Why Do They Ask

Why do they ask if they don't want an honest answer -or- maybe my response wasn't as funny as I thought.

My credit card company called me today. Actually it was my account manager. To be honest I haven't been using my card much and I think she was worried about me. Either way, she introduced herself and wanted to know how they could serve me better and what I'd like from my card. Without pause, I said I'd really like my card better if it had a zero balance. "A zero balance?" came the cold response. I replied yes, I'd like it better if it had a zero balance, and I laughed at the thought, and said, but I don't supposed you could help me with that.

There was a long, long pause.....followed by a labored sigh. I was thinking at that point my account manager must be having a bad day/week/month or lifetime. Maybe she's heard comments like that one to many times. If so, I apologize.

I also took that as a sign to end the conversation before I dug a bigger hole and they decided to double my interest rate. And really, I understand that sometimes you get lame jokes in the line of business. Can't tell you how many times this week people have made jokes when we tell them that Halloween costumes, accessories, and make-up are not returnable or exchangeable. We're just doing our job, like the account manager was doing hers. But, honestly, she asked first.

Candy

It may, or may not come as a surprise that I sometimes keep a box of candy in the drawer next to my computer. It never hurts to have a secret stash of something sweet at hand. Usually it's a box of Dot's.

Opening a fresh box tonight got me thinking of Halloween candy and penny candy. Okay, I may be showing my age here. I remember coming home from trick or treating with a haul of candy, spreading out on the floor, sorting it, trading some, savoring the surplus. Dot's were a favorite back then, as were tootsie rolls, sixlets, necco wafers and snickers. Butter Fingers were always given to an older brother. Milk Duds (what kind of name is that anyway) were very low on palatability as far as I was concerned. Heck, I can still remember receiving popcorn balls for Halloween. I can also remember penny candy. For a quarter you could get a whole bag full of goodies. Now, for a quarter, I can get about 8 peanut M&M's from the machine in the break room at work. That is sometimes my incentive to make it from 3:30 until quiting time at 5pm-ish. It doesn't take much to motivate me.

Now while my favorite snack is potato chips and cheese, they are not as easy to stock in the drawer of your desk. So, the Dot's come to the rescue.

Oh yes, and don't forget the kit kats, three musketeers, and the Reese's pieces. So many possibilities.....I wonder if a mixed bag of Halloween candy will fit in that drawer, the 2 lb bag - of course.

Java

It was a domestic catastrophe. The Cuisinart Coffee Maker refused to work this morning. For someone I know, it was situation worse than the national economy. In spite of cajoling, encouraging, tampering, it would not, could not make any coffee. Tools were brought in from the garage to check for a loose connection of some kind. Until it was realized we didn't own the tools for the job. It was a sad, sad moment.

Someone, whose name shall remain anonymous, crawled back into bed in despair. Ugghhhh......no coffee......

But, in a moment of inspiration, a little voice said, don't we still have a lowly Mr. Coffee pot somewhere? Sure, it was banished to the basement when Mr. Cuisinart moved in, but maybe, just maybe there is way to make coffee. And lo and hold a jubilant cheer arose from the basement (perhaps you heard it). Yes, YES! There is another coffee pot in the house.

All manner of joy returned, life had value again, and coffee was made. Moral of the story, never ever underestimate the love of a person for their java. And always keep a spare coffee maker in the basement.

To Market - Sidney's Version

Remember the nursery rhyme - To market, to market to buy a fat pig, home again home again jiggity jig?

Well, this is Sidney's version. To sofa, to sofa to curl up in my space, you're out of luck, go find your own place.

With the colder weather coming in, I've seen an increase in Sidney's activity. He can dash in the front door, race to the front room, dive onto the sofa and curl up in a ball faster than I can walk five paces to the living room. Then he gives me the what took you so long look.

He has certainly become accustom to the finer things in life. Like the sofa, football shaped pupperoni dog treats. Well, make that any shaped pupperoni dog treats. For Sidney, they are the equivalent to Pete's Liver Treats OMG Liver Treats.

