Puppy Love

When Ken and I got married back in 1993, we knew that we were going to be parents right away–his mother’s Golden Retriever was due to have a litter of puppies just a few weeks after our wedding. We were both very much dog people and were raised with dogs in the house. We brought our first baby home a few days before Christmas, and the timing could not have been more perfect. That was the winter of the great ice storm that crippled most of the Mid-Atlantic, particularly the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Ken was working in Annapolis and was stranded. I was home alone–two hours from my own hometown–with no friends, no family (I still hardly knew Ken’s family), and nowhere to go. I was housebound with nobody but Tucker to keep me company. I’ve often kidded that it was that puppy who got me through the first year of being married.

Ken and I had been married just over two years when we became pregnant with Rebecca, our oldest daughter. Everyone laughed at me because along with the typical expectant mother books, I read all of the books about introducing your dog to your new baby. They laughed, they teased, and they told me I was crazy, but I remember my sister-in-law worrying that our dog just would not accept a new love in my life. As recommended in the books, the evening after Rebecca was born, my mother-in-law took home the little cap she had worn all day in the hospital and let Tucker smell it. When we arrived at the house the next day, I carried Rebecca in one arm and a large dog bone in the other. I presented Tucker with the bone, but he wasn’t interested. He was instantly smitten, and for the next nine+ years, he and Rebecca were the best of friends.

By the time Rebecca was ten, and we’d been blessed with two more little girls in our family, and we lost Tucker to cancer. It was such a tragic time for us. We all cried for so long, but I was increasingly sad. Every day that went by, I felt so lonely. Ken was away so much due to work, and the girls were all in school. I missed the affection and companionship that my first baby had provided. One day, Ken arrived home and said, “Let’s go. I’m getting you a puppy.”

We had Sunny for only five years, but he was a beautiful part of our family. He was extremely smart and well-behaved. He loved being with us, but found his true home on the boat. Unfortunately, he vanished from our yard one day and was never seen again. This time, it was Ken who took it the hardest. He’d wanted a Brittany Spaniel ever he’d had one as a child. He and Sunny were inseparable. Ken was cutting the grass one day, and Sunny and our latest addition, Misty, were playing in the yard. A frantic Misty got Ken’s attention, howling, crying, running in circles, and begging him to follow her. Ken realized Sunny was missing, and took off toward the end of the driveway, hot on Misty’s heels, but Sunny was nowhere to be found. For three days, Ken walked every inch of our small peninsular town, wading through marshes and combing through fields. We’re pretty sure someone just took her, and all we could hope was that she had a good home.

This time the heart-broken one was Misty. Sunny had been her constant companion, and she cried and moped and stared out the window for hours. It was torturous to watch her decline, day after day. She was dying of loneliness. She had literally lost her best friend. The day we brought Rosie home to Misty was the happiest day of her life.

After a long illness at the age of four, Misty developed a heart murmur. The vet told us that she could love another ten years or die the next day. He encouraged us to give her the best life we could, allow her to run and play, and just treat her like we would treat any beloved member of the family, and that’s what we did. When Misty was ten, she returned home from her favorite past-time, swimming in the creek across the road, pranced into the yard with her tongue hanging out and tail wagging, and then jolted and fell to the ground. I held her and begged her not to leave me. Like Tucker, she had become my best friend, and I couldn’t imagine life without her. She had taught me so much in those short ten years. I held her in my arms as she took her last breath. Little Rosie watched from the doorway, and I know she felt the pain as deeply as I did.

The dog we bought as a companion for Misty became my constant shadow, and I may spoil her just a little. Rosie is so sweet and so good. She just wants to spend her days by my side, always under my desk as I work and staying close by while we take our daily walks. She loves her animals and cares for them like they’re her babies. She’s been the only dog in the house for two years, and we thought she was content that way, until…

That little baby we’d brought home from the hospital over twenty-five-years ago grew up and got married and adopted a puppy of her own. The first time Rebecca brought Casper to the house, Rosie was the happiest we’d seen her in a long time. It was like she was a puppy again, running around, nipping playfully at Casper, and just having a grand time. When Casper went home, Rosie sulked. It took two days for her to be herself again, and the more she and Casper had playdates, the more we knew…

Rosie needed a sister. She needed someone to cuddle with, to play with, and to care for. She needed a companion during the day and someone to snuggle with at night. She needed someone like…


We brought Luna home yesterday. The whole process, from being notified that there may be a puppy available for us to the ride home, puppy in tow, took about 30 minutes. We hadn’t planned on pulling up to someone’s house, having a puppy thrust into our arms, and then being told to have a nice day. That’s pretty much what happened. My youngest, Morgan, and I were stunned, but I didn’t question it for a minute. Luna needed us much more than we needed her. With ribs protruding and fleas feasting, she melted into Morgan’s arms like she was at peace for the first time in the four months she’s been on earth. After baths and a quick trip to the vet, Luna and Rosie are bonding (and Casper has FaceTimed with them). This new sweetie is still timid and still adjusting, but I think she already feels the love. She’s not quite sure where her place is while I’m working, but we’ll get there. For now, I’m just happy that she has found a home, and we have found a new family member.

