The Word Of the Week is.....

Leave it. Leave it, leave it, leave it. Followed by No, and Nooooooo. Ahhh, there is nothing like life with a puppy. Someone pass the squirt bottle please, or better yet the super soaker.

Did you know many things are edible to a puppy? The newspaper is amazing. Sticks, out of this world. Buttons, bracelets, bathrobes, boxers - oh yes, very edible. And, if Snowflake, aka Sierra had an Indian name it would be Thundering Paws. Or, Boxing Dog. So many possibilities.

Right now she is asleep in the recliner with Reno, who is also sleeping. Puppies at rest are especially appealing. She does prefer cuddling while sleeping. Today she layed her head to rest on Hank's butt. He wasn't thrilled, but she got away with it. But, frankly, everyone needs a soft spot to lay their head.

Oh yes, and did I mention dingleberries??? Sierra had one today, and was quite distressed by it. I'm sure she was thinking OMG what is this shit? I was thinking the exact same thing. Situation resolved without me having to get involved. Phfewww, that was a close one.

We also tried going for a walk today. Well, we walked. She lunged. And lunged, and lunged. Made Hank, who usually surges ahead on walks, look quite docile. Mick gave us the sad eyed look because he is having arthritis issues and is on restricted activity. No walks for Mick for two weeks. If only he understood that.

But good news! Kenneling is not a full contact sport anymore. She gets it, she really gets it! Whohoo!

So I leave you with this question - what is the word of the week at your place? Do tell.

Settling In

Snowflake flew across several states to NE, leaving behind the only home she's ever known. You'll be happy to know she's settling in just fine. I moved two hours from the only home I'd ever known and I didn't settle in as easily as she did. They are so much better at embracing change than we are.

She is learning quickly - what to do, what not to do. Mostly what not to do. Case in point. Counters, are a no-no. Books are a no-no. The kitchen table - also a big no-no. She also found the soft spots to lay on. In fact, she was born to sleep on a leather sofa. Born, I tell you.

Funny how dogs, and people tend to sit in the same place on a regular basis. Almost like "assigned" seating at the table. I sit here, you sit there. Repeat day in and day out. She has staked her place at the left end of the couch. No matter that Hank owns that piece of real estate. Coming through, make way. Don't mind me, I'll just squeeze in here. You won't even notice me.

Hank to his credit bears that graciously. Okay, sometimes with a grumble or two, but then he concedes to the little lady. Come to think of it, I often grumble before I concede. Hopefully I am as gracious as Hank.

It's all about embracing life and snuggling in. I need to do a little bit more of that myself.

Whirling Dervish

For two days, Snowflake, aka Sierra, has been bouncing off the walls. She is a regular whirling dervish and a silly one at that. I don't know if she's run out of steam, or just decided to bring it down a notch.

Could be jet lag caught up with her. Even puppies rest eventually. I love that side of puppies. Face it she was vetted and pulled from the shelter, flew with three different pilots for Pilots N Paws, overnighted in one household, and them came to ours. Then moved from our "summer" home to our Grand Island home. No wonder she's exhausted.

She's learning to go into the kennel. At first it was like wrestling a marlin. But, thanks to Bacon Strips its getting easier. Right now she's sleeping on the love seat, covered up with a blanket. Tell me she isn't well loved.

For those who wonder, she was a breeder surrender. Pups that don't get sold in a timely fashion end up dumped in the country or in shelters. We think she ended up there because of the markings on her face. One eye is ringed in brown fur. The other is not. That creates the illusion that one eye is larger than the other. It's taught me to make sure I put eye liner on both eyes so I don't look unbalanced. It seems rather fitting for us, as a number of our fosters have been slightly imperfect in terms of appearance. In reality she is entirely perfect just the way she is. Or maybe we see the world, and our fosters, in love colored glasses.

Either way, as the dust of this dervish' arrival settles, we find joy. And humor, and training challenges, and pleasure. It never ceases to amaze me how much love helps them blossom.

Long Journey's

Journeys often begin with a plan and a destination, this one also included a wing and a prayer. Well, several wings, many prayers and lots of hope. It involves a small English Pointer puppy who needed a chance to find a forever home. Dogs in shelters everywhere need that chance. Puppies often have a better chance just because of their cuteness factor (CF). I'm all for the CF, play that card whenever you can in life.

This pup hitched a ride, with 3 different volunteer pilots, on December 23 to fly from euthanization in a rural shelter in Tennessee to Great Plains Pointer Rescue in Nebraska. She was met with open arms and a news crew from a local TV station. Not a bad start.

Her transport name is SnowFlake. But maybe we should name her Puparazzi. Of course, Taz, Spaz and Flake come to mind also. She is a bit of a wild thing. In a -oh what is that, can I see that, look at me go, watch me run kind of way. Her reflection in the window is cause for barking. The glass in the front door was a complete revelation to her. She thinks twice about running into the door now.

Now doubt she has a zillion questions. What is a plane, what is a leash, where do I pee, why did I bounce off the front door, what is toy, where do I sleep, why does Hank growl at me? What can I chew on, why do I have the attention span of gnat, what is a crate, are tv remotes edible, how fast can I run up the stairs....you get my drift.

