Monthly Archives: April 2013

~ Cat Herders ~

See these guys?
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These two handsome lugs are Pat and Doug.  Two of the kindest, most patient cat-herders you’d ever meet.
We had our end-of-season basketball potluck today for our 4th grade boys basketball team, and they were giving their speeches.  They took the time to address each team member specifically.
They kept it short and funny for the audience. They gave lots of kudos and high fives to the same boys they have coached for several years now.
But you know what they did that made the biggest impression on me?

Look at Pat’s face here as he gave Critter his award.
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He cares.
The cats know this.

That’s the only reason they allow Pat and Doug to herd them in the first place!
God bless the cat-herders of this world!

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~ I Know It, and He Knows It ~

One of my recent ‘husband’s career’ posts entitled “The Cost of Search and Rescue” prompted a reader to ask me if I was ever afraid of other women luring my catch of a husband away from my side.

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She asked me if I had considered that by exposing him, and in such a positive light, to the general populace on my blog the way I do, I might be making him a target for aggressive women on the prowl.

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She asked me if I worried he might be tempted by the thrill of other women who want the hero in him for themselves.

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My answer was, “Well, er, no.  At least, not until NOW!”

And golly, thank you very much for putting that little nugget of hitherto unsought anxiety in my brain.

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I was going to see My Captain today to take him lunch at the station.  He was working Over Time for another 24 hours after his normal 24 hour shift, and I had not packed enough food for both days.

And after having the exchange with the reader who wondered if I wasn’t setting myself up for ruining my marriage, I decided to put a little effort into my appearance before I left to go visit him.  You’ll note I didn’t say MORE effort.  I just said effort.  That was intentional.  Some people dress for success.  Some for good first impressions.  I dress for comfort.  Some women dress with the purpose of attracting men’s attention.  I dress with the purpose of avoiding chaffing.

Don’t judge.

But like I said, after that confidence-shattering exchange with the reader, I put effort into my appearance.    I brushed my hair, smelled my armpits, and put on clothes that weren’t made entirely of stretchy cotton knit and had the words “comfort waist” somewhere on the tags.

I think I looked pretty daggum nice, really.  I kind of felt pretty.

I arrived at the station to feed My Captain.  Distracted, as always, he gave me a peck on the cheek without really looking at me, and said he’d be right with me.

20 minutes later, he re-joined me at the kitchen table, long enough to snarf down the food, and wipe his mouth,  when the alarm tones sounded, and he ran off to a high-rise fire without so much as a look back.

This is how his life has been since I’ve known him.  It is one of the things I love about him…being so needed by the world.  I’ve never minded sharing…well, MOSTLY… so today’s visit should not have bothered me so much.

Except that I made an effort, you see, to be, er, attractive.  But since he doesn’t usually find me attractive that way, he wasn’t paying attention, you see.  And at first I was hurt.

But upon reflection, I remembered that he is not attracted to my fine eyes.  Or my above average height.  Or my once fine,  but now slightly saggy, boobies.

He never was.

He fell in love with my intellect.  My wit.  My ability to care deeply for people.   My sensitivity.   My intuition.  These are the things that REALLY mattered to him.

And still do.

I had not been giving him enough credit.  He’s not some 20-year-old whose groin makes his decisions.  He’s a seasoned and wizened 50-year-old, who knew he’d made a lucky catch in the chubby, but hilarious, and seriously loving, me.

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Are there women around him with more visually appealing traits? ……uh, YEAH.  Like a kabillion gillion of them.

There are female firefighters he works with quite often who are drop dead gorgeous, physically strong, wickedly courageous, and would therefore be triple threats!

There are women on any given work day who see him in his uniform and give him the ‘Come Hither’ look.   That’s the curse of any man in uniform, I suspect.

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I can’t worry that any one of them would make a single difference to him.

Because,  1) if they did, I’d rather he leave!  And 2) as wonderful as they all are,  they ain’t me.  And I’m the best me there ever was.  Or ever will be.

I know it.

And he knows it.

