The End of a Year

I saw my cousin's blog post today, which reminded me that 2015 is nearly over.

Am I the only one who thinks that's crazy?

It has been one hectic year, and it's hard to believe it's almost over. A few really neat things have happened this year, and a few really scary things. Mostly though, it's been a fantastic year with a lot of blessings.

Here is my year in review:

January: We were closing on buying our home. Most of my thoughts and energy were aimed toward that, and getting our taxes in. Once we'd finalized everything on the house, January was pretty much over.

February: We moved into our new house. It's hard to believe that this was over 10 months ago. In some ways, it feels like we've always lived here, and in other ways, it feels like we just moved in. Most of February was spent packing/unpacking and cleaning.

I still love my kitchen!

March: Honestly, I didn't remember what happened in March until I just went and looked at my pictures. It turns out that this was the month that Grig's sister came to live with us. We had our one good snowstorm of last winter, and Kevin built his first snowman. We were still adjusting to our new surroundings, and enjoying our backyard. We got a fish, and killed it.

April: We got another fish. We spent time at Baby Animal Days, and cleaned up a lot of our property. We were hoping that this fish would last longer, but unfortunately, it too died a few months later. No more fish for us for a while.

 May: Nothing too exciting happened in May. Just a lot of enjoying having a backyard and spending time with (relatively) old and new friends. Dakota was still doing pretty well at this point, and she loved laying in our long grass. (We hadn't purchased a lawn mower yet.)

June: We had our first family camping trip! We also nearly got a kitten, but decided at the last minute not too. Only a few days after we made that decision, we found out that Grig was going to lose his job by the end of October. That made us really glad that we'd listened to answers that we'd received when we prayed about bringing the kitten home with us.

The dogs loved camping. It makes me so happy to think about Dakota on that trip. She wasn't moving the best, but she was so happy! We nearly didn't bring her, because we didn't know how well she'd feel, but I am so glad that we brought her. She loved every minute of it. I hadn't seen her so joyful in a long time!

 July: July was a busy month that started with a family reunion. We had a great time with my Mom's side of the family and enjoyed hiking in the woods and playing in the lake. Arkhon also turned 1. He is officially an adult! We also took Kevin to the zoo where they had animatronic dinosaurs. He love that!

 August: We had a family reunion with my dad's side of the family, and afterward I went to live in Idaho for the rest of August and half of September while I helped to work on apartments. It's always difficult to spend time away from my husband, but with his impending joblessness, we were grateful for the extra income.

September: After arriving home after being gone for several weeks, we had one exciting event after the other. Grig's two brothers moved in to live in our basement, so we had three of Grig's siblings in the house. A couple weeks after I got back, Grig's sister's health suddenly went downhill and she ended up in the hospital. They were able to stabilize her, but found that she had a brain tumor. She then flew home to recover and prepare for surgery with her parents.

The day she got back to Viginia, Dakota took a turn for the worse. Only a couple of days later, my fifteen-year-old dog passed away. She's missed, but I know she's much happier now.

 October: Things quieted down as October started, but we were also looking unemployment in the face, and it was fairly stressful. Grig was frantically applying for jobs, but we had felt a great deal of peace, and knew that things were going to be okay. We just didn't know when. Grig's final day of work was October 31st, and as we celebrated Halloween, we still didn't have any offers, though Grig was able to volunteer to work one extra week in a different department. He quickly asked to do so.

 November: As Grig worked the first week in November, he received a call asking him to come in for an interview. Before the week was over, he had a job offer, and he started the new job the following Monday. Our prayers had been answered! We were very grateful on Thanksgiving. We had a lot to be thankful for.

 December: The new job is going well, and we were able to have a fantastic Christmas. It truly has been a wonderful year, and we're excited to see what next year will bring! We've lost one member of our little family, but hopefully the Lord will see fit to increase our numbers in the coming year.

Happy New Year, everyone! May you set attainable goals that will bring you happiness and joy!

