NOT for the PETA Crowd

The following story is humorous but in a very dark way.  If you at all feel upset about an animals' death - skip to another post.  I just wanted to get this down because it kind of demonstrates the dark humor that surrounds my family. 

RIP Tiny

Tiny is my sister's St Bernard.  He ways a good 130-150 pounds.  He is QUITE a character.  Tiny loves to "go visiting"...... BUT - he will only go if he is accompanied by a cat  AND he will only go if it is not too hot.  I kid you not.  The dog has been found a good 10 miles away and EVERY time he is picked up by my sister, my Dad, my sister's friends, he has a cat with him.  If the cat is Miss Kitty she will let you pick he up and put her in your vehicle - where she will MEOW very loudly her displeasure of riding.  If the cat is Ferocious you will not be able to get close to her and she will eventually find her way back to my sister's house. 

Tiny was having seizures and not the mild shaking and then ok for a day or so - it was convulsions and they repeated even in the same afternoon.  This was my sister's dilemma:   1.  Getting him to the vet.  2.  Money for the treatment - which we all know never really brings them to where they were before the seizures - and that was IF they could find a cure.  3.  If she did get him to the vet and they couldn't do anything for him they would want to put him down and how do you get the body back to your house - because she didn't have money to cremate him.  My sister LOVES her animals - probably more than she does her own kids. (if you know her kids - you'll understand that one)  :-)  I know she agonized over this decision.  She finally called her son to come and shoot Tiny. 

She made the call - it was a Saturday morning.  She went out to dig the grave.  Now, Tiny usually never wants to "hang" with people.  I mean - he'll come over for a treat or to be petted but then he's usually content to lay in the garage.  (cool concrete).   Not that morning.  He laid RIGHT by the hole as she dug.  Her son came out to the farm and helped with the digging.  Tiny then has a seizure.  He falls INTO the grave!   They have to wait to finish till he stops and then they have to help him OUT of the grave. (they want to bury him deep enough that other animals don't get to him)  As they dig a little deeper they run into Harley (a German Shepard she had that had got run over).  My sister lives on a 20 acre farm!!!  What are the chances you would dig exactly in the same spot!  They finally finish and she goes in the house while her son puts Tiny down.   It was a very sad day and an agonizing decision - we've all been there - trying to decide what one should do.  When an animal lives outside and is as big as that guy they have to be healthy.  His life would have been very miserable.  The story, though is priceless.  My sister always jokes that she's the kind that will survive the airplane crash but get run over by the ambulance when it arrives at the crash.  ;-)

Death is a big part of life on the farm.  From cats dragging animals home as presents to the dogs bringing home GIANT bones from the cows next door to her.  Not to mention the whole slaughter thing that we, as "country kids" were all too familiar with.  We all knew that meat didn't come in those pretty pink saran wrapped packages.  My mother was a great one to serve cow tongue that still looked like tongue.  She didn't see the need to disguise it - it is what it is. 

It's been my experience, growing up  in a small community, that you have  rather high odds of dying of old age.  Things are changing as they always do - but for the most part death is still very referent.  It is seen as a peaceful end to this very hard life.   It is mostly seen as a blessing because for the most part the mind gives out before that body  does or vice-versa.  Seldom do they give out at the same time. 

Maybe that's why I'm not that jubilant about Osama's death.  I don't see it as justice.  And I certainly don't get the shouts of joy over it.  I feel very worried and a little nervous as to what will happen now or who will become the new target and the fact that now there is but another country where we will always have troops. 
Well, unlike Bin Laden, Tiny will be missed.  He always had that "duh, duh duh" air about him.   And of course whenever you can put your arm out your drivers window and pet a dog - that makes a memory.
:-)

Had a Nice Keaster!

