prayerful of dreams - 2008-06-28
preschool princess - 2008-06-16
life with my sweetheart - 2008-04-29
the fast approach of four - 2008-04-12
lighting up my own life - 2008-03-08
2002-02-04 - 12:07 p.m.
It is amazing, how you can become lost in a maze of memories. I reached into the shelf for one, and they all seemed to topple down on me, and last night, I could not sleep, for fear I would forget them again. I tried to capture my flickering like butterflies memories. I wanted to touch each and every one of them, before sleep came to collect me. and the one, that I most want to write about right now, is about a dog.
But, not just any dog. The most amazing dog that ever lived. You see, it was the summer of 1981. And mom and dad packed the five of us angels into the wood paneled station wagon, and for good measure piled in leaky coolers filled with generic cans of soda and soggy tuna fish sandwiches, a portable playpen, diapers, crayons and colouring books, beach toys, blankets and pillows, osh kosh kid clothes, underoos in every size, a map, potato chips, and enough candy to keep us steadily sugared up. and off we went. Destination, Cape Cod.
A few long suffering hours later, we pulled up to our supposed dream motel on the beach. Well, it was a motel indeed. I am not to sure about the dream part. We spilled out of the wagon, like clowns out of a circus car, and started running around the parking lot in wild chaotic kid ways, while our poor overburdened parents, had the task of unloading everything, and trying to turn the "Family Deluxe Suite " complete with vibrating beds, and threadbare brown covers into a suitable home for a family of 7. Tara's crib was tucked into one corner, and Alyssa and I were assigned to the adjoining twin room, and Brett and Erin, slept in the big bed with mom and dad. Once, everything was perfectly in place, we decided to set off for the beach.
It takes about an hour, to get 5 kids into swim suits, and slathered in sun block, and rations that were unpacked must now be re packed. We climbed down the cement stairs of our ( sub par) Dream Motel and began the trechorous path to the supposed beach. Well, about 30 bug bites later, and numerous complaints about hot asphalt and sharp pebbles, we made it to the muddy clump of sand. that was our beach. It was far from the beach on the brochure, but the water was cool and off we ran, our starfish limbs spread out in joy as we dove into the Ocean. Salt water invades your entire being, your nose stings and the saltiness makes your throat sore, but you do not care, because it is such a spectacular feeling to be in the embrace of the waves, floating in the rolling tide. We collected the slimy shells and filled our buckets over and over, not caring that as fast as we built the sand castles, the possessive sea came roaring back and reclaimed it. It was us against the speed of the ocean, our long legs running into the water, scooping up whatever we could and racing to the receding shore to try it all over again. an endless game that plays out, on every sandy shore in the world. and that was when we first spotted him
I was pouring water into the sand moat, when I looked up and saw a yellow dog, happily chasing a frisbee. Two tanned college age shirtless boys, in courdoroy shorts with lean muscled torso's I can only now appreciate, were tossing the frisbee to one another. And the yellow dog, would run between them barking, and sometimes hurling himself into the air, and stealing it mid toss. and when he did, his cheeky shenanigans would make the boys laugh. I was mesmorized by this scene, not even stopping to notice the water swirling around my feet, as yet again, the sea swept clean away, my sand castle.
I watched for a long time, and then ran to my towel for some shade and to get a snack. Shortly afterwards, my parents decided to call it a day, and packed up our things and off we headed, Begrudgingly, limping behind them, bringing back, what seemed like half the sand, from the beach, inside our swimsuits. We showered and changed and polished our faces, and combed our hair, and went out to dinner at some random barnacle House of Crab Restaurant/shack.. Only the family best, for the best family. Six plates brimming with deep fried offerings from the sea. and buttery garlic bread. and me lingering by the lobster tank, looking into the sad eyes of each and every one of them, and begging my parents to buy them, so we could set them free. and getting back into the family wagon, crying, because they said no. and then pulling up to the motel, and 5 very sleepy children, stumbling up the steps to our room, number 16, with a broken 6, and seeing that the door, is slightly ajar. This is puzzling, and then we can hear a sound coming from the room, it sounds like something rattling. My mother is nervous, and my father, pushes open the door, and tells us to all stay outside on the balcony while he checks it out. He inches forward, grabbing a toy baseball bat for protection should he need it. And, of course, we disobey completely and all file in slowly after him, and walk through the one room, and we can see discarded luncheon meat wrappers, spread out on the floor. Very myseterious indeed! A hungry burglar? and still the rattling sound is edging closer, and with our hearts in our throats, we peek around into the little back twin room, and there *he* is, looking at us, quizically. It is the yellow dog The frisbee bandit.