And in the yard, he has one speed only - full speed. He doesn't have the smoothest of gaits, but he more than makes up for it in speed. Today he has about 12 tomato's he's pulled from the vine. It's good to have a dog that plays well independently. Usually I would care, but frost has gotten the plants anyway, so it's too late to get excited.

Last winter he spent freezing in a small rural shelter in Oklahoma. This winter he'll know the good life of foster care here in Nebraska. Maybe he'll have a home to call his very own.

To market to market to buy a fat hog - Sid will find his forever home - diggity dog.

Report Phishing

Every time I look at the emails that arrive in my junk mail, and subsequently report them as phishing scams, I have to wonder. Who's job is it to deal with all the reported phishing scams anyway? And how bad does that job suck?

Honestly, think of the massive numbers that would get reported on a daily basis? Way more than one person could wade through. Is there a whole team of phishing scam specialists out there burning the midnight oil to keep my junk mail box as empty as possible? How does one train for such a job? And talk about job security? Do they go home at night and say, wow, you should have seen the scam I saw to today. Or holy crap, I'm exhausted from phishing today.

Perhaps they just get routed to a black hole somewhere. Because truthfully the notices that I've won lotteries in foreign countries streams in on a semi-regular basis. Perhaps there is a team, or needs to be, just for phishing scams of an international nature.

Whoever this fine folks are I would like to thank them for their diligence, and encourage them to keep after it. I'll do my part to eradicate phishing scams if they do theirs.

Opening Day

My favorite boys, well two of them, are out hunting this morning. It's opening day of pheasant season. I have to admit I rather envy them.

I used to hunt with my Dad and brothers when I was young. I felt kind of torn about that, wanting to be with the men in the family and wanting to be the little lady my Mom hoped for. In the end, walking the fields won out. Getting up at 4am, packing lunches, layering on the warm clothing, hitting the fields and railroad tracks at sunrise. Back then you could hunt the tracks. I remember always being afraid a train would somehow sneak up on me.

Granted potty breaks were a little problematic being the only girl in the group. But otherwise I was just one of the guys. I have a wonderful photograph of my brother and I in the field when I was probably 15 yrs old. Those were the days.

My son would rather hunt than do anything else. His dream job would be to work on a hunting preserve, we just have to find him that job. My Dad must smile from the heavens on him today and every other day of hunting. They never met, but they have the same love of the sport.

Funny thing is, once I had kids, I never got back out in the field again. Maybe some day I will. Someday I need to do that. What a kick it would be to hunt with my son. We never hunted with dogs back then, now we'd have several which would make it even more fun.

When you think of it, each day is opening day for us. A chance to start again, to do something we love, to make time for our bliss. So for those hunting today I say, be safe, have fun, find the beauty in your walk in life and with nature. Happy hunting. My Dad and I are with you in spirit.

Three Days of Rain

What do you get then you have three days of rain and four dogs? A whole lot of pent up energy and 16 paws trying to burn it off. And you know that place in the yard where the drainage is bad and this summer was the year it would get fixed?? Well, it didn't get fixed. There is still a mud puddle right before the porch.

Not to mention the standing water in the yard in the low spots. Wow, it's fun the see the water splash as the dogs plough through the puddles, to hear the thunder of their paws. Not so much fun when they come in with belly's and legs splashed with mud.

I shouldn't complain -it's a treat to send them out to run, sniff, investigate the yard and all it's smells. They need to exercise and burn off that energy. We're lucky we can just send them out in the yard. And I know, some folks would wipe each and every paw as it comes back inside. Oh to be so efficient. Oh, to have so much time. Oh forget it - it ain't gonna happen.

I do have a housekeeper who comes twice a month to do the floors and bathrooms. All I can say is boy, she's gonna hate us next week. I'll be sure to tell the dogs to look particularly adorable when she comes. Maybe she will forgive them for their paw prints of indiscretion all over the floor. Maybe the sun will come out tomorrow and dry things up a little.

I sure hope so.

