My Informative Speech!!

Here you go Katrina.  Hope you enjoy reading it!  To the rest of the world, this is a copy of my Famous Dog Speech that I had to give in my speech class this past week.  Hint:  It really helps to hold on to old English essays, as they lend themselves so well for a speech...

Choosing a Dog

            Dogs are one of the most popular pets in the United States.  According to a 2009-2010 survey by the American Pet Products Manufacturers Association “there are approximately 77.5 million owned dogs in the United States, with 39% of US households owning at least one dog.”  Dogs have a reputation of being man’s (or woman’s) best friend.  Many people aspire to become dog owners for that reason alone.  But before running down to the local animal shelter or pet store, potential doggie parents need to decide what kind of dog they want.  Most of the time this decision is based upon breed, size, temperament, grooming needs, or slobber quantity.  While these are things that need to be taken into consideration, they are not the most important factors in choosing a dog.  The decision of which dog to bring home should be based on what an individual owner needs or wants a dog to be:  Perfect Spouse, Personal Trainer, or Private Security.

            First up is the Perfect Spouse, also known as a companion dog.  These are typically the smaller breeds or couch potato dogs, such as Yorkies, Peinkanies, and smaller Bulldogs.  It need not matter whether its owner is a man or woman; it will fulfill the basic desires and expectations of an ideal mate.  From a woman’s point of view, a dog often makes a much better husband than a man ever would.  Her dog is always attentive to how her day went.  Hubby, as she has named her Yorkie, listens with rapt attention as she describes the trials and victories of work.  He does not complain when dinner is late or maybe a little too overdone.  He understands that she is mentally and physically exhausted and needs a quiet night of watching her favorite chick-flick movies.  He shows his support of her decision with a wag of his tail as he hops up next to her and settles in for “Pride and Prejudice” with Keiera  Knightly.  A dog could also be a better wife for a man than a woman could ever hope to become.  He knows that his bulldog, Lady, will not berate him for coming home late.  There will be no questions of where he has been or why he didn’t bother to call.  Lady is always pleased to be seen with him no matter what he is wearing.  She is incapable of nagging about chores and loves to watch football and old John Wayne war movies.  Her favorite place in the world is snuggled close to him as World War II era aircraft battle the skies for control of France.  Hubby and Lady really are the Perfect Spouses.

            Second, after the Perfect Spouse, is the Personal Trainer.  Gym membership fees are costly, and to hire a human personal trainer is a monthly expense that is getting harder to afford.  An active breed makes the best Personal Trainer.  Dogs that were originally bread for farm life, such as Boxers, Shelties, and Border Collies fall into this category.  Why go to the trainer when he/she is already at home?  Zack, the Australian Sheppard, keeps his owners on a strict, active schedule.  He pulls them out of bed at first light with his intense stare and a few short yaps, and it is go, go, go from there.  First, he shows them how to stretch, preparing all the muscles for what is to come.  Next, he starts his trainees off with a brisk walk to get their blood pumping and legs moving.  If they do not move fast enough, he may possibly slow down some to encourage them.  Then, Trainer Zack pushes for the run.  There are no excuses, no shortcuts, and most definitely no whining allowed in this workout program.  Zack is an expert in uphill jogging and long distance running.  His main goal is to prepare his owners for the next Boston Marathon.  After an hour of intense workout, Zack finally relents to take a break and leads his owners back home.  But the rest is short-lived, for in a couple of hours he will start the workout all over again.  There will be no couch potatoes in Zack’s house.  He will not accept a half-hearted workout, no matter the circumstances.  Running in the pouring rain builds endurance, and the thunder overhead just gives his owners more of an incentive to run faster.  Why go to the sports center and pay to be yelled at by a semi-complete stranger when a Personal Trainer dog is perfectly happy to be paid in kibble and head-rubs?

