Lightly

"She wore her last week of life lightly."

Dang, I wish I had written that. How profound, how wonderful, how awesome to live like that.

Truth be told I found that line in middle of an obituary. In the newspaper, I read three sections consistently, the comics, the obit's and the celebration announcements. Funny how all three of those sections are generally written with brevity. Except for the comics, they are written in all seriousness, with little personal detail. The facts, just the fact, Ma'am. I'm thinking that dogs live lightly. But I have to wonder if you and I do. Perhaps this is our challenge.

What if birth announcements, wedding announcements and obits were all written lightly. Allowing plenty of room for light thoughts and comments. I love seeing wedding announcements that go beyond the list of players and date of the event. I like reading how they met and how he proposed. I dig tidbits of real life in 75th birthday announcements. And I love learning something about the real-ness of the person who passed on.

I never met the person who wore her last week of life lightly. But I want to be just like her. I just bet she had dogs. If nothing else pets help us live lightly.

Thanks to an friend I never met, I plan to wear lightly each and every day of my life....I hope you will to.

The Perfect Home

As foster homes, we all imagine what the perfect home would be like for our fosters. Heck, as home owners we do the same thing. We have starter homes, which is like the canine equivalent of a foster home. It a good place to learn what home life is all about. We have secondary houses, better than the starter, but not quite a mansion. Some have mansions, others have retirement homes, lake homes, mountain homes.

Sophie has had several people consider adding her to their home. The first one sounded perfect, but sometimes potential adopters just fade into the woodwork never to be heard from again. Then she had a lovely couple interested in her, but their dogs never get to come inside. Hello! Sophie needs sofa privileges!!! She is not a diva dog yet, but there is great potential there. Another family was interested, but she doesn't have the confidence for a busy family with young kids. They needed, and adopted another pointer. Sophie gave her stamp of approval.

Hank needed a foster home and a forever home - turns out both have the same address. There is probably still an idiot out there who dumped him because of his cancer. Frankly we'd like to take a collective dump on him. Anyone care to join in? But after that I'd have to tell him what he's been missing out on. His loss, definitely our gain.

There is a pointer in a foster home in Indiana I'd love to adopt. Colonel needs a terrific forever home. I tried to bring him here for fostering, but the distance was too far. Thankfully he lucked out and found a wonderful rescue group and foster home. He may find that forever home before I have a place for him on our sofa. If that happens, so be it.

Home is so many things to so many people. For me, home means dog fur and canine antics. It means laughter and gardening, flowers and friends. The perfect home is not necessarily perfect in structure or appointments. It is perfect in holding close those that we cherish. It provides shelter, safety, humor and yes, it definitely holds dogs. Even ones that just stay in our house for a while, but in our hearts forever.

Driving Ms. Sophie

We took Sophie to an adoption event today with the gang from Great Plains Pointer Rescue. If someone had told Sophie what was in store for her she would have hidden under the sofa with a taser.

Luckily, she did not know! First was the dreaded car ride. That is when the panting begins and the dripping on whatever is near by. In this instance it would be me. It was a multi-napkin ride. When the car is moving she will lay down and put her head under the seat. When the car stops she's up and panting. Another napkin please.

Arriving at 3 Dogs Bakery required a "walk" from the car. Having travelled with her before I was prepared. She took a poo the size of a hippo in the parking lot. She is improving - last time she did that inside Pet Co. I had a bag, I should have brought a shovel. I'm learning though....

The event offered the experience of wearing one of those nifty "Adopt Me" vests. Another fashion first for Sophie. It took a while before she realized it is possible to walk with it on. Much like me when I don high heels.

The panting and drooling continued, accompanied by some trembling. Obviously a nervous Nellie, but only good things happened to her. She got lots of pats and gentle loves. Hopefully those registered in her brain and will be absorbed later. She met Casino, Lucky, and Deacon. She sniffed and got sniffed and took it all in stride. Well, in a trembling, panting, drooling stride.

