Category: Connection

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Dogs, Horses, and Maddie

gregoryjoel

I went to the farm Sunday afternoon to water the newly seeded beds. It may have rained a lot of last week, but new seedlings require consistent water to germinate well. Besides, I like Sunday afternoons. I enjoy the solitude of the day. It’s quiet except for the occasional bicyclists whizzing down the Trinity Trail, encouraging each other as they ride past.

I noticed a grey compact car parked toward the back of the empty lot in front of our barn. It’s not unusual for people to park in the vacant lot and walk down to fish or walk the trails so I paid it no mind. I drove down to dump compost before returning to open the barn and getting the generator out. As I unlocked the barn, I caught a glimpse of an older man sitting in the grass next to the tree in the vacant lot. He grabbed my attention because he didn’t look like most of the folks going fishing or the homeless people that frequent this part of Sylvania Street and the Trinity Trail. He was dressed in a sport shirt and jeans, his hair neatly combed, and gave off a fatherly aura, if there is such a thing.

It was then I noticed who he was talking to. It was a beautiful black and brown German Shepherd. I looked back at the barn door quickly as if my eyes had intruded on a very important and precious moment. I don’t know anything about that man or his dog, but I do know about something about men and their dogs (no offense to my wife or all the other female dog lovers). There was something deeply personal and tender about what I had seen. There was a sense of sadness in the picture. It was as if he were saying goodbye to an old friend. Could it be that he was spending his last day with his faithful friend? I have no reason to know this was the case except for the feeling in my gut. A tear blurred my vision as I opened the door and stepped into the barn.

I hurriedly loaded my truck with the generator and some tools and left as quietly and as quickly as I could. I went about my chores but couldn’t shake the image I had just witnessed.

I’ve always had a special relationship with all the dogs who have graced my life. I’m convinced that the world needs more dogs (and horses but that’s another story…) and less people. It’s no surprise to me that dog is simply “god” spelled backwards. They share the unconditional love quality of the Creator. I needed to be around such unconditional love more than ever. That’s when Maddie, and a couple of months later Missy, came to live with me.

Maddie was half Dachshund and half German Shepherd. I’m not sure which one was the father, but I’m convinced it was not the Dachshund. I can’t figure how that would’ve worked if it was. She looked like a Dachshund with a semi-German Shepherd head. My first thought was that she was so ugly she was cute. That changed soon enough.

 Maddie was eleven years old when she came into my life. Her owner had lived at Samaritan House, a transitional housing place for homeless folks with HIV/AIDS, and been the caretaker for the house dog, Maddie. The two became inseparable. When her owner moved into her own place Maddie went with her. Unfortunately, her owner passed the same year I found myself at Samaritan House and getting clean from too many years of addiction.

Her owner’s sister brought Maddie back to Samaritan House because the only other alternative for her was the shelter. I volunteered to keep her, and we bonded immediately. She became my dog.

Three months later Missy came into our home. I was doing some landscape work for a friend. She had two dogs: one a Boston Terrier and the other a Sheltie named Missy. She had taken Missy in from a breeder and then discovered she was incredibly allergic to Missy’s long hair. She asked if I would like to take her. I said yes without hesitation even though I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to have her in my little apartment. Moreover, I wasn’t sure how it would work with Maddie. I’d figure it out. When my friend said her good-byes to Missy, I opened my truck door and Missy jumped in. She never looked back.

I finally moved from Samaritan House to my very own place. It didn’t have a fence, but I didn’t have to worry about the dogs. Missy kept Maddie safe and would always herd Maddie back to the house when she wandered off. She got along well with Maddie, but Maddie made sure everyone knew she was the alpha in our little pack. Maddie would stand at the food bowls, while Missy waited patiently for Maddie to finish eating. Maddie would empty her bowl, walk over to Missy’s bowl, and lick the top and sides of the food bowl just to show she could.  She wouldn’t eat any mind you, but she made it quite clear who was in charge. When bedtime came Maddie slept by my head and Missy slept at my feet.

Maddie was eleven years old when she came to live with me. I knew when I took her in that I may not have her long. Despite the tendency of Dachshunds and Shepherds to have hip and back issues as they age, Maddie never had those problems.  She may have slowed a bit, but she was full of energy, bringing joy and love to my home.

\When I moved in with my “adopted brother” Craig a couple of years later, she wormed her way into his heart. The dogs who would “have to stay outside” still slept with me and often took on the role of service dog to Craig. He had severe diabetes and both Missy and Maddie warned me when his blood sugar dropped too low. He often told me how special they were to him.

