Ziel-Lor's Incantation AKA Image

Ziel-Lor's Incantation is an Orange Roan English Cocker Spaniel and retired show dog whose registration number is SR 14389607. That's a mouthful for the ten year old four-legged furbaby who has found her forever home with me. I know you think this is going to be a sappy love story about a dog that won my heart. Unfortunately, it is not.

Incantation was such a long name, that her former owners called her Image. I distinctly remember the day I met her. Having spent a decade with essentially no real pets, my husband finally agreed to allow me to get "one". I was able to have Meechie flown in from Kansas. Meechie is a spunky red and white Japanese Chin that makes me laugh daily. We only owned her for several weeks when I just knew that dogs were like potato chips: "You can't have just one." I always wanted a Cavalier King Charles (just FYI...I have one of those, too--His name is Windsor, and he is a snuggle bug. He is also the baby of the pack), and I was investigating breeders at the same time I was remodeling my house. It was on a trip to Lowe's that I saw the most striking Blue Roan English Cocker Spaniel, that I had ever seen. He was being socialized by a very astute handler. I asked many questions about this dog and discovered the breeders had an Orange Roan female who needed a forever home. Plans were already in the making for me to meet her.

Meechie and I ventured to the breeder's establishment and I laid eyes on Image. There she was. A three year old furbaby who had only ever known this family, and they did not want her anymore because she was getting too old to use as a show dog. She would definitely be retired by five, and they were getting a jump start on the process. She had won numerous ribbons for them (which I often enjoy holding), but they were ready for a new challenge, a newer model, something with more pizzazz. When I saw her, my heart didn't leap the way it did when I met Meechie or Windsor. She was the wrong color, larger than the dog I had met in Lowe's and not nearly as perky in my eyes. She was very obedient, though...almost too obedient. It was like her personality became what they wanted it to be and not her own. And her name? Really? Image? The mere definition means that she is a representation of the "real" thing. What an awful name. Image is THE real thing. Honestly, though, I didn't want her. I know this sounds crazy, but the very fact that I didn't want her is exactly why I have made a commitment to her for over seven years now. Crazy? Probably.

Let me explain. My thinking was: "How could you have loved a pet for three years, spent as much time as it took to get those show ribbons (she has a lot of ribbons and awards), feed her, groom her, care for her and then decide you wanted to discard her when she was only a few years a way from retiring where she could then be your pet?" This is still foreign to me. I thought if I didn't want her, who would? They had already tried to give her to another lady, but she wanted a dog with more personality. Even to this day, Image will correct me if I don't walk her properly on a leash. It's hard to bond with a show dog. There are too many rules and not enough freedom (there's a sermon in there if I had time to preach it). So, I figured I could do this job, and I have for seven years now.

I blog about this tonight, because I find myself in a unique place with Image. Yes, bonding with her took some time; but she adores me to the point that it can be overwhelming at times. She won't even leave my side when I bathe and is always under my feet. I love all my furbabies the same, but truth be known, I like them differently. I wish I could say I liked Image as much as the others, but she is harder to like. I care for them equally, express my love for them equally, but my heart sometimes betrays me. She has been a bit of a handful lately, as she has developed some habits I have never seen in her. Sometimes I wonder if she is developing Dementia. For example, she adores tissue and paper. She wants to eat it at all cost. We are forever playing the game of hide the trash and hide the tissue--which I have long since tired of. My best efforts of retraining her and purchasing enough bones and chew toys to sink a ship have only made little progress. Sometimes I look at her and wonder what my life would be like if I had not brought her home seven years ago, and I immediately feel guilty. I know she won't have many more years left, and I do want to make her last ones the best.

In closing, I just have to say, she has taught me a lot. She's taught me about me. She is the most costly to me of my three dogs not only in grooming fees but also in physical resources, lately. She seems to be taking more than she's giving; but as I sit on the floor with my three furbabies surrounding me I realize several things. She is the closest in proximity to me. While I look down at her sweet grandmotherly face and sagging eyes her stub of a tails wags profusely as I rub her extravagantly soft, graying hair. I believe she is thankful, and I am thankful, too. She has taught me that love is a choice not a feeling. She has taught me that you can commit to something that's hard even when it takes longer than you thought and when you're are getting less out of it than you should. One day, I know I will miss tripping over this full figured fur ball, and I will no doubt miss my extra floor adornment as I bathe. Mostly I will miss knowing that there is nothing in this world that this creature loves more than me...except maybe tissue paper!!! Uggh!

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

My brother and I were the only babies born that night in the Pasquotank area hospital at the Outer Banks of North Carolina. In such a small town, everyone knew when a baby was born...but being twins made us all the more special! For years to come, strangers would greet my mom, my brother and me in the grocery store and say, "Ohhhh....that's our twins!" This was lovely! I enjoyed being born in a small town where everyone knew everyone else and where strangers were still family.

My charismatic, charming insurance salesman of a dad soon decided that he was called to be a pastor. We left our little, quaint Outer Banks community and spent several years roaming from church to church from one end of our beautiful southern state to the other. I went from being one of "Our Twins" to "The New Girl" over night. I hated this more than anything. 

When my brother and I became adolescents, my parents decided to once again establish some roots. Afterall, the instability of raising two teenagers was enough of a roller coaster ride for my parents, and I believe God completely understood. He may have even found some humor in it all. It was during this season that we established deep roots in the western side of Gaston County. I was no longer the new girl! Yay!

I loved my new community so much that I completed my education there and became an educator in this same community. I loved it so much that I served there for close to two decades. I enjoyed going to the grocery store and seeing my students and their families. I loved having parents come up to me at community ball games and tell me they were requesting that their child be in my class the next year. I relished visiting the local churches to see my students perform in some play or special program of one sort or another. Everybody knew my name, and I knew theirs! I never wanted to leave my home again and had no plans of becoming "The New Girl" again.

