Kymra had a story to tell me when I got home today.  As she started out with it, I saw where it was going and couldn’t see a possible good end.  In fact, I was wondering how it was that she could be telling me this story and still be so composed at the end of a the kind of ‘bad to worse’ day that I was about to hear about.

On Tuesdays, Kymra will often pick up a quart of soup from Honey Baked Ham.  Tuesday is the day that they make the Mushroom Cheddar, which I think is perfectly disgusting. In fact, I’m pretty sure that everyone in the house thinks its disgusting.  Sam, of course, thinks its disgusting because he doesn’t eat food.  At that, I’m pretty sure that the rest of the people living here that are actual eaters find it disgusting too. Perhaps that’s why she buys it; its one thing in the fridge that won’t get foraged by kids and dads and neighbor kids and so on.

She was explaining to me that since it was Tuesday, she had made her way to the ham store to pick up the soup.  I thought it was going to turn into a weather related traffic accident story but the subject quickly shifted to the cheaper and thinner containers that the ham store had gone to using.  They’re not as stable as the old ones and the lids don’t stay on.  This was proven out when the ham store bag slipped off the seat in the car and the entire quart of disgusting spilled all over the floor.

With things to do, Kymra had no idea how she was going to get this cleaned up.  She stopped to get the big chunks out but the mess was on and it was hefty.  It was then that she had what I am identifying as a moment of complete and utter brilliance.

We’ve got a dog. His name is Hoover.  He’s a big, not-quite-dumb-enough-to-get-rid-of, Chocolate Lab.  He tips the scales at about 110 and has a thing for shoes.  He doesn’t eat shoes, he just likes to carry them around. We think its sort of his way of letting us know that he belongs. He gets very excited when we get home and will usually sweep up a shoe on his way to the door where he greets us with a full body wag that oozes something of following communication: “I know I’m dumb, but I love you, I have your shoe, and I love you…”  Sometimes shoes aren’t available and he will grab the next best thing which can range anywhere from a stuffed animal to a medium-sized piece of furniture.

Hoover is named after our last dog who was also a large Chocolate Lab named Hoover.  I know.

So when Kymra got home she met Hoover at the front door, took her shoe from his mouth and led him to the car.  He hopped in and she closed the door behind him.  It was about an hour of work for him and, by all accounts, he did a good thorough job.  The car doesn’t even smell like soup.

I do like having a dog, but for most of this Hoover’s life, I’ve questioned his usefulness.  I can’t do that anymore; he has now earned his keep.

We’ve got a house guest for the next several weeks. Her name is Sabrina and she’s a mostly tan, with a little white, hamster.  She’s in her glass box with her little house that she spends most of her time in, her water bottle, her hamster-wheel, and whatever all of the sawdust stuff is that you line the floor of the box with, right in the middle of our dining room table.

When I was a kid, I thought I wanted a hamster. At some point, I’m sure that I also wanted a bird, a gerbil, one of the chicks that line the incubator at OMSI and any number of other animals that also double as snake food.  I think I got over this while I was still a child and my interest in animals became limited to those that come when you call them.

Sabrina is much smaller than I remember hamsters being when I was a kid.  I remember friends having these fat little things covered in fur in such a way that you couldn’t really tell the front from the back.  Sabrina is tiny.  Maybe its a breed thing–smaller hamsters for smaller snakes. I think more likely that this animal just needs more food and less exercise, so I’m upping Sabrina’s calories and taking her hamster-wheel away.

Actually, this got me to thinking.  I’m going to be letting our friends know about every other day that we’re calorie loading their hamster and that she is getting bigger. Bigger by the day. Huge. I’ll let them know that I’ve been putting Ensure in the water bottle and pouring gravy on the little rodent pellet food.  I’ve got a good four or five weeks to convince them that their hamster is rapidly expanding.  Then just before their return, I’m going to switch it out with the neighbors guinea pig and see how that goes down.

In truth, at this moment, I’m thankful that my big chocolate lab is dumber than a rock which, I think, may be just dumber than a hamster. If we’re lucky, and we’re likely to be, he’ll never know that there is another dependent creature in the house.

The following is a post from our friend Monica Gill.  Monica worked as a Case Manager for Compassion First in Biloxi, Mississippi, post-Katrina.  She and her husband Doug live near Washington, DC with their daughter Grace and four dogs: Cleo, Dutch, Margaret and Jack (Jack was a Katrina stray).   You can read more of Monica’s work at www.lifewithgrace.net.

I too became a believer in the Salvation Army through our Katrina experiences. They were amazing partners.

On Behalf of those Doing the Most Good…

“But I think the most likely reason of all, May have been that his heart was two sizes too small.” So says Dr. Sues about the Grinch who stole Christmas… although, I wonder if he wasn’t also referring to the officials at Bloom and Giant Stores in the D.C. Metro area. Recently these businesses have been deciding whether or not to allow Salvation Army Bell Ringers at their store fronts this season. Some have already refused while others are still deciding. When we heard about this we were profoundly upset. When we asked for an explanation the answer was: “Customer complaints” of feeling “threatened or offended.” Seriously?

So what do we expect the needy to do this season? Well, since the Salvation Army offends us, leave them to the government. “Are there no prisons? Are there no work houses?” says Mr. Scrooge.  We pay our fair share in taxes for such establishments.

Do these complaining customers and business leaders understand the repercussions of this kind of decision?

Let us paint a picture…

In 2005 Hurricane Katrina devastated the Gulf Coast. My husband and I felt compelled to help. We spent two years as full-time volunteers rebuilding homes for the victims. How could we afford to leave our jobs and home to do this? The Salvation Army.

It was the Salvation Army who set up a permanent facility in Biloxi, Mississippi. They provided a place for us to live on their property— free. Our trailer was hooked up to water, waste and electricity— free. They set up a laundry: washer, dryer, detergent— free. They fed us three meals a day, every day— free… just as they housed and fed hundreds of thousands of other volunteers for FOUR years of rebuilding after Katrina.

As a case worker the one grant that I applied victims for and was never rejected was from the Salvation Army. The Salvation Army GAVE nearly every destroyed home new appliances. Washers, dryers, refrigerators, stoves— FREE. I don’t have statistics, but you can imagine for the entire town of Biloxi, that’s a lot of appliances! And this was just one of many Salvation Army Chapters nationwide. If you were ever curious about what this organization does with donations… they are doing good… “Doing the Most Good”, just as they claim.

And in all our time in Biloxi the Salvation Army’s generosity was completely unconditional. Never once were we preached to. No attempt to proselytize. Never asked to go to a church service, or even make a contribution. Their gifts were absolutely free, no strings attached. Of course we all know that famous phrase: No such thing as a free lunch. To say all this was free isn’t really true. It was “free” to those who received, but came at a cost from those who GAVE.

Which brings us to the point:  Isn’t that one of the lessons of this time of year? Even if you are “offended” by Christian foundations of the Salvation Army can we not see the wisdom and compassion in the charity provided? How hard is it to just walk by if you don’t want to drop some change in the kettle? Do you have to completely block the effort for the needy? Especially this time of year?  Or perhaps we should just take the pre-reformed Scrooge mentality: “If they would rather die, [than go to the government-run poor houses] they had better do it and decrease the surplus population.”

We know many of you supported us in our mission to Biloxi, but we could not have done it without the Salvation Army as well.