Here’s a link to the first chapter of the book I just finished reading “The Dog That Talked To God” by Jim Kraus
http://www.abingdonpress.com/forms/displayImage.aspx?pcid=2552574
And here is the review I posted on Amazon.
Category: Uncategorized
Photo of our dogs
This photo captures how I see Hobie every day. I love him so.
Here is a picture of our newest family member, Charlie Brown!
A letter to my great-niece
Dearest Bianca,
I will never forget the day you were born. I was dealing with an oil tank leak, men in hazmat suits with testing equipment and loose talk about “if there’s just one dead fish” (in the lake, I mean) and the uncertainty of just whether or not insurance would cover all of this. If a bridge were available, I was thinking, I might just take that jump. It was the day from hell, and then, I heard a little “bleeep” on my iPhone, buried somewhere in the depths of my Brighton pocketbook (your mom would like that), having shoved it down, down, down in the hopes that maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t have to use it one more time today. Who would be sending me a text message at 4:30 on a Friday, on “The Friday From Hell, 2012”? Why, your mother, of course, because… well… [catch in my throat] I asked her to tell me when you were born. Having forgotten all of my sanity at some point in the middle of the night during the wee-est hours of March 16, 2012, I plumb forgot the c-section was scheduled for that morning. What a great way to end the day, with my brother’s 2nd granddaughter being born! I know he’s smiling down from heaven and watching over you and your big sister and your Mommy at all times. He’s watching over all of us all the time, and he loves you so much. Never forget that your grand-dad loves you, with all his heart and soul. You also happen to be born the day before St. Patrick’s Day, and you ARE part Irish, in case you ever want to know, your great-great grandmother Marguerite Walsh Mueller’s parents were born in Tipperary, Ireland. So anyway, you were born the day before St. Patrick’s Day, my friend Mary’s birthday. Mary was 100% Irish and born on the day. Well, she, too is up there smiling down from heaven, if there is such a thing, and chuckling to herself in her own Irish-dimpled way, that you would be the one to cover St. Patty’s Day celebrations from now on, and your middle name happens to be Mary (after your great-grandmother, we assume). By the way, the insurance company called: we’re covered. I don’t even know you yet, but love you already.
Love,
Aunty
Puppy!!!
Oh my Dog!! I either have forgotten how much work goes into raising a puppy, or I never had one challenge me quite like this before. I do remember Hobie, who came to us at 4 months of age, would challenge me. One time, he backed me into a corner in the living room barking, and barking, and charging at me. That lasted about 30 seconds, as I quickly decided then and there that I had to take charge. I grabbed hold of his collar under his chin area and held on until he stopped barking and trying to wriggle free. Hobie was a little scary back then, but he never tried that again. He would tear my sweatshirt sleeves to smithereens. He would tear anything and everything to smithereens, now that I think about it. One day, I came home to find an entire box of tissues, strewn about the house in teeny-tiny little pieces. He never ate anything, just tore it up, as if to “kill” it. Shoes, how many shoes lost their lives to the jaws of Hobie? Another time, I came home from work, and Hobie had torn up an entire hard-cover book that we had borrowed from somebody. Thankfully, it was a new release, so I was able to get to the store and get a replacement. He tore that book, hard cover and all, into a zillion teeny-tiny pieces. He didn’t eat any of it, just tore it up. And another time, I came home from work, and he was inside, barking and barking. When I went into the house, he kept barking and barking. Come to find out, he had knocked over a lamp (probably chasing a cat) and the lamp had stayed on. The lightbulb rested against the carpet and burned a hole in the rug and was starting to burn the hardwood floor underneath. There were no flames, just a lot of heat. If I had worked an extra hour or half hour that day, who knows what would have happened. Ok, crate-training was not popular 12 years ago, and I’ve never used crates with any of my 7 dogs — but this WOULD be a good argument for crate training.
