Getting There is a Nightmare

With a title like this, I don’t mean to imply that getting to Madrid is always a nightmare.  I’m sure in most cases it goes a great deal easier than my experience.  I also need to point out that it wasn’t really even the Spanish side that made things stressful.  Actually, most of my problems began before I ever left U.S. Soil.

We all Knew This Wouldn’t be Easy

                When a process that is supposed to take three months takes six, could I really have expected moving day to go smoothly.  For those of you who don’t know, the process of acquiring VISAs, work permits, and all the other proper documentation has not been easy for our family.  We first made the decision to move at the end of July and spent the next seven months trying to make that happen.  During that stretch there were many false hopes and several times when one of the two of us (my wife and I) considered calling the whole thing off.  In the end though, cooler heads prevailed and we decided to persevere though all the delays and frustrations.  With all of that finally behind us, I’d hoped to catch a break on the actual moving part.  While I didn’t catch that little bit of buena suerte (good luck) at least I’m here.  What follows is the best description my jet-lagged mind can come up with.

Paperwork, we don’t need no stinkin paperwork.

                On Thursday March 3, Kelly, Ben, Buddy (dog), and I made our way to the cargo area of Cleveland Hopkins Airport.  The area itself is located on Cargo Rd. (big surprise), just south of the airport’s main terminal off of State Rt. 237.  The building resembles a simple warehousing facility with a main counter front and center as you enter the building, and a glass walled office to the left. 

                Our first surprise that morning came when we were informed, almost immediately, that the kennel we had purchased for Buddy was too small.  This was despite the fact that we purchased an extra large kennel for a dog that is large, but certainly not extra large at 65 pounds.  The only reason we even went with the extra large was that we thought we were upsizing to meet the regulations.   I’m convinced that really large dogs, like mastiffs or great danes, must be required to travel in a kennel the size of a tractor trailer.

                Anyways, our kennel that we had just purchased for $120 wouldn’t work, but they just so happened to have a larger one in the back that they would love to sell us for $250.  Cue your best cash register noise as we recognize this as our first unexpected cost.  Of course with my flight leaving in less than three hours, we had no choice.  Additional expense = $130.

                After we were done with the whole kennel fiasco, we headed into the office to take care of the paperwork and send Buddy on his way.  Not so fast.  It turns out that despite going through their requirements with a fine tooth comb, we were missing one very important document.  Our missing document caused the ladies behind the counter to huddle as if they were contemplating the hidden secrets of the lost ark.  Eventually they returned to us and said they couldn’t ship Buddy without the necessary form.  It would have been nice if they would have stressed the importance of said form on one of the multiple phone calls we had prior to showing up with less than three hours to the flight.

                At this point though we did have a little bit of good fortune, a couple of frantic phone calls to the West Main Veterinary Clinic produced the necessary paperwork and Buddy was back on schedule to fly.  I need to give a special thanks here to Doctor Gary Evanich and his staff for making this happen.  They were nice enough to drop what they were doing and fax the required paperwork. 

                Paperwork cleared, we moved onto the all important part of the transaction where the money changes hands.  Again we were in for a surprise.  Turns out the new kennel was heavier than the old one, pushing Buddy’s overall shipping weight over the century mark and jacking up our price by nearly $600.  So if you are keeping track at home, we are up to $850 more than the airline estimate.  Unfortunately these people know that they have you left with no other choice.  Out came the credit card and Buddy was carted off to the cargo plane.

Can we let him fly?

                These are words you never want to hear when your dog has just been loaded onto an airplane and is due to arrive in a foreign country in 15 hours.  Can you say worst case scenario?

                Shaken, but relieved that Buddy was on his way, we headed to the main terminal.   By now we were cutting it close on time.  In less than two hours, my flight took off, and Kelly had to make the return trip home to pick up our oldest son after school.  You could say I got a curbside drop off.  I would say that I was lucky she stopped the car.

 On my own at the front door of the terminal I headed in to get boarding passes etc…  Everything here started out okay until I was informed by the man behind the counter that I couldn’t fly.  Because I was travelling by myself to a foreign nation, I was required to have a return ticket. Now it looked like Buddy might be the only one arriving in Madrid on Friday morning.

