Saturday Haiku: Patch of Zinnias

a patch of zinnias

conveys the many stages

of life unfolding

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Photo by Charles Kinnaird



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Our New Graduate

Four years ago I had difficulty when that day came for our daughter to go off to college. We were thrilled that she was going to one of the top liberal arts colleges around. My wife and I were also glad that even though she would be living on campus, the school was just across town. When that day came I was excited and exhilarated by the sight of the campus. I loved my own college experience and the sight of a college campus always thrills me. That first week, though, it hit me. Even though she was only across town, she would not be coming back – not like before. The little girl was growing up and out. 

I remembered the first time our daughter walked all the way to our next door neighbor’s house to play with her best friend. I stood on the front porch and watched, unbeknownst to her, making sure she made it safely – it was a thrilling accomplishment for both toddler and parent. Now she was making an even greater trek toward adulthood. I spent that week going through lots and lots of photo albums and putting together a PowerPoint of all the events in my daughter’s life. I had to do something to get out of my funk.

Now my wife and I are so thrilled and proud to have watched our daughter walk across the stage to receive her Bachelor of Arts Degree from Birmingham-Southern College. It is yet another milestone in a life that is remarkably unfolding.  It will be a challenging and exciting time for our daughter; it will be a challenging time for us as we face the empty nest.

Insights from Parenting

Parenthood may not be for everyone, but I would have missed so much if I had not become a father. One of the biggest insights for me came when my daughter was a toddler. I was out in the backyard where I had been working all day building a fence. Toward the end of the day, I was hot, sweaty and tired, but still consumed by the task of sawing 4 x 4s, digging post holes, pouring cement, etc. My daughter came out the back door to tell me that Mom said supper was ready and I had to come in. When I looked up at her, the evening sun caught her blonde hair as she was carefully making her way down the back steps (my daughter is like I was – blond-headed as a toddler, then she turned brunette by the time she finished high school). The sight of her filled me with the light of joy and love. In that same instant I realized for the first time that that must have been the same way my own father had looked at me. It was as though I were the giver and the recipient in the very same moment.

Other Things I Realized by Being a Parent

• Childhood is but an instant. My own childhood seemed immense, mythic, a huge chunk of my life, but to my parents it must have just been an all too short segment in their lives together, one of the many things they did together.
• I never really realized how much my parents must have prayed for us, but when I look now with the eyes of a parent, I realize that you do everything you possibly can and then offer constant prayers as your child faces each stage in life.
• Biggest lesson if you didn’t already know, life is not about you.

The Clay is All Dry Now

Even though we want our kids to grow up, we treasure them so that sometimes they have to tell us how old they are. I will never forget the day my daughter and I were going somewhere, about to cross the street. I took her hand before we crossed. She let go and pushed my hand aside, saying something like, “I can cross by myself, Dad.” Ouch, another step away, but it was a healthy step.  A couple of years ago, my daughter, then 20, was preparing to go down to the beach for a vacation with one of her friends. My wife was reminding her of all the things she needed to do and watch for, and to remember to call, etc. My daughter said, “Mom, the time of clay is over – I’m all dry now.”

Marriage and parenthood are the two hardest jobs in the world, but by far the most rewarding. I wouldn’t trade my experience for anything.

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A Boy and His Dog

“I love my dog. I love all my dogs. Every dog I ever had, I still love ‘em. And in my life, believe me, I have had me a bunch of damn dogs. Because you keep getting’ a new one, don’t ya? It’s true. As life goes on, you keep getting’ one new dog after another. That’s the whole secret of life. Life is a series of dogs.”

