Paper Trail

My blog is a paper trail of my life. It's sometimes a slippery slope, sometimes a walk in the park, sometimes a belly aching laugh, other times a tough row to hoe, always a canine extravaganza.

Trouble is it's not really a "paper" trail, and I've been neglectful at printing it out to make it one. Case in point, I wrote a lot of blogs on another site that has since been dissolved. Hmmmmm, there is no going back. No way to get those blogs, that trail came to an end.

Rather naive of me to just assume I could always get to them. Truth be told I probably never gave it a thought. I'm like that at times. Wrapped up in the day-to-day and not thinking down the road. Rather ironic, most times we live in the future and forget the present.

Not like they are the lost art of van Gogh, or unrecorded music of Michael Jackson. They don't represent a fortune, unless somewhere down the road I hit it big. At present I'm not holding my breath.

But it makes me sad, because I should have and I didn't. And now I can't. Words on paper. My words. my trail thanks to all the experiences of dogs, life, loss, laughter and love. I'll take better care of them. Lesson learned.

Happy Tails

Waggin tails are a barometer of joy around here. Hank and Mickey's tails almost never stop wagging. And while one might think a wag is a wag is a wag, I have to say not so!

Mick's tail is like a metronome. The only place I've seen a metronome is on top of a piano. I've never actually (thank God) seen Mickey on top of a piano, but, I'm sure Mick could give the metronome a run for it's money.

Hank's tail is like a drum stick. His rule of wagging is always, always make sure the tail beats upon some type of surface. The wall, the sofa, the desk, all are good places to wag against. Thumpity, thumpity, thump, thump, thump.

Sophie's tail is an entirely different matter. Sometimes it's still tightly tucked as if she wishes to wrap her back end all the way to her front end. Other times, it's out in earnest when she's pointing at the rabbits. The best, of course, is when she's at play. When she plays, and forgets to be afraid, her tail is a hoot. Her tail proclaims "wild child". Each happy wag of her tail says "whoohoo-whohoo-whohoo"!! Watch out, stay clear, whoohoo wild child at play.

Perhaps we are all like that. Sometimes consistent, sometimes noisy, and hopefully, sometimes like Sophie. We all need those "whoohoo" moments in our life.

Will She or Won't She

Along the way we have debated if we gave Sophie the right name. Chicken Little seemed appropriate, as did MsChief. Of late, Diva, or Miss Contrary seems to fit the bill.

She is a challenge. At first all she did was hunker in her crate. Then she would come out when you weren't looking. But if you looked, she'd run for the crate. If I was in the office, she was into mischief in the front room. For a while if I was upstairs, she was upstairs. If I was downstairs she was downstairs. It took her a while to begin drinking from the community bowl. Then she learned. This week she won't go near it.

Progress with fosters is usually watching them learn house rules and basic manners. It is a series of small steps forward. With Sophie it's been completely different. I can only surmise that unlearning years of fear-based behaviors is not a predictable journey.

Last week she decided she wouldn't willingly go into her crate. This week she's decided eating in her crate is just not gonna happen. Toss in the high value treats, not interested. Last week I'd take the computer down to the front room to keep an eye on her. This week she won't leave the office.

Yup, she's challenging and she's certainly challenging our fostering skills. I have to wonder if one day she'll decide that Scary Man is the God of all that is Good in Life and I'll be Scary Woman. In a way, even that would be progress. It's hard to help her unlearn the scary things and relearn the good things. Even when she rejects the status quo she's making progress. It's just not a predictable progress. It always makes me wonder whats next. It doesn't seem to get easier with her, it just gets different.

At some point she has to find the middle ground. I hope, I hope, I hope.

How Deep Is Your Love....

I've done a lot for my two-legged kids, and my four-legged kids. Usually it involves vet bills, tuition bills, car insurance or food bills. It's what parents do. We may grumble a little, but we do it because we love them. Usually it's small sacrifices, giving up so they can have something. Going without so they can do something, putting their needs before ours. It is done in a hundred different ways on a hundred different days.

