The Only Gift I Have, For Mother's Day

Because I’m a starving artist, I don’t often have the means to treat my family to the wonderful things they deserve. And when holidays like Mother’s Day come up, I don’t know how to give without going even more broke.

This year an opportunity came up to write an essay with the grand prize being a day package to Olympus Day Spa.
Here is the essay I wrote. (ps. I WON! pps: You want to win with the wife/girlfriend Get her a package here)
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My mother has always and ever been a fighter, and a lover. A fighter because she has an iron will to accomplish the impossible. A lover, because no amount of hardship or mountains she had to cross would ever dampen her spirit of generosity.

When I was a little girl, I lived in a fantasy world. Most children do, but mine was filled with Tigers, and Elephants and magic. My mother was a dresser for a stage show at the MGM Grand in Reno, NV. I was the stage brat running around under dancers feet and weaving in and out of the catacombs of a theater that was very much a little Neverland.

I never knew how poor we truly were.

I remember one Christmas distinctly. We had a huge roast turkey and all of the trimmings. There were presents under the tree and a fire in the hearth. She took my hand and led me and my younger brother into a homeless shelter where we spend the morning serving others. For me it was a game. And when we came home I won the prize of a wishbone. What I didn’t know that my mother had barely been able to afford the turkey, let alone any presents. We were at the bottom of the bottom for income, surviving on table scraps while she worked full time to support myself and my younger brother. But to us, it was ever an adventure. Rain or shine, she loved life and made sure we did too.

Years later I would finally understand it. How she would go without so that we could have. How she would smile so that we would know that everything was ok. I remember living in a dream world because my mother made it so. She allowed us to be kids. She allowed me to be a young girl who discovered the world on my own terms. She held me when I hurt, taught me when I was wrong, and led me to be the best person I can be.

My mother taught me to be a woman who loves first, questions second and commits to the ones I love with an undying devotion.

The Heart of Beethoven

So my mother has this inherit knack for finding poor lost animals. There was the black Pot-bellied pig running down the interstate she mistook for a dog. The 2 dogs outside a big box mart that she just couldn’t separate. The cat named Mr. Murder in honor of the film she was working on that magically hopped in the transpo van and decided he was staying. Buddy the golden retriever that dug his way IN to our yard. There was a turtle, a horse, another dog, a litter of kittens, another dog and a partridge in a pair tree.

I’m sad to say because of this I am now immune to their cute pathetic plight.

Then Beethoven happened. (*click link to see video*)

This little guy is aptly named for his condition: he’s deaf. He’s also smart as any jack russell terrier that has ever lived. He already knows hand signs for “No” “Come” and “Sit.” He’s learning to heel but I’m convinced this is more because he figures if he follows you he won’t get lost and he can’t hear the dog barking at him from he opposite direction.

Beethoven is a-friggin-dorable. And I’ve been sucked in. He’s smart enough to yip when he needs something and manages to communicate what that is more effectively than some humans I know. So what if he walks like he’s drunk, he has no balance due to deafness so back off!

We’ve noticed he is slightly afraid of the dark and terrified of stairs. But with practice and treats three weeks ago he went up them all by himself. Down he still needs practice and set of hands ready to catch him if he falls, but he’s learning. He’s so smart. He watches and observes everything. He calculates and the decides if or what he needs to do. Usually with a bounce to his step and a wag in his tail. He absolutely loves life.

Sometimes I wonder about Gods plan and the universe in general. How do you decide what’s right and what’s wrong? Are you making choices just for you or for some higher grace? Beethoven has given us a challenge like no dog before him and no dog after him ever will. You can’t just call out to him, you have to touch him. You have to be involved in his learning. If our purpose in having a dog was to teach us to be better parents, little Beethoven was perfect for that. He was not a demanding dog, but he required that you love him unconditionally so that he may return the favor.

Beethoven died today….

His little body has not been doing well for a little over a week. We’ve tried every tactic under the sun to give him a happy home that made him healthy, but he caught a cold that turned into an infection and weather the infection attacked his body, or his body couldn’t sustain through the infection his organs started to fail. Everything but his heart. His eyes asked for the pain to stop, he huddled close the those he loved most and had come to know as his family. He nuzzled close, just had always done right before bed time.

There are no words to describe the void in my heart. Perfect strangers, young and old wanted to touch him, even if only for a moment. Perfect strangers who wouldn’t help their best friend move, wanted to reach out and say hello to this little guy. Perfect strangers noticed him from across the street or down the block, because when Beethoven walked down the street, there was a wiggle to his step that said life is beautiful, and needs to be treasured.

Watch the Beethoven Slide-Show