At Home with Max

Max was one of the first dogs I met at the Humane Society of York County. The cute little guy reminded me of my terrier mix, Jack. I took Max to an adoption event early on, and I've walked him at the shelter several times since. Every time I go back, I think he'll be gone, that someone has taken him home. Alas, not yet. So I decided to break him out of there until that day arrives.

I've never taken a dog home without the intention of keeping him forever, so I wasn't sure what to expect. My concerns were the same, I'm sure, as anyone who plans to keep a dog in the house: accidents, barking and chewing. I'm happy to say, after spending a week with Max, he's been found not guilty on all three counts.

Max must have been potty trained at some point. I haven't seen him hike his leg on anything in the house, and that's the number one thing I look for in a male dog. He's enjoying the freedom of our fenced backyard immensely, but he also loves to be taken on walks. Just like my terrier mix, it's hard to totally wear him out, because he could go for miles.

Max loves to be outside, even if it's just to sit out on the deck. In the house, he wants to be near you most of the time, just like my pug, Gizmo. Max can also relax on his own if you need to do something without him. He goes in his crate with little problem, although he'd rather sleep in the bed with you or be free to roam around when you're gone. He doesn't make any fuss overnight, however, he does get quite excited when you come back to let him out of his cage.

Max gets along fairly well with my other two dogs, but he may do better in a home where he's the only pet. There have been a few scuffles, as to be expected, but it's only been a week. I'm sure, over time, everyone would get used to each other and things would be just dandy. My own dogs have spats from time to time, and they've been together for two years now.

Overall, Max is a sweet, loveable dog that anyone would be lucky to have. He'd be great for someone who's looking for a companion to just hang out with or go on adventures. Will you be the one to give him a "fur"ever home?

https://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/34174135
http://www.humanesocietyofyorkcounty.org
https://www.facebook.com/HSYC.animals
https://www.instagram.com/humanesocietyofyorkcounty
https://twitter.com/HSYCPUPSKITS

8177 Regent Pkwy
Fort Mill, SC
(803)802-0902

Religious Roots

When I started training to be a dog walker at a shelter in Fort Mill, SC, the volunteer took me along the preferred route: cross the street, go up the hill, take a right down the abandoned road, turn around at the end and come back. On the street where traffic could not go, I noticed right away I was walking through what used to be a grand entrance of some sort: the two way traffic setup, divided by a median with tall trees. It was in my imagination anyway. The current landscaping left a lot to be desired.

The more I walked, the more I wondered, "What was here? Something big must have been here." Once I began following other dog walking paths, I found another clue: a big slab of concrete where some structure once stood. And in the distance, every day, there was the sight of that big high-rise with the broken windows and huge parking lot. This is an old picture I found online. The building with the domes is still there. The fence is not.



My first thought: it was some sort of college campus, and the tower housed dorm rooms. But why the fancy entrance then? Then I rationalized it was an assisted living complex. But then what had stood nearby on that concrete plot, and why was it torn down?

I finally got my answer last week. I discovered a new, longer path around the lake, and another, far more seasoned volunteer, ended up alongside me with her dog of the day. I asked her if she knew what had been here, before all of the new housing developments and dog walking took over. She said, "You've heard of Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker?" I said, "Yes." She said, "This was Heritage U.S.A."

You know the Bakkers: the PTL Club televangelists who ended up ruined by money and sex scandals? It turns out I've been walking dogs smack dab in the middle of what used to be their Christian-themed amusement park! It opened the year I was born and attracted millions of visitors, until it closed in the late 1980s. That slab of concrete? A castle stood there. The high-rise? It was supposed to be a hotel, but I don't think it was ever finished. There was also an amphitheater, a water park, a train...all of the typical theme park attractions.

