Friends

I was going to start this blog saying, where would we be without our girlfriends? And that is oh so true. But in all honesty let's suffice it to say - where would we be without our friends? It doesn't matter if they are guy friends, girl friends, work friends, church friends, animal friends, neighbor friends, old friends, new friends.

Sometimes getting together with them is a scheduling nightmare. Sometimes, like last evening, it just all fell into place. We have a friend who's Mother is in hospice care. We needed to connect with her before she goes home this weekend to visit with her Mom. I made, on behalf of all of us, a necklace for this friend using both her Mother's birth stone colors and her own, so she has a tangible reminder of how connected she and her Mom will always be. The bonus of this is it also reminds her of how much her friends love her as well.

Sometimes we need those tangible reminders that we are indeed loved. We need a physical symbol that we can draw strength from. We need to be with our friends, our dear chosen family, to draw strength, energy and encouragement from. They hold our heads above water, and in turn, we do the same.

They are a gift indeed. Thank you dear friends......

Random Thots

Yesterday my neighbors German Shepard escaped the back yard again. I think she'd rather be a front yard dog. When I went over to see if the gate was by chance open, you could tell by the look on her face she knew she'd been busted. Obviously she was unwilling to slip back under the fence, that only works when you want out. I tried to track down my neighbor, but couldn't, so I loaded Penny up (she must think I'm the dog catcher) and delivered her to their vet. I would hope, if one of my dogs was out, that a neighbor would do the same. Today Penny's Mom delivered a pan of lasagna for my trouble. Really, it wasn't any trouble, but I like where this is going. Maybe Penny and I could form an alliance and more yummy meals will be delivered my way.

I'm ashamed to admit this, but Mickey, my therapy dog can be a pain in the patoot. First of all, he has a penchant for blankets. He sets the house record for chewing holes in them. Today, that little livered rascal started eating the fringe off a pashmina of mine. Okay, my fault for leaving it out. It's not like I don't know that there is a devil that sometimes possesses Mick.

The most embarrassing thing is when we leave pet therapy he will not jump into the truck for me. He leaps right in going there, but when we're done he'll stand there like he's never gotten into a vehicle in his life. He used to, he has for years. But the day this winter when there was ice melt all over and his paws hurt I carried him to the car because he wouldn't walk. Since then the won't get in on his own. Grrrrr........what an embarrassment!!!

And lastly, Momma Robin built a nest on top of one of our light fixtures by the back door. Easy access, sheltered from wind, rain, pointers. She likes it there, but I about have a heart attack when I walk out the door forgetting she's there. My only worry is when the babies hatch and are ready to fly. Sure hope they leave the nest on a day when the dogs aren't around. Last year we accidentally cooked the eggs in a nest on top of the light fixture by leaving the light on all night. This year we promise to be more careful.

That's the way life goes. Dogs escape, birds nest, dinner is delivered. We watch out for one another. And yes, love each other even when holes get chewed in the blankets of life.

Multi Tasking

There are activities where multi tasking works and there are activities where it doesn't. Those that don't work are usually quite a surprise. They shouldn't be, but they are.

Here is an example. I was taking Hank out for a spin around the yard. Since invisible fence training hasn't started yet, we visit the yard on a flexi-leash. The first lesson is that one should not take their eyes off the dog on the leash. This is important for many reasons, especially for seeing when a dog is about to bolt. The second lesson is also important. Do not compromise your center of gravity with said dog on the flexi-leash. So, a case where you multi task and take both your eyes off the dog and short change your center of gravity is not a good situation. Do I honor this knowledge - well, not as well as I should.

I stopped moving , because Hank stopped moving. And I saw, in the moment of stillness, several weeds in the bed just aching to be pulled. So I squatted down and proceeded to pull weeds. One, two, three Whoa!!!! I don't know what Hank saw. I do know he was off like a rocket, hit the end of the leash and I was suddenly on my knees in the muddy garden before I knew what happened! I'm not even sure what words came out of my mouth, although I bet there were colorful. I do know I am happy I landed on wet soft earth. That was better than pavement would have been. And, I know I held on to the leash - even though there was several feet of pointer driven forward movement before I hit the ground. My chiropractor loves when I have impactful moments in life like this one.

