Tag Archives: molly

July 5, 2011 · 23:18

Thoughts on Smoke, Suicides, Gracie Jane, the Media Legal System and I guess I’m not Patriotic

Gracie Jane…the Boston Legal Nancy Grace

Today was one of those weird days. I got up relatively early for a day off only to have my morning interrupted by a page from the Emergency Room to deal with a suicide. I showered and drove in to work knowing what the outcome was going to be even though our staff was trying heroically to save the patient.  On the way in I was reminded of Iraq once again as I drove through the dense smoke which has enshrouded our region from one of several wild fires.

Last night I had been out watching the Independence Day fireworks with Judy and our little dog Molly on the beach about a quarter of a mile from the Island Hermitage and I did pretty wel`l, though Molly did better. While I was occasionally flashing back to watching artillery and illumination rounds and hearing that infernal 122 rocket flying over me in Baghdad as well as being nervous in the large crowds that surrounded me I didn’t melt down despite some very close blasts from individuals firing some pretty large firework charges above our heads. Maybe it was the unflappable attitude of Molly. Molly isn’t afraid of anything and maybe her looking up and occasionally barking at the infernal things both comforted and amused me. However I digress….

I got to the ER sustained by a large cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee and found that our staff could not save the life of the individual. I have dealt with far too many suicides in the military where it seems to be epidemic now days as well as in my time as an ER and Trauma department Chaplain in major civilian medical centers. There are people that condemn those that commit suicide to hell and call it an “unpardonable sin.” I can’t do that. Suicide is a tragedy no matter when it happens and it is happening far too often among the ranks of our Active Duty, Reserve and National Guard forces and to those retired or discharged from the military.  I spent some time and with our staff as well as some of his senior enlisted leaders who were obviously affected by this and quietly said a prayer of commendation at the bedside.  This is a tragedy one that will unfortunately keep occurring even as Congress contemplates cuts to the force that include the Mental Health Professionals and Chaplains that are the last line of defense for these young men and women.  But then what value are the lives of the men and women that fight our wars compared to not raising the taxes for the incredible wealthy that profit off of our wars and the sacrifices of the troops.

When I got home Judy and I took a drive up to Beaufort North Carolina where we had lunch at Finz, a bar and grill. As always we sat in the bar and while eating lunch noticed a commotion. A waitress from the restaurant side rushed in and changed the channel from the peaceful natural disasters reported by the Weather Channel to Headline News where Gracie Jane (Nancy Grace, Gracie Jane is the caricature Nancy created by the writers of Boston Legal played with gusto by Jill Brennan) was having a conniption fit that Casey Anthony was found not guilty of killing her daughter in one of the most sensational trials since the O. J. Simpson trial.

Now I didn’t watch the trial my faith in the Media Legal system having been crushed with the failure of the O. J. jury to find him guilty and order him crushed to death with heavy stones. But evidently some jury in Florida where convicting someone of murder and having them put to death is a spectator sport failed to convict, something about reasonable doubt. It sounds to me that in such and environment that the prosecutors must have pulled a Marcia Clarke and botched the prosecution.  They should have petitioned to have the trial moved to Texas where they could have gotten the conviction and the death penalty. Even President Bush who never pardoned anyone as Governor couldn’t save the lady convicted of drowning her kids when she said she had repented when a jury convicted her of capital murder.

However, my friends as terrible as the verdict sounds as it seems justice has been denied, someone probably killed that little girl and will get away with it, the reaction of Gracie Jane was priceless as she was nearly apoplectic even saying that Satan must be having a “party in Hell” and that proving “reasonable doubt” an unfair burden to prosecutors.   But that is the way the Media Legal system works, Greta, Geraldo, Court TV and Gracie Jane, they thrive on trying these cases in the media and while our justice system is certainly imperfect and sometimes even insane ever person is due their day in court and it is the responsibility of prosecutors to prove guilt beyond reasonable doubt. These prosecutors had no direct evidence of the lady killing her daughter.  They had lots of circumstantial evidence even some pretty damning stuff from what Gracie Jane tells me but they couldn’t get a conviction. When I took a class in Military Law we were advised that if we didn’t believe that we could make the charges stick at a General Courts Martial in from of a judge and jury that it was inadvisable to charge soldiers with a crime, even if we were trying the case as a “non-judicial” case under Article 15 of the UCMJ. As a company commander I never lost because I made sure that if I charged someone that the evidence would prove guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.  These guys didn’t. They lost to better defense attorneys and someone got away with murder, manslaughter or child abuse. But the Media Legal system will never admit that they could be wrong in convicting people before a jury even gets the case. It’s a pity that Lincoln Meyer (a peeping Tom murderer played in a most creepy manner by David Dean Bottrell) couldn’t come up and clunk her on the head with a shovel like in Boston Legal).

