TTMMH (Things That Make Me Happy)

Hero Dogs... and People Too

2010-12-20T19:00:00.005-05:00

Nala, the hero pit bull

Everybody loves dogs, especially hero dogs. But if a pit bull started yanking on leash, would you give in and go where it wanted to go? Let's be honest, not even Lassie would have been all that successful if the people around her were as impatient and non-dog-following as most of us, trudging around with pooper scoopers and tight leashes, ready for the deed to be done and return indoors, or running from point A to point B with no time for dog-inspired detours. Hero dogs just wouldn't be all that successful without the people who pay enough attention to know the difference between "Squirrel!" and "Mayday!"

Here are two stories of hero dogs and people, too.

Pit bulls may be one of the least trusted of dogs, but on December 6, with snow on the ground and temperatures in the teens, a volunteer dog walker for the Redmond, Oregon, Humane Society, following the lead of a pit bull named Nala, saved the life of a blind cocker spaniel named Chadwick that had gotten lost and seemingly passed out in a ditch in the snow. The blind dog, who only a month earlier had been adopted from the same shelter from which Nala was being given a nice stretch of the legs, had escaped his new owner's home. The owners had searched desperately for the dog, but where they had failed, Nala succeeded.

As the volunteer for the Humane Society was taking Nala for her walk, the dog began to pull on her leash, something uncharacteristic for the dog. As the persistent Nala kept pulling, the volunteer finally gave in and let Nala pull him along. He followed Nala to a ditch, and there they found the small, blind, black and white dog curled up in the snow. (Read the full story. Or, if you are interested in adopting Nala, a relatively long-term resident of the shelter, visit the Redmond Humane Society.)

On October 30, Paul Horton crashed his bike on a route he had made many times before without incident. He went over the handle bars, landed on his head, and was paralyzed from the chest down. He had no way of getting help, and there was no one else in sight. But his dog, Yogi, stayed faithfully by his side, until there were people he could employ to help.

Paul's neighbors, out for a walk, could have simply ignored the barking dog, assuming it would run back to its master, or they could have caught it and taken it home, assuming the dog was simply lost. In either scenario, the paralyzed Paul might have remained hidden and died of his injuries. Fortunately, the couple that Yogi found were out for a stroll, recognized that the dog was behaving strangely, and chose to follow the normally calm, quiet dog back to his injured master.

So the next time Fido wants to wander off the trail, before tugging the chain and saying no, maybe give it a second thought. Just in case.

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Music to Give a Zombie a Kick in the Happy Pants

2010-12-10T16:46:00.000-05:00

If you don't love music, then I'm pretty sure you're a zombie, and not just your everyday human-in-a-rut zombie, a reallio, trulio undead, apocalyptic, past-your-prime and losing-chunks-of-rotting-flesh kind of zombie.

Music is one of the most powerful expressions of the human condition. (And actually, saying "human" condition is a bit rich on our part. I mean we've all seen those videos of birds and dogs and pussycats and crickets who make and feel the music, too.) But music is more than just a reflection of our emotions and experiences, it has the power to affect our moods, to transfigure our outlook, to heal what's hurt and broken, and to bridge the infinite distances between one human (feline, canine, cricket, creature/being) and another.

Sometimes we need the solace of music that lets us know that we are not alone in our feelings of sadness, anger, frustration, heartbreak... And sometimes we need music that can inspire, encourage, and remind us that life is beautiful, magical, and full of wonder -- music that can lift us out of a funk and make us happy.