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Categories: Family | Tags: , | 1 Comment

~ The Cost of Search And Rescue ~

See that guy with the clipboard?  Yeah, the one looking harassed and concerned.  That’s My Captain.  The love of my life.  Usually I am the one that puts that look on his face.  But this picture was taken during his deployment, as Rescue Manager with Maryland Task Force 1, to New Jersey and New York for Hurricane Sandy.

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During this particular deployment, a few of the rescuers on his team suffered injuries.   It was easy to get injured at some of the places they went!

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And, in fact, at least one of the injured is still recovering…he has not been able to work at all since Hurricane Sandy.

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Fonzie is his name, and his story is in the post entitled Search and Rescue.  This is the sequel post!

If you can recall, Fonzie severely injured his foot and leg in that deployment.  This is a huge problem for a Search and Rescue dog.  They need to be nimble.  They need to be agile.  They need to be able to scramble, for heaven’s sake!  Otherwise they simply can’t do their job.  And their job plays a pivotal role in any search and rescue.

Why?  What is the big deal?  Why not just send in humans?

See this rubble pile at the Oklahoma City bombing?

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This is a nasty rubble pile.  This was one of the first major responses for FEMA’s newly created National Urban Search and Rescue system.  And My Captain was there.

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FEMA did not originally create the Task Forces to deal with terrorism related rescue.  They were, in fact, initially designed to respond to earthquakes and floods and hurricanes.  No one had envisioned ever needing to respond to terrorism here in the country.

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But respond they did….with their rescue dogs…because they knew they couldn’t easily send men and women up these piles fast enough or efficiently enough when looking for viable victims.

They sent the dogs because they knew that the weight of human bodies might shift the rubble pile, potentially further endangering a viable victim, not to mention injuring the rescuers.

They knew and respected the fact that humans don’t have a dog’s excellent ability to sniff out life……or death.   (Yes, there are dogs that are trained to smell cadavers.)  Those amazing snouts are the perfect rescuing tool….so dogs became essential in FEMA search and rescue efforts.

Fast forward to September 11th, 2001.  Here the Task Forces again used dogs…both live-find and cadaver trained.

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They were needed in the mess that was the Pentagon and also at Ground Zero.

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My Captain was deployed to the Pentagon as the Task Force Leader for Maryland’s team.

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There he is sporting a spanky, new safety vest as he gives the briefing for that day’s Pentagon rescue plan for Maryland’s Task Force.

The Search and Rescue Teams deployed to the Pentagon that day were greeted with an unholy mess and the daunting task of trying to find life in a still burning, jet-fuel puddled, fume laden, unstable mire of twisted steel and stone.

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And they had to do it not so much on a rubble pile mountain like at the Oklahoma City Bombing, but rather within more of a confined space kind of rubble pile.  Look at the column on the right…it doesn’t look too stable does it?  Because it is not.  It is very, Very, VERY dangerous.

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The dogs went in and began the search, while the Structural Engineers on the Task Force began designing the stabilization plan.

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And stabilize, they did!

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I’m not kidding when I call it an unholy mess.  But the dogs, the engineers,

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and rescuers wasted no time getting down to business.  If life was there, they were going to find it.

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Shoring up, sifting through, searching, searching, relentlessly searching……

Meanwhile up at Ground Zero, the challenge was a gigantic mountain of collapse and rubble rather than confined space collapse and rubble.  My Captain’s brother, a Lieutenant, was on that massive rubble pile with other parts of the Task Force.  (Do you think maybe My Captain’s parents are a tad proud? I sure would be if both of my sons were rescuers.)

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But back to the dogs, this Golden Retriever is at Ground Zero actually getting ‘shuttled’ between the stories high mountains of rubble.  These dogs could go where humans could not.  They worked incredibly long hours…. It was exhausting.

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Which brings us back to Fonzie.

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Fonzie is a trained ‘live-find’ rescue dog… his handler, Victoria, (who is also a firefighter, EMT, wife to the Frederick City Police Chief, and mommy) trained Fonzie to smell live victims and bark like the dickens at them…even if they are buried deep within  the rubble.

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They train and train and train, waiting for the next deployment.