Dakota

As many of you know, we had to put down our sweet old dog yesterday.

I've had Dakota since 2000. We went to a neighbor's farm to get potatoes, and we came home with a puppy.

She looked like a husky pup, though she was 3/4 border collie and 1/4 Australian shepherd. I loved her immediately. As I played with her and her siblings, my dad walked up and said, "Well, would you trade cable (television) for a puppy?"

I don't think he expected us to answer yes. We already had one dog, that we'd adopted when a neighbor couldn't keep her, but we were pretty enthusiastic about the thought of bringing home another puppy. My dad and mom finally agreed, thinking that having two would help them keep each other occupied.

She was born on August 19. We brought home the little girl on October 16, 2000.

She was the cutest puppy!

Two years later, she and I went to dog 4-H together. We went to state our first year and she did really well. I learned how to train dogs from an incredible professional dog trainer, who donated his time to help kids learn at 4-H. He really taught me a lot, and I'll be forever grateful to him.

The next year, I didn't take her to 4-H (though I did take Meg), because I bred her with a purebred border collie. We ended up with eight adorable little puppies.

Unfortunately, none of the puppies took after her coloring. they were all black and white like their father.

She was the best mom. She took care of all those puppies, and trusted me completely with them. That was one of the best summers of my childhood.

Dakota wasn't perfect. She didn't like men very much, and we could never figure out why. She also didn't get along with other dogs very well. Toward the end of her life, we got her to get over that, but it took a long time and quite a few visits to the dog park. 

She only bit a person once, and that was when she was a mother. A neighbor girl was talking really loudly and animatedly around her pups, and it made her nervous. She nipped her to get her to stop. 

Actually, I guess she did bite my younger brother one time. He came in crying about how Dakota had bit him, and it turned out that he had chomped on her ear first, so she nipped him back. He wasn't really hurt, and we thought it was funny.

She and Meg (our other dog) were usually great friends. Meg taught her some bad tricks, and sometimes they fought, but usually they had a great time together.

Meg and Dakota

When I left for college, my parents said they would only watch one dog for me. I had to give the other away. It was a hard decision, but Dakota was my baby. I had raised her, and she was the easier of the two to handle. She stayed, and Meg went. 

No matter how long I was gone, Dakota was always my dog. She always greeted me enthusiastically when I returned, and I always looked forward to seeing her. She was aging, but she had a very puppy-like love of life. 

She helped me choose my husband. I wanted her to live until I married, so I could see if she liked the guy I was dating. She was very particular about the men that she liked. I shouldn't have worried. She lived long enough to meet and love Grig, and that was one of the reasons that I knew I'd chosen the right man. 

I didn't know she'd live long enough to meet my first-born son too.

Kevin's first time meeting Dakota

A year later, we moved into an apartment that allowed pets, and she was able to come and live with us. After being an outdoor dog her entire life, she was finally allowed in the house.

She loved it!

Kevin loved his old dog. She was just about his speed.

She struggled with the stairs a bit, and she was developing arthritis, but she could still get around okay. She was always kind and patient with Kevin. Even when he accidentally hurt her, she did her best to be gentle.

In the late spring of 2014, Dakota was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was already large enough that it had most likely become systemic, and so we decided to just take good care of her until her time came. We though she had six months at the most. We weren't sure if she would make it to her 14th birthday.

We decided to get a puppy, so Dakota could teach him to be well-behaved before she passed away. She wasn't so sure about the idea at first, but eventually, he grew on her.

That's one pooped puppy!

A little while later, Dakota reached her 14th birthday, and we celebrated it enthusiastically, imagining that it would be the last one that she would have.

Here's Dakota eating her birthday cake.

Time passed, and though Dakota incremently got worse, I didn't feel like it was time yet. I told my husband, "If she stops eating, if she stops being able to walk, if she gets an infected sore, or if she isn't happy anymore, we'll put her down."