Here are some of my favorite happifying songs (who knows, they might even give a zombie a kick in the happy pants):

What A Wonderful World – Louis Armstrong, Israel Kamakawiwo'ole
Over the Rainbow – Judy Garland, Get Happy: The Life of Judy Garland
Beautiful World – Colin Hay
Soulshine – Allman Brothers, Gov’t Mule
Weather with You – Crowded House
Two Little Feet – Greg Brown
I’m Yours – Jason Mraz
Getting Better Now – Bob Schneider
Beautiful Day – U2
Blessed – Brett Dennen
I Gotta Feeling – Black Eyed Peas
Make Someone Happy- Jimmy Durante
I've Got The World On A String – Frank Sinatra
Girls Just Want To Have Fun – Cyndi Lauper
Celebration – Kool and the Gang
The Arrivals Gate – Ani Difranco
Salt Water Joys – Buddy Wasisname and the Other Fellers
Simply The Best – Tina Turner
Walking on Sunshine – Katrina and the Waves
Hear Comes the Sun – The Beatles

And for some alternative opinions, here are some quotes on music:

“Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything.” — Plato

“Music produces a kind of pleasure which human nature cannot do without.” — Confucius

“When I hear music, I fear no danger. I am invulnerable. I see no foe. I am related to the earliest times, and to the latest.” — Henry David Thoreau

“Music speaks what cannot be expressed, soothes the mind and gives it rest, heals the heart and makes it whole, flows from heaven to the soul.” — Unknown

Upward Spirals: A Shared Sense of Humanity in Haiti

2010-12-01T23:41:00.000-05:00

Christa notes:
I'm only halfway up the climb,
but I finished the hardest part!

When things go wrong, it's easy to get caught in a downward spiral, a whirlpool that sucks you in and seems impossible to escape. But some stories show that in life we can also create and add to the momentum of an upward spiral, a current of events capable of pulling up not only ourselves, but countless others.

Even just one small deed can be the blast of fresh air that lifts a kite into the sky. An upward spiral is when that one thing leads to or joins with another and another until it is a whirlwind with incredible momentum.

It is the volunteers who leave their home and country to help others gain things that we in first-world countries take for granted.
It is the student-cum-rescuer who refuses to give up and goes as far as it takes to save the life of a foreigner.
It is the complete stranger, a child, who sees someone in pain and reaches out to hold their hand.
It is the amputee who inspires others as she relearns to walk, to run, and to climb rocks and ice.
It is the victim of a natural disaster who in her moment of greatest agony makes a promise and keeps it.
It is all those who hear a story and put their time, money, and hearts into supporting someone else's dream.
It is the countless others who are never in the spotlight, but who dedicate their lives to saving lives, rehabilitating the injured, rebuilding what's been broken, or building what never was.

This is the story of many not-so-everyday heroes: Christa Brelsford, Wenson Georges, Gerald Lumarque, Julian Brelsford, Kent Annon, emergency workers, surgeons, community leaders, volunteers, and many more.

On January 12, 2010, a magnitude-7.0 earthquake, the largest in more than 100 years, struck Port-au-Prince and reduced much of central Haiti to rubble. Christa Brelsford was in Darbonne, just south of the capital, volunteering for a literacy project. As the earth and buildings began to shake, she, her brother, Julian, and three colleagues were about to get on the internet -- in a second-story room. As they fled, the house began to crumble. Christa fell on the stairs, and rubble rained around her. A huge chunk of cement dropped, crushing her leg and pinning her in the debris.

As for so many others, that tragic day could have been the end for Christa. But Gerald Lumarque, Wenson Georges, and Julian labored for hours to rescue her. They broke up the larger pieces of rock with a pick ax and dug her out. When they finally broke her free of the debris, Gerald took the driver's seat on his motorcycle, and Wenson climbed on behind, holding the injured Christa like an infant as they rode through rubble-covered streets to a United Nations peacekeeping mission where she received rudimentary medical attention (and cookies). Wenson stayed with her. He sat so that his body blocked a glaring light, hoping it might allow her to sleep and escape her pain. He gave her his clothes when she complained of being cold. He made sure the embassy knew about her and the severity of her condition so that she would be medevaced out and receive the treatment she needed.

But Wenson was not the only one watching out for the injured foreigner.

"While I was laying on the ground at the military base, the Sri Lankan doctors were trying to remove a piece of concrete embedded in my left leg," Christa wrote on her website. "It was quite painful, and I sat up looking for something to hold on to. A little boy noticed me, came over, and held my hand until the doctors had finished."