Finally I ran afoul of a Tea Party partisan yesterday when I mentioned in his extended quote from the Declaration of Independence about removing despots and the right of people to revolt he cut off the quote where the Declaration says “Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes.” For this I was called everything but a Democrat, you’d think that I had spurned God and man for mentioning this. Instead the man and one of his friends set out to mock me as some kind of Constitution stomping, CNN and MSNBC watching infidel for my cautious and even distrustful views views in regard to the Tea Party movement and some of its leaders.  Of course when picked their arguments apart I got called more names was told that they were “Constitutionalists” and kept trying to shut me up. I had too much fun finally getting one to end his insulting comments aimed at me with “God Bless the USA!” Unfortunately when the phase is used to end an argument, insult the honor, integrity and intellectual honesty and question the patriotism of a fellow American it resonates about as well with me as much as “Heil Hitler!” did to Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

Evidently even though I have served the country in the military in peace and war the past 30 years including in combat I am less of a patriot than him or anyone else in the Tea Party.  Despite my personal victory today I fear for the worst when this man and others like him come to power. Dissent will be crushed as they use laws that they currently decry to punish their opponents or critics. Those that joined the movement out of legitimate frustration at the mess that Republicans and Democrats alike as well as most powerful supporters have made of this country will be sorely disappointed when they find that they are considered expendable to those that they put their trust in to deliver the country.

I personally find the often violent language and imagery used so flippantly by many the leaders of the Tea Party to be frightening. The use of such terms as evil, satanic, communist, Marxist or Fascist to characterize those that disagree with you is dangerous for it dehumanizes the other and appeals to the basest forms of human behavior.  The fact that some senior state organizers have links intellectual and economic to white supremacist groups and anti-government “militia” groups makes me even more nervous as do the unstated motivations of some of the principal financial backers the Koch brothers and Rupert Murdoch.  Contrary to what some believe this movement is not a movement of uneducated bumpkins to be trifled with. The Tea Party has money, media and power at its disposal it is not to be taken lightly even when its leaders make mistake after mistake concerning American history and the Constitution.

But it seems that none of them really studies history and that we have failed in teaching our people to learn from history, not the mythology that makes us feel good and warms our patriotic hearts. But according to the gentleman I must not have one of those. Oh well… God Bless the USA!

Well that’s all for tonight.

Peace

Padre Steve+

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March 27, 2011 · 15:08

No I will Not Grow Up: Some thoughts on my 51st Birthday

“It takes a long time to grow young.” Pablo Picasso

“I want to thank you for making this day necessary” Yogi Berra

Today is yet another anniversary of being forcibly evicted from my mother’s womb where I had taken a three week extension on my nine month lease. Ever since that time I have not acted my age….well maybe that’s not quite correct.  I think it is better said that I am aware of my age and pretend to act my age when the occasion requires that I do but deep inside I am still an incorrigible adolescent.  My brother who is six years my junior was 40 years old by the time that he turned eight.  He was always the serious one and when Judy and I took him on a toilet paper raid during my junior year in college he was scandalized.  Now that we adults he is still the serious one, I only get serious when I write about a serious subject or I’m in trouble.

Now when I was young in body as well as spirit I always was amazed and saddened to see people grow old. I don’t mean growing old in body because no one can get around that, but I mean growing old in spirit and losing their youth and joy in life.  It was sad for me to see people who really were not that old dressing and acting like they were older than their years. It made me want to never grow up, I didn’t want to be that way and as the people that know me can attest I am yet to grow up.  I still find the humor and irony in so many things and have to keep my humor in check sometimes in things like Board of Directors meetings and stuff like that; I do have a sense of decorum as misplaced as it often is.

I remember my paternal grandmother, “Granny” who when I was 5 years old and she was not much older than I am now was talking about how it wouldn’t be long until she was dead and gone. When she was 85 I pissed her off to ask if she was moving when she said it one too many times.  I think I got a call from my mom and dad about that one because Granny really got pissed.  I had an algebra teacher in junior high school named Mr. Nichley.  He looked really old then and dressed it and acted it. That was in 1974.  He just died a couple years back and was in his mid 80s, which meant that he was just in his 40s back then, he was a man too old before his time.  I saw so many people who lived their lives in that way that I rebelled against the thought of it.

Since I was born back in 1960 I can say that I was part of the 60s and that my views on life do not always square with my rather serious friends.  I really think that a lot of our political and ideological divisions in this country are because far too many people take everything too seriously. I know that we have a lot of serious issues that need serious answers but we have lost any sense of humor, levity and irony to face them well. Sometimes when I am around a lot of overly serious people I hear James Earl Jones telling Kevin Costner in Field of Dreams “Out! Back to the sixties! Back! There’s no place for you here in the future! Get back while you still can!”

We’ll I can’t go back to the 60’s but I can stay young.  I have resumed collecting baseball cards, still occasionally build model ships, tanks and aircraft, and try to stay active and I hope I can get on our hospital’s baseball team, if not this year maybe next. I do not own a suit. I have a few sports jackets (why they call them that I’ll never know because I have yet to see anyone playing baseball or football in one) and a few pairs of nice pants to go with my clerical shirts but only wear them when the occasion absolutely demands. For years Judy has tried and failed to get me to dress more upscale but I’d rather wear my wide array of baseball jerseys, fleeces and warm up jackets.  I try not to wear long pants after baseball season begins and until after the final game of the World Series unless absolutely necessary.  I always dreamed of being in the military as a kid and I am still in the military coming up on 29 years of total service despite being about as serious as Hawkeye Pierce and studious as Von Molkte the Elder. As Will Rogers said “Do the best you can, and don’t take life too serious.”

