The Brod Abode ~~ Where life's a hoot!

Is anyone sick to death of the name calling and the blame game? It gathers speed each and every day and it almost makes my head swim. On Christmas Eve and Christmas Day the family sat around and talked about different "religions" and political parties. Frankly I think the various religions, for the most part, are more a hinderance than an actual help. We all have preconceived notions of what each might possibly mean and when I tell people I am now a southern Baptist rattlesnakes and loony tunes light up their eyes and I quickly explain I don't really believe in all the hoopla over "what religion are we." I grew up without any affiliation at all. And I was fine. And becoming a Baptist with my husband didn't make me believe one iota different. When our youngest son was married he was married in the Catholic church. Now the precious deacon who performed the ceremony is one of the most awesome men I have ever heard speak. Half of the church, for the most part, w...

Just this side of Heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to The Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine and our friends are warm and comfortable. All the animals who have been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content except for one small thing: they miss someone very special, someone who was left behind. They all run and play together but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; his eager body begins to quiver. Suddenly, he breaks from the group, flying over the green grass faster and faster. You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally mee...

that one day would be the last time. For someone. For someplace. For you. What would we do differently? And would it ever make a difference in our lives or the lives of our loved ones and others? I think perhaps we think it would make a difference in a desperate attempt to understand the whys and to salve the hurt. Or the first time would also be the last. I think we would linger try to draw as much from the moment as we possibly could. To savor it. To hang on to that one last time. If we knew. Yesterday we lost a beloved member of our small little family. Our beautiful, perfect Challenger Reveille (Chucky). Our third greyhound rescue. He was so sweet, so even tempered, so loving. He was a mama's boy the foster parents said. And he was. We bonded immediately. I was still trying to recover from the loss of our first rescue Holly Rae who had cancer and we had to let her go 3 months before. In that space of time we also adopted a sweet, elderly little lady Emma Rose. Emma was...