Year End Musings

I have to laugh. Here we are again, ready to say good bye to one year and say hello to another. Why am I laughing? Because it beats the alternative.

It's been a hard year, but not for us any more than for others. It's been a blessed year, for which we pause to give thanks. I used to be anxious about beginning a new year. Now I figure it might not be a bad thing.

How do you sum up a year of your life? Well, I figure I let the dogs in and out close to 6,570 times. Probably more than that, but I'm not known for my mathematical skills. Where do I sign up for someone to sponsor my trips to let the dogs in/out? I'm not asking much. Just think of the potential if my sponsor contributed a nickel for every time I went to the door? That would be pretty sweet. Wouldn't someone like to be the "proud sponsor of ME"?

I'm guesstimating I did 35-40 pet therapy visits. I laughed far more than I cried, but there were some weepy days. I scooped a lot of poop. I sang more praises for the dogs (good dog Mick, Hank, & Sophie), than I lamented bad dogs. I wrote 178 blogs. I prayed...and only God can count that high!

So there you have it. I didn't move mountains, but I hope I moved some hearts and helped some dogs. I didn't get rich, but I have many riches. I laughed, and I plan to laugh my way, with dogs at my side, into the New Year.

Puppies - 1 wk update

We have learned much this past week about the joys of having puppies. Mind you, we only have two 9 wk olds that we are riding herd over.

We're learned it is an awesome thing to play so hard you have to pee. We've learned there is always more work involved in a project than one might expect, but that the joys outnumber the work. I've learned that Reno is the Puppy Meister. His sense of play is as active as a 9 wk old puppy - and I mean that in the nicest possible way!

I have a greater appreciation for the comfort of belonging to a pack, the pleasure of spooning, and that ears were made to be chewed on. Literally and figuratively. That being said, Junior's ears should be way longer than Queenie's.

While it's a riot to watch (and hear) them play, the silence when they sleep is golden. We should all sleep as well as a tired puppy. We should eat with as much gusto as a puppy and relieve ourselves of .....stresses....as often as they potty. Bet you wondered where I was going with that!

Now, in all honesty, we thought there would be more times the puppies would sleep curled up in our arms. Hahahahaaaaaa.....okay, so that's not happening. Maybe we dreamed up that fantasy somewhere.

For kicks and giggles we had the third pointador puppy who came to Omaha over for a play date yesterday. Perhaps you heard all the ruckus? They had a ball rolling, nipping, growling, barking, running, piddling. It was a sight to behold.

So I don't know who's craziest here. Us, or the puppies? Either way it's been fun, crazy, and full of activity. Life is just like that. And then we nap.

Smarter

I'd like to think that on this round of puppy hood, that we are smarter than your average bear. Without a doubt we are. That's making fostering them easier, plus they are so darned cute you can't help but adore them.

Major kudos go to the gal who met them when they came into the world and nurtured them their first 8 weeks. She said yes to the two pregnant females who needed a place to give birth and enter rescue. She is our hero! In fact, we figured if she could handle those 21 puppies, we ought to be able to handle two. Oh, did I mention she handled all 21 single handed? Her husband is serving our country, while she serves these puppies. She is a much braver (or crazier) woman than I!! But I love her. How could you not? Plus she has the puppies litter box trained - how smart is that!

Now, before they arrived, a group of my friends were betting how long it would take for the puppies to steal my heart. Minutes, days, hours were suggested. You can imagine my surprise when Reno fell hook, line and sinker before we were even home with them. Talk about a role reversal. It's always me saying why don't we get another dog, or another foster, or two. He is always the voice of reason. Yes, I had my surprised face on at his comment. He even asked if foster homes get a reduce adoption price! Holy crap - he's becoming me!! This could be trouble!

You just never know sometimes what saying yes to one thing will lead you too. It led a wonderful lady in CO to 21 puppies. It led us to two. Is it smart? Oh, yes. Opening your heart to love always is.

Christmas Eve

Remember when you were little? How Christmas Eve seemed like it would never, ever get here. Well, working in retail it feels the same way. But I digress.

When it finally got to Christmas Eve you knew the wait was nearly over, you knew, or at least you hoped, it was only hours before the magic happened. Waiting is not something we do easily. Not as kids, not as adults, although we do improve some with age.

In rescue we are always waiting. Waiting to save one more, waiting for foster homes, waiting-hoping-praying for the right forever home to come along. Waiting for transports to fill, waiting for home visit reports, waiting for rescue magic to happen.

We have three fosters waiting right now. Holy moley, I never thought I'd say that. So much for the "one foster dog at a time" rule. Some rules are made to be broken, the two puppies in the front room are testimony to that. Good news is they are settling in well, and we are becoming smarter foster parents in the process.

Hank is still grumbling some, Mick got chased through the kitchen and cornered by the puppies today. Sophie is no more stressed than usual - which I think is some form of progress with her.

So we find ourselves on this night of nights waiting. I am certain you are too. Waiting for the arrival, the celebration, the sacred event. Waiting for puppies to piddle, for Santa to come, for the birth of Jesus.

So from our house to yours, may the wait be easy, the gifts be heartfelt, the joys simple.

Merry Christmas to you and yours from Mick, Hank, Sophie, Jr. & Queenie.

And one last thing....

Dear Santa - We tried to be good ~ the puppies. I'll try not to growl at you or the puppies ~ Hank. I'm sorry about the blanket this morning ~ Sophie. Your treats are the cookies Santa, ours are the biscuits, don't mix 'em up. ~Mick

Slow Introductions

We have been slowly introducing the puppies to Mick, Hank and Sophie. Sophie is the most interested, Hank second to Sophie. And Mick? Hey? Where is Mick hiding? We don't want to overload the "residents" with the "visitors".

I will say Hank is less grumbly about the invasion than at first. That's progress. Although I'm absolutely certain all three are cursing under their breath about the injustice of their arrival. We keep telling them it's only for a little while.

I have to wonder at the huge adjustment the pups have been through in the last few days. To go from being with 20 puppies in the huddle to just two is probably a rude awakening. There is definitely not as much coverage when they snuggle in to sleep. And, what if, in the litter these two weren't exactly bosom buddies? "Hey? How'd I get stuck with you?" "What's up with this? Mom always liked you best?" "Oh ya? Well did anyone tell you that you're a kibble hog?" Children....children...hush....

For us it's an adventure in puppy wrangling. I can see that Reno must have been an awesome partner to raise kids with. Almost makes me want another....ah, ummmm, well ......no, never mind. I will say we've broken the only one foster at a time rule in a big way, and Reno just rolls with it. In spite of all the madness you have to love a man who serenades puppies. Our roles are shifting, he's the nurturer and I'm happy to clean up the kitchen. No, this won't last, I can absolutely guarantee that.

Just like I can guarantee that about the time our dogs accept the puppies as "normal life" in this doggy dog world, that they will begin moving on to their forever homes. Our three will probably do the happy dance when that day comes. Until then it's a bit crazy around here. Crazy in a good way, in a this too shall pass way, in a dang those puppies are cute way.

They are Here!

It was a ten minute drive to home from where we picked up the puppies, Junior and Queenie. In that ten minutes they managed to rip open a 40lb bag of puppy chow. Let the fun begin.

This much I've learned....I don't have enough eyes in my head for two puppies. Puppies who are litter box trained are a Godsend. Two puppies can make an enormous racket! Our three resident dogs have gone into seclusion. I may be joining them later.

Reno, on the other hand is embracing the moment. He was even inside the puppy pen with them playing and snuggling. Sophie was not impressed, but I was. Let me say this much, they are freakin adorable. One golden in color, one black with some white on her chest. Pointer/Labrador mixes. An amusing mix of shenanigan's and hi jinx all wrapped up in some soft fur and blessed with puppy breath. I won't even mention how much they piddle and poo-poo. Did I mention how much I love that they are litter box trained?

So it begins - wild puppy days and wild puppy nights.

Invasion of the Puppies

Dear Sophie, Mick and Hank - the puppies are coming, the puppies are coming. You will behave!

You were puppies. I hope you never lose your inner puppy. You were once in need of a forever home. You can relate. Sophie, you dear, are still looking for one and it will come. You know how things work around here, I need you to be role models for the little ruffians who are taking up residence this morning.

Not to point any fingers, or name names, but Hank (yes, you Hank) there will be no grumbling at the newbies. That is why you get to go for a meet n greet with them at Petco. You get to be first at sniffing their little butts. I expect you to be a complete gentleman. And, I expect you to be enthusiastic to Mick and Sophie about how great this is going to be! Mick, I know you will play Mr. Invisible and hide out in the bedroom. Sophie - if you ever had puppies, or have a maternal side it's time to shine.

However it plays out, it's going to get interesting. Plus it will make a great "remember the Christmas we had puppies" story. Ya, the Christmas we were really crazy, or optimistic, or so tired we couldn't see straight. Or, more than likely, all of the above.

It is the least we can do. Somebody out there is waiting for a new best friend, the least we can do is provide some temporary shelter for them. Sort of like a stable long ago and a newborn taking refuge there. Yes, Reno always loves when I make analogies about our home being a stable. There are some similarities.

Temporary shelters and taking puppy steps to a forever home. We are just part of the chain of volunteers who are making this happen for these pups. Lucky puppies, and lucky us for being able to help love them to a better life.