Tommy Lasorda said “I love doubleheaders. That way I get to keep my uniform on longer” well I have gotten to keep my uniform on a lot longer than most of the people that I have served with and still enjoy staying in the game. Life is good even when its not.

For me learning is part of staying young, I think that when we stop learning we start dying. This means that I will probably take up another advanced academic degree, not so much to increase my job opportunities after the Navy but because it keeps me young and engaged. The other part of remaining you is to know, love and believe in what you are doing in life.  In fact Will Rogers said that such was the secret of success. I think that so many people lose their joy because they have forgotten that little truth and that is another reason why we are in such a mess.

I try to stay fit and my doctors tell me that my blood pressure, cholesterol and other important measurements of health are those of people a lot younger than me.  My blood pressure is consistently about 105 over 70, not bad at all.

Finally I really believe that part of staying young is to live life to the fullest because we don’t know when we will breathe our last breath. Life is too short not to live it fully and at the tender age of 51 I want to get every bit out of life that I can in all aspects of life to include my faith as Francis of Assisi said “It is not fitting, when one is in God’s service, to have a gloomy face or a chilling look.”  After all who can stand to be around gloomy, judgmental and overly serious Christians or for that matter those kinds of people in any religion?  In my chosen vocation of being a Priest and Navy Chaplain I decided to be true to who I am long ago. I won’t be something that I am not. When I was on the USS Hue City one of my sailors, Tommy Byrne nicknamed me “the Anti-Chaps” simply because I did not fit the mold of what most people expected, I think it was when I bought him and some of our shipmates a couple of pitchers of beer at a bar when on liberty.

Life is to be lived and Abe Lincoln said it so well put it “the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.”

I am grateful for my life and am blessed that neither Judy nor my little dog Molly look or act their ages either. I have many friends and today have been so blessed to hear from so many of them through the medium of Facebook.

I want to thank you all of my friends for being a part of my life. May you and your live long and prosper.

Peace and Blessings

Padre Steve+

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January 31, 2010 · 23:59

The Great Hampton Roads Snowstorm of 2010 and Groundhog Day

Well it’s only the 31st of January but in about 29 hours it will be Groundhog Day back here on the East Coast.  We survived the great snow storm of 2010 here in Hampton Roads I measured 8-9 inches in my yard.  Now if we lived in a locale that actually was prepared for winter weather this wouldn’t be too bad…unfortunately since this is about a once a decade kind of event the region is woefully prepared for real winter weather.  First there isn’t enough snow removal equipment in the local cities, thus once the roads get funky there is no way to clear them.  Crews are working hard but Virginia Beach only has 36 trucks and there are hundreds of miles of primary roads in the cast expanse of the city, not counting important secondary roads.

Knowing this I was prudent and planned not to get out over the weekend and we stocked up on about all we would need and picked up a few items to make life easier like salt, kitty litter and a good flat blade shovel.  Likewise when we went to Gordon Biersch on Friday before the storm began I picked up a “growler” each of Czech Pilsner and Märzen in order to have proper sustenance which was a good move because for once the weather guessers got the forecast right much to the disbelief of some.  However as a weather junkie and had my college had a meteorology degree plan I might have taken it, I actually like about everything I do look at statistics, probabilities and as much hard data as I can when a major storm is said to be heading my direction.

So anyway we got hammered with a real winter storm in Hampton Roads and since we know that a large amount of the population of our fair regain can’t drive nails we elected to stay off of the roads Saturday.  Thus the Abbess and I after having worked about the house and relaxed at home watching DVD movies such as In Harm’s Way, M*A*S*H and the Big Lebaowski while nursing the “growlers” of the Czech Pilsner and Märzen. Finished the evening watching Death Becomes Her on HBO. Meanwhile I prepared nothing that could not be cooked in the microwave or poured from a box into a bowl.  Finally this afternoon we got out for a couple of hours and had enjoyable time with our friends at Gordon Biersch.

One of the more interesting parts of the weekend was watching the reaction of Molly to the snow.  She didn’t care for it too much when it was coming down but today with the sun out she spent time outside looking for trouble but fortunately for us not finding any.  She has made a path around the fence line and since she is rather smart has figured that she doesn’t need to make a new path every time she goes outside.  She now uses the path that she blazed for herself first thing this morning.

The Gordon Biersch Stein Club Faithful

So I get to head in to work as I have duty tomorrow.  The medical center like the rest of the Navy facilities here has only essential personnel reporting so things look to be pretty sparse with no clinics open.  So I will get to hang out with folks I know and pray that things are relatively uneventful.  I do expect that the drive in to work could be a bit sporting so I will definitely take it slow and easy.  Thankfully I a pretty good at winter driving thanks to winters in Germany, West Virginia and Pennsylvania.