As I ponder this generosity of sacrificial love, I am thinking of a young lady I work with. Leah is a young woman challenged by Down Syndrome. Her parents love for her brings a smile to my heart. They are packing up house and home to move to San Antonio so that Leah can be closer to her beloved boy friend. For them it's a gift of love, not a sacrifice. That's not to say it's an easy choice for them. But, they have placed her joy in the forefront. In return, her happiness gives them happiness.

Many of us give wholeheartedly. Most people never know how much we give up for those we love. For us, and people like Leah's parents, its a small price to pay for a happy heart.

New Directions

Every so often we switch directions. Sometimes by choice, sometimes by chance, sometimes because we just have too. Many times we drag our heels, or put it off as long as we have too. Often when we unclench our teeth and release our death grip great things happen.

Rescue is like that. We get a dog in, we fall in love, we find them a home, and we let them go. We learn with them, we laugh with them, we cry when they go. They move on, and we never forget them.

Adopting Mickey got me started with Pointer Rescue Organization. He was nine months old and now he's going on 8 yrs old (I think - math is not my strong point). Time flies when you are raising kids and helping dogs. Pointers have opened more doors for me than I could ever count, if I could count that is.

Now we are going another new direction. On the journey we will embrace another whole pointer family. New licensing requirements by the state of NE for rescues are causing Pointer Rescue to suspend fostering activities here. Great Plains Pointer Rescue, a licenced state run rescue organization, is taking Sophie and I under their wing. As they say "bird-dogs of a feather must stick together". GPPR specializes in German Shorthair Pointers & Their Cousins. I sure hope we can be a favorite cousin. I will foster Sophie for GPPR and Sophie gets her profile on their website, and as a referral on Pointer Rescue's website. Double the exposure for her - that's a win-win situation.

I will still assist Pointer Rescue as I am able by being a blogging pointer advocate, as the Incoming Dog Coordinator for IA, WY & UT, with fund raising and poking pointer fun every chance I get. I figure I'll have twice the doggy family to bless my doggy-dog world.

New directions expand our world. Hello pointer world....we're ready if you are.

Things - people, dog and otherwise

Sometimes we forget some important things. Like that we are vibrant, strong, confident women. It still stresses me to go to family events where my exes family will all be there. Individually, they all hug me and we are delighted to catch up with one another. En mass, I get the willies and have to psyche myself up for those events. Silly, yes. Unnecessary, totally. Fact of life, uh huh. Even though I detest the phrase "it is what it is", that sums up this situation. So I take some extra time with my make up,hair, accessories, clothes, and then remind myself, I am good enough just the way I am. I am, I am, I am!

A bit about the dogs. Does anyone have dogs who graze in their patio pots? I learned long ago never to put lantana in my low pots. It only goes in the hanging baskets. Mr. Mick seems to have a taste for that, occasionally some zinnia's and now I've discovered he likes salvia. Hellooooo, get thee nose out of my patio pots you little bugger.

I've also noticed that when Mr. Hanky snuggles up next to me he purrs. Rather an odd thing for a dog to do, but completely endearing. He does it very softly, because I'm sure if the other dogs heard him he'd be teased insufferably. Bliss does have distinct sounds and Hank's purring is one of them.

It was brought to my attention that if we were naming Sophie right now, the name MissChief would be a good one for her. Truthfully, she's finding her way, building her confidence and testing us in the process. She reminds me of Sidney. It was always a challenge to get him crated. She has decided to crate up when she wants to, not on command. So it's a physical task to crate her. It's much like stuffing sausages. You have to line her up just so, move her gently yet firmly into her crate. Which reminds me to try sausage as a treat for her. We have yet to find any treat she is just gaga over. As someone very treat motivated myself I find this hard to fathom.

So there you have it. It's all a matter of confidence, faith, trust, treats and some flowers to make pretty the way. That is if Mick doesn't eat them all first. And, bliss, they say to find your bliss. I say listen for it too, it's a sweet purring sound that sometimes comes from unexpected places.

Peace in the Garden

Every year I have the opportunity to plant patio pots for a friend of mine. Truthfully it's a bit like landscaping in the Garden of Eden. It feels like Eden. With the patio surrounded by dwarf lilacs in bloom, it smelled like it. There is a water feature, so I worked to the sound of water trickling. I should almost pay her to let me do the work for her.