It Must Be There

I wouldn't have expected to learn a lesson about faith from a ball obsessed English Springer Spaniel. But, I did.

For days now, Maddie has been obsessed by something under our bed. We figured it was a ball. Both of us have looked several times for whatever it was she was searching for. We looked in the day, we looked at night with the aid of a flashlight. We looked even though we'd already looked and knew that the only thing under there was a stray sandal and a dust bunny. Still she would try to get under the bed to look herself.

Frankly, I was beginning to think she was losing her doggy grip on reality. And, yes, we were becoming fairly irritated at her continued, borderline frantic search for something that clearly wasn't there.

The beauty of this story is she didn't have to see it to know it was there. She believed it was there. Her instincts (and no doubt her nose) told her it was there. Still we questioned her sanity.

So, as we lay there last night she had her head under the edge of the bed whining. I decided to look from another angle. I looked down from the top of the bed by the headboard. And low and behold, there was her prized ball, half way down the box spring wedged between the bed and the bed frame. It couldn't be seen, but was right where she thought it would be.

She didn't have see it to believe it. She simply trusted. We should all be more like that.

Take Your Vitamins

Take your vitamins. Do your homework. Make your apologies. Clean up your messes. Find time to give thanks. Laugh.

Hmmmm. I'm pretty good at giving the dogs their vitamins, but I am not so good at taking mine. I do my homework, but I am sort of a wait until the last minute person. Making apologies - giving them is sometimes as hard as accepting them. Cleaning - me? I'm supposed to do that?? Find time to give thanks - phfewww, something I excel at. Laugh - yea, two things I do well.

Take time to listen. Refuse to hold a grudge. Be light of heart. Expect good things.

Ahhh. listening - I can do that. That is if I remember to close my mouth and open my heart. Refuse to hold a grudge?? Not even a little one? Ohhhhh.......not so easy. Be light of heart - as in singing with abandon for the sheer joy of it. Laughing at yourself often, really often. Skipping, no really, can you be angry and skip? I don't think so. Stomp maybe, skip no. Expect good things. Repeat that one over and over until you do just that.

And few last tidbits. Set appropriate boundaries. Indulge yourself and those you love. Make more snow angels. Take time to pet the dogs and remember to smell the roses, or the chocolate chip cookies - your choice.

Bed Dogs

It was a Kodak moment, and of course, my Kodak was not at hand. I walked into the bedroom and there lies Mickey. In the middle of the king-sized bed, on his back. In all his doggy bliss, king of the bed. Generally, we laugh at his bedroom antics. If the bed is made he will pull the covers down to expose a pillow and snuggle in there on the pillow. If the bed is not made and the pillows are nicely exposed, he will sleep at the bottom of the bed on the pile of covers. Mick prefers the bed sans humans. Go figure.

Kobe has several "beds". Most of which are on ground level. He has his corner bed in the bedroom. His office bed next to my computer. And, of course, his recliner bed. Being the first dog to ever have recliner privileges at my house, he rules the roost nicely from there.

Maddie sleeps on both sides of the bed. Depending on which of us is tolerating the extra warmth from her snuggling. From now through April (barring hot flashes) she'll snuggle in right by the small of my back like a furry hot water bottle. When it's cold out, Mick will join the mix, snuggling in right behind my knees. He's not a furry hot water bottle kind of dog. But we have a heat transfer system going. Maddie warms me, I warm Mick. Reno? His job is to maintain control of his share of the blankets - no easy task that.

Sidney has his section of the sofa, and his crate. He is curled up on his sofa right now. In his place, in his little ball. He does the same thing in his crate, but doesn't have to endure the imposition of sharing his crate, like he has to share his sofa.

I've come a long way since I let the dogs start sleeping with me. And I love it, well except for when it's really hot, or I'm really hot. But you know, they don't mind if I kick them out of bed once in a while. They simply wait until I drift off to sleep again, and like the stealth dogs they are, they fly in under the radar and assume the position.

Birthday Boy

My little boy is going to be 25 tomorrow. How can that be?