            Lastly, there are the dogs of Private Security.  German Sheppards, Rottweilers, Dobermans, and most other larger and imposing looking breeds are the bodyguards in this field.  Home security systems offer burglar protection while the homeowner is away, but any good action movie shows how a respectable criminal can bypass the system.  Employ and train the right watchdog, and there will be no way to circumvent this security.  The massive eyes would be enough to scare wannabe burglars away.  The deep, loud barks of bravery are definitely going to make the intruder pass on to the next house on the street.  A homeowner is never going to have to worry about a power outage causing a short and disabling the system.  He will never wake up in the middle of the night wondering if he remembered to turn it back on after coming home from work.  Private Security dogs can also be good walking companions.  Sally Singlewoman will have no fear of an attack while on an evening walk with Bruno the Rottie by her side.  His large head and alert ears are always scanning the terrain, looking for possible danger.  He is ever vigilant at her side, and will warn any unknowns approaching his position to keep their distance.  A criminal lurking in the park and watching for potential victims will quake in fear at the sight of Bruno.  His monthly salary is a couple of doggie treats and a dish of kibble twice a day.  Compare that to the monthly bill for a human bodyguard and one will find the Private Security dog is the way to go.

            In closing, choosing a dog is as much about the owner’s lifestyle and needs as it is about the type of dog, and it requires some personal reflection and research. Animal Planet.Com has a dog breed selector questionnaire that will aid any unsure potential owner in deciding what they need.  A marathon runner would not be happy with a Peinkanese or Pit bull.  A jumpy woman living alone would not feel as safe and secure with a Shitzu or Sheltie.  While a Bull Mastiff might be a passable companion dog, he would definitely take up too much of the couch on a bad-day movie night.  Dogs come in many different shapes and sizes, but it is important for the owner to remember that they all fall into one of three categories.  Dogs can be the Perfect Spouse, a Personal Trainer, or Private Security.  The happiness of both the owner and the dog depends on knowing what is needed and who the best candidate to fill that need is.

Zaboo!!!!

See this face?  Isn't it adorable??  This face belongs to my spoiled-rotten child, er, cat.  Her name is Zoboomafoo and she is my baby.  I call her Zaboo for short; Zoboomafoo is only used when she is doing something naughty and she knows it.  Zaboo is quite an unusual kitty and has some interesting habits, such as a monstrous dislike of closed doors, especially if you are on the other side.  She plays fetch better than most dogs.  And she will obediently run to my (our) room at night when told to "go to bed".  Of course, I have a massive southern accent, so it comes out more like "Zaaaboooo, go to bey-ud".

While she is daily deserving of a post in my blog for keeping my feet warm at night, drinking water out of the sink, playing with pound puppies, or just being so darn cute, I try not to write about her because I do not want to sound like a crazy cat lady just yet.  However, last week she did something that I feel is worth telling the world.

I had decided to buy her a new toy.  Why, I do not know.  She prefers to "stalk" the toys from my youngest sister's room.  Anyway... this particular toy came with a pouch a catnip, which I had decided not to give her.  Someone had once referred to it as "marajuana for cats" and I am determined not to raise a druggie!  However, I made the crucial error of leaving the small pouch out in the open where she could find it.  The next afternoon, I noticed something strange going on.  My precious yet mischievious child was croutched on the floor, with a glazed look in her giant green eyes.  She was continuously rolling around on the same spot of the floor, practically rubbing herself into the carpet.  After a few moments of watching her odd behavior I noticed small flakes of a foreign particle covering her soft, thick furr.  I stooped down on the carpet to see what was so interesting to her, when I saw it:  A small, torn plastic bag of what used to be catnip!  My little snot had found the baggie, drug it under the couch, and proceeded to rip it open.  Catnip was all over the floor and all over her.  I called her by her full name, which only brought me a quick glance.  "Whattt???"  she seemed to innocently ask.

I cleaned her off as best I could, and vaccuumed up all of the offending particles, fussing her for her poor choices.  For the next three days she would come to that same spot, croutching low and sniffing, as if looking for any trace amounts for her next kitty high.  All of my hard work and carefull parenting, all for naught!  But I have finally forgiven her (after a long 3 hours), and she has promised never to do it again.  At lest that is what I enterpretted that "mrrrow" to mean.