                Luckily I had a creative sales agent and he was able to find a loophole in the policy that let me travel without a VISA and on a one way ticket.   Even better, there were no additional charges for the discovery of this loophole.  Frankly I’m not even sure what it was.  Once the counter rep told me I could fly, I just shook my head yes and grabbed my boarding passes. 

                Just check in at the Continental Quickpak Counter at the Cargo Facility.  They will get you all taken care of.

                The flight itself was uneventful.  I don’t have any great stories of running through the airport ala O.J. Simpson hurdling suitcases and executing perfect spin moves on flight attendants.  All went well and I arrived in Madrid about 7am local time, 1am Ohio time.  Customs was a breeze for once and I found myself standing at the baggage claim.  Here was where it hit me that I was in a foreign country, where I don’t speak the language, by myself.  It was at once both an exhilarating and terrifying moment.

                Things continued to go well until I headed to the cargo facility in my rental car.  Madrid’s cargo area is NOTHING and I mean NOTHING like the one at Cleveland.  I was told before leaving that I only needed to go to the cargo facility and that I could check in with the Continental Cargo desk.  I found the area just fine, but there was no Continental Cargo building and when I went the large multi-story building with the words “Area De Carga” on the outside, I was greeted by two very nice ladies whose English was about as good as my Spanish and who had never heard of Continental.  I spent the next half an hour driving up and down the Avenida Central looking for any sign of Continental Airlines.  That’s when I caught a break.   I noticed on one of the signs that it listed cargo for about a dozen airlines, including many American airlines. 

                When I went in to the main office I was almost instantly relieved as the sign on the inner door listed Continental.  It would have been nice if Continental had told me this at some point in the process. After struggling through the language barrier with the first clerk “Necessito recoger mi perro” (I need to pick up my dog), I was helped by an angel of a woman who explained everything to me.  After several delays and another language butchering conversation, this time to the office of Importacion, I had the paperwork approved and Buddy and I set out for our new home.  I don’t know who was more relieved.

Home at last.

                In early afternoon Buddy and I arrived at our new home, some 8000 miles and 24 hours from our Ohio home.  While I can’t speak for Buddy, I’m excited about the opportunities that Madrid holds for our family over the next two years. Although the arrival was anything but easy, the important part is that we are here and that in about seven hours we will be reunited as a family when Kelly arrives with the boys.  Stay tuned, hopefully the next few days will bring pictures of our new home and a little bit about the area we live in. 

Hasta Luego (until later)

The Final Countdown

Europe "The Final Countdown"
The Final Countdown doo doo do doo doo doot doo do!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AyggY_R3jU8

Cue up the cheesy synth pop 80's classic and crank it up to ten. Ladies and gentlemen, the day has finally arrived.  In six days Buddy and I head to the airport and hop on a flight to Madrid. 

"The Warrior" by Scandal (with Patty Smyth on vocals)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pT9t5nkZn8I

Yet another 80's classic and a perfect description of what I'm going to feel like when I arrive on Friday morning.  As it turns out, Continental airlines will not fly pets on weekends because of concerns over customs.  This becomes a real problem when your plane tickets are booked for Friday with an arrival of Saturday.  Oops.  Guess we should've booked the flight for the dog before ours.  So $150 later, I'm on flight the day before my family.  I'll arrive, by myself, in Madrid the day before my translator (i.e. wife).

"Mad World" Tear for Fears (although I prefer the Gary Jules version check it out here.) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hYY-a0_Bb9Y&feature=fvst

The situation when I arrive will resemble a script for an improvisational comedy.  Take small town American to large European capital.  Give him tasks: 

1)Get through customs
2) rent car
3) travel to cargo facility
4) pick up pooch
5) drive to apartment he's never been to.

"Small Town"  John "Don't forget the Cougar" Mellancamp
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0CVLVaBECuc

 Film American as he bumbles through tasks and stumbles over Spanish language.

 Hilarity ensues.

