Taking Stock......

Who among us is not taking stock on how 2009 went?  And, naturally, we view only the big picture.  Not that there is anything wrong with that, but life, and love, is made up of small pictures, tiny moments in time that build upon one another. 

In looking back I have more kisses I wish I'd given to give to Sidney, Kobe and Maddie.  Yet, I am thankful for all the kisses I did give them!  When I think back on all the times Kobe followed me, like a Whitehouse Secret Service agent,  into the bathroom I can't help but smile.  There was a time, when I thought I was dying from Mono, that he sat beside me while I worshiped at the porcelain throne.  In retrospect, he probably wondered why I didn't just get a sip of water while I was there like he did.  But he gently leaned against me and I knew I wasn't going to die alone.

There were hour and hours spent at the hospital (and the vet's office) this year, hours I would do again in a heartbeat.  Hours I wish had lasted longer for my sake only. There were lonely hours,  happy hours, and sleeping hours.   Not to mention a few hours of panic, some flashes of hindsight, some bouts of stupidity, some times of hilarity, and a couple splashes of brilliance.  There was church time (though not enough!), garden time, time cleaning up gifts left by the dogs.  There was thankfully,  work to go to and paychecks every other Thursday. 

Yes, there was laughter and sorrow.  Time with kids, times we felt like kids, times that we reflected on what it was like when we were kids.  There was garden time, waiting time, wondering time, time to say hello and goodbye. 

So here I am, taking stock and giving thanks - for all the little moments in my 2009 doggy dog world. 

Shades of Kobe

Kobe was what we call a Winter Grazer.  In a way that was a big help to me.  Kobe liked to graze among the frozen poopsicles in the yard.  So in a way he helped me clean the yard which in the winter was a Godsend.  Sometimes one must overlook slight character flaws for there is still much beauty to be found in that gentle heart.  Truth be told we all have some slight flaws like this.

Mr. Hanky brought back shades of Kobe the other night.  I mean this literally and figuratively!  Kobe would have been so proud of his lemon-headed friend.  Mr. Hanky had the audacity to run into the house with a frozen treat.  I understand the slight character flaw part of this episode.  I understand the cold weather and blizzard might have momentarily addled Hanks brains.  I understand he wanted in and quickly at that. 

But this is, and I'm offering a warning for ALL the dogs of the world, this is a major faux paw!  One must never, I repeat never bring frozen treats into the house.  Perhaps Kobe in his moments of nibbling bliss forgot to mention this rule to Hank.   Or, perhaps he deliberately didn't share this important tidbit of information.  If so, Kobe is still chuckling over this incident on the other side of the bridge. 

It was not a happy moment in the fold, but I'm thinking-hoping-praying it won't happen again.  Offending the Goddess of All That Is Good In Life is not recommended.   Leaving the treat when Mom said to is good, but hiding it for discovery later was not the best idea.  Oh yes, it was discovered!!  Perhaps you heard the roof raise momentarily?  Followed by a certain four-letter word.  Yes, it began with S and ended with T. 

They say it happens, and I agree.  Happy shades of Kobe, hilarious escapades of Hanky.  Fair warning for all the others - outside grazing while gross, is always better than inside grazing. 

Merry Kissmutts

Wish I could say I thought up the word - Kissmutts, but my honest self says I have to tell the truth, I borrowed it off a card.

It is a Christmas to remember, mostly because Mother Nature has wrapped us in snow and drifted us closed.  When we were little we had some blizzards.  We were shorter then, so the drifts appeared 4 ft tall.  Now I hear some are 4 ft tall and it's still snowing and blowing. Plus this is our second blizzard in one year.  Definitely a record in my book.   I am torn between longing for a "normal" Christmas and celebrating the solitude of this one.  More than likely we won't budge from the house. 

Last night Reno grilled steaks in the snow.  It's a personal challenge for him to grill in any weather.  He and his Weber grill make beautiful meals together, and last night was no different.  My Dad would have loved him for just this reason! 