Since Tuesday is Groundhog Day I watched that movie this evening.  This is one of my favorite movies, something about the twisted outlook of it that cracks me up.  Of course back in my days at the Army Chaplain Officer Advanced Course at Fort Monmouth New Jersey, the students referred to it as “Groundhog Day.” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eZbtAFq7dP8&feature=PlayList&p=1B0A88D7AB1399B9&index=28 One morning and I kid you not I was woken to the sound of “I Got You Babe” on the clock radio in my BOQ room.  That was eerie. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K_VKuivXAYshttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K_VKuivXAYs

Groundhog Day at Al Asad Air Terminal

Now I don’t know about you but I have had jobs or assignments where I really did think that I was living “Groundhog Day” however I did not ever steal the groundhog.  However, as I watch the movie I can imagine myself doing the same kinds of things that Bill Murray’s character did.  I may be a Priest but unfortunately I am simply and incorrigible miscreant which can be seen in some of my previous posts, especially How Padre Steve Got His Driver’s License, Passed Geometry, Escaped Advanced Algebra and Selects Mood Music for a Book Burning so I can’t be on the fast track for canonization but life is fun.

So anyway when I come home from work sometime on Groundhog Day I will be back.

Peace,

Padre Steve+

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January 15, 2010 · 21:31

X-Files and Wiener Dog attempts at World Domination

Note to readers: This is a revision of a very early post on this site which I think that you will enjoy.

Frieda as a puppy in 1984

Author’s note: The term “Little Shit” in reference to a Wiener Dog is one which may offend some people who have not been owned by one.  However, as a descriptive term there is little better to describe them and I do not use the term lightly but with great care.  Those of us who have spent our lives owned by them and who have struggled against them also mean it as a term of endearment.  Thus by using the term I mean no offense to the unenlightened, or those who have sweet sensitive and obedient dogs who cannot comprehend the duality of good and evil that lies in the heart of a Dachshund.  However, as we who know and love them understand deep in our hearts these little shits are to be treasured each in their own way. All artwork done by the Abbess of the Abby Normal see her site at

http://abbeynormalabbess.wordpress.com/
Wiener Dogs, sometimes known as Dachshunds are among the most peculiar animals.  Their long and low silhouette is distinctive and if you see one of them walking their owner you cannot miss the particular gait of their walk and manner in which their tail is carried behind them as they alertly look for whatever trouble that they can avail themselves of you know that trouble is on the way.

A cocky Frieda in the Grass with one of her stolen tennis balls

Almost anyone who has been owned by a Dachshund can tell you stories of how these little shits manage to do things that, well….to put it mildly will certainly convince you of the existence of purgatory.  You will become a believer as they will make your life Purgatory for the 12-16 years or more that they will own you.  Sorry Protestants who don’t believe, if you aren’t owned by one here there will be one in Purgatory named Frieda, who at one time for 16 years exacted her own sweet form of purgatory in our little household. I am convinced that God that the Devil have worked out a deal to let Frieda to run your life in Purgatory until you get straightened out enough to get to heaven.  After all, Purgatory is, like my home of record, West Virginia, Almost Heaven.

Greta or Poo as a puppy

The Abbess and I have had these little wonders for oh… the last 25 years or so.   We have grown attached to them, much as hostages attach to their terrorist captors in the Stockholm syndrome. We are convinced John, no I’m not having fun, Calvin had a Wiener Dog.  We would like to believe that JC’s was a Wire Hair, although I don’t think that the Wire Hair was around quite by JC’s time. However, that being said and despite the influence of the Augustinian understanding of predestination which certainly helped form Calvin’s theology I am absolutely certain that Calvin had to have one of these little shits to come up with the doctrine of  Total Depravity. There is no question in my Anglo-Catholic mind of this fact. Likewise, I’m sure that the Deity Herself will confirm this someday and that perhaps John Calvin himself will thank me for bringing this up as we warm up on heaven’s lush green outfield.

For those of you who don’t believe, all you need to do is look at the first chapter of the original edition of James Dobson’s book The Strong Willed Child. Even Dobson cannot escape a power fight with his Wiener Dog named Max.  Dobson reports a physical fight that he had with Max and but I am certain that this could not have been an isolated incident as no self respecting Dachshund would ever let being physically subdued one time keep them from their nefarious power seeking ways.

Greta at about the age of 10 in West Virginia, not a skinny dog

For us we had Frieda, a beautiful classic Wire Hair Dackel (what the Germans call them) from deep in Bayern (Bavaria). Frieda took ownership of us on Christmas Eve 1984 beginning a 16 year reign of terror.  Four years later we came across Greta, a fat little red Dachshund from San Antonio who we got in 1988. Greta who we affectionately called Greta-Poo which I shortened to just Poo did not rule as Frieda did but instead was a consummate thief no garbage can even ones protected by pantry doors was safe as long as she was around.  If we made the mistake of leaving food anywhere that she could get it would be gone if we turned our backs or did not constantly threaten her.  The funniest incident of the Poo’s thievery was when we lived in Texas and had a number of friends over, as was our custom to eat pizza and watch Star Trek the Next Generation.  We made a fatal mistake. A major thunderstorm and cloudburst created a bit of a stir and we all went out into the apartment’s breezeway to see the rain and hail come down. There was one very large piece of pizza, if I recall with everything on it including jalapeno peppers on the pizza pan on the coffee table. Poo could not resist and grabbed the piece of pizza dragging it under the table.  When we came back in we saw her with the pizza in her mouth and at the same time she saw us.  It was as if she started to shove the pizza in her mouth with both paws when she saw us.  The Abbess looked at her and simply said “Dog it’s yours” as we all laughed.  The little shit ate the whole thing jalapeños and all.  She would continue her thievery until the last few months of her life when confined to a Dachshund “wheelchair” due to back problems.

