Tag: Rufus

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Be a Goldfish

The television more-than-a-comedy “Ted Lasso” is full of food for thought. Soccer coach Lasso has a take on teamwork, love, and how to live a good life that illuminates the best way to be a human. But one of his many bits of wisdom comes from the humble goldfish.

After a tough defeat, Ted says, “You know what the happiest animal in the world is? It’s a goldfish. It’s got a 10 second memory. Be a goldfish.” He goes on to encourage the team to forget the losses and focus on what’s next. Put the missed shots and opportunities, the losses and disappointments behind you and work on doing better. Shorthand for this, as the show goes forward (as we all are reminded to do) is, “Be a goldfish.”

I love this show. It’s one that is well worth watching. When I finally got to see all of it, I was spoiled for anything else. I just wanted to watch it all over again, which I quickly began to do. It is filled with nuggets of wisdom.

Be the goldfish. Leave it all in the past. Okay, don’t leave the beautiful things, the happinesses and glories, the lovely littles and bigs behind you. Keep those tucked away someplace safe. But don’t hang onto the ugly bits that aren’t doing you any good. Be a goldfish and swim over to your tiny castle, waving your pretty little tail as you go.

Rufus, paying rapt attention, as we all should.

I always feel that it’s important to look and listen for these bits of wisdom wherever I can, in whatever conversation, book, movie, overheard comment, child’s remark, dog’s behavior, act of nature, and of course my own reaction to something or other. It’s important to always be listening, paying attention, noticing. Otherwise, what might I be missing? What important message or idea might escape my notice? What bearer of wisdom might be left shaking its head and rolling its eyes, wondering how to get my attention next time?

But with “Ted Lasso,” there’s a banquet of wonderful morsels just laid out for you, so easy to pick up and so palatable. It might sound like I work for Apple+ TV but this show is worth watching. Honestly, I haven’t found much else of worth there, but when I find something like this gem, I want to tell about it.

Here are a few more Ted Lasso-isms.

“I promise you there is something worse out there than being sad, and that’s being alone and being sad. Ain’t no one in this room alone.”

“There’s two buttons I never like to hit: that’s panic and snooze.”

“I think things come into our lives to help us get from one place to a better one.”

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. If you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Sleep

I’ve known people who routinely have so much trouble sleeping that they regularly get up in the middle of the night and do things like clean the house or drive to their offices and do some work. This sounds like hell to me, as even the occasional terrible night really throws me. I had one of those last night.

A few years ago, I discovered I had sleep apnea. I had been so tired I was falling asleep sitting up in the middle of the afternoon. I thought I slept like a rock at night. Assumed it was some sort of imbalance. Turned out it was an imbalance of breathing.

Why in the world would you wear this thing while using an iPad?? (Philips Respironics DreamWear)

Due to the vagaries of health care, I had to go through many tests and waiting periods to finally get my C-PAP machine. I bet I’m the only person in history to have sung, “Happy Days Are Here Again” while walking out carrying, not a fabulous hat in a hatbox, not the keys to a red convertible, not a box of sumptuous French pastries, but a C-PAP machine. Woohoo!

Right away, the difference in my energy level was like day and night. Of course, it’s a love/hate relationship. A guy I knew (since passed) who had the same mask as mine bearing the hopeful name of DreamWear, called it “a sweet ride!” Please. No. It is less awful than others, but still, I add an expletive before “C-PAP” whenever I speak of mine. And I am frankly insulted when the app congratulates me for being “compliant,” i.e. using my machine for at least 4 hours a night.

Rufus, upon waking and emerging from under the covers

I hate that I have to use the thing. It’s uncomfortable and honestly, humiliating to wear. It limits where I can go and what I can do, e.g. camping, hiking to the bottom of the Grand Canyon, etc. But I’m grateful for it and I did drag it along on my recent trip to Taiwan, even on a bike. My son carried it on his regular bike until we encountered terrific wind along the coast. Then he asked if I’d carry it, since I didn’t seem to be having any trouble on my e-bike. “Sure!” I said. Piece of cake. E-bikes make many things possible.

I suppose, in their way, C-PAPs do, too. Breathing is good.

