Grateful for wonderful parents- here's to their 60th anniversary today

Today is my parents' 60th wedding anniversary.  Though they moved to Heaven 8 years ago, I think of them every day and today I am toasting them in my heart and hoping they are celebrating.

They were a funny pair.  Both the same height so mom never wore much in the way of high heels.  Dad was quiet, the engineer.  Mom was the person that talked to strangers in the produce section.  He rarely let out what he was thinking.  You ALWAYS knew what her opinion was!

She told me it snowed on their wedding day.

They produced me, the oldest, and my brother who is 4 years younger.  I did the "math" once and figured out mom got pregnant with both of us on their wedding anniversary.  She would never confirm that of course.  And of course those were the only two "times" it happened :)

They gave me an amazing, blessed life.  And shaped me into who I am.

Mom stayed home with us till I was out of high school and went back to work.  Home cooked dinner every night at 5:30.  She taught me to sew and she made my clothes.  She taught me to speak French from a cool workbook she found at a book sale.  She taught me to read from a cool workbook when I was 3. She taught me about art and started my love of Degas and Monet.  She taught me about gardening and started my passion for that and all things green.  I would get huge packages at college of new outfits she made me.  She taught me to dress with class.  (I say as I sit and type in sweats and a t-shirt.  Sorry mom!)

She was a great cook and baker.

When I cleaned out the home I grew up in after they died, I found a set of braids and two pony tails in an envelope.  The braids were about 18" long.  They were hers and she had kept them when she cut her hair off at 13.  The one pony tail was mine when she cut my hair off at 6 into the infamous pixie cut.  The other was when I cut my hair off my freshman year of college.

So I started growing my hair out and in honor of her 80th birthday a couple of years ago, I donated mine and the braids and two pony tails to Locks of Love in her name.  She would have liked that...wait, she does like that :)

She had broken hearts when I did and was thrilled when I was.  We had a tough relationship at times but she was the mom who helped me be what I hope is viewed as a good woman today.

My daddy...the first love of my life.  And my rock.  And my guardian.

My first date...he told me that he wanted me to make sure the young man came in so he could meet him.  The doorbell rang, I answered and ushered him in.  It was to a dance so there was the delivery of flowers as he walked in the door.  And then I moved to take him around the corner into the den to meet my daddy.

And there he was, sitting in his big chair.  With a shotgun in his arms running a cleaning rod in and out of it.  And our enormous dog, who didn't like men, on a leash sitting next to him.  "You'll have her home by midnight, WON'T YOU SON?"

I was home by 11 and single until I was 37.

I loved every moment with him.

When I was little he would park me on a stool in his workshop to help him load ammo (he shot trap) and had me tap powder and primers into shells.  He taught me how to fire a 9MM before I could drive a car.  He taught me how to shoot trap.  He taught me how to love geometry and physics (hated algebra word problems though.)

He helped me catch butterflies for my collection.  And he taught me how to love beer :)  Now there is a great dad for you!

I was home one weekend when I was in my 30s and was standing behind him talking to him and he did not respond. I tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he had his hearing aids in so he could hear me.  The response was NO.  I asked why not.  His response..."Well your mother is home!!!"

He never lost his sense of humor even when Alzheimers started moving in...

My last visit was with him in a nursing home.  Though he was cared for, I never want anyone to have to go through living there.  Never.

I took Maya to meet him, we had just gotten her a few weeks before.  She ran into daddy's room and jumped onto his bed where he was just up from a nap.  "SHE'S NEW!"  This was nothing short of a miracle because the disease had left his mind pretty sharp but taken his speech almost completely.  It broke my heart he could no longer call me SalGal as he had for my entire life.  But now when I tugged on her leash to get her to jump down..."DON'T HURT HER!"  I left him to cuddle her :)

I got him up to watch TV...football.  Mom would not let sports be watched on TV so he and I would sneak in a Blackhawks hockey game on TV in a rare moment but that was about it.  So I got him into his chair and turned on the Wisconsin Badgers (we are huge fans) vs. Penn State.  I explained that we needed this win to get to a bowl game and Penn State was undefeated.  He nodded that he understood.  The twinkle in his eye always told me he still recognized me and knew what I was saying.