Well, life is funny, and I've found that we can never say never. This year, I was "The New Girl" again. I was assigned to work in the Belmont area. It was like saying I would be working in Egypt. I knew nothing of Belmont except for my brief time at Belmont Abbey College where I obtained my undergraduate degree; and Lord knows I had my face buried in books the whole time then to maintain my 4.0 average. So, I knew little of the Belmont Community. I was quite nervous about the change.

I began getting to know the people I would serve, making myself available over and above what was required and generally being "The New Girl" who was trying to find her place. These past few months have taught me that those "New Girl" skills which I painfully acquired have been quite the blessing. I also found out that I ADORE my east side new family! They are so dear to me!

It was the past few days that I realized I am no longer "The New Girl". The revelation was precious, priceless and a bit emotional for me. As I was frantically making my way down the walkway of my high school to assist a teacher who needed me, I passed by a group of ROTC boys who were doing their routine drill and practice. I was trying to ease past them so as not to disturb their intense routine. It was in this moment that I heard, "Hey there Mrs. Montgomery! How are you, today?" A bit stunned I turned to see one of those sweet ROTC students calling to me. He knew my name! Then earlier today, I was walking to a classroom at one of my middle schools. I saw a small group of students socializing in between classes. I passed the group and one of the boys very sweetly--yet casually---said, "Hey Mrs. Montgomery." I turned to look at him and am still not 100% sure I know where to place him, but he knew my name. So, I hope that means when I taught in his class I showed him in that brief moment that he was valuable and that I cared. This is my commitment whether I serve on the east, west or anywhere in between.

I'm not "The New Girl" anymore! Yay me! Yay to the little Lisa inside of me who learned some valuable skills long ago. Yay to the more mature Lisa who was willing to adopt to another change in life! I am happy to retire this title for now, but I never say never. Who knows when I may get to wear that hat again and this time with all the more confidence.

Sometimes You Get to Fly the Coup

There he was so soft and gentle looking at me with those intense but muted eyes. He was a chocolate brown with a hint of purplish blue. His feathers were gorgeous, and around one of his delicate, pink ankles was a band that told his story. He was one of the prettiest pigeons I have ever seen. As I held him in my hands listening to his distinct pigeony coos, I was equally elated and perplexed. Elated because I love me some animals and perplexed because, "What in the world was I going to do with a bird?'

I received a phone call from one of my coworkers, who is about as animal crazy as I am, that a homing pigeon needed a home---ironic, huh? He was stranded on a playground where he couldn't fly, and it was a very cold snowy day. A teacher took him home for some respite and began nurturing him, feeding him and helping him regain his strength. All of her attempts to contact the owner had failed, so she was now his new caregiver. Unfortunately, the felines in her home were as intrigued with the pigeon as I was, but for different reasons, of course. So, this is where I came in.

I was to pick up the bird after I got off work on Friday and foster him until I could find him a home. Several times throughout that day, I thought of him. Where would I keep him? What should I feed him? How would he fare without another pigeon buddy? I said a prayer that God would direct my steps and take care of His little bird. I have never doubted that God is concerned about everything that concerns me. My love cost Him everything. Of course, he cares for a creature that He made and that I loved!

After some fanfair, fluttering and flapping, we got the pigeon into his little cage, and I began to proudly walk with my prize to the car. As I approached the car door, I heard a soft flutter of wings and immediately felt a gentle breeze behind my head. Before I knew it, I saw my pigeon soaring up, up, up above my head. We were all speechless. What in the world? We watched as he flew higher. We watched as he began making one circle after another high above our heads. He was getting his bearings. He was finding his way home. It was beautiful. The pigeon had found an opening in the cage and with perfect timing he made his getaway. The days he has spent confined in his cage provided the necessary healing he needed to again take to flight. It was truly beautiful. I could hear God speak deep in my heart as I watched this bird going home.

Proverbs 13:12 says, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life." We've all had seasons like this where we've had a promise delayed, a victory postponed, an answer detained. We've all wondered, "How much longer?", and it's hard!! I've heard it said that, it's the dressing room of life that is the hardest spot. This is where we wait patiently until our moment arrives. It is frustrating, aggravating and sometimes feels hopeless; but the dressing room is vital. This is where the crucial preparation takes place. This is where God generates in us the skills necessary to conquer our Goliath.

I've had those moments lately. I've had questions that need answers and hopes that are deferred. I've been trying learn patience in my time in the nest. I have been learning to gain strength--to rest--to not push too hard (which is against my nature...I'm a "do it now" kinda girl). God is teaching me to wait. While Martha was serving and frantically running to care for people. Mary was sitting at Jesus' feet taking it all in. You know the story. Martha was angry at carrying the load all by herself, and Jesus reminded Martha that the load was NEVER hers to carry. There is only "one thing that is needful" and Mary had chosen that (Luke 10:42). The ONE needful thing is to sit at His feet...to rest in His presence. Everything else in comparsion to this is superfluous, and it will line up and come to pass when we put Him first (Matthew 6: 33).

So, as I watched my pigeon soaring high above me and finding his way home, I couldn't help but silently cheer him on. I silently smiled as I thought of his pigeon family who would soon see him and for his owner who would regain a pet; but I also smiled for me and for others I know who like that pigeon are in the waiting room---the nest---a cage. I cheered for us as we, too, will find our way "home" to our moment to our realized hope. In the meantime, there is only ONE thing that is needful. It is the "good part". I'm enjoying sitting as His feet! Isn't He lovely!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WNwS4cGc2Wk