MY NAME IS PEANUT

My name is Peanut. I live with my master and mistress (Mom and Pop) and two cats. You’re probably wondering how I got such an inappropriate name. I suppose it might be because I weighed only two-and-a-half pounds when I came here, and I guess I am sort of peanut-colored. Even so, it doesn’t suit me. I’ve considered changing it, but everyone in the neighborhood knows me, so it would be cruel and confusing.

I have a large house and yard to guard. More responsibility than a small-uh - I mean single dog should have on his shoulders. However, I don’t flinch at carrying out my duties, no matter how arduous.

The household has accepted my leadership pretty well. Oh, it took some time, but all is settled now. I decide when it’s time to get up each morning, meal times, snack times, and bedtime for me and cats.

Patches is the elder cat. She ruled things around here before I arrived. She was the hardest member of the family to convince of my high position, but she has come into line for the most part. Actually, she ignores me a lot, except when I put my foot down when she moves into my space.

Baby is aptly named, as she’s a rag-doll breed. She is so laid back that I have to prod her into playing with me. As long as she is fed and can go outside to lie in the sun, she’s content. I rarely have to discipline her.

Pop is lots of fun. Almost always when I’m ready to play, he accommodates me - especially since he retired. He chases me around the house and sharpens my skills in scaring off the guys.

Mom - well she’s not so playful. She tosses toys for me to fetch, but racing around the table is not her idea of exercise. She does control the treats and is fairly generous. Both of them give me tidbits from their table, but mostly I have to depend on dull dog food. I can’t really complain. I’ve grown to ten-and-a-half pounds in less than two years.

The weight gain has been a great advantage. I can now push the swinging door in the kitchen open enough to get through, so no one can hide what they are doing from me.

I love company, especially Carmen. She cuddles me and plays. Most visitors like me and don’t mind me jumping up for attention, but after a few minutes, I’m commanded to knock it off. Sometimes my exuberance gets the best of me and I don’t listen. Unfortunately, this usually means I get snatched up and stuck outdoors - on a leash for heaven’s sake. How humiliating!

How I’m supposed to do my job as a guard when I can only travel ten feet beats me.

A couple of neighboring cats like to hang out by the squirrel’s tree. I can’t allow that invasion of my beat. My ferocious bark and threatening demeanor usually frightens them away, even though I’m tethered to a porch post.

I hate going to the grooming place. That guy trims my fur almost to my skin. The last time this happened, we had a cold spell the next day. I thought I would freeze. Luckily Mom and Pop got me a sweater. It’s great - the orange color suits me and signals invaders to beware. I especially like the added authority it gives me with the patch on my shoulder that assigns me to “Squirrel Patrol.” O course, I don’t chase the squirrels. They run up the tree and it’s foolish to bark at them from the ground. Besides, I rather like to watch their antics.

I helped Mom in the garden and flower beds all summer, but now it’s cool and she doesn’t go outside so much. So I don’t either. When I get bored, I made a fuss and she lets me out on the leash unless I find the right moment to slip from her grasp. What fun! I roam around the neighborhood and meet all kinds of new friends. When I get tired, I go home. Usually, there’s no punishment and I can get a drink and eat something before taking a nap without too much fuss.

When Mom and Pop leave for an evening or a shopping trip, I’m given full authority inside the house. I also get to take a much-needed nap on the couch. I’m alert, though, the least sound gets my attention.

A couple of time I’ve gone to the pet boarder. They love me there, naturally, and I get a lot of attention. After a day or so, it’s boring, no squirrels to catch or cats to chase. I hear Pop’s voice as soon as he walks into the office and I call an attendant to get out of my cage. I really perk up when I get near my digs. There’s no place like home.

That’s about all about me. If you want more information, I’ll be glad to oblige. It owe it to my public to keep them up to date on all my achievements. It’s good to teach the young pups how to behave. All in all, a dog’s life is pretty cushy.

The Joy of Adopting

We settled our youngest child in her dorm room and began the long drive home. As we left the city behind, my husband grasped my hand, gave me an impish grin and asked if I would enjoy a leisurely dinner at the next town. We thought having an empty house after so many years would be rather refreshing.

Several months went by. The children called often and made plans to be home for Christmas. At spring break, we had our three plus a couple of their college friends in the house. After they left, we felt lonely.

The next summer they had jobs away from home. The house was too big, too quiet. It needed young activities, so we decided to apply for a foster child.

A few weeks later a young tween to care for. The house rang with action again. However, after four months, she returned to her biological parents and we welcomed another young girl. She stayed two months. In quick succession, three small children graced our lives, each for a few months.

We were happy that the children could return to their families, but their absence left a crack in our lives. To fill that empty gap, we opted to try to adopt a child or two that would not capture our hearts then abruptly leave us. We discussed the idea with our adult children and they were enthusiastic.

After filling out a ream of paperwork, enduring physicals exams, and attending a week-end of classes on successful adoption, we learned we had passed scrutiny. Now the wait.

We were told we were past the age of receiving an infant and we agreed to consider an older child. We searched through photo books. The children were compelling and we smilingly told the social worker we would like all of them, but would settle on two to four.

A few weeks went by, then we received notice that two little sisters were available. If interested, we could make an appointment to visit then at their foster home.

The little girls, four and five, were adorable. We loved them immediately. We were so excited after the initial visit. A month later we were able to take them from their home for an afternoon and overnight visit in a motel. We had so much fun. We went to the zoo, and though it was cold, the children had a good time. We played games with them in the motel room and recorded them talking about everything. They seemed to like us and were very animated.

Another month’s wait and we were allowed to take them home. We were subject to a one-year probation with monthly visits to the adoption agency.

About two years later, we received a call, asking if we would consider a little boy seven years old. We said yes. We visited him at his foster home and took him out for the day. A month later the social worker brought him to us and visited our home for an afternoon.
This child was rather quiet and a little overwhelmed by our two exuberant daughters. They were delighted to have a brother and thought he was cute. Our new son soon seemed to like us and his new home, and began to adjust.

A few months later we were asked to consider another little boy, four years old. We were delighted. He would be a playmate for our son and complete our second family.

Get-togethers with our family were great fun.

The children grew into young adults and went there various ways. Did each one turn out the we had hoped? No. We do feel, however, that they are better able to cope with the world because our love for them. We now have sons-in-law, daughters-in-law, ten grandchildren and one grandson-in-law.

Our grandchildren do not live very close. Every once in awhile, my husband says the house is awfully quiet without children. I give him a wry smile and agree, somewhat. We satisfy ourselves by being surrogate grandparents to the neighborhood children whose parents work.

Little ones who have been abandoned or mistreated fill foster homes in this country. Couples who enjoy children, and have an extra pocket in their hearts, will be blessed to consider adopting a child, as will the child.

A Mom’s Morning

I made the bed and hung the clothes,

Fixed the eggs and buttered the toast,

Made the lunches and bagged them up.

I scrubbed the sink and scoured the bowl,

Washed the dishes and fed the cat,

Swept the floor and tossed out the trash

I showered myself and combed my hair,

Grabbed up my purse and sped out the door,

Drove thru the traffic and fed the meter,

Stopped short at the sign on the door,

“Please come again, we’re out to lunch.”