It seemed like that day would never come. She wasn't moving easily, but she was still mobile. She loved food almost too much, and would occasionally do some pretty crazy things in order to get to it. She never stopped being sneaky. Even when she could barely walk, she still managed to break out of the backyard (thank you, Meg). We'd hear her breathing through the front window and know she managed to get out again. She was happy, and seemed pretty healthy for her age.

She had her 15th birthday while I was away working in Idaho, and we didn't ever get around to celebrating it. I kind of regret that.

During the last few months, she began to develop what Grig termed, "Bed sores." He was absolutely right. She wore away the fur and skin on points that were kept in nearly constant pressure with the ground (mostly on her elbows and on her sides). We cared for them, and they seemed to be healing, albeit slowly.

We've had a crazy few weeks, what with Grig's sister's health problems and my husband's imminent loss of job. However, Dakota was kind enough to wait until Grig's sister made it back to Virginia with her parents. Grig's sister made it home Friday, and that's the day Dakota began to go downhill.

She was unable to get to her feet without assistance, and she showed no interest in food. She wouldn't even drink water, and a pretty foul smell began to come from her. She seemed despondent. I hoped she would pull out of it, but something inside of me told me that this might be the end.

We gave her a couple of days to see if she'd get better, but she only got worse. She didn't move most of the day, and when she did, she required assistance. Sometimes she looked fairly alert, but she had lost the joy in her face.

This picture was taken Friday night, the day Dakota started going downhill. My parents got to see her one last time. 

Saturday was a busy day for us, and she didn't show any signs of improvement. She was able to walk some, but she still didn't want to eat or drink.

This picture was taken Sunday afternoon. This was her favorite place to relax outside.

By Sunday morning, I knew it was time. I wrote in my journal, and after I finished, I e-mailed our veterinarian, who is a good friend of mine. I used to work for her when I lived in this area before. I asked her if she could come on Monday to put Dakota down. She was kind enough to e-mail me back on a Sunday, and we figured out a time. 

All day Sunday, I struggled with it, and prayed that I was making the right decision. I commented to Grig that the only thing she was missing on my list was an abscessed wound. A few minutes later, I found one after it burst. One of her bed sores had become infected, and the infection had run under the skin and abscessed right behind her right shoulder. It was huge and deep. I actually edited the above picture so you couldn't see it. She looks much better without it. 

After that, I still wasn't sure. Sometimes she seemed pretty alert, but she still didn't seem happy. Every one of the items on my list had been fulfilled, and I took that as a sign that it was time, but I still struggled with it. I didn't want to end her life prematurely. 

I cried and stressed about it quite a bit that night. I didn't know what our lives would be like without my wonderful companion and friend. She'd been with me for more than half of my life. However, after discussing it with Grig, I became convinced that it was the right decision. He was kind and left it up to me. She was our dog, but ultimately, she was and had been mine. She loved Grig and often greeted him enthusiastically, but she followed me everywhere and never liked me to be out of her sight. 

Monday morning, when our vet showed up, her first words were a huge comfort to me. She told me, "You're right, she's ready." Grig was able to leave work to be there as well, and that was also a huge blessing.

Dakota didn't really even react to the vet's presence. She just laid on the floor. 

This is where she was when the vet arrived. We took these pictures a few minutes before she came.

As the vet gave her sedative, her face relaxed and for the first time, she was free of pain. It was such a comfort to have her euthanized in our home by a dear friend whom I have know a long time. Dakota never made a sound, and she was very peaceful though out the entire procedure.

Once the drug had been administered, she stopped breathing, but it took a few minutes for her heart to stop. I couldn't help but admire what a fighter she was. She never quit, and she always kept going with a smile on her face. I can't even imagine how much pain she was in sometimes, but she never let it stop her from doing what she wanted to do and being with the ones she loved.

After her death, I felt more peace than I had been expecting. I didn't know how I was going to handle it. I'd never had a dog die before.

