Why I pick up Thorn Locust Seed Pods

Why I pick up Thorn Locust Seed Pods

September 21, 2012


By Julie Kay Smithson

While there are perhaps a dozen thorn locust trees in my rural west-central Ohio neighborhood, only one directly impacts my September yardwork. It is located two yards over in an empty lot, and when its prolific annual seed pod production is ready to fall to earth -- depending on the prevailing winds -- the pods fall in my yard, flowerbeds, or the street out front. On days when the weather is changeable, the pods rattle down in all three!

Photo Caption: October 7, 2008, beloved Wiggles Blue Heeler and some of the thorn locust seed pods gathered that autumn day.

Photo Caption: Good Boy ACD (Australian Cattle Dog) with a few of the thorn locust seed pods)

Good Boy is a petite cattle dog whose nose and ears are very keen, but he relies on me to be his vision, so keeping his world as hazard-free as possible is my blessing (as it was when beloved Wiggles Blue Heeler trod these same places). The seed pods number enough to have filled seventeen large lawn/leaf bags (crammed full) last year; they're not as numerous this year, but this week alone, I've filled four such bags!

Photo Caption: Thorn Locust Seed Pods, which can grow as large as sixteen inches in length and can be almost straight (uncommon) to corkscrew-shaped.

This is great exercise, especially considering that the curvy, twisty, hook-on-end pods are a nightmare to rake, so most of the pod pickup is done by hand -- a lot of bending and twisting, and surely a great cardiac workout! The time involved is usually 60-90 minutes, the results, a green-again lawn and/or a fresh sweep of asphalt, and last, but not least, a happy Good Boy! The photo of him represents the few pods that fell in the past five hours with no wind at all. 

 

 

Photo Caption: Not something desired for a bracelet, thorn locust seed pod.

Happy autumn, we welcome its arrival!

Always a blessing, always blessing

Always a blessing, always blessing


God brought you into my life, Wiggles, for many reasons, all of them good and kind and miraculous, not all yet known, but all so much appreciated.

So often, people will call me or Good Boy "lucky." They'll praise me for saving Good Boy, as though I had anything to do with it! At those times, I'm quick to explain to them that God and you are the ones deserving of credit, and that it's all about blessings.

When you and I met, Wiggles, and traded hearts, I learned about love, trust, faith, and hope in ways heretofore unknown. You were a joyful, yet quiet, soul, your eyes filled with love for me through both the first six years of normal eyesight, and the second six years, when you saw with your heart. You brought home to me the knowledge that love is so much more powerful and all-encompassing than I'd ever known. There is so much that I miss about your physical presence, but also so much that you gave me to celebrate, including the blessing of Good Boy.

This lil pup -- he's a senior cattle dog / blue heeler of unknown vintage, but shedding years of dread and trading it for trust and the surety of having a real home -- is alive and thriving thanks to you and God. That blessing is one I share; you knew it wasn't my time to grieve to death. You found just the right furry soul to pair me with, though I was not able to give Good Boy much at first but the roof over his head, food and water and much-needed veterinary care. You know that neither he nor I realized the breadth and depth of our blessings for the first six months; it was more than a year before we really got to a place where we were able to feel the happiness coming through where before there had been ... unsurety. We've both been so tired, so filled with a riot of feelings ranging from dread to hope and from sadness to happiness.

When we go for walks, we walk in the same places where you and I walked, and even though the seasons and years pass, your presence is still strong and steadying, letting me know that it's all right to smile, to hug and pat and love Good Boy. The love we have for each other is safe, secure, and stronger than ever. Good Boy has joined us, sharing a place that you and God helped make for him, blessing us.

So, whenever someone that doesn't know, mentions 'luck' or focuses their gratitude for Good Boy's saving, on me, I tell them about how you and God love me so much that that love reached out and took Good Boy in, too!

Thank you for all you've done and continue to do, sweet Wiggles! You are always the child of my soul, still teaching me about love and faithfulness. You and God are a perfect pair!

So much love,

Your mommy-me, Julie

A New Post Is Coming Soon ... It's Percolating

A New Post Is Coming Soon ... It's Percolating

June 24, 2012


By Julie Kay Smithson, always Wiggles' Mommy (and now Good Boy's mommy, too) propertyrights@earthlink.net


For the past few weeks, a new post has been in the formative stages in my heart and mind. It's not quite ready, but will be soon. Beloved Wiggles, you are faithfully with me always, and reminders of you abound all around, but most of all, in my heart and soul.

It is so clear, so undeniable, that you and God arranged for Good Boy's path in life to merge with my own, and he and I are most grateful. Though your earthly body simply wore out -- and I know you're here in a perfect way now, right here with me at all times in all places -- I still long for you in that visible, tangible form that spent all those blessed years with his mommy-me. You understand that, Wiggles, and so does Good Boy as he keeps just enough space between us for you to stay beside your mommy, even as he has become more comfortable here and knows it's his home for the rest of his earthly life.

Good Boy and I are a team born of desperation, loneliness, great need and all the ingredients that you and God put together and mixed, but we could not exist without either you or our Heavenly Father. Thank you more than there are words to describe, on this day, and every day: I love you more than ever, sweet Many Kisses, Little Boo, Punky Brewster, Wigglety Woo!

Christmas 2011

Christmas 2011

Left to Right: Beloved Wiggles Blue Heeler (July 19, 1998 – December 5, 2010), yours truly, and Good Boy, rescued on March 2, 2011.

This photo blending of me, Good Boy and beloved Wiggles Blue Heeler was done by friend Len Wood of Melbourne, Australia (who also has blue heelers, and had one gal, Tramp, aka Trampy, for fourteen years, so knows how I feel about Wiggles). Len kindly did this very special color image, as well as a black-and-white one. Friend and neighbor Marlene Wade took the original photo of Wiggles and me on April 1, 2007. Friend and neighbor Jeff Caskey took the original photo of Good Boy and I on April 18, 2011. Len used the 2007 photo and background and cropped Good Boy out of the other photo and into this one, weaving Good Boy in so it looks for all the world like we’re all there together, at the same time – and in many ways, we are!

I’m filled with the joy of Christmas and Jesus' Birthday, but have been working so hard that the thought of sending Christmas cards -- even though I've put return address labels and postage stamps on all the envelopes -- is just overwhelming. I sent 197 out last year (to my family, friends, subscribers to my research efforts, and friends via past chapters of my life: horses and trucks). This year, no way! There are 200 envelopes done, but getting the envelope addressing and card writing for each might as well be like me trying to go to the moon and back! This year, all family and friends will be receiving Christmas blessings via email. I love the traditional time spent with the cards, envelopes, photos, address book, etc., but must downsize to those few that don't use email, and closest family members.

Good Boy, December 10, 2011. My new dog friend and I with two of Santa’s elves at Champaign Feed/Pet, part of “Christmas In The Village” in Mechanicsburg, Ohio.

This has been a year during which change has been more keenly felt, and love and caring more appreciated than ever before. The prayers offered are cherished, the times spent together, tucked gently into my memory.

July 11, 2011. Sparkling Orange daylilies hold calm during a gust front precluding a summer thunderstorm. Our lives contain just such moments, treasured forever.

It’s a peaceful, quiet and happy time here this Christmas. My prayer is that your Christmas is also filled with peace and joy, the happiest of memories, and that you’ll make more memories with which to grace the home that is your heart. I am very grateful for your love and caring, this and every day!

Julie, Good Boy and the sweetest memories of Wiggles Blue Heeler

Happy Anniversary To Us, Beloved Wiggles Blue Heeler!

Happy Anniversary To Us, Beloved Wiggles Blue Heeler!


September 22, 2011


By Julie Kay Smithson propertyrights@earthlink.net


Thirteen years ago this day, I attended the Farm Science Review north of London, Ohio, and it was there, on Friday Avenue at the southeast corner of the FSR exhibit area, that Wiggles and I laid eyes and hearts on one another and became a pair, a team.

Today has been a good day, a day of calm happiness and contentment, for loving Wiggles -- and being loved by him -- has been so good for me.

Thank you, dear, sweetest one, for all that you gave me, every moment of your life, and even now, nine and a half months after you shed your earthly, worn-out trappings, you continue to love and to give, to me and to Good Boy. I can see you working in him, and see his happiness and trust coming to fruition, thanks to you and to God -- there's no doubt that the two of you continue to bring us miracles!