Christa was medavaced to Miami, where surgeons had to amputate part of her right leg, but as she sat in the hospital room, she didn't succumb to self-pity -- she made a promise.

"When I was in the hospital after the earthquake, the two most important things that came to mind were: Get the school rebuilt and help the kid (Wenson) who dug me out," said Christa. "I promised myself that I would return to help them."

She started Christa's Angels, a foundation to help quake survivors, and with the help of Haiti Partners, she has kept that promise. On November 21, she was back in Haiti for the inauguration ceremony for the Cabois Community School, where 177 students are receiving an education in the newly rebuilt facilities.

Christa has also been working on her other promise by trying to secure a visa for Wenson to come to the United States. The paperwork has been submitted, and she hopes that he will be able to visit and interview for the the visa in January.

A note on Christa's website says:

This experience has reinforced my faith in the basic goodness of humanity. People step up and do the right thing when they’re given the chance. I’m just a ordinary kid who had one big bite of bad luck, and an even bigger bite of very very good luck. The bad luck was completely impersonal. Getting caught in a house was just timing. However, the good luck that I had was the result of deliberate human choices to be kind and compassionate. People stepped in at the right time, chose to help me out, and made things happen in order to get me safe. I was lucky, but the behavior I saw in the immediate aftermath of this terrible disaster wasn’t the violence and selfishness that people fear. My experience in that terribly time was one of compassion, helpfulness, and a shared sense of humanity.

Watch interviews with those involved:

Christa shortly after the amputation

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Christa about keeping her promises and a tearful reunion with Wenson

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Kent Annon of Haiti Partners talks with Wenson and Gerald about Christa's rescue

Related books and videos:

Trash into Tile

2010-11-30T19:36:00.000-05:00

Used toilets are gross. Clogged up landfills are even more so. So it makes perfect sense to dig through a landfill, pull up some used toilets, and use them to decorate your kitchen.

(Of course, it makes a tiny bit more sense if someone else does the dirty work, and all you have to do is use their tile to get LEEDs credits.)

Paul Burns, of Fireclay Tile, is specializing in turning other people's trash into other people's treasure for a product line called "Debris Series Recycled Tile." He found someone (Recology, a company that specializes in helping people turn waste into useful things) to scour through a landfill for used toilets, tubs, and sinks and then smash all that not-so-fine porcelain into tiny bits. He then takes the porcelain particles, pours them into a mix, and makes decorative tiles.

But the best part of this potty tale is that wasn't even the beginning of the story. It all started with dust, granite quarry dust. You can hear more at more NPR or read more and see pictures at the Fireclay Tile blog.

And this story makes me happy because it's all about scavenging, which is kinda like exploring, except it's exploring with benefits, and by benefits I mean treasure, and everyone likes a treasure hunt, especially one that makes the bathroom or kitchen pretty and helps the environment and gives people jobs -- Win-Win-Win.

Some related reading:

Olga Koltelko (and People Who Prove it's Never to Late to Learn New Tricks)

2010-11-29T22:08:00.000-05:00

At an age when most people are slowing down and retiring to their walkers or death beds, Olga Kotelko is doing the long jump, throwing shotput, and setting records.

Olga is 91 years old and proving that it's never too late to take up a new sport. And she's actually good at it, not just alive and ... still kicking -- so to speak. Olga took up masters track and field at 77, and over the past 14 years, she's won more than 600 gold medals. As a result, she's being studied by McGill University's Montreal Chest Institute and featured by the NY Times.

Watch Olga in Action.

And this story makes me happy because it's lots of happy-making stuff all in one:

Exercise — a good, regular walk can be just as effective as vitamin P. Running, jumping, and throwing things is good for venting the bad stuff and getting the happy juices flowing.
Annoying the Grimm Reaper — what could be more universally happifying to us humans than living healthier longer?
Learning new things — getting the brain and body going on a new challenge is stimulating.
Inspiration — a freakin' 91-year-old is doing the long jump, and that is just awesome.