I think only one of my boys will be out today, and that's because he's plowing snow.  Not sure we'll see him, but he's out there.  A boy and his plow is almost as endearing as a boy and his dog.

And the dogs?  My happy little (or not so little) Kissmutts.  Hank has been standing at the back door watching for the squirrel in the tree.  Such diligence, such patience, such a silly Mr. Hanky.  They have both made mad dashes out in the yard and reported back in record time.  They know how to kick back and relax, so I'll try to take some lessons from them.

So from our house to yours.....may your heart be glad and may you have a Merry Kissmutts. 

Little Gifts

Each of my siblings and our kids are getting a small gift from my Mom this Christmas.  Technically, it's from me, but in another way it's straight from my Mom.

In cleaning out her house we founds stacks, piles, folders, envelopes, books, trays, and boxes with clipped out recipes and cleaning tips.  Obviously, she had a lot more cooking and cleaning to do.  All of us have gotten her cooking genes.  I, however, was out-of-town on the day they passed out cleaning genes. 

I've prepared 13 envelopes each containing some recipes Mom hand wrote, recipes she clipped out, and some cleaning tips.  I think our mission is to try at least one recipe in her honor.  Any of the cleaners are welcome to my cleaning tips as I probably won't need them.

It's a little gift, a little remembrance, a little memory and a little way to help clean out the house.  Of course it shows what a pack rat I tend to be, but at least I'm sharing the wealth.  It helps to know she's still with us and she's cooking up a storm.

Just Yesterday

Wasn't it just yesterday we were getting ready for Thanksgiving?  Remember when we said I'll think about that after Christmas?  And that time seemed very far away.  Well, it's almost Christmas and those other things are looming ahead.  In other words time flies.

Boy howdy does it fly.  I remember nursing my first son by the light of the Christmas tree. He's 26 now!   I remember nursing my second son by the light of the Christmas tree.  I remember all the Christmas' I read the story the Life and Adventures of Santa Claus to the kids.  I remember the Christmas I spent in a cast because of a badly broken ankle.  I remember the year the tree fell down because of  operator error on the tree stand.  I remember the year the tree fell down thanks to the shenanigans to a certain pointer and a certain dobe.  Names withheld to protect the guilty.  I remember the year I decided to leave my mistle toe up permanently, and love came back into my life.  It's still up, I'm not taking any chances. 

And it was just today that Mickey and I did pet therapy with a certain Reindog named Jack.  Now, Mick is always Mr. Decorum and Jack is always comic relief.  They make a great pair.  Although I will say a goofy golden retriever with antlers is way more entertaining the a staid English Gentleman.  Perhaps Jack envy's Mick's mild mannered appearance.  I'm certain Mick admires his hooligan friend Jack.  Either way they are awesome.

So there you are...a little trip down memory lane...and two dogs making holiday visits at the hospital.  May you find time this week for happy memories of yesteryear, and create some new ones as well.  Remember time flies, may it fly like two happy souls with tails a wagging. 

Hank The Hambone

Mr. Hanky is one of the sweetest guys on earth.  As well as one of the biggest dufus boys in the world.  He has come a long way since we picked him up last April and brought him into the fold.

Knocking on wood that we have not had significant changes in his cancer, but loving each day with him for what it is.  Usually it's a hoot.  When we rearranged the furniture to make way for the tree Hank rearranged how he mogates the living room too.  Gotta love his willingness to adapt.  Of course, adapting has included scrambling over the top of the coffee table once and hurdling over the back of the sofa like it was indoor agility equipment.  Then there are the moments when wagging pointer tails whank the ornaments on the tree and mass clanking can be heard.  Luckily, or because hindsight is 20/20, we only hang the unbreakables near the bottom of the tree.