Maya was laying on the bed, started to "fluff" the covers to make herself a spot to lay.  As I turned to watch her, I heard daddy shout "OH SHIT!"  I turned to find him pointing at the TV where Penn State had just scored :)

I loved it.  The comment and the football together.

I said to him "You can say that but can't say my name?"  He shrugged his shoulders and let out a little giggle.  But that was the best "OH SHIT" I've ever heard in my life!

He stood with me at a parade in downtown Chicago that was honoring Viet Nam vets one warm May afternoon.  I pulled his arm to cross the street between marching bands and he would not move.  He was staring up at a man and had tears in his eyes.  My dad NEVER cried.  What was this about?  I took the cue and stayed until the parade passed and he was ready to move.  I asked him what upset him...

He said "Did you see that blue ribbon and medal around his neck?"  I had not.  He said, "That is the Congressional Medal of Honor and what he had to do to earn that is something you and I will never have to suffer."  He explained that many earn it posthumously.  I was humbled and understood the tears then.

He was fiercely patriotic.  And I know he loved the military salute at his grave and hearing a bugler play taps for him.

I could tell stories about them forever.  They were amazing parents.  I realized the love they had when I found that mom had saved every letter he wrote her from his Army service days and every card he had given her, when I cleaned out the house.  She only lasted 6 months after he was gone...

They still are amazing parents, guiding me in a different way and different place now.

I am so grateful for Harley Jr. and Mary Jane Field.  I hope they know how much they are loved and missed so much.

Happy 60th anniversary Mom and Daddy, I love you to the moon and back :)

Grateful for times of pure joy and bliss...

In my last post I wrote about learning to row.  We are about to close out our season now and will clean the boathouse and put the boats to bed for the winter next weekend.  I had what will probably be my last row of the season Sunday morning and it was AMAZING.

FREEZING COLD, but amazing in the least.

It was 35 degrees air temp and clear as a bell outside.  Saturday was so warm that I planted bulbs in my shirt sleeves :)  So it was brutal Sunday morning standing nearly knee deep putting the Willow (the boats all have names) in the water.

Since the water is so cold now, we have to stay close to each other, close to shore and keep watch on each other.  There were 9 of us this morning; a quad, two doubles and a single.  Each boat beyond a single has to have a person who is "bow certified" to ensure the safety of boat and rowers.

I got the luck of the draw and got my pal Cruise Director.

Since I don't put people's names in here to be respectful, I hope she's OK with that moniker, it is one of affection.  And we also make a good team in other ways because we are the same build (good in the boats for a number of reasons) and we share a passion for rescue and dogs.  She's a teacher, I was and will always be one at heart.  So we are congruent in more than just rowing.

Water like glass, trees just moving toward winter except for the red oaks who drop leaves late.  Sky as blue as it can be.  Quiet except for us on the river...the rowing and sometimes the laughter and talk along the way.

And it felt amazing.

I have not been rowing as much as my husband.  It is an early morning sport and I am NOT early morning.  On the summer mornings I am down there to put in at 5:30 (his preferred hour) I am not the one to engage in conversation and not one to get my act completely together well.  Like the morning I rowed into the pond and discovered I had the oar locks backwards.  You can row, but not far and not well...  So early mornings are not my forte.  And on our river, if you are not off the river by about 9 AM the idiots are out and they do not care if they race with their wakes or jet ski around you.

Rowing a toothpick in that as a relative newbie, not fun.  :P

So later summer and fall rowing later in the morning and the many late afternoon/early evenings we have been out have been my delight!  Sunday was no exception.

