my youngest still wants all the latest toys under the tree, just yesterday she told me, “Mommy, Christmas is for giving”. Maybe I haven’t done such a bad job parenting after all.
© Bobbi Rightmyer, December 2006
How do we keep the perspective of the Christ child when there is so much greed in the world? So much terrorism? Christmas has become a commercialized holiday with the slogan being, “More, more, more.” Television commercials start to bombard us well before Halloween and they continue right up until Christmas day, bypassing Thanksgiving all together.
I know it is natural for kids to think of Christmas in a material way. Heaven knows, my girls are the same way, but how to parents separate the true meaning from the commercial meaning? There is a fine line to follow between the two
First, children need to be taught when they are young that the Christmas season symbolizes the birth of Jesus. They learn this in the home and during Sunday school. My girls know all about Baby Jesus and the birth story, but does this help them forget about Santa and presents? No, but at least they know the reason for the season. Once children have become school age, their attention turns to Santa and how many toys they will receive under the Christmas tree. Public school systems are not allowed to teach the religious implications of Christmas, so it is up to parents to provide reinforcement.
Second, parents need to participate, with their children, in religious ceremonies during the holiday season. Our church has an Advent service to usher in the holiday. From the hanging of the greens, to the Advent flags, to the joyous sounds of the choir, our Christmas would seem empty without this traditional service. We also like to attend a living Nativity at a local church. There is something wonderful about visiting a living Nativity and imagining what it was like to live in the days of Jesus. Of course, on Christmas Eve we attend a quiet church service, as a family. After opening mounds of presents at Nana and Papa’s house, we go to a simple candle light service and observe the Lord’s Supper. Of course, after church we head to MaMaw’s house for more presents, but the point is, we try to incorporate the religious with the commercial so the girls don’t think Christmas is all toys and gifts.
Just before bedtime on Christmas Eve, we leave the cookies and Mountain Dew for Santa and carrots for the reindeer, but we always add a special touch. Every since my 19 year old daughter – Amber – was a baby, we have left a piece of birthday cake, complete with a birthday candle, for the Baby Jesus. This may seem like a silly thing to do, but it is a religious tradition my family counts on each year.
Another thing parents can do is help their children participate in activities that help other people. Every year, we faithfully give to the Harrodsburg Love Tree. It is interesting when you take your child shopping for a toy to be given away. O course, they always want the toy for themselves, but after explaining there may be some children who don’t get any presents for Christmas; your kids will quickly get in the spirit. There is also the opportunity of giving by participating in the Angel Tree or Toys for Tots programs. You can go as a family and pick out presents for one certain child, or an entire family. Children also love donating food to the Mountain of Love or the Christian Life Center. This makes them feel useful, and special, and it helps to show them giving can be just as fun as getting. I know my youngest daughter has become attached to an elderly lady who lives across the street from her Mamaw, and every year at Christmas, Christine wants to give her a little something. It makes a parent feel proud when their children start to care about giving to other people. Of course, this is the same child who has a Christmas list two pages long, but she is leaning that giving is important.
I know the commercialization of Christmas will never stop, but if families work together, maybe they can control the greed, just a little, and be able to teach their children a valuable lesson. And even though my youngest still wants all the latest toys under the tree, just yesterday she told me, “Mommy, Christmas is for giving”. Maybe I haven’t done such a bad job parenting after all.
© Bobbi Rightmyer, December 2006
Sunday, July 2, 2006
Daddy - Daughter Date Night
Keith and Christine recently had a special “daddy-daughter” date night by going to Cincinniati to see a rock concert. Sugarcult—Christine’s current favorite band—was playing at a small arena and tickets were very reasonably priced. Christine was so excited, and Keith went thru pure heck to be able to take her.
Because the concert was on a Friday night, it was still a work day for Keith. Normal work days for Keith are 9 to 6 with him getting home sometime between 8 and 9, depending on the day. On this particular day, he switched shifts with a videographer from the night shift, so the day of the concert he had to get up at 2 a.m. and be to work by 4. By the time he got home it was two in the afternoon, so he only had time for a short nap before they had to leave the house again. Between the Diet Mt. Dew, caffeine pills and caffeine gum, he was determined to take Christine to the concert and they were going to have a great time.
Naturally, I was worried the entire time they were gone. I worried that Keith hadn’t had enough rest. I worried they would be in a wreck or worse. Normally, when there is a concert, I would be with Keith and Christine, but recently, my anxiety has been preventing me from being in large groups of people. I don’t know why I worry more about them when I’m not with them than I do when I’m with them. Does that make sense?