                                                                           ~ George Carlin


Maybe I should have titled this, "A Dog and Her Boy." For most of my life there has been a dog in my life. Right now there are four. There is Martha, my daughter’s dog whom we adopted from the pound when my daughter was six years old. Martha is a cute wire-hair terrier mix whom we soon discovered was hearing impaired. Daisy is a yellow lab mix who showed up at our doorstep 11 years ago. We could never find her owner, so she stayed. Then there is Mike, a cute little black and tan “Heinz 57” variety, whom my wife rescued about five years ago, and Felix, a little Chihuahua/rat terrier mix who was wandering the streets before hopping into my wife’s car one day. We could never find her owner either, so… we now have a pack.

A Litany of Dogs

Growing up, we always had a family dog. As a toddler, I pleaded with my parents to let me keep a little black and white hound puppy that had been dropped off at the city dump. Back in those days, everyone in our small town had to carry their own garbage to the dump. One Saturday, while accompanying my Dad on his weekly garbage run, we found the pup sitting quietly near a refuse heap. My Dad dubbed her, “Pooch.” My mother admitted that she was the cutest little pup she had ever seen. Then there was Brownie. After that was Smokey, a quiet noble shepherd mix who died too young of distemper. Later there was Trixie, an almost pure bred collie who was companion, playmate, and protector for me and my siblings for a good part of my childhood. She is the one you see pictured here with me as a lad. (More about Trixie in a moment) When I was in high school, there was Prince, son of Trixie. Then there was Chanet, part french bulldog, part boxer (she also died too young). Later came Missy, a collie mix rescued by my little brother. Missy went jogging with him every day until he joined the Marines then she welcomed him home on every furlough. There was even dog folklore in our house. My older brother and my parents told stories of Snooks, who was before my time but who accompanied my brother from infancy to school age.

When my wife and I met 27 years ago, Pete and Dolly were her canine companions. Pete was a shepherd mix who had been my wife's pet for many years, through thick and thin. She had to be put down the day before our daughter was born. Dolly was a chow/wolf mix who hated strangers, but was a jolly dancer at home with us. She reminded me of an Ewok from Star Wars.

Some Stand Out

All of our dogs have brought rich rewards into our lives, and some stand out more than others (you may have read my tribute to the remarkable Mr. Higgins, who departed this life about ten years ago). When I was a child, Trixie was the one who stood out above all the others. We lived out in the country at that time. Trixie had the run of the yard, the woods, and the neighbor’s pasture. She was very bright and she knew how to play and interact with us kids. She was as much a family member as a dog can get. We played in the yard and ran with her through the woods on many a futile rabbit or squirrel chase. That dog accompanied us on all of our usual haunts: hiking in the woods, walking down to the road to the fish pond near the old train depot, or going up the road to the country store. Once or twice, she followed us to school, which was against the rule, as the nursery rhyme says.

One summer morning, my younger brother and sister and I decided to go down through the woods to the creek bank to play, as we often did. Trixie trotted along with us as usual. She took the lead as we jaunted merrily along the path through the woods. Suddenly Trixie stopped right in the path. We couldn’t understand what had come over her, but we were anxious to get to the creek. When we tried to pass her, she turned sideways in the path and gave a low growl. She would not let us pass. This was bizarre behavior, we thought, until we looked ahead. Right there stretched along the path in the woods lay a huge snake - a water moccasin! YIKES! We all turned on our heels and fled back up the hill, out of the woods, and safely to our back door step. Of course there were rounds of cheers and hugs for Trixie, our faithful guardian. And of course, we had to go and tell our parents all about our harrowing adventure.

Trixie was not my dog, per se. She was the family dog, and she gave her attention to all of us. I was always proud of Trixie. I found joy and comfort by having her around whenever I went outside. What is remarkable to me, as I look back on these old photos, is that I have always been camera shy - I do not like having my picture taken. I well remember, however, the day these shots were taken. I had a box camera that my uncle had given me for Christmas one year. I remember asking my brother to take a picture of me with Trixie. Looking back, I find it amazing that I would have requested to have my own picture taken. It must say something about the importance I placed upon the remarkable dog who was part of my childhood. Here's to all the dogs who have enriched the lives of people everywhere! If you have a dog story, feel free to leave a comment.

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