Last night he was like the angelic child sleeping blissfully on the sofa.  Head on the pillow, blanket keeping him warm and snug.  Blissful in his repose, all shades of handsome peacefulness.  Why is it one can rarely photograph those moments?  Holding a camera in front of a sleeping dog is like hot gluing a milk bone to your forehead - certain to get noticed!

I tried to capture the Kodak moment, but what I got was more in keeping with Hank's true personality.  Perhaps that is for the best.  I think I prefer the reality of Hank the Hambone more than a fleeting moment of rest.  Even goofballs need to rest up for their escapades.

Men Who Sing

This about pure unadulterated joy.  Much like life with dogs.  Similar to happy tails just wagging to beat the band.

We have a friend who sings with the Pathfinders Chorus from Fremont, NE.  They are a men's A Cappella chorus.  Until last evening we had never heard them perform.  But I have to tell you I have new respect for men who sing.  Most of us, perhaps all of us, would love to sing.  Some of us sing only in the car, or the shower for obvious reasons.  Others will sing in church, but only because that is one place you will be forgiven for being a less than harmonious singer.  Enthusiasm will only get you so far.  There are times, though, that enthusiasm and lack of talent will still get you shot at sundown. 

But, and there is always a but,  these guys more than make up for those of us who missed out on singing talent.  They sing for the love of singing and in doing so honor the gift of voice they've been given.  It was incredible.  Even partying with them at the bar afterwards they broke into song.  Everything stopped in that moment which is exactly as it should be.

Such a reminder to stay in those moments that bring joy.  Be they moments of joy with small children, with our beloved pets, our families, our passions......and definitely in those moments with men who sing.

It's a Wonderful Life

There is a customer I see in the store quite regularly.  His name is one in the same as the actor in the old movie It's A Wonderful Life.  Those of you who are old enough will know who I mean.  He positively beams when he says what his name is.

He comes in to buy marbles and flat gems to decorate bowling balls with.  So it probably goes without saying he's a retired man with a hobby.  Not everyone can see the beauty in an old bowling ball covered with marbles, but he does.  He's quite proud of them.  Plus it makes a pretty solid yard ornament.  Hail and wind proof which is good in Nebraska.

He was waiting for me when I got to work today to show me his, ahhemmmm, balls.  He had a dozen of them in his pick-up truck in a specially made rack to display/transport them in.  He was delivering three of them today.  I can't remember the last time I saw someone so proud of his balls. 

Here is the deal, I don't know this guys story, but I know the delight he takes in his hobby.  In a world that is often jaded and discouraging there are not enough men like him.  He found a mission in life, and made it his passion. 

He'd probably be the first to tell you it's a wonderful life.  I'd like to be the second. 

Nine Days and Counting

On the  last of Christmas my two dogs gave to me.....one pointer pointing, two retrievers fetching, three lap dogs lounging, four doxies yapping, five beagles baying, six sheepdogs herding, seven shelties sitting, eight german shepards guarding, nine poodles pouncing, ten terriers terrorizing, eleven pugs a wheezing and a pomeranian on a pillow. 

Okay, so it's not the last day of Christmas, but it's getting too close.  Frankly, I I'd like to go back to mid-September and proclaim a redo.  I'm not ready for Christmas, and I'm definitely not ready for the year to end.  I have some things bought and mostly nothing wrapped.  As far as decorations.....we have the tree up and I used the Christmas leash when we did pet therapy yesterday.  How's that for being organized?

I've envious of people with holiday cards with pictures of their pets on them.  I like that idea, and maybe some day I'll be organized enough to do that. I did see a card that said "we deck our halls with bones and balls".  Ain't that the truth!   I do have ornaments on the tree for each of the dogs, including foster dogs too. They hang at the bottom of the tree in case an errant tail takes a whack at them, they are not breakable.

So as we come down the home stretch may I give the following advice (like you can stop me).  Give lots of treats.  Woof with excitment.  Take naps if you are tired.  Wag your tail (even you two footed beings out there).  Break out in song when the mood moves you.  Enjoy the preparations.  Anticipate.  Take time to listen.  Take time to love. Reach out to the needy, give thanks and celebrate.