And, yes, there are dogs. It was a hard winter for them too, with the loss of their English Springer Spaniel. Planting was just not the same without Toby constantly dropping a tennis ball into the pot I am planting. I don't mind interruptions like that. We should all be open to playing at the drop of a hat (or ball) just that easily.

Thinking of her pots reminds me of Pete. I was finishing up that planting project several years ago when his new owners flew out to meet him. Some people measure time by years, I do by dogs.

One really can't ask for better working conditions. Flowers, dogs, quiet, the music of water falling, fragrance. Ah, the process of planting. All manner of growth can come from that. And it does......

Female Fosters, Undies and Life

Since Sophie is our first female foster it only stands to reason. So you, at this point are thinking, what stands to reason??? Well, the whole foster and lingerie situation. The male fosters had a thing for my undies, and Ms. Sophie seems to like those belonging to the Scary Man. Which is very ironic because she is afraid of the Scary Man. I can only pray acquainting herself with his socks and boxers will help her come to love him.

And may I just say, fosters are like children. No two are ever the same, even if you can prove they had the same parents! Each one challenges you to grow right along with them. To try new things, just when you thought you had all the smarts you needed from the previous experiences.

Life is like that too. Just when you think you have it figured out, you get an new challenge. This week I'm laughing at myself, I always swear I'll never have another puppy. Egad they are so much work. Well, Ms. Sophie is like a puppy these days. I've caught her on the coffee table, chewing on coasters and reconfiguring a remote control. Puppies, fosters, kids, jobs, relationships all require a certain diligence. Not to mention enormous amounts of flexibility.

Thanks to Sophie I'm way more diligent. Hopefully I'm smarter too, time will tell.

Middle Names

Everywhere I have worked, or volunteered, and in my family there have always been more than one Nancy. So I am quite used to being Nancy Jean, Nancy B, little Nancy, or big Nancy. That is so I'm not confused with Nancy Marie, Nancy M., old Nancy or young Nancy, my Nancy or your Nancy. If I were to hyphenate my name when I remarry I could be called Nancy B-S. I'm thinking I'll pass on this one. I've never been just Nancy - I always come with a qualifier.

Now, if Sophie had a middle name it would no doubt be "trouble". Lately whenever I call her name it's followed by Sophie "what are you up to now", or Sophie "leave it". I don't even have to know what she's doing, chances are it's a "leave it" situation. She is a mischievous little bugger of a girl. If she was a toddler, she would be one who doesn't hesitate to climb to the top of the refrigerator. Sophie's not shy about using furniture as a means to get to something.

I've begun to taking my laptop to where ever she is. If I'm in the office, that gives her a free pass to cruise things in the living room. Even if I'm in the kitchen she sometimes pushes the envelope. Getting lots of opportunities to correct behavior that's for certain. Of course, the flip side of this is that she has come so far!! I can't complain, really, well, maybe just a little.

She's gone from being afraid of everything, to testing everything. Amazing what 3+ months in foster care will do. Today, as she tried to rip the skirting from the bottom of the sofa (can you say bad girl Sophie!!) I took off my shoe and tossed it at her. No, I didn't throw to hurt, for the most part I can't even hit what I throw at. But I throw to interrupt the behavior by the surprise of it landing close by. Face it shoes raining from the sky are startling! So I got a good correction in!

So while I'm Nancy B. She's Sophie B. As in Sophie Behave. I'm Nancy Jean. She's Sophie Trouble. So "B" it. So Sophie, so much fun.

Momming

Mom, Mommy, Momma, dog Mom, Momism's, Mother (said in a teenager's voice smacked with attitude). Naturally today I'm pondering motherhood. If someone asked what it feels like to be a Mom, I'd have to say exhausting. Oh, wait, maybe I'm just exhausted and I'm transferring that feeling over to everything else.

