For all of you that have written and called and inquired. Thanks.
JUST A DOG
From time to time, people tell me, "lighten up, it's just a dog,"
or, "that's a lot of money for just a dog."
They don't understand the distance traveled, the time spent, or the costs involved for "just a dog."
Some of my proudest moments have come about with "just a dog."
Many hours have passed and my only company was "just a dog,"
but I did not once feel slighted.
Some of my saddest moments have been brought about by "just a dog,"
and in those days of darkness, the gentle touch of "just a dog" gave me comfort and reason to overcome the day.
If you, too, think it's "just a dog," then you will probably understand phrases like "just a friend," "just a sunrise," or "just a promise."
"Just a dog" brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust, and pure unbridled joy.
"Just a dog" brings out the compassion and patience that make me a better person. Because of "just a dog", I will rise early, take long walks and look longingly to the future. So for me and folks like me, it's not "just a dog" but an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future, the fond memories of the past, and the pure joy of the moment.
"Just a dog" brings out what's good in me and diverts my thoughts away from myself and the worries of the day.
I hope that someday they can understand that it's not "just a dog”, but the thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being "just a man or woman." So the next time you hear the phrase "just a dog." just smile -- because they "just don't understand."
"Just a Dog" by Richard Biby, Broken Arrow, Oklahoma
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 15, 2008
"Angels Without Wings"
"Angels Come in Many Shapes and Sizes"
Christmas, 1995: This year's Christmas story is a very personal one. Some of you may
want to stop right now and read no further. This would be especially true if you find that reading about a person's deepest feelings would embarrass you or make you feel uncomfortable in any way. This is a true recounting from my perspective of a very troubling experience I had this past year. I have deliberated a long while to try and decide whether to share it or not. I recognize, since I am trained in psychology and counseling, that part of this sharing is my own therapy. I also realize how vulnerable writing this story and sharing it makes me. Further, I fully recognize that I didn't follow the advice I would have given any client in a similar situation -- get professional help when you need it. Yet, I believe if this story helps just one of my friends to put their life into perspective, the sharing of it -- even as deeply personal and painful as it is -- will have been worth it. Therefore, this story begins on a down note yet it ends on a much more upbeat one. No names have been changed to protect anyone :-)
"Angels Come in Many Shapes and Forms," Marilyn King, dear friend and psychotherapist, San Francisco, CA, September, 1995
When January, 1995 rolled onto the scene, things in my life were already less than satisfactory. Although my business had taken off and I had been quite pleased with the income and work load, the project that meant the most to me -- a Department of Energy land use planning activity, known as "The Common Ground Process" -- had been placed in a 'black hole' by the senior management at Oak Ridge.
Now, you would expect that someone who had spent 21-years working in and around the
government would not have been so distressed over such asinine actions. Quite the opposite, however, was my reaction. For the first time in my own business I felt, not thought mind you at first that is, I felt as if my personal and professional self-esteem had been ripped from me. I felt as if the government and contracting associates who were making such decisions were personally and professionally attacking me and my credibility as a person and professional. Combine these feelings with the painful losses I had not mourned from the death of my beloved Donna Walls and the anxiety I had for my Dad, Bert and Diane's health and you have some sense of my angst.
It wasn't as if I didn't have work and billable hours -- the most important aspects of working for yourself is the scared billable 60-minutes. The work continued at a slower pace, the bills could be met, and we weren't going to starve. What I didn't have -- it seemed to me-- was a voice, or a way in which to influence, educate, inform, and elucidate the importance of not screwing up such an important undertaking as this land use work. What I experienced again in my life --- I had experienced it before at TVA --- was government and its management pointing the proverbial gun at the foot and beginning to pull back on the trigger. Yet, this time my foot was within striking range and I damn well didn't like it!
Days and weeks dragged by while decisions weren't made and in reality avoided. Commitments to interact and involve the public began to fall to the side when government and contract managers began to realize that the efforts being undertaken could really mean that the taxpayer, the public, the stakeholder -- was indeed being asked to speak up and speak out about a subject that could impact them for years to come. "My gawd," as my dear friend Bob Mundy used to say, we were actually providing a forum for government and its contractor to not just play the game of public participation but to actually participate by listening and responding not in a "spin-control" way but rather in a true problem-solving, conflict resolving mode.