It was 2011 and the morning was unusually hot and humid for the early Spring. I began my morning ritual of letting the dogs outside and making the morning coffee. Missy bound out the back door, but Maddie stayed in her bed. She had given up sleeping with me a few weeks earlier. She could no longer jump up on the bed and preferred her little mattress on the floor next to me. She had been sleeping more than usual, but at the ripe old age of sixteen she was entitled to take her time waking up.

I finished my morning ritual and headed off to work. Missy was at the door when I returned. She was running back and forth to my bedroom, baking for me to follow. Maddie was still in her bed. I reached down to love on her when I noticed she had messed on herself. I gently picked her up, cleaned her off, and placed her on the bed next to me. Missy sat at attention with a concerned look on her face. Maddie hadn’t eaten in a couple of days and now she even refused the dog treat I offered her. I knew it was her time. I began to sob uncontrollably, hugging my sweet Maddie as she laid her head in my lap.

I agonized over the decision I knew I had to make. Maybe she had caught a bug, or it was something she ate and she’ll be better in the morning. I knew it was simply wishful thinking. She had lived a long full life, loving those of us who God put in her path – at Samaritan House, with her caretaker, and with me. She was a rescue dog who really the rescuer. I had been given time with her I never expected and now couldn’t think of life without Maddie. Even Missy could sense that the end was near and come over to love on Maddie and I.

I didn’t sleep much that night. I checked on Maddie frequently through the night to make sure she was comfortable. When morning came, I told Craig what I had to do. He sat down with me in our morning coffee spot – his garage wood shop – and asked if he could pray for us. We prayed together; both choking back the tears. He shared my pain and knew he couldn’t fix the problem. He could be there for me. I’ve been blessed by the people God has put in my life as well. That point isn’t lost on me.

I got showered and dressed slowly. Every moment felt like a weight keeping me down and struggling to just “be”. I wrapped a blanket around Maddie and gently picked her up. Missy followed us to the truck and stopped short. She knew that it would only be Maddie and I leaving today. I think she knew that only I would be returning.

I drove to the Humane Society shelter – the same one Maddie had come from all those years ago – and explained our situation to the receptionist. I couldn’t afford a veterinarian, but I couldn’t let Maddie suffer any longer. She was so kind and said to simply donate what I could at another time. She called the veterinary tech while I left to bring Maddie from the truck.

We went to a private room behind the office. There the tech explained to me what he was going to be doing, that Maddie would simply go to sleep, and asked if I wanted to stay with Maddie. There was no question. I had to be there to love her until the end. He then brought out the syringe and administered the shot. “It might take a few minutes”, he said, “because her metabolism has slowed so much.” I wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. I didn’t want to leave Maddie, but I felt myself breaking down. Maddie’s breath began to slow. She looked at me one last time as I held her.

Maddie took her last breath and died in my arms. The tech said to take as much time as I needed. The receptionist brought me a note, thanking Maddie for her years of service to the HIV community and with it a note about the Rainbow Bridge:

“Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together….”

Author unknown…

I don’t know if the man I saw was going through these same feelings or the same situation. What I do know is that whatever he was going through his faithful companion would be there until the end. That’s what dogs do.

One of my favorite author, Brennan Manning, tells a story of watching a dog being dumped on the side of the road. As the car sped off, the dog ran down the road chasing the car, pursuing his owner with all his might even though he was rejected and abandoned. God is like that with us. Regardless of how much we have rejected and abandoned Him he pursues us with His unwavering love and forgiveness, wanting to be with us every no matter what.

I guess that’s why Dog is God spelled backwards…

Acceptance, Aging, Belief, Christianity, Community, Connection, Consequences, Down On the Farm, Emotional Health, Environment, Faith, Farmers Markets, Food Deserts, Food Equality, Food Insecurity, Food Justice, Gardening, Generations, God's Economics, Grace, Gratitude, Health, Neighbors, Non-Profits, Persistence, Practice, Service to Others, Simplicity, Social Justice, Spirituality, Thoughts From the Porch, Unity Unlimited, Inc., Urban Farming, Volunteers

Bumps in the Road

gregoryjoel

It’s been an interesting Spring at Opal’s Farm. I’ve been busier than a one-armed paper hanger as my uncle used to say.

