“Dear, Boy Twin” and Emma
It’s been a tough week at Dream Believers Ranch. Yes, our “ranch” is called Dream Believers Ranch.
It seems like yesterday, but it is actually quite a few years ago, Elaine started dreaming about living in the country. Well folks, when you believe the dream, and oh yeah, save some money, you can buy a crappy old house in the country (with no kitchen) and live happily ever after.
That said, there are always going to be tests of your happiness.
Boy Twin received a “Dear, Boy Twin” letter this past week. Well, it wasn’t actually a letter, it was a Instant/tele/Gram. Oh yeah, and it wasn’t Instant/tele/Grammed to him, it was Instant/tele/Grammed to Girl Twin,
I don’t understand this Instant/tele/Gram stuff. The twins tell me it is like texting, but it’s not like texting. It’s like calling your friends on the phone, but you really don’t call them. The one thing I understand is you need a smartphone to do it.
OK, I don’t understand what I am saying either. I have no idea why a person would need a smart phone to talk to your friends by not talking to them. Just ask your kids, maybe they can explain it better than I can.
Anyway, Girl Twin received a message from Boy Twin’s “girlfriend”, that started with the old standby, “It’s not your fault, BUT……….” But, the truth is it was his fault, or his smart phone’s fault.
Boy Twin lost his smart phone somewhere in the pasture of Dream Believers Ranch this summer. Boy Twin does not know how to communicate without his smart phone. He went a few weeks without reaching to ANY of his friends. He also found out his best friend moved to San Diego mid-summer without telling Boy Twin. I guess he couldn’t communicate without smart phone technology either.
Regardless of what the message said, you can see Boy Twin’s problem is his fault. Or maybe it was my fault, or maybe it was Elaine’s fault. We knew he lost his smart phone. I didn’t get him another one. Elaine didn’t get him a phone. She could have. She had some free time.
I think Elaine is responsible for Boy Twin’s first ”Dear, Boy Twin,” letter/message/text/email. There is sufficient evidence to blame me, but I am writing this story. Elaine is at fault.
Now for the real stuff.
Some twelve years ago, Elaine started showing me pictures and photographs of Great Pyrenees dogs. When Elaine starts showing me pictures, I pretty sure this is something we are going to own soon.
Elaine looks at this thing on the internet, I think it is called DisInterest. When Elaine shows me a photo on DisInterest whatever will show up at the house very soon.
I believe things happen for a reason.
Twelve years ago I was building those coffee shops that are on every corner. The plumbing contractor that was helping with the coffeeshops also bred Great Pyrenees dogs. Are you seeing where this is going?
I bought Emma for Elaine. Emma was already six months old when she arrived at Dream Believers Ranch. Emma was “excited” to be there. Well, maybe not excited, more like terrified. She had just ridden in the backseat of a pickup truck for two hours to get to this strange new land. Emma wasn’t quite sure she liked where she was at.
When we took Emma out of the truck she immediately ran across the pasture and hid in the willows down by the creek. Ivy chased Emma into the willows. Ivy carried Emma uphill, one quarter mile back to the house in a blinding snowstorm, while barefoot. (OK, the snowstorm and barefoot part I made up. Ivy likes it when she is the hero of my stories. I did that for Ivy.) After Ivy brought Emma back, Emma crawled under the truck for the next two hours. Elaine crawled under the truck with her petting Emma for those two hours trying to calm her down. (Me? I was thinking if I can get Emma back in the truck I can take her back to the breeder before anyone starts to like her.) Coaxing a nearly full grown Great Pyrenees out from under a truck takes time. And don’t think you can pull them out, that doesn’t happen. Emma didn’t say it, but I don’t think she liked Dream Believers Ranch. I guess it all worked out.
Eventually, Emma decided to give the ranch a try. She found she liked living in the country. She even liked our family.
Emma was responsible for many additions to the ranch. Emma soon found out the boundaries of the ranch were something that didn’t mean much to her. Our family received telephone calls from neighbors that Emma was at there house.
Yep, Emma forced me to build a dog pen. It was a beautiful pen. Emma seemed to like it. While I thought Emma liked her new pen, Emma was plotting. Emma taught herself to climb over the fence. Once again the neighbors were calling.
Personally, I don’t know why it was a big deal when Emma would visit the neighbors. Emma was friendly, beautiful and just liked to walk around. I think the neighbors were concerned Emma would teach their dogs how to climb out of their pens.
Over the years Emma decided her job was to keep the rest of our dogs (yes, there are many) in line. She told the others when to eat and out of which bowl. Only Emma could eat out of all bowls, and she did!
Emma found that sitting under the dining room table was a pretty good place to be at our family’s meal time. Elaine was adamant about not feeding the dogs people food. I tried to keep Elaine’s wishes. But Emma has those big brown eyes, and they are looking at me. What’s the big deal if a bratwurst or something accidentally gets dropped on the floor?
A couple weeks ago, we noticed Emma didn’t spend much time under the table. She stopped eating the other dog’s food. Emma just wasn’t herself. The vet prescribed some meds. We knew it wasn’t good.
Emma was getting tired of being responsible for the rest of the dogs. Emma past away last Thursday. She is buried on Dream Believers Ranch. I can’t write anymore.
Our crazy lives!