These days I focus my "mothering" skills on the dogs. Although Reno would probably call them "s-mothering" skills and say I practice on him too. What can I say, once a Mother, always a Mother. He might also say my Mothering resembles nagging, and come to think of it my kids might agree.

When my kids were little I'd always call them (drag them) out to the garden to see my perennial hibiscus in bloom. The large saucer-like blossoms always fascinated me. Hence, it should fascinate them. It must have. It tickles me to know that each place they live they plant a hibiscus. Proof that the seeds we plant do take root.

Isn't that what we want as Mother's? To see those we love planted, grow and blossom. Whether they are two legged, or four legged, it matters not. And yes, that gift gives way more than one could ever dream of.

Time Flies

I'm certain I've written a blog with this same title before. No doubt I'll write one again. Basically, it's my blog and I can title them any way I want. The boss says it's okay - oh ya, I am the boss. Gosh, I love my boss!! Thanks Boss!

I've been mulling over how times flies. For example, Sophie joined our family the end of January. Doesn't January seem like a long time ago? For heaven's sakes it was months ago! Sometimes the days drag, but the time flies. And, here we are.

Sophie's still here, it's almost Mother's Day, I still feel like I'll never catch up. Yep, time flies. Hank going strong, my kids are healthy, Reno is wonderful. Yep, time flies.

I admit to being envious of people with new babies, and of people who's fosters get adopted. No, I don't want a new baby. Perhaps we just envy the excitement of what every one else has. Perhaps other peoples successes seem so much more evident than our own.

For month's now we've been working to empty my Mother's house, it's a slow process. This weekend we will succeed in having it almost completely empty. It's an empty feeling, not a feeling of satisfaction. It's one of those "won't it be great moments" that really doesn't feel all that great.

That's where I am. Loving my life. But also looking forward, looking back, looking at how time flies.

I'll Hold Your Pain

Mr. Mickey is my pet therapy dog. We try, every Tuesday, to visit patients doing rehab work at a local hospital. He is completely another dog up there than he is here at home. People don't believe what a dufus he is in "real" life. But they see what a trooper he is at the hospital.

We have seen a certain patient three weeks in a row now. She is recovering from surgery and is a complete dog lover. My kind of people. Each time we have seen her she has been reduced to tears. Not just misty eyed, like I get when watching a movie, but a bawling, sobbing sort of release. Face it, we need moments of release. Too often we don't allow ourselves that. So I admire her for her ability, and I am amazed at Mick's presence to her.

He was a sponge for her pain, a valve for her stress, a salve for her heart. Is that not the ultimate gift? Today he sat next to her. She put her arms around his neck and bawled on his shoulder. I cannot fathom the energy that passed between them. But I was awed by his ability to hold her pain and offer her comfort in return.

What he did was priceless. No amount of treats can repay his gift her. None is needed. The big guy upstairs is proud, of that I have no doubt.

Hogs

I forget sometimes that not all people share the sofa with dogs. So I'd like to make a blanket apology to past guests in our house, or any future guests who may visit and find themselves in contention for using space the dogs think is their own. A direct apology to Jo who experienced this last night. Some people have pillows to lean up against, we have Mr. Hanky.

In Hank's defense, he was on the sofa first, and Jo sat down in front of him so she could have a little meet and greet with Sophie. In Jo's defense, she had no idea what a sofa hog and attention ho Mr. Hanky can be. And in my defense? Wow, how rude of me to not make Hank move so my guest could be more comfortable. Boy howdy, I missed that one. I do apologize.

It got me thinking how we compensate for people and pets sometimes. I tolerate more of Hank's attention seeking behavior because I know he probably won't have a long life span to soak up all that good loving. That's all good and fine for me, but perhaps not the most guest friendly behavior. I tolerate a little more of Sophie's rowdy moments because they are such an improvement from time's she'd barely move out of fear. Sometimes you have to go from one extreme to the other and then settle in middle ground.

For Hank the middle ground is the better part of the sofa and the lap of anyone on it. I love that. But, I'll be more aware that not everyone does. Hank sometimes tries to get so close you'd swear he wants inside your skin. Sometimes he almost gets there. Thank goodness my friend likes dogs, even ones who are sofa hogs.