I wasn't sure how I was feeling about everything. I was sad, but part of me also could see her running, free of her mortal pain. As I thought about that on the ride home from the crematory, an impression hit me very strongly, and the thought popped into my head that said, "She's happy now."

I began to cry with joy. At that moment, it was as though all of my sadness was gone, to be replaced by joy that she was now free and happy. Her body had been becoming more and more of a prison to her gentle, loyal, joyful soul. She could now run with the speed of her youth, and I knew that she was still watching over us. 

Kevin and Arkhon didn't really understand what was happening. When we took Dakota's body to the crematory, Kevin kept saying, "Dakota's dead, dead, dead, dead, dead."

However, the rest of the day, he kept asking, "Where's Dakota?"

I would tell him that her spirit was now with Heavenly Father. That thought seemed to satisfy him, but he also was sad and grumpy for the remainder of the day. 

Arkhon has also been especially needy. He doesn't want us to go anywhere without him. That's not really like him. 

I am still sad, but I am not as devastated as I thought I was going to be. I'm so grateful for the life that I've had with her. She was worth every moment, and I learned so much from her. 

I saw this meme the other day, and I wanted to share it. I'm not sure who said this quote originally, but I loved it:

Link

Here's a short poem I wrote right before I e-mailed the vet to schedule the appointment. 

Dakota

Clear eyes cloud and the light slowly dims

Silk-like fur greys and becomes as wire

Energy lessens, and joints stiffen that 

once flew like raging wildfire.

What will life be, without you by my side?

You were there to greet me, each time I returned.

To you, it didn’t matter if it was five minutes or years.

The joy you exuded, could bring me to tears.

You helped choose my husband, 

You listened to my fears.

I learned from you what a dog is, 

and you taught me well.

With you, I learned to be firm and loving.

You trained my son to adore dogs .

You taught my cousins to give up their fear.

You were a comfort on warm, friendless days,

You slept with the cats, on winter’s dark nights.

You taught me responsibility, though sometimes I failed.

You taught me to endure, when I grow old and frail.

I have needed you and you gave me your best.

Thank, you Dakota.

You will be missed.

We thought you had six months. 

You gave us a year.

I’m not ready for you to disappear.

Our home will seem empty without you here.

When you’re free of your body,

Come visit us again.

Come run after Arkhon, 

Come play with Kevin. 

Come sit by my side, and greet Grig at the door.

There’s a place here for you now, and for forever more. 

We buried my dog tonight, under our apple tree. We sang Amazing Grace and had a prayer. It was a nice moment with my family. 

She's happy, and that's the most important thing to me.

Dakota, we will miss you and we love you. You are, always and forever, my beautiful dog. We'll never forget you.

Dakota
8/19/2000-10/12/2015

My heart has joined the Thousand, for my friend stopped running today.

--Hazel, Watership Down

New Betta and Other Changes

We have a new betta fish.

I wish I could say that it was because the first one was doing so well that we decided to purchase another, but that would be untrue.

Ichimaru Gin died yesterday.

In fact, yesterday was kind of a rough day for me.

I got a lot of wonderful things done, but between killing the fish and a couple of other things, I was a pretty sad puppy. Sometimes it's really nice to have a kind husband who can just hold you when you cry and doesn't blame you for killing your fish, even when he liked him too.

So, evidently there is this thing called temperature shock. If you put the fish into water that differs too much from the water they are currently in, they can go into shock and die very quickly. The water doesn't even have to be dangerously warm. If just has to be different. Yesterday, I changed Gin's water and put him back in his tank.

He began to swim around, and in retrospect, I realize that he was swimming frantically. Then he began to jump at the surface of the water. I had never seen him do that before and it bothered me. I wasn't sure if he was happy because the water was clean, or if something was wrong.

I don't know all that much about fish.

Anyway, within a couple of minutes he seemed to have settled down near the plants at the bottom, and I figured he was okay. However, a few seconds later, I saw that he was only his side and not moving. I quickly got him out of his vase and tried to help him, but I was too late.

