The Choice

The mother of our soon-to-be new puppy gave birth to seven puppies six weeks ago. Five of those pups are female, two are male. Unlike most of the people wanting a Labradoodle puppy from the same breeder, we wanted a male (perhaps as a way to balance out the dominate female energy in our house). These are the two males, the picture sent to us by the breeder so we could choose which puppy we'd like to call our own.


In the email she wrote: "The puppy on the left (in her right hand) is very sweet, but not as outgoing as the puppy on the right (in her left hand). If the puppy on the right were a student in your classroom, he would raise his hand to offer the answer, but be very polite as well. The puppy on the left would rarely raise his hand, but would know the answer if called upon."


She continued to explain that the more timid puppy would require softer discipline while the more assertive puppy would need a firmer hand.


It was a tough choice, but since we are both teachers familiar with a firm hand and clear boundaries, and both of a more outgoing spirit, we chose the puppy on the right. What sold us on the right-side puppy was not only his friendly confidence, but his smirk. Look closely at the picture. His smirk says, "Once you've taken this picture, can we go exploring? Can we play a little? Can we chase each other and roll around and then flop our front paws down on the carpet and wiggle our tails in the air? Can we, can we?"


It's been a difficult Spring. I've been socked with allergies that make me look like I've been in a bar fight. On our vacation in Santa Fe, I came down with a flu bug that made coughing as common as breathing. Ann has traveled thousands of miles, riding 14 planes in two weeks to first visit her father when he was still alive, then to return for his funeral, and finally to escape for a much-needed vacation to New Mexico. April is the one year anniversary of our beloved Chester pictured here at age 11 when we took him on an 11-mile hike where he romped in streams, chased butterflies, and relaxed in the sun of Spider Meadow.


We feel the heavy worry for my two former students now being treated for various forms of cancer as well as a deep love and concern for the years ahead for our beloved Fossilguy. And these are just the personal struggles -- the world offers us too many more.

Last night we travelled to Bremerton to hear the Seattle Women's Chorus sing the songs of Sweet Honey in the Rock as well as other choral arrangements of many great African American women singers and composers. We sat at small tables surrounded by my parents, Bookworm, and many other friends to feel the power of the inspirational music. It reminded me of how history is filled with examples of struggle and strife, people overcoming tragedy and hardships.

We are one ripple in that great pond. Our lives are filled with sadness, at times, but also with joy. On one hand is the death of Ann's father, but on the other is her visit back to Madison where she reunited with distant family and neighbors she has not seen for 30 years. On the one hand is the anniversary of Chester's death; on the other hand the anticipation of a new man in our lives. On the one hand, there is illness and on the other, there is NOW, this now filled with day-to-day activities that bring a simple beauty to living. Today will shall go grocery shopping, mow the lawn, finish up the laundry, grade papers and prepare lessons for the coming weeks, bake bread, ride our bikes in the sun, and hold each other as we fall off to sleep.

What choices we make today will not change the course of history, they will not determine our life's destiny. We will either choose nonfat milk or 2%, to mop the floors or not, to change the sheets or stay with this choice for another week.

We will choose one smirk over the other and life will continue, not as it was before, but as it should be all the same.