In Memory of a Lost Family Member

36 hours ago my dog was happy as could be. She was roaming free out here in the country, rather than being trapped in town where she spent most of her life. Now she's dead. You must understand that I am not writing this because I am bitter, because I'm not. I am writing this because I'm sad. I really don't know how else to properly express my feelings than to write them.

My family got Hazel after a couple years of not having a dog. Our first dog had been shot when I was about 8 for chasing cattle. When I was about 11 we got Hazel. She was a cute little puppy. Hehe. Looked like a rottweiler with floppy ears. We lived in town with her for about 4 years, and she was miserable the whole time. She was always behind a fence, or on a chain, and it made her kind of mean. Not really mean, but if you didn't know her, you had better not approach her. We had a lot of fun in town though. Made a lot of memories with her there. Just like a family would with any dog. We went on walks and runs and she loved to pull us on our rollerblades. We played soccer with her, jumped on the trampoline, and even just sat and petted her quietly when we were sad. She was the one that we could talk to any time and she would just listen. Not give petty advice, not try to tell us that things were ok when they really weren't. She played in the streams in the mountains with us, and slept outside our tent when we went camping. Then, about 6 months ago we moved out to the country and she was basically free to roam, but she never went far. Out here in the country, we rode bikes with her, and watched the day to day progress of the chicks as they grew. We played in the snow and the wind. She was just like another child in our family. Except she was special. She had a self-assigned job. Protector of all things that she considered her territory. She protected our cat when it had kittens, (again.) She followed my 2 year old sister everywhere she went outside to make sure that my sister was always safe. Hehe. She even trapped our neighbors in their cars when they came over if she didn't like their scent. My family loved Hazel, and Hazel loved us back.

Yesterday, Hazel did something that my brothers and I thought she would never do. She managed to get into a cage containing some adolescent chickens, and killed 6 of them. Once a dog has killed a chicken, and gotten a taste for their blood, they can't stop killing them. It's like a drug. A dog that kills chickens cannot be kept. 

Yesterday, we had to shoot Hazel. We all cried. I think even my Dad cried a little bit. It was really hard. We dug her a grave, and buried her. This was the result.

(That's my brother Enoch's handwriting. She was his best friend.)

Now that she's gone, it feels as if something is missing from this home. I feel on edge. She was the protector. I'm sure she still is, but not in the same way. I miss walking up the front steps and seeing her laying above where the kittens are, protecting them while their mother is getting something to eat. I miss hearing her bark when people pull into our driveway. I miss sitting on the back steps and petting her. If you really want to get technical about how much I miss her, know that I'm crying as I write this.

Hazel, I miss you. I missed you quite a bit today in fact. The bike ride without you was very lonely. 

I love you. See you in Heaven.