Just yesterday I was bringing him home from the hospital on a sunny Fall day like today. Now he is tall, proud and has a beard like Abe Lincoln. He says he is not shaving until after hunting season. Which season, which year? Maybe I should have bought him some razors for his birthday.

There are a few things I'd like to tell him. No, it's not to late to figure out life. Most of us work on that journey every day. Yes, you can do anything you want. Of course, you have to be motivated for any change to happen. Why? Because I'm the Mom that's why - that will never change. Uh huh, rent happens at the old homestead when you come back for a brief stay. No, that doesn't apply to the summer between the school years in college. Go to college and you too can live here rent free during the summer. You have great seeds of faith planted in you - don't be afraid to water them. It's okay to make mistakes as long as you learn from them. You are smart and have a good heart. One can't ask for more than that.

Yes, I'd do it all over again. No, I didn't mean to be crabby. Especially all those times at Halloween when I was excessively crabby - I'm really sorry. And yes, you will always be my little boy - and don't ever forget - I love you.

Mom

Black Dog - Orange Collar

As much as she would probably hate to admit it, my daughter is a lot like me. Granted, shes 21 and wears a Mohawk, and I'm 50 and wouldn't be caught dead in one, but our hearts are of the same maker.

She was telling me that recently a neighbor came to her door and asked if they had a large black lab with an orange collar. She said yes. The neighbor said Decoy was loose and heading down the block. He's having trouble understanding the whole stay inside the fence concept. So off she goes yelling and running after him.

Down the block and through the intersection they both run. She's calling his name, and no response whatsoever. You know that selective hearing dogs can have. She gets up to the dog, who cringes and cowers on her approach and she snags it by the collar. Only then to realize the dog in her grasp is not Decoy at all. Her response at that point is oh crap, now what do I do?

As she ponders this, and heads back up the hill, with reluctant dog in tow, a man starts yelling, don't let that dog go!!! The owner of the other black lab in the neighborhood was approaching.

Now maybe Decoy wanders because of a lovely female black lab named Sugar in the neighborhood. Or maybe his nose just gets the best of him. What make me smile is that my daughter is more like me than not. And we've been a long time getting to that point. And it's nice to know that good people run after their dogs, or dogs who just look like their dogs.

Women of Faith

I belong to a women's bible study group. They have almost worked their way through a book. I, however, have read perhaps one or two chapters of it.

There is a certain amount of irony in this. I rarely get to the meetings. I haven't done the homework and yet, I come away a better person for having met with them. Life draws us many directions in spite of our intentions to meet, to share our faith. We all have jobs, families, and challenges. We get pulled many ways, and struggle to find the balance, and to walk the walk.

Hmmmm, how do we walk the walk? Well, sometimes we do it well, sometimes we lean heavily on the strength of others. Sometimes we walk and carry someone simply by our faith alone. Sometimes, our faith feels shaky at best.

It matters not that I usually don't always get the reading done. It is enough to meet with these women, to hear their belief. Truthfully, we could all benefit from an increase of belief. So many times we get so busy with life, we forget that which gives us life.

And faith is what defines us and gives us life. It is hard to explain, sometimes heavy to carry, but always strong enough to carry us through. Sharing it divides our sorrows, and multiplies our joys. It blooms, in in response, so do we.

So Many Names

First of all there are all the pet names. Mick, Maddie, Sidney, Kobe. Then all the pet's nicknames. Koblerone, Prince Kobe, Jingles (aka Kobe) who now wears bells on his collar. Baby (aka Maddie) - I know, that's a Reno thing. Mickers, Mikelfur, Dufus Boy (aka Mickey). Sid, Silly Sid, Okie, Sofa Hog (aka Sidney). All of which can change daily. Then there are all the screen names, log in names and nicknames we use.

Add to that all the passwords, access codes, account identification names - and it's no wonder I have trouble remembering all this stuff. It rather defeats the purpose to have to keep a list of user names and passwords. And for every one I've had, I've had to ask at least twice for assistance because I've forgotten them. Dang, I hate when that happens. Even worse is when you get blocked from your account because you can't get the right combination of user name and pass words. Geesh!!! I understand the need for that. Can't they understand how hard it is for me to remember all that stuff.