Before I proceed, let me state that I recognize that such a mode of operation is foreign to any government agency. Further, I understand that it makes absolutely no difference what the Secretary of a department says, or for that matter a President -- "the will bee's" ("we will be here long after any President or Secretary is gone") actually run government. I used to think like a 'will bee' and I knew the 'seemingly powerful' position that such a government manager thinks he has.
However, I had been optimistic enough to believe that maybe, just maybe, government
really was changing it stripes. Now, in reality I should have known that when I was hired as a subcontractor -- the last of the food chain and lowest of the low in the contracting business -- to ostensibly 'manage and coordinate' this project from a community relations viewpoint that the management of such a process was not possible. I had recognized early on the issues, problems and frustration associated with such an untenable position. Eventually I got myself from the middle of that position and into one where I could provide counsel, consult and practice those skills, which I could excel at.
Perhaps, it was the culmination of all this angst, frustration, and bafflement that ultimately led to the feelings that were about to erupt in me. Whatever, they simmered only briefly and then erupted in a fury. Questions of self-worth, self-respect, and self-esteem began to haunt my sleep and waking hours. My consumption of alcohol increased, sleep either evaded me or encompassed me, irritability, and anxiety became daily and constant companions.
Perhaps, it wasn't until the day that I knew beyond any doubt that the bullets for the rifle had to be locked in the storage house outside did I realize how deep a depression I had. That realization came to me one day when I found myself sitting alone in the floor in the guest bedroom rifle in hand.
I felt and believed for this period of time that I was totally and completely alone, unloved, uncared for, and lost. Kay's presence, nor the cats, or those occasions where our dear friends Robby and Diane visited changed that feeling. I found it made no difference what I did. I threw myself into what work I could focus on, I wrote some of my feelings down but that got too painful.
Some of you will recall that at the first of January I had spent a few days in the hospital. I began to drift back to that time and think about how cared for I was but that didn't help stop the spiraling downward depression from relentlessly attacking me.
Being the type of person who has never asked for help I found it was no easier when I was in such pain. I called friends under the pretense of checking on them. One night when Kay was gone to a meeting I drank very heavily and called to talk to Jim, Bert, and Marilyn. Jim was out, Bert and I visited a brief while but superficially, and at Marilyn's I got a recorded message. Still I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone I needed their help. I couldn't admit the need to Kay -- for the fear that I would be seen as weak and immature. Kay had warned me that one of the most difficult things I would experience working alone would be the loss of companionship. Those words haunted me as I tried to decide what was best for me, for her and my friends.
I honestly can tell you that I thought seriously about suicide. This had not been the first time in my life -- the other times, as I reflected, all had similar traits to this occasion. I had had similar thoughts as a teenager when my Dad left home, after my divorce, and after the aborted relationship I had with the married woman while I was single. Each of those times, however, I had been able to talk with someone that I worked with or a friend that was nearby and available that could provide me an objective perspective. This time I felt I had no such outlets. I considered seeking private counseling -- something that I have always suggested to my own clients and friends. Yet my ego wouldn't allow me the courage to ask for help from a stranger.
Then, one weekend when Kay and I were walking in the woods on the ridge behind Oak
Ridge an 'angel' appeared in my life. Too say that this angel saved my life wouldn't be an understatement. Like many people who experience angels I really didn't know what to make of the situation. I was scheduled to go on a trip to Vegas on business and frankly I just didn't feel I had time for an angel or anything else. But it seems the Universe and God had other intentions.
We still have this angel in our family. We call him 'Stempy.' Although Kay realized only after naming him that 'Stempy' is the cat in the cartoon series, 'Ren and Stempy.' His official name is H.J.D. Stempson -- at least that is what I say to any one who wants the 'official' name. That stands for "Happy Jumping Dog Stempson." He has brought a totally new meaning of joy, love, compassion and feeling to my life. I have named him the Chief Financial Officer for The Armstrong Group -- one bark for "yes" buy it or do it; two barks for "no" let's take a walk! More importantly, he has provided me a focus and a depth of understanding about myself that didn't previously exist.
