Still out in the pasture (and other random thoughts)

• There is a new band that performed here recently and I bought their CD, which I have really been enjoying. Check out Ellery.
• My friend Julie sent me the most amazing and heart wrenching blog. Check out Confessions of a CF Husband and brace yourself. This guy is around my age (28) and his wife is in the hospital waiting for a lung transplant because she has Cystic Fibrosis and his daughter was born at 24 weeks and is in the NICU, so he basically lives at the hospital.
• Also look at my friend Ali's blog for some good insight and comic relief on mothering twins.

• Yet another group of friends are in the "departure mode" and are preparing for their big moves back home. I hate it when friends leave, not only for the obvious reasons of missing them, but because the move is such a big deal that it is (understandably) always on their minds. I find that once people have the date they are actually moving they become a bit like a horse going back to the barn and being back in the US is all they can think about. Of course I understand why -- most are about to make huge financial decisions in buying a house and two cars in a very short amount of time, along with all of the details of moving. However, I am still here and even though I don't want to go back to the States yet, on a rainy cold day when our heat isn't working and I can't figure out the right words in French to get the heater man to call me back, I can sometimes feel like I am being left behind.

• A friend once said that moving away from an expat experience can feel a bit like a death. As horrible as that sounds, it is kind of true. People start giving away their things. In return, you give them photos and reminisce about your time together. And even though you say you will keep in touch, in the back of your mind you know that you might never see them again. After they leave they pop into your mind every so often, but life moves on and after you have been here long enough, you start to forget their names and start saying things like, "I really miss that red haired girl. You remember, the one funny one that lived in Tervuren. I think she had a dog."

• Although it is a little awkward to admit to your friends here, I have come to realize that while we all stay busy and active with expat friends, all of us really miss our "true" friends from back home. I was taken aback once when a group of women all mentioned this. I thought, "Wait, we are all friends. What are you talking about?!?" But then I thought about it and even though I have plenty of friends here, I don't have any of those friends that really, really know my history. And I realized that history and shared experiences together are what really make a friendship.

And after all of these depressing thoughts, here is a good forward.

A Dog's Purpose (from a 6-year-old)

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife, Lisa, and their little boy, Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle. I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home. As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience. The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on.Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away. The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, "I know why." Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. He said, "People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?" The six-year-old continued, "Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long."

Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would learn things like:

* When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.* Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.

* Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure Ecstasy.* Take naps.* Stretch before rising.

* Run, romp, and play daily.

* Thrive on attention and let people touch you.

* Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.

* On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.

* On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.

* When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.

* Be loyal.

* Never pretend to be something you're not.

* If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.

* When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.