It's probably stupid, but I was pretty sad. I really liked Gin. He was a fun little guy and I didn't mean to kill him.

Kevin doesn't understand death at his age. When I told him that I had accidentally killed his fish, he said, "Yay!" and clapped his hands. It was kind of funny. However, when I told him that his fish was gone, he got pretty sad.

I couldn't bear the sight of the empty bowl, so when Grig got home I asked him if we could go get another fish. He agreed and we headed off to Petsmart.

So, here is our new fish. We named him Abarai Renji.

It's just Renji for short. We're hoping to keep him alive much longer than Gin. He's a really beauty. Renji is a half-moon betta, and he's a little bit shyer than Gin was, but he's starting to get comfortable.

Yesterday, we also picked up our new toilet. After a lot of discussion and some internet searches, we got it put together. Here is the finished product:

Goodbye, leaky, non-flushing toilet!

That was a good way to end yesterday evening.

Whenever I start to feel sad or overwhelmed, I have a couple of wonderful helpers who always perk my spirits up.

The other day, I made a blanket fort for Kevin. After we made it, Kevin and I were playing when I suddenly looked around and realized that Arkhon was missing. I called for him, and to my surprise, he came out of the fort.

I think he liked it even more than Kevin did.

Dakota and Arkhon are finally friends I think. They sometimes play together, though he can still drive her nuts.

It's obvious that he loves her, and sometimes, just sometimes, you can tell she loves him back.

Why else would she let him use her as a pillow?

I have a lot of blessings, and I'm so grateful for our new home. Little by little, it's really starting to look great.

It been great having my sister-in-law (Argent) here. She's been super-helpful, and I've really enjoyed getting to know her better.

There are always trials, but we know we'll make it through them, as long as we stick together.

It helps when you wake up your husband before you take a selfie.

Are There Any Original Endings Left?

When I was going to college, I took a fiction writing class.  It was a lot of fun and I really enjoy writing, so it was kind of a treat.  At the time, I was considering changing my major to become an English major and so I was experimenting to see how I liked those kind of classes.

We would all write short stories and then we would take turns as a class reading each person's story and analyzing it.  You weren't allowed to talk when your story was being analyzed, but you could listen and see people's reaction to your story.  

I learned a lot in that class.  However, one thing sticks out in my memory.

At the class's beginning, everyone's stories were completely different.  Some weren't very well-written, true, but they were creative and original.  However, as the class progressed, I began to see something very interesting happen.  Trying to get a reaction out of their audience, characters in the stories began to die. It was a slow thing at first.  A character death here, someone's reaction to it there, but it spread through the class like a plague.

After two-thirds of the semester was over, everyone's stories were ending in death.  It was an incredible change.  Soon, it was a surprise if someone's story didn't end with someone dying.  Reading back on some of those short stories that I wrote during that time, I was a little surprised by how dark they were.  I don't think I would even think about writing some of them now.  

Finally, at one point, I wrote a story just to stir things up.  Out of all the stories I wrote that year, this one wasn't my favorite, but my teacher LOVED it.

Here's the story:

******

 The Truth About Age

    The old woman hobbles slowly down the path, a bag in one hand, a cane in the other.  Her legs are bowed and she is bent nearly double with pain as she makes her way to a small gate.  Her wrinkled face is creased with sadness and she stumbles now and again against rocks on the uneven path.  

    As she reaches the gate, she slowly lifts her weary head only to find a young man there.  He smiles gently and opens the gate for her.

    “Would you like me to take your bag?” he asks kindly.

    The old woman, surprised, is silent for a moment and then speaks in a voice worn with age, “I would be most grateful, young man.”

    He quickly takes her bag and extends an arm.  The age-old sadness begins to slip from her face as she gratefully takes the proffered hand.  Slowly, sorrowful wrinkles begin to transform into gentle laugh lines.  

    They walk in silence for several minutes.  Once they reach her destination, the young man graciously hold open the door.

    He nods his head to her slightly as she takes her bag back and he gently smiles a final time.