Opportunities and Footholds

Leave no (such) room or foothold for the devil (give no opportunity to him).  Ephesians 4:27 AMP


God has an interesting sense of timing, and He can use anything or anyone to speak through.  I know this from personal experience, the latest of which occurred during Psychology class.  Yeah, I know...  God using Psychology! 

We were studying the Foot in the Door phenomenon= "the tendency for people who have first agreed to a small request to comply later with a larger request".  The book had even printed, at the end of the paragraph, these words:  "To get people to agree to something big, start small and build (Cialdini, 1993).  A trivial act makes the next act easier.  Give in to a temptation and you will find the next temptation harder to resist."  Psychology in Everyday Life, David G Meyers, pg 378

1 Peter 5:8 says that the devil is running around looking for someone he can devour.  How does he eat us up?  How do we find ourselves being eaten by him?  It starts with a small decision:  We give into a little temptation; we excuse an action or choice because it is no big deal or unimportant; and seriously, it won't hurt anybody, no one would even know.  We agree to a small request, a trivial act, and he has his foot in the door.  The he builds on that first step.  The next choice is harder to refuse, the next temptation is stronger, the next act isn't so trivial.  And we take another step closer to his gaping mouth.  We had given him a foothold, and he is using it to gain ground in our lives.  When did he start chewing on us?  When we took that first step!  He had us, and we didn't have a clue.

I started thinking of where the devil could get his insert his scaly foot:  Music, Books, Movies, TV, Friends, Work, The Internet,....  Now, I am NOT saying that all movies and tv shows are evil, and we should only be listening to old gospel music, and should never, ever get on the computer.  However, I do think we need to be guarding our hearts and minds as we are watching tv, reading popular fiction, surfing the web, listening to the radio, and hanging with our buds.  Taking every thought captive to Christ (2 Corinthians 10:5) will go a very long way in keeping us from becoming lion chow, a snack for the devil.

Yep, God showed up in my Psychology class. He has an excellent sense of humor!

My Winter Wonderland!

You need to understand:  I have spent my entire life living in areas where snowfall is rare, almost unheard of.  I would see it on the news, in old Christmas movies, and in other people's vacation photos.  Occasionally I would be lucky enough to see some sporadic flakes descending from above, but those moments were always few and very far between.  So when Mr Weather dares hint about possible snow, I get so excited.

For the last few years I have been living right on the east coast.  Hurricanes we get, snow we don't.  But this winter has been an exception.  I got to see an almost White Christmas, and that was amazing. I tend to think of it as a belayed Christmas gift from God.  A few weeks later, on the first day of classes, I woke up to a surprise snow that shut down the school system (God's surprise present to me).  Both of these occurances of winter weather left less than 3 inches of snow, but that didn't matter to me.  I saw snow!

I thought all this was amazing and wonderful, but it was nothing compared to what visited the coast this past weekend!  I was cautiously informed by Mr Weather that there was a small possibility of a "dusting" to occur late Saturday afternoon.  Imagine my surprise and joy when, at 10am Saturday morning, tiny white flakes began floating down from the sky.  How pretty they were!  I sat by the window and enjoyed them while I could, because I was told they wouldn't be dancing for me for long. 

Not only did they keep falling, they came down heavier and faster.  The lithe dancers turned into hardy runners and raced each other to the ground.  Within hours I huddled under my electric blanket as I drank in the sight of a complete white-out beyond my dining room windows.  Poor Mr Weather was so confused.  By the end of the day it had finally stopped falling.  What was predicted to be a light dusting had left over 6 inches on my porch!

Now I know some of you do not like the snow, but I love it!  I love the look of a brand new white blanket covering my muddy, rutted yard and stately Snowmen guarding my driveway.  The smell of the snow, crisp and fresh and clean, enraptures my senses.  The sound of snow, however, is my favorite thing.  Snow is quiet, muffling out the chaotic sounds of the world and leaving a calming peacefulness in its wake.  For a few moments I forget about the worries of life.  Everything is new.  Everything is clean.  Everything is quiet.  Everything is perfect.