I found this picture of the castle online, and it best represents what I see when I walk. The bridge over the lake is still there. I walk through a housing development to get to it. Starting in the bottom right corner of this photo, I go across the bridge, up the steps in front of the domes, then head back through a field just to the right of the castle, I mean, empty concrete slab. Then it's pretty much a straight shot back to the shelter.



Isn't that crazy? I can't wait to go back this week and look for more park remnants. From what I can tell, the whole thing was torn down only a few years ago. So I missed my chance to truly explore it. But, I knew I was onto something...

The Reality of Resolutions

My last blog was six weeks ago. So I should have several in the can by now, if I had kept up with my goal. But, I'm blogging now. Pat on the back.

I have kept up with volunteering at the animal shelter, and I love it. I do feel pangs of guilt for neglecting my dogs and going to play with others. But Jack and Gizmo get plenty of love when I get home, along with plenty of smells. I have fallen in love with a few shelter dogs, but so far I have not taken any home.

Yoga never happened. I was getting so much exercise walking the shelter dogs at first, for free, I thought, "Why should I pay for a yoga class?" Truth is, I can do yoga at any time. For free. In my living room. There are two mats in the closet, right by the TV, along with the yoga DVDs or plenty of videos on youtube. Just need to set my mind to it.

Meditation went well for awhile, but that, too, has fallen by the wayside. I'm hoping because I'm less stressed and don't need it as much? I tend to meditate when I'm having difficulty. Same thing with praying. And though the past few weeks have not been all rosy, things are getting better in the "what is my purpose" department.

I've completely stopped the brain games (Lumosity). It was fun at first, but I just got bored with it. And I didn't feel like it was doing me much good. I'll stick to reading ebooks and tons of articles on other ways to get smarter.

The classical music? Love. Pretty much a daily habit. It's calming, relaxing, peaceful, lovely...and I feel very intellectual when I'm listening to it. Like I need to have a library, with many leather bound books, and wear my glasses, though I tire of them easily.

Like this blog, I haven't touched my journal in six weeks. Probably too much to ask of myself for today, but hopefully, I'll get back to it soon. It's another one of those things: if I don't sit down to do it, I won't. I default to flipping through my Facebook feed with the TV on in the background. FOMO?

Meanwhile, Pmo and I are still all about discovering new parks, mountains, eateries and breweries. And loving every minute of it. I tried to eat healthier yesterday. I had a salad. With my boneless wings. Dipped in teriyaki and honey BBQ. So freaking good!

Mental Makeover

At 37, I'm still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Unfortunately, the time has come to admit, I am well into adulthood and should know what I'm doing by now. And who I am.

I'm on a mission of self-improvement for the new year. Losing weight would be great, but I don't enjoy that pressure. And I like food. I am trying to eat better, just for the sake of living longer with less ailments. I'm always "trying". Willpower is a fickle beast. Especially when you live in a city with a restaurant on every corner.

What I am "into" right now: cerebral enhancements and soul searching. My passion for pups has led me to volunteer at an animal shelter. My struggles at work have steered me toward brain-training games, reading more books and listening to classical music to help me focus. My general disposition (the way I handle, or don't handle, stress/people/life) has driven me to take up daily meditation and possible bi-weekly yoga classes.

Writing lists and scheduling events helps me attempt to keep it all going. I'm more inclined to follow through when I see an activity on a calendar, and I haven't over-scheduled myself for the day. Getting, or staying out of the house helps. too. I can tell myself I'm going to do yoga when I get home 1,000 times. But the minute I hit that recliner, it's "Downton Abbey" episodes with a blanket and snacks.

I'm having to push myself in a way I've never thought necessary before. Even further outside my comfort zone than just moving away from home. There were several opportunities to attend the animal shelter volunteer training before I actually did it. I would come up with an excuse each time and say, "I'll go to the next one." Finally, the new year arrived, and I was out of excuses, so I just told myself, "you're going." This sort of thing is hard for an introvert. Meeting new people scares the you-know-what out of me. Being in unfamiliar places makes be uncomfortable. But I think I've finally realized, I truly just need to not "be me" sometimes, for the sake of personal growth. And those other activities that allow me to revert to my inner, quiet, self...become rewards for good behavior.