    “Have a good day,” he says, and disappears down the street.

    The woman, no longer bent with age, continues to smile as she walks into the store.  Energy seems to fill her small frame and she glides more quickly, only using her cane slightly.  Time slowly fades, and wrinkles are made smooth. 

******

It was a very positive and uplifting story.  I was trying to convey the message that as we help those around us, they can feel younger.  It was very different from the suicide and other depressing stories that we all were turning out at that point.  It was interesting to me to see the positive reaction to my story.  As humans, sometimes we're so busy trying to get an emotional reaction and trying to be stunning that we don't realize that we're stopped being stunning and have become the same.

When The Ring came out, most horror movies had happy endings, or at least resolutions.  However, since then, most scary movies seem to just be getting darker and creepier without resolution.  At the time, it was original, now my siblings don't even think its all that scary.

When Tolkien wrote Lord of the Rings, fantasy wasn't even a genre.  There was simply fiction and nonfiction. When The Hobbit came out, these stories were still being called Fairy Tales.  Now it seems that you can find elements of Tolkien's books in nearly every fantasy.

I enjoy it when books surprise me.  However, as I work at writing my own stories I wonder if they're too predictable.  Do my stories have events in it that are just intended for 'shock-value'?  Or do they have surprises that are surprising because we really couldn't see them coming?  The best authors even include clues, but the readers mind either misses those clues or assumes that they are leading to something else.

In our own lives, do we follow the crowd?  Are we inclined to do things for the shock value?  Or are we going to do uplifting and positive things that will surprise others because they are different from the way society is doing things.  Like the young man in my story, are we helping others to throw off their troubles or are we causing them more pain?

Are there any original endings left?  Yes.  However, it is up to each of us to find our own.  I can't live my life the same as any other person, and I shouldn't try.  I'm someone different.  I want to do what's right, and that means I have to find my own path.  Each of us has a completely different story from everyone else.  We have different backgrounds, different motivations, and different goals.  As we discover that story, we can choose whether we are a good or bad influence in the lives of those around us.  We can choose how we affect their stories.

And at the end, everyone will have their own original ending.  However, what happens and whose with us when the time comes is really up to each of us. 

Of Mice and Moving

Yesterday was a cray day.  It started out normal enough.  I spent the morning blogging, working on stories, working on the next Dragon and the Wolf video (which will be coming out on the 15th), playing with Kevin, cooking, and cleaning.

However, about 3 p.m. (I have to put the p.m., because this week I've been up helping Grig get to work at 3 a.m.), I got a text from our neighbor.  As a side note, this neighbor is the one whose daughter (Angela) we've been babysitting.  They were moving out and they needed help.  The mother is pregnant, and the grandmother who lives with her had knee surgery a few months ago.

Grig's brother, who is living with us, was the only help I had.  I put on my baby backpack, stuck Kevin in, and he and I went to work.  We started moving out all of their stuff.  Here's a neat thing that happened though.  A couple weeks ago, we pulled all of the boxes from our house that we'd used to move in.  We broke them apart, and put them in our trunk.  We kept meaning to take them to the recycling center, but it never happened.  Turns out, that was a blessing.  Our neighbors really needed those boxes.

However, Grig was at work until 3:30, so I told them that they would have to wait until Grig brought the car back home.  She said that was fine, and so my brother-in-law and I took out what we could until Grig came home.

Except he never came!  It was 4:00, and he still hadn't shown up.  Kevin was getting tired, thirsty, and sweaty from being in the backpack.  I was thirsty as well, so we went up to get a drink.  Do you know how hard it is to help a baby drink from a sippy cup when they're on your back?  We did a rather complicated dance for a while, and then I slipped off one of the shoulder straps, and we succeeded.  Luckily, once I get the cup to him, he can hold it alright.  At 4:10, I checked my phone.  Grig had texted to tell me he wouldn't be home until 4:30.  We kept working.  Finally, at 4:45, he came home.  My brother-in-law had needed to eat something and Grig had just come home from a twelve hour workday, so I told him to go shower, and I left Kevin with my brother-in-law while I went to get the boxes.