Even once all of these things are done (provided I'm not curled up in a fetal position in a dark corner Madrid's Barajas Airport) I'm headed to an apartment with no food, either human or dog, and only the basic necessities.  No one ever said this was going to be easy.  After Kelly arrives, things will continue their hectic march.  We need to get all of the essentials for a house, furniture, food, etc. We also have to deal with two jet-lagged kids set to start their new school on Monday.

When it's all said and done, I'll survive Friday and the days, weeks and months after that.  I'm sure this blog will be better for all the stories and that's the point, isn't it?  Travel shouldn't be something that is always comfortable.  Travel is about putting yourself in new situations and growing.  It's about seeing and doing and being exposed to new and different ways of doing things.  It's about being open minded and accepting that other cultures may be better at something than Americans are.  While we live in a great country, that doesn't mean that everything we do is better. If that's the case, then why do so many of our great ideas originate in other places?

 If travel was only about floating hotels (cruise ships) and all-inclusive luxury resorts with ten-foot razor wire fences, then I'm not interested.  Travel is about picking a location and exploring.  It's walking into a pub at three in the afternoon or buying something handmade from a street seller.  When in Rome do as the Romans do, don't go to Burger King.

So on Friday my adventure begins.  I'm sure it will be anything but boring.

(As a sidenote, I don't really feel any special connection to 80's music.  Coming of age in the early 90's I find it more nostalgic than anything.  I reminds me of middle school dances, the Lighthouse in Tuscarawas County, and listening to the Hot Eight at Eight on Canton radio.)

A Happy Ending for Buddy

Buddy swimming at Healing Waters

Our family is incredibly lucky.  We are blessed to have the means to make a difference in Buddy's life.

The road to recovery for Buddy has not been an easy one.  After that very first day, Buddy has managed to get better almost daily.  From watching him struggle to stand, to being able to take him for walks again this week, he reminds me nearly every day how resilient and determined our canine companions can be.

From where I last left off, Buddy has made two return trips to the vet.  The first was to get his stitches out exactly two weeks after the surgery.  This visit brought us a huge relief in our home beacuse for the first time in nearly two weeks we were able to leave the house as a family.  Prior to having his stitches out we were scared to death that Buddy would put his determinaton towards removing the stitches himself.  Had this happened it would've meant another $150 to put the stitches back in and another two weeks of watching him constantly.  Buddy's reward would have been two more weeks in an Elizabethan collar. He must have sensed this as well, because thankfully he chose to leave his stitches alone. 

After the stitches were out,  Doctor Owen (Buddy's surgeon) recommended we get Buddy into water rehabilitation.  We took him to Healing Waters in Canton.  At Healing Waters, they specialize in helping dogs deal with the joint pain both before and after they have surgery.  Buddy's 1/2 hour sessions consist of massage and swimming with two therapists in a 90 degree pool.  Not too bad for a mutt born in a ditch.  While not cheap, the cost for these sessions was $120 for five appointments, they certainly have aided in Buddy's recovery.  He will have his last appointment tomorrow and we've learned that despite being mostly Labrador Retriever, Buddy does not like to swim.

That brings us to Buddy's most recent vet visit.  On Monday we went back to see Doctor Owen and he was very happy with Buddy's progress.  In fact, he is doing so well that he has been cleared to travel with us to Spain.  In less than three weeks Buddy will board a plain to Madrid and begin his new adventure. 

We could not have hoped for a better outcome. 

Thanks so much for reading my blog and stay tuned.  There should be plenty of updates and pictures from the land of bullfights, paella and ham flavored chips.

Buddy and Ben



A Crippling Revelation: After Surgery

The Big Day

I dropped Buddy off at 7:30 am on January 18th.  I then drove home feeling terrible.  It's interesting how even when you are doing what is  for the best, you still feel like crap doing it.

For his part Buddy was as chipper as ever the morning of his surgery.  He went through his usual routing of waking up the boys before heading downstairs to hit the bathroom.  Today was a little different though as my mother had come to stay for the week to help after Buddy's surgery.  She is an avid dog lover and former vet tech, so she was perfect to come and help us get through the first few days.  Buddy greeted her too, all with his signature enthusiasm and pounding tail.