Molly on “her” couch

We Finally we have our current little shit and mischlinge (mixed) Long Hair Dachshund-Papillion and defender of the realm, Molly, in 2001 after we lost Frieda at the age of 16 ½.  Molly still acts like a puppy at 8.  Molly though a mixed breed flips from being the happy and obedient Papillion to the obnoxious and stubborn Wiener Dog in nothing flat

Looking for Squirrel

It is if there is some sort of hypostatic union going on with Molly fully Dachshund and fully Papillion. There is no in between setting for her, she goes from the good side of the Force to the Dark side at a moment’s notice.  Sometimes I think that she is channeling Frieda when this happens. Though they never met, they are somewhat kindred spirits.  Molly is not nearly as extreme as Frieda and we can thank heaven for that, but back to Frieda, or as she was oft known “the Queen.”

We spent 16 plus years in a constant power fight with Frieda. The term “little shit” applied to Frieda is a misnomer.  The Queen weighed in at 28 pounds and had teeth and jaws like a German shepherd.  Patently the little shits in Germany are bred to hunt badgers and foxes.  They are incredibly strong and have an attitude just this side of a Klingon in a bad mood.  Most dogs, once you have established dominance as the “Alpha Dog” in your little pack accept their place.  Not Wiener Dogs, especially Frieda. She spent 16 years trying to force us into doing what she wanted be it through passive or aggressive means.  If you have ever seen the Peter Sellers movie The Pink Panther Strikes Again where Inspector Cleauseau visits Oktoberfest and gets a room at a small hotel, you will see what I am referring to here. The good inspector sees a dog lying on the floor near the front desk. He asks the desk clerk if his dog bites.  The clerk replies no and Cleauseau reaches to pet the dog which then attacks him.  Cleauseau yells at the desk clerk “I thought you said your dog did not bite.” To which the clerk replied; “that’s not my dog.”  The dog in the movie is a Wire Hair, who looks just like Frieda in her early years. This was our life for 16 years.

http://www.kontraband.com/videos/19428/Does-Your-Dog-Bite/

Although both Greta, as we affectionately called her Poo had her moments, and Molly like I said sometimes channels Frieda.  Frieda was unique. From what I hear from others owned by Wire Hair Dachshunds that some of what she did are common to all of these miscreant creatures.  I can’t go into too many details and like John the Evangelist I would have to say that there are many more things that Frieda did which cannot be contained in this one essay but I shall endeavor to mention a few.

Frieda was a liar.  I know that sounds harsh because many people have a notion that dog’s don’t lie. This pattern of obfuscation began early in her life when as a puppy in Germany she would try to fake the Abbess out about by to urinate in the yard.  She knew that if she went outside and did her business that she would be rewarded.  Rapidly catching on the little shit began to do “touch and goes’ faking the pee and hoping to still get a reward.  One day the Abbess noticed this and thus began an intricate dance of death with the little shit attempting to fool us, and us trying to catch her.  This usually involved looking to make sure that there was wetness where wetness should be on a female dog after they urinate.   If there was no wetness Frieda would not get her reward.  Likewise, Frieda lied about other things.  When she did something that she shouldn’t and you discovered it she could act more innocent than a Nazi at the Nurnberg Trials.  “What? Me? Do something wrong, I was in the Hofbrauhaus while the others we making those decisions.”  If you decided to push the issue she became 28 pounds of razor blades.  Actually it was more like a Sherman tank blundering into an ambush by a Wehrmacht Jagdpanther with the long 88.  Not a fun, often violent and sometimes bloody.  I think that the Abbess and I still have scars from some of these encounters.

Frieda lied in other ways, occasionally we would catch her.  Once while living in Texas we left home to take a blind friend to the store.  This was just before Christmas and the Abbess had just made an ass-load of cookies.  We had not planned this trip and when our friend called we left the apartment rather quickly.  When we got to our friends’ house we were struck by a terrible thought, the cookies were in striking distance of Frieda and Poo.  Reacting quickly I asked our friend for his phone. This of course was back in the dark ages before cell phones were affordable to the average person.  Calling my house I waited for my version of Bill Clinton’s voice to play through the message on the machine and as soon as the “beep” signaled that I was live I began to talk.  “Dammit, get away from the cookies now! I’m coming home and if I catch you you’re both dead!” Slamming the phone down I ran to the car and raced the 5 miles back to our apartment.  As I rushed the door I noticed that indeed to cookies had been pilfered, however the dogs were nowhere to be found. Looking around I found Poo cowering in the bedroom and Frieda hiding behind the toilet.  I can only imagine the looks on their faces when my voice called them out in the middle of the crime.

Frieda galring at us after surgery to remove a tumor on her tail at the age of ten

Frieda liked to play dead.  I mean play dead enough to make that you think that she was dead.  She would be on her back, eyes fixed forward and unblinking, chest not moving. She would do this until we or her various puppy sitters were screaming “Oh may God she’s dead!” When she was happy the little shit would wag the very tip of her tail as if to say gotcha!

