Twister Tuesday!

I could hardly believe my eyes as I looked to the sky. The scene through my windshield...was it what I thought it was? My fears were justified as I saw the car ahead of me and the school bus behind me pull over to the side of the highway. It was as if we were all saying, "No way am I going towards THAT!"

"THAT" was the first funnel cloud I have ever seen "up close and personal" - not on a television screen. And believe me - the effect that a twister-sighting has when it's seen in person is quite different than when it is seen on the Weather Channel. Let's just say that the effect it had on ME was not pretty.

I had been en route to my usual racquetball game. It was raining hard the remnants of tropical storm Fay. In fact, I had thought about cancelling my match just due to fears of driving in extreme wetness. Little did I know that something much more ominous lied ahead... I was driving up the entrance ramp to I-985 when I saw the black cloud swirling and reaching down where it had no business reaching. At that point, the twister was somewhere near the Wrigley's plant. I supposed a direct hit there would send packs of Juicy Fruit flying and Orbit orbitting...then, PANIC struck as I not only realized I didn't know which way this thing was headed but also that I was POWERLESS if its path included me. I wanted so badly to be back home, but I had no way of turning around unless I drove ahead to the next exit. So, instead of remaining a sitting duck (and in order to avoid becoming a dead duck), I made the decision to drive ahead. Both the rain and my heart pounded as I almost blindly moved forward...all the while screaming (incoherently, according to my husband) into my cell phone. As I said, it wasn't pretty. I would have liked to think that, as a Christian, I would have been praying incessantly during such a time...but, instead, I was an absolute basket case. Now, lest you think I'm a total heathen, I will say I did manage to squeak out one short prayer for protection. What can I say, I'm wired wrong - just like my mother. I am a bonafide screamer - just ask my kids.

By the way, my panic didn't revolve exclusively around my OWN survival . (Heaven forbid we add "self-centered" to my list of negative attributes.) After realizing that the tornadic monster appeared to be heading in the direction of my boys' schools, my hysteria centered on my sons. Those fears were exacerbated when I called my girlfriend only to find HER already in terror-induced tears. The schools were in lockdown and her husband had seen the culprit cloud making it's way toward them.

All's well that ends well though...I made it home without being sucked into a vortex...and so did the boys. The West Hall schools suffered no more than the springing of some new leaks. (More than I can say for a couple of other schools in the county which took a more direct hit.) For our family though, August 26th was a day to remember - a "pass over" of sorts - and a reminder of who is in control. For this reason and so many others, we thank Him for His mercy, His protection and His amazing grace!

BIG BROWN DOWNER

So much for a Big Brown Triple Crown. Note to self: Never plan a get-together based solely on celebrating a particular horse winning a race. What started as an upbeat party filled with anticipation that we were about to witness a bit of history felt more like a deflated balloon at its end. We were left wondering "how can this be"? How could this seemingly unbeatable machine not only NOT WIN, but finish LAST in the Belmont Stakes? What happened?

Most likely, this beautiful colt was just plain tired. After having exquisitely run and won both the Kentucky Derby and The Preakness in recent weeks it was a stretch to ask him to pull off this one. (That's why the Triple Crown is so elusive.) The Belmont is a grueling 1 1/2 mile race and it was a humid 88 degrees to boot. I wouldn't feel like pulling out all the stops either. Can't blame the horse...I, for one, am just super glad that he wasn't hurt...and that no others were either. Certainly didn't want to revisit what happened to Eight Belles last month.

One thing is sure, Big Brown is a horse I'll remember. Just like Funny Cide and Smarty Jones, he may not have pulled off the Triple Crown - but he gave us one hell of a ride!

Humane Holocaust?

If you look up the word "holocaust" in the dictionary, one of the meanings includes "any mass slaughter or reckless destruction of life". (In this age of hypersensitivity I thought I'd better get that out there, for I am certainly not equating the following to the horrors wrought by Hitler.) With that being said, I must also say that I am horrified and downright angry at the Humane Society of Hall County's decision to euthanize pretty much every single animal in their "care" last week.

I, for one, would like a full explanation of how this tragedy came about. So far, what has been reported through The Gainesville Times and AccessNorthGa.com has felt like smoke and mirrors...perhaps because of poor journalism or worse, I fear, because the Humane Society really doesn't want us to know the full story.

The Bordetella virus (if this was, in fact, the illness that supposedly compromised the whole flock) is similar to the common cold, characterized by a dry, hacking cough which usually goes away on it's own and simply must run its course. Most veterinarians simply treat this illness symptomatically...with cough suppressants. Some vets do prescribe a short course of antibiotics - usually just because it makes the animal's owner feel more comfortable, but also to ward off any further complications. Bordetella is a fairly common illness among animals and, since it is highly contagious, is often spread in kennels.