Anyway, I got a voice mail from Keith about 8:30, and they were already at the arena and they were already talking with some members of the band. It sounded like they were having a great time. I couldn’t wait until they got back home to tell me the whole story.
While they were gone, I worked in the yard. I’m totally seeing my front garden in a new light. The front yard garden should be very eye catching and contain samples of plantings from all over my yard. I learned this recently when I was admiring a new spring store display at the Shaker Village Craft Store. The wonderful display was fresh and pretty and put me in the mood to redecorate. To the average customer, this is just a pretty display set up for people to look at, but working behind the scenes, I realized, this display exhibited a wide range of the items sold in the gift shop.
This is how I see my yard—a one acre lot surrounded by native shrubbery with numerouse gardens interspersed throughout. I have a shoe garden, a rock garden, a prayer garden, a veggie garden, a treehouse garden; I could go on and on. So, my front garden should be a colleage of all the gardens on our property. I settled in for an afternoon of planning, dreaming and digging in the front garden. Little did I know that another family would greatly limite my ability to concentrate on particular areas of the front garden.
The Robin family had decided the make the English Ivy growing up the anchoring wire to a utitlity pole near out mailbox their home for the summer. I first discovered the nest when Kieth was helping me prune the ivy into shape. I want the ivy to grow all the way up the wire, but it has stopped half way up and is now growing back down to the ground. This makes a wonderful cascade of English ivy, but it needed the dead wood removed and be pruned into shape. Keith pointed out the next to me while I was up on the ladder, so I had the bird’s eye view—four baby blule Roin eggs tucked all together in the next. I immediately quite pruning the ivy; that project will just have to wait until the baby’s have flown the nest.
I remember the summer of Junie B. Jones—the mother wren that raised her young ones in the hanging basket on our front porch—and I started to get warm fuzzy thoughts about how much fun Christine and I had while watching the life span of her children. This year, Christine is too old to have much interest in the gardens, so I’m usually alone in the garden with no one to enjoy the little treasures I discover every time I am outside. But that’s okay, I still enjoy being outdoors and maybe one day, I’ll have grandkids to enjoy the gardens with. I decided that I would chronicle the lives of Ms. Robin and her family
© Bobbi Rightmyer, July 2006
Because the concert was on a Friday night, it was still a work day for Keith. Normal work days for Keith are 9 to 6 with him getting home sometime between 8 and 9, depending on the day. On this particular day, he switched shifts with a videographer from the night shift, so the day of the concert he had to get up at 2 a.m. and be to work by 4. By the time he got home it was two in the afternoon, so he only had time for a short nap before they had to leave the house again. Between the Diet Mt. Dew, caffeine pills and caffeine gum, he was determined to take Christine to the concert and they were going to have a great time.
Naturally, I was worried the entire time they were gone. I worried that Keith hadn’t had enough rest. I worried they would be in a wreck or worse. Normally, when there is a concert, I would be with Keith and Christine, but recently, my anxiety has been preventing me from being in large groups of people. I don’t know why I worry more about them when I’m not with them than I do when I’m with them. Does that make sense?
Anyway, I got a voice mail from Keith about 8:30, and they were already at the arena and they were already talking with some members of the band. It sounded like they were having a great time. I couldn’t wait until they got back home to tell me the whole story.
While they were gone, I worked in the yard. I’m totally seeing my front garden in a new light. The front yard garden should be very eye catching and contain samples of plantings from all over my yard. I learned this recently when I was admiring a new spring store display at the Shaker Village Craft Store. The wonderful display was fresh and pretty and put me in the mood to redecorate. To the average customer, this is just a pretty display set up for people to look at, but working behind the scenes, I realized, this display exhibited a wide range of the items sold in the gift shop.
This is how I see my yard—a one acre lot surrounded by native shrubbery with numerouse gardens interspersed throughout. I have a shoe garden, a rock garden, a prayer garden, a veggie garden, a treehouse garden; I could go on and on. So, my front garden should be a colleage of all the gardens on our property. I settled in for an afternoon of planning, dreaming and digging in the front garden. Little did I know that another family would greatly limite my ability to concentrate on particular areas of the front garden.
The Robin family had decided the make the English Ivy growing up the anchoring wire to a utitlity pole near out mailbox their home for the summer. I first discovered the nest when Kieth was helping me prune the ivy into shape. I want the ivy to grow all the way up the wire, but it has stopped half way up and is now growing back down to the ground. This makes a wonderful cascade of English ivy, but it needed the dead wood removed and be pruned into shape. Keith pointed out the next to me while I was up on the ladder, so I had the bird’s eye view—four baby blule Roin eggs tucked all together in the next. I immediately quite pruning the ivy; that project will just have to wait until the baby’s have flown the nest.
