Napoleon Meets His Waterloo

It had been a few days since we'd heard our bantam rooster, Napoleon, crow.  Not that we were worried.  Napoleon wasn't so loud and we knew he had taken to patrolling the area just behind our fence, which made him harder to hear.  No, Napoleon had been with us a long time.  He was a survivor.

The next day we started looking for him, without success.  I started to miss the little bugger. Without him, who would run up behind me and attack my feet and ankles?  

It had become a daily battle.  Every time I walked out of my studio, I had to be on the alert, for I knew Napoleon would be waiting for me... somewhere.  Sometimes I armed myself with a broom so I could get across the yard unscathed. Other time, I fooled myself into believing he wasn't around and I took off barehanded.

It never failed.  Before I had taken ten steps, I would hear his feet running toward me, and my heart would start to race.  I'd speed up and he'd run faster, too. At the best of times, I was never as fast as he was, so I finally braced myself for the inevitable.

I swore.  I threatened to turn him into rooster stew.  If I tried to brush him away with the broom, he was ecstatic!  Here was a battle with a new enemy!  He would charge at the broom repeatedly, occasionally making a quick dart at my feet, until I finally slipped into the back of the house and pulled the door closed.  My heart was pounding.

It was a game we both enjoyed, most of the time.

After a week and after seeing a fox in our yard a few times, we realized Napoleon wasn't coming back.  He had met his Waterloo at the drainage ditch behind the back fence.  No more crowing. No more attacks on my feet.  No, I didn't shed any tears, but I was a little sad.

A few days later, Chris came in and said he hadn't seen Josephine for awhile.  This time, I was ready to think the worst and I concluded we must have lost her to the foxes, too. The thought of losing Josephine was hard. She was nothing like Napoleon. Josephine, a Golden Seabright, was tiny, fast, fearless, and amazingly sociable.  She would follow me around the yard and let me pick her up and carry her.  She would be missed.

We'll hold out a little hope. She went missing once before and was eventually found sitting on a nest full of eggs under the rabbit cage.

We'll let you know!

Green is All

Cool wet grass

leading down the hill

to the river.

Rice in the meadow,

trees swaying,

mountains still

like paintings behind the mist.

Vivid green

into blind eyes seep,

at least when shades of gray disappear in sleep.

Green remains,

like memories of running, climbing,

being loved,

and Mama who calls...

"Come!

rice and daal for dinner!"

All the rest

were washed away

till trickling streams 

of reds, golds, and blues

ran together,

falling into fever's flames

and lost forever.

Mama cried,

thinking I was lost, too,

trickling away with the colors.

But I came back to shades of gray

and memories of green

that still remain.

terri reinhart - fall 2012

I wrote this poem for Sita, who became blind at age 5 after having Typhoid fever.  Sita's daughter, Ishwori, is the subject of my short prose/poetry biography, Ishwori.  When I began writing this story, I found it very difficult to write in prose.  This poem is what got me started and helped me to find the proper storytelling voice for Ishwori.  

The profits from online sales go to help support Ishwori and her young cousin in Nepal.  Through the end of May, you can get a 25% discount on the paperback edition when you order directly from Createspace.  This is our way of thanking everyone for their support.

"Ishwori is a story of trials and challenges, of light and darkness, of love and perseverance - a story that needs to be told - a story that needs to be heard!"    Susan Perrow  www.healingthroughstories.com

www.createspace.com/4049685                 DISCOUNT CODE - MHVSK4YH

Kindle edition

Why I Write

One of my least favorite classes in high school was the required Essay Composition course. As our school was very large, these required courses were always full. There were somewhere between 100 and 120 students in my essay class. We sat in alphabetical order, which meant I sat right behind my sister. She was a year ahead of me and got A's and B's on each paper, while I had straight C's.

There wasn't anything personal in this class. The teacher lectured to the entire group, then assigned our work. She didn't even read the papers herself, but had professional paid graders reading them. If it hadn't been for an amazing poetry teacher, my writing may not have ever gone beyond grocery lists and notes to the parents in my kindergarten class.