According to the article in The Times, The Humane Society of Hall County typically holds about 250 animals. Rick Aiken, President of the organization, was quoted as saying he didn't know "exactly how many animals had been euthanized" but he did say it was "the majority" of those that were in the shelter.

Here is why I am not only perplexed, but outraged as well. Mr. Aiken was quoted in AccessNorthGa.com as saying "To be perfectly honest, probably 98% of these animals didn't have any problems." This begs the question, "WHY THEN?" He also mentioned that the shelter hadn't had a "thorough cleaning" in SEVEN years. That begs the question, "WHY NOT?"

WHY had the Humane Society not cleaned it's shelter in SEVEN years? Common sense tells you that thorough cleaning, regular disinfection and good ventilation are a must in any kennel. Is THIS how you clean house? Sacrificing the lives of innocent and healthy animals so that you can get a fresh start and do the job we hoped you were doing all along? Otherwise, WHY on earth would you euthanize scores of non-symptomatic dogs and cats...unless it was some twisted form of prophylactic medicine.

As the owner of three rescue dogs, one of whom came from HSHC, I am devastated at the thought that 98% of the animals who were put to sleep were actually healthy. Even if they HAD been sick, this illness was NOT fatal and easily treatable. I am pretty sure that if Mr. Aiken and his staff had made phonecalls to their faithful supporters and apprised them of this situation they would not have found much support for his plan of action and most likely would have been offered additional financial help or better ideas as to how to proceed.

Lastly, let me say that I have personally met Rick Aiken and perceived him as a man with a heart of gold and a lover of animals. He and the HSHC have been truly dedicated to helping the thousands and thousands of animals that end up there as a result of neglect, abuse and the absolute ignorance of people who refuse to spay and neuter their pets. I am quite sure that Mr. Aiken was deeply saddened to take the lives of so many precious dogs and cats. I feel horrible, too, for the HSHC staff who had to take part in this disaster. The REAL TRAGEDY in this whole thing is that is was AVOIDABLE and I think that the HSHC owes its supporters not only a detailed explanation of how and why this situation occured, but also a promise and a plan to ensure that something like this NEVER happens again.

Heaven Has Another Bird...

her name is Pepper and I sent her there tearfully. It was my last act of love for her...to end the suffering that was unavoidable. They think she had a tumor. They said she wouldn't last two days. They said I made the right decision. It still hurts though.

Pepper was an incredibly tame and loving parakeet...with a penchant for nose picking (mine, that is). She clearly preferred me over all of the other human beings in my house. Her adoration of me was shown in many ways...flying across rooms to light on my shoulder...allowing lengthy head rubs...nightly climbs up the cage walls to give goodnight kisses. Sometimes she would seemingly go into a trance-like state as I would coo to her and rub her back. Little did we realize that she perceived this as mating behavior...until we found a Christmas present in the form of a beautiful egg laid in her food dish!

Our little bird - green and yellow and peppered with black - surely knew her love was returned. Our last night together included several hours of comforting by all of us who were lucky to have known her...the wee hours of the morning she slept on the warmth of my bare chest, hopefully comforted by my own heart that beat with prayers for her.

My last words to Pepper? "It's ok to go to Jesus now...hopefully Gandhi, Be-Bird and Fa (my other dearly departed birds) are there waiting for you. The bible says that God loves all creatures great and small...God created you and to Him you'll return." And after giving her one more hug, kiss and an "I love you", she snuck in one more nose pick as tears rolled down my face.

Rest in peace sweet Pepper...you are loved.

For Whom the Belles Toll...

The bells toll for thee, sweet filly, the bells toll for thee.

Guts, glory and then...gone. All in a span of just minutes. You showed guts just getting into the Kentucky Derby...the only filly in a field of twenty. Then the glory. Somehow, you know, you brought womankind together for those two minutes on the track...and, wow, did you make us proud! You ran with speed and grace - just behind the powerhouse known as Big Brown and a good bit ahead of the rest of the pack. You flew over the finish line to take an impressive 2nd place! Little did you, or we, know that in minutes you would be gone...that this run for the roses would cause you to cross the ultimate finish line.

My heart broke into a million pieces seeing you down...knowing all too well what that meant...memories of Barbaro still fresh in my mind. My heart aches for your trainer, your jockey, your owner and all of the others you undoubtedly touched during your three years on this earth. You were born to run and died doing it...simple yet so tragic.

When I awoke this morning it was with a certain sadness that the lyrics of Dan Fogelberg's song "Run For the Roses" came to mind. In hindsight the words seem eerily prophetic for you, Eight Belles...

"All the long, lazy mornings in pastures of green - the sun on your withers, the wind in your mane - could never prepare you for what lies ahead...the run for the roses so red. And it's run for the roses as fast as you can. Your fate is delivered, your moment's at hand. It's the chance of a lifetime in a lifetime of chance and it's high time you joined in the dance."