Eating our Words

At one time or another we all eat our words. One of my brother's swore he would never get married, buy a house or wallpaper. Guess again. I always said I'd never do a puppy again. We can thank a certain, stubborn lab puppy named Abby for that quote. Well, guess what? Tomorrow I'll eat those words in duplicate.

Yup, I'm gonna give puppy hood another whirl. Fostering, that is. Tomorrow, two of the pointador puppies from Colorado temporarily join the pack. Junior and Queenie have no idea what they are getting into. For that matter, neither do Mick, Hank and Sophie. Then again, perhaps neither do we.

We know for sure, that a gal named Jessica is an angel for fostering the 21 pointer/lab puts from birth until 8 weeks. This lady deserves a dozen roses, a medal of honor, a psychiatric exam, a standing ovation and a million bonus points for being a trooper. My motto is if she could do 21 pups, we can do two. I only hope we do it as well as she has.

So a new adventure begins..... Some people prepare for Christmas week by baking and wrapping gifts. We'll spend it snuggling with puppies. We can hardly wait.

Hindsight

I had a friend comment recently "If I had known what 2010 had in store for me I never would have left 2009". Boy, ain't it the truth? She ended a relationship, lost a house to foreclosure, had a recurrence of cancer and an apartment fire. Not exactly a walk in the park. She'd like to be on the giving side of life for a while instead of receiving.

It is infinitely more humbling to receive in our time of need, than to give. Yet, it happens. We all have our "year from hell" from time-to-time and it takes our breath away. It takes our courage, our enthusiasm, our stuff, and rattles our faith.

It's comforting to know (sorta) that it happens to almost everyone. Meaning we are not alone in our struggles. Or if we are, it is a personal choice.

It's that time of year we tend to look back and weigh the blessings and the curses of the year. Hindsight - you know..... All told we have more blessings than we know, and everything we experience is a blessing. Some blessings just come in disguise. The kind that blindside you and scramble our brains like eggs in a bowl.

Years like that give us all pause to reflect, to reach out to others, to appreciate, to give thanks. In hindsight, it changes all of us.

Holiday Spirit

Here we are on the 16th of December. The stockings are not hung by the chimney with care, the tree is not trimmed, the gifts are not wrapped, some handmade gifts are not started....no pressure here! Christmas cards - yes!! Those got done so I can check them off the list.

So maybe this year feels more Grinch-like than others past. I'm not feeling all misty over tinsel and consumed by the details. Maybe this year motivation is an issue. Anyone else feel this way?

You know, that why bother feeling? Except, I always bother, and that's what bothers me. So I think if I visited Santa today I'd ask for a life swap with the dogs.

From now until Christmas I'll live Mick, Hank and Sophie's life and they can live mine. That being the case I'll have a full belly and be snoozing away right this minute. My biggest challenge will be getting to the cookies first. Okay, so that might be an everyday reality. I'll nap in the morning, the afternoon and after dinner. I may have a brief case of the zoomies daily, then again I may not.

When I'm not napping, on the sofa, the bed or under the desk, I'll be totally adorable, a bit of a heathen, and begging to go out....and then begging to come in. I'll drink from the toilet. I'll sniff obscene things in the yard. I may come when you call. See? It's not a bad gig to have.

They can do the wrapping-trimming-decorating plus work retail. Alright, Hank could work retail, Mick couldn't be bothered and Sophie would find it just frightening!! Not that I blame her.

So there you have it. I don't think dogs worry about getting everything done and having the holiday spirit. They exist in the simple pleasures of existence. What a wonderful gift that is, and not one you'd find under the Christmas tree.

Visiting Priveleges

Mr. Hanky, Reno and I had the privilege of visiting someone who follows my blog. She's been a friend for quite a while, but this was our first time to meet her. She was having hip replacement surgery at a hospital in IA, about 30 minutes away. Since she is an IA friend, I decided to take an IA dog for the visit.

Mr. Hanky came from IA originally. The dear lady who helped Hank get to rescue is a friend of the gal who had surgery. Friendship came full circle with our visit. In a way Hank was able to repay the kindnesses extended to him long ago. Not that he needed to, it was just nice he could.

It was a bitterly cold day with blowing snow and messy roads. That's how Reno got involved, by agreeing to chauffeur Hank and I to the visit. He's a good guy that way. So we bundled up. Even Hank wore a winter coat. Luckily his hand-me down coat from Pete arrived last week. The timing was perfect.

So we met a old friend who is new to us. We made her day, and that made ours. Hank was his perfect self. Not at all the dufus he is at home, much to Reno's surprise. Hearts were warmed and healing happened. It was entirely the right thing to do. And Hank would second that motion.

Puppies in our Thots

It is with a sad heart I share that one of the Pointador Puppies crossed the bridge yesterday. Their foster Mom awoke to find Karat, unresponsive and seizuring. She raced the pup to the vet but to no avail. How heartbreaking for her, for us, for all who have been rooting for these 21 pup's. Life is so precious and little lives are especially fragile. What we are all taking comfort from is that God must have needed a puppy too and chose Karat first. Rest in peace little one, rest in peace.

Adoption applications continue to come in for the other Pointadors, and one of them is being adopted to a family here in NE. I've done many home visits in Omaha for other rescues, but this was the first time I was able to do one for Pointer Rescue. May I just say, this future NE resident is one lucky dog! This puppy is well loved already!!! And they haven't even gotten the pup yet.

Plans are in the works to transport this newly adopted pup, and two other Pointadors coming here for fostering. I mean that literally. In spite of saying I wouldn't ever do a puppy again, I found myself saying we'd foster a couple of them. What was I smoking that day?

I'm totally trusting in the premise that puppies get adopted fast. Plus, others are partnering with us to help with the food expenses, and I'm told the pups are litter box trained. It will be fun, I keep telling myself!! Frankly, why get just a little crazy when you can go all the way.

Needless to say.....puppies are on the brain. RIP little Karat, enjoy your forever home across the bridge. And, keep us in your prayers as we em-bark on this new adventure in fostering.

Paws N Pilots or Angels in the Sky

You know about the 21 puppies our rescue has growing by leaps and bounds each day. Well, a challenge every rescue faces is moving those same dogs across the country to forever homes or foster homes.

Transport coordinators work tirelessly to find volunteers to drive legs of a journey from one point to another getting dogs where they need to go. The economy affects this, weather affects it, location does too. It's just plain difficult to move one dog, much less 21.

Here is the deal. We have several of the 21 pups being adopted by homes on the East coast. We need several things to happen to make this a reality. I'm not afraid to ask for a miracle so here goes.

We could use a corporate sponsor to step up to the plate and pay for moving them. I'm thinking Oprah, Rachel Ray, or Ellen DeGeneres would be suitable sponsors. Dog lovers and compassionate people. Yep, I like that idea. Pilots And Paws also comes to mind, or Pet Airways. Do any of you out there have connections with these groups? How about pulling some strings for the Pointador Puppies??

Failing that, we'd take a cash donation to hire someone. Reno comes to mind, but I may be biased. We'd need enough money for gas, some meals, some compensation for his time, someone to ride shotgun and help him wrangle puppies. Overnight accommodations would be made by other dog lovers along the route who want to help out. Heck, I'd put him in a Santa suit and let him ho-ho-ho his way across country.

You think I'm silly for putting all this in print. Haha, well I'm not. We need to move some dogs and we need your help. I've opened the door for a miracle to happen. Calling all angels in the sky to help bring this to pass.

Pull some strings people and get back to me with the details!

Free Dog - Update...again

Funny how life works sometimes. Remember the free dog from the 5:30am call? There is good news. When the owner told his Grandkids he was getting rid of the dog tomorrow they had a fit! Yea for the Grandkids. Pepper (the dog) is now living with the Grandkids. I hope and pray they dote on her every moment. She deserves some serious loving.

That it ended up this way really does not surprise me. In rescue nothing is predictable and few things are surprising. Human's are either wonderful beyond belief or more stupid than one could fathom.

Bottom line - senior dog gets to stay with family. Now that's a happy ending.

Dear Santa - can we talk???

Dear Santa - can we talk? Face it, this time of year we tend to sugar coat things and then wrap them in pretty paper with a bow on it. I'd like to not do that. What has me thinking this way? Well, it's almost time to write my Christmas letter and I feel like there are two versions. One is the expected recap of the year, and the other is the unedited version. One would be way more politically correct than the other.

The thought of putting up a tree and decorations seems like too much work this year. Maybe the fact we've had a couple weeks of the cough/sneezing/crud that's going around factors in here.

Let me cut to the chase. Santa - all I want for Christmas is to be a two income household again. No, I don't want to have to get a second job to be able to do that. I'm certain Reno wants this 1000 times more than I do. The number of people with this on their wish list is staggering. I want to not worry about the economy, the cost of health care and whether I'll die of taxation instead of natural causes.

Yes, Santa, I'm feeling a little bitchy right now. If tonight was Christmas Eve I'd caution you to think twice about the cookies and milk. They might leave a bitter taste in your mouth.

No, Santa, I'm not usually like this. I try so hard to say on the nice list. Of late many of us are bearing more weight on our shoulders than you carry in your sleigh. And right now a well said Ho-Ho-Ho isn't going to mean jack-chit. Maybe I should be sending this letter to the White House instead of the North Pole. But at least, I know you'll read this.

Perhaps now that I've vented, writing a happy holidays letter will be easier. For I know, in my heart of hearts, we are blessed. But sometimes crabby happens even in this seasons of all seasons. I promise if I encounter you in the house delivering gifts not to bitch-slap you. And, I'll tell the dogs not to growl at you either. Well, no promises with Sophie, she doesn't much like men. Even ones bearing gifts.