Woof.

Warm Hearts

Mick is my pet therapy dog.  I have always said if he could drive to the hospital himself I'd be dispensible.  The dogs hold all the magic, I just hold the leash.  The staff adores the therapy dogs, and that warms my heart.

I can't count the times I've been told how fabulous he is, what a perfect gentleman, how quiet, well mannered, obedient.  The Mom in me has to laugh.  The pointer owner in me knows better.  Oh yes, I laugh hardest when I go to bed at night with a blanket that resembles swiss cheese because said perfect gentleman has gnawed a perfect hole in it.  Mind you, he's a crafty blanket biter for sure.  I have yet to catch him in the process.  But, I love him just the same, and am glad in public he represents the breed and our therapy organization well. 

So today with the temps in the single digits and lots of salt on the ground from freezing mist the other day, I opted to use the valet parking.  Usually we park in the garage and leave the valet parking for those with greater need.  But, the potential for lots of salt on the ground gave me flashbacks to the time it hurt Mick's paws so much he quit walking and I had to carry him back to the car.  I wasn't game to do that again.

So we waited just inside the building while the valet went to fetch the car.  It was drafty and cold with the doors opening and closing in the busy building.  Pointers don't have much of a coat for cold weather, and a surprising ability to nearly shiver their ticking off.  So there is Mick, in full pathetic shivering mode.  Before you could say "baby it's cold outside" one of the patient escorts was hustling off to get him a warm blanket.  No one asked if I was cold, but truthfully I did have a decent coat on. 

So there was Mickey, swaddled in a warm blanket that was large enough to wrap a horse in.  He will no doubt expect that treatment each visit now.  But, it warms my heart to know the staff cared enough to warm my dog up.  Thank God he didn't leave a hole in their blanket like he does mine.  His reputation remains unsullied and he was well loved.

Hope

Some of us forget to hope.  Some of us doubt hope.  Some of us doubt ourselves and in the process dash our hopes.  Hope is like the nose of the dog that gently prods us for attention.  Hope is like the nose of the dog that frantically prods us for attention.  Hope is like the nose of the dog that pokes it's ice cold nose against our warm and unsuspecting belly.  It's always there.  It's persistent.  It's hard to ignore (mostly).  Perhaps that nose the nudges us is divine motivation.  Couldn't we all use more of that.

Case in point, I've "known" forever I'm going to write a book.  Doubt has kept me from moving forward.  Doubt keeps many people from moving forward and trusting that the unknown outcome will totally be blessed.  We use excuses.....I don't want to fail again, the time is not right, it's too much work, I don't know what to say, I want to do something really grand but never actually try to do that, I don't know what to write about, I don't know how.  Uggghhhh!!! 

So, back to the nose the nudges you.  Believe in it.  Welcome it.  Trust it.  Follow it.  Acknowledge it.  And if all else fails pet it. 

It's Beginning to Look....

.......a lot like Christmas.  Which is good because if we wait much longer we'll miss it.

We began yesterday moving one chair to make room for the Christmas tree.  Well, it rather snowballed from there.  One chair, then two chairs, then the coffee table, Hank's crate, the other chair, the secretary desk,  the sofa, the pathetic looking ponytail palm and the area rug.  Then we got cleaning spots on the carpet, which then led to vacuuming the vertical blinds.  And, then things had to be rearranged in the basement to make room for things from the front room.  It was a long process, but eventually the tree was placed.....phfewwww.

It was suggested Hank's crate go down the basement too.  We used to have all the crates down there, but I've grown accustomed to the look of one in the front room.  I just couldn't do it.  Of course, he's rarely in it when I'm home, but I couldn't bare to move it.