Like when you would call your child by one of the other kid's names. You know as soon as the word is leaving your mouth it's not correct, but it's as close as you can get that second. Close has to count sometimes. I know the adage, close only counts in horse shoes and hand grenades. But my suggestion is it should count for more than that.

Perhaps my brain is close to full with all these new names I'm responsible for. Names and numbers, numbers and names. I'm doing my level best with all this data. Perhaps that will be the next user name I pick.... "doin_my>levelbst". Or "dogtired_2_manynames!".

Funny How You Love

Funny how you love those old dogs even when they have health issues. With a puppy a person might ponder rehoming it if they couldn't get it housebroken. With an old dog, whom you've loved forever, you just clean up after him and go on with your day. Granted, I will be putting a bell on my old boy's collar today. That should help me help him get to the door fast enough. He's waits until the last minute to decide he has to go, and has no back up ability to hold it. Don't you hate when that happens. Poor dude.

Funny how you love those puppies even when they are driving you crazy. A couple of our group are fostering multiple puppies. Isn't insanity entertaining??? Isn't drinking tempting?? Aren't they absolutely adorable when........they are sleeping?

Funny how you love the greeting they give you when you get home. Even if it includes a mad dash to the yard, followed by frantic paws insisting they really, truly, haven't eaten in days.

Funny how they know our routine, and how we know theirs. How they become like children to us, and yet we get to crate them and leash them. Something we all wish we could do with our teenagers.

Funny how I love Sidney's exuberance. His complete grasp of all things dufus. A friend once share about her Labradors going "bowling for nuns" during their walk by a convent one day. Sidney goes bowling for me.....but really, if he comes when I call, can I complain that he comes at 90 mph??

Funny how I love Mickey during our pet therapy visits. Here is a boy who has a Masters degree in being a goof ball, a dufus boy. Get him in the hospital and he becomes a visiting dignitary. All stoic and well mannered, a proper English gentleman.

Isn't it funny how you/we love the dogs? And aren't we completely lucky/blessed/encouraged to do so?

Work

Work, work, work, work, work. Now put that to the music of the song "War". Work, Huh, ya'll, Good God, what is it good for......absolutely nothing.

Okay, not true. Work is good for many things. Not the least of which is keeping dog food in the pantry. Treats in the cookie jar, and coffee in the cabinet. Not to mention a couple bottles of wine in the wine rack.

But both of us are facing our busy season's. One of us is totally overwhelmed right now. And the other will be soon. In our haste, and frenzy, we can forget what we enjoy about our jobs. In our haste, and frenzy, we can forget about what is really important in life. We forget that the best we can do, is do our best on any given day. Our best doesn't have to be perfect, in fact, it's just not possible.

Work is not our life, but part of what makes our lives rich. And rich is not just a monetary thing. My guess is there will always be more requests for service on the job than there are hours in the day to do them. Instead of speeding up, I believe we should slow down. Yes, I learned that from the dogs. Slow down and accomplish more.

So, today, slow down. Breathe. Do your work, ask for help when you need it, delegate if you can, take time to smile in the process. And let go. At least a little bit.

Take it from the dogs. Work like a dog, play with abandon, find joy in simple things. spend quality time with your favorite people. Then curl up and rest. Repeat.

Ode to the Tomato's

Alas, it is a sad day. My last day this season to harvest tomato's. I love checking the tomato's daily and bringing some in to eat. I probably haven't told them enough what they mean to me. And now, as frost fast approaches it's almost too late.

Cherry tomato's - you are like chocolate in my hand. Addictive, enticing, diminutive, challenging to find every ripe one hiding from view. Many of you never ever make it to the kitchen. I don't share you well. I keep lamenting how poorly you performed this year - At least that's what I tell people. It's a need to know thing......you understand.