If you asked if she knew about the ripped up clothing, eaten socks, opened child proof medicine bottles her eyes would turn to steel.  Molly can do this too when caught.  Thankfully she is only half of Frieda’s weight and not as heavily armed. She also being a mischlinge has to fight her inner Papillion urge to please, something that Frieda did not have to contend with being fully in tune with the Dark Side of the Force.

Now our experiences with Frieda did not end when the little shit died.  I was deployed in the Far East when after going into renal failure and refusing treatment; yes she stopped cooperating and would not eat the special kidney diet.  The Abbess tells me that when the vet told her to fry some of the food with some with a bit of oregano to tempt her to eat it.  The Abbess knew that this was hopeless but did so anyway.  She describes the look that Frieda gave her that night as “Damn you and the horse that you rode in on.”

Well after Frieda passed into the great beyond the saga did not end.  As I mentioned I was in the Far East when she went to be with whomever she went to be, most likely whoever made her the best offer, she would have sold us down the river if she had been given the chance in life.  One night the Abbess was asleep and felt a familiar presence, Frieda had come into the room dragging a blue robe that the Abbess had never seen before, got into bed with her and as she petted Frieda she noticed that the bumps, warts and other skin flaws that had marred Frieda in life, which we think might have been in part due to exposure to Chernobyl radiation in Germany were no longer there. Her skin was smooth as she held Frieda the Queen disappeared.  Unknown to the Abbess on the far side of the world I had bought her a blue robe in Korea and would the same day as the Abbess receive a visit from the Queen.  When we told each other of our experiences we were both shocked.  It was beyond weird and certainly X-File material.

Molly in the snow

As I said before the stories about Frieda could fill volumes as could those about the Poo and Molly.  Those who knew Frieda can attest to these and many other nearly unbelievable stories.  Maybe she was an X-File. I don’t know, but if so she was our X-File and we loved the little shit, we still miss her.  One thing that we know for sure, always let lying dogs sleep.

Now we have Molly who on occasion assists in the writing of essays on this site.

Peace, Steve+

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September 19, 2009 · 20:42

PTSD²: Learning to Live Together When Both of You Have PTSD

Judy and Steve[1]_edited-1The Abbess and Me

The Abbess and I have been married 26 years.  We have dealt with PTSD for all of that time. Now we did not always know this was the case, not until she received the diagnosis back in 1989 and even then we did not really appreciate the effect that it was having on her and us.  She has written a wonderful piece over at her place, the Abbey Normal Abbess’s Blog entitled “The Abbess talks about a household with PTSD” which I have linked here:  http://abbeynormalabbess.wordpress.com/2009/09/18/the-abbess-talks-about-a-household-with-ptsd/

Any regular reader of this website knows that the host, Padre Steve deals with PTSD, a gift that he brought home with him from Iraq.  There are a decent number of articles here that reference my struggles in coming to grips with this, how it affects me and how I am working with Elmer the Shrink to figure this surreal, confusing, illogical and sometimes frightening mess out.

Now before I came home with PTSD and actually figured out what the hell was going on with me and why I was falling apart I had little understanding of what the Abbess was going through.  She suffers from childhood PTSD, abusive father, generally un-protective mother who probably had her own childhood abuse issues going on and a sister who physically abused her.  She also was traumatized when she was between two and three years old when a Doctor removed a cyst from her face without anesthesia, that is one of her earliest memories and for many years caused her to fear going to the doctor.  When we started dating the family was probably in one of their more peaceful states but there were plenty of times where I saw some scary shit going on.  At the same time the Judy that I knew was the confident young college student, gifted artist and President of the Delta College German Club with a vibrant faith.  There were hints back then that she was damaged by her family of origin but I just took it as something that she would simply grow out of.  I had read about PTSD in Vietnam veterans but kind of brushed that aside and had no idea that someone who had not been to war could suffer from PTSD.

After she was diagnosed with childhood PTSD neither of us really knew what to do with it and most of her therapists did not deal with it and instead focused on depression and one even tried to diagnose her and turn her into a sufferer of Dissociative Identity Disorder the diagnosis formerly known as Multiple Personality Disorder.  That was a fiasco brought on by “Christian” therapists who tried to find demons in everything.  Of course if there were demons involved or Satanic ritual abuse that made it easy, you didn’t need to deal with the PTSD or any of the psychological components to what was going on.  I think that these therapists, one of who is now famous for his diagnoses of former NFL star Hershel Walker did great harm to Judy and others in making a psychological diagnosis based on unsupportable “spiritual” causes.  These spiritual “causes” were not based on fact, but rather the therapist’s suppositions which were based on conspiracy theories   usually involving how police worked with satanic groups to conduct satanic rituals and then return the victims to their homes.  If we know what we had known now we would have made a malpractice suit against the therapists and pastoral counselor involved in Judy’s treatment at the time.