I felt like I had a spot...you know where it feels like it's falling into place?  And this is a sport that takes time for some (like me) to get it in the spot.  Slide felt good, squaring blades along with her felt good, stroke felt good, I wasn't tired despite we went the same distance as the other day, approximately 8.1KM.

AMAZING...

We enjoyed the row, we enjoyed each other, we took in the beauty of what has been the most beautiful autumn in the 20 years I've lived here.  It was spectacular.

When we came under the bridge into the pond on the last stretch to take the boats in and be done, there was an eagle hunting.  To my heartache, he was hunting baby coots (little birds) in the water instead of fish.  He soared, he dove, he moved in such majesty that the 3 of us stopped and quietly watched his movement and hunt.

When he obtained breakfast, he swam it to shore instead of flying off.  That was a spectacle as well.  Watching this huge, majestic bird flap his wings and get his prey onto the beach.  We rowed closer to watch him pluck the feathers from breakfast and heard him chirp warning.

Sad as it was that it was a little bird and not the fat fish that had been jumping north of us, it was beautiful to see.  Few get this sight, I am blessed and grateful.

Time to go in, last strokes were perfection.  They felt like sheer delight.  Perfect day.  It was the close to a season with a great time and good peeps.

And to make it the perfection I felt, my bow gal said "Sally, that was your best row ever when it's us and with me.  You were so relaxed and did so great."  AMAZING.

I am so grateful that I have her and the peeps that are good to me.  I am blessed and grateful for the experience and time.  I am grateful for the beauty I am presented with in my life and where I live.  I am blessed that I had such a great day to close out the season and a row that felt like perfection in my space.

Here's to Sunday and everything feeling like PURE JOY AND BLISS!

Gratitude for new adventures that turn into loves

I had something on my bucket list that I fulfilled last year.  I've been blessed enough to check A LOT off of my bucket list like trips to Tahiti and a number to places in Europe I wanted to visit.  But this was something else...a learning experience.  And boy was it...

One of the delightful things is that my husband jumped into my bucket too and took the the adventure in.

We learned to row.

OK, not that row boat type of thing or fishing or a canoe where you leisurely float, row, throw a line in the water, have a beer, read your book, glass of wine at sunset thing.  You're a single boat about a foot wide and 27' long or a double with two people or a quad/4x with 4 peeps and oars damned near as long as I am tall...wait longer than that.  And you have to do a "flip test" on the water and get back in your boat before you can solo after your "learn to row" sessions.

Yep, it's amazing and maddening all at the same time.  And that "flip test" thing to get back into your boat is not as easy as it sounds for us short gals well over 50.

AND if that is not enough, you will need to forget everything you learned in canoe lessons at Girl Scout Camp Widgiwagen about the positions of left and right and front and back of a boat!  The bow is in the back, starboard is left, port is on the right...

But it is amazing.

This morning at first light, there were six of us out; my hubs and K in a double and 4 of us in a quad...THE NEW BOAT OUR CLUB BOUGHT THIS YEAR!  I got to row in the new quad!  On a beautiful day on the St. Croix river as we wind down our season amongst the red oaks and their beautiful colors and the glassy water.

There is nothing like the sound of your slide/seat moving back and forth with everyone else when you're rowing the quad.  All the same movement (hopefully!) and all the same stroke (hopefully!) and the glide and at the same time the power of movement with the drive of all legs in a Power 10.   The peace and fun of rowing a double with a veteran who knows just what they see in your slide and stroke and coaches you to the best of your movement to feel like you are floating along in perfect rhythm and pace with them.  They are amazing athletes and yet simple coaching like "plant your blades and drive" are the perfect confidence builders for a 2d year like me.  No ego, so kind.  And this morning I was behind another member who was in stroke seat (you have to follow that person's movements to stay in sync) and though he confessed he had not rowed a quad in 34 years, he got me to a new level of feeling great.  And it helped boost my confidence that the commodore who was in the bow (in charge seat) called out and told me my blade depth was great on my stroke.

Overall an AMAZING row this morning despite not being able to feel my feet when we stood in the river to get the boat in and out :)

I love my pal that I row with that will call "weigh enough" (that's STOP!) on the river and point out the sunrise over the church steeple or the hot air balloons rising or the convocation of eagles on shore eating a fish that washed up.  She gets the beauty of the sport and has won her medals but she also makes sure we get the time to appreciate the spirituality of what we are doing in the early morning.

They also watch and know and gently assist in those moments when those of us taking baby steps need to know we are not complete and utter screw ups.  Like me...

Flipped my single on the coldest effing day of the summer, 54 air temp.  And could NOT get back in after about half a dozen tries and had to swim the damned thing to shore after having drifted halfway to New Orleans.  After that I have refused to go back in the "big girl" boat and went right back to the trainer, which is wider and more stable.

But my pal who loves the scenery and the one who is national champ, and the one who coached me to  "plant and drive" have all said "you need to get back on the horse..."  Well...the horse pissed me off.  I've lost a bit of my mojo in the other boat.  But they have the confidence in me so come spring I will start with baby steps again and see how it goes :)   I still feel good in the double and 4x/quad so we'll see about that single. But to have those kind women take the time to reach out and coach, encourage, build.  It's something I have not seen or experienced much of up here and I am SO grateful for it.

It is a beautiful sport and so fun and such an adventure.  And the hubs and I have also taken it to another level and have become regatta referee candidates.  Not an easy process but WAY cool and a huge honor.  I don't have the racing bug but I loved the observation part of our "schooling" recently on the Head of the Mississippi Regatta.

This is going to rock :)

I am so grateful for this beautiful morning on the river with people who are really wonderful and I so appreciate.  I am grateful for my heart being guided to this sport that I love, and once I'm a bit more confident I am sure I will be better at.  I am grateful for sharing it with my loving husband who not only loves it, is obsessed.

In the stress of all on my plate, and winter approaching, I am beyond grateful for at least two more days to get out there and absorb the beauty and friendship that I've found rowing.

Grateful for those who lift us up...

We all have those people in our lives, the ones who make us feel like a million!  They see us on our worst day and love us...you know, the ones in your grubby sweats, wet hair, no makeup or bed head, and they tell us we are wonderful, beautiful, amazing...

That is my husband.  This morning as I sat here in my grubby sweats with wet hair and no make up trying to tackle the mound of work that did not get attention while I was at a conference from Tuesday of last week through Sunday/yesterday, he proceeded to tell me that he was so proud of me and loved me and without hesitation told me how beautiful he thought I was.

I thought he was high.  Clearly he didn't look at me when he said it.

But he meant every word because he sees beyond wet hair and no makeup.  And as we've gotten older, none of that matters to him.  What matters is our health and happiness.  And each other :)

He tells me that he is proud of me too.  It must be for something other than stellar housekeeping...  and CLEARLY not for cooking because my two best efforts at that are Cheerios and reservations!

I'm thinking it is because he knows the soul of who I am.  He's proud of that soul.  What I stand tall for, who I choose to fight for (it is always the underdog) and the integrity I so fiercely put forth and demand in others.  The love and respect I focus on giving.  What I work so hard to teach in the former students and others I mentor.  What I strive to bring out in others...their very best soul.

My travel pal this past week is also one of those people who makes you feel top drawer.  She knows what I am about, what I am intellectually composed of and capable of.  We are more recent friends than some of my pals and we were until this road trip, work-related in friendship, but she said something that made me feel like a million while we were at the conference...  After I mentioned  a particularly difficult situation I was juggling, she looked me square in the eye and said "want to know what I think?  Lift your skirt, grab your balls, and get on with yourself, you are better than this."

Amen sista.  And you knew exactly what I needed to hear to have the validation.  What a blessing you are in my life!

My brother is my cheerleader too.  We are 500 miles apart and we have had our moments.  But he never misses an opportunity to tell me that he is proud of me or that he loves me.  It's just the two of us, no other siblings.  We could be that brother-sister gig that hates each other.  But he's always there to let me know I'm pretty OK in his world.  And it does mean the world to me.