Heirloom tomato's - this is the year of Mr. Stripey. What can I say about Mr. Stripey? You, Dear Stripey are adorable. Larger than a ping pong ball, but smaller that a tennis ball. Sweet, scrumptious, and yes, even striped. Many a time you were a substitute for a tennis ball for Maddie to run with.

Better Boys - you are consistent, productive, tolerant - just what we want from both our boys and our tomato's. You are still blooming your heart out and I hate to see you go.

Dear, dear Tomato's - you are blt's, you are bruschetta, you are tomato sauce, juice, you are the stuff of Bloody Mary's. You are salsa and soup. You are a meal with just salt, basil,mozzarella and olive oil. Nothing says summer like a home grown tomato.

I shall try to cover you with blankets tonight, to prolong your departure and shield you from the cold. If you succumb to the frost - know you are loved. And we shall meet again in the Spring as soon as the frost date has passed.

Random Thots - Fall

It's that time of year. I love the Fall, the shorts and sweatshirts, the no heat and no air conditioning. Warm days and cool nights. Heck, I'm still harvesting tomato's and peppers. And they have no clue their days are numbered. They are still blossoming like crazy.

Of course the flip side is the increase in crickets in the basement singing away. Funny, the dogs will hunt them in the garden, but if they are in basement they have no interest.

Yesterday, while watching the dogs in the yard I spied a large bird in the yard behind me. It was just sitting there, and every time I looked out there it was. Mick and Sidney ran the yard from front to back and paid no attention to the bird. There were squirrels in and out of the yard, depending on where the dogs were. And each time I looked, there sat Mr. Bird just watching. Curiosity, of course, got me out in the back yard. Naturally, I wondered if it was hurt. As I walked out to the farthest flower beds, up into the air went the bird. It was a red tail hawk, with a squirrel in it's talons. It was not something I'd ever seen happen in my backyard before. Both cool and intimidating at the same time. And thankfully, my skinny pointers don't resemble either appetizers or an entree for a hungry hawk.

We had our first frost/freeze warning last night. So it won't be long until the windows get closed, and the few plants I try to hold over the winter get brought inside. Luckily we only got down to the low 40's. My vote is to ease into that cold weather crap slowly.

Let's just savor where we are today, and live in this moment.

Yap Happy

Some dogs run silently through the yard. Not so with Sidney.

He runs yapping to and fro. Not yipping like a little dog. Mind you, no offense to the little dogs of the world. Not even barking per se. He makes noises of excitement. And in his excitement he just has to be auditory. Little yaps, tiny whines and a whole lot of "look at me I can run like crazy" energy packed into a lemon and white pointer.

For a pup who spent nine months in a four run rural shelter with over twenty dogs, I figure he can yap all he wants. And he can run all he wants too.

He has full run of the yard now - he's mastered the invisible fence. He has moved by baby steps, and by giant leaps and bounds, into a healthy happy dog. He still has a few skittish moments. A far cry from the terrified animal that came into foster care here a couple months ago.

If I had travelled as far as he has, I'd yap too. And that noise, like his, would be the sound of pure joy.

Pointers In The Sky

It was a red-letter day for Pointer Rescue. We had three pointers in the sky at once today. Two flying to their foster home, and one flying to a forever home. Two puppies were on a private flight with a volunteer, one was on a commercial flight.

Those of you who work in rescue know how exciting this can be. It's not easy with gas prices and the economy to move dogs like we used to. But dedicated volunteers and wonderful adopters make days like today possible.

Kudos to all involved. To the foster homes, to the adopters, to the shelter workers who pull the dogs, to the volunteers who donate their time and talent to help the animals. Kudos to hearts big enough to say "yes, I will help."

Tails wag, and hearts sing on days like today.

Random Thots - NYC

I'm still riding the high of last weekend in NYC. Although, I noted while I was there I am the only one still wearing open toed shoes. That has been confirmed here in the Midwest as well. With the cooler weather women are getting their boots out. Like we won't have to wear them clear until March or April. Me? I make that change more slowly (reluctantly), and considerably less fashionably. I refuse to put on socks, boots or a coat until I absolutely have to. I adore this time of year when you neither have to air condition or heat. But I confess I'm looking forward to fire place weather.

