Monday, May 21, 2012

Fireflies and Fish

As of yesterday, my book was the top rated dog training book on Amazon....and the #2 bestseller in dog training behind Cesar Milan. I don't understand. Why am I not rich? This is a tough business. I figure if all you tell your friends to buy my book, I might nudge out Cesar Milan. Go ahead. I'll wait till you get back.

This morning as I came out just as the sun was rising, I saw a small luminescent fleck on the floor. I put my cup down and could see that spot in the still dark area glowing from across the room. I went closer and peered down at the golden bright speck. It was a dying firefly. I picked it up and it moved a little, so it was not quite dead, but it was clearly not quite alive either. Still, in the last few moments of life, it was glowing. When I gently picked it up, it glowed more brightly, flashing for a moment and then returned to the slightly subdued glow. I had never seen a firefly with its lights stuck in the "on" position. I put it on the leaf of one of our plants where I thought it could slowly sparkle off in comfort and peace.

I dropped Asherel at a friend's house during the day yesterday, and then went to a lake nearby on which I had never kayaked. It's shores were filled with picnickers and people fishing. It was a spectacular day, and it was no surprise to see the popular county park thronging with people. I kayaked to more quiet remote areas. At one point, I glided past a family just as a young boy caught a fish. It was clear that this was the first fish he had ever caught, perhaps the first fish anyone in the family had ever caught, judging from the family's reaction.
"I caught a fish! I caught a fish!" the young boy cried, waving the pole with the little fish in the air.
The whole family rushed over. An older brother high-fived the fisherman. The mother and father clasped hands and pointed. Another brother began dancing. All were celebrating with incredulous joy the catching of that tiny fish. I smiled, remembering how joyful my little Matty had been when he had caught fish. Today he turns 24 years old,and no longer goes by "Matty". Long gone are those days when he would rip earthworms in half with his bare hands to bait his hook, with the barb we filed down to make it gentler on the fish. (Obviously the gentleness did not extend to the earthworm, for which I feel bad.)

When I die, I hope to be like that firefly- glowing with the light that has led me through many dark days to the very end. I hope to grow old with the same delight and enthusiasm in the blessings of God as that little fisherman catching his first fish. I hope to always carry the deep love and appreciation for the little ones God entrusted to me and pray they all become such fine adults as my son, Matthias has. It is so easy to focus on what is going away- like fireflies that slowly burn out. How lovely instead to be like that firefly closing its eyes to mortality while flashing such a lovely sparkle of light. How important to remember that if our light is extinguished, who will light our corner of the world?

2 Corinthians 4:6
For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God's glory displayed in the face of Christ.

-save a dog-


  1. Hi Vicky,

    I just picked up your book on Amazon and am about half way through--I recognized that loving dingo face, having just lost my girl about a year ago. Your story and experience with your girl and her behavior mirror my own--I wish I had a Malta when Ginger was with us! Glad you have a blog to follow, I'll look forward to finishing the book and following your work. Best wishes!

    Mary Ann

  2. thankyou Mary Ann, and I just looked at your blog. YOu are a wonderful photographer!

  3. That's very kind, thanks Vicky--that blog is actually one I had a hard time moving along. Here is my original blog, which kind of came to a halt when Ginger died: Her photo is the post you should see first, let me know if she is your dogs twin. Take care, and I will keep reading.

  4. oh my! Ginger looks so much like Honeybun! Did she have the same sweet loyal character? I would not have known it was not a picture of our dog! Amazing! Do you try to show your photography? You should. It is really excellent. I love old barns too, I paint them often when I do landscapes.

  5. Ginger was sweet to her family members and so loyal, we have no doubt she would have given her life to protect those she knew as family. She really only needed to meet and accept you once. If you did not visit again for a year, a quick sniff and you were no threat. She had the same habit as Honey bun...could be kind and friendly with a new person until they tried to pull away and then she might just lunge. Similar right down to the anal glad issue...I never knew anal glands could be an issue until I met Ginger! Lol. I so appreciate reading about HB. We never could explain ginger to anyone, but I am so glad to know we aren't the only ones who have experienced the dingo! Thanks again on the photo compliment. I haven't ever shown my work. Not sure why, but thank you. I also do watercolors and am fascinated by barns there too. Not sure why, but they are a repeated theme on my work.