With our morning routine out of the way, Buddy and I headed off to the Viking Animal Hospital in North Canton.  The hospital and its main vet, Doctor Terry Owen, are well known for their quality care and especially good work in surgical procedures.  What surprised me when I dropped him off was how quick everything went.  I was in and out in less than five mintues.  There was no big goodbye, just a happy dog and a distraught owner.

The rest of the day went by fairly well.  I worked in the morning and waited for a phone call.  Around noon the vet called to tell me everything went ok.  Our first hurdle had been crossed.  I spent the rest of the afternoon split between an 11 mile run, playing with Ben (my youngest son), and reading.  Time passed slowly, but evetually we made it to 4:30pm.  It was time to pick up Buddy.

Arriving back at the Viking Animal Hospital we waited for a few minutes before being taken back to a consultation room where we met with Dr. Owen.  He explained how the procedure went, and also told us what to expect and about all the medicines Buddy will be on in the coming weeks.  He also told us something rather shocking.  Dr. Owen, who has been practicing veterinary medicine for over 30 years, said that this particular case of Hip Dysplaysia is the worst he's even seen.  As bad as this is, it actually made me feel a little better.  Had we not made the decision to have this procedure done, Buddy would've had a very short time with us before the pain would've become severe enough that he would have to be put to sleep.  I was also relieved when Dr. Owen told us that Buddy's prognosis wouldn't change, regardless off the severity of his Hip Dysplaysia.

Buddy with his stitches.  He has matching incisions on both hips.  The wrap on his foot is a slow release pain patch.

The First Night Home

Our first night home with Buddy was pretty rough.  Hopefully this will be the worst it gets.  Early in the evening things weren't too bad.  Buddy was still drugged up. He spent most of the evening sleeping on the floor with his eyes rolled back in his head.  This I would find later was preferable to what we dealt with in the middle of the night. 

The difficult part started a little while later when the drugs started to wear off.  My mother and I ended up taking shifts as Buddy passed in and out of sleep.  He would sleep for half an hour to forty minutes and then wake up and cry for a half an hour or more.  My mother sat with his from 11pm until about 3am and I got up at 3am and sat with him until morning.  In the midst of his crying, he also mad several attempts at getting up.  These resulted in yelps, louder cries, and inevitable failure.

At about 4:30am though we had a minor breakthrough.  Up until this point Buddy had not eaten anything but ice chips, but in the middle of the night, as I sat alone with him, I was able to hand feed him a cup and half of his kibble. I even got him to drink some water from his bowl.  It's moments like these that build bonds between humans and animals.  I've never felt a stronger connection with him than I did that moment.  In light of all the sadness and pain the day brought, this one bright point will provide a moment I'll remember for the rest of my life.

As I write this, it's been about 24 hours since Buddy's surgery and he's resting comfortably.  I'll try to update more as he progresses with the good and the bad.   Thanks for reading.

A Crippling Revelation II - A New Year Brings New Hope

What I really wanted was a family pet and a running companion.  Don't get me wrong, I never intended for Buddy to do 20 milers and run daily with me.  What I wanted was for Buddy to be able to do runs of five or six miles twice a week.

Our days of running began just after Buddy celebrated his first birthday.  We started slow, running at his pace, and accomplished a mile or so on our first run together.  From there we worked our way up to our last run of five miles on December 23rd.  This will probably be our last run together and in all honesty, it couldn't have been better. 

After going to work in the morning, Buddy and  headed out to the Nickelplate Trail in Louisville.  It was one of those cool, crisp, December afternoons.  Snow fell lightly on a snowcovered trail.  The trail itself is 2.5 miles on an abandoned railroad that has been resurfaced as an all-purpose trail.  The suface is good and the trail quiet, so it was a perfect spot for our afternoon run.

I'll never forget the sheer joy I watched in Buddy as we made the turn at the halfway point.  Anyone that has ever run with a dog knows what I'm talking about.  Ears swinging up and down,tongue hanging out to the side, he cut quite a silhouette with his shiny black coat against a backdrop of snow.  It's a pleasant memory I'll have of Buddy for the rest of my life.

