Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Begging for "Change"

I was sitting at BoJangles eating my lunch and reading a magazine. In front of me pops a man, who is asking for change to buy gas. He has dark sunglasses on but is reasonably dressed in shorts and a button down cotton shirt, baseball hat down low. I look at my purse next to me. There's no money inside. I used it all over the weekend. There's change but I don't really trust this guy enough to look down again and fish change out of my wallet.

"No, sorry. No cash," I say. I wonder where he's going to put the gas since he doesn't have a gas can with him.

He quickly moves to another woman eating alone and asks for change. I see her give his a few coins and he exits the restaurant.

I can see him moving from car to car at the nearby stoplight. I assume he's asking for more change. He goes over to the AutoBell across the street and they shoo him away. He is circling around the stopped cars at the light again - like a buzzard. That thought makes me cold and I wonder if I've really become that judgmental.

I finish my sandwich and stop to talk to the woman who gave him change. She said she gave him 40 cents because it was "just 40 cents and it wouldn't break her." I told her that I didn't give him money. She said she's been burned before by panhandlers and usually doesn't give them money and didn't feel good about giving him money but did so anyway. I wished her well and left.

As I was approaching the light to cross, I see the beggar pull from the bushes a bicycle. He jumps on it and rides off down the road. I shake my head. I guess it wasn't gas he was wanting to buy with his money after all.

He was begging for change but it's not the kind of change you'll find in your wallet. It's the kind of change you will find within yourself.

Savor the details.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

I Think I Can. I Think I Can.

We started Sissy, our retriever mix (?) in flyball about six weeks ago. She's a great dog but a worrier. I can see the stress of learning something new in her face. She doesn't pick up new things as easily as the Border Collie but still loves to go.

She especially loves to swim in the doggie pool after class when there's time. She paddles out to the deep end, swims around, and comes back out in the zero entry only to slither back into the deep end from the side of the pool. She loves water; swimming around in circles and lapping it up.

I'm not sure she'll ever be a flyball dog like Susie, the Border. I don't know how she would handle the tournament stresses. It's very loud, dogs everywhere, staying in a hotel, and the worst part - the crate.

She's not crate trained. I've been working on it slowly by feeding her meals in the crate most evenings. I think it's only causing her to gobble up her dinner even quicker so she can be done and get out faster. She goes into the crate just fine. She doesn't freak out anymore when I slide the noisy latch over to lock the crate. Sissy seems ok in there if I leave her alone for a few minutes after she eats. But eventually, she barks and whines to be let out. Normal for crate training but I have a soft spot in my heart for this one.

We don't know her history. She's a rescue and found us when she was 1.5 years old and a thin 32lbs. She stared at me from behind the kennel wires, begging to let her out, play with her, and give her a chance. We did and somewhere around the 5th kiss on the cheek we were hooked. That sweetness in her eyes, that look of despair, and willingness to please has to surely be part Golden Retriever but I'm not sure.

I hope she can pick up flyball and all the chaos that goes with the sport. If not, that's fine too. She won us over five years ago from the behind those kennel bars; a desperate black dog with statistics working against her. She was looking for a new family and some people to love and maybe just maybe learn a new sport.

Savor the details.

Friday, August 19, 2011

Cars the Talk

Occassionally I see some pretty odd/interesting things on cars.
Here's a few:

I don't think I want someone doing my construction project when they have their back window taped together with duct tape.
I'm just saying...

I see this a lot here in the south. Cars in memory of someone. Does that mean they used the insurance money to buy the vehicle?
I'm serious - I don't quite understand this.

There's a window air conditioner in this truck.
Note: the windows are down and it's like 100F so I'm thinking it's not working.

Savor the details.