My Man and My Dog

Here is a little background for you. 

This is My Man:

This is My Man’s Man Cave:

It is a large Man Cave, about 12' by 16’.  He drew up the plans and built it all, by himself. 

This is my dog Yuki: 

We rescued her from a shelter a couple of months ago.  She has likely been abused and has never completely settled into our home.  She has, however, bonded with ME and is my new baby.  She will spend her days in the far corner of my closet if I am not around.  I usually won’t let her stay there though.  I make her at least come out and lay on my bed.   

On Saturday afternoon, Yuki got under the Man Cave somehow, which is really not that uncommon, but this time, she got WAY under.  I had been gone for quite a while in the afternoon and evening, and so it was after dark when I realized that she was still outside.  So I called for her to come out, but she didn’t come out.  A little later, I tried again.  No luck.  So I got a flashlight and looked under the Man Cave.  The Man Cave sits on a “grid” for lack of a better term, like a tic-tac-toe thing, and she had gotten into the “center square.”   And she couldn’t get out.  So I called Barre’ out to assess this situation with me.  His response:  She got in there; she can get out.  Hmmm.  Well, I didn’t think so.  So I sat out there and called for her over and over.  I lay down on the ground with a flashlight and looked at her.  I tried to get her out by offering her lunch meat.  I called and called.  And then she started to whine for me.  And then I started to cry.  And I mean CRY.  I just KNEW that she would come out to me if she could.  So I went back in to get Barre’ to come out again.  He still thought that she could get out but conceded that if she was still there in the morning, he would go borrow a floor jack from his friend and lift up the house and get her.  WHAT?  It was supposed to get down to 36 degrees.  She’s an INDOOR dog.  So I begged, “PLEASE go now!”  So at 9:30 at night, he went to get the jack.  I’ll be honest and say that I don’t think he was too happy with me when he left.  But My Man did it anyway.  So when he got back, he jacked up his Man Cave enough for her to get out.  My poor Yuki!  She was so cold and scared.  So I let her go into the closet with her comforter, and I just lay there on the floor with her. 

Oh, My Man!!  I love him so much!

So, Sunday morning, he let Yuki out, and she, well, dropped a dooki and promptly WENT RIGHT BACK UNDER THE MAN CAVE.  You have GOT to be kidding me. 

So, I began AGAIN to try to get her out, with just a little bit less compassion this time.  And I, too, am starting to think that she can just get herself out.  But alas, she couldn’t get out.  So after church, I tried some more, AGAIN laying on the grass, and now she is in the left middle square.  I was able to get her leash on her and then tossed it to the top middle square.  So then I go to THAT side of the Man Cave and lay down, and I stuck my hand way in there and grabbed her leash.  She started to come to me, but when she got to the edge, she was stuck.  (I could picture her saying I TOLD YOU SO!)  But I just kind of pulled on her, and she lay on her side, and she was pushing with her feet and she FINALLY got out!  Thank You LORD!!!!

And this is lattice: 

And it is now all the way around the bottom of the Man Cave.

Happy Birthday Grunt!!

Today is my Grandma Fretia’s birthday.   She would have been 91 years old.  I still can’t believe how much I miss her, every single day.  If you were blessed to know her, you would know that she was a truly amazing woman.  So in honor of this incredible, talented, awesome woman, I’d like to share some memories.

I can’t remember a time when my Grandma didn’t take me camping. 

Sometimes it would just be Clayton Lake; other times it would be Cimarron Canyon.  Usually my brother Brent was with us and most often Kenny.  I know my parents went some times too, but not always.  As I think back now, I wonder if she didn’t take us to the lake to give them a break!  I remember her washing dishes with that smelly old green Palmolive dish soap and boiling water!!!  She and I usually had to share a bed, and I have always been a restless sleeper.  So I would be tossing and turning, trying to get to sleep, and she’d finally say in frustration, “Dammit Kelly Jo!  I’m going to get up and smoke a cigarette until you can get to sleep!”  I remember taking cold baths in the stream and sitting by the fire at night.  And then when I was older, I remember she would stop by a liquor store in Clayton and get a bottle of Boons Farm Strawberry Hill and let Brent and me have a glass!  And she would always say, “But we don’t need to tell your Dad!” 

I also remember that my Grandma was just always with us.  She went on all our vacations with us, to California or Yellowstone.  And when we all took our very first cruise, in 1985, she was with us.  I think we must have all gotten our love of traveling from her.  In the 70’s, she led tour groups in the Middle East.  She was such an open, friendly person.  She never met a stranger.  And she stayed friends with many of the people she met. 

She used to take my friends and me skiing in the winter, to Red River.  One year, the weather was kind of getting bad, and so we were trying to get out of town before my Dad shut down our trip.  We made it to the west side of Boise City, and while I was trying to pass a farm truck, my 1976 Ford Thunderbird spun out of control, slamming into a ditch, packing us into the snow drift.  We hadn’t been traveling very fast, so no one was hurt, but man we were shaken.  After our heart beats returned to normal, a friend pulled us out, and as we were about to get back on the road, Grandma quietly said, “Now we don’t need to tell your Dad about that!” 

Grandma Fretia was also the very first independent business woman that I ever knew.  You see, she divorced when it was NOT a common thing, and she used the amazing talent the Lord gave her as an artist to support herself.  She taught oil painting in a room in her home, at one time having as many as 60 students a week taking lessons.  She taught us all to see the beauty in everything, to see the subtle changes in the colors of a sunset, to look at nature with a sense of awe.  My Uncle Terry turned this love into photography and takes amazing pictures.  We all have pictures that she has painted hanging in our homes, as do many of her students.  She was able to support herself, always remaining independent.  I remember she used to talk about how she would want to be alone at the end of the week.  As a young girl, I thought this was the silliest thing I ever heard.  NOW I completely understand!!  She loved her students so much, but she also loved the sanctuary of her home.

And OH, her home!  There was probably not a square foot of wall space in her entire home that wasn’t covered!  She had paintings and pictures and things she had accumulated from her travels.  And later in life, she had hundreds and hundreds of movies!  She loved to watch mysteries and Westerns and Sam Elliott!  And if she found a movie (like “Last of the Dogmen”) she would watch it over and over.  We didn’t often watch TV with her though because the volume was so loud you could hear it from the driveway!

She was such an awesome Great-Grandma to my daughter Bethany.  She thought that Bethany was the funniest thing ever.  She would often pick her up (at age 2 and 3) and take her to The Cove for coffee!  I am so sorry that McKenna didn’t get to know her, and my husband Barre’. 

I also remember going to church with my Grandma.  At times when my parents didn’t go to church, my Grandma would take me.  We would sit at “our” spot in the back, ready to make our getaway at noon!   I am so very glad to know that she had accepted Christ because I very much want to see her again. 

As I sit here remembering Grunt (that’s short for Granny Grunt, by the way!), I realize I could write all day long about the wonderful memories I have of her and how she shaped who I am today.  Tears fill my eyes as I write because I miss her so much.  But she loved us all well, and we loved her well, too.  I know that I will continue to miss her and I will continue to love her, until we meet again . . . .