The problems all started after that run.  Whether he hurt himself on the run, or when he slipped getting back into the car I'll never know, either way I noticed when we got home that he was limping.  I assumed that maybe he has simply pulled something until I felt his hip.  Buddy's left hip was swollen and stuck out noticeably more than his right.  Like any pet owner we hoped that he had only pulled a muscle and that the hip was the consequence of swelling.  By Monday the 27th, it was obvious that problem wouldn't simply go away.

On Tuesday the 28th,  I set up a vet appointment and expected the worse.  I was pretty sure that, at the very least, Buddy has partially seperated his hip.  I knew my fears weren't unfounded when the vet felt his hip, remarked "Wow" and immediately took him back for an X-ray.  When he returned about five minutes later, the news was even worse than I'd feared.  He told me that Buddy was suffering from severe hip dysplasia, even more shocking was when he told me, "I would attempt to pop his hip back into the socket, but there really isn't a socket for me to put it back into."

Burdened with this diagnosis and emotionally struggling to keep things together, Buddy and I accepted a disk of his X-ray and the name of a surgeon as we headed to the front desk to pay the $100 for his visit and the grim news.  I'd like to claim that I'm a big tough guy and that Buddy is only a "dog", but I can't lie.  I lost it when we got to the car.  In one short year this crazy canine that destroyed my house, knocked down the kids, and ruined at least three of my shirts.  He had also truly touched my heart.  Dogs do a funny thing to you.  They slowly work their way into your heart, not by trying too, but by simply being themselves.  Their love is so genuine and without boundries or conditions.  They follow you, make you smile and are always happy and eager to greet you when you return home.  For all of these things they work their way into our busy lives and become an crucial part of our families.  Now I worried that I would lose all of this.

On New Years Eve my wife, Kelly, and I took Buddy to a specialist.  We hoped for the best and feared the worst.  The surgeon and head of the Viking Animal Hospital is a vet by the name of Terry Owens who has long practised medicine and is very well regarded as a surgeon.  After only a quick look at Buddy's X-rays he quickly concurred with Dr. Evanovich in Louisville.  He had severe Hip Dysplasia, but Doctor Owens thought that something could be done.

Dr. Owens offered us two solutions  The first was an incredibly expensive procedure that involved a full hip replacement using artifical hip joints.  The procedure involved an extensive recovery, prostetic joints, a life of anti-rejection medicine, and about $3000 per leg of cost.  On the upside, Buddy would eventually be almost as good as new.  He would be able to run again and would experience no pain once the joints had healed.

Our second option was a salvage operation called Femoral Head Excision.  In this surgery, the femoral head is removed and the resulting scar tissue forms an artificial joint allowing the dog a painfree normal life but limits the function of the joint so that the dog's gait may be effected and they may "bunny hop" when they run.  Unlike the full hip replacement, Femoral Head Excision carries a much smaller pricetag.  The cost to do both hips is approximately $1800.

In all honesty, I don't think that full hip repalcement was ever really an option for Buddy.  He's not a show dog, he's not even a purebred.  What he is, is a family pet.  If we can give him the chance at a painfree, fullfilling life, that's what we will do.  We made the decision to go ahead with the Femoral Head Excision. 

On January the 18th, Buddy will have both of his hips operated on.  He will be completely unable to walk for a week, and will struggle for about six weeks to reach some shade of normal.  The vet expects a full recovery, or at least the best results to be apparent within twelve weeks. 

In the coming weeks I will continue to update this blog about Buddy's surgery and the process of recovery.  If you are a friend and reading this, I thank you for taking the time and for your concern for our family and our dog.  If you've stumbled upon this article because of the tags I've attached to it, I hope this is helpful.

A Crippling Revelation: Dealing with Hip Dysplasia in our Dog

It's funny how blogging has come to resemble life.  When I sarted this blog, it was my attempt to chronicle a period of my life that would be spent studying, learning and absorbing life in Madrid and Spanish history and culture.  Instead, as I sit here, I'm writing yet another entry that has nothing to do with Spain.  Yet like life, the topic of this entry will effect my life and eventual removal to Spain.Two days ago my family learned of another challenge that we will facing in the coming days and months.  On Tuesday afternoon we learned that our four-legged housemate has severe Hip Dysplaysia in both hips.