Now, I'd like to imagine you majestically running in heavenly fields of green...perhaps you are even being serenaded by Dan Fogelberg himself because, you know, he crossed over to eternity not too long before you. These things are a mystery as long as we remain on this side...with our blinders on. I do know that I will never forget you....that this Derby will be remembered more for the horse that won our hearts than for the horse that won the roses. You ran an amazing race...and, now, I pray you are in the midst of His amazing grace. Rest in peace Eight Belles.

America's New Drug of Choice?

About seven hours ago, at approximately 6:15 pm, I partook of my first Red Bull.

Note to self: NEVER drink this stuff after, let's say, NOON!

Red Bull gives you "wings"...oh, that must be code for freaking INSOMNIA...not to mention Restless Leg Syndrome (the three dogs that share my bed are pretty pissed off right now) and Restless Mind Syndrome (which is why I'm typing this freaking blog post at one-freaking-thirty in the morning)!

So THIS is the new drug of choice for millions of Americans. Pure speed delivered in a petite pop-top can it is. I already see myself rooting around in the car at sunrise...looking for the remaining half a can to pour over ice...my fix for the day. Otherwise, I fear I will have to seek out my dealer, a mysterious man of middle eastern descent, who owns the gas station down the street...just to get through the day? Where will this vicious cycle end?

My mind is racing and formulating my next million-dollar idea (that, like all the others, will never come to fruition): the company that created this cocaine in a can needs to develop an antidote. I'll even help them out a little bit here...perhaps the product name should be "Black Bear"... the logo could be something like a bear in hibernation...which alludes to SLEEP...which sounds pretty dang phenomenal to me at this moment.

Tomorrow should be an interesting day...perhaps I will crash and burn...perhaps I will down the rest of the can and proceed to clean every square inch of my 3,500 square foot home (now THAT would be productive) and later whoop some serious butt on the racquetball court (now THAT would be awesome)...at THIS MOMENT HOWEVER, I am seriously regretting my foray into this new world of energy drinks...

Well, it's back to the bed for me...for sure the dogs would prefer I take the couch.

Running With the Devil?

The Van Halen lyrics were running through my head as soon as Keegan received his race number...the dreaded 666! I'm quite sure there are lots of people here in the bible belt that would have refused to compete with such a number. This mother and son just said "whoa" and shared a good natured chuckle. No time to get distracted. Keegan was on a mission to qualify for this year's Peachtree Road Race and, in order to do that, he had to run his very first 10k in under 42 minutes!

Exactly 1,621 people lined up to run the course in Sandy Springs, Georgia. I can't help but beam when I see my 6'1" fifteen year old take his place at the front of the pack...my heart still does prideful flip flops when I watch him doing his warm-up sprints...and it always beats a little faster in the seconds just before he takes off on his racing journeys. On this day, I begin my usual prayer for him as he is standing waiting for the starter's gun to sound. On this day, I blink back tears as I open my eyes to find his eyes closed...quite obviously in prayer himself...in the midst of a loud throng of anxious runners.

Then, they're off...and so am I. I hurry back to my car and drive a couple of exits away to the finish line. This mother will never tire of watching her son run. Keegan gives me so very many reasons to be thankful and proud and this is just one of them, but watching him run is extraordinary. Keegan Kyle - running tall.

Well, as I said, we were at this particular event with a goal in mind...and that goal was only going to be met if he crossed that finish line in 41 minutes and 59 seconds or less. I did my usual pacing as I kept my eye on the big time display. The number one runner came in at an impressive 30:48! I knew I could relax for a few more minutes... When the time clock hit the 35 minute mark however, I knew it was time to talk with God. This time I enlisted the help of angels...asking God to send them to surround Keegan. I visualized these angels doing everything from carrying Keegan, blowing on him in such a way that he would be propelled forward, even fastening wings on his feet. The clock, of course, kept ticking away...39 minutes and counting...and, I must confess (oh, me of little faith), I was formulating the "Hey, you did your best and I'm proud of you for that" consolation speech in my mind...just in case. One hundred people had crossed the finish...my heart was about to sink...until my tall, dark and handsome boy appeared in full sprint. He crossed the line at 39:52.38...victory achieved.

I cherish sharing these experiences with my son. This particular race, however, offered us an opportunity to share our faith with each other too. When I related to Keegan how I prayed - describing how I pictured the angels around him - his eyes lit up. He asked me, expectantly, to tell him exactly when I had begun to pray. Apparently at that 35 minute mark he was about to give up - he was spent. Then, he said he had a burst of energy that allowed him to sprint the rest of the way in! We reveled in that for a few moments and, as we walked back to the car, Keegan said, "Mom, you know who I was running for today, don't you?" I knew the answer in my spirit...but it felt so good to hear my teenager tell me, "I was running for God".

Keegan says he flat-out destroyed old "666" on Saturday...I'd have to say I agree...not only because he finished 104th out of 1,621...but because he gave God ALL the glory!