The boxes were stacked in such a way that it was easiest to carry them if you had two people because then you could grab the biggest one together and all the other boxes sat on top.  That's how Grig and I carried it out.  However, I didn't remember that until I got the car pulled up to the side of the apartment.  So, it ended up taking me three trips to get all the boxes up.  There wasn't much more we could do at that point, but I told them to let us know when they needed us to help haul boxes down again.

About a half an hour later, after Grig and his brother had left to run a couple errands quick, Angela's mother knocked on my door.

"Look what we found in my ex-boyfriend's shoe," she said.  She pointed down to the ground and there on our stairway were four baby mice.  She explained that her ex had some to get his stuff, and as he loaded his shoes, he'd seen something in the bag.  He'd opened it and a mouse had run down the stairs to the outside world.  Then he pounded out his shoes and out came the baby mice.

They were so cute!  Their eyes weren't even open, and they were shaking.  They were at that adorable stage where, when they try to move, they just kind of wobble.  Their skin was a light gray color and they were so tiny.

Here's the dilemma.  The mother mouse had run away.  I couldn't hand feed baby mice.  We didn't have the tools or money to provide for them.  If we didn't do something, they would just starve to death.  Or...we have a pet snake.

I was quite a bit torn about this.  They were really cute, and I really love animals.  I've killed very few in my life (one mink actually, and that is an interesting story that I will tell another time.)  However, these mice were going to die anyway.  I felt like at least if they fed our snake there would be a purpose to their death.  So, I scooped them into a tupperware that we use to thaw out the mice that we feed Oryx (our snake) and I left them in there until Grig got home.  I really hated to kill them.  I called my dad whose advice I trust and told him the situation.  He recommended that we freeze the mice so they wouldn't spread diseases, just in case.  He also said that freezing was a pretty humane way to kill them.

From what I've heard, it's really cold for a while, but then you feel warm and you just go to sleep.  So, when Grig got home, we talked it over and stuck the mice in the freezer.  Grig thinks we might need to boil them after to freeze them, just in case.  We'll see.  We both felt pretty bad about it, but it was comforting to know that their deaths would at least have some purpose.

Okay, so maybe we're weird for worrying about killing a couple of baby mice.  Or maybe we're cruel for killing them.  Regardless of your opinion, we were trying to make the right decision.  Maybe it would have been more humane to just smash them and put them out of their misery, but I couldn't do that.  I feel like we made the right choice.  The only question I had at the end was this:

Where's a cat when you need one?  

Anyway, when Grig and his brother got home they finished helping them move while I got the kids out of the way for a while.

So, it was a good day.  Crazy, but good. It's always nice to help out a neighbor, and we really appreciated the opportunity to help them.  We've been trying to be good neighbors and we're sad that they're moving, but she's pretty excited about it so we're happy for her.

And that is the story Of Mice and Moving.    

Why Do Fireflies Die So Soon?

 

Recently, Grig, his brother, and I watched a very sad movie called Grave of the Fireflies.  It is a Japanese animation about two Japanese children during World War 2.  It is very well done movie (though much better subbed than dubbed), but it is depressing as all get out.  Basically, it shows you what happens to the innocent when others are waging war.  It is about a boy, around twelve or so, and his sister who is about four.  Their mother is killed early on in the movie, and though they are taken in by relatives for a time, they end up on their own.  There is one especially poignant scene where the four-year-old is burying some fireflies, and asks the question, "Why do fireflies die so soon?"

This becomes the theme for the entire movie.  Why is it fair that those who shine so brightly are usually the ones who are extinguished the quickest?

When I worked at the zoo, good kind people would often bring us baby birds that they had 'rescued.'  Usually, they found them in their yards, and seeing no sign of parents, they would pick them up bring them to us.  They would ask us to take care of them, and leave satisfied that they had done a wonderful thing.