Just this morning I was thinking how easy it's been to foster Hank. Ha! And how he hasn't had many hilarious moments. Haha! Too bad we didn't have a video camera rolling. Today's event could be listed under stupid human tricks. So, I won't being weeding and walking again - lesson learned.

Enthusiasm

Let me give you a visual of Hank at feeding time. He waits quietly in his crate while I fix his food. When I put his bowl in his crate the entertainment begins. Remember the cartoon that shows the really high platform diver? The one who dives into a little bucket of water? Well this is Hank as he dives into his bowl searching for his Satin Ball. That divine meatball of hamburger, oatmeal, peanut butter, cream cheese, eggs, wheat germ and a little garlic powder is totally Hankalicious. He dives in for it and kibble flies all over. The meat ball, OMG, where is the meatball! His enthusiasm more than makes up for the other finicky eaters around here.

The fun continues when he goes to the door with you to go outside. There he is like a Lipizzaner Stallion. Leaping up, leaping up, leaping so amazingly up!! Someone needs to tell him leaping up repeatedly does not enhance my ability to get him leashed to go outside.

But, you have to love his zest for food and the great outdoors. Come to think of it, I get excited about those same things myself. Although I do draw the line at platform diving, and my leaping days are over too. Well, except for leaps of faith and jumping for joy.

Play Is Good

Mickey and Hank have finally decided to play. I've been suggesting it was time all week. But just like with teens (and sometimes men) until it is their idea one ought to just save their breath. I know that, but will it ever stop me - I don't think so.

Today it happened. And, naturally, play was initiated underneath the kitchen table while I was sitting there. They have the whole house, but beneath my legs is the best place. Of course, that depends on who you ask.

It was that silly pointer game. The open mouth, not really biting at one another, a little head butting and posturing, funny vocalization (as only a dog can do), trying to wind between Mom's legs play. Don't get me wrong - play is good!! And I was delighted! I wonder if this is a pointer thing? I have had labs, dobe and cockers, plus the resident springer. Only the pointers initiate this game.

I have to wonder what they are saying to each other. My guess Mick was egging Hank on. "Come on Newby, show me your stuff. Bring it on Farm Boy. Think you're special, getting all the attention from Mom lately? Think again hot stuff, she loved me first." Or, maybe it was normal guy talk. Play? Sure. End of conversation. Game on.

Either way, play is good and the fun is just beginning.

Don't Mind Me

If Hank could talk he'd say "don't mind me, I'll make myself right at home". Of course he'd also say, "I'll be your shadow thank you very much."

He's laying at my feet right now as I type. Last night he wandered into the spare bedroom, pulled a sheet off the pile waiting to go to the laundry room, and dragged it over to the computer room. He curled up on it and laid down. He'd be laying on it right now except Miss Maddie is laying between Hank and his blanket. You have to love a guy who gets his own sheets and makes his own bed.

I have to wonder what his life experience was before he came into rescue. How could someone not miss this wonderful boy. He's joyful, easy going, crates easily. Doesn't seem to know what to do with toys, but treats are not new to him. He's tried to help with the keyboard once, and tried to visit the top of Reno's desk (only once), but other than than he's doing great. Oh sure, he did try to see how far a sweatshirt sleeve would stretch and if socks were portable, but other than that he's doing great.

For being completely small animal driven, he did (as did all the other "hunting" dogs in the family) sleep through the wild turkey in the neighbors yard yesterday. Their watch must end after dinner is served.

If Hank could talk he'd say, "hey, I kinda like it here. Don't mind me, I'll just make myself right at home. Ahhhhh, foster care - life is good."

All Forms of Torture

With Hank's leg swelling we (read I) decided soaking it in warm Epsom salt water would be beneficial. Hank wasn't so sure it was a good idea. First he tried to make off with the towel for under the bucket. Then the idea of submerging one leg was definitely too restrictive. What started out as a one person task soon turned into a two person task, and yes, we were both out numbered. We got maybe a 5 minute soak in (without dumping the container) and that was enough for all of us. We'll do it again today.