Frozen Inside and Out

I am an addict, but I do not have a problem.  Admitting that I have a problem would entail lableing my frequent trips to Starbucks as detrimental, and we all know they are not.  There can be absolutely nothing adverse about the happiness waiting right inside the entryway for me.  I can also quit whenever I want to.  I just don't want to.

This past week I began my second year as a full-time college student, complete with a night class located 45 minutes from my home.  Getting there was not an issue.  It is a relatively easy drive and I had my own personal mix of Owl City to accompany me.  Staying awake through the class, however, was the issue.  It was a chilly 26 degrees outside, not taking into effect the biting wind.  So naturally, those in charge of the thermostat felt the need to overcompensate for the frigidness outside by roasting us alive inside.  In less than two minutes my coat and scarf had come off, and I was bemoaning my winter clothing.  For the next two and a half hours I vainly struggled to stay awake and focused on Governmental and Non-Profit Accounting.  Yes, is it exactly as stimulating as it sounds.

By the time the class was over I did not know what I was going to do.  I was hot, tired, and my brain hurt.  How would I ever make that late night drive home through the now dark and deer-infested roads?  With a smile on my weary face I exited the oven and walked out into the freezer,got into my car and headed to the Target; for the Target alone held my only hope:  a Starbucks!

Shivering, I walked up to the counter and placed my order.  "I realize that it is less than 30 degrees outside, but I NEED a Grande Java Chip Frappuccino, please" I said through chattering teeth to the barista.  Amazingly, she didn't laugh out loud at me like I thought she would.  And in less than five minutes later I was returning to the bitter cold with my frozen coffee drink clenched in my bare hands.  No, I do not have a problem.

Now I know that one is supposed to have a hot drink when it is so cold outside.  The heat from a hot coffee  or a hot chocolate warms a person from the inside out.  But that was not what I wanted.  "Besides," I said to my dear friend the Frapp, "if I had something hot inside it would make me confused on the outside.  Better to be cold both without and within, as it requires much less thought."  I needed the concentration to drive myself home.

I slowly enjoyed my Frapp all the way home that night, and thankfully saw no deer waiting to attack me.  I credit the Java Chips with scaring them off.  Java Chips usually terrify any living creature at night, except me.  Yes, I can quit whenever I want to.  I just don't want to.

To the Victor goes the Frap!

Come, friends and celebrate with me.  Raise your frappuccino cups in victory, for I have conquered my adversary!  After having spent the last day in a fierce battle for supremacy, I have won.  My enemy was deceptively sneaky, and there were times when I thought I would lose the fight. It didn't help that I was unprepared for the battle and had never suspected that an ambush was lying in wait behind a seemingly easy problem.   That problem:  assembling an office desk.

Sure, it looked easy on the box.  A very simple desk, with the most advanced piece being a pull-out drawer for a keyboard and mouse.  It was much heavier than I had perceived it to be, but after I had arraigned to have it deposited into the space I would be assembling it in I thought the rest of the project would be a chunk of brownie (I don't like cake).  And the instructions insisted it would only take an hour and a half.  How hard could it be?

Never believe the lie of the instructions!  Especially when they state how easy something is to put together.  They trick you into believing them, and then they have you doubting your sanity and threatening extreme violence against an inanimate object.  After studying the pre-assembly instructions (seriously, everything is in the pre-assembly stage until it is finished, right?) I was left in a state of utter confusion.  Why weren't the screws called screws?  Where is part number 7?  What direction is FRONT really supposed to be facing?  And there is no such thing as the pre-attached plastic anchors in parts 3, 6, 7, and 4!

It was right after the second interruption of my now two hour fight that I almost threw my hands up in surrender.  I had become distracted and had glued a whole section on facing the opposite direction ( I blame that on my unexpected visitor) and the temptation to collapse into despair almost overwhelmed me.  But then I remembered who I am.  I am Samantha!  I am a smart, highly educated woman!  I fear no computer desk!  It shall not defeat me!  I attacked the assorted parts and pieces with renewed vigor, and they bowed to my will.  After another hour of gluing and assembling, I stood back and basked in my glory:  my desk was complete.  In ten minutes I had wrestled it against the wall I had chosen and had placed all my equipment onto it. I held my head up high, my proud gaze critically sweeping over my accomplishment.  It looked great!

