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!

I miss you so much, sweetest one, Wiggles!

I miss you so much, sweetest one, Wiggles!


March 6, 2012


By AWM (Always Wiggles' Mommy) propertyrights@earthlink.net


An old country song says something about only missing someone twice: once a day, all day long, and once a night, from dusk 'til dawn. I know how that feels now, dearest Littlefoot! Yes, Good Boy is doing fine and we're okay and having good times, but that does not diminish how much I miss you. Oh, if only there were a way I could just touch you again, hug your dear self, know you'd be there on the other side of the bed each morning ...

You ARE with me still, now and forever, just in a different form, so my missing you is the missing of your physical self, but dear, sweet Wiggles, I wouldn't ask you to be here one second longer than you were. You stayed so much longer than I knew, and when you gave me that last forty-eight hours, you had already gifted me with months that were precious to me, though you were so sick. Whatever was growing inside you (whether it was or was not cancer doesn't matter), was something you held at bay for so long, and you did it so bravely. You were mortified when you leaked urine or vomited, and you used your big green play ball and 'roughed it up' so ferociously in order to keep things from shutting down your ability to eat, urinate and poop ... though I didn't know it at the time.

Oh, how much you are loved, Wiggles, Many Kisses, my Sweetest One!

This photo I took of you the evening of December 1st, 2010, just a little more than three days before you put your fourth foot into Heaven. You loved me so much -- you Love Me So Much, now and forever! -- that you gave it all you had, trying to stay as long as you could.

If I could tell you again, whispering in one of your dear silken ears, how much you are loved, I would do so in a heartbeat, but you know ... you always knew ...  you will always know!

Here's another photo from that same evening, as you sought to do something, anything, so you could stay longer with your mommy-me.

You, sweet Wiggles Blue Heeler, on your/our first Christmas together, in 1998. You always only had eyes for me, and me, for you!

Always, you know ... not for just an hour

not for just a day

not for just a year

but always

Always!

Thank you, Dearest Littlefoot, Wiggles Blue Heeler!

 

 

Thank you, Dearest Littlefoot, Wiggles Blue Heeler!

 

 

December 4th, 2011

 

 

From your mommy-me, Julie Kay Smithson propertyrights@earthlink.net

 

 

Dearest Littlefoot, Wee Gull, Many Kisses, my lil Booberry, and so many other terms of endearment, in a little less than eight hours, it will be one year since your return to Heaven, but you have never left me, not for one second! You've been here in my heart and soul, your love strong as ever, your loyalty to your mommy-me just as true.

 

I miss your barely-damp-finegrit-sandpaper kisses and always will, until the time that you can bestow them on me again, each and ev'ry one a blessing in and of itself.

 

Now I realize that you loved me so much that you and God brought Good Boy into my life (not just to save his life, but also to save my own), and for these miracles, I am so grateful to you. Would that I could hugabugga you again, one arm 'round your middle, the other arm 'round your chest, and kiss the top of your dear headbump, just above your precious Bentley mark -- but you know and receive my love just as you always have, and you continue to gift my heart and soul with your love.

 

Tonight I sat for a little while in your chair, the orange flowered one from Mom & Dad's house, and remembered how many times I'd gaze across their living room to see you sleeping in this chair -- sometimes curled up this way or that, sometimes 'belly up,' all four feets in the air in utter trust and relaxation.

 

You and I were soulmates from the start, and I know it's all right with you that I love and care for Good Boy, because he did not 'replace' you. After all, you and God sent me to bring him home! You know my love for you is as soul-filling as ever, and we are always a team. Now we work together to bring Good Boy happiness and a life free of the pain and fear he knew for so long. Thank you, my sweetest one, beloved WigglesBlue Heeler!

With ev'ry beat of your heart, ev'ry stir of your soul ...

With ev'ry beat of your heart, ev'ry stir of your soul ...

Here I am, Person O' Mine! Right here with you,
When my heart stopped beating, I didn't leave you.

I'm inside your heart, helping it heal;
Inside your soul, helping it feel.

The tears are of love, that you shed for me,
I am not gone; I'm hereinsideyou, see?

Look in our yard, look 'round our home;
I didn't go, I didn't roam!

Far from you? There is no way!
I could go, not for forever, or even a day!

God knows our love as He knows our hearts;
He loans us the bodies, but we never part!

When things wear out, as on earth they do,
He tucks us inside the other's "soul shoe."

There to live, comfy-cozy we are,
ALWAYS near-n-dear, never far!