Took him to the vet this morning to have him micro chipped and gave the vet a peak at the leg. It was actually more swollen this morning after soaking than before. A round of antibiotics and anti-inflammatory med's is underway, and if it doesn't improve the vet said next option would be to tap the fluid and have it analyzed.

Next came his debut visit at the store for multiple rounds of loving. His tail didn't stop for a second! Lot's of ohhh, and ahhhh's and oh poor fella's. Not to mention several what a handsome boy comments and what a lovely temperament! It's that pointer personality shining through.

Following that he had time on the zip-line to commune with nature. But I could hear commotion all the way inside the house. I found Hank trying to get close enough to two squirrels in a tree that were talking a big line of smack to him. Trouble was he was on the zip line and about 6 ft from the offensive tree and its hecklers. Height wise he was in the zone! The rest was a yardage issue, but his intent was clear. No squirrels were going to flip him off in his own yard!

It's been quite a day for Hank, and it's just past Noon. All kinds of experiences (Hank says torture) for a young boy. I think a nap is in order, for me, and maybe one for Hank too.

Old Bones, Dog Bones, No Bones About It

Bones have been on my mind. Old bones, because my Mom broke some yesterday. She took a fall that broke some fingers in her hand, but also will break her heart. She can't live alone anymore. At 88, she probably shouldn't have been on her own this long. Fierce Independence will take you a long way. But now safety becomes the issue and she will not take these changes gracefully.

Dog bones also come to mind. I think in the Rules of Doggy Bliss, there is one that says - if you have a bone, you must prance with it. Flip it, chase it, gnaw on it, but prancing is a true sign of ecstasy. Hank has discovered this house has good bones. He doesn't seem to know what the other toys are, but bones? He knows and has the prance down pat.

Another Rule of Doggy Bliss? Throw yourself down with complete abandon and roll. Not a gentle easing to the surface of the carpet. Not a subtle slide to the floor. Hank throws himself down to roll. And then proceeds to cover every inch of the room. Who put that chair in the way? Whoa, where did that table come from?

And two other dog issues come to mind today. Why is pooping on the walking path, or under the zip line preferable to anywhere else in the yard??? And why can't they make an indestructible rope toy? I really think Mick should test all rope toy products for durability. He adores rope toys, but he is a voracious chewer when he has one. So, to all the manufacturers out there, Mick is available for product analysis and durability testing. Send those samples to Mickey, care of me.

And, good news is Maddie is walking on her repaired ACL leg more and more. She's probably half tri-pod, half on all fours again. Making lots of progress in that area.

So there you have it, changes are coming, changes have happened, every day brings some challenges, no bones about it.

Random Dog Thots

It's been a busy week for Hank. Moved to the big city, met his new family, learned about the zip line, got in trouble for scoping out the counter and table top. He gets brushed almost every day and had his ears cleaned. I'm sure the ear cleaning is something he'd like to write home to Mom about.

By the looks of him, food was a precious commodity for quite a while. He eats like there is no tomorrow. In fact, Hank could lick the stainless off of a stainless steel bowl. He gets a Kong put in his bowl to slow him down as he wolfs through his meal. I'm not sure it's made much of a difference. The only one here who eats as fast as Hank is Reno. Don't tell him I said that. Hank is getting some Satin Balls and some yogurt with each meal. Reno doesn't get goodies like that.

Hank still sounds off and barks (sometimes) at the other dogs if they walk by his crate. But we've seen vast improvement on that.

Maddie has decided with the newby around her crate in the basement is a lovely refuge from Hank-mania.

Kobe, bless his senior heart, found the air mattress we had for a guest in the spare bedroom. He thought he was in dog heaven until he got stuck between the wall and a soft place. Some how (where is that video camera when you need it) he rolled to his side and got stuck on his back between the wall and the mattress. He was rather like a large turtle on his back. Reno helped him get right with the world. I know, I know, not funny, but funny at the same time. Poor Prince Kobe.

Things are rarely random, and totally random in my doggy-dog world. What can I say, I love those fur balls.

Settling In or True Colors

Amazing what changes 48 hours brings in a new foster dog. I'm predicting this boy will be flying Mach I through the house by the end of the month. Anything moving slower than that will be in for a surprise.