“Breath is the finest gift of nature. Be grateful for this wonderful gift.” ― Amit Ray, Beautify your Breath

“I’ve always envied people who sleep easily. Their brains must be cleaner, the floorboards of the skull well swept, all the little monsters closed up in a steamer trunk at the foot of the bed.” ― David Benioff, City of Thieves

“Laugh and the world laughs with you, snore and you sleep alone.” ― Anthony Burgess

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. If you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Sleeping Dogs

I decided not to call this one Sleeping With Dogs, even though that is really what I intend to write about. My two small dogs sleep in my bed. Miles has a dog bed at the foot of my bed, but definitely on it. Rufus, who is a Very Small Animal, wants always to be near a human, and he gets under the covers with me, not infrequently ending up with his chin on the other pillow.

He is a sweet, dear little dog, a cuddler, the one who will curl up with the parents of my piano students on the couch or with anyone at all who visits. Each person thinks they have an amazing special bond with him, but he is just pretty much like this with everybody. During his Grindstone days he found a young guy reading by the creek in one of those low beach chairs. Before I got there, Rufus had gotten on his lap.

Here’s how he was back in the day, in the woods, so full of life that he once chased a coyote all over the place!

Rufus has many health issues, which is why you never hear me mention him on these adventures with Miles. He is too tired to go. Back in the day he could run like a cartoon character with wheels for legs. He was the fierce Alpha, always bossing Miles around and trying to boss others, too. Now he is an old man, and how quickly that happened! He had a hard start to life and then we found each other and he’ had a wonderful life but now he is a tired old man with many problems. He has Addison’s disease, which is a pretty big deal in itself, requiring a shot every month and Prednisone every other day. He has a previously broken leg and back (part of the unknown hard life) and spinal stenosis. So the vet said don’t let him jump off of things!

My son and I put our mattresses and box springs on the floor so Rufus would have less far to go if he tries to jump before we have time to stop him. Because we certainly don’t intend to make him sleep on the floor, all by himself! Sheesh! My chiropractor gave me what I believe was the Stink Eye when I told him about this. “You sleep with your dog?” he asked, putting an unpleasant tone to the word “dog” and intimating that I curl up with him in a dog bed on the floor. I did not mention that there are actually two dogs in my bed.

Good vantage point from which to guard the house from intruders. See who’s closest to the door?

Also, Rufus has an enlarged heart and gets fluid on his lungs, so he takes meds for those things, too, one of which is a diuretic. Oh boy. So now, in addition to his nicknames of The Little Man, Little, Ittle (for short), Rufe, Rufle, Rufelly Dufelly, he is sometimes called Mr. PeePee Pants. I think you can guess . . . old man, tired, twice daily diuretic . . . Still, we haven’t kicked him out of our beds. It’s too sweet to have him there.

Little Dog’s Rhapsody in the Night – Mary Oliver
He puts his cheek against mine
and makes small, expressive sounds.
And when I’m awake, or awake enough

he turns upside down, his four paws
in the air
and his eyes dark and fervent.

“Tell me you love me,” he says.

“Tell me again.”

Could there be a sweeter arrangement? Over and over
he gets to ask.
I get to tell.

***

I found that when I Googled “pee pads” many such things popped right up! There is a solution for just about anything, I suppose. Or, at least, a coping mechanism, as we all know only too well. Coping mechanisms became our Best Thing last year, if we were lucky. And plucky.

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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A Month of Children’s Books

Here’s my Very Small Animal, Rufus, with his own tiny Eeyore.

I’ve decided to read children’s books through the month of December this year. Why? Well, the best of them are filled with wisdom, humor, beauty, imagination, adventure, and comfort–all things we could use plenty of right now. Here’s my list: the Pooh books, Alice in Wonderland, the real Peter Pan, The Wind in the Willows, the Narnia books. If you want to be happy, children’s books are a pretty good plan. And being happy is a pretty good plan, too.

I was collecting children’s books before my sons were born. I had always loved the stories and the art, as well as that dreamy feeling that all kinds of unusual things just might be possible, e.g. walking through the back of a wardrobe into another land. Then I had kids, which gave me an even better reason to buy all the lovely children’s books. I began reading aloud to Cole when he was a baby and then eventually I’d have the three of them crowded around me on the couch while I read and read and read. At bedtime when the story was finished, Cole would say, “End. Bed. Numie” (pacifier).