I remember the summer of Junie B. Jones—the mother wren that raised her young ones in the hanging basket on our front porch—and I started to get warm fuzzy thoughts about how much fun Christine and I had while watching the life span of her children. This year, Christine is too old to have much interest in the gardens, so I’m usually alone in the garden with no one to enjoy the little treasures I discover every time I am outside. But that’s okay, I still enjoy being outdoors and maybe one day, I’ll have grandkids to enjoy the gardens with. I decided that I would chronicle the lives of Ms. Robin and her family
© Bobbi Rightmyer, July 2006
Thursday, June 8, 2006
Pippin
Our family recently added a new member to our fold and our lives have been turned upside down—literally. Pippin is the new family dog, an Australian Shepherd mix, who was eight weeks old when she came to live with us in April. It did not take long for Pippin to wiggle her way into our hearts, but we forgot how much work a puppy can actually be.
Since we lost Pebbles at the first of the year, our life has had a small void we had not been able to fill. We did not want to jump right into having another dog, so Christine had been researching dog breeds to try and find the perfect dog for our family. She had narrowed her choices down to a Chow or an Australian Shepherd; they are supposed to be excellent family dogs. Christine was adamant that she wanted a larger dog, like Pebbles was. She loves her Nana and Papa’s Yorkie—Tyler—and her cousin Ethan’s dauchsand—Ellie—Christine had her heart set on a dog that could run with her in the yard and go on long walks.
My main requirement for a dog was one that was easily house-broken and would be a great guard dog. I always felt safe at home alone with Pebbles, because she was alert to strangers and anything out of the ordinary. I think Keith’s main requirement was to have a dog that was easily trainable and would come whenever he would whistle. Even though our hearts ached for Pebbles, we wanted to take our time before jumping in with a new dog.
That is, until one weekday when I was home alone and I received a terrible scare. I had worked nine days in a row with no days off, so I was spending my only day off cleaning house. It was late afternoon on a Wednesday and I was up on the step ladder cleaning out the top cabinets in my kitchen, when the doorbell rang. Since I’m not used to having company during the week, I couldn’t imagine who could be at the door. I climbed down off the ladder and brushed my hands on my dirty house-cleaning clothes as I walked to the front door.
When I opened the door, my stomach knotted up and I had a hundred thoughts go through my head—all in the matter of two or three seconds. The person at my door was someone from my sister’s past, and definitely not the person I wanted to see at my door. I went from shock to terror to hysteria all in the matter of those few seconds. I didn’t know if this person had a gun or knife—I thought he was going to kill me. My brain could not comprehend that this person had the nerve to show up at my house. I had the screen door locked and I was screaming at this person to get away from me and my house. I was in a state of panic and all I could keep thinking was that if Pebbles were still alive, she would have torn into him. Pebbles never did like this person and she had scared him away from the house several times over the past few years.
The man did leave without causing any problems, but I was still hysterical. I ran around the house to make sure all the doors and windows were locked, and it took me two tries to finally dial Keith’s phone number. He was able to calm me down slightly on the phone—at least I was able to talk without crying when we finally hung up the phone. It was time for Christine to be getting home from school, so I drove my car to the bus stop because I was afraid for her to walk the short distance to our home. Once she was in the car safely, we went to my mom’s to spend the rest of the afternoon. When we left mom’s house, I took Christine to the Mercer Public Library and she checked out two books—one on Chows and one on Australian Shepherds.
I truly believe in Divine intervention and if God wants something to happen for a family then everything will fall into place. I think God knew how scared I was without a guard dog, so he set a series of things into motion. Number one, the books Christine checked out of the library. Number two, the next day, I got to watch the Noon News while eating lunch and WLEX always has a dog from the Humane Society at the end of the 12:30. Guess what kind of dog was featured on this particular day? An Australia Shepherd puppy. During that one moment, I realized that God was pointing out the next Rightmyer dog. I immediately called Keith at work, but as luck would have it, he was not at the TV station to see the puppy. He did call the Humane Society and found out that out of a litter of eight, they had four of the puppies ready for adoption. Even though Keith had to jump through a bunch of hoops that day, God seemed to be lending a hand because each time Keith thought the puppy adoption would not go through, another option would present itself.