So many questions from a little pup on a journey. So many second chances, so many people willing to help. And the saga continues. Santa may bring gifts in his sleigh, but God delivers gifts via volunteer pilots.

Merry Christmas little Snowflake, let the fun begin.

Guess What Santa is Bringing??

Dear Mick and Mr. Hanky - guess what Santa is bringing for us for Christmas???

Is it a bird - no. Is it a plane - no. Is it a new foster dog - YES!

It's time to bring another one into the fold. At least temporarily. C'mon, it's what we do. Or, it's what I do and Reno indulges me.

This time it's a puppy. Yes, it will come with it's own special madness and serendipity. Yes, Hank, she may try to bite your butt. Yes, Mick, the peace and quiet as you know it will come to a screeching halt. But hey, you too were puppies once.

Foster #11 for us, is yet un-named. She is approx 5 months old, and being pulled from a shelter in Tennessee by the good folks at Great Plains Pointer Rescue. We're delighted, excited and up for the challenge.

Yes, boyz, I still love you, will always love you. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to help this little one integrate into the household. To learn what love is, what 'no' is, what "ah-ah" means. She'll learn as much from you guys as from me. So she's a lucky dog. She'll learn from the best.

I'm going to say Thanks Santa....da boyz are saying oh crap, here we go again. Either way, let the fun begin.

Now or Later

I wish I could teach the dogs two concepts. The first would be the concept of days off and weekends. Hellooooo.....On the seventh day God rested, I'd like to as well. Is an extra hour too much to ask for. Granted, I haven't created the universe or anything grand like that, but still...

The other concept I'd like to teach is that of "later". We will go for a walk "later". Not now, not at 6am, because this is the weekend, but later. I promise. Later when it's light out, when it's warmer, when the bed is not calling my name. Later will be a longer walk and I'll enjoy it more because I'll be, well, conscious.

Sometimes I'm not sure who trains who. We started the am/pm walk ritual when we downsized to a postage stamp sized yard. It's good for them, and it's good for us. I would just dig a little flexibility on the time table. They say now, I say later. Except they say now with pleading brown eyes. Okay, and I later in what comes off as a bit of a whine.

It goes something like this. Let's walk Now? Now? NOW? blink, blink, wag, wag, wag, happy dance wag. Later, please, later, can we later...oh please, please, please l-a-t-e-r.

It's not a pretty negotiation. But you can guess the end result.

Double Trouble

Rescues work on a shoe string budget, with a staff of volunteers who's hearts are always larger than their pocket books.

Pointer Rescue Organization has two injured foster dogs right now. Joy, who was hit by a truck recently, and Buck who appears to have injured his ACL while playing. Now, they may be foster dogs in name, but they are our babies at heart. We hate to see them hurting, we long to patch them up and see them heal. We stress over funding for medical issues such as these.

If I had a fairy Godmother I'd ask her to sprinkle some money dust over the rescue to help with vet bills. I'd ask for someone in the family to marry a vet who does pro bono work. I'd pray for a winning lottery ticket. I'd say, hey, would you be willing to forgo that grande double skinny caramel macchiato with extra whip to help a four footed friend down on their luck? Could you have a bake sale fund raiser? Could you chip in the money you find in the clothes dryer? Could you make a donation in honor of your favorite four footed friend to help another four footed friend?

If you could, hearts will be warm and tails will wag in thanks.

Dogs In Need

In rescue, there are always "Dogs In Need". They need someone to stand up for them, to advocate for them, foster them, adopt them, vet them, train them, and above all, love them

Sometimes, they also need a miracle. Joy, is one of those dogs. She is an English Pointer being fostered by a Pointer Rescue Organization volunteer. She was hit by a car this week. Hence, the need for a miracle. That is where you come in. What's that you say? I don't have my miracle worker hat on.

Ahh, but you do. Joy needs major vet care to help heal from her injuries. Pointer Rescue (www.pointerrescue.org) needs some major assistance to pay for those bills. Happy, Happy Joy, Joy - as her foster Mom calls her, needs all the help we can give her. She needs our prayers, and all the good karma we can align for her.

I also know this is holiday time. We are pressed for time, busy with family, and tapped out in the budget department. So I ask you to just ponder the dogs in need around the world, and specifically Joy. Ponder, what you can do to help. Know that we can and do make a difference.

Fruits and Veggies

I learn a lot from the dogs. In fact, they are my best role models. Kindness, you bet. Humor? They make me laugh every day. Forgiveness....I can only hope to forgive and forget as easily as they do.

They have been known to be food opportunists. Not that I'm complaining. We have been lucky with that over the years. A few cases of counter surfing, one money hungry Labrador, a little springer who snatched a sandwich off my plate while I answered the door (little minx)! A pointer who helped himself to the fruitcake while Reno and I were gazing at the fireplace.