Hector, on the other hand, who we had from age 7 or 8 weeks — I can barely remember his puppyhood, except that he was adorable and wonderful. It seemed to me he was immediately housebroken and he just learned everything from Hobie who was a year old by then. I quite honestly have been wracking my brain, and I can’t think of one story where Hector caused any puppy trouble. He was the best dog in the whole world, from day one, and I’m not just saying that out of respect for the dead. He truly was a one-of-a-kind dog.
Years earlier, Timba came to me fully trained and at an adolescent age of about a year old, more or less. She was the most well-behaved, loyal beast I’ve ever known in my entire life. I didn’t have possession of her as a puppy, but I knew her since she was 8 weeks old. Once I acquired Timba as payment of an $800 debt owed by a dear friend who simply couldn’t pay me back (“How ’bout if I take Timba instead?” I offered, and he agreed — I got the better end of that deal.). She was, arguably, my best, best friend EVER, attached to me like glue, she went everywhere with me, and was so well behaved she was “like a person” — people said.
Onward and upward! We introduce Charlie Brown. As I write this, I have just spent the last FOUR HOURS in a futile attempt to burn off this puppy’s energy (he’s sleeping now at the foot of the desk. I’m exhausted. This goes on every morning, and then I still have to go to work!). He’s 12 weeks old (yesterday) and what a handful! He not only picks up anything and everything in his mouth, but he EATS and swallows it! Never had THAT problem before. He is not yet housebroken, but we are 65% there. Each day gets a little better. He had been somehow reverse housebroken, would be outside for ages and then come indoors and pee and poop on the paper in the kitchen. That was bad enough, but then Daddy got the brilliant idea to get mad at him whenever he did his business in the kitchen on the paper. Rather than getting the hint that he’s supposed to go outside, Charlie Brown now pees on the carpeting instead of the hard kitchen floor with newspaper. ARGH!! He is scared to death of the collar and leash, or anything I try to do with my hands, touching his head or neck area. I had “vowed” that my next dog was going to let me trim his nails, I seriously doubt that’s gonna happen! He needs to chew, chew, chew incessantly. I’ve bought lots of toys and chewy treats — he bores of them rather easily. Since he isn’t housebroken, and will eat anything within reach, I can’t leave him at home alone (even with Hobie) so I take him everywhere. Be careful what you wish for!
Charlie was neutered at about 7 weeks. I’ve heard good and bad opinions about this. My other two dogs were never neutered (I also vowed I’d never do THAT again — talk about being “shunned” by the general dog-loving public! And my dogs are more well-behaved than most neutered dogs I’ve met over the last 12 years, but that’s another story!). So, Charlie is neutered, then why, oh why, Mr. Dog, does he hump my leg, and Hobie? My other dogs, intact their whole lives, and shunned for it, never humped ANYTHING or ANYONE!!! Hey, at least I’ll be able to take Charlie to dog parks and doggie daycare ha ha ha. Humans sure are funny.
But I wax negative. It’s not all bad, honestly, Charlie Brown is the cutest little bugger I’ve seen in a long while. He’s almost perfect. Right now, he’s sound asleep and I could just eat him up he’s so adorable. He rides in the car like he has been doing it his entire life. He’s getting pretty good about walking on-leash — we spent 10 minutes on leash today, walking with Hobie. Charlie knows sit, lie down and stay. He gets along great with Hobie and the cats (although Newman is still a little scared).
Hobie and Charlie, sleeping, ahhhh.