It was not until I was on active duty in the Navy that a therapist began to work with Judy’s PTSD.  Even still with her getting treatment I was still learning how to grapple with all the reactions that I had seen for years because to me they were still not logical.  I am a methodical and logical person and if you know anything about PTSD you quickly find that much of what happens to a person has nothing to do with logic, but what the brain and the nervous system are doing and not how a person is deciding to act at a given point.  So when Judy would startle or have some kind of meltdown I would try to counter with logic.  This to my surprise never worked and I was always left frustrated.  Over the years I became a bit more understanding but still would have trouble with the severe startle reflex as well as the occasional meltdowns which over the past couple of years have gotten to be less severe because of a conscious effort to help her work through her PTSD symptoms and become more aware of what was happening and triggers.

Doonesbury ptsd-pmsPMS -PTSD Judy’s Best friend said to me “You’re a girl now”

Then I went to Iraq and came back with PTSD with all the trimmings.  I think that she started figuring it before me so when I finally crashed on June 16th 2008, I do remember the date well, she was not surprised when I came back and told her that the doctors thought that I had PTSD and were referring me for treatment.  The good thing for me was that they did not refer to the Psychology or Psychiatry clinic but to the Deployment Health Office where I met and began to work with Elmer the Shrink.  My first visit to his office I got a copy of the Doonesbury book dealing with coming home from war and PTSD.  I laughed and cried all the way through the book.  Until I went to Iraq I had never been a big fan of Doonesbury but I really appreciate it now.  Military.com has a link to the Doonesbury at War series which I find quite nice to have.

http://www.military.com/warfighters

I appreciate the help and understanding of people that I work with.  That helps; I don’t have the sense of abandonment and isolation that I experienced the first 8 months that I was back from Iraq.  I think that my medications are getting managed a bit better as well.  One thing that is hard to understand when you first start getting treatment is that you are kind of an experiment in progress as the doctor’s figure out what works and what doesn’t work.  This I think can be very frustrating to people who want “fixed” right now.

doonesbury ptsd onsetSome of my dreams get pretty physical

Before I went to Iraq she was the more observant one of us.  Now I am the more observant. The one value of PTSD that I don’t really want to lose is my awareness of what it happening around me.  It has I’m sure been more help than hindrance getting me out of dangerous situations quickly because in many cases I sense things even before I see or hear them.  As I have pointed out in other posts this has come in handy especially in our nutty Hampton Roads traffic and the “kill or be killed” mindset that you have to have to survive on I-64 or I-264.  While I like the ability to do this the startle response that I have now is really annoying.  We have a phone in our house that the ringer sends me into orbit.  If I am sitting in the living room when it goes off it scares the absolute shit out of me as it does Judy.  It is interesting to see both of us almost jump through our asses when that damned thing goes off. Inevitably it is the damned Rite Aide Pharmacy automated line or a equally damned telemarketer that does this.  Other loud noises get me.  I was driving to work and there was a vintage Chevy Camaro just ahead of me and in the adjacent lane to my right. It was still in that morning twilight when the Camaro started backfiring out of its twin exhaust pipes.  The backfire sounded like a burst of semi automatic weapons fire close up and the flashes from the pipes looked like muzzle flashes.  Other unexpected loud noises get me as does the sound of helicopters, especially at night.  I don’t do crowds well unless they are at a baseball game.  I went to do the invocation yesterday at the Norfolk Naval Shipyard to kick off the annual Combined Federal Campaign.  I was expecting a small rather sedate event.  It was nothing of the sort.  There were at least a couple of hundred people in a relatively small auditorium, a band, reports and photographers, a color guard and drill team from a local ROTC unit even balloons and banners.  The noise and light, many moving pieces gave the event a pep rally feel which drove up my anxiety level pretty bad. I was able to keep from having a panic attack or a meltdown, but it took work not to fall apart especially with the week that I had had and the fact that in the previous 31 hours I had only 3.5 hours of sleep.  I don’t like my outbursts of anger which can border on rage depending on the sense of danger that I feel although some expressions that I have come up with in these events are pretty funny as I question the parentage and oedipal tendencies of some people.  Anxiety, tremors, muscle tension, insomnia and nightmares are no fun either.

I guess for me that the war is not over and I know that if I was to go back I would do just fine. I almost think that another deployment to either Iraq of Afghanistan would help me in some ways. I guess I might get another shot at it as things continue to develop over there.  Personally I think I need it to close the loop and one day when peace comes to Iraq to go back there to visit some of the Iraqis that I got to know while there.

Dundas at HitSomehow I was More Relaxed in Iraq than I am Here

So now I am much more understanding of what Judy has lived with since childhood.  She has been a help to me in understanding my struggle as well and what I have experienced has helped me have a lot more compassion and understanding for her.  The only one without PTSD is our little dog Molly so it does make for interesting living around our little household.

Peace,

Padre Steve+

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August 28, 2009 · 14:52

Mighty Miss Molly: 15 Pounds of Hell and Terror

Molly Miss LertAlways on Alert

Our current dog Molly is a Dachshund-Papillion mix that we got as a rescue in North Carolina.  She had been found in some brush covering in tar near NC 24 in Carteret County.  Judy met the lady who found her at the Vet when the lady was taking Molly in for her shots. Judy saw the face and body of the puppy in the lady’s arms and did not notice that the ears were slightly askew and that her legs, conveniently hidden were real legs and not Dachshund flippers.  Judy offered to help as we had lots of experience with quirky Wiener Dogs. A few days later the lady called us as Molly was wearing the lady’s older dog out.  We went to get her and Judy gasped in horror when she realized that Molly was not a purebred Dachshund but a mix of undetermined type.  Some thought that she might be Dachshund and Shelty, but after a lot of research and looking around we realized that she was half-Papillion.  This aside I fell in love with the little thing, she was about 5-6 months old and weighed all of 7 pounds and we took her home.

molly alertCome Down Here Squirrel!