Hank has met all the cast now. He and Mick met last night on neutral territory. Reno walked Hank down to a nearby field and I drove Mick over. We gave them an opportunity to sniff butts. Hank checked out Mick's and was about as invasive as a proctologist. Mick, unflappable as always, didn't give a hoot. Mick didn't reciprocate, though I think he should have. After that, both were more interested in working the field than each other. Mick would find a hole, and Hank would start excavating. What a team.

The other dogs we introduced in the yard at home with no issues. Maddie will pluck a few of his whiskers if he gets too in her face. And Kobe will set him straight too, in his special senior but still alpha sort of way.

Hank is learning about the zip line and is intense about the wild life. He's discovered if he's not outside, he can watch the outside while sitting on the couch. Life is good here.

So here he is, settling in and starting to come out of his shell. He's showing his true colors in a completely adorable, dufus, I'm a huge spaz, young Pointer kind of way.

Dropped One Off - Picked One Up

It was a double rescue day. One scheduled, one surprise.

A neighbors dog, a 1 yr old German Shepherd named Penelope, slipped out of her fence and came calling. She and Mickey had a lovely run in the yard together. Trouble was, neighbors weren't home and we needed to go out. I called and left messages at both numbers from her tags. And fairly quickly her owner called. It was decided we'd drop Penny off at Camp Bow Wow for the rest of the day. So we loaded her up and took her to camp. Mission accomplished.

Next pick up was our new foster, whom Reno has dubbed Hammerin Hank. He's a scrawny boy, who's had a rough life. Picked up as a stray, with several wounds in various stages of healing. When he was moved from the shelter, after his 7 days were up, he could barely walk. He spent the next 2 months boarded at the local vet clinic. He has a homely body (in places), but a beautiful face, and I'm certain a wonderful spirit to match it. He has totally gnarly nipples, probably trauma from laying on concrete. He has several marks possibly from shot gun pellets. He has some leg swelling above one of the wound sites, that makes him look like he has fat ankles. Except in his case he has a fat hock.

We laughed at him in the car. At first he sat and watched all the oncoming traffic. Each time a vehicle passed, he ducked his head. He looked like a real live bobble head. After about 20 minutes he learned he didn't need to duck any more. That's what I love about fostering - seeing how quickly they learn about the good stuff life can offer.

He ate well, sipped from the water bowl, toured the yard, and settled nicely in his crate. He knows how to do stairs, looks like he may have taken some courses in counter surfing, and gave us several lovely points at robins in the yard.

And so it begins. Just like that you open your heart to the unknown, and soon the possibilities begin to bloom. This chapter about blooming is called: Hank Goes To The City

More chapters to follow.

Finicky to Funny

Two of the dogs, Mickey and Maddie, have become finicky eaters. I'm hoping when our new foster comes later today that Mickey will become more active and his appetite will pick up again. Maddie is probably not eating as well because her activity level is lower due to her ACL repair. Good news is she's beginning to use that paw - whohoo!!! And Kobe, well, he never has been a picky eater. He eats like we are serving fillet mignon every day twice a day! He always tap dances and whoo-whoo's until I get his meal ready. He's not only hungry, but demanding!

On a funny note, I was at Cabela's yesterday with Reno and his son. They looked at almost every item in the store, with me wandering aimlessly behind them. By happy circumstance we ran into my son and two of his buddies there. Imagine that! Not. It's turkey season and that seems to bring the hunter guys out in droves, or would that be flocks?

So some of my favorite guys, all five of them, were drawn to the aisle with turkey calls. Like kids in a candy store they were. Such focus, such enthusiasm, such "I've got to try them all" or I'll simply die behavior from adult men!! One would have thought they were the ones puffing up their tail feathers and strutting. Perhaps they were.

I had to laugh at the visual of this, and the noise they were joyously making. Add to that the discussion of camo, shotgun shells and missed opportunities it was amusing.

Now, I have no desire to join in the turkey hunt. Obviously my strutting and squawking days never made it to the field for turkey hunting. I believe I stay home with the finicky eaters. And I'll be quite happy to do so.