Hobie, now 12 years old… well, I am just so proud of Hobie. This has disrupted our lives, and I feel bad sometimes. I had decided that I was going to enjoy my time with just one dog, again. Hobie and I had been together for about 5 or 6 months between Timba’s death and the arrival of Hector back in the fall of 2001. When Hector died so suddenly last fall, I decided I would enjoy some alone time with Hobie again. We had such a wonderful time these last few months, walking, going places, hanging with the cats, we had a perfect little routine going. Then, I saw this little dog on the internet, on Facebook, darn he was cute. What the heck? I’ll fill out an application, never in a million years thinking we’d actually get the dog! And here we are, just five months after Hector died, and we’ve got two dogs again. Hobie, he is the perfect gentleman through all of this. Sure, he snapped at the little bugger a couple times; nothing major just an “I’ll show you who’s boss” type of thing. Now, the puppy can climb all over him, hump him, sit on his head, and eat food nearby and Hobie tolerates it all. They shared two perfect car rides together so far, they love to cuddle and snuggle together, and we’ve only had Charlie in our pack for just over a week. As I write this, I remember… Timba put up with Hobie in the very same way! Timba was 17 when we got Hobie, and they lived together for a year. She helped train him. Hobie would climb and jump on her: “Let’s play!” I had to carry Timba up and down stairs, help her out doorways, she was my best friend and I owed her that much, and so much more. Hobie has turned out to be almost as well-behaved as Timba. Almost. Now it’s his turn to lie there and roll his eyes and grunt in protest when Charlie yells “Let’s play!” in full play-bow. I dread the time I will have to carry Hobie up, down, and out. I know it’s coming. I try to make him walk and use the stairs as often as possible, putting off the inevitable. My head was much less emotional when I was in my 20s and 30s, raising Timba. I just did it, and didn’t think. Now, I think, I analyze, I worry, and I get emotional. There has been a lot of death of pets, dear friends and family over these last 10 years — you can’t help but think about it in relation to your aging dog. I wish I was still in that 20-30 “head” when”just do it” was the motto and I didn’t think or feel “bad” like I do now. I worry that I have ruined Hobie’s and Newman’s lives with this little terrorist puppy! But then, one of them will come around and snuggle with him and I think, “Ah, it’ll be ok.”
Hobie, 12 years, and Charlie 12 weeks.
Charlie, snoozing in the car
Ten days in, and it’s going as one might expect. I had just forgotten how much having a little puppy means sleep deprivation, constant activity — I mean, when exactly was the last time I sat down?
It’s a new puppy, Charlie Brown!
What can Brown do for you?!
It’s been just 5 months, almost to the day, since we lost our dear, beloved hound dog, Hector and I never in a million years thought we’d add another pooch to our family so soon, but… yesterday I took the afternoon off and drove to New Hampshire and picked up an 11-week-old collie/hound mix named Charlie Brown! He is pretty cool, just the right energy for us, and I think things are going to work out well. There have been three small “spats” with Hobie — totally my fault, dumb human leaving food and toys where they should not be. And the cats are a little wary, but thankfully he doesn’t “charge” them or chase them like Hector did, so I’m sure they’ll be fine. In fact, as I write, both dogs are at my feet and one cat has sidled up under the desk and is lying next to Hobie and keeping a watchful eye on Charlie who is on the other side of the desk!
Although he’s just 11 weeks of age, Charlie was rescued from near death, twice. His mama dog and her litter of 8 puppies was found in an abandoned house which was about to be bulldozed to the ground, in Tennessee. A well-meaning construction worker brought “Kate Plus 8” to a shelter. As we know, the majority of shelters in TN are high-kill and so the entire family had run out of time. There are several rescues here in New England that truck dogs from TN to the northeast, and I worked with one of those rescue organizations to get Charlie Brown. I never actually knew how rescue organizations work (even though I volunteered for Great Dane Rescue of NE) and this was a very interesting and eye-opening experience for us. I am proud to have finally adopted my very first rescue dog. I never knew what people meant when they asked “Is he a rescue?” and now that I do, I have to say “None of my previous dogs were [literally] rescues” Though I did “save” a couple from potentially bad situations, it is not the same. Very educational experience!
I just wanted to share our good news.