You see this dog, a combination -- at least in my eyes-- of perhaps, wolf, coyote, shepherd,and husky brought perspective back to my life. I had dogs as a child -- cats too. Yet, as an only child, I always hesitated getting too close to them for fear that they would leave me. I always felt that to provide unconditional love to them would somehow end up hurting me. This is not to say that I wasn't warm and affectionate toward them, as I am toward many of my friends, yet it is to say that I still withheld a small part of me. Stempy would bear no quarter in letting me withhold anything. His soulful brown eyes and smiley face captured my heart and wormed its way into my very soul.
Somehow he helps me open up and talk again --- if just to him --- about those things which trouble me. Things that have long haunted me from the 60s and 70s. Things that keep me awake at night. He helps me to show genuine and uninhibited affection, attention, and generosity. He helps me better understand what sharing of the spirit can mean in feeling okay with yourself.
I love this dog unconditionally. Perhaps, more than I ever loved any other dog in my life. He has become my best friend and constant companion. My friend Bert reminded me this year at deer camp that we shouldn't get too close to our dogs since too often something happens to them.
He's probably right. But for now in my life I want to be close to this dog. He listens to me and doesn't judge me. He shows me respect and kindness and he loves me back unconditionally.
Perhaps, the lesson that this funny little angel brought me was one that I have known all along but that needed reinforcement --- sometimes in life we must take risks and when we do sometimes we are generously rewarded --- we are at all times better for it because we are then and only then fully living life.
The feelings of depression began to subside when Stempy came into our home. My level
of emotion and depth of feeling about life however is deeper and more meaningful to me than ever.
Perhaps, I have finally begun the slow and arduous process of forgiving myself for not being the perfect son and husband. Perhaps, I have recognized through this dog that life is too short to not live it too its fullest; that laughing and crying and feeling the depths of my emotional world are okay. And maybe I am learning that at 45 years old there is much more to life than just trying to make money, stay up with the Joneses, and be something that I was never cut out to be.
It is these life lessons that Stempy has helped bring into perspective. You may say that it is all part of going through the middle age crisis. Maybe it is. Yet, somewhere within me I know that angels do come in all shapes and sizes and sometimes they are a funny little dog that makes you smile and laugh just thinking about him.
So, as we wrap up 1995 and plunge into 1996, we prayerfully hope that you and your
families will be richly blessed. May you have the happiest and most prosperous of New Years' ever.
END
December, 1995
Christmas, 1995: This year's Christmas story is a very personal one. Some of you may
want to stop right now and read no further. This would be especially true if you find that reading about a person's deepest feelings would embarrass you or make you feel uncomfortable in any way. This is a true recounting from my perspective of a very troubling experience I had this past year. I have deliberated a long while to try and decide whether to share it or not. I recognize, since I am trained in psychology and counseling, that part of this sharing is my own therapy. I also realize how vulnerable writing this story and sharing it makes me. Further, I fully recognize that I didn't follow the advice I would have given any client in a similar situation -- get professional help when you need it. Yet, I believe if this story helps just one of my friends to put their life into perspective, the sharing of it -- even as deeply personal and painful as it is -- will have been worth it. Therefore, this story begins on a down note yet it ends on a much more upbeat one. No names have been changed to protect anyone :-)
"Angels Come in Many Shapes and Forms," Marilyn King, dear friend and psychotherapist, San Francisco, CA, September, 1995
When January, 1995 rolled onto the scene, things in my life were already less than satisfactory. Although my business had taken off and I had been quite pleased with the income and work load, the project that meant the most to me -- a Department of Energy land use planning activity, known as "The Common Ground Process" -- had been placed in a 'black hole' by the senior management at Oak Ridge.
Now, you would expect that someone who had spent 21-years working in and around the
government would not have been so distressed over such asinine actions. Quite the opposite, however, was my reaction. For the first time in my own business I felt, not thought mind you at first that is, I felt as if my personal and professional self-esteem had been ripped from me. I felt as if the government and contracting associates who were making such decisions were personally and professionally attacking me and my credibility as a person and professional. Combine these feelings with the painful losses I had not mourned from the death of my beloved Donna Walls and the anxiety I had for my Dad, Bert and Diane's health and you have some sense of my angst.