Some related reading:

Boxes

2010-11-29T21:35:00.000-05:00

It's past Thanksgiving and therefore officially Christmastime! Parents everywhere are scrambling madly about fighting over the last big it-amabob in three cities and spending gobs of money on random stocking stuffers and under-tree-space fillers. I fear that come Christmas afternoon, they may discover they should just as well have put all that money in savings and all that time into a trip for two to Tahiti for all the appreciation the little bratikins show for those watchamajigs come Christmas afternoon.

But what is guaranteed to make kids (of a certain age, at least) happy? The boxes -- especially the really big boxes (You know, like the one that held that appliance gift for Mom, for which she is pissed. Public Service Announcement: Gentlemen, if it plugs in, it's not a Christmas gift. At least, as far as most women are concerned. As far as I'm concerned, an iRoomba for hardwoods would be awesome ... but I'm a single bachelorette ... and it's not a household appliance, it's a robot! And robots are always cool. But I digress.)

Why are big boxes a hit? FORTS!

Who doesn't love making a fort or a treehouse? Come on, you know you want to make one right now. Strip the pillows off the couch, push some furniture around, grab some sheets and blankets, grab a loved one or six, build and build, and then curl up inside and enjoy the coziness. Read a book, watch a movie on a laptop or mini TV, or play pretend.

Why does building forts make us happy? Because it's all about adventure, imagination, and being literally constructive. It's hard to be grumpy when your brain is at work with inspiration and challenge and you have a final product (a safe, cozy shelter) to show for your efforts. And that coziness is key, too. It's like Temple Grandin's squeeze machine -- building a fort can be like building ourselves a great big, private hug.

This post inspired by Maru the cat, who clearly loves boxes for squeezing into and napping, or a good challenge, or a plain old dose of slip-n-slide silliness. Haven't seen Maru the cat? Here are some videos. (I promise, this blog will not be a rehashing of a bunch of viral cute-cat and silly-puppy videos.)

Organ Donors: Making Lemonade from Life's Hardest Moments

2010-11-26T13:49:00.000-05:00

It doesn't get much harder than knowing your loved one is going to die. I will never forget the call (It was actually a message on my answering machine.) -- the one that said my father was in the hospital and I needed to come. That call changes everything.

But sometimes you have the opportunity to turn your greatest tragedy into the greatest possible gift for others.

What do you do when that sort of devastation hits? How do you make lemonade from ... what surely cannot be compared with something as commonplace as lemons? Carolyn Glaspy was given a rare opportunity. When her son, Chris Henry (who was a wide receiver for the Cincinnati Bengals), was in a car accident, she didn't have long to say goodbye, and then she had a tough decision to make, one that Chris had never made while he was alive, and one that she had to make quickly: whether to allow Chris's organs to be used to try to help others whose lives still hung in the balance.

Sometimes, as in Carolyn Glaspy's case, knowledge that loss is coming arrives with only moments. Sometimes we are given weeks, months, even years to fight, hope, prepare, and say goodbye. For many, like my father during his battle with leukemia, illness comes, battles are fought and lost, and at some point, the last hope lies in the body of another.

When my father passed away, his organs were failing him one by one. He was put on more and more machines. Donating his organs wouldn't have helped anyone. But he had been on the other side of the donation scenario. My father had received a second chance: the gift of bone marrow from his brother (a living donation). And though his story didn't end the way we'd all hoped (though we at least rejoiced at the declaration of cancer free before graft vs. host disease and the sudden illness that took him), I am still grateful that my uncle gave him that hope, that second (third, fourth, possibly 512th) chance. It's much easier to lose knowing that you (the collective you of doctors, friends, family, the cancer community, and wide world...) fought with everything you could.

It makes me happy to hear stories of others giving that gift. Carolyn Glaspy took the opportunity to donate her son's organs. And on Thanksgiving, she got to have dinner with, not one person, but four people who are alive today because of that split-second decision to give back when she had just lost so much.