God and Wiggles Blue Heeler: Dual Lifesaving Duo

God and Wiggles Blue Heeler: Dual Lifesaving Duo


September 19, 2011


By Julie Kay Smithson propertyrights@earthlink.net


People meeting Good Boy -- energetic senior Australian Cattle Dog / ACD / Blue Heeler that God and Wiggles Blue Heeler set on course to join me on March 2, 2001 -- tend to view me as some kind of hero. I am anything but!

The glory for this lifesaving belongs to God and Wiggles Blue Heeler. Like Good Boy, I am a beneficiary in this miracle, but not the worker of the miracle.

It makes me uncomfortable to be cast in such a role when I deserve no such honor. Over and over, I try to communicate that it was not only Good Boy's life on the line in late February, but also mine.

The dozen and more years that Wiggles Blue Heeler graced our home and my life with his physical presence, were proof positive that God loans such souls to those of us in such terrible need of them. My need for Wiggles was beyond my puny ability to describe. Only God, Wiggles and I understand that in its entirety.

When Wiggles' health waned -- and no matter how much effort was put into helping fix whatever was going awry, nothing could stop the march of time -- I knew in my heart that his physical body was wearing out. The best care that could be given, could not stay the inevitable. On Sunday morning, December fifth, 2011, Wiggles could physically remain with me no longer. His fourth paw joined the other three in Heaven.

Life required my continued presence and my time (and still does), but there is no measure of the depth of our love. For some time, I could barely breathe. "Going through the motions" of living is not the same as living.

God and Wiggles put their all into saving not one, but two lives.

Unbeknownst to me, there was a small, abused and/or feral, blind heeler dog two hundred miles to my south, whose life was filled with terror and fear. He was on his own -- for how long, no one knows -- when an animal control officer in Franklin County, Kentucky found this little fellow standing, frozen in fright, next to a flooding stream. It was late February, and that part of Kentucky has very little level real estate; it's mostly Appalachian hills. Factor in the slipperiness of winter, no eyesight with which to navigate -- only the grace of God and this dog's instincts kept him alive. Fearful injuries to his tongue and mouth, eyelid and ear, paled when compared to his terrible toothache. He was having to drink cold water and eat, with at least two completely broken teeth, not counting the few he was already missing. An infection behind his right cornea made his eye not only red, but also sore. How his mind was able to keep him going, is part of the miracle.

The evening of March first, I returned home from visiting a family member. Tired beyond description, I signed in at Facebook. Someone had posted a photo of a cattle dog / blue heeler in need of saving -- not the first cattle dog whose photo I'd seen posted with a plea for help -- but this time, I felt an almost tangible urging from 'somewhere' to help this dog. It was too late to speak with anyone at the shelter, but I phoned and left a message, then called back as soon as it was feasible the next morning. I could come visit the 'small girl' whose photo was posted, I was told, and adoption would be considered.

The details of the next days/weeks/months have already been chronicled. Suffice to say, that dog in need and this woman in need, were melded.

I ask that people not look at me as a hero or miracle worker. Here is where the credit belongs: God still works miracles, and my beloved Wiggles Blue Heeler helped with this one. Good Boy and I are living proof!

Thy sweet self, thy memory and love for me, comfort me

Thy sweet self, thy memory and love for me, comfort me


August 20, 2011


By Julie Kay Smithson, always Wiggles' mommy propertyrights@earthlink.net


Dearest Wiggles Blue Heeler, you who gave me your all, your whole earthly life, still give, each and every day. I feel you and your love, deep in my heart and soul. It is manifest in the way you still shore me up with your love. You come so near to me that I can still whiff your sweet, never 'doggy' fragrance, almost touch your soft and fine fur, and know that you love me, for all time.

It should not surprise me, that you remain so near and dear, after several months have passed. 'Surprise' is not the right word, but in those grief-stricken first days, weeks and months, I dumbly did not understand that your love would be strong enough for me to draw upon, time after time after so many times. Did I think your love had an expiration date, because your earthly time in physical form did? If so, your mommy-me was foolish. I'm unsure what I thought would happen, but what has happened is a gift you continue giving. Your love breaths life into me when the times come that I seem unable to breathe without you. Your all-knowing eyes, which always looked into mine with quiet calmness and utter devotion -- even more exquisite after your physical ability to 'see' with those eyes had passed (I thought) -- still hold my gaze, still thrill my soul.