It wasn't as if I didn't have work and billable hours -- the most important aspects of working for yourself is the scared billable 60-minutes. The work continued at a slower pace, the bills could be met, and we weren't going to starve. What I didn't have -- it seemed to me-- was a voice, or a way in which to influence, educate, inform, and elucidate the importance of not screwing up such an important undertaking as this land use work. What I experienced again in my life --- I had experienced it before at TVA --- was government and its management pointing the proverbial gun at the foot and beginning to pull back on the trigger. Yet, this time my foot was within striking range and I damn well didn't like it!
Days and weeks dragged by while decisions weren't made and in reality avoided. Commitments to interact and involve the public began to fall to the side when government and contract managers began to realize that the efforts being undertaken could really mean that the taxpayer, the public, the stakeholder -- was indeed being asked to speak up and speak out about a subject that could impact them for years to come. "My gawd," as my dear friend Bob Mundy used to say, we were actually providing a forum for government and its contractor to not just play the game of public participation but to actually participate by listening and responding not in a "spin-control" way but rather in a true problem-solving, conflict resolving mode.
Before I proceed, let me state that I recognize that such a mode of operation is foreign to any government agency. Further, I understand that it makes absolutely no difference what the Secretary of a department says, or for that matter a President -- "the will bee's" ("we will be here long after any President or Secretary is gone") actually run government. I used to think like a 'will bee' and I knew the 'seemingly powerful' position that such a government manager thinks he has.
However, I had been optimistic enough to believe that maybe, just maybe, government
really was changing it stripes. Now, in reality I should have known that when I was hired as a subcontractor -- the last of the food chain and lowest of the low in the contracting business -- to ostensibly 'manage and coordinate' this project from a community relations viewpoint that the management of such a process was not possible. I had recognized early on the issues, problems and frustration associated with such an untenable position. Eventually I got myself from the middle of that position and into one where I could provide counsel, consult and practice those skills, which I could excel at.
Perhaps, it was the culmination of all this angst, frustration, and bafflement that ultimately led to the feelings that were about to erupt in me. Whatever, they simmered only briefly and then erupted in a fury. Questions of self-worth, self-respect, and self-esteem began to haunt my sleep and waking hours. My consumption of alcohol increased, sleep either evaded me or encompassed me, irritability, and anxiety became daily and constant companions.
Perhaps, it wasn't until the day that I knew beyond any doubt that the bullets for the rifle had to be locked in the storage house outside did I realize how deep a depression I had. That realization came to me one day when I found myself sitting alone in the floor in the guest bedroom rifle in hand.
I felt and believed for this period of time that I was totally and completely alone, unloved, uncared for, and lost. Kay's presence, nor the cats, or those occasions where our dear friends Robby and Diane visited changed that feeling. I found it made no difference what I did. I threw myself into what work I could focus on, I wrote some of my feelings down but that got too painful.
Some of you will recall that at the first of January I had spent a few days in the hospital. I began to drift back to that time and think about how cared for I was but that didn't help stop the spiraling downward depression from relentlessly attacking me.
Being the type of person who has never asked for help I found it was no easier when I was in such pain. I called friends under the pretense of checking on them. One night when Kay was gone to a meeting I drank very heavily and called to talk to Jim, Bert, and Marilyn. Jim was out, Bert and I visited a brief while but superficially, and at Marilyn's I got a recorded message. Still I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone I needed their help. I couldn't admit the need to Kay -- for the fear that I would be seen as weak and immature. Kay had warned me that one of the most difficult things I would experience working alone would be the loss of companionship. Those words haunted me as I tried to decide what was best for me, for her and my friends.
I honestly can tell you that I thought seriously about suicide. This had not been the first time in my life -- the other times, as I reflected, all had similar traits to this occasion. I had had similar thoughts as a teenager when my Dad left home, after my divorce, and after the aborted relationship I had with the married woman while I was single. Each of those times, however, I had been able to talk with someone that I worked with or a friend that was nearby and available that could provide me an objective perspective. This time I felt I had no such outlets. I considered seeking private counseling -- something that I have always suggested to my own clients and friends. Yet my ego wouldn't allow me the courage to ask for help from a stranger.
Then, one weekend when Kay and I were walking in the woods on the ridge behind Oak
Ridge an 'angel' appeared in my life. Too say that this angel saved my life wouldn't be an understatement. Like many people who experience angels I really didn't know what to make of the situation. I was scheduled to go on a trip to Vegas on business and frankly I just didn't feel I had time for an angel or anything else. But it seems the Universe and God had other intentions.