So, twenty four hours after the scare of my life, our family was the proud owner of a new puppy. I know it will be a year or more before Pippin will become a guard dog, just having another dog in the house already makes me feel at ease. Christine has taken over the main duties of caring for and training up Pippin, but Keith and I still have to “baby-sit” because we all forgot how much energy a little puppy can have.
As the three of us get used to sharing our home with our new four legged friend, there are three other members of our home that are having a little more difficulty adjusting. Mudball and—Earl or Frankie, depending on if you’re talking to Keith or Christine—are our two male cats, who are brothers that turned a year old in April. They are adjusting more smoothly than our older cat, Sassy. She has been the rule of the roost and it takes her much longer to warm up to new people, or in our case, a new pet. For the first two weeks, Sassy spent most of her days in the bathroom, hiding from the world. She would only venture out after Pippin had gone to bed with Christine.
A new puppy in the house, maybe we are crazy, but I like to think that it was Divine intervention. God seemed to know that there was something missing in our lives and our home. Christine now has a new best friend and we have a guard dog in training. All is right with the world, but if you’ll excuse me, Pippin is chewing on my work shoes again.
© Bobbi Rightmyer, June 2006
Since we lost Pebbles at the first of the year, our life has had a small void we had not been able to fill. We did not want to jump right into having another dog, so Christine had been researching dog breeds to try and find the perfect dog for our family. She had narrowed her choices down to a Chow or an Australian Shepherd; they are supposed to be excellent family dogs. Christine was adamant that she wanted a larger dog, like Pebbles was. She loves her Nana and Papa’s Yorkie—Tyler—and her cousin Ethan’s dauchsand—Ellie—Christine had her heart set on a dog that could run with her in the yard and go on long walks.
My main requirement for a dog was one that was easily house-broken and would be a great guard dog. I always felt safe at home alone with Pebbles, because she was alert to strangers and anything out of the ordinary. I think Keith’s main requirement was to have a dog that was easily trainable and would come whenever he would whistle. Even though our hearts ached for Pebbles, we wanted to take our time before jumping in with a new dog.
That is, until one weekday when I was home alone and I received a terrible scare. I had worked nine days in a row with no days off, so I was spending my only day off cleaning house. It was late afternoon on a Wednesday and I was up on the step ladder cleaning out the top cabinets in my kitchen, when the doorbell rang. Since I’m not used to having company during the week, I couldn’t imagine who could be at the door. I climbed down off the ladder and brushed my hands on my dirty house-cleaning clothes as I walked to the front door.
When I opened the door, my stomach knotted up and I had a hundred thoughts go through my head—all in the matter of two or three seconds. The person at my door was someone from my sister’s past, and definitely not the person I wanted to see at my door. I went from shock to terror to hysteria all in the matter of those few seconds. I didn’t know if this person had a gun or knife—I thought he was going to kill me. My brain could not comprehend that this person had the nerve to show up at my house. I had the screen door locked and I was screaming at this person to get away from me and my house. I was in a state of panic and all I could keep thinking was that if Pebbles were still alive, she would have torn into him. Pebbles never did like this person and she had scared him away from the house several times over the past few years.
The man did leave without causing any problems, but I was still hysterical. I ran around the house to make sure all the doors and windows were locked, and it took me two tries to finally dial Keith’s phone number. He was able to calm me down slightly on the phone—at least I was able to talk without crying when we finally hung up the phone. It was time for Christine to be getting home from school, so I drove my car to the bus stop because I was afraid for her to walk the short distance to our home. Once she was in the car safely, we went to my mom’s to spend the rest of the afternoon. When we left mom’s house, I took Christine to the Mercer Public Library and she checked out two books—one on Chows and one on Australian Shepherds.
I truly believe in Divine intervention and if God wants something to happen for a family then everything will fall into place. I think God knew how scared I was without a guard dog, so he set a series of things into motion. Number one, the books Christine checked out of the library. Number two, the next day, I got to watch the Noon News while eating lunch and WLEX always has a dog from the Humane Society at the end of the 12:30. Guess what kind of dog was featured on this particular day? An Australia Shepherd puppy. During that one moment, I realized that God was pointing out the next Rightmyer dog. I immediately called Keith at work, but as luck would have it, he was not at the TV station to see the puppy. He did call the Humane Society and found out that out of a litter of eight, they had four of the puppies ready for adoption. Even though Keith had to jump through a bunch of hoops that day, God seemed to be lending a hand because each time Keith thought the puppy adoption would not go through, another option would present itself.