 Buddy has been living with us for just over a year now and has carved out a place in all of our hearts.  He is a 17month old Labrador Retriever mix with great temperment and a constanly wagging tail.  We knew we had a winner with him the first time my five year-old sat on his back and pulled a rawhide chew out of his mouth.  Buddy didn't bite, growl, bark, or even react.  He just sat there like nothing had happened.  A minute later Ben gave the chew back and Buddy resumed his former position. 

Buddy's life began like thousands of other dogs who find themselves on the street from birth.  In August of 2009, he was born in a ditch along the side of the road.  His mother was a stray who was grossly underweight.  Depsite being a Chocolate Lab mix, she weighed only 38 pounds after giving birth to her puppies.  Also tragic was her advanced age.  They estimated her age at eight years when she had this litter of puppies. 

Buddy's first bit of luck in life happened when the woman who owned the aforementioned ditch took pity on the old Lab and her tiny puppies.  She took the litter in, raising them for a week, then making the phone call that would change all the puppies lives for the good.

At a very young age, Buddy and his litter mates were taken in by a wonderful woman named Denise who operates the Save a Mom Pregnant Dog Rescue.  Save a Mom Rescue is a gem of an operation located in East Sparta, Ohio, just south of Canton.  She takes in pregant dogs and dogs that have recently had puppies, with the sole goal of adopting out both the moms and the babies.  In many cases, the dogs that Denise saves would be euthanized at another facility.

Buddy spent his first few months at Save a Mom before being adopted for the first time.  His first family had come with the intention of adopting one of his siblings, but ended up going home with both of the remaining puppies instead of just one.  I know very little about the six weeks that Buddy spent at that other home, although under their care he wasn't Buddy at all, but instead went by the name Milo.  In the end though, Milo wasn't a good fit for their family.  After six weeks time, Buddy's first owner called, in tears, and said she needed to return  one of the puppies.  She said simply that two lab pups was one too many.  So Milo, or Buddy, ended up right where he started.

Our relationship with Buddy began on a rainy Saturday a week and a half before Christmas 2009.  For a little over a year before that I had been working on my wife about getting a puppy.  I used all the typical arguements about kids and puppies, security, etc... and finally she caved and agreed to go look with us.  A week earlier I had begun asking around, which meant telling my Mother I was thinking about getting a dog, and had been referred to Denise and Save a Mom from the Tuscarawas County Humane officer, Karen Slough.  So by that Saturday, everything was in place and we went off to meet Buddy/Milo, a energetic, loving four and half month old lab mix.

The rest of Buddy's story for his first year with us is pretty typical, every year thousands of families adopt puppies and deal with the trials and tribulations involved in a dog's first year.  To summarize, he had accidents in the house, destroyed and tried to eat the kid's toys, succeeded in eating the drywall in the upstairs hallway of our home, and managed to turn our daily routine upside down.  During all of this he managed to melt our hearts and become a cherished member of our family.

In the end, I guess that's why dealing with this is so painful.  Dogs are like family members, or in their lingo, members of the pack.  When the vet told us his diagnosis, it was like hearing dire news about one of my children.

 Our next visit is scheduled for Friday morning.  During this consultation we will find out what options we have to move forward.  After that I'll try to update this blog with a summary of our intitial vet visit and our meeting with the specialist.  Whether it ever gets there or not, it's my hope that someone else dealing with this issue will run across this and better know what to expect with their own dog. 

Until Friday.....
  

Saving Santa

On the last day of November, I had the pleasure of some very interesting company.  During the afternoon, here at the museum I was visited not by three ghosts, but by two wonderful donors.  Don Whittingham is great guy in his mid-forties healthy smile and twinkle in his eye that becomes even more apparent when he talks about history.  Especially about Dover’s history and what he calls the old guard. It was a member of this old guard that I had the pleasure of meeting

Don Whittingham works for Aquablue Company in New Philadelphia and is passionate about many of the same things I am. Pastimes like music, art, and travel.  I first met Don last Spring when he stopped into the office one day with artifacts from the Ress Cigar Shop that once sat in downtown Dover.  Don acquired the items from his friend Jim who was the proprietor of the cigar shop’s son.  It wasn’t five minutes into the conversation before Don offered the museum the artifacts and several others he didn’t have with him.  A month or two later he showed up on a rainy weekday with a trailer. 

