Posted by (+2247) 10 years ago
I have been struggling with understanding an issue, so I might as well ask the question and see if anyone else has the answer. Is the reason that we are subjected to judgment and criticism in the guise of being helpful because Jobie and I are different? For those that don't know, my understanding is that bulls are frequently destroyed by the time they reach 5 years of age because they are deemed to be "mean" (feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but that's what many have told me). Jobie is now 5 1/2 and still a "love". From the time Jobie was a baby, people have given us advice. I was told that I needed to assert my superiority in order to control him--confess I wasn't confident I was superior, so I chose to love him instead and I'm not displeased with the way he's turned out. I was told that he must be castrated--never did because I didn't see that his "intact equipment" was an issue and it never has been (Jobie prefers people to bovines--has turned and walked away from some of the latter that were making "moony eyes" at him even though I thought they were pretty cute ones.) I was told he'd be "mean" by the time he was a year old--then by the time he was two, and finally was warned that he might roll over on me when I used him as a pillow (never has and even the little kittens feel safe curled up next to him). I've been told that I have an "unnatural relationship" with a bull--no doubt, if he socialized with cattle, they would tell him he had an "unnatural relationship" with a human.
Is it so wrong to be different or should we, instead, be focusing on the positive outcomes from those precise differences? There are many people that have received a benefit because Jobie is the way he is (for which I am no doubt to blame). Is that such a bad thing?
A little over 25 years ago, when I worked for Federal Highways in Helena, I was fortunate enough to go on a week long tour of the state with two engineers (one from the feds and one from MDT). They taught me a great deal about road construction and safety issues. I don't know if I taught them much about accounting, but I did teach them the joys of walking in the rain and stomping in puddles. We remained friends over the years--Three Musketeers, if you will--despite some people criticizing our friendship for varying reasons. We had many things in common (all being veterans--although I went in at the end of the Viet Nam era and they were both sent to Nam) and even more differences which we used to expand our respective perspectives on life. Jim ended up with a disease from exposure to Agent Orange. I can't recall that he ever criticized our government for not taking responsibility. Instead, he said how glad he was MDT provided good health coverage. I can't recall that he ever criticized his family for not being typed as bone marrow donors. Instead, he said how proud he was that he'd beat the odds for over 5 years. When word came that the odds were beating him, I arranged for a reunion. Charles came from Arkansas and picked me up in Cheyenne. Together, with my little dog, we went to see Jim in Helena. He had been put in a rest home due to the side effects of his medications (pain because his skin was literally blistering up and coming off on his arms), but there was no problem in securing his release to go to a restaurant. I called to ask his family if there were restrictions on what he could eat and was told, "No, he'd dying. It doesn't matter. Let him enjoy whatever." Before leaving Helena, I gave him a big hug and, in what was probably one of the saddest moments of my life, he thanked me. Most people were afraid to touch him. He died less than a month later and I still miss him although it's been 14 years. As for the other Musketeer, he sent me money to upgrade my 9 year old computer so that I could finish Jobie's book. He said he believed in it and in me and he didn't want the money back, just a copy of the book. He went out to work one morning early this year and was killed in an accident. He never got a copy of the book because it wasn't yet published, but we included him in every copy because he's one of the people it is dedicated to. The truth is, we're all dying and none of us knows how long we have. Why not spread more joy and less judgment?
So, while Richard and crew are out snatching goodies from shopper's carts and replacing them with melba toast, celery, and sparkling water (being a holiday, after all), Jobie and I will be out giving hugs and kisses (Jobie specializing in that) and wishing everyone the happiest holiday they can imagine. There is too little love and too much judgment in the world. Perhaps, someday, there will be a few new Musketeers to join our crew. As for us, we'll be looking for puddles to stomp in and remembering all those that have gone before. Maybe I'll even figure out how to whip up a batch of tapioca pudding in memory of my Mom (Jobie's Grandma) because she loved it so (despite the fact it probably wasn't good for her because she battled weight issues all her life)!
Happy Thanksgiving to All!
Karen & Jobie

A little over 25 years ago, when I worked for Federal Highways in Helena, I was fortunate enough to go on a week long tour of the state with two engineers (one from the feds and one from MDT). They taught me a great deal about road construction and safety issues. I don't know if I taught them much about accounting, but I did teach them the joys of walking in the rain and stomping in puddles. We remained friends over the years--Three Musketeers, if you will--despite some people criticizing our friendship for varying reasons. We had many things in common (all being veterans--although I went in at the end of the Viet Nam era and they were both sent to Nam) and even more differences which we used to expand our respective perspectives on life. Jim ended up with a disease from exposure to Agent Orange. I can't recall that he ever criticized our government for not taking responsibility. Instead, he said how glad he was MDT provided good health coverage. I can't recall that he ever criticized his family for not being typed as bone marrow donors. Instead, he said how proud he was that he'd beat the odds for over 5 years. When word came that the odds were beating him, I arranged for a reunion. Charles came from Arkansas and picked me up in Cheyenne. Together, with my little dog, we went to see Jim in Helena. He had been put in a rest home due to the side effects of his medications (pain because his skin was literally blistering up and coming off on his arms), but there was no problem in securing his release to go to a restaurant. I called to ask his family if there were restrictions on what he could eat and was told, "No, he'd dying. It doesn't matter. Let him enjoy whatever." Before leaving Helena, I gave him a big hug and, in what was probably one of the saddest moments of my life, he thanked me. Most people were afraid to touch him. He died less than a month later and I still miss him although it's been 14 years. As for the other Musketeer, he sent me money to upgrade my 9 year old computer so that I could finish Jobie's book. He said he believed in it and in me and he didn't want the money back, just a copy of the book. He went out to work one morning early this year and was killed in an accident. He never got a copy of the book because it wasn't yet published, but we included him in every copy because he's one of the people it is dedicated to. The truth is, we're all dying and none of us knows how long we have. Why not spread more joy and less judgment?
So, while Richard and crew are out snatching goodies from shopper's carts and replacing them with melba toast, celery, and sparkling water (being a holiday, after all), Jobie and I will be out giving hugs and kisses (Jobie specializing in that) and wishing everyone the happiest holiday they can imagine. There is too little love and too much judgment in the world. Perhaps, someday, there will be a few new Musketeers to join our crew. As for us, we'll be looking for puddles to stomp in and remembering all those that have gone before. Maybe I'll even figure out how to whip up a batch of tapioca pudding in memory of my Mom (Jobie's Grandma) because she loved it so (despite the fact it probably wasn't good for her because she battled weight issues all her life)!
Happy Thanksgiving to All!

Karen & Jobie