So, twenty four hours after the scare of my life, our family was the proud owner of a new puppy. I know it will be a year or more before Pippin will become a guard dog, just having another dog in the house already makes me feel at ease. Christine has taken over the main duties of caring for and training up Pippin, but Keith and I still have to “baby-sit” because we all forgot how much energy a little puppy can have.
As the three of us get used to sharing our home with our new four legged friend, there are three other members of our home that are having a little more difficulty adjusting. Mudball and—Earl or Frankie, depending on if you’re talking to Keith or Christine—are our two male cats, who are brothers that turned a year old in April. They are adjusting more smoothly than our older cat, Sassy. She has been the rule of the roost and it takes her much longer to warm up to new people, or in our case, a new pet. For the first two weeks, Sassy spent most of her days in the bathroom, hiding from the world. She would only venture out after Pippin had gone to bed with Christine.
A new puppy in the house, maybe we are crazy, but I like to think that it was Divine intervention. God seemed to know that there was something missing in our lives and our home. Christine now has a new best friend and we have a guard dog in training. All is right with the world, but if you’ll excuse me, Pippin is chewing on my work shoes again.
© Bobbi Rightmyer, June 2006
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Mrs. Robin Red-Breast
Keith and Christine recently had a special “daddy-daughter” date night by going to Cincinnati to see a rock concert. Sugarcult—Christine’s current favorite bands—was playing at a small college and tickets were very reasonably priced. Christine was so excited, and Keith went through pure heck to be able to take her.
Because the concert was on a Friday night, it was still a work day for Keith. Normal workdays for Keith are mornings with him getting home sometime between 8 and 9, depending on the day. On this particular day, he switched shifts with a videographer from the night shift, so the day of the concert he had to get up at 2 a.m. and be to work by 4. By the time he got home it was two in the afternoon, so he only had time for a short nap before they had to leave the house again. Between the Diet Mt. Dew, caffeine pills and caffeine gum, he was determined to take Christine to the concert and they were going to have a great time.
Naturally, I was worried the entire time they were gone. I worried that Keith hadn’t had enough rest. I worried they would be in a wreck or worse. Normally, when there is a concert, I would be with Keith and Christine, but recently, my anxiety has been preventing me from being in large groups of people. I don’t know why I worry more about them when I’m not with them than I do when I’m with them. Does that make sense?
Anyway, I got a voice mail from Keith about 8:30, and they were already at the arena and they were already talking with some members of the band. It sounded like they were having a great time. I couldn’t wait until they got back home to tell me the whole story
While they were gone, I worked in the yard. I’m totally seeing my front garden in a new light. The front yard garden should be very eye-catching and contain samples of plantings from all over my yard. I learned this recently when I was admiring a new spring store display at the Shaker Village Craft Store. The wonderful display was fresh and pretty and put me in the mood to redecorate. To the average customer, this is just a pretty display set up for people to look at, but working behind the scenes, I realized, this display exhibited a wide range of the items sold in the gift shop.
This is how I see my yard—a one acre lot surrounded by native shrubbery with numerous gardens interspersed throughout. I have a shoe garden, a rock garden, a prayer garden, a veggie garden, a treehouse garden; I could go on and on. So, my front garden should be a collage of all the gardens on our property. I settled in for an afternoon of planning, dreaming and digging in the dirt. Little did I know that another family would greatly limit my ability to concentrate on particular areas of the front garden.
The Robin family had decided to make the English Ivy growing up the anchoring wire to a utility pole near our mailbox their home for the summer. I first discovered the nest when Keith was helping me prune the ivy into shape. I want the ivy to grow all the way up the wire, but it has stopped halfway up and is now growing back down to the ground. This makes a wonderful cascade of English ivy, but I wanted the dead wood removed and it needed to be pruned into shape. Keith pointed out the nest to me while I was up on the ladder, so I had the bird’s eye view—four baby blue robin eggs tucked all together in the next. I immediately quit pruning the ivy; that project will just have to wait until the babies have flown the nest.
I remember the summer of Junie B. Jones—the mother wren that raised her young ones in the hanging basket on our front porch—and I started to get warm fuzzy thoughts about how much fun Christine and I had while watching the life span of the wren’s children. This year, Christine is too old to have much interest in the gardens, so I’m usually alone in the garden with no one to enjoy the little treasures I discover every time I am outside. But that’s okay, I still enjoy being outdoors and maybe one day, I’ll have grandkids to enjoy the gardens with. I decided that I would chronicle the lives of Ms. Robin and her family.