I made this clay sculpture of Pooh and Piglet before my sons were born and gave it to my sister one Christmas.
I have my special favorites, among them and maybe most of all, Winnie The Pooh and The House at Pooh Corner, the latter of which does have a rather poignant, if not sad, ending. There is something to love about each character, even grumpy old sarcastic Eeyore and Small, a beetle, the tiniest of Rabbit’s numerous friends and relations. Bouncy Tigger, timid little Piglet, steadfastly loving Pooh, bossy Rabbit, haughty Owl, Kanga and her sweet Baby Roo, and of course, the plucky, heroic Christopher Robin–all lovable and loved by each other, despite their various shortcomings.If only we could be as accepting of each other’s little peccadillos as they are. Deepak Chopra speaks of the “true self” or spirit as perfect, loving, creative, and light-filled. He says your true self cannot be altered or broken, no matter what you do or is done to you. It could be hidden beneath ego and personality–but it remains there, unchanged. I love this idea.

Pooh’s true self is always visible to us and to his friends, which is why he is so very lovable. There is no artifice or ego with him. He is a ball of love with arms, legs, a stout middle, and a head for poetry and singing. He is ready for joy and full of generous thoughts.Randy Pausch suggested, in his lovely book, The Last Lecture, “Be a Tigger, not an Eeyore.” Well, I’ve liked that idea ever since I read it, but now I think I’d rather be a Pooh. Tigger is awfully bouncy. Pooh is just Pooh, through and through–his true perfect self. He is ready for an expotition at the drop of a hat and also for “a little smackerel of something” at around eleven in the morning or at any time, really. I admire both of those qualities. Pooh loves his friends and values the little things in life. And he is very huggable, partly owing to those daily elevenses.

“When you wake up in the morning, Pooh,” said Piglet at last, “what’s the first thing you say to yourself?” “What’s for breakfast,” said Pooh. “What do you say, Piglet?” “I say, I wonder what’s going to happen exciting today?” said Piglet.
Pooh nodded thoughtfully. “It’s the same thing,” he said.

― A.A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh

This card, NM900 Wonderful Time, speaks to the friendships in these great books.

If you’re interested in my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you like this letter, find more of my writing (letters and poems) on my blog.

It’s nice for me to think of you out there, reading this. I hope you think about revisiting those classic children’s books you’ve loved–or discover some new ones, perhaps while enjoying a little smackerel of something and a cup of tea.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Dog Patrol

Sitting here writing away sun pouring forth

and all is quiet and peaceful when suddenly

the heads of my two dogs pop up in response

to some inaudible alarm followed quickly

by their two bodies as they step to the foot

of this bed hoping to view the enemy

outside that window Rufus growling

Miles on alert but only a few moments

after which turning to his still growling

compatriot looks him deeply in the eye

gives him a small lick on the nose and

returns to lie by my side, mission aborted,

crisis averted.

In due time Rufus will

reluctantly accede.

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Baby Squirrel

In the rough crook of the old walnut tree lies a baby squirrel

looking over the vast green world he has come into

just outside the hidey hole where he was born.

From my bedroom window I have a perfect view

of him enjoying his perfect view of leaf and branch

studying for future purposes the possible ways

down and up across and back from where he lives

routes he will one day take when he’s a wee bit bigger

landing him most likely somewhere in the vicinity of

my red dog in a game of chase that he will always

always win.

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Watchdog

My littlest dog keeps himself extremely busy

with many tasks and duties, first and foremost

guarding this house against intruders, i.e.

screaming at any person or dog passing down the street.

Catching squirrels which includes stationing himself at

the base of the redbud tree for as long as he must

until they finally escape away in the treetops.

Carrying his many disemboweled stuffed animals

in and out in and out of the house all day long.

Yelling from the car at any dog or person

choosing to walk on any sidewalk or street.

Chasing off the raccoon and the white cat

that lurk outside the fence at night.

Preventing my neighbor’s dog from ever

leaving her home or entering her own yard.

Ingratiating himself to All who actually enter

our home despite his best efforts to keep them out.

Getting everyone to love him more than

Miles the hedonist (not working on Mother).

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Rufus the Redhead

I call my small red dog “Little”
sometimes because he is and then
even still at times just “Ittle” for short.
For long “Little Ittle” and then often
enough his own real name Rufus
a Scottish name for a scrappy dog
as in a feisty Scotsman and meaning 
redhead, which he certainly is.  
For formal occasions or for scolding
Rufus McGonagle and really for his
complete whole entire name
Rufus McGonagle Foley
which is nice because I never got to
name any of my own real babies
Foley but only instead by their father’s 
surname even though I am the one by God
who grew them rather nicely within 
my own body and that, my friend,
is entirely wrong.