By the end of the 2+ hours she did lay down and rest. I'm taking that as a good sign. Being social is exhausting. Being handled, touched and wearing a vest is mind numbing. Taking a dump that large must at least lighten your step.

She may not know it, but she did good. Next time will be easier. And there will be a next time.

Scattered

(intro....music worthy of a soap opera....) As the trees scatter their seeds, so goes the path of my brain.

It was a typical gardening experience. Except it's been so hot there has been little gardening. But it's cool, comparatively speaking, and the yard at least needed poop scooping. I gathered up my trust poop producers and my pooper scooper and off I went.

Task one, easy for my brain to follow. Scoop poop. Highly successful endeavor. But, ohhhhh, just as I finished the last pile, the brain says hey, stop and pull those weeds. Followed by stop and move those branches that came down with the last big wind. Next an insipid little voice said look at those grasses in the garden bed going to seed. Pull them!! Pull them!! Pull them!

Soon I had a pile of offenders needing the trash can marked yard waste. So, I went in the back door because I needed coffee to sustain this project. Out the front door, coffee in hand to get the can. But, wait!! More nasty weeds in the front garden and a nifty place to set the coffee cup. Some call it a SUV, I call it a cup holder. Pull some weeds there and try to redirect to the other project started. Off to the back yard with coffee in hand. Fill the trash can, praise Lord, another task seen to completion. Stop for just a few more weeds (I should have known better)and accidentally fling dirt into my coffee cup.

A ruined cup of coffee is a sign to cease and desist if you ask me. I look around, find the poop scooper, dispose of the waste, gather up my muddy cup and faithful pups and head in for more java. My movements were as scattered and random as the flight of a butterfly. Moral of the story (as the soap opera music swells)....progress is not always a straight path...and can be measured by the piles of weeds and poop you gather and dispose of. Mission accomplished.

Home - A Different Sort of Journey

Most of the time our goal is to find great homes for our foster dogs. They are out there, and wonderful homes they are. Often I wish I could be adopted with the foster dog. Thus far, that hasn't happened, but it still could you never know.

For the last year I've been working on a different type of journey home, or home journey, if you will. I've been working on getting my Mom's house ready to sell. It's been a long process, but then with no specific deadline, and a busy life it can take a while. I have had help, from the Big Guy upstairs, from Reno, from my siblings, from those who support me in every way shape and form.

Yes, I've grumbled about the process over the months. There has been a less than equal division of labor, but that was evident even before Mom's passing. So you do what you have to do. I still have the tendency to want to bring everything home, even when I knew I would never use it. I found a way around that, I'd bring it home, and once it was here I found myself more able to part with it.

Some things went to the heirs, some went to an estate sale, some went to the Good Will, some went to the "land of no return" aka the dumpster. A few items, this week, in a last ditch effort (ditch being the operative word)were simply free-cycled. We took the redneck approach, hauled select items to the curb, taped some note paper together and wrote FREE on it. Of course, at the time no marker was to be found. Yes, I'll own it. I wrote the FREE sign in lipstick. Laugh if you will, most women don't carry magic markers in their purses - but lipstick, that's a whole other story. In case you are wondering - all those items were hauled away lickity split.

So today found two of us getting the last few items out of the garage. Sweeping the dirt from the floor and treating the weeds growing in the cracks with weed killer. It seems a good metaphor. Sweep away the dirt, kill the weeds of life that may cloud the memories. Dump the baggage from that past, share some of the usable items...and go forward.

The house is neat, tidy, and waiting for new occupants. It is good to let it go, taking what has value, leaving what holds us back. Dusted off, cleaned up, ready to go.

Old Leashes

We got our first dog in 1998, and little yellow lab puppy we named Abigail Adams IX. We accumulated the standard supplies kongs, bones, crate, crate pad (aka a giant chewing toy), collar, 6' leash and a flexi-lead.