Two weeks after finding the robin’s nest with eggs, three of the eggs hatched. The little featherless birds were so ugly and so totally dependent on their mother and father. The good thing about robins is that the pair of them helps with the baby care. With most other birds, the male leaves the care of babies to the mother. Both mother and father would chirp noisily at me every time I would come near the nest. I had to limit my gardening to small spurts, whenever Mr. and Mrs. Robin were not feeding the little ones.
After the first week, there were only two babies left. I never did find out what happened to the third baby. There was no sign of it falling out of the nest, so I guess I’ll never know what happened. Now there are just the two babies and I can see growth in them every day. The ugly little babies from a few weeks ago have now turned into miniature versions of their parents. Their feathers have come in and every time something comes near the nest, they start to chirp and open their little beaks for food. They really are cute now.
I am sure there are more robin families in my gardens because I’ve noticed several of them chirping loudly at me when I’m working in the yard. I usually don’t go looking for the nests, but occasionally, like the one in the ivy, I will happen upon one during my work in the garden. I think they are finally getting used to me being around, because now whenever I sit down to rest, the robins will peck at the ground looking for worms or nesting materials. They are so cute when they cock their little heads and look at you.
When you are planning a new garden, think about planting for the birds. Bird watching is a wonderful way to pass a quiet evening. It is calming and relaxing to just sit and listen to the different songs each bird makes, to watch them splashing around in a birdbath, or even flitting through the sprinklers. Now if you will excuse me, I think I’ll go do some bird watching.
[PS: since this article was written at the end of May, I have had four other Robin families give birth. Watching these babies was as much fun as watching the first ones!}
© Bobbi Rightmyer, May 2006
Because the concert was on a Friday night, it was still a work day for Keith. Normal workdays for Keith are mornings with him getting home sometime between 8 and 9, depending on the day. On this particular day, he switched shifts with a videographer from the night shift, so the day of the concert he had to get up at 2 a.m. and be to work by 4. By the time he got home it was two in the afternoon, so he only had time for a short nap before they had to leave the house again. Between the Diet Mt. Dew, caffeine pills and caffeine gum, he was determined to take Christine to the concert and they were going to have a great time.
Naturally, I was worried the entire time they were gone. I worried that Keith hadn’t had enough rest. I worried they would be in a wreck or worse. Normally, when there is a concert, I would be with Keith and Christine, but recently, my anxiety has been preventing me from being in large groups of people. I don’t know why I worry more about them when I’m not with them than I do when I’m with them. Does that make sense?
Anyway, I got a voice mail from Keith about 8:30, and they were already at the arena and they were already talking with some members of the band. It sounded like they were having a great time. I couldn’t wait until they got back home to tell me the whole story
While they were gone, I worked in the yard. I’m totally seeing my front garden in a new light. The front yard garden should be very eye-catching and contain samples of plantings from all over my yard. I learned this recently when I was admiring a new spring store display at the Shaker Village Craft Store. The wonderful display was fresh and pretty and put me in the mood to redecorate. To the average customer, this is just a pretty display set up for people to look at, but working behind the scenes, I realized, this display exhibited a wide range of the items sold in the gift shop.
This is how I see my yard—a one acre lot surrounded by native shrubbery with numerous gardens interspersed throughout. I have a shoe garden, a rock garden, a prayer garden, a veggie garden, a treehouse garden; I could go on and on. So, my front garden should be a collage of all the gardens on our property. I settled in for an afternoon of planning, dreaming and digging in the dirt. Little did I know that another family would greatly limit my ability to concentrate on particular areas of the front garden.
The Robin family had decided to make the English Ivy growing up the anchoring wire to a utility pole near our mailbox their home for the summer. I first discovered the nest when Keith was helping me prune the ivy into shape. I want the ivy to grow all the way up the wire, but it has stopped halfway up and is now growing back down to the ground. This makes a wonderful cascade of English ivy, but I wanted the dead wood removed and it needed to be pruned into shape. Keith pointed out the nest to me while I was up on the ladder, so I had the bird’s eye view—four baby blue robin eggs tucked all together in the next. I immediately quit pruning the ivy; that project will just have to wait until the babies have flown the nest.
I remember the summer of Junie B. Jones—the mother wren that raised her young ones in the hanging basket on our front porch—and I started to get warm fuzzy thoughts about how much fun Christine and I had while watching the life span of the wren’s children. This year, Christine is too old to have much interest in the gardens, so I’m usually alone in the garden with no one to enjoy the little treasures I discover every time I am outside. But that’s okay, I still enjoy being outdoors and maybe one day, I’ll have grandkids to enjoy the gardens with. I decided that I would chronicle the lives of Ms. Robin and her family.
