Peg Kehret Blog

Several recent letters asked me if I miss Minnesota. My answer is, no.  I don’t miss California, either, and I lived there longer than I lived in Minnesota. I don’t get asked about California because I have not written much about my experiences while I was there.

I have fond memories of my years in Minnesota and California. I was happy in both states but I don’t miss them because I’m happy now, too, here in Washington. I’ve always liked every place I ever lived because contentment comes from the inside, not from a location.

Another reader wrote that since so much of my personality seems to have been shaped by my polio experience, she wondered if, given a chance to live my life again, I would choose to still have polio. Again my answer is no, only this time it’s a big fat capital NO!

The original polio experience lasted about a year. At the end of that time I was emotionally stronger, more independent, more aware of what’s important, than I was at the beginning. There were many positive results to help balance the terrible fear, pain, and loneliness that I endured.

The negatives, however, keep coming. Post-polio syndrome limits me in myriad ways half a century after I was “over” the disease. It is frustrating to attend a granddaughter’s gymnastics meet and be unable to climb the steps into the bleachers in order to see well. Neck pain limits my computer time. Travel is increasingly difficult. The school visits that used to be such fun are now so fatiguing that I have quit doing them. There are dozens of small difficulties every day, all a result of the late effects of polio.

This is not to suggest that I am unhappy, because I’m not. I have an interesting, fulfilling, and joyful life - but it would be even better without polio.

Another question that’s been asked lately is, “How did you meet your husband?” The complete answer is in my book, Five Pages a Day: A Writer’s Journey.  The synopsis is that we both signed up to work at a church food booth at a county fair, and were assigned the same shift.

Many kids ask about favorites. What’s my favorite animal? I don’t have one. How could I choose? If I said “cats” Lucy’s feelings would be hurt, and if I don’t even want to think what Pete would do if I said that dogs are my favorite.  I like all of the animals. 

I don’t have a favorite color, either. For favorite food, I usually reply that it’s a chocolate milk shake - but on a cold, snowy day, I’d choose hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and nutmeg.

This last question has been popping up now and then for years: How many more books are you going to publish? That is a good question, and I have no idea what the answer is. There’s a new book coming out in November (Stolen Children from Dutton Children’s Books) and I have a proposal under consideration and another book partially written, plus several folders full of ideas that keep resurfacing every few months. How many of them will eventually become books is anybody’s guess. All I know for sure is that I will be writing today, and every day that I am able to do so. Some days I write for many hours, some days for only a few minutes. Some days the writing occurs only in my head and doesn’t get transferred to the keyboard until a later time. It depends on what else is happening in my life.

So I can’t promise any specific number of books, but I can promise that I will continue to work, at whatever pace I can manage. The books will get written, one page at a time.

Congratulations to Uno, the beagle who won top honors in the Westminster Dog Show.  I loved the comment from the judge: “Snoopy would be proud.”

 A few years ago, Carl and I rescued a beagle when we saw him walking across a busy highway. We stopped our car, and the beagle came to us right away. Carl helped him into our back seat, where he promptly fell asleep. He had no collar or ID. We called him Willy.

When we got home, we saw that Willy had some serious skin problems. Even after two baths with medicated dog shampoo, his skin was a mess and clumps of hair were falling out. We took him to our vet. After an exam (he wasn’t microchipped) and some tests, the vet said he thought Willy’s problem was a food allergy. He recommended a special dog food, which we bought. After only a couple of days on the new food, Willy’s skin began to clear up.

We kept him in Carl’s piano workshop and put a thick blanket on the floor for Willy to use as a bed. Every morning when we went out there, Willy was sleeping on the hard concrete, underneath his blanket. It made me laugh each time.

We were a bit relieved when nobody advertised  for a lost beagle because Willy’s skin had been so bad that we wondered why his people had not done anything to help him. We hoped he might find a better home than where he had come from.