I never planned to be a writer.

After I was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease in 2007, I began journaling to help process this new challenge in my life. At the same time, I had a friend who was helping me to see the humorous side of everything in life, especially our challenges. This led to a few crazy articles which another friend showed to my neurologist. Eventually, I put them altogether in a blog www.studiofoxhoven.com. I was still self-conscious about my writing and so my blog, or journal, was hidden in the middle of my website about art, craft work, and teaching.

Though, to me, having a blog is mostly just a place to store my writing in case my computer crashes, I've had a few letters from other people with Parkinson's disease or other challenges write lovely letters to me, telling me how inspired they were by my articles.

Last summer, something else happened and this has sent me on a new path. A friend of mine does a lot of volunteer work in Nepal. Through him, a young woman contacted me and asked me to write her story. She is one of the many women who were forced into prostitution as a child. How could I say no? She sent audio recordings to me, telling me her story in her broken English. I listened and spent a lot of time researching her country. The result is a short biography in a simple prose/poetry style. The profits from the book, Ishwori, go directly to this lovely young woman in Nepal.

As soon as Ishwori was being printed, a young woman from Kazakhstan contacted me and asked for help telling her story. Then, a young man from Uganda contacted me, again, asking for help with his story. These two will do much of the writing themselves, but what a privilege it it to work with these young people and hear their stories!

The internet has given writers an opportunity to practice writing and share our work. This is a fascinating time to be a writer. Through the internet we can connect with people all over the world. I can have Facebook friends who live in a shack village in Kathmandu. Through the internet, one friend taught me to speak some Nepali.

My diagnosis of Parkinson's disease has not limited my life, it has given me the motivation to write and has stretched my world to include many more people than I ever imagined knowing. It was also challenged me to constantly improve my writing.

In the process, I've discovered something nice. I write because I really, truly enjoy it.

Raising Lexus - where are we now?

Whatever it was, I didn't do it.

Let's see, Lexus is now 5 months old.  She's at a very busy time in her development, kind of like kindergarten children.  Most of the time, she knows what she should and shouldn't do, but she still can't help herself.  If there's something there to chew, she's on it.  When we catch her, she looks up at us with her beautiful and very innocent looking eyes, and pretends she not doing whatever she's doing.

Emma's mentor, Mitzie, brought over a number of toys, collected from other puppy raisers, to help keep Lexus happily occupied.  We are so grateful, not only for the toys, but for Mitzie's constant support and encouragement on this journey.

To sum up the last couple of months...

I'm becoming an expert at repairing gentle leaders and other dog halters after they've been chewed apart.

Silence is veeerrrryyy suspicious, crunchy noises even more so.

Housebroken is housebroken, until she grows faster than her bladder.

After Lexus eats, we now plan on spending time in some crazy puppy play.  Gotta help her find reasonable ways to burn off energy or she'll find a few unreasonable ways.

on the more positive side...

Lexus hasn't had an accident in the house in weeks.  When we go outside and tell her to "hurry", the command for "okay, either pee, poop, or both, before we go back inside, and do it now", she'll obey right away.

She has the sit and stay commands down.

She knows the commands here, let's go, wait, release, down, and shake.  She's not always consistent, but she's getting there.

She's learning to go get something and bring it back to us.  Occasionally, she'll even drop it on command. Once in a while, she'll even drop it in my lap.  Unfortunately, she sometimes accompanies the object and climbs or jumps into our laps, too.

She's learning what we mean when we say "DON'T!"  She just sometimes chooses to ignore us.  We know it's just a phase she's going through.  She's testing us to find out who's boss and finding out that when we say, "DON'T", we mean it.