Six Weeks

Hard to believe it but the 21 pointador puppies I wrote about are six weeks old now. Six weeks! Just that fast. Okay, so perhaps it's been a long six weeks for the foster mom and the puppies Mom's.

Several have adoptions pending, but not all. It's time for them to find forever homes, or foster homes. These pups are somewhat centrally located. They are in Colorado. But the pups have no preconceived notion about what geographic region they want to settle in. I bet they would like to be there by Christmas, or shortly there after. Perhaps Santa can move some by sleigh.

No, I'm not saying giving/getting a puppy for a Christmas gift is a good idea. Unless you are prepared to make a life long commitment to the puppy. Just sayin' these pups need to be moved somewhere and the sooner the better.

I have to say pointers, and Labradors, are a couple of my favorite breeds. So these mixes of the two breeds give them good looks, temperament, stamina, athleticism, hunt ability and a good chance for the side splitting antics. That would be the pointer genes, no doubt.

Look at these faces, awwwwwww, too stinking cute. Look into your heart. Do you need a new best friend? Would you be willing to foster? Here's your chance, let the fun begin. To adopt, or foster please contact: www.pointerrescue.org

Hand Me Downs

Several years ago, before Sidney, Hank and Sophie, we fostered the skinniest pointer boy we'd ever seen. His name is Pete. He had a lucky red collar and was the most handsome pointer ever to come through our door. Shhh......don't tell the other dogs I said that.

Pete left the flatlands of NE to live the good life in The Big Apple. After he settled in his owners returned Pete's lucky collar to us. You might say it was a hand-me down from a really cool dog. Hank wears Pete's lucky collar now. We think it's cool.

To my suprise I had an email that Pete had outgrown his winter coat. I was amazed, no doubt the birthday lamb chops had something to do with this! They wondered if Sophie could use his old coat. I think she would probably swim in it, but, Mr. Hanky could use a coat for the bitter NE winters.

It seems most fitting (pun intended) that the dog who wears Pete's lucky collar should also wear his winter coat. Proof that the distance between hearts joined by dogs is very short. And that, sharing, hand-me downs, hand-me ups, or hand-me overs can warm both hearts and souls.

Free Dog - Update

Good news, my phone call "free dog" from the other morning is being accepted into Great Plains Pointer Rescue. That is a huge relief, and no doubt a blessing for this dog. Kudo's to the gang at Great Plains!!!

Knowing this makes that 5:30am phone call all worth while. Just being part of that team made a difference. Sure, I still wish I could have just said yes, I'll take the dog. But, sometimes you just have to know your limits.

This is one of the celebratory moments in rescue. The satisfaction of knowing you played a tiny role in making a huge difference in an animals life. An accumulation of tiny forward movements spell new homes and second chances. I'm all for that.

Random Thots

I for one am thankful no one called at 5am this morning trying to give me their dog. I am thankful Sophie was quiet all night or I'd be calling someone to take this dog.

Sophie's been with us since last January. I don't think I need to send a memo to her about what our "normal" sleeping hours are, but since we got back from Maui she has decided she likes being up at 2am. For the record, I don't.

Personally I think Sophie sleeps all but two hours a day. She gets both her allotted amount of sleep and mine. Nice to know she's sleeping vicariously for me. It did occur to me with the onset of cold weather she is not getting her daily "look at me run like a crazy girl" time in the yard. If we can't challenge her physically, we need to do so mentally.

We (Reno - not to name names) had been lax in working on confidence training with her in the evenings. So last night he got his little bowl of dog cookies, and a some mini marshmallows out and worked with her. There is something so endearing about seeing a grown man laying on the floor with a mini marshmallow on his nose for a shy dog to snarf up. Thankfully, she also has a very soft mouth. It is almost like a moth taking the treat from Reno's face. Making her think about getting those treats, and work up her courage to do so, is the equivalent of the zoomies in the yard for her.

Of late she's been a pill about going into her crate at bedtime too. Must be payback for us being gone for a few days. Helloo Sophie - we've been crating you at night forever. Or since January, which ever comes first. I don't for a moment believe you have forgotten this. Such a stubborn girl sometimes. Oh wait, perhaps if I said such a girl - the stubborn part would have been obvious. Either way, you get crated at night Little Missy. You can go on your own, or with assistance.... Assistance it is.

Assistance, the thought of it is sometimes hard to embrace. And yet, that is what we are here to do. To help others get through their fears, their worries, their walls. On a small scale it's helping a dog into her crate at night, on a large scale it's reaching out to those in need. If we are loving people, it's what we do.

Free Dog

I've worked in rescue for years now, and frankly I'm beginning to worry about myself.

Okay, let me back up. I had a guy call me about a dog he is trying to rehome. Not so unusual in rescue. But, he called me at 5:30am and asked if I could just take his 10 yr old Pointer. Helllooooo!!! First I wanted to scream "do you know what time it is"? Then I wanted to throttle him for being willing to give his dog away. He has her listed for Free on Craigslist. Rolling eyeballs, fuming at the injustice, seething at the situation, not to mention wanting that last hour of sleep he denied me.

This is wrong, wrong I tell you. Still, he is trying, rather than just dumping her somewhere or being oblivious to her needs. I almost said yes - part of me wishes I had. Why?? To protect the dog from an owner with no social graces? To give her what she needs and deserves - crikey she's 10 yrs old!

What scares me is I wanted to say yes so badly. Kudos to the guy for the element of surprise the 5:30am call presented. Maybe he's smarter than the average bear. Catch 'em off guard, dangle a dog, especially an old dog and voila, problem solved.

If only we could just take all the dogs in need. If that was the case Boomer from OK, Colonel from IN and this female from IA would be in residence right now. Reality finally woke up and I heard myself tell this guy, no, I can't just take your dog. Yes, I said it tactfully, although there was an edge to my response. And rightfully so.

I can't just take your dog. I can only do so much, feed so many, save so many, try to help so many. So I did the best I could - I recommended an awesome rescue program. Now I just pray this dog finds her way there. Please Lord, please St. Francis, please all the angels in the universe.....help this dog, and all the others so desperately in need find their way to rescue.

In Need

To be brutally honest the economy sucks. Okay, so not exactly a news flash. Many of us are feeling the pinch, and frankly, pinch doesn't begin to describe it.

If there is one thing rescue groups are always in need of it is Foster Homes. If there is another it is support of those very same foster homes. If you cannot foster yourself, would you consider supporting those who do?

You could write a huge check to your favorite rescue and believe me two footed and four footed creatures will do the happy dance. You can make a small donation and that too will make tails wag on earth and in heaven.

There are foster homes greatly in need and seriously in danger of losing their homes to foreclosure. There are foster homes trying to juggle how to pay the bills and feed the dogs. Many across the country are in this boat. Some though, have also committed to helping animals in need.

Many rescue programs offer the option to sponsor specific fosters. You know the adorable little dog/cat you'd love to adopt? But the time isn't right? You could (yes, its true!) you could still help! A donation can provide food, toys and assist with medical needs. If fostering is not an option at this point in your life, would you open your heart to assisting those who do? Seriously you can make a difference!

You could save a life without having to clean up any puddles or piles of poo! Behind every animal up for adoption is a foster home willing to put their love on the line. Your support matters. Your support is crucial.

Spoken for foster homes everywhere....and followed up by the pleading of deep brown puppy dog eyes in need.

Yard Detail

Of all the times of the year, this is my favorite for yard clean up. Short of the dog's bagging their own poop that is. Since that is not likely to happen today was the next best thing.

Sunny, not cold enough to need a heavy coat, no gloves, frozen turds. It doesn't get any better than that. Isn't it nice to know I haven't lost my sense of humor? I still don't know why scooping poop is such an introspective task for me. Yet, somehow it is. I do know why it's a one-woman job....because Reno's a smart man. Truth be told he does the trash every week, so I can't point any fingers.

Perhaps I am simply more skilled at yard detail. Or, it could be he knows the time in the yard, with me and the poop, makes my brain work. Good to know something does that.

In a perfect world the dogs would clean up after themselves. In a less perfect world, but one I could easily adapt to, Reno, or a yard service would clean it up. Okay, that will happen when I win the lottery.

Until then I'll try to find some peace in the poop. A satisfaction from spending time in the yard, with the dogs participating in their canine recycling program. They say life is in the details. From the number of "details" I scooped up - life is pretty good around here.

Life Changing Experiences

It was one of those gifts life sometimes presents to you. After all, it's not everyday (thank God!) that you drive off a one lane mountain road backwards, plunge 150' and walk away from it. It was a moment of terror that was orchestrated by the hands of hundreds of angels who guided our journey. This happened five days ago and I/we are still trying to wrap our head around it. Why did it happen, why did we survive, what are the gifts this experience brings us.

Life is like this. Ordinary one moment, extraordinary the next. The angels come in many shapes and sizes. Some are two footed, many in my life are four footed. They can be complete strangers or dear friends. They may be fleeting encounters or life-long companions.

I have a greater compassion for those road-side crosses people built for those who did not survive. Emergency responders said "wow, we almost never get to stand around and talk to people who go off the road around here". I would like to hope we wouldn't need such a dramatic event to draw us to gratitude.

But sometimes events like this happen. Life changing events. Some just walk away, some walk away infused with gratitude. I know which camp I fall in.