Two weeks after finding the robin’s nest with eggs, three of the eggs hatched. The little featherless birds were so ugly and so totally dependent on their mother and father. The good thing about robins is that the pair of them helps with the baby care. With most other birds, the male leaves the care of babies to the mother. Both mother and father would chirp noisily at me every time I would come near the nest. I had to limit my gardening to small spurts, whenever Mr. and Mrs. Robin were not feeding the little ones.
After the first week, there were only two babies left. I never did find out what happened to the third baby. There was no sign of it falling out of the nest, so I guess I’ll never know what happened. Now there are just the two babies and I can see growth in them every day. The ugly little babies from a few weeks ago have now turned into miniature versions of their parents. Their feathers have come in and every time something comes near the nest, they start to chirp and open their little beaks for food. They really are cute now.
I am sure there are more robin families in my gardens because I’ve noticed several of them chirping loudly at me when I’m working in the yard. I usually don’t go looking for the nests, but occasionally, like the one in the ivy, I will happen upon one during my work in the garden. I think they are finally getting used to me being around, because now whenever I sit down to rest, the robins will peck at the ground looking for worms or nesting materials. They are so cute when they cock their little heads and look at you.
When you are planning a new garden, think about planting for the birds. Bird watching is a wonderful way to pass a quiet evening. It is calming and relaxing to just sit and listen to the different songs each bird makes, to watch them splashing around in a birdbath, or even flitting through the sprinklers. Now if you will excuse me, I think I’ll go do some bird watching.
[PS: since this article was written at the end of May, I have had four other Robin families give birth. Watching these babies was as much fun as watching the first ones!}
© Bobbi Rightmyer, May 2006
Friday, April 28, 2006
Pebbles
The loss of a family pet can have a major impact on the entire family. It is like losing a member of the family. Recently, our family experienced the death of our beloved dog, Pebbles. Although we have lost many pets over the years—mice, hamsters, fish, gerbils, iguana, cats—losing Pebbles was the first dog Christine had ever lost and she was taking it very hard.
Pebbles was adopted from the Mercer County Humane Society over ten years ago—Christine was about three at the time, so the two of them have grown up together. Pebbles was a Sheltie-mix and she was approximately one year old when she came to live with us. Keith had seen a picture of this cute dog in the Harrodsburg Herald and the next day he and Christine went to check it out. It was love at first sight and they adopted her on the spot. He took a picture of Pebbles to bring home and show the rest of the family because it would be two days before she was ready to come home.
Christine picked out the name Pebbles after the Flintstone’s Pebbles and Bam-Bam. Amber and Marie were also excited about the new addition to the family; they had been wanting a dog and we just kept putting it off because we had an indoor cat. Pogo was Keith’s cat and she didn’t warm up to new people or animals easily. After Keith and I got married, it took a long time before Amber and Marie were able to even get near Pogo to pet her, much less pick her up. We were afraid a dog would throw her into shock. We lost Pogo over four years ago—she was over 18-years-old.
It didn’t take Pebbles long to become one of the family. She was most attracted to Marie, although she loved to be around all of us. After the first few weeks, Pebbles was not the same skinny dog we had originally brought home. She was happy and healthy and had put on some weight. Apparently, Pebbles had come from an abusive situation, because she had a tendency to “cow down” whenever anyone raised their voice.
I could never get Pebbles to come to me when I would call for her—she always seemed to run in the opposite direction when I would call her. But she would always come to Keith’s call or whistle. Pebbles would do almost anything Keith would tell her to do, with the exception of getting her to stay down at meal time.
Pebbles loved table scraps and she was not above begging everyone for a bite. We knew table scraps were probably not good for her, but she loved them so much. We also had a hard time keeping her out of the cat food, even though she always had food in her dish—she would always sneak back and finish up whatever the cats had not eaten.
Even though she would not come to me when I called her, Pebbles would follow me around the house like a shadow. Whenever I was home she would slept at my feet or follow me from room to room—even the bathroom. Pebbles could be a nuisance at times, but we all loved her and we could tell that she loved us.
Pebbles would get so excited when it was time to go outside. She would jump and prance around the door waiting for someone to open it. Then she would charge out the door like the Calvary coming to the rescue. She would run several laps around the front yard just as fast as her legs would let her. She would sometimes bark and root her nose into the ground. We still have a few bare spots in the yard from where Pebbles got so excited.
Pebbles was a wonderful guard dog because she would bark at any noise she would hear outside. Once she became used to friends or relatives coming to visit, she would become excited to she them—running to the person or trying to jump up on them. The jumping up on people was something we were still working on with Pebbles, but we weren’t having much success.