The best part is Lexus seems to really enjoy getting out and around people.  We've gone into stores, a pizza restaurant, the ballet studio, and she accompanied me to school one day.  She's been great!  We're looking forward to getting her used to bus rides on the 16th St. Mall downtown and then, maybe, she can go to my  University classes with me now and then.  For sure, she'll attend community college with Emma in the fall.

It's a lot of work.  Like with children, it's not always easy to tell we're doing the right thing.  Are we too strict or not strict enough?  Do we balance the work with play?  Are we consistent?

I think she'll turn out just fine. Just like the kids.

Lexus meets Stormy the donkey

Raising Lexus - month 1

It's amazing how fast a puppy can grow.  Lexus was not quite 15 lbs when she first arrived and now she weighs 26 lbs!  It's also amazing how quickly she is learning.  Emma is a good trainer.  After one month, Lexus is housebroken, will sit and wait for Emma to give her permission to eat her food, will sit on command almost all the time, will run up to me and automatically sit down calmly so I can pet her, and she no longer barks when she wants to come out of the playpen or kennel.
There is a lot more Lexus will have to learn and she likes to remind us she is still a young puppy.  She knows she's not allowed past the kitchen.  If she is curious enough and feeling mischievous, she will make a sudden dash, running through the house like lightening, usually picking up a shoe on her way. If she's going to be scolded, might as well have a little fun first.
Mostly, it's just a lot of fun having a puppy around again!

Lexus - February 2013

Raising Lexus

Our daughter, Emma, received her best gift a few days after Christmas when we drove out to the airport and picked up Lexus, an 8 week old yellow lab puppy.  Lexus is on loan, really.  She is a Canine Companions for Independence puppy. Emma has volunteered to raise her and begin the basic training over the next 16 months or so.  After that, Lexus will go back to the training program in California to continue learning how to be a service dog.

                                                                                        

This is going to be exciting!  Of course, it's been a long time since we've had a puppy in the house.  

We've forgotten a lot.  Fortunately, Emma has a mentor who has raised 5 puppies for the program. Mitzi comes over regularly to check in and make sure Lexus is doing well and we are still sane.  

What we've learned so far....

Puppies are a lot like babies.  They wake up at night, cry, want to be held, get hungry, and have tantrums.  

It's a good idea to sleep when the puppy is sleeping.

One can accomplish anything: toenail trimming, ear cleaning, baths, etc, as long as there's a spoon with peanut butter to lick off.  (the puppy, not you)

Don't give the puppy attention while they are whining or barking.  If you do, the puppy learns to whine or bark when they want attention.  This is easier said than done, especially when the bark is ear piercing.  It is also difficult until you learn which whine means, "Let me out now or you'll spend the next hour cleaning my crate."

It's cold outside at 3 am when puppy has to go out and pee.  Especially in January.

Puppy needs exercise.  Play with the puppy and take them for walks, but at this young age, it doesn't take much to tire them.  Like all babies and toddlers, they need their naps or they get cranky.  A cranky puppy is not fun.  

A regular rhythm works wonders.  This takes awhile to establish, so be prepared to put up with puppy tantrums at first.  It's worth the work. 

Toys purchased at pet shops aren't nearly as exciting as shoes, slippers, the fringe on the carpet, and my sweater.

Klezmer music will calm Lexus down quicker than anything at nap time.  Maybe she's Jewish?

Cradling Lexus in my arms will calm me down quicker than anything... any time of the day.

The best news a puppy raiser can get, after they've turned in their dog and finished their hard work, is that their dog has made it through the advanced training and has been assigned to be a service dog for someone who has a disability and uses a wheelchair.  It's going to be hard to give up Lexus when the time comes, but knowing the goal makes it wonderfully worthwhile.  If she does graduate, hopefully Emma will be able to go to California for the graduation ceremony and to be the one to hand her over to her new owner.  

What a journey this will be!

Canine Companions for Independence

Let it Snow!

The snow is falling silently. Just yesterday, it got up to 64 degrees F, and everyone was out in their shirt sleeves. It's the magic of a Colorado winter. 