Tonight, as you lie down to sleep,
Feel my paw on your arm, my breath on your cheek.

"Seeing" me isn't just the old way,
It's seeing with our hearts, where we always stay!

Fresh as the day I came into your life,
New as our love, old as the knife

That cuts our hurts and pain away,
And leaves our love, forever 'n' a day!

Where am I? In the love that makes you whole,
With ev'ry beat of your heart, ev'ry stir of your soul ...


By Julie Kay Smithson, forever Wiggles Blue Heeler's mommy, and now Good Boy ACD's mommy, too propertyrights@earthlink.net 


Inspired by this photo of Henry, Shari Reinesto Tyler's beloved dog, who lives forever in her heart and soul: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1325863979#!/photo.php?fbid=1942996657696&set=a.1268183427787.2036487.1325863979&type=1&theater and by the great and endless love of Wiggles Blue Heeler for his mommy-me, as evinced by his and God's gift to save two lives: mine and Good Boy's.

Wiggles: Six months today, dear heart

Wiggles: Six months today, dear heart

 

 

June 5, 2011

 

 

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

 

 

Six months ago, life for Wiggles Blue Heeler and I as we knew it, changed forever. The lurking, growing unseen presence within his midsection had grown -- from something that added enough pressure to make him leak urine almost two years earlier -- to a mass that now was shutting down his ability to urinate or defecate. Wiggles, he of great heart and even greater love, could not go on in his earthly form any longer.

 

What could I say, now that we'd come "down to the wire" and my promise was being called? Wiggles had never let me down. He'd always been there for me, and now I had to be there for him, keeping my promise to not let him suffer.

 

A little after five in the morning on Sunday, December 5th, I awakened to see ever-faithful Wiggles stretched out in clear discomfort, perpendicular to me, his front feet off the bed, trying to buy a little more precious time, a few more breaths without struggle. He and I knew, when we lay down to grab a little sleep just four hours earlier, that this would be our last time to be physically near each other on this earthly plane.

 

We didn't have to talk about it or fight it any more. I called the emergency veterinarian I'd spoken with the night before, letting her know that it was time for us to meet her and her assistant. She asked if nine o'clock would be okay. I replied, "No." She inquired, "Eight o'clock, then?" I spoke words that, even now, seem unreal. "We need you to meet us as soon as you can get there, about seven o'clock."

 

Now things seemed to slow down. Wiggles actually got down off the bed by himself and went out the front door and down the steps on his own, knowing, I'm certain, that this was our last ride in the little blue truck. I can't remember if I helped him up in the truck, but it seems that I did (he'd always jumped in on his own before). Then we were off, taking the smoothest possible route so as not to jar his bulging midsection and make him hurt. Down the state highway to the interstate, going up to legal speed and a little more, we had only fifteen miles to cover to get to the exit where ...

 

As we got within a half-mile of the exit for Wilson Road, I reached over to pat his head gently and put a hand up across him so he wouldn't be jarred as we took the ramp. For the first time in his life, Wiggles was trembling under my hand, his head transmitting the pain to me.

 

I gave him all I had in assurance and love. "Hold on, sweetheart. We're almost there. I won't let you hurt anymore." When we got to the clinic, the lady vet and her young assistant were arriving at the same time. One of them held my door open, and I carried Wiggles, his bed and thick towel, as the other held the door of the clinic for us. Paperwork was signed, a 'sleepy shot' was given (the only time I ever heard Wiggles yelp in pain, because he was tense with the pain that he still endured without a whimper -- then the sleepy shot helped him relax, though he still remained upright, though lying, his dear face consigned to the moment at hand. He kissed me one last time for now, and kissed the vet and her assistant to reassure them that all was okay.

 

At seven-fourteen on this crystal-clear Sunday morning in December, Wiggles, child of my soul and my best friend for this lifetime and eternity, was whisked back into God's arms. Someday, we'll be rejoined in joy, but at that moment, all that mattered was that this dearest, gentlest of souls was no longer hurting, and was free at last from his earthly bonds of age.

 

I love you, Wiggles, forever. You know me, like God does, better than I'll ever know myself. Thank you for all your love, love that surpasses everything, and swaddles me always. Get ready, dear one! My soul will flee earth one day and rejoin you forever!

Four Months Today, Good Boy & a Healing Heart

Four Months Today, Good Boy & a Healing Heart


April 5, 2011


By Julie Kay Smithson propertyrights@earthlink.net


Four months have passed since Wiggles Blue Heeler wore out his earthly body and returned to Heaven, leaving me with his soul sheltered always in my own heart and soul, my grief unlike anything I've ever known.