Writing more is another goal of mine. I've started another journal on my computer, because my handwriting is horrible, and I'm so used to typing all of the time anyhow. I've read plenty of articles that say getting all your thoughts down on paper is a very good way to release. Hopefully, blogging more will also become a regular habit in 2016. I've really slacked off in the past few years. I think I had almost 80 posts one year in the early days! My goal has always been at least once a week, but I've found one reason or another not to write. I'll fix that. Excuse me, while I go add "blog" to my list/calendar :)

The New Normal

My home is very empty. Not only of furnishings, but the usual sounds and smells. In fact, new ones are emerging: inactivity, staleness, sitting. Creaks and pops, waiting to be disguised again by the hustle and bustle of a full family. A regular routine. A lived life.

At the end of this year, which if you didn't notice is fast approaching, Pmo and I will have been together for nine years. In that time, we've rarely been apart. I take a few weekend trips each year to see girlfriends, but that's about it. We're very used to being together, doing things together and that's the way we like it. So, needless to say, it sucks when he's more than 500 miles away. Thank goodness for Skype.

Pmo's promotion took him to North Carolina, along with his and most of my possessions. We decided to go ahead with the move before I had secure employment so he could get on with his new role. I'm hanging back until 1. the house sells or 2. I get a new job in Charlotte. We really like the area, so I'm eager to get down there and start exploring our new city together.

Before I start sounding too "woe is me", I know the situation is harder on Pmo. He's the one alone in a new place, though thankfully he knows a few people. I have familiar surroundings and the dogs to take care of and keep me company. I also don't mind being alone. But still, it's just not right being without him.

This weekend, I will mow grass for the first time in more than a decade, possibly longer, I can't even remember. I'll have to take the trash out to the curb Sunday night. I won't be able to turn in early and let someone else take the dogs out. I won't be treated to a great breakfast, then asked with much anticipation, "What are we going to do today?"

But, hopefully, our routine will be back soon, and things will be righted again. Many things will be different though. The dogs will have a fenced yard and no longer need leashes to keep them safe. Trash day will move from Monday to Thursday. We'll have to find a new place for our Friday night happy hour. The smell of bacon and hashbrowns will return, but in a different kitchen. Life, as we know it, will be full again.

The Bucket List

Mom tells me many a story about Dad, but I found this one particularly funny.

He came in the house one day mumbling something about a bucket. And she says, "What?" He says, "I need to get a bucket of lyme. I need to put that on my bucket list."

She says, "Oh." And let it go. For a second or two.

Then she says, "Wait, bucket list? You need to put a bucket of lyme on your bucket list?"

He says, "Yeah, that's what I said."

Still trying to process what she heard, and what he must be thinking, she says, "Do you know what a bucket list is?"

He waits a moment and says, "I guess not."

Then she proceeds to tell him what a bucket list is.

He apparently took the term a bit too literally.

The end.

The Griddle

Mom got us a griddle for Christmas. Among many other things. The woman goes overboard. Anyway, when I took the old griddle to Goodwill, I somehow, accidentally, put the new cord with it. So now we had a new griddle, with the wrong cord, and no way to cook pancakes. We even looked online to see if we could order the part separately. No dice.

Fast forward to the day after Valentine's Day when we came back from Brown County to pick up the dogs at her house. I had debated on telling her the story, because frankly I was embarrassed that I could do such a stupid thing and ruin a perfectly good griddle. But I decided, what the hell, she might think it's funny. So I tell her. Then she goes outside and comes back in with another griddle! Pmo and I were flabbergasted. I said, "Where did you get that?" She says, "Out of my van."

If you didn't know her, you'd probably think this was strange. If you do know her, you'd know this is dead-on Darlene.