Yesterday was the case of the missing Kiwi fruit. While cooking dinner I heard Mr. Hanky snarfing something down. He was quite intent in his consumption. I was amazed he found something edible. When I got him to give it to me he had 1/2 of a kiwi fruit in his mouth. Huh?? Where did you get this?? He pleaded the fifth. How can this be? Well, it was there...I ate it. It was yummy. Can I have the other half back?

Now I honestly don't know where he got it from. I remember buying one, in an attempt to eat more fruits and veggies. But I don't remember it in the fridge, or on the counter. I certainly don't remember knocking it off the counter and onto the floor. Either way Hank seized the Kiwi. And he liked it skin and all.

Perhaps, next trip to the store I'll buy two. One for each of us.

Places In Life

We all come from different places in life. Heck, I find myself living in one. When I started blogging, many years ago, it was because I figured I might be experiencing something similar to others and that by voicing my thoughts someone else might benefit. Or at least laugh, or on a good day find some wisdom, healing or hope.

Usually the dogs are my conduit. Without them I would not be me. Dog-wise, things are very calm in my life. We are not fostering, although I'm beginning to plant the seeds that it is time again. Since our move, I haven't done any pet therapy visits. Although I'm hoping to get going with that again soon. Hank and Mick are good, healthy, happy. All good things.

I need to own how difficult it is for me to live in a new place. How isolated it has felt, and yet, how right it is to share daily life with Reno. It is a mixed blessing. We have jobs - amen. We have a roof over our head - amen. We have time with each other - amen, amen, amen.

And, sometimes, we have me in tears. I believe it's normal. Although having never done this before I couldn't say for sure. Of course, being a weepy person by nature, we kinda knew this was coming. I feel for all our service men and women in foreign countries, or simply in towns that are far away from home. I empathize with those searching for the feeling of home in places that just don't feel like it.

I know we are all in different places in life. Some are easy, some are not, some suck, some cause us to celebrate. This place, with the dogs, with Reno is where the road has taken us. It's not easy, but it is right. I'll be better off because of it. Certainly this place needed another crazy dog lady, and that would be me.

Fencing

After 47 days (guess who was counting) without fencing at our little dog house we are finally secure! Kudos to Reno for his hard work to make this happen.

No more wait, wait, wait while I secure the boys on ropes. No more going out to untangle them after they have wrapped themselves around the trees. You can see the joy in their movement as they can prance across the yard without ropes. I can only guess it was a shock to them to be tethered. Huh, we have to be tied down? What, I can't get over to that spot that really smells good? Mommmm, I'm stuck!

I see many dogs in yards tethered. I hurt for them. We see one German Shorthair Pointer regularly on our walks. He lives in a tiny dog run, with a small dog house about 50' from the owner's house. I'd like a word with that owner. Okay, I'd like several. I imagine what my dogs might say to that dog as we pass..."hey, do you ever get out? Were you a really bad dog? Sucks to be you dude". And between Mick and Hank they probably say "damn, are we lucky dogs". And they are.

There are dog who never go further than their fenced yards. Never get out for walks, never get the joy of human touch and companionship. Never eat regularly, get groomed, or just plain loved up on. For those dogs I pray.

For mine, and the new fencing, I give complete thanks.

Giving Thanks

Yup, it's time. Time to pause for just a moment and say Thank You. It wouldn't hurt to throw in a God Bless You, and maybe an I Love You or two. I'm going to add, a phfewww, I've Survived too. It's been a roller coaster year.

It's my first Thanksgiving away from home. Wonder if at this age and stage of life I can claim a freshman 15. I doubt after age 50 anyone would believe it though. Maybe I'll just claim a new appreciation of all things familiar.

Even the dogs have new nicknames this year. Reno has dubbed them with Indian names. After many walks together Mr. Hanky is called Two Poops and Mick is called Sniffing Butts. So far, I haven't been named Squaw-That-Bitches-Alot. Or, Rivers of Tears. But I digress.

Hank takes not only one ritual poop per walk, but two. Hence, Two Poops. Mick sometimes walks slightly behind Hank and appears to be sniffing his butt. Not for the poop I hope. The good thing about where we live is that there are several trash companies, so someone always has a can on the curb that we can deposit the two poops in. Life is good.

So there you have it. A pause, with the paws, on this day to celebrate. I hope you have as much to give thanks for as I do. And may you always have an extra bag to pick it up with.

Picking and Choosing

If I had to pick between the personalities of Hank and Mick, it would be a tough choice. Hank goes through life with pure joy and in "lalala" mode. Mick is definitely more cool, dignified and would look really good with a monocle.

Mick is my hunter. Even on leash he's in hunt mode. Hank? Not so much. Perhaps Hank was a blonde in another life, and Mick was a scholar and athlete. Hank was a Miss Congeniality. Mick was a little cool and distant. Hank was voted most likely to say pet me, pet me, pet me. Mick was voted most likely to be the strong silent type.

Truthfully, I'd like to be as driven as Mickey is. But I'm closer to happy-go-lucky like Hank is. Mick is the one usually to go on point. Hank will honor Mick's point some of the time. If those two brain cells are active at that exact time.

