Childress Saves

Childress, my dog, is part Border Collie, part Australian Shepherd, part some kind of hound and part some kind of setter. He's the smartest dog I've ever known. Today when I got home from Trader Joe's, he was sitting just outside the gate. You may recall this is the gate I fixed, so it shuts and latches, but it's a ranch style gate - Childress can step easily between the beams. We don't have to worry about him running off. He's not that kind of guy.

Childress is sitting just outside the gate and when I start to open it, he gets up and walks between me and the gate. He herds me away from the gate. I tell him to knock it off, because I've got ice cream and it takes me twenty minutes to get out of town to the house, but he won't let me open that gate. Selma Rae's not home.

I had to turn the tables on Childress and try to herd him away from the gate but he basically said, "nothing doing!" he barked at me! He barked at me like Lassie in an urgent situation. So I asked him if Timmy was trapped in the well and he starts away from the gate along the fence, but keeps looking back at me and barking. I set down the groceries - by now the ice cream isn't evoking my sense of responsibility as much as Childress is. I follow him. Now I'm getting curious. Childress sees I'm following and picks up his pace and leads me to the seven redwoods about 500 yards down the fence trail.

There's a fawn. It's alone. It's actually pretty well hidden in the grass, but there it is.

So I sat down out of the way to watch a while and Childress sat beside me. We hid so the mother would feel comfortable approaching. We sat til twilight, til dusk and that fawn just waited. When dark came she started to bleat. It was so mournful, so uncertain. I heard Selma Rae's car coming up the drive and saw the lights. Childress sat watch and I went to get Selma Rae - and a flashlight from the car.

The three of us sat in our hiding place til at least 9:30 and the fawn finally stopped crying and seemed to go to sleep. No mama. Coyotes were yipping in the distance. Childress pretty much tip toed over to that fawn and lay down beside it. And the fawn let him. So Selma Rae and I made our decision.

And that is why right now there is a fawn sleeping soundly on a bed of grass here in the den. And that is why Childress is spending the night beside her, and why I'm too riveted to go to bed. It is why Selma Rae made a baby bottle out of a glove and a water bottle, warmed up some milk, and why the fawn drank it down like a champ. This is also why the ice cream melted.

At dawn, we track down Fawn's mother.

Cirtus Courage

Had class tonight. The girl who usually sits in the row next to me was uncharacteristically quiet. I asked her if she was okay. She sat up a little straighter and said she was fine, but within a few minutes of Roberta's lecturing she was slumping down, chin on her palm, leaning on her elbow. Roberta was explaining the next assignment would be a "mood piece," and the girl just went into full "heads up seven up" position, except no thumbs up.

At break I gave her an orange juice from the machine and asked if she needed to talk about it. I'm not usually the guy who does a thing like this but all the other students were mesmerized by their cellphones. At first when I'd see 'em from a distance I thought enlightenment was breaking out all over - thought they were all contemplating their navels. Nope. Texting.

The girl's name's Cindy. I'd put her at about 24. As the orange juice seemed to be giving her a little courage she just said, "I miss my boyfriend."

Oh. I didn't know for sure what to do next, did I want to crack this open? "Where is he?"

On came the crying. Told me they broke up because he couldn't find a job and didn't know what he was going to do, didn't want to string her along. As the next comment came out my mouth I tried to stop it, but it was reflex. As soon as I heard it I wanted to kick myself for reminding her of the obvious and making her feel worse. Simple and unstoppable I said he sounds like a good man.

The crying simmered down. She took a big breath and seemed relieved. She said, "Thank you."

If anybody wants to explain women to me, and I'm probably not the first man to ask, I'm listening.

MM

Always More than Two Possibilities

I got a challenge today. I was asked if I would rather be right or loved. Why do people create these pretend either/or decisions? I'd rather be right AND loved. I'd rather be rich AND happy. I'd rather be fast AND slow. More than one thing is possible at a time. And this also reminds me of that little piece of Yoda Starwars pseudo wisdom about, "Oh, there is no try..." That's bullshit, pardon my French. Same smart ass who asked me if I'd rather be right or loved tried to pull that one on me. Said, "Max, try to pick up that pen [from the desk]." I picked it up. He says, "I didn't tell you to pick it up, I told you to TRY to pick it up. Trying isn't doing." I set the pen down, pushed it toward him a little and said, "Pick up that pen without trying."

That's when he gave me the alternatives of either being right or loved. I have to admit I fell slightly into the dualistic trap because as I stood up I said, "I don't need you to love me. I need you to hire me." Then I walked out. Man's gotta have his dignity first, and I guess that means he has his food on the table second. I'd rather have a job AND dignity, but I guess forced to have one or the other, dignity's the foundation.

Man calls me half an hour later and offers me the management position instead of the lower level I went in for. Said he liked the thing about the pen, never thought of it that way before. So starting tomorrow I'll be finding worksites for the team, rather than just going to 'em. Well I gotta love that, right!?

MM

Ictheus frigidis

Aha! Another "A". I guess that means I'm a good student! I did my character analysis paper - now don't think I'm really getting that caught up in my own importance here, it's just a 101 class, but I wanted to become a better writer after starting this weblog and so I'm taking the class. I did my character analysis about a woman my wife works with, Julia. She's a middle manager with a very nice office who does accounting. The thing about Julia is she's a real cold fish. So I did my analysis on the presumption that somewhere inside was a nice warm person who was just afraid, but as I wrote, I concluded that actually she's a real cold fish and likes it that way.

I think I got good points for having an insight while writing, that I was able to guide the reader to. Some people are the way they are by accident, and some are the way they are by calculation. I've met Julia at several functions at Selma Rae's work, dinners, fundraisers, things like that. I want to like Julia so I pretended to myself there was a value in her I could connect to. But actually she's a different animal. She's a cold fish.

Maybe I'll post the analysis. But probably not. I mean, I changed the name to protect Selma Rae and if I went and made it more clear who she could be I could get slapped across the face, figuratively speaking, by that cold fish, and I don't think I'd like it.

But then again, since Julia's proud of her way of being, maybe she'd be flattered. I'm not willing to test the theory. I was talking to her at a dinner Selma Rae had to drag me to, and when she's done talking she just looks away. No goodbye or thank you or have a nice day, just moves on. Cold fish.

I got the A because I followed instructions and like I said, shared some insight. I think I also got the A because of the bell curve and the fact that most of the students in the class are not much older than 18, 20 years old, it being community college, so my works kind of stand out.