I look to those messages from my former students and hear them say "Oh Sally, I love you!" and it comes from a spot in their hearts that makes ME feel like I'm on top of the world.  My sorority girls (with the exception of the couple of psychos) are the same.  My BFFs from home too.  They lift me up.  And at the precise times when it seems it is the prescription that is the best medicine.

A new Facebook girlfriend has bonded with my cause to help homeless pets.  She said to me recently that I have helped her find ways grow to better herself.  That is pretty humbling and let me tell you girl, YOU have taught me how to be a better person.  You came for a graduation party, we met, and you have become a huge part of my heart.  You are truly amazing.  HUGE soul you have my dear!

I had a recent reach out from high school.  A very fun guy I had known because he dated and eventually married my girlfriend's sister.  So this group was so fun...my girlfriend was like a sister to me and we knew each other from Sunday School years when we were small and remained close into high school.  Her sister was a year younger and boyfriend...well they were laughter and smiles all the time.  We all kind of hung together on a regular basis, loved the fun with them!  But we all lost touch as will happen at that point in life.

So sister's boyfriend/ex-husband friend requested me on Facebook and we chatted for the longest time and recalled fun times.  He is still the kind that when you think of him all you see in your mind is a great smile and lots of laughter.  I so loved hearing that he's got two grown kids and a grand baby!  The chat was so wonderful and took me back to years of laughter and special times.  He's still a really great guy.  When we were closing out the chat he said "Sally, you are so, so sweet."

I thought he was high too.  He clearly did not know that I had just about come through the phone at the AT&T wireless billing guy an hour before. OOPS did I just admit that one? :)

But it is those things, sincere and loving message from people who somehow see through the bullshit and give you that heartfelt assessment that reminds you that you are pretty OK and really matter to someone.  That your soul is one that is loved and treasured.  Kindness that comes out of the places you least expect but treasure most.

And even though that is my mission daily--to let people know that they are loved, and amazing, and valued and important--it is nice to get it in return.  Fills the heart to overflowing.

Remember Abilene in The Help?  "You is kind, you is smart, you is important."  We all need to say that to each other to remind each other that despite the shortcomings, we are all worth those words.  And don't kid yourself, we all NEED to hear those words!

A Facebook pal posted this today too...good reminder for us all.  Because we all slip and get bitchy now and then:

"The ego has taught you that by making others feel insignificant or inferior, it will allow you to feel better about yourself. That is an illusion. By diminishing others, you diminish yourself"

How true...

I work toward the Four Agreements in my life and sometimes it is harder than others but I find that they are good guideposts for us to be good to one another.  

Try them...and be good to one another.  Lift each other up, it makes a huge difference in someone's day.  And you don't have to know them at all, lift them up anyway.  You will be making life better for someone, the world better for many, and I guarantee it will fill your own heart.

Gratitude for Serendipity and Syncronisity

I don't believe in coincidence.  Things happen for a reason.  People meet for a reason.  Paths and doors open for a reason.  My pal Deb and I have always called them "God winks" and "coincidentally" there was a piece this morning on CBS Sunday Morning about God Winks.

I had several late last week.

I am blessed to be a member of the Association for Transformational Leadership.  The midwest group meets twice a year in May and October.  Last week was our fall meeting and a smaller, more intimate group than my last meeting.  It was a blessing to say the least.

We do a fun ice breaker like at most meetings and it is always so uplifting.  It involves circulating and telling your new compadres something good you see in them.  All 3 of the folks I connected with used the same word for me (coincidentally...) JOY.  JOY...what a beautiful word to be associated with.

We then walked through the landscape arboretum, which is breathtaking on its worst day, and in a group of 4 talked briefly on a question posed to us before,  I mentioned that JOY had "coincidentally" come up in all 3 people and yet cancer was the term associated with me recently in a loose connection of sorts.  It just came rolling out and I don't know why...right there in front of the lavender and mint in the fragrant herb section.