So on this Thanksgiving Day - I have a list of things I'm thankful for that is too long to include in this blog. Perhaps a lifetime would not be long enough to express them all. It will be my goal to try and I begin that with a profound "thank you God".

Ebb & Flow

I love the words ebb and flow. I think they would be good names for dogs. Flow would have awesome recalls and Ebb would be a wonderful retriever.

Without ebb and flow we wouldn't be where we are today. I have to wonder which I am best at. Ideally, I would have a good balance of ebb and flow. Ironically, perhaps humorously, I do not. I seem to flow all over the place and need to work on my ebb.

One has to wonder what the larger plan is as today while driving we went off a narrow one lane road and flowed about 150' down an embankment. For a while there it didn't look good, but thankfully we all walked away from the experience. Guardian angels held our hands and many came to our assistance. Several locals called out
"Welcome to Maui" after confirming we were okay, and two offered to share their pot with us. Hospitality comes in many shapes and forms. One kindly drove us 18 miles back to town.

For some reason our journey held some bumps and turns. And more excitement that one ever anticipated. Let it be said though, our gratitude for surviving is as deep as the ocean and as wide as the horizon.

Resting Places

We could all stand to have more resting places. Whether they are temporary, final, transitional, familial or just familiar places our hearts and souls go to rest - we need to embrace them.

Today we made a journey to Haleakala, to the crater at the summit of this volcano, on the island of Maui. It was a trip to lay my Uncle to rest in a place his heart and soul found to be a peaceful sanctuary.

It is an area of rugged beauty, zig zagging roads, and a climb to 10,023' above sea level. We started from so many places in life and journeys through it. We came to celebrate one life and release it into the great beyond.

For me, one doesn't just visit a volcano on a regular basis. Actually, never before, and who knows perhaps never again. That in itself was a tender moment. It had all that one might require for a place to rest, and a resting place. There were people who cared deeply, a life loved and lost, wine to toast sweet memories and the words of e e cummings that said "I carry you in my heart".

In actuality, he rests in hearts. He rests, he simply rests. He will be with us, in our hearts whether we are in our homes, on the volcano, or near the beach. He rests, thus, so can we.

So Busy

Ever get so busy you feel like you are on an escalator and can't get off? Ever feel like you don't know how to relax? Ever feel like your nose is always to the grind stone? Ever feel like months fly by and suddenly you've lost whole seasons?

Raising hands and waving the white flag. Surrendering is good. I need to do it more often. Taking a deep, cleansing breath......ahhhhhh......nice.

This is what I've learned this week. Nothing I do is so important that someone couldn't step in and do just as good, if not better than I do. I'm dispensible and that's okay. I'm not paid enough to bend over backwards and do back flips. My best on any day is good enough.

The dogs, and those who love me, will take me as I am, wag their tails and think I'm the best thing since sliced bread. I will take comfort in them, and they in me. I can let go and let God. I can let go and relax. I can let go and laugh. And, I'll do it in the company of dogs and those who bless my life.

Hello Beaches

It's countdown time until we jet off to sunshine and beaches. We are so excited! We are, sort of, lining things up. Laying out clothing - which is easy. It's fun to pack shorts when the weather is forcing your wardrobe into pants and sweatshirts. It's like thumbing your nose at Mother Nature.

The only hard part is leaving the pups. Admittedly I'm wondering if I will be able to get a doggy fix while I am gone. Sure hope so. In addition, I worry about leaving the dogs behind. They are like kids, except ones that can be crated if necessary. Naturally, I think they will only thrive if I am around! I know they won't go hungry, won't be starved for attention, won't wail and moan because we aren't the ones filling the dog bowls. They will have in home care, probably will get away with murder, and get extra goodies. Us being gone will be a vacation for them.

No doubt they are planning for it. Whohoo The Crazy Lady and Scary Man will be gone. The dog sitter is a wee bit naive about the house rules. Hehehehheeeee.....Mick is winking knowingly at Sophie. Let the fun begin! Give the sitter the sad eyed look and she'll fold! Extra treats, no coming when called, sleeping on pieces of furniture we'd never get away with usually. Animal Channel non-stop and no silly football games.

When Hank says to Mick "I really miss Mom, do you?" Mick will look him right in the eye and say "Mom who?" Wait, I didn't need to hear that.

Time away will be good for us. A change of scenery makes home look even better. We'll be rested and refreshed. Someday we will get to hit the beaches with our beloved pets with us. Until that day, they need to behave, stay healthy and try to be good dogs. Let me say that again "try" to behave, "try" to be good dogs, and definitely stay healthy. They will be fine....and so will we.

Boring Is in the Eye of the Beholder

I admit to looking as some other blogs lately. I've decided in comparison mine are quite tame, bordering on boring. There is no sex, drugs or rock-n-roll. Precious little swearing. A friend, also in rescue, leads a life parallel to mine. Her blog is way more colorful, in fact, if you need your hair curled I'd recommend her blog.

Perhaps I don't think in those extremes. I certainly don't speak in that way. I think that's a good thing. Her blog is perfect for her, and hopefully, mine is for me. I do admit to a little jealousy though. It takes a certain wit and talent to string a series of curse words together into a string of verbal pearls.

Maybe her approach to similar subject matter is more explosive because she doesn't take things in stride. Maybe mine is more tame because I do. Maybe I shouldn't even compare the two!

In my wildest dreams the dogs, and the blogs, lead me to publishing these verbal Tete-e-Tete's. In my more temperate dreams the blog has hundred's of followers and leads me to publication. In my mildest dreams they share my love of dogs, increase knowledge of rescue programs, promote some humor and garnish some comments.

Failing all that, I spend some time with the voices in my head that tell me to write. I think it's important to pay attention to the voices in my head. So write I do.

What IF

What if no one ever wants to adopt Sophie? Or any foster dog we care for? Sophie is a good case in point, because she is a bit of a challenge. She is not the type that adapts easily. Adaptability is a good quality in a foster dog. Or a spouse, teacher, boss, friend, coworker, child....you get my drift. Adaptability is a good quality.

Maybe she ended up in rescue because she lacks this skill. Hank ended up in rescue, I believe, because he has cancer. Mick did because he was the last of a litter and the farmer couldn't find a home for him. Pete entered rescue because of divorce. Sidney was dumped because he sunburned easily and lacked the drive to be a good hunter. Kobe was a prince in hobo's clothing who was abused and abandoned.

All entered rescue for one reason or another. Some found homes within months, some much longer. A fellow foster home inquired how long it takes for our dogs to find homes. I think she was looking for encouragement and a definite answer. It takes as long as it takes and sometimes longer. Probably not the answer she was looking for.

All I can say is what if? What if these dogs never entered my life? What if they never got a second chance. What if Sophie is always the way she is. Is she adoptable yes! Is she adorable - totally. She, like many rescue dogs, simply require an adopter with a larger than normal heart. Someone not looking for a perfect dog, but rather a dog who is perfect for them.

None of us are perfect. Sophie may not adapt easily, but she is perfect for someone who wants a little bit of a pointer with a huge quotient of personality and affection. She adapts in her own way and on her own time table. Proof that there are great rewards for patience and persistence. A perfect dog would lack the volumes of character that come with her. That is a politically correct way to say she's a little nut case in a cute wrapper. But for now she's our little nut case, and in time she will be someone elses little nutcase. We just need to find that special person. I have no doubt we will.

My Apologies to the Horse

Remember that little girl who adored horses and wanted one in the worst way? She ate, drank and slept horses. The closest she ever got was owning a stick horse. She joined a 4-H group for horses even though she never owned one. In 4-H discussions she new as much about horses as one could learn from books. Just being close to them and talking them was her bliss. Perhaps I forgot to mention that girl is me.

Fast forward to now. A friend of mine is the grown up version of that little girl She invited me to go riding with her. At first I was excited, then I was fearful. In fact, I was relieved when my schedule delayed our ride! But then the time was right and I had the courage to go for it. My only comment at this point is my apologies to the horse!

I had a great time! Although, at first I was just happy to sit in the saddle. Alright, I was delighted I was able launch myself into the saddle. I asked if there was a hydraulic lift to get me up there. I was told there was a saddle block. I thought that was a kind of anesthetic. That might have been helpful too. The horse stood there like a statue while I settled in. Okay, I could have just sat there for two hours and been happy. But my friend was less enthralled with that method of riding.

So off we went. May I say it was a great time. Yes, I'd do it again. Plus, 9 days later all my tender spots are gone! I am not a woos, I am not a woos! It was simply the equine version of the Princess and the Pea.

However, if horse had the option to take me for a ride again, he might just feign colic. Kudos to the horse for being both experienced and patient. For being sure footed and well mannered. Thanks to my riding partners for taking good care of this tender foot. And, for the timely advice to try to always keep the horse between me and the ground. Good advice, good friends, good fun.....and one happy little rider.

Treats

Treats come in all shapes and forms. Right now, the dogs are enjoying Kong's frozen with mashed potato's and dog biscuits in them. I guess they are lucky I shared the spuds with them. There wasn't much left, and I thought about slurping them down myself. I gave it serious consideration, you know, to share or not to share. But most evenings they get Kong's with goodies in it, and potato's definitely qualify as a goodie!

At this time of night they need something to challenge their brains a bit. Keeping them occupied is important because my brain at this time doesn't need any more challenges. So it's a win-win situation. For me it's a treat to be left alone. For them it's a treat to work on and consume.