I was thrilled, and continue to be thrilled at the number of dogs in the big city. Kudos to the responsible owners who get out there many times a day to walk their dogs, take them to the dog run, and clean up religiously after them. While I came home appreciating being able to just open the door and let my dogs out, I also stand and applaud those who get out and walk their dogs multiple times a day. You guys rock!!

Yes, there were a few rat sightings in the big city. Ewwwww. But the pigeon eating a leg of chicken on the curb was most disturbing. That is wrong on so many levels. I wonder if the organization "People for Pigeons" know this happens.

For the record we visited the oldest bar, oldest church, oldest pizza place, and the oldest deli in the city. Yes, we do have our priorities straight. An appreciation for history, sustenance, faith and dogs. It doesn't get much better than that.

Looks Like Trouble

I am slightly offended. I was working on some decorating yesterday and the dogs, of course, were right there with me. I have a 48" wreath that hangs over my mantle. It's a funky wreath with stems with no flowers on them, rose heads with no stems, strips of grocery bags woven in. I was ready to change it up so I got some new product to add to it.

We took it outside for dusting and later I went to work on it. Reno had gone up to bed, which left Mickey, Sidney and Maddie in the front room with me. Mick and Sidney were crashed out on the sofa, and Maddie snuggled into the recliner.

They snoozed away peacefully until I hauled the 6' ladder into the front room. At that point they were sneaking peeks while feigning sleeping to keep an eye on me. All was good until I started up the ladder with the wreath in tow. Truthfully, I had it all under control. At that point there was some mutual telepathic communication between the three dogs - it said - run, run for your life. All three high tailed it out of the front room. Helllooo??? Do I look dangerous? I guess I must.

Now, that wasn't so bad and I didn't take it too personally. This morning, however, I watched Reno step over three resting dogs while carrying his brief case and a large box of business stuff. Not a dog budged. Why didn't that set off the warning signals???

The likelihood of a misplaced foot was much greater than a giant wreath tumbling from 6' up. But the dogs weren't taking any chances,. Which, like I said, I find slightly offensive.

See Sidney Run. Run Sidney Run!!

There is something about watching a dog running for the pure joy of it. Zooming around. Tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. Dashing hither and yon.

For Sidney, it has been a long time coming. Sure, he has played in the house with Mickey. And that is great. He used to run down the zip line. Although stopping was rather abrupt. But he has new freedom now that he has learned the invisible fence system. Today he figured out that besides hunting in the yard, he can run for the sheer bliss of it. He ran after Micky and Maddie, he ran for the Kong, he ran after Maddie with the Kong, he retrieved the Kong, he over ran the Kong. He ran and didn't have a clue where the Kong was. It doesn't get much better than when your spirit is free to play. And play he did.

Think of this dog afraid of everything. Now think of him playing with complete abandon.

Run, Sidney, Run!

Home Is....

Where the dogs are. So, I was just as at home recently in the Big Apple as I am now that I'm back home in the Midwest.

I'm thrilled to report Pete is thriving in his new home. He lives exactly the kind of life we want for our foster dogs. There is no resemblance to the dog my kids called "skeletor". But he is every bit the Pete he used to be and more.

I was thrilled by the sights and sounds of the big city. It was all I heard it was, and more than I could have imagined. Mostly I am humbled by the journey to led me there. I don't think I've ever walked so far, so fast, for so long. Now I know how a Flat Stanley feels when being photographed on one of his journeys. Except, I'd be a not-so-flat-Nancy.

I am amazed at the doors that opened for me. Elevator doors, subway doors, cathedral doors, taxi doors, museum doors, dog run doors, restaurant doors, apartment doors. All of these doors opened in delight, thanksgiving, and wonder simply because I said yes to dogs in my life about ten years ago and in particular to a foster named Pete last January.

I went there to attend a blessing of the animals. And found myself receiving more graces than I could ever give. Saying thank you to Pete's parents is not be enough. It's one of the life experiences where the best you can do is pay it forward whenever the opportunity presents itself.