After about two weeks, Willy’s skin had cleared and his fur was growing back. We bought him a new collar, and he looked very handsome. We arranged for Willy to go to a Beagle rescue group, who said they were certain they could find him a good home. The only problem was that they were not allowed to take him directly from us. He had to spend three days at the local Humane Society first, in case someone was looking for him. We worked it out that we would take Willy to the Humane Society late in the day on a Monday. The rescue group would pick him up early on Wednesday. That would technically meet the three-day requirement but would make Willy be in the kennel as short a time as possible.

When we took him in, we took his bag of prescription food, along with the paperwork from our vet, with our names blacked out. We made sure the Humane Society would feed him as directed, and that they would pass along the food and instructions to the Beagle Rescue folks.

Then the unexpected happened. Willy’s owners claimed him on Tuesday!  They had apparently been looking for him but had not seen our Found Dog signs and had not placed any Lost Dog ads.  I had mixed feelings. Normally I would be overjoyed to have a rescued animal reunited with his people, but I worried a lot that Willy was returning to someone who had not properly taken care of him.

Several weeks later, I was in my vet’s office to pick up a prescription for my own dog. When I took out my wallet to pay for it, the girl at the desk told me that I didn’t owe anything because I had a credit of $82 on my account. “That has to be a mistake,” I told her. “If I had that much of a credit, I would know it. What’s it from?”

She didn’t know, but when she asked the vet-tech, she did know. “Remember that beagle you rescued?” she asked. “Well, his owners came in. They said the Humane Society gave them paperwork that showed he had been treated here. They were thrilled by how good he looked. They had taken him to a different vet for his skin trouble, but that vet had been unable to solve the problem. They now bring their dog here, and they’ve kept him on the prescription dog food. He’s doing great.”

The beagle’s owners wanted to know who had rescued their dog, so that they could reimburse that person. Our vet doesn’t give out personal information, but told Willy’s owners that if they wanted to make a payment on our account, they could. The vet assured them that we would definitely be in again, since we often rescued animals. So Willy’s people had paid the $82 that we had spent to have Willy treated, which is why we had a credit on our account.

I was so happy to know that Willy’s family really did love him and had tried to solve his skin problem. He had not been neglected, as I had feared, but instead lived with kind and generous people. It was the happiest ending that Willy’s story could have had.

When I read the article about the beagle winning the dog show, one part especially made me laugh. It said that prior to entering the show ring for the final round, Uno had taken a nap under his blanket!

Some people collect china teacups or marbles or stamps. I collect quotations.  While rare coins, antique music boxes, and other collectibles are often beyond the average person’s budget, quotations are free. All you have to do is copy a favorite saying into a notebook or computer file, and you have it to reread as often as you like. Another plus: quotations don’t have to be dusted.

My collection started many years ago when I was a struggling writer. The first quote that I copied into my writer’s notebook was, “A professional is an amateur who kept trying.” Unfortunately, I did not write down the author’s name so I can’t give credit here to the person who originally wrote those words. Many times that one sentence helped me find the courage to keep going after a manuscript had been rejected.

At first all of the quotes that I saved were related to writing. Here is another, from the late opera singer, Beverly Sills: “There are no shortcuts to anywhere worth going.”

One of my favorites: “Times are bad. Children no longer obey their parents, and everyone is writing a book.”  -  Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 BCE)

Eventually I began saving quotes that applied more generally to my life rather than being specific to my career.   Such as: “Things which matter most must never be at the mercy of things which matter least.” - Goethe

“Be happy now, without reason - or you never will be at all.” - Dan Millman

“Success is powerful, but living with significance is even better.”  - Robin Sharma

“I distrust those people who know so well what God wants them to do, because I notice it always coincides with their own desires.”  - Susan B. Anthony

“Teaching a child not to step on a caterpillar is as valuable to the child as it is to the caterpillar.” - Bradley Millar

Last, my current favorite: “Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.” - Theodore Seuss Geisel