Hug your dog 🙂
K2
www.k2k9.com
www.ksmueller.com
My article in Cape Women Online "Weather Dogs" by K.S. Mueller
http://www.capewomenonline.com/2011_Issues/Issue2011_Holiday/Articles/WeatherDogs.html
Weather Dogs
A Visit to Fatima, Portugal
By K.S. Mueller
Part of our gig in the student travel industry is to organize, and often attend, the annual “Yuletide in (pick a city)” International Teacher Convention which is a perk offered to some of our employees, as long as we don’t mind taking a week away from our families between Christmas and New Year’s. Since I don’t have any kids, and my mother was in relatively good health for many years, I would attend the Yuletide Convention every holiday season for many years. Traveling in December takes a bit of getting used to. The days, particularly in places like England and Germany, are very short in the winter. The weather is gloomy. Stores and museums are closed. Pair that with jet-lag and the holiday rush and you have a decent recipe for seasonal depression. Nevertheless, both prior to and after each convention, I would summon the courage to extend my trip and do some personal sightseeing.
The year I turned 40, I sadly realized I was probably not going to have any kids. To fill the void, I decided I needed another dog. Hobie came into my life in May of 2000. At just five months old at the time, I dubbed him Millennium Dog, since he was born in January. I fell instantly and hopelessly in love with this dog – he was the child I never had.
Begrudgingly, I still booked my annual Yuletide trip at the end of 2000, and left my two dogs, Timba who was 17 at the time, and the newly-crowned leader of our pack, Hobie, at home with a friend who was nice enough to house and pet-sit. I left for Lisbon, Portugal on December 22, 2000, and quickly discovered that I, not my dogs, suffered from separation anxiety! It was gonna be a long, lonely fourteen days.
The advent of the digital camera was upon us, and I had taken a moment to take one shot of Hobie as he snoozed on the bedroom floor before I whisked off to Logan Airport, knowing nary a word of Portuguese and basically nothing about the history of Portugal. During the trip, I would consult that photo of Hobie too many times, to soothe my ever-growing heartache.
Our post-convention travels took us to two places that stand out in my mind. The first is Obidos, a very small town halfway down the west coast of Portugal, and very reminiscent of the Cape Cod National Seashore. The entire time leading up to our visit to Obidos, my friend and I kept repeating “Obidos!” because it sounded like “Hobie Dobe!” my nickname for Hobie.
The second memorable city was the very famous spiritual destination of Fatima. Imagine, visiting Fatima just two days after Christmas. It was incredible. We witnessed dozens of people making pilgrimages to the Marian Shrine, many of them crawling on their knees as a symbol of their devotion. The Marian Shrine is known for the Marian apparitions – when, in 1917, three peasant children claimed to have seen an apparition six times, and on July 13, 1917 the apparition divulged three secrets to the children.
While at Fatima, we visited several gift shops. It’s important to mention here that when I first adopted Hobie he had a deformed left ear, which later miraculously righted itself. In one of the gift shops at Fatima, just off the highway, I found a section of the store that contained cute little animal figurines that would change color when weather changed. I remembered having something like that as a kid, it was a weathervane that would be pink if it was going to rain, or blue when the weather was fair, or some such thing. I have always collected figurines of dogs, cats, and horses, and was feeling the separation from Hobie in particular that day, having then been away from him for about ten days, our longest separation ever. Of course, he was probably home, snoozing, oblivious to my heartache. And so, I thought, I’ll pick up a souvenir — a doggie figurine that predicts the weather. I carefully picked out one that looked almost exactly like Hobie. The tour bus was waiting for us outside and my companions were getting antsy, so I hurried to the cashier. When she picked up the Hobie figurine, it slipped out of her hand, and, as if in slow-mo, I saw it crashing onto the countertop, head-first. I heard my own voice saying “Nooooooo!” in slow-speed. I dove for the figurine, and saw to my horror that its left ear had broken off. Dejected, I just looked at it, clutching the two broken pieces in my hands, the dog itself in one hand, and a tiny piece of “ear” in the other. The cashier spoke no English. I spoke no Portuguese. Yet, somehow, we communicated. She managed to offer, “Go get another one, to replace.” I said, “I want THAT one!” (I had spent ages picking out “the” dog that looked just like Hobie-Dobe.) She somehow retorted with, “Keep this one, and take another one, too, and I will only charge you for one.” I thought, that sounds like a good idea… by now the tour bus driver is honking his horn, hollering at us to get a move on. I ran back to the shelves, which now seemed to carry thousands of little dog figurines! Too many choices! How would I ever find another one that looked just like Hobie? No two were alike. The handiwork was extraordinary. I just grabbed one, any old one, and ran back to the register, paid the lady (was it Euros?), shouted to her an “obrigada!” and leapt onto the bus.
