Monday, Again - TeleCare - Volunteerism

Monday seems to come around far to soon, a reminder another week of life has past incredibly at the speed of light.

Today was my volunteer day to work TeleCare, a free daily morning phone call to subscribers. Two friends and I formed this group in response to an incident my husband regaled to me.

He delivered Senior Meals on Wheels for several years. In the course of his route he entered senior citizens' homes to deliver the meals. Some wanted the meals in their refrigerator or freezer for later consumption.

One day he entered an apartment to find the recipient on the floor, having fallen several hours earlier. He called 911 for emergency help and stayed until their arrival. During the interlude the lady told him, this was not the first time she had fallen; the last time she fell, it was two days before someone found her.

He planted this seed in our minds. We investigated what volunteers could do and organized TeleCare, loosely organized group of volunteers who work mornings 365 days a year (including holidays) to call those who are fearful of living alone. There is no age limit, but the clientele generally is above the age of 60. We have gentlemen, ladies, and married couples.

Once a year we have a light luncheon for our clientele, so they meet the volunteers with whom they've been talking. Long-time clients look forward to this yearly event.

Some volunteers are brief and there are some who chat a bit longer. The sound of a human voice is reassuring to a lonely person who never hears the phone ring. I'm on the chatty side.

TeleCare is only one tool toward helping persons live longer, independently in their homes.

Invariably, the clients cheer me up more than I probably do for them.

Our small town would be lost without volunteers, such as our Fire (Department) and Police (Department) auxiliaries, hospital and nursing home auxiliaries, churches whose members unselfishly work in our communities, and organizations like Veterans of Foreign Wars, Rotary Club, Food Pantry, Library Friends, and the unsung heroes on every block - neighbors.

There is a nationally sponsored event once a year, called Make A Difference Day. In our town we have many people who make a difference every day--and they are mostly past 50 years of age themselves.

Luckie knows we have persons who check on pets and plants alone at home, while their owners are hospitalized, tending family emergencies, shopping or simply enjoying a rare vacation! Further, she is grateful for the many volunteers who work for the Humane Society and other animal shelters!

On a different note, one of the blogs I read is having a 100th Post Giveaway. If you are interested , please check out Just Sweet Enough .

Digital Deliberations - One benefits Luckie's shelter home

Last Friday my best friend (BF) called me to visit her and wipe a desktop hard drive clean in exchange for a fried fish dinner. My husband was included in the invite, but not Luckie.

My BFs have multiple cats and presently only one dog. Over the nearly thirty years I've known them, they have only had one pure breed dog. However, I've lost count of the dogs and cats they've adopted, mostly strays, but some shelter animals, too.

The old computer was going to a local computer club which refurbishes them and gives them to the Humane Society or Salvation Army, whichever the donor chooses. Since BF selected the Humane Society, I was overjoyed to help the cause. It seems the economic downturn has spike sales of used computers, especially at these two charitable organizations.

I plan to add a box full of parts I've collected and no longer need in building or repairing (0ccasionally). I figured my helping prepare her unit for resale in the Humane Society's shop, in some small way may return the joy Luckie has brought into our lives.

The last few days a Silver Sneakers exercise friend tried to exorcise her desktop which she maintained was possessed by a demon. After several phone calls with e-mails with suggestions, and little improvement, I read the signs of having the Conficter worm which has been tormenting the computer world. I sent her a site to read about it and went fishing...hmm...better relabel that a windy boat ride on area lake.

Two phone messages were waiting for me, when I returned home: Send her the patches because she could not download them, nor access Microsoft website, two signs of the dastardly worm. I have not heard the end of this saga as of tonight. Stay tuned for the rest of the story.

Luckie's nickname: Meatloaf

One comment requested I regale the tale how Luckie acquired her nickname, MEATLOAF.

Luckie's life before becoming a shelter dog is mostly unknown: she had a least two litters of puppies, one of which accompanied her to the shelter; she was approximately 2.5 years old; she had been abused by a man, according to the woman surrendering her and her litter to the shelter. I think she may have run loose, hunting, perhaps a need to provide for her litters.

She was somewhat underweight when we brought her home, but that soon was remedied!

One day when I was particularly busy, I put half a frozen aluminum-wrapped meatloaf on the kitchen counter to thaw for supper. My husband and I went somewhere for only a brief period of time and returned. I did not turn my attention to preparing supper until some time later.

When I went to the kitchen to reheat the meatloaf, there was nary a piece of aluminum foil, much less meatloaf to be found!

We had to go out for supper. Either my husband is in cahoots with the dog, as he dislikes meatloaf from his Navy days, or local restaurants want more of our business.

A friend tabbed her MEATLOAF, and she responds---maybe a guilty conscience?

Since this early event in her career with us, we have found she is the worst sneaky food snitch we've ever had. When we leave home we put loaves of bread at least six feet high, clear all counters, tables, and ensure the pantry doors are closed, including where her dog treats are stored. Nothing happens when one of us is home, and that may be a clue.

If we forget or overlook something, we pay. Half loaves of bread including wrapper have regularly disappeared. She ate a whole package of diet Russell Stover chocolate candy (fortunately with no ill effects).

She empties wastebaskets and unlatched garbage bins. She once emptied a trashcan of coffee grinds and filters, slinging the wet filters with grinds everywhere, cabinets, chairs and floor of one room. She must have had a great time.

We can live with the snitching, but I draw the line to her hunting skills of chipmunks and rabbits, especially her bringing them in the house to share with us.

Luckie and all our dogs

Having married late in life, and only once, my husband and I led a 10-year nomadic military life, where we observed families coping, or not, with normal family responsibilities. I also had health issues not conducive to healthy birth. With this brief description of our background we turned to dogs for extended family.

Our 40+ years of marriage include three female German Shepherds, all registered and spayed, all dearly loved, and much grieved when the end of life good byes were needed. Our first black and tan Shepherd puppy, Snoopy (but female) was European with European registration, small in stature, and sweet in temperament. Her life was a fun-filled nearly 11 years. There are many humorous stories related to her as she was our "military child."

Perhaps these stories will be regaled another time.

We obtained our second black and tan Shepherd puppy, Cassie, in Missouri. Belatedly, we came to believe this was possibly a "puppy mill" and AKC papers contained false information. We still loved her, but I made the worst mistake of my life by protection training her, also with an unlicensed backyard trainer. Upon realizing the mistake, I quit the training but always had to be extremely careful with her. However, she had severe hip dysplasia and relieving her of crying 24/7 at seven years was easiest of all goodbyes.

We waited a few months and obtained Gabby, a sable Shepherd puppy in Arkansas, after researching blood lines. She was our Romaine lettuce, broccoli stalk eater. She gave us much joy for nearly 13 years. Parting was sweet sorrow.

By now we were older (in our 60s), had our own infirmities, and figured our dog days were over, despite the fact I kept a picture of Gabby by my computer for three years (and still do). My husband and friends knew I was in perpetual mourning.

One day, my dear friend, a newspaper employee, called to say a photo of a 2.5 year old small mixed breed dog with German Shepherd looks, weighing only 35 lbs had been submitted by the Humane Society. I pleaded with my husband to look at her. It was love at first sight, and our first adoption! We are now sold on shelter adoptions, where dogs are tested for adaptability. I did not have the joy of a puppy, but at my age I was, and am, just happy to hear four little feet running through the house and enjoy a dog's natural forgiveness and love for their owners' inadequacies.

Luckie answers our recorder as "Luckie, the hound from the pound."



Next post: How Luckie got her name and maybe a picture