We still have this angel in our family. We call him 'Stempy.' Although Kay realized only after naming him that 'Stempy' is the cat in the cartoon series, 'Ren and Stempy.' His official name is H.J.D. Stempson -- at least that is what I say to any one who wants the 'official' name. That stands for "Happy Jumping Dog Stempson." He has brought a totally new meaning of joy, love, compassion and feeling to my life. I have named him the Chief Financial Officer for The Armstrong Group -- one bark for "yes" buy it or do it; two barks for "no" let's take a walk! More importantly, he has provided me a focus and a depth of understanding about myself that didn't previously exist.
You see this dog, a combination -- at least in my eyes-- of perhaps, wolf, coyote, shepherd,and husky brought perspective back to my life. I had dogs as a child -- cats too. Yet, as an only child, I always hesitated getting too close to them for fear that they would leave me. I always felt that to provide unconditional love to them would somehow end up hurting me. This is not to say that I wasn't warm and affectionate toward them, as I am toward many of my friends, yet it is to say that I still withheld a small part of me. Stempy would bear no quarter in letting me withhold anything. His soulful brown eyes and smiley face captured my heart and wormed its way into my very soul.
Somehow he helps me open up and talk again --- if just to him --- about those things which trouble me. Things that have long haunted me from the 60s and 70s. Things that keep me awake at night. He helps me to show genuine and uninhibited affection, attention, and generosity. He helps me better understand what sharing of the spirit can mean in feeling okay with yourself.
I love this dog unconditionally. Perhaps, more than I ever loved any other dog in my life. He has become my best friend and constant companion. My friend Bert reminded me this year at deer camp that we shouldn't get too close to our dogs since too often something happens to them.
He's probably right. But for now in my life I want to be close to this dog. He listens to me and doesn't judge me. He shows me respect and kindness and he loves me back unconditionally.
Perhaps, the lesson that this funny little angel brought me was one that I have known all along but that needed reinforcement --- sometimes in life we must take risks and when we do sometimes we are generously rewarded --- we are at all times better for it because we are then and only then fully living life.
The feelings of depression began to subside when Stempy came into our home. My level
of emotion and depth of feeling about life however is deeper and more meaningful to me than ever.
Perhaps, I have finally begun the slow and arduous process of forgiving myself for not being the perfect son and husband. Perhaps, I have recognized through this dog that life is too short to not live it too its fullest; that laughing and crying and feeling the depths of my emotional world are okay. And maybe I am learning that at 45 years old there is much more to life than just trying to make money, stay up with the Joneses, and be something that I was never cut out to be.
It is these life lessons that Stempy has helped bring into perspective. You may say that it is all part of going through the middle age crisis. Maybe it is. Yet, somewhere within me I know that angels do come in all shapes and sizes and sometimes they are a funny little dog that makes you smile and laugh just thinking about him.
So, as we wrap up 1995 and plunge into 1996, we prayerfully hope that you and your
families will be richly blessed. May you have the happiest and most prosperous of New Years' ever.
END
December, 1995
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Deplorable Actions of a NC Trooper (They Fired His Ass)
WHITEMARSH, MD --- On Fox and Friends this morning you would have seen one of the most deplorable acts of violence toward a trained K-9 drug dog you can imagine. This "Man's Best Friend" was kicked and beaten by an ass of a supposed state trooper. The talking head for NC's Department of Crime and Public Safety says this storm "trooper" was dismissed for this "unacceptable and deplorable behavior" yet I predict the "unions" will reinstate the trooper. The storm trooper contends that he was "correcting his dog's behavior."Fortunately, another trooper was on the scene and videotaped the incident. However, there was no explanation as to why the other trooper didn't stop the act from continuing. Just as I said about Michael Vick, this man needs to be thrown into a pit with some pit bulls and let him get a taste of his own cruelty. At the very least, he should never, ever be given a position of law enforcement authority again. I will keep you updated on this story if we ever hear about the outcome. However, knowing the media and politics and unions this ass of a man will return "rehabilitated" in some form or fashion. By the way, I know many law enforcement officers. I have worked with them and trained them in various skills. The vast majority of these men and women would feel as I do about this ass. For them, we give them our respect and credit for doing jobs that are underpaid and dangerous at times. For the few that are like this --- well, you know my opinion.
Until next time.