Back in our hotel, I opened up my little bag with the two canine statues inside, and much to my shock, they were BLUE! We figured out that they must be made out of weather-predicting materials and chocked it up to that, rather than some religious epiphany. We did later find out that there are lots of Our Lady of Fatima figurines sold in Fatima. They’re made of weather-sensitive materials that are supposed to change color and predict the weather. They come in many different figurines such as chickens, cats, goats, horses, etc.
When I returned home to Massachusetts, I put those two weather dogs on my bedroom bureau and more or less forgot all about them. Every so often, I’d notice they’d change from pink, to blue, to white.
Six months later, Timba passed away, and soon after, we adopted our hound-dog, Hector. One day, I looked over at the two weather dogs on top of my dresser and realized they are the spitting images of Hobie and Hector.
There are no coincidences. It took me eleven years to write this essay about the weather dogs. I finally wrote this on October 13, 2011, having done no prior research whatsoever. The Fatima apparitions visited the three shepherd children monthly in 1917 from May through October, and always on the 13th of the month. The last apparition occurred on October 13, 1917 exactly 94 years ago.
Iams Home for the Holidays Blog Hop
Iams Home 4 the Holidays, one of the world’s largest pet adoption programs, kicks off its annual adoption drive in partnership with Helen Woodward Animal Center. Their goal is to find homes for 1.5 million orphaned cats and dogs. Now in its 13th year, Iams’ Home 4 the Holidays, which runs up to January 3, 2012, has helped place 5.8 million pets in their forever homes.
This year, Iams and Helen Woodward Animal Center team up with more than 3,500 animal organizations worldwide to encourage pet adoption. In addition, Iams will donate 5 million meals to animals in need at adoption and rescue centers through its Bags 4 Bowls program.
We are asking bloggers to get involved by simply adding your blog to the Blog Hop below. It’s easy, fun and helps to feed animals in need.
Consumers can lend a hand by:
• Visiting the Iams Facebook page and clicking “Like.” For each “Like” comment or photo posted, Iams will donate meals.
• Becoming a fan of Iams’ Facebook page and creating a custom adoption announcement or holiday card to share the news of their new four legged family member or just send a season’s greeting to family and friends. For each card created and shared, Iams will donate meals.
• Purchasing specially-marked packages of Iams dog or cat food during the duration of the campaign. For every specially-marked package sold, Iams will donate one bowl of food to a participating Iams Home 4 The Holidays animal organization.
Joining the program this year are NASCAR driver Ryan Newman and his wife Krissie. The Newmans founded the Ryan Newman Foundation to educate and encourage people to spay or neuter their pets and to adopt animals from shelters and rescue centers. “As proud pet parents to five incredible animals, we are honored to join with Iams Home 4 the Holidays to find permanent homes to loving animals,” says, Ryan.
Iams Home 4 the Holidays strives to educate about the importance of adoption so every pet goes to a permanent, loving home. Those who adopt through the program will receive an Iams adoption kit loaded with important information about nutrition, training and proper care to ensure their relationship with the new animal starts off on the right paw.