Dogs have come and gone, the box of collars and leashes has grown, but still we're using the flexi-lead. It's been gnawed on some. But it's like a Timex watch, it takes a lickin but keeps on tickin.

It still extends smoothly. It is the retraction that isn't working so well. Old age is like that too I'm finding. Now with the leash you need to hit it on your palm or against your side for the rewind function to work. I imagine, as I walk the yard with Sophie, I look like someone playing a tambourine. Hit against the palm, or hit against the hip. Shake it baby, shake it. Frankly, I've always wanted to play in a band, or be a back up dancer. Tambourine would be right up my alley. So I think about that as I'm walking Ms. Sophie. Sure, I could get a new flexi-lead. But how much fun would that be?

Besides I walk all the dogs from my past and present when I use that leash. I spend time with Abby, Fancy, Kobe, Pete, Sidney, Bo, Jackson, Mickey, Sidney, Maddie, Hank and Sophie.

That leash holds some very special memories. And, a little hit on the palm or hip, is no big deal. If I look like I'm playing percussion with a dog, so be it. They are music to my heart.

Famous Last Words - It's As Simple As That

Just when you say - It's as simple as that - it's not as simple as that. One should never start a sentence with "it's as simple as.....or my dog never.....my child wouldn't.....or I've never had that happen...." It's like jinxing the God's of irony. Or, tempting the laws of possibility. As soon as you say it all the planets align for incredible things to happen. Leaving you, with egg on your face, not to mention a complete look of bafflement.

Such is the case of the blog situation. I implied it was a simple thing to just click "follow" and presto chango you could follow me. Plus, by following me (psst, I'm over here) you would get to see some photo's I post as well. Come to find out if you have a G-mail, AOL or Yahoo account it's just that simple. For the rest of you, it must not be that simple, but I still want you to feel the love.

If you have problems (with following the blogs, that is) let me know. I can send the blogs direct to up to 10 addresses. So the good news is spaces are still available. Maybe I should raffle them off to the highest bidder. Okay, maybe not.

I won't leave you in the dark, or out in the cold, or having blog withdrawls. Stick with me, one way or another, the best is yet to come.

Enabling & Enabling

Owning it is the first step. I am an enabler. In fact I have enabled you. I've spoiled you, or maybe I've forced some of you, to read my blogs by virtue of taking time to send them directly to your mail box. Perhaps you have been a captive audience, or a lazy audience, maybe you have been reluctant, I hope you've chuckled a time or two. Well, I have good news and I have bad news. Which is which is up to you. The good or the bad (your choice) is that I won't enable you any more. The good or the bad (again your choice) is you can still get them in your mailbox. That requires one brief moment of participation on your part. If you want to follow the escapades of my Doggy Dog World go to http://doggydogblog.blogspot.com and register to follow my blog. As Reno says sometimes, "it's as simple as that". And, you can still leave feedback, if you so choose. In a moment of pure indulgence, I will say I do love feedback and comments!! I like to know others can relate to the stories I share.

Speaking of enabling. I/we are trying to enhance Sophie's social skills. Let me just say this, she has very few so she can only improve! Last night I took her for a "walk" to enable her confidence to grow. Of course walking wasn't so much what we did. It was more of a begging forward event, a pleading process, a marathon of encouragement, a test of patience exercise. There really wasn't exercise involved. But we did get two doors down to visit a neighbor. I was happy to get that far and Sophie was happy to drag me home.

So there you have it. The enabler is me feels bad I'm changing how I'm doing things. But, the enabler also feels good. Life is like that a mix of guilt and satisfaction, often at the same time. Kind of like Sophie, one step forward, two steps back - it still counts as progress.

Happy Anticipation

Every time we feed Mr. Hanky it is like his first meal after a years of starvation. If only mankind had his enthusiasm and gratitude the world would be a better place.

He waits at your feet as you scoop the food into the bowls. He watches with anticipation, he watches with faith. Pavlov would be so proud of him. I could be dishing up fillet Mignon or paper mache. He is in the "oh boy, oh boy, oh boy its kibble time" zone.

