"And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something that you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
From High Up Above to Down Below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth
Lights Will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will Try To Fix You" Coldplay




I fell in love with our dog, Lola,
the moment I saw her photo on the Western PA Humane Society's website, a mere two weeks ago.
A big pudgy American Bulldog with tons of little black spots all over her belly, it was hard to get her out of my mind...
so I arranged a trip to the shelter, in honor of the boys' school teachers, with donations of dog and cat toys/treats/food, last Tuesday. We brought Lola home on Wednesday, and she quickly became an integral part of our family.




Lola died tonight, by euthanasia. She was a wonderful, five year old, who had experienced a hard life before coming home to live with us. Despite our best efforts, not a day went by that we didn't have a frightening moment or two, where her hidden aggression reared its ugly head, sending me running for cover of my kids. She bit me today, in a most sudden and horrifying display of vicious force. I knew, then, that it was over and that the safety of our home had been compromised beyond repair.

As the despair of losing this magnificent spirit, washes over me in waves, I feel no regret for loving this beast who taught me more in five days than I ever learned in a classroom or from books. During her hours of life here, she showed amazing skill and intelligence, learning to "stay", lay down, roll over, and walk submissively on a leash (no small feat for a dog with almost eighty pounds of pure strength!). Some of my dearest friends stopped by yesterday and marveled, seeing her sit, frozen, with a much loved treat within inches of her body, waiting for my command before lunging and dining with fervor. Never in all my years have I witnessed a creature of such will.

The work of Humane Societies, in our country, is heart wrenching and endless, and the turmoil that lives within their walls, due to the unconscionable evil of heartless human beings- who abuse these defenseless animals, then leave them for dead, is sickening. While it is romantic to believe that the answer to our massive population of unwanted dogs and cats are "no kill" shelters, the reality is that animals, such as our Lola, would be turned away as "unadoptable" and have no haven from the streets, were it not for the "open door policy" of the facilities which often must then provide "humane" euthanasia for them. Several days ago, when it first became apparent that Lola may not be able to remain in our custody, I spent hours researching but found no rescue group who would be willing to take this animal who had instances of severe aggression. As awful as this may sound, we are thankful, tonight, not only for the priceless gift given to us, in the form of this mostly lovable dog, but for the heartfelt "welcome back" she received, when returned this evening. A testimony to her contagious energy, she had many workers, both professional and volunteer, who had fallen in love with her, since her placement there nearly forty days ago, and she displayed no anxiety at walking back through the doors to their waiting open arms.

Tom and I have always had a relationship built on love for animals,
especially of the canine species. We are devastated by this loss, as we were enriched and strengthened by the presence of Lola in ways indescribable with words.

My good buddy, Stacey, while visiting from Texas, yesterday, commented that we seem to always have such terrible luck- and she's right- its been a staggering year of loss for us, in pet terms. But as I sit here, now, wondering if we're crazy to open ourselves to such drama all the time, I am reminded of that oh-so-tried but true Bette Midler classic-"The Rose" and its ever-so-timely sentiment "its the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance, its the dream afraid of waking, that never takes the chance, its the one who won't be taken, who cannot seem to give, its the soul afraid of dying, who never learns to live....". And through it all, we live with great passion, sometimes leaping both feet first, thinking last, with little caution to reason or logic, but that is who we are and what keeps our love going...and, at the end of the day, I like us this way. I'll take the hours with a dog who breaks our heart but teaches us compassion and perseverance, rather than waiting for a safer, less painful route. For Lola and Belle, our furry companions who crossed over this year, we are better for your lives with us. We miss you.

Our Family Christmas Card, still waiting to be sent, from the night we adopted Lola, last week. We were so thrilled to be adding such a goofball girl to our brood!

I got Lily up at the crack of dawn this morning to go "early bird" shopping- just us girls. The cashier at Kohl's recommended we check out this YouTube video of hospital workers in Oregon- Enjoy!

We left the Island a week ago and headed back to Pittsburgh. Since our return I have been asked numerous times "how was your trip?" My reply is always the same- "FANTASTIC!!" along with the line that "it is hard to be back." I think most people assume that it is because of the frigid temps we are experiencing here in Western, PA. Of course I cannot deny my discomfort with being cooped up in a house, with grey skies and feeling cold no matter what, but the real sadness is in our lack of togetherness. In Florida, we spend ten days enjoying one another's company, watching as our children ran about and lived life without restraint- jumping into Renee's pool with their clothes on- over and over again, catching frogs and building them habitats, holding three inch long grass hoppers, fishing in the canal, flying kites, digging for shells, building sandcastles....now there are worksheets and inane rules and sitting for hours at a desk. Tom and I both feel the intensity, now more than ever, to get back to our togetheritis. And I believe we will, sooner rather than later.

After two years of worrying and sobbing and yelling and screaming over the education or miseducation of my oldest son, we have received the exciting news that tests show that Liam has reached grade level with his reading. Two years ago, Liam had a teacher who treated him like a behavior problem because he wasn't getting his work done, and was unwilling to entertain any alternative explanations to his functioning other than a sheer rebellion against her authority. Only after a slew of meetings and intense conferences with the principal were we able to get him tested by a psychologist who revealed that he indeed had learning disabilities which were affecting his success in school. We never received any apology for the mistreatment our son received that year, but he did go on to have several wonderful educators, inside and outside of class, who have been very supportive of his achievements and have seen him for his true potential. I have been able to challenge the system so far this fall by having him re-introduced into the classroom for spelling, and beginning this Monday, for reading. This is such a time to rejoice for this boy who seemed stunted by the inner-workings of his very complex but powerful brain- his potential to see his own dreams come to fruition is better than ever and we are so thankful for those in his school day who have and are his greatest cheerleaders. To Mr. O'Toole, Ms. Hinderschodt, Mrs. Oldaker, and Mrs. Harding- we are so grateful.