When I think about Sophie when she entered foster care, I can see she's come a long way. She didn't know what treats were back then. Now she's doing the happy dance when the Kong's come out of the freezer. In a way, giving treats is as much fun as getting them. Well, sometimes it is.

The Kong fun lasts for maybe 15 minutes, give or take. Then they start rotating Kong's hoping to get one more last bit of yummy out. Then they mill around on the off chance a treat fell to the floor and no one noticed. Not like that happened, but they search just in case.

Thus ends the day here. Goodies in Kong's, weary brains and tired bodies. What a treat.

Things That Mess With Your Head

This morning Day Light Savings comes to mind. I get the premise. But anyone with kids or dogs can give up the ghost of "getting" an extra hour of sleep when you fall back in the Fall. The dog's don't know or care about that. I'm pretty sure teenagers dig it, but they can sleep through anything. Of course, I neglected to set my clock back when I went to bed, so I got up earlier than I really had to. The dogs didn't care though. Time is time to them and it was feeding time for the love of Dog.

This week Sophie learned to drink from the toilet. With her petite frame it is no easy task. A friend of mine refers to it as the punch bowl. Perhaps only dog lovers will find the humor in that. Since Sophie can't reach the sink to refill the water bowl, I think finding the punch bowl and serving herself is the next best thing.

Change of seasons also mess with my head. In the store we are changing everything out from Halloween to Christmas. What amazes me is that consumers are jumping right in and buying it. Really, that is a good thing! But, I'm still wondering where August and September went. I'm also trying to make mental notes about what is popular this season, so I can buy again for next season. It seems I'm always way ahead of the current season, or way behind. I'm not sure which. And when the reason for the season arrives I'm too tired to enjoy it.

So perhaps the challenge is to embrace each day as a season. Each day an opportunity to dip into the punch bowl of life. Maybe Sophie has a lesson for us. Find the bowl, partake, try not to fall in, celebrate that which rehydrates us. To that I add punch bowls come in many shapes and sizes. Thankfully they are not all toilets! Some are, some aren't. Find time to mess with life, rather than letting it mess with your head.

The Big Lonely

What if inside each of us Is the Big Lonely.....It could be the Big Lonely hole from neglect, hurt, abuse, or lack of any of the important facets that help us grow whole and happy.

Sometimes the lonely is easy to mask. Other times the lonely weighs heavy on our heart. Sometime the big lonely is vast as the universe. Sometimes you look like you have a firm grasp on reality, but you feel lost and sad.

I know these feelings. We all do. There it's out there....phfewww. I often tell myself...self, you shouldn't feel this way. Self, you are blessed beyond measure. Self, you have so much. Yet, there are still those other feelings to be worked through.

We all have valid griefs and losses on the path of life. In the interest of moving away from those discomforts, we sometimes dodge working through them. Sophie, runs from most everything and in the processes misses out on a lot of love. Reno has loved her all these months she's been with us. Her fear keeps her from being lavished with love from a kind gentle man.

So what fears keep us - you/me/we from being lavished with love? And, more importantly, how do we release the Big Lonely and move towards the love available to us?

Life Challenges

This blog is written in honor of the struggles we each face. For those with health issues, for those struggling to find work, for those who feel discouraged, for those grieving.

I will not deny the magnitude of those struggles. A lot of the time we keep putting one foot in front of the other, sometimes by choice, sometimes for lack of a better option. They test our strength, our faith, our endurance, and oh Lordy, our patience.

For every challenge I can find blessings within. But that does not mean there are not days where we falter and wonder if things will ever change. People bear incredible trials. There are situations beyond our comprehension. Yet, there are people who magnify all that is good in life. Not because their life has been a walk in the park. But, because, their have found the park in their life walk.

Therein lies the challenge.

500 Times

Hmmmm. 500 times I've sat down to share my thoughts with you. Amazing. 500 times and I'm still talking to myself, to you. Basically writing down what those voices in my head tell me too. Will they ever cease?? I hope not.

Let me clarify. I have written 500 blogs on this site. There were a whole bunch of them on another small site that are lost in space because I never printed them out. Shame on me. It isn't really that "sites" fault. It's mine for not printing them out and/or backing them up. All of this started because of some time on my hands, some stories about dogs, and experiences in life. I figure maybe my lessons would be helpful to others. Could be my education might help someone else. Hopefully, my life-capades make someone else smile a wee bit.

I do know how to laugh. Life is pretty funny. Ironic, painstakingly precise in providing moments humbling enough to crush you, but none-the-less worthy of laughter. Mostly because laughter is generally better than tears.

If there were an Academy Award for blogs I can picture myself on the stage accepting it. A bit wobbly on my heels, dressed to the nines in a svelte red gown with white pointer fur on it. Alright, in the interest of honesty, very wobbly on heels, lots of dog fur, and svelte?? Hahahhahaaaa.....

But the speech would be the same. I'd like to thank those who find some truth in my words, some laughter in my journey and some joy in dogs. Dog have brought out the best of me, define the best of me and have endured the best of me. Thanks be to Dogs. Thanks be to God. Thanks be to the people who read my blogs.

Talk Nice

Funny how slow we are to talk nice. It's so much easier to dish the dirt on someone. How many of us would love to have their spouse, boss, friend, brother, sister, neighbor say something nice to them? Some of us are lucky in that regard, just as some of us are starving for affirmation.

My challenge for you. Say something nice to someone. Better yet, let me know the response you got. I haven't mentioned lately - but I love comments on my blog. I can only hope you learn from, laugh, appreciate more, or love more deeply from something I have written.

If I make even a tiny difference it's a good thing. If you rethink how you feel about yourself, your attitude or your life I've done good. If you find a greater joy in your pets, all the better. If you are moved to adopt a rescue dog or foster then I'll do back flips. Well, not physically, because that would result in traction for my back.

If you can't adopt, or foster - many rescues have a "virtual foster" option. Say you have some expendable income (lucky you!) and want to help a foster home with medical, food, or just some fun toys for the pups. You can help in that way. Isn't that nice?

So, talk nice. In that way we both make a difference.

My Dog is Catholic

Several weeks ago I was asked, during a pet therapy visit, if Hank was Methodist. I said no, with complete certainty.

Today, I discovered that Mickey is Catholic. I should have seen this coming. Sometimes I am a slow learner. I've been alternating doing the visits between Hank and Mick. Mick is 8 now, I think he's slowing down some on his enthusiasm for the visits. Hank is younger, but with his health issues he may only be able to do this for a while. He is such a people pointer I wanted to give him a chance to shine, and people a chance to experience some Mr. Hanky love.

Trouble is Mick knows which day of the week is Tuesday. He knows what time the visit is. It was when I put the bandanna on Hank today that I realized Mickey was Catholic. Wham!!! It hit me. Bammm!!! Mick give me a look that sent me in a downward spiral of guilt. Only a Catholic dog could do this. What else could it be? I know this guilt, as I was raised Catholic. I still eat fish on Friday's during Lent, otherwise the guilt kills me.

I must surmise he is Catholic, or was raised Catholic, but since he's a rescue I may never know. Catholic nun's and Mothers everywhere would applaud the look he gave me today. It was a doozy. I apologized profusely then and when we returned. I'm not sure he bought it. Maybe I'll try three Our Father's and a couple Hail Mary's for good measure.

2 Moms - 21 Pups

Yes, you read that right. Pointer Rescue Organization took in two pregnant females who gave birth to 21 puppies. Holy buckets of puppies.

Yep, we knew they were pregnant when we accepted them into our program. Both the Moms are heart worm+ and one has double cherry eye. They had a lot going against them, but thankfully has PRO going for them.

This is proof the lines of rescue are not always clear cut. But the need is always obvious and decisive. The pup's are lab/pointer mixes. Wowser Bowser, that's a great mix of breeds!!

All told we can make a difference in the lives of 23 dogs, and the humans who adopt them. In the meantime, our greatest needs is assistance for their care. Food, supplies, a heap load of blessings on their current foster Mom, foster homes for the pups when they are old enough to wean, adoptive homes, did I mention donations for medical care for the Mom's of the pups??

Imagine 21 pups rolling in play, 21 pups whimpering, 21 pups huddled in sleepy piles, 21 piles of you know what. Imagine helping us help the pups. Imagine yourself going to our website: www.pointerrescue.org to help with these wonderful dogs.

It's a win-win situation and you can make a difference. Imagine 21 little balls of soft fur and all that sweet puppy breath. Ahhhh.....puppy breath.

Just Ahead of Us

I am blessed. The store I work in is not only family run, but also animal friendly. Well behaved dogs are always welcome to shop as long as they bring their owner with them.

In the back offices, one of the family dogs is often in residence. You might find him resting on a large dog bed in the office, or pushing the swinging doors open with his nose to head down to the framing department. While he was dieting, there were notes posted in the breakroom reminding us not to feed him extra goodies. That took such will power. He's been known to leave the building of his own accord, leaving us in a panic until he was located. When he wanted a walk, and saw an open door he went for it. His approach to life was walks first, business later.

This special team member has done more for store morale that he will ever know. At 14 yrs old, he greeted many, many employees and customers over the years. He met them with dignity, patience and a wag of his yellow lab tail.

This week he went on his last walk. The walk over the Rainbow Bridge. Our hearts grieve for his owners, and for Happer himself. But I know, as sure as he was loved, that he is not really gone. No, he is not gone, he is just ahead of us on the trail.