Both are good cuddlers, although Hank tries to be at one with you, and Mick is content to ease gently up to you. Hank enthusiasm should be bottled, cloned or put in pill form.

Truth be told if I had to pick, I'd choose them both again. They are just the best in all respects. But then again, I didn't pick them. They were chosen for me.

Reflections

The seasons are changing. Frost, cold winds, some snow. Dark. Very dark. We walk in the morning and in the evening and we see lots of dark. Dark and cold. Dark and windy. Dark with a glimpse of light on the horizon. Dark, and more dark. So glad the dogs are mostly white!!

The dogs don't care if it's dark or light for our walkies. I am the one who feels vulnerable in the dark. Reno asked me one day if I was practicing for being homeless as I layered several coats on for my walk. Very funny. It was that time of the season where it was too cold for my light jacket, and still not cold enough for my winter coat. Fashion is not a necessity when walking in the dark.

My one concession for walking in the dark is to put reflective collars on the dogs. I'm amused at how I never bought reflective collars, but over the years I acquired them. I know Mr. Hanky came into rescue with one, not sure where the other came from. I love how when I needed them I already had them. If that isn't cause for reflection I don't know what is. More often in life we have what we need, we just don't realize it.

It's comforting to me on the walks to have that bit of light shine on the dog's collars. Now it's pretty quiet when we walk, so I may be the only one who sees that. Still it feels right. I still need to add something reflective to my apparel, but for now the dogs lead and their light shines.

Published

So I write this blog, and am blessed to have a small following of readers. Actually you all are volunteers as well as readers. Don't get me wrong, I dig it. I love the process of writing. It tickles me pink to have others that enjoy my crazy dog lady thoughts and life.

I am feeling totally affirmed to have my writing being published by someone other than myself. A short story I wrote about former foster dog Sidney is being published in one of the Happy Tails Books. It is in their book entitled Lost Souls: FOUND, vol. 2.

Now I submitted the story about two years ago. So when they wrote asking for a picture of the dog in the story I sent one of Kobe. I wrote a lot about Kobe. Oh! You want a picture of Sidney? Really? I wrote about Sidney?? If nothing else there will always be a blonde at this keyboard, and she is certain to pull her blonde card for all to see.

Now it's not like I'll be receiving royalties for this story and that's okay. It is a feather in my cap, a biscuit in the dog's Kong, a ribbon on my bulletin board to have this happen. You can get a copy by going to www.happytailsbooks.com. I hope the story is good. It's been so long I'm not sure. I do know Sidney was a blessing, so the story must be good, cause he was good. Thanks Sidney for helping a crazy dog lady achieve a dream.

Day Light Savings Time

Dear Doggies - we switched the clocks over the weekend. We "fell" back an hour. Nobody told you did they? Being creatures of habit you are on the old schedule. I'm struggling with the new schedule.

It is as much of a psychological change as a physical one. You say 6am, the clock says 5am. I have a hate, hate relationship with that. You so let's go, let's go, let's go. I say NO, NO, NO. But guess who wins?

Yes, our morning walks at 5:30am are quiet. And dark. Did I mention how dark it is at that time? And quiet. So quiet I wish I was still in bed.

Just for kicks and giggles let's swap schedules. You be the "hooman" and I'll be the dog. Right now, I'd be back in bed napping after my morning walk and breakfast. Ahhhhh......what a life. Walk, pee, eat, nap. I think I could adjust to that.

Maybe tomorrow you guys could humor me and let me sleep in for an extra fifteen minutes. And then the next day you could humor me some more. We could gradually adjust every one's time table. Until I reach a point I don't hate Day Light Savings Time so much. You wouldn't think this slight adjustment would muck things up so much. But it does. It's 7:15am. The doggies are already napping, and I sure could use one.

Sign me....weary and frustrated, time changes suck.

Random Thots - November

Celebrations sometimes are slow in coming. We planned, when we got engaged, to simply enjoy the moment for 6 months, then crack open a bottle of Moscato D'Asti and plan the wedding. Hmmmmm, that was many months ago. In fact, we've been married for over 4 months now and we just opened that bottle of wine. Rather like life, the celebrations are still sweet even if the timing isn't according to our plan.

We feel that way about the recent loss of Sophie. The timing certainly wasn't what we envisioned, but our part in her life is still very sweet. We thought our time with Hank would be short and we are still blessed daily by this silly boy. He must have more love to share and he is such an expert at it.

We are settling into our routine here. Hoping soon to have the fencing finished in the back yard so Hank and Mick don't have to be tethered anymore. As soon as you let them loose (on ropes) they precede to tangle themselves around trees and each other. It's the canine version of the childrens string game Cat's In The Cradle. As smart as they are they are not able to back track and unwind. I have never seen such pathetic looks from them when they are all twisted up. I think of weave poles in agility as I unwind, back track, untwist and go round and round to free the boys. We will all have greater appreciation for safe fencing and the freedom to enjoy it. We will also have greater empathy for the dogs we see on our walks who are chained or tethered.