The Ultimate

They say the key to finding joy in your life is to be happy with what you have. There is so much truth to that. But this would be a short blog if I stopped there.

A couple times a year, when I have large family gatherings I can't help but think how wonderful it would be to have a double oven. Case in point, last November when we had Reno's party. Remember the fiasco of the turkey that was precooked? Who knew they even sold them like that? So I was scrambling to cook turkey parts for gravy, stuffing, and warm up a precooked bird, all with one oven. Thank God for a Weber grill!

Yesterday morning when I got the ham out to slice for warming, I again had a "holy crap" kitchen moment. I'm sure any phrase that starts with "holy" gets you bonus points on Easter. The ham, which I thought was precooked, wasn't. Dangit, when did meat get so tricky? So I had to cook the ham, and the french toast casseroles.......simultaneously......in one oven. Hmmmm.....praising Mr. Weber wherever he is. He has saved my butt several times now!

So you can see how nice a double oven would be. It would be the ultimate - on big cooking days like yesterday. It would keep cursing to a minimum, the meal on schedule, and keep me from looking so incredibly blonde in the kitchen.

But truly, the ultimate is being able to live like we do. To feast like we do, share our lives like we do. To have pets who show us how to love unconditionally, to have family and friends. All the little irritations are just small potato's in the big picture of life.

On second thought, think how dull life would be if everything went just perfect? I think I'll take the challenges of an imperfect life. Now that is the ultimate blessing.

Starting Over

There are many times in life we start over. Every Fall when school begins we start over. Sometimes a marriage fails, or we lose a loved one, and we are challenged to start over. Everyday, every hour, every minute we have a choice. We can be a victim or a survivor of life and all it offers. Some start the day with hope and joy in their hearts, some couldn't find hope or joy if it hit them in the head. For me, I'm glad I get to start over. Starting over has been very, very good to me.

Come Tuesday we'll be starting with a new foster dog. I'm excited and a little apprehensive. Our new boy's name is Hank. Reno already refers to him as Hammerin Hank. I think the name Hammerin Hank conjures up a big personality with lots of potential. Hank doesn't know what's ahead of him, any more than we do. But, I know he will bring his own doggy-dog silly pointer self right into our hearts.

So in this season of Easter, of loss and rebirth, of healing and growth, bringing in a foster is a wonderful way to start over.

Reading My Mind

I know the dogs are smarter than we think. They know our routine inside and out. They may appear to be snoozing away innocently in the land of doggy dreams, but nooooo, they are totally aware of us.

Sometimes, they even know what we are thinking. Without words or actions. Case in point. I decided yesterday to give Miss Maddie a bath. Her favorite boy arrives today, and I wanted her clean and shiny. I also wanted her groomed, but that part didn't get done. So, it was going to be into the tub for the deluxe shampoo. As soon as I said her name, she knew. She gets up, heads down stairs and goes right into her crate. Doing her best impression of a dog that is completely deaf. Her look clearly said, if I can't hear you, it can't be bath time. See how cute I am in the back of my crate, see how comfy I am, surely you don't want to disturb me.

An invitation to all the dogs to go outside had her out of the crate in an instant. She's not the only one who can play mind games. On her way back inside I scooped her up and off to the water torture we went. Funny how dogs who love the water also loath it when its for bathing purposes.

Ahhh, but the end result. One clean, shiny princess ready for her boy. We can't wait.

Slivers

It must be officially garden season. Well, technically, garden clean up season. And I got my first official sliver.

Slivers are tricky little pains in the patoot. Or the finger, or hand, or wherever. You wouldn't think a sliver could irritate so much. You wouldn't think a tiny thing like that would even puncture the skin.

Slivers are like women, they nag us until we do something. Slivers are like men, they get under our skin until we want to take a knife and gouge it out. Slivers are like teenagers, the operate by stealth mode and drive us crazy. Slivers at like bad neighbors, they just won't go away.

That little tiny sliver gets our attention and we are required to respond. Sometimes we act immediately, sometimes we pretend it isn't there, sometimes we let it fester. Nothing worse than a sliver from an old brittle rose thorn, if you ask me. Life offers us slivers in many ways, shapes and forms. Funny how a little thing like a sliver will motivate us.