So if you should think you catch a glimpse of him ahead, in the field, trotting down the hallway, or out the door, take comfort. He resides with us still, and always will.

Questions, Questions and More Questions

I often get questions about my dogs while doing pet therapy visits. The most common are, of course, name, rank and serial number. Oh wait, name, age and breed. I have logged many visits with my pointers Kobe, Mick and now Hank. I'm used to the questions. Such as....is that a Dalmatian? No, not all spotted dogs are Dalmatians. Is that a Brittany? Springer? Lab? Great Dane? I had to laugh at that one. Great Dane - not hardly. Most assume they are German Shorthair Pointers. I say English Pointers with as much decorum as an Englishman could muster.

Many assume these are dogs looking for homes. May I just say over my dead body! Do they bite? Not bloody likely. Some people want to know if they do tricks. Besides shaking hands/paws, mine aren't exactly America's Got Talent material. One of the members in our group has a dog that rolls over, prays, sits pretty, shakes and speaks. My guys look cute and are well behaved. I tell them not to stress about the over achievers. They will still get the same number of treats at the end of the visit. I did have someone ask recently if Hank was Methodist. My reply was that he is non-denominational. Frankly, if all dogs go to heaven it doesn't matter what faith he is.

Many ask what skills are needed to be a therapy dog. How do I get them to be so quiet and well mannered. I always say they've had basic training, they have been screened for temperament, they have a reference from their vet, and finally, I wouldn't expect any less than that from them. So much has to do with a sound temperament, good socialization, and the expectation that they will behave. That is not to say they are perfect. They are not.

There are times they act like I speak Greek and they can't understand a word I'm saying. Luckily most of those times happen at home, particularly when we have company. Overall, I think they save all their good behavior up for that one hour a week we do our visit. I don't have a problem with that.

Truthfully, I love talking about my dogs, your dogs and dogs in general. I don't mind the questions, they go with the territory. Dogs visiting hospitals - yup, our kind of territory.

Discouraged

Have you ever had the wind taken out of your sails. Are you currently discouraged? Have you felt demoralized? Look at these words. Dis - couraged. I hate when someone dis's my courage. De- moralized. It sucks when my morale dis-appears. I depend on it to be my Energizer Bunny.

I rarely feel discouraged or demoralized in relation to the dogs. They get A+ in motivation. They get A+ in empathy and encouragement. Some days it makes you wish you could just hole up with the pups and forget about mankind. Ain't that the truth?

Wouldn't it be nice if our bosses, spouses, or relations were dogs? Unless, of course, they had the tendency to nip or growl. Hmmmm, maybe they do. But, heck, we could discipline them and retrain them. At the very least we could crate them.

It's hard when you lose your momentum to discouragement. It happens to all of u. It happens in friendships, in our faith life, with our boss, parents, kids...just about anybody. It happens.

I guess I/you/me/we have to decide. We have chose to move past the loss of courage, the decrease of morale. Perhaps we can do that by being more dog-like. For the most part they forget the dis-moments and embrace the bliss moments. So can we. We can regroup, rethink, recharge and renew. Dis-moments are pretty much hit and miss moments. Learn from them and let them go.

Thanks Mickey

On the days I get to sleep in Reno always closes the door to keep the dogs out of the bedroom. After he feeds them Mickey always barges in anyway. Either he has thumbs I am not aware of, or he just pushes until the door is forced open. Today was one of those days. I can't complain. He jumped up and snuggled in, we had a wonderful cuddle. Life is good with a dog curled up beside you.

All the pointers who have graced my life have Mickey to thank. He was my first, he is the one who opened the door. He is the one who brought that pointer passion into my life.

Without Mick, there would not have been Kobe, Jackson, Buddy, Bo, Pete, Sidney, Hank or Sophie in my life. Mick set the bar. Of course, the bar was sometimes ridiculously low, and other times incredibly high. It was a bar full of humor and patience. It was a bar that includes blankets with some holes chewed in them. And a nice wool blazer with holes in the pockets. He does have a thing for Kleenex left in pockets. I'd have to say that is Mick's one vice. I think we are all allowed to have at least once vice. Most of us have several.

Who would have thought a liver and white boy dumped by a farmer who couldn't find a home for him could bring such joy? I had no idea when I said yes to Mick, how much I was opening my heart too. But, I'm ever so grateful I did.

Company

Two out of three of our resident dogs must have been WalMart Greeters in another lifetime. Not your basic WalMart Greeter either. We're talking wiggle their butt off, do the happy dance, "look Mom we have company", boy howdy they are here to see me, ain't life grand greeters.

The third pup in residence is a remedial learner, but we love her anyway. It's not that she doesn't have good examples to follow. The fact that she resides under my desk or in her crate definitely factors in. If company does come when she's outside her mission is to break the sound barrier to get inside as quickly as possible.

Not all of us are extroverts. Some reserve judgement routinely. Some, like Mick and Hank never met anyone who wasn't a friend. They make friends before you even say hello. They anticipate the good and get it back in spades. Perhaps it's all in the company we keep. I love my little introvert and my social extroverts. I learn from both approaches to life.

I do draw the line at standing on the driveway and wagging my butt off when company comes. I'm no less excited than they are, but just not cute enough to pull that off. Their enthusiasm is contagious. Ya gotta love that.

It's all About Attitude

Sophie is on a different time table than Mick and Hank. By 8pm at night the boys are down for the count. About 9pm Sophie gets her second wind and is ready to roll.

Here is the visual. The boys sleeping on the sofa. One on each side like book ends. Sophie will come down and bark at Mick. Bark and bark and bark until he gets up and leaves the couch. Then it's on to Hank. Same treatment. Woof woof woof woof woof...until Hank too leaves his warm cozy place and she takes control of the sofa like a canine version of Queen of the Hill. I'm sure she busts out into song as soon as she takes possession singing, most aptly, "We Are the Champions"....by Queen.

Following the sofa ritual it's often time to wrestle with the Sooner throw rug. It has been wrestled into submission countless times. Or, with an available Croc or two if no one is looking. Other times she'll get the zoomies and run laps like there is no tomorrow.

My guess is Hank and Mick are saying "what? what?? what??? what got into that little bitch". Or, "Watch out crazy female coming through". "Move it, move it, move it....protect yourself, run for cover!" Or...."who said she gets the couch? We were here first!! Mom!!!! Make her stop!"

Hank and Mick may have been here first, but Sophie definitely owns the place. Ya gotta love seeing this little bit of Pointer stand up and take ownership.

Name Tags

All my dogs wear name tags. Which is funny, because my dogs can't read. Still it's good they have a tag that tells people who to call should they ever go AWOL.

The funny part is we recycle name tags. I figure what is most important is that my information is current, not so much that the dog name is current. So Hank wears Pete's name tag. And Pete's lucky collar. Sophie wears Abby's name tag. Mick luckily has his own tag. Should someone find them, and call them by those other names, I have no doubt my dogs will act like they've never heard that name before. I don't expect them too.

We all have tags we wear, and sometimes they don't reflect who we really are. Sometimes we understand our tags, sometimes we are clueless. If Sophie knew Abby, she'd be darned honored to wear her tag. If Hank knew Pete, he'd be busting his buttons with pride.

Bottom line the tags tie them to me. I hope and pray we never need those tags, but they are there just in case. The other tag my dogs wear says "I saved a human". Everyday they save me from taking life too seriously. They save me from boredom, from having vast amounts of expendable income, from being cold and/or lonely. They save me from ever sleeping in too, we need to have a talk about that.

They tag my heart with love, and I hope I tag them half as well. Their tag could just as easily say "I am well loved". Can we hope for anything more than that?

Bus Full O'Boston's

I/we have done a transport or two in our time. We've hauled Labs, Golden's, all American's, Setters, Pointers and then some. Most are memorable trips and the feeling of gratification is profound. Each transport is unique. Like the three-legged dog (who's name escapes me), or the trip with the 4 dogs that included one female in heat, one male aggressive dog and one female who didn't like human males. There was the time I broke the relay person's glasses during the hand off. Egads, I'm still sorry about that little incident.

This morning we hauled four Boston's to Lincoln, about an hour away from home. We figured it would be a piece of cake. We figured wrong. There were two six month old puppies, a senior girl who's tongue stuck out the whole time. We think she was giving the whole world raspberries. Plus another female named Angel. One must always wonder about dog's named Angel.

The hand off was interesting. Four drivers with dogs in tow. Each dog with a bag of vet records and kibble. Two crates, a box of something traveling with the dogs going on to Colorado. Extra leashes. We brought water and water bowl.

Crate use was optional. We hadn't even left the parking lot when one of the dogs horked down Reno's arm. You may have heard the swearing. First stop was to buy paper towels. Note to self, pack paper towels next transport. Cleaned up first mess and hit the interstate for the run down to Lincoln. Dogs all settled, three in a huddle. Fourth one settles on top of a crate. No doubt the best position to give other travelers raspberries from. Yes, I was worried a sudden stop would jettison her off the crate. No, we didn't try to remove her because crawling into the back and over the pile of dogs didn't seem viable.

Part way there one dog, or was it two? takes a crap in the back of my truck. This might be a good place to mention Reno's nose is a thousand times more sensitive than mine. The pack is milling around then, giving each a opportunity to walk through said piles. Yes, more cursing.

Then there is the city of Lincoln. We've been there several times. It's always hell. We found our drop off point, but the pick up team couldn't find us. Delay of transport, but an opportunity to clean up the crap. While waiting the horker walks up to the front seat, lets out one little cough and horks yet again, all over my purse. Any reports of a man spewing a barrage of profanity have not been exaggerated.