Last but not least, giving thanks is on our minds in the month of November. Mostly I'm thankful this week held healing and way less drama. Couldn't we all use more of that? Healing, less drama and a safe place to run. That would definitely help untangle life.

Never A Dull Moment

It's been quite a year for us. Okay, the last 6 months have been just nutso. Two graduations, two weddings, one move, one new job, one major accident, and the death of a foster dog.

What accident you might be saying? Well, Reno decided to take a dive from the attic, through the drywall, bouncing off two joists, and landing on the garage floor. You may have heard the racket, and you may have heard my screaming afterwards. I'm pretty sure Hank, Mick and I all had kittens. I think Reno had a litter too.

As luck would have it he may have fallen from the attic, but he did have an angel protecting him from serious injury. Granted, every part of his body hurts, but nothing was broken, and the staples in his head give him a very macho look.

So while we are in pain from losing our sweet little Sophie girl, and pain from hitting the concrete floor, we also have much to be thankful for. We have good reason to love, and feel love. To laugh, and laugh at ourselves. We have happy memories of Sophie, and lessons she gave us to carry on with. Part of us may be bruised (ok - lots of Reno is!!), but part of us is healing. And like I said, there is never a dull moment. Just many grateful moments.

Metamorphosis

How long does it take for a metamorphosis? In Sophie's case it was slightly over two years. It was a miracle. From shy, terrified pup, to well-loved happy pup. It was a journey of faith, trust and joy.

It was not nearly long enough, and just long enough to complete her. It included me, Scary Man, her adoptive Mom and host of others who encountered her along the way.

I can picture her in her safe place under my desk, and I can picture her discovering what it is to be loved. What it is to be safe. What it is to be a just a dog. A loved dog, that is.

And, I can picture her now. Dancing across fields, playing with toys, full of the joy from those who loved her along the way. She is brave, she is happy...and she waits for us just across the Rainbow Bridge.

We Love Our Walkies

For years now I've been a lazy dog owner. Not that the dogs didn't get exercise, it was just that they did it independent of me. I had the luxury of a large yard and could just let them out the door to run and play. Go play, go run, go hunt the yard, please don't eat the flowers.

Things have changed and I am learning a new way of life. It includes taking the dogs for walks instead of just letting them out to play. Yes, I still let them out to play, but it's in yard the size of a postage stamp. Not exactly the same experience for them. So we walk.

They love it! They love it in a wiggle butt, can we go, can we go, can we go now sort of way. I'm not sure they will love it as much in the cold and snow. We may be fair weather walkers, or they may toughen up! Oh wait, maybe I will toughen up.

Truth be told I'm not walking them as much as they are walking me. I've needed to get back to walking, and it's helps my head as I adjust to all these major life changes. So we walk. We walk in the morning and we walk in the evening. And it's good. We walk, and we embrace another aspect of our relationship. I'm not sure who's enjoying it most. And maybe that just doesn't matter.

Pulling Up Roots - Planting Roots

I completely believe everyone should move away from home, to another city, at least once in their life. Preferably when they are young and flexible. Not, me. I did it the hard way. I wanted until I was ancient (in dog years!)

It hasn't been an easy adjustment, for me or the dogs. Although, I think they are more somewhat more adaptable. Their main beef is that fact that we left the large sofa behind. What?? You left it?? That's where we sleep in the morning, it's where we sleep in the afternoon, and where we sleep sometimes at night? We think it's nap abuse to not have it with us. Only problem? It won't fit in the rental house. Sorry dogs...

Then there is the fencing issue. We have to do some to secure the yard. Oh ya, and we have a much smaller yard. It does have trees though, good for squirrel watching. I will appreciate a fenced yard so much after this period of tethering the dogs. Two dogs + three trees = one big tangle of ropes and dogs.

The plus side is we're walking the dogs twice a day. Hank has developed strong feelings for a church down the street. He takes a crap daily on their property. I should tack some waste bags on the tree down there for easy clean up.

Surprisingly it's just as hard to pull up roots, as it is to plant them. Each new thing I do there to establish our new life makes me cry. For the record I am an easy weeper. If there were stats on tears I'd be setting world records. I understand the why, and can anticipate the when...so now I just have Kleenex handy.

In spite of the challenges, it is a joy to be together again. Just as it will be a joy when we have two bathrooms again! We've lost some things, and we've gained others. It is just part of the process of moving in and moving on.

Don't Forget the Treats...

Hank - Hey, where is all the stuff? Why did the big truck take it all away?
Mick - Mummy is still here we have everything we need.
Hank - Do we get to go?
Mick - Mummy promised we would... I'm just not sure where we're going.
Hank - What about treats?
Mick - We have treats...

I suspect moving will not be a big deal for the dogs. Not as big as it is for me. Their yard has a tree. So there will be squirrel hunting, so it's all good. Of course they will have to run tons of small laps instead of having a huge yard to run in. Maybe they will learn to play with each other more. Okay, maybe they will just plain learn to play with each other.

I keep reminding them, or is it me?, we'll have everything we need. And more blessings than we could imagine. Plus we have each other, and treats, we have treats.