We are thrilled, and squeal with delight,. Five little kids, throw there arms around his neck, and my parents realize that the rattling sound had been yellow dog's collar. My parents are not to pleased, but relieved it is not a burglar. Five little voices start begging in unison" can we keep him, please? Can we keep him?? huh ? Huh? please??" My father says of course not, that he must belong to someone, and off he marches to the motel office, to report the disturbance, dragging yellow dog with him. And 10 minutes later he returns, with yellow dog trailing his every step. The people in the office said, that he had been hanging out with 2 college kids, but they had checked out. and told my dad, to just leave yellow dog outside . While he was telling this to my mother, we were all clustered around, my fathers leg, tugging on his arms, pulling on his trousers.. please please can we keep him? our highpitched rant in many beseeching squeals. " absolutely not" answered my father and then he walked yellow dog to the door, opened it, and motioned for him to go out. Yellow dog, smiled and bouced out the door, and then looked back, as if to say " aren't you coming too?" and then my father emphatically slammed shut the door.
Five little kids burst into sobs. My mothers face was visibly upset, and my father, although the stern voice of reason, in one instant he was catapulted into the role of the MOST HATED MAN in the universe. And then, there was a faint rapping at the door. My father, innocently thinking it was the management offering us some kind of "sorry your room was broken into and your cooler of rations violated" upgrade, opened the door. There stood yellow dog. He nodded at my father. and calmly strolled back inside. My father was a bit stunned at this point. and clearly defeated. and he mumbled something about, " ok ok, he can stay, but only for one night! Tomorrow, I am going to take him into town and find out who he belongs to. He has a collar on kids, don't get all attached, he belongs to someone. " and we nodded our heads, never doubting for a moment, that he belonged to someone alright. he belonged to us. and he knew it. and we knew it. and that was good enough.
So, that night, we are all tucked into our assorted beds, and yellow dog was laying in the room, with alyssa and I, and in the middle of the night, he goes over to my father, and softly taps him with his paw. My grumbling father rolls over, and tells yellow dog, to " go lay down" Yellow dog, softly taps him again. The same dance continues, yellow dog, tapping, daddy rolling over, and yelling at yellow dog, and finally exasperated, my father jumps up and says '" well, fine, out you go then" and opens the door, and lets out yellow dog. and then thinking all his problems are solved, daddy climbs back into bed, and just as he is about to fall back to sleep, there is a tap tap rapping at the door, a scratching sound, if you will. Completely astonished, my incredulous father gets back up and opens the door, to what he now deems the nerviest dog he has ever met. Yellow dog came sauntering back in, and headed to the twin room, tossing a backward glance at my father as if to say " hey, thanks" .
The next morning, as we ate our rice crispies out of plastic motel room cups, we laughed about all the fun we were going to have with yellow dog that day. and my father, told us not to get our hopes up because he was taking him into town. and we were heartbroken, but knew that we could not stop him.
Off he went, to get his paper and coffee in town. He called yellow dog, to follow him, and 5 tear stained faces watched from the grimy window, as daddy opened the car door and in jumped trusting yellow dog. My father drove around town a bit, and opened the window, and told yellow dog to bark if he saw his house. Yellow dog just smiled and hung his head out the window, to feel the salt water breeze ruffling his fur and make his yellow ears flap in the breeze. When they arrived in the center of town, yellow dog jumped out, and my father sternly yelled " go home, boy" and off yellow dog ran. My father, was quite pleased with this turn of events. He figured that yellow dog suddenly remembered where he lived and went running back to his cape cod home. So, daddy bought his news paper and coffee and a few more rations, and then he got back in the station wagon, and drove back to the motel, relieved that yellow dog was now safely ensconsed whereever it was that he came from.
So, When my father finally walked back into the motel room, what to his wondering eyes did he find? Five giggling children and one beaming, clever yellow dog. Apparently, yellow dog, had enjoyed the car ride, and when my father had told him to go home, well, he did just that, indeed. Somehow he had made it back to the motel, a few winding miles away, and to add to the indignity of my poor father, he had even beaten him back home ! Kudos to yellow dog, considering he was on foot, this was *impressive* indeed.
My father knows defeat when he is looking into the warm, brown eyes, wet, soft, black nose of it. So he said, "ok ok, he can stay for the week. But he is NOT COMING HOME WITH US!!! AND THAT IS FINAL!!!!" We all bobbed our heads in unison, feigning agreement, fully knowing that if it came down to it, we would be willing to secure some kind of kiddie legal counsel, against our father, if he refused to let us take yellow dog home. But kids know how there parents work, they know all there weaknesses and the many empty threats, and how they operate, and we knew we had won. but we just didn't know how it was gonna play out. Yellow dog 3 points, daddy O !!
(part two is next)
old starlight - new starbright
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