This transport of dogs sets new records for excitement! Ahhhh.....but the hand off is completed, safely, which always is a relief. Somewhere across the state of NE four little Boston's are hauling butt to their furever homes. Somewhere in NE a truck is having its upholstery cleaned. Somewhere new owners are anxiously waiting their next best friend. I'm happy to have helped make this possible. All things considered, it was worth it. Reno, however, may say otherwise.

Dog Paths

There is a path the dogs run in the yard. They began it when we moved here 10 years ago. Same path, multiple dogs, many years. Grass will never grow there and the dogs rarely deviate from the path. It is the shortest distance from the front yard to the back.

We all have certain paths we use in life. The quickest route from one place to another, from home to work, from work to home. For home to work and back I always take the same route. Any other place I travel I use one route going and another route coming back. It's not a conscious decision - I just do it.

Sophie would not use the regular dog path. The path she has worn into the grass is through the middle of the yard. As far away from whatever she feels is scary. To her it doesn't matter if it's the quickest. In her head it's the safest. Where she goes nothing can jump out and surprise her.

Which path's do we take that "feel" safest? Are they really? What if, for once we embraced all the easy comfortable things, and rejected the scary, emotionally exhausting things.

What if Sophie took the established path? Well for one, the yard wouldn't look like it has a motocross path down the middle. It would still have an obvious path close to the house that hundreds of paws have carved. I wouldn't mind that. Even when the kids were little playing on the grass was way more important to me than having pretty grass. So far be it from me to stress over the path that many happy dog paws have created.

Sophie may never consistently use the "regular" path. She may, over time, use it unconsciously whenever she forgets to be afraid. Perhaps that is my greatest wish for her.....that she forgets to be afraid. In fact, I wish that for all of us.

Feeling the Pain

Into each life a little pain must come. Or, wait...was that "a little rain must fall". Either way sometimes it rains on our parade.

I, for one tolerate pain and rain fairly well. Maybe too well. Sometimes we are meant to slow down for inclement weather. My body has a case of inclement weather right now in the form of shingles. I could continue to truck through my days as I have forever and ever, or I could slow down take a different approach.

I am attempting to opt for the different approach. Usually I am the "I can, I have, I will, I do, I did, nothing is stopping me sort." Perhaps it's time to be the kind to step back and breathe instead. All I really have to do is take care of me first. The rest will fall into place. Hmmmm, take care of me first. What a novel idea.

Each life experiences pain at some point in time. Surely I've seen that from my experience with the dogs and rescue. But what I haven't seen before is that sometimes we all need some rescuing, some time to grow, to learn new ways and to heal. For once I am that timid hurting foster dog that longs for love and a second chance. My day has come.

Favorites

We all have favorites. Somewhere along the way. It is simply a part of life. We have favorite flavors, favorite dog breeds (pointers, duh), favorite sibling/child/grandchild (not mentioning any names here), favorite holidays, favorite colors, favorite shoes (ohhhh shoes!) ....and if we are lucky a favorite Uncle or Aunt.

I lost my favorite Uncle this week. Overall, he is in a better place. Pain free and happy. I wouldn't deny him that. It makes me smile to think of him. I imagine right now he's enjoying a glass of good wine, kicked back on the beach somewhere. If he were to speak something funny would come out of his mouth. It would be a short comment, quietly spoken and guaranteed to make you laugh.

Losing a favorite makes them all the more valuable. Imagine never having your favorite ice cream again? Or waiting for your favorite holiday. Not having it increases its value. We savor it more, honor it, cherish it.

Loss makes us pause. Pausing makes us think. Thinking helps us appreciate. It's good we have favorites. It's especially good to give thanks for them. Remember those who go before us. Remember with a smile....and thanks for time shared.

A Dime

If I had a dime for every time I got up to let dogs in or let dogs out, I'd be living in a large country house on a lake near the mountains with not one, but two doggy doors.

Suffice it to say I make the trip the the door a bazillion times a year. And that is a conservative estimate. Honestly, I should be a lot thinner than I am for just that reason.

I should be thinner, and the carpet should have worn out. The door should have had to be replaced and I've probably worn the soles off of approximately 30 pair of shoes. I'm amazed the steps havent collapsed and the handle broken on the door. Seriously a toll booth at the door - the idea has merit.

Most the time I go cheerfully to the door. Sometimes I admit I go begrudgingly. Other times I drag my weary butt to the door and barely have enough energy to whistle. All this said - I'm not really complaining. Just making an observation. ......just now I jumped up to go let Sophie in. Silly diva was out barking at something in the dark. Evidently I was too comfortable in my chair blogging away.

Letting them in and out, is part of the deal the dogs and I have. I wouldn't trade all the dimes in the world for them, so I guess I'll just keep doing what I do - for the doggies.

Sophie in Public

Some people don't test well. Normal, intelligent, responsive people get into situations where it seems all their brain power vanishes like it never existed. Sophie is that way in public.

We did another adoption event today. Bless her heart she is like a social retard in public. The fact that I am her foster Mom, and that I said "bless her heart" first allows me to insinuate she is somewhat challenged. Today enroute she threw up in her crate. Maybe it was my driving. I'm not sure. Then, as is the case, when we arrived she took an enormous poo in the parking lot. I know this happens, I prepare for it. Still it is amazing the volume she cranks out from sheer stress.

Then she proceeded to tremble the entire time we were there. I think perhaps a convent might be a good home for her. If she never had to leave the convent walls she would be quite happy. Her issues certainly make the other dogs look extremely adoptable.

This event was a new location for her, so of course that added to the stress. But, she did sniff and lip a doggie muffin that a kind lady offered her. She wouldn't eat it, but the fact she acknowledged it was improvement. She even chose to sniff a couple butts. Progress, however minute, is good.

Too bad people don't see the Sophie that lives with us. She is a completely different dog. Not totally confident, but definitely not totally in a dither. Ah well, the challenges of fostering, the joys of loving and the reality of living with Sophie.

Ten Reasons to Foster

Ten reasons to foster an animal....

10. You get more than you give could ever give. Trust me on this one.

9. You save a life. That's priceless.

8. You meet new people and learn new things. We need that in life.

7. You go back to the basics of loving. A timely reminder if there ever was one.

6. You stretch your ability. Always a good thing.

5. You learn how to give just because you can. Even if it's not always
convenient.

4. You save a life. Worth mentioning twice.

3. You help a family find the best friend they are searching for.

2. You discover that the rewards out weigh the challenges.

1. Your love for animals is paid forward each and every time you foster. It's
good karma squared.

New Dog In the Yard

There is a new dog in our yard. Not in terms of physical appearance, but in terms of every other type. We'll call her a confident dog. We'll call her Sophie - Queen of the Yard.

Thanking God I was finally motivated to train her on the Invisible Fence. Laughing (and wondering??)that it took me so long to make this investment in her happiness. She is a new dog I tell you. At least in the yard.

She runs with the biggest smile on her face. If she trips she'll probably bite her tongue off. Makes you wonder what is going through her head these days. Probably something like this - "I'm free, I'm free, I'm freeeeeeeeeeeee". "I can run circles around you lame brain pointer boys." "You talkin to me?? I can out point you guys paws down day in and day out." And, "I've got moves that you've never seen". "Move your butts bozo's, this is my yard".

She is not the shy girl she used to be. Pretty soon she'll be talking smack to the squirrels and making them run for cover. Watch out world - Sophie's got attitude!

Coffee Challenged

In a house where coffee rules, I am coffee challenged. Sure, I've known this for a while. Face it, my Granny put milk in her tea. That probably sealed the deal for me long, long ago.

I'm embarrassed to say I had an out-of-town house guest ask for directions to a local coffee house so she could get a decent cup of coffee. Reno, bless his heart, indulges my coffee preferences. Even though he likes his hot, thick, black, and 24/7 he will make flavored coffee for me.

In all honesty, his flavored coffee is way stronger than my flavored coffee. Being the pansy I am, I also add sugar and flavored creamer to mine. I know, all of Seattle is hurling at the thought of this. Plus it just isn't right unless it's in a pretty cup. The mish mash of sports mugs just doesn't cut it for me.

I discovered something else this morning. Not only do I like my coffee in equal parts, as described above, I usually only drink 1/2 to 2/3 of a cup. The rest I just carry around like a security blanket. It goes room to room with me, sometimes getting reheated. I just know in some third world country a poor soul would cut off his right arm for half a cup of good coffee. That half a cup, of course, being in my cup.

Many would claim I am desecrating good coffee. I beg to differ. I would bet if we put two cups of coffee on the floor, the dogs would drink mine before they would drink Reno's. They would drink mine and say "please, Mum, may we have some more". That extra half a cup of coffee would come in handy then.

Three Noses at The Door

It has been nearly 11 months since Kobe and Maddie crossed the Rainbow Bridge. I can't count the times we look at Hank and see a younger, less war torn version of Kobe. And, we often speak of our "little girl" Maddie with both joy and sadness. Since Sophie joined us, last January, it's been a different experience. I'm glad to say once again we have three happy noses at the door.

In fact, Sophie being so tiny does have a certain advantage. She can squirt between, or under Mick and Hank thus beating them to the door. Who is at the door first is not the same as who goes out the door first. Sophie may push her way to the front, but Hank beats her out of the gate every single time. Mick waits until the heathens have discharged like rockets out the door before he follows on their heels. Either he is much smarter and way more dignified than they are, or he's not competitive in the front door bolt-a-thon.