It hit me so hard I started to cry.  How could two terms be so far apart in describing me?

Then it happened...that coming together of souls for only good that I crave and love.  Beth, Valerie and Myron...all healers of different modalities, began their loving magic to kick it to the curb yet help me understand why it hit me so hard.  Cancer...WHAT A HORRIBLE WORD.  Your loved one may have cancer,  your pup has cancer,  I have breast cancer,  I have thyroid cancer, you are a cancer...

I cannot find any instance in which that word lights up the soul.

But Beth and Myron and Valerie, I am so grateful for your love and desire to help me.  Because YOU all and the others saw my soul, nothing else and you were firm in eradicating the cancer that seemed to be a black cloud hanging around me.

I am so grateful for you all and your love.  Selfless love that moved me into a great space.  Space that needed to be opened up to take in the next great things of that day and the coming days.

There was more to come that day :)

My dear, dear friend Paul is one of the founders of the Transformational Leadership Council and all of the chapters associated with the group that is international.  He has mentioned to me several times that I should connect with a woman named Patricia who is working on a TL project connected with higher ed.  I have opened her website several times.  Closed it because they are associated with a former employer, some of whose "leaders" have moral and ethical compasses that do not necessarily point due north most of the time and two of whom I have been the target of.  I struggled with that connection.

Opened Patricia's website again...what would I say in contacting her?  Paul said to call but I'm not sure why?  DUH...no.

OK, put it aside and think on it later.

So at Thursday's meeting we were in a table exercise to write a 90 second poem where the word ending of the sentence is the first word of the next sentence.  Mary, the facilitator gave us the first two words, SACRED SPACE.  I didn't think...I wrote:

Sacred space is my wish
Wish is for dreamers to do
Do what your heart tells you
You have the power
Power is here to create your reality
Reality is now
Now you need to act
Act is imperative


That is by far the best poem ever and I'm framing that bad boy :)  Soul talk.  Heart speak.

We shared them at our little table of 4.  As we all talked,  I realized my new friend and table mate Joel had mentioned Patricia's organization in passing a couple of times and it clicked...WOW he can help me understand the organization and maybe why I keep opening that page and trying to figure out if I should call her.

Well he did more.  He talked about what they were doing briefly and mentioned that they were having their meeting the next day, asked if I was free.  HELL YES!  He mentioned they were probably full but he would call and ask if I could get in.

ONE person cancelled due to an emergency.  I had an open spot!  Coincidence???  I think not...

The meeting was held at "that" employer I mentioned.  Coincidence?  No.  Time to clear the deck of that shit and get on with cool stuff on the agenda.  And of all things, as I left that day, there was a nemesis and she was literally running to avoid having to say hello.  Yep, kick that cancer to the curb, cool things await.  Coincidence?  NAH, clearing :)

Patricia's organization and meeting were a totally perfect dovetail to the meeting the day before and Joel connected me with a couple of others that continued to fill that space that has felt incomplete on various levels.  Amazing conversation and people.  And Paul and Myron were there to also continue the great energy from the day before.  Patricia is wonderful and I am looking forward to more interaction with the group!

The two days were bubbling over the top with those moments of serendipity and syncronisity that had me spinning with excitement in learning new things and meeting new people and new adventures with them and endless possibilities.  Soul connections.

Paul, I am always and forever grateful for your insight and love and friendship.  Joel, I am so grateful for you opening multiple doors and looking forward to a great friendship.  My other ATL pals from last week, you fill my heart and soul and I am so grateful for all that evolved and helped me grow some wings.  I am grateful to feel and be renewed.

God, I am so grateful for your WINKS.  Please keep them coming!  But here's the deal...sometimes it needs to be a neon sign and not just a wink...know what I mean?

Namaste my friends, my blessings.  I am so grateful for you all!