Molly’s  face is that of a Dachshund with ears that don’t really know what to do with themselves as they are sort of a blend of Dachshund and Papillion ears with the fringes of a Papillion.  When she is on alert they look like fire-direction radar on WWII Navy ships.  She is a beautiful shade of dark red, her body a bit longer than a full blooded Papillion and her legs a bit longer than a full blooded Dachshund.  Her tail is the curved tail of a Papillion with a large cascading plume. She looks a bit like a small Red Fox; something that one of neighbors in North Carolina thought that she was a Fox pup.

Molly on couchLazy Day

Molly is incredibly smart and though we knew that she was smart we have been discovering this year that she is scary smart in problem solving ability, understanding and perseverance.  We thought Frieda, aka “the Queen” or the “Dog from Hell” was the smartest dog we had ever seen and Molly makes Frieda look average.  Those of our friends and family who have met Frieda can attest that Frieda was scary smart.  Molly is smarter but without the evil edge that Frieda had.  Molly loves to play, if you tell her to get such and such toy out of her huge basket of toys she will dig until she finds it.  Every year at Christmas we wrap presents for her and watch as she opens them and begins to play.

molly and christmas presentsUnwrapping Her Christmas Presents

Molly is also incredibly sweet to us and people that she knows.  She is a suck up and very melodramatic or as we say “Mollodramatic.” We have a friend named Tim who with his wife Diane will watch Molly when we are out of the area and Tim is Molly’s “boyfriend.” It is embarrassing how they make over each other; you’d think that they need to get a room.

Molly2With One of Her Many Toys

You would think that a Dachshund-Papillion mix would have kind of a blended personality and temperament.  Moll is not like that.  She runs either 100% Dachshund or 100% Papillion, there is no middle setting.  Her Dachshund temperament shows when she is not happy about something, she will be positively aloof and even morose.  She will like our Dachshunds take revenge if she is pissed at us for whatever reason.  This usually takes the form of destroying underwear by cutting the narrower side- seam like she was using scissors.  To keep her from doing this we keep a child gate at the foot of our staircase as she is sneaky about things like this.  When she is in Papillion mode she is sweetness and light, almost like “Nermal” in the Comic strip Garfield.  She is also somewhat unflappable very little spooks her and she maintains her own little life.  She is not co-dependent like our Red Dachshund Greta, or as we called her “Poo,” see One Tough Poo, Memories of a Fat and Fearsome Wiener Dog https://padresteve.wordpress.com/2009/06/13/one-tough-poo-memories-of-a-fearsome-and-fat-wiener-dog/ nor do we have to contend with Frieda’s “you are the inept help” attitude towards us. See Let Lying Dogs Sleep https://padresteve.wordpress.com/2009/04/27/let-lying-dogs-sleep/

Molly in snow 3 the foxLike a Fox

Molly is also quite the watchdog and fighter.  She does not like big dogs at all and we have to restrain the little shit on occasion.  Likewise when someone comes to the door she about comes unglued in defending the place so much so that we have to use squirt-guns or bottles to put her in her place.  Words will not do at this point, but she does not like getting sprayed.  For a rather fun account of one of these incidents see my post from a few months back entitled Saturday Morning Distractions-Jehovah’s Witnesses at the Door https://padresteve.wordpress.com/2009/04/04/saturday-morning-distractions-jehovahs-witnesses-at-the-door/I have no doubts that if someone were to ever tyr to break in on us or cause us harm that Molly would actually give her life to defend us and our property.

Molly miss intensityMiss Intensity

However the most interesting thing that we have seen and often the most fun is her relentless protection of her realm in our backyard.  Woes betide the squirrel, rabbit, possum, or bird that comes into our yard.  She has actually caught and killed two birds, she never fails to chase the squirrels, she once cornered a possum at night in the corner of our yard, thankfully I was able to grab her before she could launch her attack and well thankfully the bunnies have not been in the back when she was on the lookout as I do not think that they would fare as well as the squirrels have to this point.  She also takes her time to hunt down flies and other bugs that might get in the house or that she traps on the porch. Her one mistake was eating a spider once which caused an emergency Vet visit as her nose and muzzle had swollen up like Karl Malden.

molly looking up the treeLooking up the Tree at the Squirrels

Having only had things with Dachshund blood, and Judy having Pugs growing up neither of us knew anything about Papillion temperament.  All that we knew were that they were very smart, sweet and playful.  We had not read the part about them being the protective and combative type that she is, until we saw the comic at the top of this post yesterday.  I saw it and about died laughing out loud as it fits Molly to a tee.

Molly Where is the squirrelHunting for Squirrels

Molly certainly makes our life interesting and she is a trip.

Molly againSomebody Knows Molly

Peace, Steve+

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