Sunday, December 20, 2009

Signing and how we talk to our closest family members...

When I think of signing I get all warm and fuzzy, not sad at all… you ask why?
Well, I will tell you why…when our boys were small our number one son was involved in scouting, from cub scouts to weebelos to eventually Boy Scouts, and our younger son was dragged along, not that unwillingly for the ride, so to speak. Hubby and I both became quite involved ourselves since both of us had also been scouts as children. He became scouting coordinator for our entire county of Ocean in good ole NJ, and I was an assistant when number one was a cubby and a weebelo. One of the things we learned in scouting is signing for the deaf, and so we all learned the alphabet, and a few simple phrases, nothing fancy. But it was such a fond memory of their growing up time I had to relay it to you all.

Coincidentally, as a deputy Hubby became an Explorer senior advisor which is also for scouting but through the Sheriff’s Office, and prior to that he sat on the board of a non-profit called H.I.P., hearing impaired persons. An organization that would help people in their locale finds aids to function well in society and to assist others to understand. They also offered a signing class, which Hubby thoughtfully signed us up for, but unfortunately my hand surgery was scheduled too close to the class and we had to back out; this was back in August of 2001, sadly we never ever did take the class.

But signing has always been someway incorporated into our lifestyles…our younger son used sign language to train our first Yorkie rightfully so named Benji, and he was brilliant and could do whatever our son wanted him to with just a movement of his hand this way or that. Over the years other canines in our family have not been as sharp, although I am not yet giving up on Skipper, who I fondly compare on occasion to a Marley-type dog at times. I have started to try hand signals with him, even the ones I have altered to be communicatively original, maybe not that original.
To tell him I love him, I point to my eye, then my heart, and then to him, simple!
OK, I see that isn’t original at all!
Oh well, I do think though that I may be getting through to him, sort of?
He is so very lovable, its hard to be strict with him, since he seems to only misbehave when company arrives, stays or leaves…I know we have to do something!

He’s about five and half years old now, and I was sure with time he would calm down, but he hasn’t. Skipper loves people and so he jumps up on them and feels he must kiss each and every one of them! He’s never vicious just overwhelmingly lovable, as I said.
He was neutered at one year’s old, for any of you who are wondering if that could be the problem. You know Benji (was a seven pound dog), and never was neutered and lived fourteen years, maybe we should all rethink this neutering thing, after all Skipper, at fifteen pounds has never gotten out or loose at all in all his five and half years, and I wonder… that’s all I am saying… maybe that was a mistake? Now I am going to have all the spay and neutering people up in arms about the over population of the domestic animal kingdom and I can’t agree more! It’s a crisis that is too sad for words, but what happened to responsible ownership? I know, I know sadly no one is that responsible anymore.

What I do know is that non speaking communication is exhilarating and not ordinary, and something that perhaps I am willing to still learn in my future. I will put it on my bucket list, since I think it is doable.

Good night to all and to all count those blessings and we will too!

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