As I mentioned in the beginning of this post, at the deployment to Hurricane Sandy, Fonzie got his foot stuck under a steel door.  As he thrashed about violently to get free, he severed important tissue and nerves in the toe.  He also managed to do damage to his rotator cuff, and other important parts of his leg.  He’s a mess, that pooch.

Understand that this is a dog who has been invested in heavily…HEAVILY…financially and temporally.   Oodles of time and money and training went into him..this is not a dog you just shrug off and say, “Next!” about.

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Victoria has had the daunting task of trying to rehab Fonzie to the point where he can work again.  He’s gone through intense physical therapy, ultrasound therapy, water therapy…you name it.

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And she is adamant that he wants to work. “Work = Happy” where Fonzie is concerned!  The dog wants to rescue!  Look at him.  It’s as if he’s saying, “All right!  All right!  Let me go already!  I can do this!  Let me WORK!”

But unfortunately, we just don’t know when that could happen.  He’s got a future full of more rehab, possibly more rather invasive surgery, and a lot of time before he can be back on a rubble pile.

And in this day and age, we certainly need him.

Heal fast, Fonzie!

Categories: Fire and Rescue, Urban Search and Rescue | Tags: , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

~ Columbian Ground Squirrel Tree ~

After dinner tonight My Captain, Critter, and I laid down together on the hammock for a springtime evening cuddle.  Darkness was nearly upon us, the Spring Peepers were peeping, the evening songs of birds in the woods around the little cottage filled the cool air.

Critter had gotten a fleece blanket at my request and the three of us, with Critter nestled in between, gently rocked as the sky faded from violet to black.

Looking up at the branches above, Critter remarked that the tree was shaped like a Columbian Ground Squirrel.  Not something you would expect to hear from a 10-year-old boy in Maryland……but whatever!  We’ve learned to roll with it.  The minds in this family are wired a tad differently.   And yet, as he pointed out parts of the tree, and explained their corresponding parts on a Columbian Ground Squirrel, by golly if My Captain and I didn’t see exactly what Critter did.  It DID look like one!

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That tree will now and forever more be known as The Ground Squirrel Tree.

After this epiphany, we were silent for a moment, each of us lost in thought, when suddenly Critter whispered, “Isn’t this just great?  Sitting on the hammock, being together like this?”

As I leaned over to kiss his forehead as answer, I glanced over at My Captain, just in time to see his face soften.

“Yup.” He answered to Critter in his deep, quiet voice.  “It is.”

He’s a man of few words, but I could see it in his face.  He’d been touched deeply by that boy’s innocent, pure, honest statement.

I suppose he never hears things like that at the firehouse.  Can you imagine line-up one morning, where coffee and man-talk reigns?  Can you imagine one of the big burly guys saying in his gruff firefighter voice, “Isn’t this great?  All of us sitting at the table, being together like this?”

….Yeah, I can’t imagine it either.

I guess that kind of innocence and honesty is more easily shared under Ground Squirrel Trees.

You know, I love that Critter will look back on his childhood and remember nights like these.  The swaying hammock, the peeping Spring Peepers, the fleece blanket….

….and being together.

It’s pure gold.

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~ Search and Rescue ~

I’m writing an update on our poor injured Fonzie, at the request of several readers. To remind you how this all started, I’m re-blogging the story!

mamaboe's avatarMama Boe

During Maryland Task Force One’s deployment to Hurricane Sandy in New York and New Jersey, several of the team were injured, among them My Captain.

Don’t worry, he’ll live to rescue another day.

But unfortunately, another task force team member who was injured more seriously, has a long road of recovery ahead of him.

His name is Fonzie.

Fonzie and his handler, Victoria, had a harrowing ride during the week of the storm.

Fonzie’s paw got stuck under a metal door, and he cut the tendon and flesh of one of his toes.  He bled all over the place, and it looks like he will lose his toe.

This is a big deal.  Fonzie is not just a ‘dog.’

He’s a true search and rescuer, with extensive training (to the tune of about $15,000!).  He relies on his paws…and all the toes therein…to climb through rubble piles where humans could…

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Categories: Fire and Rescue, Urban Search and Rescue | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

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