Wiggles was on loan to me from Heaven and I always knew that with certainty. When his dear furry self was no longer in our home for me to touch, play with, sleep with, brush and pet and listen for his 'feetsteps' on our floor, my loneliness was profound and devastating. Other family matters only increased this need for my baby, the child of my soul, to be here in the flesh, but it could not be. Hours became days, days became weeks, and weeks stretched into months. I truly believed that any other dog in our home would be nothing more than a trespasser, and though I tried to put out feelers for another dog -- and dear friends also tried to help me -- nothing mattered.

Then, upon returning home from my dad's house late Monday evening, February 28th/early Tuesday morning, March 1st, I got on Facebook. Someone had posted a photo of a blue heeler (Australian Cattle Dog / ACD), with a caption like, "Someone please help this poor soul." The details described this terror-stricken dog as a small female, blind and about to be euthanized at an animal shelter in Franklin County / Frankfort, Kentucky, two hundred miles south. As soon as my eyes saw this animal, something happened inside me. Having never rescued a dog before -- and not wanting a female dog, having always had males and being comfortable with them -- my brain told me to sit tight and not go ... but God and Wiggles had other plans for me, and other plans for that shelter dog.

I phoned the shelter and left a voice message -- two voice messages -- expressing interest in learning more about that blue heeler. When the shelter opened at noon, I phoned again, asking if it would be possible for someone from out-of-state (I'm in west-central Ohio) to adopt. The people at the shelter were so kind, so understanding of our plight: mine as a brokenhearted mom of Wiggles Blue Heeler, and 'hers' as a blind dog picked up in the county by Todd, animal control officer. There's virtually no future for blind older animals once they arrive at animal shelters. Very few people want older animals; fewer still want blind animals.

Somehow the shelter staff heard the need in my voice, knew the tears were real, and when they checked my Facebook page and saw the photos of me and Wiggles Blue Heeler, realized that this was meant to be. They said yes, that I could come and meet 'her' on Wednesday, March 2nd at noon. All the way down to Frankfort, I kept wondering why I was going to rescue a female. Hadn't I already seen other ACDs available for adoption (both males and females, all sighted), and turned them down? Why was I on this journey? Would I leave the shelter and return home alone? God and Wiggles Blue Heeler smiled quietly. They knew. They had planned. The right moment -- the right dog -- had come.

When the shelter volunteer brought the small 'girl' out for me to meet, I broke into tears. 'She' was literally scared stiff, flat as a pancake in fright in the young man's arms, stiff and shivering uncontrollably as he held her while sitting on a bench. I sat down beside them and touched 'her,' feeling the terrible fright for myself and knowing that I could offer 'her' a quiet, peaceful home that was already blind dog friendly, a nice yard that was already safe for a blind dog's eyes. After twenty minutes, the shelter director (or one of her employees, I don't recall which) asked if I might like to 'foster' the 'little girl.' My answer came unbidden and quickly: "No. I want to adopt her and take her home." The half-price adoption fee I'd been quoted, was changed to no fee at all. The small 'girl' -- that seemed to have never known either a leash or harness -- began to be put into a new blue nylon harness. That's when I learned that 'her' size and fright had masked her gender: she was a he!

Please visit my Facebook page -- Julie Kay Smithson -- to learn more about Good Boy and his new life. In the past month, we have had experiences like barely sleeping for the first two weeks, getting his health issues fixed (one of which was dental work that involved, not only cleaning terribly tartar-encrusted teeth, with two teeth already missing, but extracting two more teeth, both of them already fractured under all the layers of tartar), getting to not be so shy about 'doing his business' while on-leash, clearing up a bacterial or fungal infection under his right cornea, and much more. We have emerged, bonded and so glad to have each other -- and thanking God and Wiggles Blue Heeler for their actions, so perfectly timed to heal both Good Boy and me.

Sunday, April 3rd, I took Good Boy to a local Metro Park, and that afternoon, for the first time in such a long time (since knowing in my heart in early 2010 that Wiggles' health was going to lead to his physical death, which came on December 5th), I smiled, and the smile came from my heart. That smile came from Wiggles, who helped find Good Boy for me!

Wiggles and God knew that I'd have to put my words -- "Blindness should never be a death sentence" -- into action. They made it possible for this miracle: Good Boy -- to happen!