Injured
Friend
Billie, the poodle, is not only the office dog, but he also likes to ride along with me on days when I am making sales calls or doing other business. When I go to the home office, he comes along and waits patiently on the couch, watching out the window. He can keep track of the goings on outside while waiting for me to quit doing whatever I am doing on the computer. He knows if he waits long enough, I will eventually go do something more exciting than sit at my desk.
When we leave on a trip to town or a business call, there is a routine. I first take off his electronic collar which causes great excitement. When the collar comes off, he knows for sure that we are going to go do something fun. He happily loads up and we drive past the limit of his control collar. It does not matter if his collar is on or off, there is a line he will not cross. After reaching this point in the driveway, I let him out to run. Like a little kid, there are a couple of things that need to be taken care
of before a road trip. A good run also takes off the edge of excitement, making traveling more tolerable. At the end of the driveway, he again loads up and we are off.
One day last week, Billie needed to go to the vet for his routine shots and examination. I took him with me as I also needed to see a couple of people. The trip was rather uneventful until we arrived back home. The homecoming routine is just the opposite of the leaving series of events. When we get home, Billie gets to get out and run down to the house, checking all the smells along the way and relieving pent up energy. This day, when he jumped out of the truck, he immediately got on the trail of a deer. She was sleeping in the tall grass just over the hill a short distance off the driveway. Before I could stop him, he was off. I saw him
disappear over the hill and heard him cry as the deer ran bounding across the hay field. I ran to where Billie was crying and saw him standing with one front leg off the ground. Not knowing if
the deer had stomped him, he tripped in a hole, or he had been stung by something, I helped him back to the truck. His ankle was already swelling when I lifted him into the vehicle. I thought his leg was probably broken.
Back at the house, I explained to my wife what had happened. We can go for a year without seeing the veterinarian or we can see her twice in one day. After an examination and x-ray, the doctor determined the injury was just a severe sprain rather than a break. My wife and I were greatly re-
lieved. We could only imagine having a rambunctious dog thumping around with a cast on his leg for a month. With some pain killers and anti-inflammatory drugs, we headed for home again. This trip, he did not get to run down the driveway, which he found unusual and hard to understand. He was sure there was a deer nearby that needed to be chased. Billie is still sore and uses his injured leg sparingly. It is hard to watch an injured friend work at getting around, but he is doing better. He will soon be back to chasing squirrels from the front seat of the truck and guarding his domain from the office couch.
Pocket Doors, Priests, and Pasta
I smiled when Melissa closed her closet door after finding the garment she sought. I remembered what had led to the decision to use that type of closet door.
Several years ago, when we were remodeling our house, I went to visit our daughter Annie, in Winona. I taught her how to make lasagna. I made one pan as an example to show and guide her while she made a pan of her own. It was some wonderful fatherdaughter time spent in her kitchen.
Annie was concerned about the amount of time it was taking. I told her how important it is to take your time and do it right— no shortcuts, don’t rush it. “Always make your lasagna with love, and people will love it.”
We baked and then ate Annie’s lasagna for dinner at 10:30 or so in the evening. It was delicious and well worth the wait. She did an excellent job! I was proud of her and told her so. We could have put my lasagna in the freezer for another day, but instead we took my pan of unbaked lasagna with baking directions to the Cathedral of the Sacred Heart in Winona to give it to the priests. Father Jonathan answered the door, thanking us for the gift. He seemed very appreciative, and that made us feel good.
Back at home, I was framing Melissa’s closet in the master bedroom. As usual, I second-guessed my plan. I had intended to use a standard door on Melissa’s closet, and had already purchased the door. However, changing to a pocket
door would give us much better use of the wall space outside her closet.
The problem was that the 28-inch pocket door must be installed before hanging the drywall. (A standard door only requires an opening to install the door later.) I did not have one.
Changing to the pocket door would require a trip to Duluth, (a 130-mile round trip) consuming most of the day. If I use a standard door, I could keep working...but every time that door swings into wasted wall space that had to be left available for the door to open, I would curse myself for not taking the time to get the pocket door.
Ugh! I was scratching my head, frustrated over what to do. I wanted to pull my hair out, scream, and run away, but I no longer had enough hair! Screaming never helps; it just causes the dog to think I need therapy. On top of this, I had
a big hole in my tennis shoe. Running away meant running through the yard; it was wintertime, and I would get snow in my shoe. “Why didn’t I consider a pocket door before?” My anguish was disrupted when the phone rang. The call was from area code 507.
The day before, I had called Betty at Winona Agency with an insurance question. She was going to get the answer and call me back. It was a good thing she called at this moment, as I needed a break from this back-and-forth indecisiveness that tormented me.
I answered the call, “Hello, this is Tom.” Much to my surprise, Betty didn’t sound like Betty.
“Hello, Tom. This is Monsignor Colletti, from Winona.” He called to thank me again for the lasagna and to let me know there was too much food for just the two priests living in their
house. “I’ve been waiting, and we had enough priests together to bake your lasagna.” On Christmas Eve, they had six priests and the bishop all together for dinner.
Monsignor Colletti said, “You made my night easy. All I had to do was put it in the oven, get the salad and some veggies, and we had a wonderful meal to enjoy. Everyone loved it.” He asked me to thank Annie and Melissa as well and pass along his wishes for a happy and blessed New Year to my family. I thanked him for his call and his kind words and wished him a happy New Year, as well.
Wow! Six priests AND the bishop all liked my lasagna? I’ve had some very nice compliments on my cooking before, but certainly no higher praise than this! I felt giddy and his call really, really made my day!
“Always make your lasagna with love,