In another few days or a week, the temperature will rise again and we'll forget what it was like to pull on the boots and coat to trudge out to school or take care of the animals. For now, I am just sitting and savoring the silence and the snow. This morning it was a blur, coming down fast, like a fuzzy rain.  Now, giant flakes are taking their time, dancing when the breeze catches them and piling up higher and higher on the ground.

While it's incredibly nice to have the wonderful, sunny days in the middle of winter, I would never want to move to a place where there is no snow. There is something so peaceful about sitting with a cup of tea by the open window, watching while the world around me is covered with a thick, white blanket.  That's when it's nice to be in the house, to come into myself a little more, and take time out just to be.  

Regardless of the fact that Denver tops San Diego in the list of the countries' sunniest cities, and that most of our snow comes in the spring, thoughts of winter bring thoughts of snow, the adventurous times as well as the quiet ones. 

One memorable Christmas, we had a blizzard that made the roads hazardous and threatened to cancel all of our holiday gatherings. The Reinhart clan, ever determined to party on, sent out those family members with snow worthy vehicles to pick up the rest of us. 

For our family, that meant piling everyone inside and tying a wheelchair to the top of the old Scout that our brother-in-law was driving. Two of Chris' brothers drove over to pick up their grandmother, who lived alone on the other side of town. Her street was completely impassable to any vehicle, but that didn't stop them. They hiked through the snow, bundled up Grandmother, and carried her down the block to the truck. I'm sure it was a Christmas she remembered!

Something else that will trigger memories is seeing horses standing in the snow. Then I remember my first kiss and chuckle to myself. 

I was a sophmore in high school and had friends who loved to ride horseback. As one of the families had several horses, I often got to go along with them. This day, they had invited several young men to join us. It was one of those bright, sunny, snowy days after a late winter storm had dumped a foot of snow on the ground. The horses hopped through the deep snow and trudged through the mud where the snow had already melted. We gals were experienced riders by now but the guys were not. The guys did not impress me. Their talk was full of bigoted, hateful remarks about every group of people but themselves. I wanted nothing to do with them.

One of them, however, was determined to ride as close as possible next to me, something that is not advisable when riding on horseback, even if you ride well. He did his best to flirt with me and I did my best to turn him away. Nothing made any difference. I trotted with my horse through a field of mud until my face was coated with the spray from the horse's hooves. He trotted his horse clumsily, right next to mine. It was when he leaned over, grabbed me, and kissed me, muddy lips against muddy lips, that I lost it completely. 

I said nothing, only slowed down suddenly so that my horse was just far enough behind his that I could take my reins and slap his horse on the rump. The horse took off like lightening across the muddy field, its rider bouncing in the seat and holding the ends of the reins. I stopped and watched and smiled, imagining the bruises he'd have the next day. He stayed away from me after that. 

Other snow adventures include tubing down the mountain in Evergreen, checking the feet of 6th graders for frostbite after a long snowy hike at Outdoor Lab Camp, and the morning routine of knocking ice balls off our donkey's hooves. 

Teaching kindergarten curbed my enthusiasm for going out in the snow only because it involved keeping track of 20 hats, coats, and scarves, and 20 pairs of mittens, snow pants, and boots, as well as the process of putting them all on the children and taking them off again.  It was inevitable that at least one child would need to use the bathroom directly after buckling the last buckle and zipping up his or her coat. At last we would be ready, and as soon as we were outside we had a great time. 

The teachers enjoyed the snow too, and we once spent the first half hour of our faculty meeting sledding down the hill on the playground.

Ah, the snow! Maybe I'll bundle up later and go outside. I could build a snowman or make a rather chubby snow angel. If I get ambitious, I could even take the sled down to the park and slide down the hill. Maybe my grandsons would like to join me. It sounds like fun . . . but no, I think I'll just make myself another cup of tea and watch the snowflakes fall. 

Today, the memories of my adventures are enough.

(written last year for Elder-Zone magazine)