So what can we learn from Mr. Hanky? Anticipation rocks. Happy is a choice. Good things come to those who wait. Regular meals are da bomb. Enthusiasm is positive energy squared.

And, of course, he eats with gusto. Most days I'm surprised the bowl doesn't get consumed too. He is not like Mick who some days picks at his food, or like Sophie who eats depending on who's in the room. Hank eats like there is no tomorrow.

We should all embrace life like that.

Keeping The Faith

I am, by nature, optimistic. I believe in people and that good things are just around the corner. Reno is more of a pessimist so we balance each other out.

There are times when even I wonder what makes people so vile and reprehensible. This is one of those days. Today one of the dogs in our rescue program was deliberately run down and killed. This happened because the man was angry the dog may have been on his property. I cannot fathom the anger in this man's heart. How do you purposely inflict such pain on an animal, and on the foster Mom who witnessed it. We see dogs all the time who have suffered at the hands of heartless people. We work tirelessly to save just one more. We take in sick dogs, abused dogs, pregnant dogs, frightened and abandoned dogs. We look at those dogs and see a life full of value and worth a second chance.

Those of us who foster long enough eventually lose one in our care and it is devastating. It happens because we simply are not part of the bigger plan, even though we do the best we can. So we grieve for those who cross the bridge while under our roof wishing we could have done more. We know, they were loved.....they were cherished......and they had value.

And we know we will not let the savage souls of the world take our hope away. Because our love for animals is, and always will be, more powerful than their anger.

RIP Tia - you were loved.

Confirmation

Sometimes we just need confirmation. Sometimes it's called feedback. Other times it is affirmation. We all long for it, need it to thrive, give it out, and on the good days get it back.

I'd like to confirm at Sophie is learning that the Scary Man is not totally Scary. He is getting positive feedback from her. Of course it's taken a million treats to affirm this. But, some people take baby steps, we give out baby treats.

Hank of course affirms my every move. I was in the bathroom today, with him sitting beside me. He was looking at me with such adoration. I am his bliss. He would have gotten the toilet paper for me, spun it in gold and offered it on a silver platter if he could have. That's what his eyes told me. Instead he was content just to be with me.

Mickey is more independent. Of course that depends on what's going on. Today he brought me the remains of a large piece of fireworks. He was delighted to have it, pranced in the house with it and was just as thrilled to drop it on command. It's all good in Mick's world.

I'm wondering if dogs just don't second guess themselves like people do. Well, except for Sophie, she second guesses everything. How sad that she does, and how wonderful she's learning it doesn't have to be this way. Would that we could all learn this lesson.

July?? Where Did June Go?

Growing up, the 4th of July was the middle of the summer. Now I think we go right from Memorial Day to July 4th without pausing for a breath. Once the 4th is over the summer is gone. Okay - so a slight exaggeration. But some truth just the same.

Kind of like just yesterday my kids were babies. Or just last week Hank came into our lives, or last month Sophie became our foster. Not to long ago Mick was just 9 months old. You get my drift. Truth is Hank has been with us for 14 months, Sophie for 6 months, and I don't want to count how old Mickey is getting to be.

Sophie is making progress although it's certainly more of a marathon than a sprint. And, I must confess we've been lax in getting her fence trained. This weekend, I tell you, this weekend I'm getting the flags out. Feel free to nag me on this. She has to be tired of going out on leash, and I know we are probably tired of taking her. It's just such a habit that one doesn't realize the effort involved. Labors of love are like that.

After the noise of the July 4th weekend it's fence training time. Guess you could say I'm drawing a line in the sand on that. Except that we don't have sand, and despite 9 inches of rain last month it so dry you have to water again. But I digress....someone please hold me accountable.

We get so caught up in the day-to-day, we miss seeing the pages fly on the calendar. Before you know it it's July - and it's time Sophie learns a little about independence.....