In 2015, Pope Francis wrote in Laudato Si’, “Eternal life will be a shared experience of awe, in which each creature, resplendently transfigured, will take its rightful place and have something to give those poor men and women who will have been liberated once and for all.” This official writing finally put to rest the two-hundred-year debate in the Church about whether or not dogs go to Heaven. For me, it’s not really about whether or not I will see my dogs, made whole and beautiful and healthy again, in Heaven. I’ve always felt that I would. No, for me, these helpless creatures we take in and make a part of lives are a tiny glimpse of what Heaven is like. Unconditional love, companionship, and healing (really, is it just a coincidence that dog is an anagram of God?). We mere mortals have been given the most precious gift. We get to feel a love that shows no bounds and weathers any storm. From stories of dogs waiting outside the hospital for their humans to be released to the ones who lie by the bedside of someone leaving this world, we witness to the smallest degree what God’s love is like. All we have to do is open our arms and accept the love being handed to us.

Be sure to catch me on one of these dates:

August 12 – The Good Wine Book and Wine Dinner –  Scossa Italian Restaurant in Easton, Maryland 6:30-9:30PM  For Info and Tickets

August 28 – Book signing – St. Mary’s Crab Festival in Leonardtown, Maryland 10:00AM-4:00PM

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What I was writing about a year ago this week: Tell Me Something Good.

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Amy Schisler is an award-winning author of both children’s books and sweet, faith-filled romance novels for readers of all ages. She lives with her husband and three daughters on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Her books, Picture MeWhispering Vines, and Island of Miracles are all recipients of Illumination Awards, placing them among the top inspirational fiction books of 2015, 2016, and 2017. Whispering Vines was awarded the 2017 LYRA Award for the best romance of 2016.  Island of Miracles has outsold all of Amy’s other books worldwide and ranked as high as 600 on Amazon. Her follow up, Island of Promise is a reader favorite. Amy’s children’s book is The Greatest Gift. The suspense novel, Summer’s Squall, and all of Amy’s books, can be found online and in stores. Her latest novel, Island of Promise, was recently awarded First Prize by the Oklahoma Romance Writer’s Association as the best Inspirational Romance of 2018 and was awarded a Gold Medal in the Independent Publisher Book Awards 2019 for Inspirational Fiction. It is the 2019 winner for Best Inspirational Fiction in the RWA Golden Quill Contest, Best Romance in the American Book Awards, and a finalist for the Eric Hoffer Award of Fiction. Amy’s 2019 work, The Devil’s Fortune, a finalist in the Writer’s Digest Self-Publishing Awards and winner of an Illumination Award, is based, in part, on Amy’s family history. The third book of Amy’s Chincoteague Island Trilogy,  Island of Hope, was released in August of 2019.

You may follow Amy on Facebook at http://facebook.com/amyschislerauthor, Twitter @AmySchislerAuth, Goodreads at https://www.goodreads.com/amyschisler and at http://amyschislerauthor.com.

Amy’s books: Crabbing With Granddad (2013), A Place to Call Home (2014), Picture Me (2015), Whispering Vines (2016), Island of Miracles (2017), Stations of the Cross Meditations for Moms (2017), The Greatest Gift (2017), Summer’s Squall (2017), Island of Promise (2018), The Devil’s Fortune (2019), Island of Hope (2019), A Devotional Alphabet (2019), Desert Fire, Mountain Rain(2020). 

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A Time to Grow

Last spring, my husband did something he should not have done. It wasn’t entirely his fault. He got caught up in yard work and wasn’t thinking and pruned all of our hydrangea bushes. Let me repeat, last spring…he pruned all of our hydrangea bushes. For anyone who knows about gardening, you know this is a big, HUGE no no! We didn’t have a single blossom all summer, not one. Kind of fitting for 2020, I guess.

All summer, I kept hoping we would see a bud, but we had nothing. It was disappointing but a powerful lesson to learn…

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Better than Chuck E. Cheese

Rebecca as an award winning actress

There was a beautiful, tear-jerking scene toward the end of last week’s This is Us (I know, right?) in which Kate calls her mother to thank her for giving the three “triplets” a childhood in which they never knew they didn’t have money. She told her mother that their homemade Halloween costumes and big, backyard birthday parties with homemade cakes “were better than at Chuck E. Cheese.”

Boy, can I relate to that, and I think my girls can, too, if not now, then when they have kids of their own.