You and God weave so many miracles in my life, including that that is Good Boy. I am so 'short' with him sometimes, so unable to give him the unconditional love that my soul tells me he cries out for in his mute countenance, with his shy efforts to win my love. Wiggles, you are there in him so clearly, so strongly, and yet ... I cannot yet bring myself to simply fall to my knees and thank you, much as my actions should honor you in that way. Every moment of your life -- and now, in your eternal life and love -- you led me by your example. Why am I so fearful of allowing your love to completely flow through me and seep out into Good Boy's world? Do I fear that, if that happens, I'll somehow lose the strength that you give me to go on? I do not know. It is a complex thing, living here with your physical self ... I cannot bring myself to say 'gone,' for you are not 'gone.' You understand what words fall short of expressing at this time. You love me so completely that it does not matter if I cannot utter the 'right words.' Here I sit, trying to make my stunted, small self -- which cries out that you are not here, even when my soul knows that you are, and that you always will be with me -- believe that there are only one set of footprints, when I can see only one. Fool that I am, dearest Wiggles. When you needed to be carried, I would always pick you up and carry you. How can I not see and accept that you now carry me?

It's personal

It's Personal


May 11, 2011


By Julie Kay Smithson propertyrights@earthlink.net


I took Wiggles' life personally, made every effort to give him the best food, the freshest water, lots of great places to play and walk and sleep, and yet ... time took its toll. The ravages of age crept up on him, and although I didn't want to see it, looking back now on the many photos I took of him over the years, it's clear that he wasn't feeling 'up to snuff' as early as midway through 2008, more than two years before he returned to Heaven.

From the first time we laid eyes on each other, we were a pair, a team, a match made in Heaven. Wiggles and I knew each other so well, were so attuned to each other that we often felt like one rather than two. We enjoyed life immensely, loved to work and play, walk and run, dream and sleep the sleep that comes from days well lived.

Wiggles Blue Heeler lives within me still; he always will. There is no doubt in my mind that a big part of me lives in his soul for all eternity. Here of late, Wiggles comes to me in a new way, through the life of Good Boy, the blind senior blue heeler (Australian Cattle Dog / ACD) that God and Wiggles sent me to rescue on March 2nd, 2011.

As I work in our yard and do springtime things like scrub and refill birdbaths, replenish topsoil, pull weeds, etc., I'm keenly aware of  Wiggles' presence. He is looking out for me as he always did -- as he always will -- and the sweetness of his love and loyalty still knocks me to my knees in prayers of thanksgiving!

Good Boy is learning to trust and become my dog, and Wiggles has a paw in this process. It's clear that Wiggles is guiding Good Boy in his antics, and sometimes I can almost see Wiggles in his old spot on the other couch, quietly watching me with eyes of utmost love and affection, letting me know that he is glad my heart is healing. Still, at some time each day and night, the lump rises in my throat and tears sting my eyes as the tsunami of grief comes washing o'er me.

For all the well-meaning, kind folks that try to understand, there are no words to offer them that sound anything but strange, even to me. They cannot know -- how could they know? -- the bond, the love, the two-halves-of-one-whole, that Wiggles and I were, are and always will be.

Good Boy is here in our home, going places with me in our lil truck, and enjoying our yard. He has come so far from his first days and weeks of pain and abject terror. Wiggles has helped me to help Good Boy, shoring me up when fatigue and frustration threatened to overwhelm me. Wiggles has been always with me through family issues, ever loyal and loving, no matter how strained things have been.

It's personal, this love of ours, and yet, I must write about it, because writing about it is like giving Wiggles another 'hugabug,' a way to wrap his dear self in my embrace and drink in his sweet fragrance (never, ever 'doggy') and hold his silken paw in my hand. As his book is written, and the chapters come out to meet the world, I will still take it personally, because no one else can share the miracles of Wiggles but me. For that, there are no words to encompass everything, but I will personally share fifty sweet memories of him. Each will be a gift from him, through me to readers, to soak into hardened or broken hearts and heal them. Wiggles lived every moment to love me, and he needs for me to share as much as I am able, what he was about during the dozen years he trod this earth as my-dog-but-so-much-more.

Stand by, world! Distilling the love of Wiggles cannot be rushed, though I know it is needed by so many. As I take it personally, it will be his to give the world, one heart at a time.