The desk chair, which had remained in its box the entire duration of my epic battle, must have realized that resistance was futile.  Within five minutes I was sitting on it adjusting the hiegth.  I was Queen Samantha, sitting on my majestic throne regally surveying my hard won kingdom. 

After striving so long and hard, I deserved a reward.  And that Grande Java Chip Frappuccino hit the spot.  Bring on the next challenge!

I Realy Don't Hate Christmas

I tend to turn into a bit (OK, a lot) like the Grinch at Christmastime.  It isn't the actual holiday itself, but all the madness that comes along with the celebration.  There are all the reletives to visit, the various parties I must attend, and not to be forgotten (like I did last year) all the cards to mail to all the people I have any forms of contact with...  The weeks leading up to Christmas day are filled with hective rushing, and don't even get me started on the crowds at the stores.  There just doesn't seem to be enough time.  Throw Finals in the mix and it is a wonder I haven't had a serious melt-down yet.

But I really don't hate Christmas.  In fact, there are a lot of things I enjoy about Christmas.  To keep myself in "the holiday spirit", I decided to make a list of the top five things I love about Christmas.

5.  Christmas Movies  OK, I'll admit it.  I do enjoy watching those silly, sappy made-for-TV Christmas movies they play on ABC Family and the Hallmark Channel.  They make me smile.  Great flicks like Snow and Snow 2:  Brain Freeze, about Santa Claus, aka Nick Snowden on ABC Family, and a new one I saw last week called Battle of the Bulbs about two arch rivals who happen to be neighbors trying to out-decorate each other in the town's Christmas decorating contest.  There was also another one with a character called Ms Miracle, but I can't remember the titles of them or where I saw them.  And lets not forget the clasics like How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Charlie Brown Christmas, and all those old claymation ones.

4.  Commercials  Now I'm not thinking of those stupid fragrance or car commercials.  Those annoy me to no end.  No, I'm talking about the cute ones that make you laugh.  My absolute favorite has been playing for over twenty years.  I am satisfied to see that no one has had the audacity to "update" it. 




3.  Holiday Merchandise  This is the only time of the year I can purchase Twisted Peppermint at Bath and Body Works.  I absolutely love the stuff!  And lets talk for a few minutes about all the goodies at Victoria's Secret:  I am currently wiggling my toes in the absolute most wonderful house socks with softy-softness fluff inside and cotton with sticky dots on the outside to keep me from sliding in the kitchen.  All the stores come out with the coolest stuff!

2.  Snow  Not everyone will agree with me on this, but I don't care.  I do not live up north or out west.  Seeing snow really is a miracle around here.  It has been decades since this area had a white Christmas.  There is something so magical about snow.  I can sit and watch it gently float down from the heavens for hours.  The blanket covering my lawn after the snowfall is oh so pretty.  Snowmen give me the giggles, especially when they are all dressed up in hats and scarves.

1.  Jesus' Birthday  One of the traditions at my house is that we make a birthday cake for Jesus on His birthday.  Everyone celebrates the birth of Christ, whether they realize it or not.  All the traditions we observe remind us of His birth:  The gifts we give each other in rememberence of the Gift God gave us, the evergreen tree to represent everlasting life through Christ, the lights on the tree to symbolize how Jesus is the Light of the World.  And of course, the nativity scenes set up all over.  The stores might now be allowed to wish me a "Merry Christmas", but they can sell me a Nativity Scene.

Whenever I feel the stress of the season comming up on me, I think back on my list.  I remind myself that Christmas is a good thing, not a breakdown waiting to happen.  There are other things I could talk about, but my frappuccino is starting to melt, and I am sure by now your eyes are getting tired.  Plus, I have to go get ready for one more Christmas party...