For one thing, I received a letter from the Social Security Administration this week. It said I’ve reached the age where I am now considered retired. I have to laugh when I realize Ms. Opal “retired” the year after I graduated high school. If that’s what retirement looks like, then I’m grateful for it. It means I can focus on loving and serving others full-time just like her. At ninety-eight, she reminds me that she just keeps running forward so the good Lord can’t catch her to take her home. Besides, there’s so much more to do. Especially now…

The other thing that happened is a little less humorous. My left knee blew out on me last Wednesday as I was putting tools away for the day. That wouldn’t have been unusual as it tends to happen now that I’m old enough to suffer the consequences of an overactive youth. This time was different. It didn’t stop hurting the next day and the pain was in a different part of my knee and increasing rather than decreasing. I decided Friday afternoon I had better go to the ER and have it checked out.

Fortunately, nothing is broken, but since X-rays don’t show cartilage or ligament damage, I’ll be seeing the orthopedic surgeon this week. Moreover, the ER doc said I had a lot of arthritis, and the next step was a knee replacement. I feared that might be the case. I guess I’ll find out this week. It’s a pretty big bump in the road.

He also told me to take steroids and pain medicine, wear the immobilizer, use the crutches, and stay off my knee for a few days. I can take medication. I can use the immobilizer most of the time. I can even use the crutches sometimes. However, for a farmer four days of bed rest isn’t possible this time of year. My doctor and I have an agreement – I don’t tell him how to practice medicine and he doesn’t tell me how to farm.

I went market and “Taste the C.U.R.E” class yesterday. If people ask me what happened I simply tell the truth – I got older!

I guess there’s more news to come and a lot of decisions to be made. I’ll just hobble along and work on the farm until then. I’m going to be much slower so I’m extra grateful for the volunteers we have right now. Spring is the busiest time of year for farmers and Opal’s is no exception. The farm still needs daily care. I’ll be there as long as the good Lord lets me, but we need extra volunteer help right now. Please think of us if you have a little spare time and want to get you’re hands dirty. After all, dirt don’t hurt.

Community, Connection, Creation, Down On the Farm, Environment, Faith, God's Economics, Gratitude, Neighbors, Non-Profits, Opal's Farm, Regeneration, Relationships, Service Organizations, Service to Others, Simplicity, Spirituality, Thoughts From the Porch, Urban Farming

The Gang is Back

gregoryjoel

July is almost over, and this may well be only the second time I’ve posted this month. We’ve been unseasonably cool (and wet!) off and on this summer. We are below our twenty-four triple digit days average. We’re enjoying the cooler weather, since August is right around the corner. It’s the hottest month of the year here so anytime it’s below a hundred degrees it’s a pleasant cool summer day…

The national news and the upcoming General Election have garnered the public’s attention over the last couple of weeks. I’d love to chime in on that front, but lately I’ve found I simply need to concentrate on what’s right in front of me and turn off the political noise that surrounds me – for my own sanity. I still plan to exercise my civic duty and vote – which I hope each one of you does – but I need to step back, turn on the music instead of National Public Radio, and spend my days working and enjoying the beauty of the farm, friends, and family.

We get to see some beautiful birds at the farm. A Great Blue Heron couple has made their nest somewhere on the overgrown sandbar south of the farm. Snowy Egrets frequent the banks of the Trinity looking for fish and small marine animals. We have a Cooper’s Hawks that lives close by (that eliminates the bird threat to our tomatoes) and even a Bald Eagle that comes around (although extremely infrequently).

Twice a year, usually during Spring and Fall planting, the Cattle Egrets, the Cowbirds as we always called them, drop in to eat the small insects that preparing for planting and turning beds usually brings out. They are much smaller than their Snowy brothers, and always come in groups – sometimes three or four groups on different areas of the farm and they’re always entertaining. Their little tan mohawk pops up and their jowls vibrate every time I come close.

Inevitably, there is always one outlier, one whose curiosity outweighs his fear, and always sticks around when the rest of the flock (which seems to be more like a gang!) flies away. He’ll follow me to see what’s going on and often looks at me as if saying “What’s up?”. I am under no illusion – I anthropomorphize our feathery friends – and it’s probably all in my imagination, but hey, I worked alone at the farm for a long time before Joey, Greg, and the guys came. I found my community amongst my wild feathery and furry friends.

One of the things I love about Opal’s Farm is the relationship we have with the wildlife on and around the farm. I take pride in knowing that our animal friends fit right into the environment we labor in. Each has an important place in how the farm operates – even what most consider to be pests. Don’t get me wrong: a pest is a problem, but nature has a way of dealing with them if we just let it take its course.