Inside the trailed were two of the more interesting objects the museum has accessed in recent memory.  The first was the original humidor that sat on the counter in the cigar shop.  In shape it resembles a kitchen cabinet with three large doors that all open horizontally.  The difference between this humidor and a typical cabinet is that the humidor is covered in white porcelain tiles the way a snake it covered in scales.  Unlike those on a snake, the tiles do not allow the humidor to move freely, even when it’s being pulled or pushed by two grown men.  This unique piece measures approximately four feet long by two or three tall and at least a foot deep.

Using a dolly, we were able to get this very heavy treasure off the trailer and into carriage house.  Here it would remain for the next few months until we could arrange for its eventual removal into the Canal Exhibit in the upper story of our Carriage House.  As a side note, this feat was accomplished by Curator Kim Jurkovic’s husband and brothers who I’m convinced must moonlight as circus strongmen.

In addition to the humidor, yet another treasure was tucked inside the plain black trailer.  Peeking out from a dark corner was the jolly old elf we all recognize, Santa Claus.  This particular Santa Claus stands about five feet tall with the typical stocky build and thick beard, not of the whitest snow, but more the color of snow that sat by the side of the road for a day or two.  Once Santa was inside and under better light, we realized just what a find he was.

 Santa is not only jolly, but also animatronic.  Even with his pre-historic (1960’s) wiring he still waves like something out of the Higbees window at the beginning of A Christmas Story.  Unlike the toys displayed in that, the greatest of all Christmas movies, Santa was in his heyday surrounded by poinsettias, not Red Rider and his trusty air rifle. 

Don’s Santa made its debut all the way back in the early 1960’s when it was displayed in the front picture window of the Endres Floral Company.  Every year children from throughout the community looked forward to the day shortly after Thanksgiving when Santa would arrive.  When he did, he was framed front and center where he appeared to be negotiating a field of brilliant red poinsettias. In the picture window Santa remained, to the delight of those ages 4-10, until Christmas Eve.  On Christmas Eve, Santa performed his greatest magic trick, he disappeared. 

Those on their way to family gatherings on Christmas Morning were greeted not by the smiling, waving, Santa, but by a nativity scene.  As everyone knows, Santa couldn’t possibly remain because by 9:30am on Christmas morning he’s comfortably relaxing on a beach sipping a Mai Tai.

After his extended career at Endres, where he worked the window from the early sixties through the early nineties, Santa comfortably retired to the dining room of Dover resident,  Jim Ress.   To say Jim is an interesting guy would be like saying that Citizen Kane is a pretty good movie.  If you are to remain in a small town, it would be difficult to top the life that Jim has lived.  Until his move to the nursing home recently, Santa remained in Jim’s home on the corner of 12^th street and Wooster Avenue.

Our part in this story began, as I mentioned above, when Santa arrived inside the safe confines of a trailer in the Spring of 2010. This brings us back to the whole purpose of this rant, article, whatever you want to call it.  In any other town our forty year old Santa is just that, a beat up old relic with out of date wiring and a matted grey beard.  Here though he’s different.  In the friendly confines of the Reeves Home Ballroom, Santa is again at the height of his powers.  He’s important not because of what he is, but what he represents, a part of our collective memory as a community.  He acquires value not for his actual monetary worth, but because he’s nostalgic. 

He means something to the community and now he’s in a place where his value and influence will continue to grow.  I can’t think of anything better a museum can do for its community.

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On a completely unrelated note, things are still progressing on the move to Spain.  We are currently waiting on the work permit to be approved (it was supposed to be done Dec. 15).   Once we have the work permit, the Visas should follow and our adventure can begin.

Pictured are the author and Jim Ress standing in front of the Ress Cigar Store humidor.