When the tree lighting began we saved a string for Hank's crate.  Last year Sidney had twinkle bulbs on his crate.  This year Hank has the fishing bobber string of lights on his crate.  Very festive.  It seems a new traditon has begun.  I need to find a string of lights that looks like Milk Bones for next year.  If anyone sees one please let me know.

I think tonight we'll actually decorate the tree.  Yes, I know others have had their tree up since Thanksgiving, we just aren't one of those families.  In January I'll go to market and buy all the Fall/Christmas items for next season.  For someone who shops 12 months out for the next season you'd think I wouldn't be scrambling to do my own tree. 

All I can say is better late than never.  Perhaps my goal next year is to get the dog crate decorated right after Thanksgiving.  That way I can baby-step my way to Christmas.   Wonder what that would be like?  I'll probably never know.  I seem to be more suited to scrambling, rushing, dashing, galloping, racing, darting, sprinting and hustling my way through the season.  What can I say - it's just the way I am.

Hand-Me-Downs....

What was better than a wealthy Aunt & Uncle with a daughter about one year older than you?  Not much, that meant a steady supply of sweet hand-me-downs.  Of course the flip side was a bag full of hand-me-downs of slightly shabby clothing that really wasn't any help at all.  Goodies like that could be a blessing, or a challenge to our level of gratitude.

Mr. Hanky was the benefactor of some hand-me-downs.  It's seems Manny the Greyhound had a lovely (and warm) coat in his wardrobe that just was too small for him.  He also received a white pull-over sweater with a shamrock on it.  I think the sweater is best suited in size to a corgi than either Micky or Manny.  Although I would have like to see them try to wrestle Manny into that sweater just once - lol.   Over the dog years,  I've shared Gentle Leaders, crates, collars, bones, baby gates, and all sorts of canine supplies.  But I've never gotten coats for my pups.  Although, once I altered a sweatshirt for Mr. Mickey.  He and I both agreed I did not miss a calling as a seamstress.  There were multiple issues, both in engineering and production on that idea.  Getting it on him was best described as mission impossible.

So, luckily for us, Manny had a coat he couldn't use.  And lucky for Hank, Manny's Mom takes good care of me.  So now we own a lovely red dog coat.  Real dogs say they don't wear coats, just like real men don't eat quiche.  But, I know one pointer who was toasty warm in that lovely red coat today,

You gotta love dog owners.  They will give you the coat off their dog's back.  Hand-me-downs, hand-me-ups, hand-me-overs.....all ways to help one another.  Now doesn't that just give you warm fuzzies.   And if anyone knows an Irish Corgi that needs a St. Paddy's day sweater I have just the one for them....

I'ts A Good Day to.......

Temp. 5 degrees, 10" of fresh snow, wind chill -17.  It's a good day to stay inside and write those holiday cards.  It's a good day to give thanks for the roof over our head, and that the utility bill is paid.  It's a good day to cook, quilt, read, nap, write, bake, nap again, listen to the quiet.

It's not a good day to be a dog with a thin coat.  Mr. Hanky stood just outside the door and whined as he peed on the bushes.  I don't blame him, I'd do the same if I had to go outside.  Luckily my boys know the comforts of warm blankets, good food and gentle hands.  Many dogs do not, heck some people do not.

Warmth and safety mean many things to many people.  On the freezing cold days of life may you have a warm heart, a warm dog, or two or three, warm thoughts, warm hands (or keep the cold ones to yourself), warm feelings, a warm place to sleep, a hot meal, and don't forget your hat.  Most of our body heat is lost out of the top of our heads, most of a dog's body heat is lost through their ears and pads of their feet.  Most of our love is lost when our heart is closed.

So, today and always bundle up to stay warm, give a pet a second chance, open up to stay loved.  And being thankful never hurts either.

Dear Santa

I'm writing today because I know you can relate.  We are expecting 7-9 inches of snow today and it feels like the North Pole out there.