So we enter a new chapter in our lives. A new yard to explore, new territory to mark, new rooms to sniff, new places to curl up and have sweet doggie dreams in.

New Beginnings

I now know first hand what it's like to be a foster. World completely turned upside down, different rules, new people, strange surroundings. Few, if any things familiar. It's a scary thing. I may piddle on the floor just from stress. I may be a little bit growly. I may be lonely and mourn the old life.

It is just plain stressful. Truth be told yesterday, my first day in a new city, at a new job, was hard. Away from my kids, dogs and most of my support system. I felt like a dog in a cold, lonely shelter. I cried.

Now, it's not all gloom and doom. It is just a big big change for me. Today was a much better day, and Reno is relieved the tears are not flooding the streets any more.

In the future, I'll be more understanding of fosters and people in transition. I will extend a gentle hand to soften sharp edges of change. I hope those I encounter here will be gentle with me. I'm new, I'm stressed and I need help knowing this is a safe place to call home.

Shhhhushhhh.....

I can distinctly remember my kids slurping their beverage with straws and the noise they would make. If I had a dime for every time I shushed them, or said "quit making that racket". Drink it nice.

Well, let me tell you. Kids slurping have got nothing over dogs licking. Not that I would, but I could lick my hand and no one would ever hear it. But a dog, licking its paw, flank, or bum could break the sound barrier.

I thought Hank was going to lick his butt clear off last night. And I felt for him. I sure don't want mine to be as uncomfortable as his was, ever! He was noisy and miserable, which made me just miserable.

I did all I could for him. Loved up on him, rubbed him, patted him. Told him to quit licking and go lay down. Oh wait, he was already laying down. In the end we both slept fitfully. Today he went to the vet to have that little issue resolved. But that's another whole blog.

Tonight, no licking, none, zip, nada, I hope. Ahhhhh.....silence is a lovely sound.

House and Home

This is going to sound funny, but I have some things to say to my house and home. First of all house - I love you. You have been very, very good to me. I love your rooms and halls, the fireplace, the garden, the laughter.

The new carpet and windows are the best, and paint, oh you look so pretty. You have been safe day in and out, and crazy too thanks to my kids and the multitude of paws that have run through here.

If you could tell stories you'd have some whoppers!! Nope, I'm not going to go into details! You got me through the early times of my divorce and the last years my kids lived at home. I know my one son wasn't impressed with you. He said you weren't a good party house. But, I beg to differ! You went through my empty nest days and into my newlywed days.

You've seen our struggles and our successes. If houses could cry I'm sure mine would have. If houses could laughed mine would have wet itself. If houses could roll eyes it would have each time a new dog came to reside here. If houses could self-clean like ovens I'd adore it even more!

And I know too, that there are house that are simply houses and houses that are homes. The difference being the investment of self into it. Just like the Beatles said, "And in the end
The love you take
Is equal to the love you make.

House, I shall miss you. Home, I won't leave you behind.

Lucky Dog, Lucky Patients, Lucky Me

I've been doing pet therapy visits with my dogs from many years now. First Abby, then Kobe, then Mick and sometimes Mr. Hanky. We've been regulars at the hospital on Tuesday afternoons. Next week will likely be our last visit at that facility.

It is probably the most selfless house of my week. Selfless, touching, amusing, heartbreaking, heartwarming and humorous. I've been asked a zillion things about my dogs and have pretty much taken it all in stride. Is that a Dalmatian? Oh, is that coon hound? Is that a greyhound? Is that a springer? Is that German shorthair? Is that great dane? Is that a dalmatian (we get this one a lot).

It tickles me pink when someone pops up with "now that's an English Pointer". I pretty much want to hug those people immediately! Today I had a patient give Mick the ultimate compliment. Yup, this guy rubbed him all over, said he wasn't a fatty, and that he had the teeth of a 6 yr old. Yes!!! Made my day!! I was happy the teeth passed muster. But truthfully, what a lovely compliment. Of course then the guy asked how much I wanted for him. I told him he couldn't afford him. He said, no really, how much would I sell him for. I told him I wouldn't sell him for love or all the money in the world. I think he was kidding, but I wasn't taken any chances.

Hell no I wouldn't sell a dog in top condition and with lovely teeth. One of us has to look this way, it might just as well be Mickey.

Gordon and Nancy's Excellent Adventure

So perhaps I've been dragging my feet some on this excellent adventure business. Most of you know it's been a big year, new jobs, marriage, moving, trying to sell a house. Lots of stressful challenges for us. It's time for me to embrace change, ask for help, and trust in an unknown outcome.

From here on out it's been renamed. G&N's Excellent Adventure. Positive thinking and all that jazz! It's very much like fostering. You don't know what your going to get, but you have to expect the best.

Our dilemma right now is housing. We need some rental property, or we need to win the lottery. Or we need a cash buyer for my house. It could happen! So I'm going to network right here and now. Do you know anyone in the Grand Island, NE area with rental property that accepts medium sized dogs?? If I dissected them into 10lb doggies we might be okay. I wouldn't do that, so Hank and Mick you can put the defibrillator away.