Until my girls were in high school, I made every Halloween costume they wore. They were simple and inexpensive and were often made of materials we had around the house or purchased from the Dollar Tree. Despite all that, the girls loved them, and some even brought home trophies, winning accolades over the most expensive store-bought costumes or the hours-long, detail-oriented ones of Pinterest fame. Even thrift shop dresses and grandma’s old stole can turn an ordinary girl into an Academy Award Winning Actress (who traded her Oscar for a Prettiest Costume trophy).

My mother taught me to a make what you can, buy what you must, and use more imagination than money, but the key ingredient was always love. Mom loved us, and she loved showing us how much she loved us, not by breaking the bank, but by putting her heart into whatever she did (and still does).

And something else Mom taught me is something that I can’t help but wonder if so many moms have forgotten in the past several years: The more you spend on something…

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Hidden Treasure

Here is my bargain of the night from last week’s local auction that Ken and I always go to…

There were two big boxes, one completely sealed, and one open just enough to see that there was some kind of plant inside. Nobody wanted them, so I thought, heck, I’ll take them. I held up my number and got them for $6.

The next afternoon, I opened the boxes, and guess what…

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Hope, Affliction, and Prayer

I’ve put off writing this for a long time – several weeks in fact. It’s not because I’m uncomfortable talking about it but because I’m sick of hearing about it and talking about it and thinking about it. I’m writing this only because I’d like to start a conversation that comes from the people and not from the doctors. That’s not to say that I don’t believe what the doctors have to say but because I don’t believe they are talking to each other about what they are hearing from us, the patients. Maybe they are, but too many times in the past couple months I’ve heard, “My doctor has never heard of this,” or “My doctor says it’s not a symptom,” or “My doctor looks at me like I’m crazy.”

We’re not crazy. We’re just hurting, confused, and looking for answers.

Maybe if we can start a conversation about what we’re experiencing, we can find the answers that everyone needs and hopes for. I know that’s my hope and also my prayer.

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In Order to Form a More Perfect Union…

This morning, I hugged and kissed my baby goodbye and watched her drive away, beginning her five-and-a-half hour trip and fourth semester of college. I told her all of the standard things a parent should say, “Don’t speed,” “Be careful and pay attention to the road,” “Make good choices,” “Study hard,” and “Have fun.”

As I watched her go, I thought about the other goings on of the day–those taking place across the bridge, as we say here on the Shore. Today, we do what our Founding Fathers intended for us to do–we welcome a new administration to lead our country. I thought about the implications of that transition and about how my daughter will be impacted by our country’s leadership and how it will impact her.

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A Little Bit More

When I was a little girl, I loved all of the Christmas specials. It was a big deal in our family when they came on TV. We all gathered in our basement recroom, the popcorn popper whirring the kernels around in the melted butter, the scent filling the air, as we waited in anticipation of shows that could only be watched when they aired that one time each year. My favorites were always The Little Drummer Boy and The Year Without a Santa Claus. I loved the latter because it proved that nothing could stop Christmas from coming–not a blizzard, not a heatwave, not a feud between two warring brothers, not Santa being sick, or lack of belief in the world. Mrs. Claus was determined that Christmas would happen no matter what.

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2020 – A Year to Be Thankful

2020 has been quite a year. What started with Katie’s Homecoming, my trip to Houston to see friends, Rebecca’s law review presentation, and my surprise 50th birthday party, took a sharp turn into no social events, no in-person school events, and no family gatherings. I keep hearing how bad the year has been, and I certainly don’t want to jinx anything with two months left to go, but I realized yesterday that 2020 was a pretty darn good year.

Every year, I make photo calendars for my family. I plug in as many pictures as I can find using my own camera roll, social media, and photos sent to me by others. I highlight different people each month, based on birthdays and anniversaries. I make sure I cover all of the special events each person took part in over the course of the year.

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Have Your Cake…

Did you know that today is National Dessert Day? Yep, it’s the day on which you can indulge in a decadent concoction with the knowledge that you are just doing your part to celebrate the happiness that can be found in a bowl of fudge ripple or a slice of blueberry lemon cake. It’s your chance to bake something sweet or order dessert or…

Take the family to the ice cream parlor. Because, while there’s nothing quite as satisfying as a perfectly torched plate of Bananas Foster, I’d like to suggest that it isn’t the dessert itself that we love and take pleasure in. It’s the people we share it with and the occasion on which we share.

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Your Message to the World

Today, it seems that there is this great desire to be somebody, to gain the praise of millions, to become YouTube or Tik Tok famous. Everyone wants to make their mark on the world, be it for a moment or a lifetime. I think it’s quite natural to want to make a lasting mark, to leave behind a legacy, to create a name that will be remembered forever. We all want to believe that there is more to our lives than our meager, daily existence. We want to feel that we’ve delivered some kind of message to the world.

We’re all looking for a way to stand out, to be noticed for something, to be remembered for something.

But is it possible to make a name for ourselves, to deliver a message to the world, without ever becoming famous?

I truly believe it is, and here’s how we can do just that…

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