Here's the deal though:  Ninety percent of those birds died.

Here's the secret.  Usually when you find a small fledgling on the ground, leave it alone.  The parents are around and they will take care of it.  Or, another animal will eat it and it will have a quick death.  Both of those options are much better than slow starvation at the hands of humans.  There are very few people who can successfully raise a baby bird into an adult.  It requires a lot of time and knowledge.  You need to feed a baby bird every two hours, and you need to feed it the right diet.  You can't feed a baby waxwing bugs.  They eat berries.  Unless you know that, your attempts, though well-intentioned, are futile.  Like those people, who thought they were doing a wonderful thing, how often do we do well-intentioned things that bring sorrow on others.

One of the things I really like about Grave of the Fireflies is that it is Japanese.  During World War 2, we (Americans) were the ones bombing their homes.  In fighting that war, we felt that we were doing what was right, and I still believe that we were.  Otherwise, a lot of other innocent people (Holocaust, anyone?) would have continued to die.  However, in the process, a lot of innocent people who believed that what they were doing was also right were killed by us.

Why does God allow bad things to happen to good people?  Why do children suffer when those who cause wars often seem to get off scot-free?

In the Book of Mormon, (Alma 14:11) there is a scene where some very wicked men are burning women and children.  The prophet at the time is being held captive by these wicked men and forced to watch.  His companion desires to use the power of God to save the innocent.  The prophet makes the following reply:

"The Spirit constraineth me that I must not stretch forth my hand; for behold the Lord receiveth them up unto himself, in glory; and he doth suffer that they may do this thing, or that the people may do this thing unto them, according to the hardness of their hearts, that the judgements which he shall exercise upon them in his wrath may be just; and the blood of the innocent shall stand as a witness against them, yea, and cry mightily against them at the last day."

The Lord loves all his children, even those that do wickedly.  However, he is a just God.  He can't righteously judge unless they commit sin.  The greatest and most terrible gift God has given mankind if the gift of choice.  God allows us to choose, because then he can justly give us the consequences of our actions.  If we choose good, we are blessed.  If we choose evil, we choose punishment.  

How much sense would it make if you had a child, and before you let them decide something, you gave them a treat and said, "I knew you were going to choose a good thing, so don't bother choosing.  Here's your reward,"?  Or, in the same situation, before your child could act you tell them, "Sorry, I know you were going to choose the wrong thing, so you don't get any treats for a week,"?  Wouldn't the child protest, "But I didn't do anything?"  I know I would.  

Has anyone seen the movie Minority Report?  There are some parts of that movie I don't like, but I really appreciate the main premise.  The storyline is that in the future, the society is built off of stopping crime before it happens.  There are three psychics who can see when someone is about to commit a crime.  Before they can commit it, the police show up and arrest them.  The main character is told he is going to murder someone he's never met, and the police are chasing him.  During the movie, he's trying to find out why he would murder someone he's never met, and if he can choose a different fate.  If someone hasn't committed a crime, how can we punish them?  How do we learn if we're not allowed to choose?

However, sometimes bad things happen and it's no one's fault.  Someone gets sick and dies.  There's an accidental car crash.  Natural disasters occur.  Why do those things happen?  Let me send you to another of my favorite scriptures.  It's in the Bible.  1 Peter 4:12-13:

"Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you:

But rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings; that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy."

Christ suffered everything for us.  Yet, should we expect to partake in his glory without feeling something of what he went through?  Trials are not meant to punish us, but to help us grow.  As we suffer, we can more fully understand what Christ went through.  As we come to know, love, and depend on his grace, we more fully become like him.  Then, when we endure well, we are able to partake of his glory.  

Why do fireflies die so soon?  So they can return in a blaze of glory to our Father in Heaven where He is waiting to welcome them with open arms.  This life is temporary.  If we choose well, we will have peace for the rest of eternity.  Isn't that worth a few trials?