We have a ton of field mice at the farm. Most are field rats, but I call them mice because that’s what our volunteers would rather hear. There’s nothing more frustrating than picking a gorgeous watermelon or cantaloupe and finding a large hole in the bottom where a mouse had dinner. However, we lose more melons to two-legged predators than we do to mice and rats because we have coyotes, bobcats, rat snakes, and hawks that keep the rodent population manageable. When the ecosystem is in balance it takes care of itself.

We choose regenerative agriculture precisely for this reason. Nature does a far better job of keeping things in check than any chemical pest or weed control can ever do. It doesn’t have negative consequences either. Most of all, I get to enjoy it every day and be thankful to a creator that already took care of any problems I have in this regard. What a way to live life.

I’m getting ready to head to the farm again. I’m grateful for the rain we’ve had in July, but the reality is that it just isn’t enough during any North Texas summer. I’ll run the irrigation, prep a couple of beds, and hope my Egret friends drop by…

(An important aside – my wife’s father passed away on Friday. I’ll most likely be gone a couple of days this week. If you’re a praying person, please offer some prayers for my wife, Margaret, and her family.)

4th of July, Community, Connection, Down On the Farm, Emotional Health, Events, Faith, Family, Fireworks, Gratitude, Marginalized, Non-Profits, Quotes, Relationships, Revival, Simplicity, Social Justice, Spirituality, Thoughts From the Porch, Trinity River, Unity Unlimited, Inc., Urban Farming

Post Cookout Thoughts

gregoryjoel


It’s been a month since I’ve been able to sit down and write. I’ve tried several times mind you, but June is not conducive to writing time. Juneteenth activities and events begin at the end of May and conclude with the Volunteer Appreciation Picnic on July 4th. I hope everyone had a wonderful Juneteenth and 4th of July. Ms. Opal always reminds us that freedom needs to be for everyone – the oppressed and the oppressor – and celebrations should go on from Juneteenth until July 4th.

I rarely get a moment to simply stop and take in the annual 4th of July Volunteer Appreciation Cookout. It’s in it’s fifth year and I’ve never witnessed the fireworks show. I’m usually trying to get cleaned up so I can go home soon after the show is over. It’s a holiday for most folks, but a really long workday for me. Still, I love to take a moment to look at the crowd of folks that come each year. I find joy in that moment as I see the diversity and joy of life in it all.

I look across the crowd and smile. It’s an example for what our neighborhoods and communities could be the other 364 days a year. There are no racial or ethnic barriers, no religious or cultural barriers. Class doesn’t keep people separate from one another. It’s simply a great evening to be shared by everyone. Food and fireworks are great unifiers. Although I’m usually worn out from a long day of preparation and grilling, I really don’t want it to end. Reality hits as the parking lot empties and it will probably be another 365 days until our little community can enjoy another day together.

I need to have the image of unity even if it is only one day of the year. I need the hope that one day we as a people can move beyond the deep divisions that perpetuate the “Us” and “Them” mentality. I need to be reminded that it’s possible for us to experience real community without regard to race, sexual preference, disability, class, or political affiliations. Otherwise, I succumb to a serious case of the “F*** it’s”. I stand on the line between apathy and empathy a lot these days.

Watching the picnic remined me of the prophet Isaiah’s vision of a world where human relationships are rooted in God’s presence:

I will rejoice in Jerusalem

And delight in my people;

No more will the sound of weeping be heard in it,

Or the cry of distress.

No more shall there be in it an infant that lives but a few days,

Or an old person who does not live out a lifetime:…

Before they call I will answer,

While they are yet speaking I will hear.

The wolf and the lamb shall feed together,

The lion shall eat straw like an ox:

But the serpent – its food will be dust!

They shall not hurt or destroy

On all my holy mountain, says the Lord.

                                                                                                Isaiah 65.19-20, 24-25

I live with the hope that day is coming. For now, I’ll enjoy our day of food and fun…



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Empowering You

gregoryjoel

I hope everyone is staying hydrated and healthy now that summer seems to have started in earnest. We’re hanging in there and keeping the summer crops watered to keep bringing you fresh, healthy, LOCAL produce (you can’t get much more local when you’re right next to downtown!).

We have so much to pass on to you all. June has been an amazing month already and Juneteenth is right around the corner. One of the Juneteenth events you shouldn’t miss is the Empowering You – Education, Health, and Job Fair to be held tomorrow and Saturday at the Trinity River Campus of Tarrant County College. See the attached flyer for details and while you’re there, come see us at the Opal’s Farmstand.