Remembering Taffy

While looking through old pictures of Harry for his Senior Ad in the yearbook, I came across pictures of our beloved Taffy.

We got Taffy the year Rich got out of the Navy. He was home and so it seemed the perfect time for us to try having a dog again. We'd tried 2 other times when our kids were young but it was too much like having another baby to take care of so we had to give them back. But at this time all our kids were at least past toddler-hood. So we picked out our cute little yellow lab and named her Taffy.

Rich got her house broken and she chewed everything. We played with her and loved her.

She loved a good snack. We could never leave freshly baked cookies out because she would find a way to get at them.

She was always there with us, whether playing, helping, hiding, or waiting.

She shows up in a lot of my drawings.

When Harry came along she was there. She was there to help him climb onto the couch. She was there when he needed a soft place to nap. She was right beside him when he rode his first bike.

Sabrina found her to be the perfect napping partner.

She loved laying next to Jeanette while she sewed.

She slept on our bed. She chewed our shoes. She ate anything we left within her reach. She was part of our family.

As she got older it got harder and harder for her to move around. We had to help her get on the bed. We left the sliding glass door open at night so she could make frequent trips to the potty (and she seemed to prefer the outside). Then one day she just couldn't get up. We wrapped her in a quilt and took her to the vet where we hugged her, petted her, and kissed her black nose as she slipped quietly away.

Even now sometimes I can feel her jump up on the bed and lay next to me.

I know that she is happy and running and chewing things and eating anything the angels are leaving unattended.

GPS and Cruise Control

I spent today with Kelly and Roko. I drove up to Folsom this morning and then drove home tonight. On the way home I was talking on my cell to my sister when my GPS started yelling at me to get over and take the next off-ramp. I quickly got over and exited and then said good-bye to Jeanette.

I got to thinking about how much I depend on GPS and what a miracle it is. I no longer panic about going new places, knowing that I will get lost because I have no sense of direction.

Today I got off the freeway at Folsom Blvd.- a different exit than usual and felt so lucky to have had my GPS take me this way because there at the end of the exit, poking up through the trees was the Angel Moroni atop the temple. I think the lady who lives in my GPS knew I needed that beautiful view this morning.

Not only does my GPS keep me from missing turn-offs it keeps me from speeding. Well, from excessive speeding anyway. Right there in the corner of the screen is the speed limit and how fast I'm going. When I'm going too fast the two speeds are high-lighted in red. Most of the time I'm in the red but not by much. It makes me wonder why everyone else on the road goes screaming by me.

Which leads me to my gratitude for cruise control. I set that little button on my steering wheel and stretch my legs out and relax. I don't have to constantly scan for CHP cars. (Oh who am I kidding- I still watch for cops.) I kinda like decreasing and increasing my speed with the little buttons on the wheel- although sometimes I get them confused with the stereo volume controls also located on the steering wheel. Again, I wonder why everyone else passes me like I'm standing still. Tonight, some guy had the nerve to flash his headlights at me so I'd get over and out of his way. I was only doing 70- obviously too slow.

So...GPS and Cruise Control. How did I ever escape speeding tickets and hours lost on unknown freeways going in the wrong direction before they came along.