My Life is One of Ups and Downs

Sometimes I wonder how I can be so happy one moment and more depressed than I ever have been the next. It has never made sense to me. I mean, I know. I'm a hormonal teenager. I'm going to have mood swings. But even before. When I was that scrawny little kid down the street that was too smart for his own good. I had major mood swings. As major as a child's mood swings can get anyway. Today was one of those says. Today the Boston Marathon was bombed. so far there are 3 dead and scores wounded. One of the dead is a small child. When I heard about this, I felt like a small piece of me died. These people are my American brothers and sisters. I would proudly stand in for them if they could live another day. Alas, I could not. This made me really sad. It depressed me enough that I couldn't concentrate on my homework without a movie or music playing to get this event off of my mind. Then I went to a wrestling banquet put on by my wrestling team to present all of the awards. While there I got the outstanding freshman award. Seriously, this made my day. I was so happy. When I got home, I started to see all of this Boston Marathon bombing stuff again. And it made me super sad again. I might just have to write a separate post on that needless waste of human life. These ups and downs happen every day. Not as big as right now though. I guess that I kind of get used to it. I lost right when a win was needed most this season several times in wrestling. Those ups and downs were huge. Many times I have ups and downs when I am thinking. I will think of a person that makes me really happy. As I'm thinking about that person, often times I will remember something that we did together, or something that they said. And it will make me think about something else. Like those in the world who are starving. Or the terminally ill. Or the amount of evil in the world. Or even about the lack of understanding that our world seems to have about true happiness. Maybe even that dove that I shot the other day at the feed store. I feel bad about that. I think about the wonderful things I did as a child. The time spent with family. The happy things I've done. Then I think about the point many years ago when I was ready to take my own life. Maybe I just think too much. I was happy the day that my brother Spencer went to the hospital for what I just thought was growing pains. I promptly became sad when I learned that it wasn't just growing pains, but diabetes, and that he was on his way to primary children's hospital. Then again, I was sad the day that my Grandma died. The day that my Great Aunt June died as well. But my family was there to make me happy at those times. Another time, I was sad and wallowing in self pity at the terrible person that I make myself out to be, after I got mad at my brother and threw a basketball at his head while playing at the church. Thankfully, a dear friend of mine was kind enough to find me out in the hall and teach me some piano duets to cheer me up. It worked. I still remember those duets. Many people say that all the pain and sorrow balances out with the joy. I have to disagree. I've decided that the joy in life is way greater than the pain and sorrow if you let it be. However, if you don't let the joy overcome the sorrow, it won't. You will be as happy as you determine to be. I figure that if I determine to be happy no matter what the problem, I'll do a lot more good than if I stayed sad. Granted, there are times when it's appropriate to be sad, but I'm over dramatic sometimes.
So today, if only today, I'm going to be happy. :) You should be happy too! :D

Who Am I?

There have been several things lately that have made me question, who am I? Deep down. Not the mask you see on the surface. The mask that I have wanted to become real for so long. I have always strived to become better. To become a person that other people respect and admire. A person that will inspire others to be better. A person that people would look to for advise when they need it. Honestly, I kind of took life like a competition to see who could be the best. At everything. Although those ambitions are worthy ambitions, I think that in trying to mold myself into who I want to be, I have lost who I am. It seems like helping other people figure out who they are is easier than trying to figure this question out for myself. I just wonder, how could something that I knew so well as a small child have slipped my mind? It doesn't make sense to me.
The difficult thing is that I'm not even completely sure that the person that I act like now isn't who I am deep down. I'm not sure that who I act like now is who I am or if who I am is really something else. If you can understand that question, you can understand what I'm trying to figure out.
This is kind of a pointless post, but this question is a big one. I may as well ask you the same question.
Is who you act like now really who you are or is who you really are something else?

I Believe There are Angels Among Us

The other day I was reading The Bible in the book of Hebrews. Chapter 13, verse 2 says, "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." and I thought, "Well, that would be cool, to entertain an angel. But it is different now then it is back then. People don't come to your door and ask for food or shelter." But, was I really correct in that thinking? I was in Salt Lake City over the weekend again. I realized something while I was there. (Why do I always realize things in big cities?) This scripture applied to more than just people coming to your home. I forgot to bring money to buy the homeless people that I saw a meal. I felt really bad about that. As I was walking to the car to leave, I passed a homeless black man. He was holding a sign asking for food. He was so respectful, and looked like a sincerely nice guy. That understates it. As I walked past, he stepped back and and nodded in a gesture of respect. I did the same. But there was something in his eyes. Something indescribable. He was so... Oh, I don't know. Brilliant? Unique? Humble? I don't have words to describe him properly. I wanted to do something for him so bad. But it was time to leave. I pondered later though about this experience. Was this man an angel? I'll never know. But I'd like to believe that he was. Now, I'm not saying that all homeless people are angels. It made me wonder though. How many times have I passed by an angel unawares? Maybe it's common. Maybe it's not. I don't know. What I'm trying to say is this.
How many angels have we walked by? How many of them did we ignore? How often have they blessed us without our knowing? We may never know the answers to those questions. But maybe we should start looking a little bit harder.