Author weaves parents’ love story with World War II history in collection of letters
Author weaves parents’ love story with World War II history in collection of letters
K. S. Mueller’s “More Than Anything in the World: Volume 1, 1942-1943” documents her parents’ new marriage and the hardships of their separation due to the war through letters written between them during World War II
SPENCER, Mass. (MMD Newswire) August 1, 2011 – – After her mother passed away in 2010, Kathleen Mueller and her brother found more than a thousand letters which their parents had written to one another while their father was away at war from 1942 to 1945. In “More Than Anything in the World: Volume 1, 1942-1943” (ISBN 1456547976), K.S. Mueller provides a personal and detailed glimpse into America during the 1940s and World War II.
Recently married, Sergeant Frank J. Mueller leaves his young wife for military training in the United States. While he is still stationed in the country, he is away from everything he knows and loves as he faces both mentally and physically challenging training. His letters depict life for thousands of soldiers who had to leave their homes and families to join the military during World War II.
In addition to the letters, Mueller includes World War II memorabilia and historical information to show the hardships and sacrifices made by “the greatest generation.” She contrasts life in the 1940s, when individuals would sometimes wait hours to make a phone call, with life in today’s age of instant gratification.
“I think that this work can relate to events happening currently,” Mueller says. “Nearly seven decades later, the country is at war in Afghanistan. Loved ones are still separated due to the war, but we now have email and the internet for communication.”
In Mueller’s publication of the actual letters written in her parents’ own words, she hopes to display the sacrifices and courageous efforts of World War II soldiers and their families through her parents’ correspondence. This first edition in a three-part series focuses on her father’s time in training while he was stationed in the United States. The next two volumes will cover Sgt. Mueller’s deployment to Europe and the events he experienced throughout World War II. The author hopes that readers will develop an appreciation for soldiers like her father who risked their lives and futures for the freedoms we enjoy today–and, in the middle of it all, enjoy a poignant love story between two young Americans.
“More Than Anything in the World: Volume 1, 1942-1943” is available for sale online at Amazon.com and other channels.
About the Author:
K. S. Mueller writes short non-fiction essays about dogs, cats and other topics, aside from her “real job” as a travel executive in Massachusetts. She found a box of more than 1,000 letters written by her parents during World War II in 2010, and decided to publish these letters in a three-volume set that covers the three years her father, Sgt. Frank J. Mueller, was stationed in various locations worldwide with the United States Army.
MEDIA CONTACT:
K. S. Mueller
Email: k2k9dogs@gmail.com
Phone: (508) 450-9552
Website: www.ksmueller.com
REVIEW COPIES AND INTERVIEWS AVAILABLE
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Check out my web sites!
I have three web sites. The first one consists of my essays about dogs, cats and other topics. It’s http://www.k2k9.com/
The second one is my pride and joy: the collection of my parents’ WWII letters! Visit me there at http://www.ksmueller.com/
And finally, my tales of woe living (and still working full-time) in the grip of fibromyalgia!. That’s viewable at http://www.fibroworks.com/
You can follow me on Facebook, just look for K.S. Mueller
And on Twitter, I’m k2k9.
From Cesarsway.com: A Westminster Story: Teddy
The dog show world caught the attention of the masses in 2000 with the viral popularity of the comedic film, “Best in Show.” But the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show has actually been a tradition for more than 130 years. In fact, it is the second-longest running sporting event in the United States behind only the Kentucky Derby. Hundreds of thousands of dogs have marched through the show ring to display the finest of pedigree and breeding throughout the show’s long history, and Teddy the Beagle is one of those many.
Teddy joined Richard Hilton and Diana Lipari’s family in May 2007. Diana, the President of the Southern California Beagle Club, had grown up with Beagles and wanted to bring another one into her life when her 14 and a half-year-old Beagle, Lionel B. Barrymore, passed away. Upon selecting a reputable breeder, Diana decided to take on her first show quality Beagle and chose Teddy from the litter. “Teddy is a natural show dog with a lot of charisma,” said Diana. “He comes from a long line of great dogs who had that extra something.” Read more at Cesarsway.com! http://www.cesarsway.com/news/dognews/A-Westminster-Story-Teddy