Over the past few years, Christine and Pebbles became the best of friends and you could tell they loved being with each other. Sometimes Christine would but the leash on Pebbles’ collar and take her for a walk, other times they would just run and romp in the backyard or the back field. I can still see Christine rolling around on the lawn with Pebbles jumping on her, trying to lick her face.
Although we still have three indoor cats, Christine misses Pebbles and she has started to talk about finding a replacement dog. Although there is no substitute for Pebbles, it would be nice to have another guard dog. We are trying to put Christine off—we want her to get over the initial shock of losing her first dog before we try and become attached to another one.
Pebbles is buried in our pet cemetery, along with Pogo the cat, Tully the bird and Snowball the rabbit. I will occasionally see Christine near the pet cemetery and my heart aches for her sadness. Although we all miss Pebbles and I know one day we will have another dog, there will never be a replacement for Pebbles. She will always remain in our hearts.
© Bobbi Rightmyer, April 2006
Pebbles was adopted from the Mercer County Humane Society over ten years ago—Christine was about three at the time, so the two of them have grown up together. Pebbles was a Sheltie-mix and she was approximately one year old when she came to live with us. Keith had seen a picture of this cute dog in the Harrodsburg Herald and the next day he and Christine went to check it out. It was love at first sight and they adopted her on the spot. He took a picture of Pebbles to bring home and show the rest of the family because it would be two days before she was ready to come home.
Christine picked out the name Pebbles after the Flintstone’s Pebbles and Bam-Bam. Amber and Marie were also excited about the new addition to the family; they had been wanting a dog and we just kept putting it off because we had an indoor cat. Pogo was Keith’s cat and she didn’t warm up to new people or animals easily. After Keith and I got married, it took a long time before Amber and Marie were able to even get near Pogo to pet her, much less pick her up. We were afraid a dog would throw her into shock. We lost Pogo over four years ago—she was over 18-years-old.
It didn’t take Pebbles long to become one of the family. She was most attracted to Marie, although she loved to be around all of us. After the first few weeks, Pebbles was not the same skinny dog we had originally brought home. She was happy and healthy and had put on some weight. Apparently, Pebbles had come from an abusive situation, because she had a tendency to “cow down” whenever anyone raised their voice.
I could never get Pebbles to come to me when I would call for her—she always seemed to run in the opposite direction when I would call her. But she would always come to Keith’s call or whistle. Pebbles would do almost anything Keith would tell her to do, with the exception of getting her to stay down at meal time.
Pebbles loved table scraps and she was not above begging everyone for a bite. We knew table scraps were probably not good for her, but she loved them so much. We also had a hard time keeping her out of the cat food, even though she always had food in her dish—she would always sneak back and finish up whatever the cats had not eaten.
Even though she would not come to me when I called her, Pebbles would follow me around the house like a shadow. Whenever I was home she would slept at my feet or follow me from room to room—even the bathroom. Pebbles could be a nuisance at times, but we all loved her and we could tell that she loved us.
Pebbles would get so excited when it was time to go outside. She would jump and prance around the door waiting for someone to open it. Then she would charge out the door like the Calvary coming to the rescue. She would run several laps around the front yard just as fast as her legs would let her. She would sometimes bark and root her nose into the ground. We still have a few bare spots in the yard from where Pebbles got so excited.
Pebbles was a wonderful guard dog because she would bark at any noise she would hear outside. Once she became used to friends or relatives coming to visit, she would become excited to she them—running to the person or trying to jump up on them. The jumping up on people was something we were still working on with Pebbles, but we weren’t having much success.
Over the past few years, Christine and Pebbles became the best of friends and you could tell they loved being with each other. Sometimes Christine would but the leash on Pebbles’ collar and take her for a walk, other times they would just run and romp in the backyard or the back field. I can still see Christine rolling around on the lawn with Pebbles jumping on her, trying to lick her face.
Although we still have three indoor cats, Christine misses Pebbles and she has started to talk about finding a replacement dog. Although there is no substitute for Pebbles, it would be nice to have another guard dog. We are trying to put Christine off—we want her to get over the initial shock of losing her first dog before we try and become attached to another one.
Pebbles is buried in our pet cemetery, along with Pogo the cat, Tully the bird and Snowball the rabbit. I will occasionally see Christine near the pet cemetery and my heart aches for her sadness. Although we all miss Pebbles and I know one day we will have another dog, there will never be a replacement for Pebbles. She will always remain in our hearts.
© Bobbi Rightmyer, April 2006
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