The End

This is a story that was not supposed to be this way. My wife found a little one, brought her home, and we called her Sara. Without the “H” because “H”‘s are ewww. If you get the joke, you score extra points. She was not supposed to be attached to me, but it happened anyway. Most things do not turn out like they are supposed to, or in the way we planned, at least not fully every single time.

My wife has a degenerative nerve disorder. It keeps her up, it keeps her from doing things, and it keeps her from well, life sometimes. We manage. We get through it. We have done so with the help of our tiny little Yorkshire terrier. Funny, she would make my wife lay down when her blood pressure was too high, or she overworked herself. I can never get my wife to do this, even in some of the most extreme conditions. This, again, was not supposed to be my dog. This is my wife’s companion, her dog, her little ball of fur.

Supposed to not be the star of the show
Not sure what she did, but she did it

This dog latched on to me, and well, she in turn became another daddy’s girl. What can I say, I am a sucker for the girls in my life, and nothing was different with this little one. She became spoiled, just like all the other loves in my house. She has her own bed, takes my socks, stockpiles my clothes under the bed, and makes me take her out. She preferred sleeping between the wife and I first, then going to her bed… let’s be very clear about that. She was jealous of anyone who would touch me, including my wife. All the things that dads have to do, she was game for. She would spin for food (only left, because she can not turn right, she is not an abiturner.. ), crawl up next to me to sleep, and listened to my complaints about life early in the morning. She would let me make my coffee before she was ready to go out. She would try to catch lizards, and other things. She turned into one of my best friends. She never judged me, and always knew when something was wrong. We dressed her up and she never liked it. I have more pictures than I care to admit of her, and she hated taken all the ones she was awake for. She let me carry her like a baby, because, well, I am a sucker for babies. She is everything that is good with the world, and helped us through so many different things, that this little thing could not even begin to put into words the impact that such a tiny baby had on everyone.

Long walk outside did this
She hated this one
She was mad at this one as well

Her special life was not supposed to be done this early or in this fashion. This past week and a half, she got sick. Cancer has invaded her lungs, and I had to watch my little tiny go through so much. She struggled to breathe, and stopped dancing for food. She was not getting up with me to get coffee, and well, she was not the same baby. We snuggled together, cried together, and it was time. She was huffing so bad at the end, and there was nothing that anyone could do. Nothing that anyone could do. Helpless was the feeling, and it was terrible. I don’t wish the emotions on anyone, and I can barely type without crying. It was not the happy ending that she should have had, nor deserved, and life is cruel that way.

Sure, she is my wife’s dog, but I don’t think I have cried that much in a very long time.

Until we meet again, again, she hated this picture.

She was our buddy, our friend, and our little snuggle baby. In the end, there was not much but good memories. On to your next mission my baby girl.

Art In Motion…

A friend of mine once told me, Lucas, you are Art. For those of you out there whose name really is Art, I apologize, I am not trying to be you. What was meant by this was, I am a living work for art. As precious as something that is in a gallery in France, I am a piece that is timeless, and priceless, and most of all, worthy of being on display. Continue reading “Art In Motion…”


This word came to Jeremiah from the LORD:
Rise up, be off to the potter’s house;
there I will give you my message.
I went down to the potter’s house and there he was,
working at the wheel.
Whenever the object of clay which he was making
turned out badly in his hand,
he tried again,
making of the clay another object of whatever sort he pleased.
Then the word of the LORD came to me:
Can I not do to you, house of Israel,
as this potter has done? says the LORD.
Indeed, like clay in the hand of the potter,
so are you in my hand, house of Israel. Jer 18:1-6

I am this piece of clay. Continue reading “Clay”

In Service

“Just so, the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Matthew 20:28

If you have ever been waiting on a service, like public transportation, and watched as a bus or a train whizzed by you with a sign saying something to the effect “Out of Service”, you have known frustration. Continue reading “In Service”