We really are fast learners, well, sometimes. Unless, of course, we never learn to work in the garden with gloves on. That might spare me a sliver or two. I have enough trouble with pruners, sheers, trowels, shovels and old achy knees. Now I'm supposed to remember garden gloves too?? It was a small price to pay for time in the garden today. I wonder if AFLAC has a sliver benefit - I'd better check my policy.

Enough/Not Enough

There is a fine line between doing enough and not enough - in rescue, in parenting, in relationships, in life. Balance is the key, but, of course, balance is one of life's teeter-totters.

When we have done enough we feel good - well, duh. Ya think??? When we feel like we haven't done enough, we forget all the good we have done. We forget that on any given day we only need do the best we can.

Nope, we won't ever be perfect. There will be days that our best is not the same as our best on other days. Some days we have oodles to give, other days we'd prefer not to even crawl out of bed. Some days running away from home is a great temptation. There are days we'd rather stay home. Better to pack up everyone else and send them far away. Outer Mongolia comes to mind as a great destination. There are days of pink underwear, crushed mail boxes, spilled milk, misunderstandings. There are days of bounced checks, blonde moments, missed appointments and things that sounded so good at the time.

I have the tendency to overlook the 11 things I did well, and focus on the one thing I screwed up. Personally, life is challenging enough without me beating myself up. Funny how our pets never suffer from the malaise of not getting it right. They, of course, live fully in the moment - no lingering regrets for them.

So perhaps it's time to cut our self some slack, to offer some self-forgiveness. To know we did okay. It's time to laugh, and to learn.

Enough is enough - and we are doing today exactly enough. Probably more than we realize.

Puppy Fix

The only thing better than your own puppy is a friend with a puppy. Wait, maybe that is better than your own puppy.

I called a friend tonight and asked if we could baby sit their 9 wk old yellow lab, Barkley. They weren't going out, so I suggested we bring over pizza and just come and play with Barkley. The evening had all the makings of a perfect evening. It consisted of puppy breath, pizza, wine and good friends. Who need a sofa and chairs when there is a puppy around? Puppies are just the best, in terms of entertainment. And this pup has it all. Dr. Foster's and Smith would be jealous. Granted, I don't want another puppy, but I do want the deluxe puppy set up.

In fact, all week long, I've gotten my puppy fix. Our store dog, Happer, was bred and Barkley was one of the litter. Several of the other eight pups have been in the store this week. In all, I've loved up on Barkley, Charlie, Aspen and Moose. All yellow labs, all totally adorable.

I suppose if I'd wanted a pup, I could have gotten one of this litter too. Much as I love labs, puppies are too much work. Of course, as a foster home, I won't bat an eye at a dog who's never lived indoors before - probably not much different than a pup in some respects.

It's much like being a grandparent (not that I know from experience). I dig loving up on someone else's puppy and then sending them home. I know we're exhausted from playing, I'm sure Barkley is too. When he sleeps in tomorrow morning, our friends have us to thank for it.

Old Dogs, Healing Dogs, Mickey Dogs

Right now the pet population at our house numbers three. One old dog, one ortho dog, one Mickey Boy. Mickey is old enough to know better, but young enough to get into mischief.

One night a week I work late, well until 9pm. Often, when I pull in the driveway Reno announces to the dogs "Mommy's Home"! All three of the dogs bolt awake and race to the door to meet me. What can I say, I love a welcoming committee.

Wouldn't it be nice if life offered us a welcoming committee more often. Kind of like the welcome wagon, but better. My ideal welcome wagon would include all the dogs (past and present), my kids, Reno, a marching band, my girlfriends, unlimited potato chips and cheese, some wine, steaks on the grill, more wine, a few puppies (visiting only) and my previous foster dogs. Add my son's college roommates, my cyber friends I've yet to meet, favorite cousins and out-of-town family and friends and we'd have quite a celebration.

Oh ya, it would be great. We'd sit on the patio by the light of the tiki torches and celebrate life. Funny how often we forget to do just that.

Until that grand celebration comes to pass, I have an old dog, an ortho dog, a Mickey Boy and Reno greeting me at the door. What a blessed way to end the day.