The dogs can provide references. I will even get references that aren't totally biased. I don't think the dogs understand this excellent adventure we are em'bark'ing on. If they did they'd be praying their little tails off.

Now, I hesitate to say it, but I have a plan "B" if we can't find housing that will take the dogs. They can stay temporarily here, with a family member. But I think it might break my heart. Excellent adventures aren't so much fun with a broken heart.

So, if you know anyone in Grand Island, have a business associate, a former business associate, a friend, an old friend, or the desire to buy property in the area and rent it to a lovely professional couple with good dogs. Now is the time. You too can partake in our Excellent Adventure.

MIA

Guess I have been MIA of late. Did you miss me?

Without a foster dog around to keep things lively it's been kind of quiet. Quiet, if you don't take into account a wedding, listing a house, job hunting, having a daughter get married, and a pending move. Ya, it's been so quiet.

Here is where we are. House hasn't sold, but I have employment. Employment is good. I'll start my new job October 10th. So between now and then we need to find housing. Frankly, we need a miracle, a money tree, and a fairy God Mother. Is there an APP for that?

I should be packing things instead blogging. But, what would be the fun in that. I like to think I'm a an easily adaptable kinda gal. I can dream can't I? I like to think I am faith filled. I am, but still I worry. I worry about moving, leaving the kids, making new friends, being homesick, getting lost, being lonely. I'm not afraid to own that I am afraid. Pulling up roots is probably easier when you are younger. Should have done that 30 years ago.

But, and there is always a but, this too shall pass. Just praying it's a semi-smooth ride into our new life together. And, that I'm not a blubbering mess through the whole process. In the meantime somebody please send the link to that APP, I think I might need it.

Happy Feet On the Path of Life

I am sometimes, okay, most times one of the lazy dog owners that just lets her dogs out in the yard to play. I don't walk them. Tsk, tsking myself on that. Walks would do us both good.

So this morning Hank and I did just that. Now Hank and I have done a lot of things together, but recreational walking is not one of them. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Wait? We're just going to walk? Huh? Really?? He was uncertain. Cars driving by made him skittish. So walking on leash for any distance must not have been a life experience for him either.

He did very good. It wasn't a mark every post, pole and blade of grass event. Though he did find the one mud puddle and immediately drop to rub his face and shoulder in it. I didn't see that one coming. Then to share his bliss he walked right next to me and rubbed it on my leg. He has such a giving nature.

On the return trip we used the sidewalk to avoid the mud puddle. The netted me $1.56in spare change from someone's pocket. What a windfall that was. To think I might have missed out on that! Thank God for Mr. Hanky.

Without the walk there would be no mud. Without the mud there would be no $1.56. Without Hank, there would be no fullness of love that only his silly self can provide.

It was a walk to remember.

Belly Flops

I love this concept. Jelly Belly's - the Jelly Bean we all know and love is packaging their slightly imperfect jelly beans as Belly Flops.

Whoever thought that up is a genius. I will never buy a bag another bag of perfect beans again. We need to embrace the imperfect. The slightly off shape, the stuck together, the over sized, the undersized, the odd beans of the world. The same goes with people.

Life is full of surprises, why would we want our jelly beans uniform. Now that I've seen the character of the irregulars, they are distinctly more appealing.

Try them, you'll like them.

sign me - celebrating the flops of the world, now pass me the beans please....

Random Thots - September

First of all, September??? Holy Hannah I can't believe it's September. A new page turned on the Pointer Rescue calender. And in all fairness a new page turned on the German Shorthair calendar too.

Hank gave me a look of total disgust today. I had the audacity to ask him to walk away from a bowl that still had kibble in it. It wasn't his bowl. But, in his eyes any unattended bowl of food is his bowl. I thought his head was gonna spin 180 degrees when I told him to leave it. Walk away from the bowl Hank.....what?? what?? what??? No, no, no....that is just wrong! He probably thinks his owner has a screw loose. Would he be wrong?

Another news flash...homes sales suck. Wish I could write the ad this way: Lovely, three bedroom home for sale. Dog friendly yard, full of laughter and good karma. New furnace (okay after next week that will be true), home warranty package, new carpet, some new windows. Nose prints at no extra charge. Owner serves cookies at open houses, eager to sell.

Along that same line, I'd like to encourage St. Joseph to get to work on bringing me a buyer. Hellloooo Joe - are you sleeping?? No disrespect meant, but St. Joe - you have some pretty high up contacts could you work a miracle for me?? I'll be sure the dogs don't pee where you are buried in the yard.

There you have it, a September wish and a prayer... I truly believe if Hank can walk way from a bowl of kibble that St. Joe can find me a buyer. Miracles do happen.

Who Is Training Who?

Over the years my kids have witnessed many acts of kindness. You know, things you do because it's the right thing to do and because you can.

Like sending flowers, and making a meal for someone in need. They saw this over and over and it warms my heart to see them do these things for their friends. Well, they have got the idea, the execution isn't perfect, but I'm thrilled they know what to do.

