Love, Life and Puppy Dog Tales

The gentle music of the chimes just outside the door is soothing.  It also makes me feel nostalgic.   Previously, I hated windchimes.  It was senseless noise that my brain always wanted to turn into a melody but never could.  It would cause frustration and make me shut the window or door to try to tune out the noise. Not now.  Not with this windchime.  A gift given to us in remembrance of Caliber, the random tune it periodically plays is a reminder of Caliber.  Caliber was a talker.  From an early age, she shared her voice and we hoped it would stay a part of her.  She'd make us laugh when she interjected into a conversation, and I suppose that reinforced her desire to share her opinion.  Rarely did her voice rise to a 'yell' - a bark.  It was always a growly, sometimes sing-song type sound.  She'd be laying on the bed, seemingly asleep as we chatted away about our day.  Quietly there'd be a noise that would emanate from her.  She needed her beauty sleep, and we wer

Recently after a class I was teaching at a conference, a friend who was in one of the classes that I taught took a moment to ask me a question. You and Kristi are married, right? Yes, yes, we are, I replied. Then why did you refer to her as your 'partner' in the class today?  I thought for a moment and finally said that for me it seemed to be a comfort level thing.   It depended on the audience.    She seemed to understand and let it go, but it has since swum around in my head, churning up my thoughts on the matter. To a degree, I felt as though she had caught me in a lie.  Kristi is my wife.  Why wouldn't I refer to her as such?   As I delved deeper into my thoughts on this, I realized that some things I thought about myself aren't true.  One:  I am not as comfortable with my sexuality as I thought I was.  Extrinsically anyway.  Two:  I don't feel as safe in this world as I thought I did.  The second realization is the reason for the first thought

My coming out story is violent. It involved punches, blood, fear, and rejection. A rejection that changed the trajectory of my life. My parents were great about it. My coming out process to them was just that… a carefully planned process. I intentionally introduced them to couples who were ‘normal’ - they had fabulous jobs and led a ‘normal’ life. It just happened that they were lesbian couples. Each introduction went swimmingly well. There were no side effects - no negative conversations after the fact indicating that my parents had been nice to their faces, but in fact, were pessimistic about the people and their ‘lifestyle.’ On the contrary, my parents were wonderfully positive about them. When I felt confident enough that I wouldn’t be rejected by my parents - and I had moved out and was living on my own, supporting myself - I visited my parent’s home and told them. Well… truth be told I told my mom and said she could tell my dad. Her response? “We’ve already talked about it.

In the days that follow, the grief ebbs and flows.  It's always unexpected.  What should bring tears doesn't.  Suddenly, the wave crashes over top of me, and tears flood the room. Around me, so many others are grieving the loss as if it were their own. Truth be told, it is their own too. After four years of therapy with "Dogtor" Raezor, they all had a connection with her. You couldn't help but connect with her.  That was her special gift.  As they offer their sympathies, they are also feeling the loss and I am finding myself saying the same words to them, trying to console them.  I feel bad because I don't have much I can give for I am consumed with the loss myself.  This is a first for me and I am uneasy with the feeling of my inability to help another. "The stupid, untrainable dog" was the best gift we could have ever been lucky enough to be blessed with.  She brought joy and light into a room. She could temper herself to her audience on instinct a

  Preface: I started in the fire service in 1990 and in Search and Rescue in 1992.  I have seen a lot, more than some, less than others, but still, a lot.  This post was inspired by a newer SAR person wanting to prepare themselves for the first time they were a part of a body recovery.  I didn't respond to the question, but many others did, sharing their own thoughts and experiences.  It brought up a lot of thoughts that trickled through my brain all day.  It brought up memories of so many that I wasn't in time to save.  I wasn't late, there just wasn't time to save them.  So, I did the next thing I could do.  Help to recover them so that their families could move on.   There is some graphic imagery here and if you don't want to know what it's like, then stop reading now.  I don't want to make your day unpleasant or cause your nightmares.  I just want...  I just need to share what is stuck in my head.  A great majority of the people I know have been there wi