That is what we do when we open our hearts to the moment. My moments are full of dogs. I may walk the dogs, but in truth, they have walked me clear to NYC and back. And it was awesome.

Episco-Pete Gets Blessed

I'm not certain who was more blessed today. Me to be in NYC with Pete, or Pete to be in NYC with his wonderful family. Either way divine intervention brought us together.

One should take time to give adoration to the connections that lead us new directions. There was a time I never would have gone to NYC, or Seattle, or other places to spend time with friends who are really new to my life. So my blessing is the expanded horizons that have come my way.

How often do you see a camel entering a Episcopal Cathedral (or any other cathedral for that matter?) Or a tortoise in a decorated wagon? Or raptors, goats, reindeer, pony's, and an adorable tiny cow. All with wreaths of lemon leaf around their necks complete with a gerbera daisy??? It was an animal lover's moment of bliss.

Then there were the individual blessings for animals. There were dog's galore, a few cat's in carriers mixed in for good measure, a pair of red ear slider turtles, and dogs. Did I mention there were dogs? Most touching was the man behind us with his precious box carrying the remains of his dear cat. Our animals live on in our hearts long after our animals cross the bridge.

Pete and Lucy were blessed officially today. In reality, they are blessed beyond measure on a daily basis.

Come to think of it, we all are.

Be Good

I'm going to New York for the weekend. I trust the city is ready for me. And, I hope the dogs are good while I'm gone. It's so much like leaving your children - very difficult to do.

I asked them if they'd miss me while I was gone, and if they'd be good. I was told that miss is a relative term. And to define good. I think that means yes to both questions. Truth is they probably won't miss me. Perhaps won't even know I'm gone. I know I'll miss them.

So I have to wonder if Pete will remember me when I get to see him this weekend? Will some memory of his days here come back to him. He's a big city dog now, but his roots are in the Midwest. Will he remember liver treats (OMG Liver Treats)? Will he remember the comforts he learned here. Will he remember the love and healing?

Maybe it's not about specific memories, but about general feelings of being loved. If we give nothing else, as parents, foster Mom's, friends, spouses, significant others, coworkers. Let it be the general feeling of being loved and excepted.

Sure, some of you are saying h*ll no, I don't love my coworkers. Some days it's hard to love ourselves. But in some ways we are all the same - longing to be connected, to be cared for, valued. And in some ways we are vastly, profoundly different.

Part of my trip to NYC will include attending a Blessing of the Animals. Indeed, animals are so blessed, as are they who share their life. I'm not taking any of my dogs with me, but I'll carry a whole pack in my heart. Abby, Fancy, Mickey, Kobe, Maddie, and Sidney will be with me in spirit.

It will be good to go, to see Pete, to pray among other animals lovers for the pets who color our lives. I'll be good. And I trust they will too.

Letting Go

We are at the point in training Sidney on the Invisible Fence that I have to let go. So today, it was off the flexi lead for the first time since he arrived. He didn't know the difference, I was terrified.

When you assume responsibility for something, you tend to hold on tight. It becomes a part of you, and the urge to protect it is strong. Holding on tight may or may not be a good thing. With Sidney, I put him on a long lead and then let him go to explore the yard. Of course, I followed close behind. I couldn't let go entirely you know? He explored the back yard and stayed safely in the yard. He was a little freaked by the rope following him. We walked to the front yard and I stopped to visit with a neighbor. She was in my yard, watching her pet bunny in her yard. I was in my yard keeping one eye on Sidney. Sidney ventured down to the bottom of the driveway to meet the neighbor. He did so well! He did get too close to the boundary and got a correction for it. He retreated to a safe area and was praised to high heaven.

Pretty soon he'll have run of the yard. That will be a delight for him, and for me. Until then, we work day-by-day on me letting go, and him learning to say in. We are both learning in the process and it is a beautiful thing. Not all that long ago he was afraid of his own shadow.

Look how far he has come!