And yet, when hunting the yard Mick is the leader and they are the followers. Recently, Mick was ferociously hunting a tree frog who'd been frequenting the outdoor water bowl. While in the bowl, the frog had complete immunity. Once in the garden it was game on. Let me tell you, the WWF would have been impressed with Micks moves and tenacity. Hank follows behind as if to say "I've got your back Mick, I've got your back". "Hey Mom, what am I supposed to be doing with Mick anyway????" Sophie clearly is not hunting savvy yet, but she is learning from one master and a minor.

Of the three, Hank excels in being a sponge for human affection. On my lap is not close enough for Hank. Nor is it big enough for Hank. In the same vicinity of me works for Mick, and Sophie flits in and out like a butterfly. So different, and so alike.

However you look at it, there are three dogs at the door again. It pleases me to no end and I trust our dogs who've crossed the bridge approve with all their heart.

Slapped in the Face

I know - not your normal topic for me. In fact, I haven't the foggiest idea on how to work dogs into this blog. Maybe I will, maybe I won't.

Sometimes we get exactly what the title of this blog says. Funny how we never see them coming. Not so funny is what it does to our morale. Morale is such a tricky thing. When it's good, anything is possible and no effort is too much. When it's not good, enthusiasm gets mired down and desire fades in equal measure.

Even when you know you did the best you could, sometimes you get shot down. Hmmmmm, what can I say to make you/me feel better. You are not alone. This feeling won't last forever. You did the best you could with the information you had. They can just go take a big @ss flying leap into a large pile of dog shit. Oh wait, sarcasm overcomes me---but I did bring dogs into this blog!

It is what it is. And, man I hate that saying. Slaps happen. This too shall pass.

3 x 3

Math never adds up exactly like I think it will. Case in point. Three dogs plus three Kong's is more than the sum of it's parts.

This is a very good thing. The cooler temps have unleashed some rowdy dogs. Well, one little rowdy pointer girl who stirs the other two up. Basically, I think Sophie is making up for lost time. All those months with us, and perhaps years elsewhere, where she couldn't be a little wild child are coming to pass. She sometimes needs more channels for her energy than salmon need streams during spawning season. Or maybe, Hank & Mick are old farts who just don't play the same game she does.

But I digress from my mathematical analogy. Three dogs + three stuffed Kong's = unlimited chewing opportunities. The Kong someone else has is just a moment away from being your treat. They take turns with each one. Gotta love that entertainment value. Who knew a couple of dog biscuits and some peanut better would stretch so far.

The pups themselves are full of entertainment value. Add toys and treats and you get more than double the fun. See! More than double, more than 3 + 3. More than one could ever hope for.

Registering a Complaint

I, Sophie, being of sound mind and a resident of the state of NE would like to register the following complaint. I do not make these claims lightly. I don't do anything lightly. I want you to know I'm being tortured. The photo above is my evidence.

As you can tell from my posture I simply can't take any more. When the nice lady put the Gentle Leader on I reached my limit. I place my paw on the side of my crate to brace myself. Seriously??? A device around my muzzle? How much must a girl be expected to take? I gave her the look. But it didn't help.

Today, she took me out in public in it. It's supposed to help me walk nicely in public. To that I say - not so much. I'm sure I heard her say it was like wrestling a barracuda on a leash. Heheheeee....

Not only that she made me wear a vest that covers my lovely cow patches and the Gentle Leader. Jumpin Jehoshaphat it's horrible I tell you. This abuse makes Scary Man look like Mother Theresa.

I ask you this. How can this get up enhance my natural beauty? It can't. It's not fair and I want you to know it.

Sign, Sophie Who Ought Not To Be Treated Like This

Addictions

Hmmmmmmmmmm...... got you thinking? It has been suggested that I am addicted to Face Book. In fact, Reno has said more than once he is a FB widower. I'm not sure I can argue that, but the fact remains I must.

If that is true, and I am owning nothing at this point, he is also a canine widower. Because he often has to wade over or through dogs to get to me. Is this a bad thing - no!!

Basically, FB is my version of TV without the noise. It is the equivalent of football season all year round. It doesn't require brackets, playoffs or lines, ref's or overtime. Well, maybe just a bit of OT.

It keeps me connected, grounded and up-to-date. There are worse things I could be addicted too. Not saying I am, just saying there are worse things. I could be addicted to any one of a number of things that cost money, or waste money as the case may be. At least if I drink and play on FB I'm not a menace to society.

In my defense, I'm not on FB playing Farmville, or any other of the plethora of mind numbing games. I can walk away from it any time I want. Dang, it's hard to type that without laughing..... I could, really I could. But I probably wouldn't be gone long. Maybe it's really a good thing - who doesn't like to be connected to others? Well some people don't. Frankly I wonder about them.

So, if one had to define me they could say I'm a crazy dog lady, a foodie, a bling lover, a gardening fool, and a FB junkie. Sure, they could say it....and they may be right.

Temperament

I have had so many people comment about the temperament of my pointers. I suppose you are wondering if that is a good thing or a bad thing. I wonder what they are really expecting? Aside from our little anal retentive foster, who shall remain nameless, that leaves Mick and Hank. They are fairly bomb proof in public.

I've taken both boys to do pet therapy visits at a local hospital. People are amazed at how laid back, low key, tolerant, and how their tails never stop wagging. I wonder if the fact that I expect nothing less factors in. I like to think their low key, roll with the punches persona, or should I say dogma, reflects my approach to life.

Perhaps it's just their breed. I think temperament wise pointers are very similar to lab's and Golden's. Some are high energy, some are complete goof balls, some are couch potato's, some are hunting machines. All are great family dogs.

I dig the tail wagging part. If I had a tail I'd wag it nonstop too. Well, I do have a tail of sorts and it does wag in it's own way. I think I'll stop with that comment before I dig myself in any deeper.

What I'm trying to say is temperament matters. It is important in pets, and in people. Surround yourself with good ones, and life gets easier. And who wouldn't like life to be a little bit easier.

Cutting The Cord

Last January we picked up Sophie from a shelter in central NE. She was all kinds of timid. Her stance was hunkered down. Her tail tucked clear to her nose. She dodged all petting, ignored treats, hid in the back of her crate. And that was on her good days. It was three days before she would even pee for us. My bladder ached for her.

Over the months she has made so much progress. The thrill, for me, is seeing her act like a normal dog. Training her on the invisible fence has been a giant plus. I finally got brave enough to remove the lead she'd been dragging. At that moment our roles reversed. I was the scared one and she was the brave one. One gets to that point in parenting and fostering. You have to love them enough to keep them safe, and love them enough to let them go.

So, it was time to cut the cord. I got over my fear and got on with it. If you could see her fly though the yard. Tail wagging, ears flopping, tongue hanging, smiling like a poster child for canine Nascar. It more than makes up for every trip out with her on leash over 8 months. For the times in the rain, the snow, the bitter cold. For the times she'd hear a leaf fall and abort the potty mission. Time after time after time.

She runs in circles, she smells the bushes, she rolls in the grass. She's normal!! Who would have ever thought the day would come I would say that about her. Sure makes a foster Mom proud.

Fill In the Blanks, Finish the Sentence

You know how people sometimes fill in the blanks for you, or finish your sentence? I especially love those who read what I mean to say instead of what I type. Try as I might, I often end up with little typo's in my blogs. That is because my brain is so much faster than my fingers. Or, because my brain reads one way and my eyes another. Or, because I'm weary and can't see straight. Or, perhaps a certain dog is nudging me to go outside!

Makes me wonder if dogs ever compensate that way. Other than if you aren't gonna clean your bowl I'll gladly help. Mr. Hanky is a trooper that way. He doesn't just eat, he consumes like a Hoover on steroids.

Basically, the dogs are so accepting they think I specifically put the typo's in there. They think I'm good even when I struggle to be good. They think I'm a goddess when I'm so less than Godly. Add all this to the things I love about dogs.

When you get down to it - life has typo's. Spellcheck is not as intuitive as I'd like. If everything was spelled right where would the fun be? If everything smelled right - what fun would there be in rolling in it?

Fill in those little blanks for me. You know what I mean even when the blonde moments conspire against me. Thanks - I knew you would.

This & Thats

This is the good news, Sophie is almost completely invisible fence trained. She's still dragging a leash, but only because I'm chicken about removing it. She tried to tell me she is ready today by chewing off about 5" inches of it. That will teach me to get sidetracked when I bring her inside.

She did make a mad dash across the yard on the tail of a bunny today. My heart stopped as I thought she was going to bolt clear through the boundary. Not sure how she did it, but in the nick of time she cornered miraculously and averted crossing the boundary. Phfewwww.....

I recently spent 4 1/2 days complete dog free. No, it wasn't easy. But, yes it was worth it. I traveled to WA state to spend time with my Uncle and Aunt. I will 'fess up to the fact he's always been my favorite Uncle. No, he was not my only Uncle. It meant the world to me to spend time with them.

Now I'm back..... I know Sophie is breathing easier now that I'm home. Hank is like Velcro and Mick asked if I'd been gone. I think Reno is glad I'm back too.

It is always a delight to leave home, and a blessing to return. My thanks to my Uncle and Aunt for time in their presence, and for Reno for keeping the home fires burning. And that, is the this and that, of that.