As she said: "People of faith believe that people journey into one's life for a reason. Of course, my family will never be the same, but it will also never be bigger. And for that, on this and every other day, I will truly, truly be forever thankful."

For a happy tearjerker, watch the CBS video: Chris Henry's Legacy Lives On.

Gratitude Makes Everything Better

2010-11-26T11:28:00.000-05:00

"It is impossible to feel grateful and depressed in the same moment." -- Naomi Williams

I don't know which Naomi Williams in the wide world and history is responsible for this quote, but I'm glad she immortalized the sentiment. Sometimes the best way out of a pity party (How ever much you may deserve that party -- 'cause, let's be honest, sometimes, you really, really do: Grieving is healthy, folks.) is to stop and be actively grateful.

“I have learned that some of the nicest people you’ll ever meet are those who have suffered a traumatic event or loss. I admire them for their strength, but most especially for their life gratitude -- a gift often taken for granted by the average person in society.” -- Sasha Azevedo (Sorry, I didn't even try to find out who Sasha Azevedo is, but I hope this means she'd think I'm a pretty nice person. --Edit: Turns out, she's an actress, not even credited in Dear John)

Just before my senior year of college, my father passed away. (My grandmother had passed away rather expectedly my first semester, then a 28-year-old cousin and an middle-aged uncle both rather unexpectedly, but it was my father's death that was the real walloper.) I really wasn't sure how to get through it. How does the world keep on turning after such a loss? It's been 10 years. I'm still not over it. I still grieve. But I am grateful for the loss, because (as cliche as it is) it taught me to appreciate life. Before his death, I'm not sure I really knew what gratitude was. Now my life is rich with it. I am truly grateful for each year I survive, truly grateful for little things like a bite of good chocolate or sun on my face. I stop and smell the roses -- literally.

His loss also taught me to be grateful for the people around me. Such a simple thing, going to a funeral, but I am still astoundingly grateful for the friends (some of whom had never met my father) who came to the funeral just to be there for me; the strangers who told me things I had never known and who seemed to love me, want to help and comfort me, simply because they had loved my father; and for the surprising people that you'd never expect who are just really there for you when you need them. And obviously, it taught me to appreciate the time I have with those I care about.

I'm feeling quotalicious, so one more:
"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow." -- Melody Beattie (Melody, I discovered, was abused, kidnapped, an addict, etc., then she had an epiphany, cleaned up and became an author/journalist/teleplay writer. She's all about codependency, self-help, meditation, and that sort of stuff: Codependent No More ; Journey to the Heart: Daily Meditations on the Path to Freeing Your Soul; Choices: Taking Control of Your Life and Making It Matter; The Grief Club: The Secret to Getting Through All Kinds of Change; Stop Being Mean to Yourself.)

I feel blessed to have learned this lesson when I did, because simple gratitude is like magic. An honest and sincere thank you is always a ray of sunshine. For the recipient, it can warm the heart with happiness and pride and inspire more altruism. But for the one feeling it, gratitude can provide light in the darkest times; warmth on the loneliest nights; and the energy to push through the dirt, make nutrition from decay, and grow.

Growing as a person is one of my things. And so, I have to admit:

I have often been filled with immense gratitude and been too shy to express it. Bought gifts and never delivered them. Written letters and never mailed them. These are some of my biggest regrets. (And I'm going to work on doing better.)

So [since I spent Thanksgiving alone and mostly crying on my couch (for fairly stupid reasons, I must say), today, I'm starting this blog, and I'd like to issue a blanket (yet sincere) statement] Thank You. (Even to those of you I don't know. Sometimes the simplest joy comes from witnessing a complete stranger's act of joy, kindness, or humanity. And even if you haven't been one of those strangers who has made my day, I'm sure at some point, you've made someone's without knowing it, and that makes me happy.)

Thank you for the smile, the hug, the thought, the listening ear, the pat on the back, the shoulder to lean on, the honest advice, the food, the drink, the laugh, the piece of your mind, the silence, the music, the dance, the magical moment of time…

Thank you for every nugget that has made mine a very rich life.

Some books on gratitude: