PLEASE SUPPORT "MOMO'S MIRACLES"

 

 

Pictured above: The children's book: "MoMo's Miracles"

Pictured Next: Little MoMo, who cannot see, and desperately needs cataract surgery.

 

For many of us, life is a truly blessed thing.

Though we have worldly troubles, we can still be thankful for our continued health, our ability to persevere, and for the many, many blessings God gives us.

But some of God’s creatures don’t have that.  Some of them have lost even their basic faculties.

What would you do?  How would you deal with the removal of a basic sense?

Imagine, for a moment, what it would be like to lose your sight. 

There’s no light, no color, and no shape to guide you.  The only images of the sun, the grass, the blue sky, of your loved ones, are those stored in the vault of your memory. These photographs of the mind are like snap shots from a by-gone era.  With each passing day, they yellow with age:  the true memory of the image, fading forever.

It’s not a pretty thought, is it?

As human beings, we have the ability to learn, to adapt, and survive.   Animals, though teachable, sometimes do not survive the loss of such a vital sense.  As the world slowly fades from sight, they can lose all hope.  Without help and loving hands to keep them active and to shape their abilities to adapt, they simply give up.

Now, what if you were blind, and a doctor told you that you could have your eyesight back?

What if the doctor told you it would cost $10,000 dollars to see again, and you had NO insurance.

You’d do anything in your power to be able to let that doctor heal your eyes, right?

You’d want anybody and everybody to help you reach that $10,000 goal. Right?

You’d pray for an angel to help.

Now, I’ve written all this to make a point.

Right now, the Humane Society of Dover-Stewart County is trying to be that angel.

MoMo is a two year old; eight pound Yorkie Poo, who has lost his sight to severe cataracts.  His eye sight can be restored with surgery. It’s going to be expensive.

 But MoMo doesn’t need 10,000 dollars. He only needs $3,000.

In an  effort to raise the money to restore MoMo’s sight, I have partnered with my good friends at the Humane Society of Dover-Stewart County by creating a little children's book called "MOMO's MIRACLES".

It's a simple children's story, written on a first grade reading level, that you and your child can enjoy together.

"MO MO'S MIRACLES" will sell for $15 per copy and IS AVAILABLE NOW!

You can arrange for purchase and to have your copy mailed out to you at: www.HumaneSocietyDover.org

Now, if you don't have children in your life, and have no use for a kiddie book, then you can still help little MOMO. I am challenging everyone who doesn't need a book to donate JUST $5 dollars. That’s right—FIVE DOLLARS. If you want to donate MoMo…I mean MORE…then feel free!

I know what the economy is like. I live in the real world just like you.

But I also know that we buy creature comforts every day that we could do without. If a bunch of readers contributed cost of a pack of smokes, or a cup of coffee, or a big mac, then MoMo could have his surgery in no time.  No amount is too small. This is about a community getting together to help one of God’s creatures.

 

And here’s FIVE WAYS for you to get your Donation to MoMo.

1. Call North Stewart Vet Clinic (in Stewart County, TN) to donate via debit/credit card. Ask to donate towards "MoMo" eye surgery. 931.232.9900.

 2. Stop by North Stewart Vet Clinic to donate cash/check/charge at 1613 Hwy 79, Dover, TN 37058. 931.232.9900.

 3. Use the DONATE icon (PayPal) button on the Facebook page:

www.Facebook.com/HumaneSocietyDover

 4. Use the DONATE icon (PayPal) button at: www.HumaneSocietyDover.org

 5. OR Mail a check or money order to:

Humane Society of Dover
533 Honey Fork Road
 Indian Mound, TN 37079

Whether it be by enjoying a book with our children, or donating from our hearts--TOGETHER, we can work miracles.

MoMo is just a little guy who wants to see again.

Have you been a part of a miracle lately?

I humbly ask that you please be a part of this one today.

 

 

RAIN RAIN GO AWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

Rain, rain, rain!!!!!

There have been times in the last few soggy days when I have wondered seriously if we should start building an ark.

Lord knows I have the beginnings of the zoo it would take to fill one.

There was a simpler time in life when I loved a rainy day or night. The soft pitter patter of rain drops on my window, the quiet roar of a sudden down pour on the roof, the gentleness of a spring shower: all of these things used to be so relaxing and renewing to me.

If I had my way now, I‘d build a glass dome over top of my entire property and never let a drop of the stuff ever touch the ground around me again.

What was the reason for this change of heart?  It should be self-explanatory that my insane for the rain was brought on by my five canine convicts, of course.

 I guess being a sugar foot is a black lab thing, though I was always told Labs were water dogs.

NOT!

Lucy, the Queen matriarch of the House of L, has not changed her mind about being wet. She hates it. She deplores it! She absolutely, positively, DESPISES rain.

Therefore, getting her outside to do any sort of potty time in wet weather is like trying to talk a deaf mule into a fifty mile hike up a mountainside.  In other words: it isn’t going to happen. As soon as I send out the call for volunteers to exit the back door, she immediately runs into her house.  We call it her “Fraidy Hole”. When the weather is wet, you can sure bet that even if I stuck dynamite under her fat furry fanny and put a hydrogen bomb in her old buck teeth, she would still sit glued to the bottom of her kennel.  

Of course she would look like Wyle E. Coyote after the blast—but I digress.

Linus, our newest induction into the hall of shame, has the same problem as Lucy. He will NOT venture out into the wet.  I push, I pull, I command him to enter the soggy fray and do his business. But I get nowhere. Linus has a big goofy smile, and very expressive, big brown eyes. It is through these portals to the soul that I can actually see him saying in a perfect Mortimer Snerd voice, “Nope, nope,nope, nope.”

Hines, the rat terror (I mean terrier) of Dogwood, has an issue with the rain as well.  Our welcome mat stretches out in front of the back door, and also rests under the dryer vent.  Because the dryer is ALWAYS RUNNING, and giving off a blast of hot air through the vent, the rug is always dry. This is where my special little guy chooses to park himself.  

Here and nowhere else. 

Daisy, my only reason to own a Thunder straight jacket, will run out into the rain, pee all over the concrete of the patio, and then bound back under the cover of the car port.  Leave it to Daisy to do what I ask—but do it half assed.

I’m assuming that everyone understands that those who don’t go outside end up having “OOPPSY”S” on the dining room floor—correct???

Who is the only fur child who obeys? The one with the heart of a lion and the expression of a brow beaten clown: my Charlie.   Charlie is neither afraid of water, thunder, nor lightning. He is not afraid to slog through the mud, wallow in the soaked grass, or run between the rain soaked bushes.   My Charlie, my love, my best pal: my walking ball of mud and soppy fur.

Yes. Once upon a time, a rainy day brought a blissful state of mind to this old man.   

But I try to look on the bright side of things. Without these four legged felons who control my life, and without the wonders and love they bring me every moment of our time together, what would my existence be?  It would be one where it rained EVERY DAY, dark and gloomy, lonely and full of sad.

If all it takes to keep my life complete is a few towels, a mop, a bucket, and a can of Lysol, I’ll endure the occasional rainy season.

After all, whether it be in my mind or in my yard, the sun has to come out sometime.