Dr. Darryl
L. Darryl Armstrong
www.armstrongandassociates.org
Until next time.
Dr. Darryl
L. Darryl Armstrong
www.armstrongandassociates.org
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
From Chilton, Wisc.
CHILTON, WISC. BEST WESTERN HOTEL --- Another week of work on the road. Life at Lake Barkley continues to be wet and muddy and this has delayed the final cleanup of our lake property. The boys are all doing well. Kay tells me that little Bit and Max went to the groomers yesterday and Stimpy had a day of good solid R and R. The old man is hanging in there. Although he seems to be getting thinner and thinner on me. He has enjoyed the spring and teaching Max to dig moles and shrews out of the ground. Max being the lover likes to play with his newly found friends and often carries them around with him like a toy. Kay and I both are having very busy springs yet life goes on and the business continues to grow and prosper. we are thankful. Stay in touch.
Until next time.
Dr. Darryl
L. Darryl Armstrong
www.armstrongandassociates.org
Until next time.
Dr. Darryl
L. Darryl Armstrong
www.armstrongandassociates.org
Saturday, April 12, 2008
12 April 2008 Update on Stimpy and Life
FROM THE BACK OF A FLOODED EDDY CREEK --- I have been remiss. Due to extensive travel demands and work I have not been back here to keep everyone posted on Stimpy and life so I thought it best I do that today.
Since we last visited I have been in Iowa,California and Maryland. Next week we are off to work in Florida, the following week Wisconsin and then back to Maryland. So you can see this is a busy spring and is shaping up to be a great year for the firm.
However, it is also taxing and does require that our trustworthy and dear dog-sitter Kandace spend an inordinate amount of time with the boys.
Little Bit recently had some surgery to remove a couple of benign tumors from his feet. He was a trooper and is doing just fine. He is my recliner dog. Each evening he and I settle into the recliner after a long day of work to have a cocktail and watch the news or some other trash on television. He likes to snuggle.
Max is doing just fine. He is now about 75-pounds and is still as loving as ever to his best buddy Stimpy. Max gives him lots of love, attention and kisses. Max has always been a sweet dog but these days even more so.
Stimpy, I am pleased to say, is holding his own although he does seem to get thinner every day. He is eating well and pooping well as long as he gets his stool softeners. Today, he is sharing space with our housekeeper's two children - 3 and 5 years old and I am proud to say he is doing very well with them. Max and Little Bit also have been entertained by them.
Here is Stimpy with his frog just one of several of his toys. You will recall that Stimpy is very gentle with his toys and always tries to ensure they stay pristeen in appearance. Max and Little Bit on the other hand have been known to chew on them. Here he is protecting Mr. Frog.
I continue to appreciate all of you that have been checking on me and the Old Man. It means a lot to the both of us. This has been a difficult spring for me with Stimpy's situation and frankly I have been fighting off a terrible depression. A couple of my clients have become challenging and caused me to question whether I should continue with them, or not, and grief is finally catching up with me as it always does eventually. So, keep us both in your thoughts and prayers. We will appreciate it.
Until next time.
Dr. Darryl
L. Darryl Armstrong
www.armstrongandassociates.org
Since we last visited I have been in Iowa,California and Maryland. Next week we are off to work in Florida, the following week Wisconsin and then back to Maryland. So you can see this is a busy spring and is shaping up to be a great year for the firm.
However, it is also taxing and does require that our trustworthy and dear dog-sitter Kandace spend an inordinate amount of time with the boys.
Little Bit recently had some surgery to remove a couple of benign tumors from his feet. He was a trooper and is doing just fine. He is my recliner dog. Each evening he and I settle into the recliner after a long day of work to have a cocktail and watch the news or some other trash on television. He likes to snuggle.
Max is doing just fine. He is now about 75-pounds and is still as loving as ever to his best buddy Stimpy. Max gives him lots of love, attention and kisses. Max has always been a sweet dog but these days even more so.
Stimpy, I am pleased to say, is holding his own although he does seem to get thinner every day. He is eating well and pooping well as long as he gets his stool softeners. Today, he is sharing space with our housekeeper's two children - 3 and 5 years old and I am proud to say he is doing very well with them. Max and Little Bit also have been entertained by them.