HUGE gratitude to know when you make a difference

My husband and I give back as much as we can and we have a passion for animals.  This is so easy for us because all we do is drive, love, deliver...

This will give you an idea what we do, I wrote this for my husband to submit to his company's volunteer/matching grant department:

Every Sunday night my wife and I put on our t-shirts that say “When all that stood between life and death was a ride, how could I say no?”  Then we jump into a 1996 GMC Jimmy that has over 190,000 miles on it and we transport dogs to rescues, fosters or “furever” homes.  We are that ride.

We are animal rescue transporters.  We drive for Mobile Mutts, a group that coordinates transport for rescues that pull animals from high kill shelters, mostly in the southern United States, and transport them into rescue situations in Minnesota and Wisconsin, sometimes in Illinois.  There is every breed imaginable and every age.  Puppies who have just been weaned and still have yet to receive full vaccinations are deemed “no paws on the ground” and are handled with great care.  Parvo can be picked up by them just walking on the ground where the virus is present and it can then wipe out a kennel population that is unprotected from the deadly disease.   Seniors that have been coldly dumped at shelters by owners who simply state “we don’t want her anymore.”  Disabled animals that have little chance of getting a home because of their special needs.  There are many Pitbulls simply in their situation because of human assumptions or abuse.

These drives bring joy and tears on many levels.  There is the joy of looking at that dog and knowing that it escaped death in a gassing chamber in Louisiana or a heartstick facility in North Carolina (yes, that is exactly what you think it is) to be driven, leg by leg, to places where they will be vetted and loved as every animal should be.  There are the tears when they look into your eyes and thank you, as only a shelter animal can, for driving them to a place that literally chose to save their lives.

One snowy winter night Sally and I transported Snowball (WHO IS NOW NAMED ROO.)  He was a Rat Terrier mix from Alabama and his front paws were deformed.  As he settled into the ride to meet his rescue, he took his little deformed legs and pulled the blanket on Sally’s lap under his chin and let out a heavy sigh.  He is now at Home for Life in Star Prairie, WI using a wheelchair to get around and is living his dream.  There was Teeny, a Chihuahua mix only 10 weeks old that rested in my hand and snuggled my neck.  And there was Precious and her sister Queenie, two seniors that looked up at me with hearts and eyes full of thanks as they left to go to Homeward Bound Rescue in Monticello, MN and hopefully be adopted into a loving family of their own.

Transporters simply drive.  Some an hour, some more.  It’s like a puppy underground railroad.  We meet at gas stations, truck stops, mall parking lots, and such places to pass our passengers and their paperwork on to the next person to move along the line.  All dogs have been spayed or neutered and have all shots, with the exception of some puppies too young at the time of transport.  Some want or need to be in crates and some just ride along and fall asleep next to their fellow passengers.  The legs typically start in the south on a Friday or Saturday and overnight Saturday night to move along again bright and early on Sunday morning and we are that last leg on Sunday night; Hudson, WI to Brooklyn Center, MN where we meet in a parking lot filled with people picking up their passengers.  Fosters, furevers, rescues, we are all there to celebrate their new beginnings.

It’s easy, you just drive.  Maybe a few treats would be in order and a rub under the chin, possibly a belly scratch.  But it’s the best drive you’ll ever be on looking into eyes that are so grateful for you spending a couple of hours on the road and some gas money.  We can’t do everything for them but we are comforted knowing we can do something.

We so rarely ever know where they go or how their new homes are or if they are happy and content in their new lives.  We just say a lot of solid prayers for them...

And today I was on Facebook while my documents are printing and found this story about ROO that I wrote about in the story above.  I am OVER THE MOON to read his story and see the sweet smile on his face.  And on a cloudy, chilly day when I needed to know this, it was confirmed...our drive made a difference.  What we did really made a HUGE difference to a crippled pup from an area of the country where he would have never survived, we made the difference in him getting to an amazing new life.

Make a difference.  It does not take much...  But first read about my sweet pal Roo:

http://www.homeforlife.org/roos-story