Sal and I took the train from Naperville to Macomb on Good Friday.  Gpa and Gma picked us up and took us to lunch and then took us out to Aunt Jill's.  The ride was really nice.  Sal and I even slept a little.  :-)   Since the tracks don't run anywhere near the road - I was kind of lost until we got to Galesburg and then I was a little more familiar to where at least in the state we were.  :-)

Sal and I highlighted the IL map we had with us and pretty much were able to pinpoint Aunt Jill's house.  Mostly because she lives ON the Hancock/Adams County border.  :-)  

When we got to Aunt Jill's we then got to go pick up Uncle Mike from the Nursing home.  I stayed behind to make the Dirty Pudding (a family favorite - right Mick).   Did I happen to mention that my sister still has her Christmas Tree up????  Now most of us have to re-arrange furniture when we put up the tree - but she doesn't - hardly even takes up any kind of space at all in her HUGE living room.  Soooooo - when she came back she asked me to take it down.  UGHHH!  I HATE taking down MY tree - let alone someone else's.  My answer was - Heck, we've come this far with it up - what's 7 more months??  No dice.  So with Uncle Mike "supervising" (I now know why God decided to throw him from the roof)  (JUST KIDDING)...  Sal and I got it down and upstairs to her storage room. 

That night (Good Friday) we had her kids (Mick and Brad) and their families - with Mick's new family - which includes two 8 year old twin boys.  We had 7 kids coloring 9 dozen eggs that night.  :-)  They had a BALL!  They got along SO well.  Mick's fiance' Trish brought her Mom and Dad and my Mom and Dad came out for dinner so we had a really nice time.  Trish's family is very nice and gets my family's humor - which speaks to their mental illness.  :-)  

Bill and Jack were missed.  They had opening day for Little League on Saturday.  We found out later that they won the game.  But Sal and I had a much better time that Saturday (in my opinion).  My Aunt Jill and Uncle Mike had to go to the funeral home to make arrangements for Uncle Mike's Dad's funeral.  It was really a blessing.  He was 86 and in the Mendon Nursing Home and had fallen several times and the last he had a stroke.  Sal and I were left alone to be farm girls.  :-)  We went out to the pasture and fed and talked to Kitkat (the grouchy horse) and DR (the very cute and nice donkey).  DR will follow you around and nuzzles up to you and starts stamping his feet if you go to leave. He is a character.  Kitkat stands a few feet away and just gives you those "bitchy" eyes.  She's also known to run him off the trough of food, so I don't have a lot of love for her.  We found Ferocious in the stable and even caught a glimpse of Booger in the barn.  We held Bob (cat) and Miss Kitty and played with Chunky then we walked down the lane to get the paper, came back to the porch, rounded up the rocking chairs and sat in the nice sunshine till they came home.  I could sure get used to that.  :-)

Easter Sunday dinner was just us and my Mom and Dad.  Aunt Jill and I had been out to Hebron Cemetery the night before (the Beckett) cemetery and couldn't find Aunt Jess - we must have walked directly over her - as to what Dad described as where she was.  Anyway - we ended up asking all kinds of questions from the "wild tales" that the Grandmas had told me.  I'm 11 years younger than Aunt Jill and she's the last of the "stair steps" (my 3 siblings).  Soooo when *I* came along both Grandmas were retired and I spent a lot of time with my Grandma Beckett - who lived one block from us.  Being only one child I got to sleep with the Grandmas when I stayed over night and I'd always ask them to tell me a "wild tale".  :-)   Aunt Jill was never privy to that kind of stuff because when she stayed with Grandma - there were 3.  ;-)   Ahhhh - it's good to be the baby.  :-)

My Dad told of when the house that he lived in burned to the ground.  That house was located right next to the house my parents live in now - they moved there , from the farm, in the 60s - not too much before I came along.  My siblings didn't have running water - I did.  :-)  That's why they think I'm spoiled.  Anyway, he told of how the entire upstairs was gone and that was where my Grandma and his things were.  They lived with his Grandfather and his Uncle Albert.  Even though he was 16 years old he said he cried like a baby.  It made a HUGE impression on him - to this day his greatest fear is fire. 

My family got a HUGE kick out of Sally.  I never realized before but my Grandma's Mom (Sally) was born in September - same as my Sally.  I guess I did pick the right name.  :-)