Here is Stimpy with his frog just one of several of his toys. You will recall that Stimpy is very gentle with his toys and always tries to ensure they stay pristeen in appearance. Max and Little Bit on the other hand have been known to chew on them. Here he is protecting Mr. Frog.
I continue to appreciate all of you that have been checking on me and the Old Man. It means a lot to the both of us. This has been a difficult spring for me with Stimpy's situation and frankly I have been fighting off a terrible depression. A couple of my clients have become challenging and caused me to question whether I should continue with them, or not, and grief is finally catching up with me as it always does eventually. So, keep us both in your thoughts and prayers. We will appreciate it.
Until next time.
Dr. Darryl
L. Darryl Armstrong
www.armstrongandassociates.org
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Easter, 2008
FROM THE BACK OF EDDY CREEK ON LAKE BARKLEY --- Today, Christians around the world believe that Jesus Christ rose bodily from his tomb and walked once again among his followers. It is all about belief and faith. The following story shared with me by Lynn Beckman, a dear friend and former student of mine who lives in St. Louis with her husband Bob, a surgeon is another prime example of the power of belief. I hope you enjoy the "Eagle" story.
Freedom and Jeff
Freedom and I have been together 10 years this summer. She came in as a baby in 1998,with two broken wings. Her left wing doesn't open all the way, even after surgery.... it was broken in 4 places. She's my baby.
When Freedom came in, she could not stand. Both wings were broken, her left wing in 4 places. She was emaciated and covered in lice. We made the decision to give her a chance at life, so I took her to the vet's office. From then on, I was always around her. We had her in a huge dog carrier with the top off, and it was loaded up with shredded newspaper for her to lay in. I used to sit and talk to her, urging her to live, to fight; and she would lay there, looking at me with those big brown eyes. We also had to tube feed her for weeks.
This went on for 4-6 weeks, and by then she still couldn't stand. It got to the point where the decision was made to euthanize her if she couldn't stand in a week. You know you don't want to cross that line between torture and rehab, and it looked like death was winning. She was going to be put down that Friday, and I was supposed to come in on that Thursday afternoon. I didn't want to go to the center that Thursday, because I couldn't bear the thought of her being euthanized; but I went anyway, and when I walked in, everyone was grinning from ear to ear. I went immediately back to her dowl cage, and there she was, standing on her own, a big beautiful eagle. She was ready to live. I was just about in tears by then. That was a very good day.
We knew she could never fly, so the director asked me to glove train her. I got her used to the glove, and then to jesses, and we started doing education programs for schools in western Washington. We wound up in the newspapers, radio (believe it or not) and some TV. Miracle Pets even did a show about us.
In the spring of 2000, I was diagnosed with non-hodgkins lymphoma. I had stage 3, which is not good (one major organ, plus everywhere), so I wound up doing 8 months of chemo. Lost the hair - the whole bit. I missed a lot of work. When I felt good enough, I would go to Sarvey and take Freedom out for walks. Freedom would also come to me in my dreams and help me fight the cancer. This happened time and time again.
Fast forward to November 2000, the day after Thanksgiving. I went in for my last checkup. I was told that if the cancer was not all gone after 8 rounds of chemo, then my last option was a stem cell transplant. Anyway, they did the tests, and I had to come back Monday for the results. I went in Monday, and I was told that all the cancer was gone.
So the first thing I did was get up to Sarvey and take the big girl out for a walk. It was misty and cold. I went to her flight and jessed her up, and we went out front to the top of the hill. I hadn't said a word to Freedom, but somehow she knew. She looked at me and wrapped both her wings around me, to where I could feel them pressing in on my back (I was engulfed in eagle wings), and she touched my nose with her beak and stared into my eyes, and we just stood there like that, for I don't know how long. That was a magic moment. We have been soul mates ever since she came in. This is a very special bird.
On a side note: I have had people who were sick come up to us when we are out, and Freedom has some kind of hold on them. I once had a guy who was terminal come up to us and I let him hold her. His knees just about buckled, and he swore he could feel her power course through his body. I have so many stories like that.
I never forget the honor I have of being so close to such a magnificent spirit as Freedom's.
Hope you enjoy this.
Jeff
Jeff Guidry and Freedom are at Sarvey Wildlife Center
Until next time.
Dr. Darryl
L. Darryl Armstrong
www.armstrongandassociates.org
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