It's that time of year again, but I'm having a little trouble getting into the spirit.  Basically it's been a rough year full of personal losses and financial challenges.  So while I know down the road I'll be a better person for these experiences right now it's weighing heavy on my heart. 

At this point you're probably thinking I should be writing to the big guy upstairs rather than to the fat man at the North Pole.  In a way you are one in the same.  You are both about believing, magic and surprises. You are both about looking forward not back.  You both encourage us to open our hearts.  You are both definitely totally about gifts.

I also know, compared to others, my losses have been small.  But frankly, I miss my Mom and am sad we let so many issues keep us from being close.  I miss Sidney, Kobe and Maddie.  Hank still looks for those other bowls to clean after eating.  Maddie and Kobe generally left some goodies and Hank was more than willing to clean up. 

Money has been a worry even when I know we have so much more than some people.  I  shouldn't even mention that, because I don't want to jinx us, or be ungrateful. 

Lest you think this is a pity party I'm having, please know it's not.  We have our health, the 3 "f's" (faith family and friends), a roof over our head and infinite talents.  I'm not writing to ask for things, but to be able to give during the holiday season and all the other seasons of life. 

I am asking for a liberal dose of Ho-Ho-Ho and Merry Christmas.  I'm asking for Joy to the World.  And some Fa-la-la-la-la wouldn't hurt either.  I'm longing for some Go Tell It On The Mountain, some Mary Did You Know and some Allelulia. 

And, last but not least, Santa, I've been good, really good.  Well, except when I was being bad.  But I know you are a forgiving soul.  So perhaps you could provide a little magic and wonder for my heart, so I can pay it forward to others. 

One other thing, Santa......should I leave milk and cookies?  Or would you prefer Scotch on the rocks.  A little indulgence can be a good thing sometimes. 

Mending

So much mending, so little time.  Mending fences, mending pants, mending relationships, mending hearts, mending souls, mending rips, tears, breaks, holes.

All this came to mind as I mended a pocket for Reno.  I think we are constantly in a state of mending.  It is as much a part of our life as breathing.  Some mending requires just a Snoopy bandaid, some require layers of sutures, some a little knot of faith and some love to glue it together.

The dogs are a great salve to my life.  They mend me daily.  Some have just one pet who does the mending.  Others of us, in rescue, have a revolving door of dogs that help us.  By giving them a second chance, we give ourselves a chance to remember what has value, what refreshes, what joy we can give just by extending ourselves.

Is there a greater gift than to help someone, or something mend?  They say we are strongest in our broken places, but that is thanks to the ability to mend.  Wishing you mending moments, and a beloved pet to lead the way.

Life Goes On

Life goes on in my doggy dog world.  We may be down to two dogs here, but Hank and Mick create enough excitment to make up for it. 

Hank has one speed only, that would be full speed ahead.  Unless he knows it's cold outside.  I'm not sure how he'll do in the snow.  We may have to resort to a catch and release program.  First you catch Hank, then you physically escort him out the door. 

Mickey showed his hunting prowess tonight by trying to run in the back door with a semi-alive bunny in his mouth.  Thankfully he knows the "DROP IT" command.  He was pretty proud.  Ten minutes later he went out again, and found the same bunny that Reno had moved to safety, or so we thought.  This time Mickey tried to bring Mr. BunBun in the front door.  He looked pretty cute, and Hank just looked on in amazement.  I tried to get some photo's, but one pointer with a bunny is tow wiggles too much for the camera.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

So again, the "DROP IT" command, and Mick does release.  Gotta  love that dog!!  He lays it down on the porch and steps carefully over it to come in the house.  This time the bunny received full rights of passage and disposal.  Not by me, thankfully!!

So life goes on.  Sometimes its catch and release, sometimes we catch and catch again.  Sometimes releasing brings sweet relief.  For a hunting dog it was a red letter day.  For me, it was amusing and distressing, but not as much as for Mr. Bunbun - RIP you wascally wabbit.