I haven't figured out if my oldest son is really smart, or really lazy, but he's getting the job done. His girlfriend's father has been ill and recently passed away. As the floral expert in the family he called to have me order flowers to go to the hospital. No problem, I can do that. I thought it was very sweet. After the death, I was asked to make some lasagna for the family. Again, I'm tickled pink he wanted to do this...and that he thinks Mom's lasagna is pretty tasty. I'm kinda surprised he didn't ask his sister the chef to do the cooking. Proof I still have the knack!

I didn't mind in the least cooking for him. I love his generous spirit, which I know he witnessed at home. And, I'm amused at how he still has me wrapped around his finger. Not necessarily a bad thing....

Leaps of Faith

There are dogs who leap 20+ feet off a dock into a pool of water in the Super Retriever Series of Dock Dogs competitions. It is an amazing event. Dogs who live to retrieve and love the water. It's mostly a lab driven event, but there are Golden's, GSP's, mixed breeds, Spaniels....you name it, if the dog loves the water they will be there jumping. This year's event was held at Scheel's Sporting Goods. We go to watch my son's dog Decoy jump. Labs and water are pretty much synonymous.

They also offer time for fun jumps for those who haven't ever tried dock jumping. Victories in that category are measured much differently.

For example, I took Mr. Hanky for the fun jump session this morning. For a dog who was picked up a stray, found his way into rescue and has mast cell tumors every day is a victory. We went for a much different reason. We went to experience something new together. To seize the moment, to test the water, to jump into new experiences.

Okay, so "jumping" may be a stretch. First off, I didn't even know if he'd been in water before. Other than the water torture he associates with getting a bath. So, my expectations were low. Way lower than the distance from the dock to the water. In fact we didn't even go up on top of the dock. We went to the side ramp to walk him up one side and down the other into the water. I'm sure people watching considered our attempts feeble and laughable. Hank was uncertain and certainly not eager. With help we got him to go up the ramp and down into the water. If Hank could talk he would have been swearing like a sailor.

He wasn't the most athletic dog there, or adventurous, or ball driven. And who knows if he'll be here next year to try again. It was a victory measured through the bond of love and adventure. Once was enough for Hank, and for me. It was a small leap of faith that made huge indelible memories. I came away with a wet dog, and happy memories. Life is good.

600 posts......

600 blogs and counting....thank you for reading and sharing. For reading and laughing, for reading and pondering, for reading and hearing.

The dogs want you to know I am every bit as crazy as I sometimes sound, and there is room for growth!

Without the dogs....life would not be.

Abundance

I didn't plant much of a garden this season. Frankly, because I thought we would be moved by harvest time. I did, as a nod to the Garden God's plant one tomato plant, because I could not sleep if I hadn't planted at least one.

I also figured I might have a volunteer or two in the vegetable garden. I was not wrong. I have cherry tomato's galore! Not just one variety either. Little cherry tomato's, big cherry tomato's, cherry tomato's that look like regular tomato wanna be's. There are even yellow cherry tomato's - not sure where they came from.

Except..... and this is the good part, that abundance knows no bounds. The vines have gone wild. I've even pruned them so I can actually get into the garden area. They could stand pruning again. Who prunes tomato vines?? Seriously?

With all due respect, the weeds have grown as abundantly as the 'maters have. But I shall focus on the happy harvest. Thank you garden, thank you tomato's, thank you abundance that comes in so many ways, shapes and forms.

In A Holding Pattern

Yup, we're waiting. Waiting for the house to sell, for a new job to be offered to me, to find new housing, for our new life together to begin. Waiting for all that to be settled so we can foster again.

In reality, it's all begun. Just can't see the progress right now. I am not good at waiting. I know I should be calm, collected, reserving energy for the excitement ahead. I should be like a tortoise, slow and steady packing and preparing. I'm not so much a tortoise. I more resemble a chicken with my head cut off. What do I do? When do I do it? Where do I do it? When will I know?? Why not now??

I have a hard time with questions with no answers. Perhaps we all do, so I ought to be more gentle with myself. I should tell myself to "breathe"...it helps. I should let go and let God, instead of sending up flares of anxiety. I should focus on the calm of my life right now.

The calm, oh ya, might not be a bad place to dwell for a while.

Makes you wonder...

Every other Saturday I go in early to open the store. There is almost always an older man sitting in his car when I arrive. Not unusual because we have a restaurant attached to our store. But, I have never seen this man go into the restaurant. Have never seen him get out of his car period. He is usually there for about 20-30 minutes after I arrive and then he's gone.

It makes me wonder what his story is. Perhaps, before I leave the store I'll have to ask him. Does he wait to "see" an estranged family member? Does he go to relieve memories of Saturday mornings with a loved one? Does he get there and forget to go in? Oh! It could be anything! It could be nothing, but it makes me wonder.

Then too, I wonder if he'll be offended if I inquire about his story. But, mostly, I think people want to share their stories. People want to be heard, long to be heard, love to be heard. Usually there is a gift to be had by asking and listening. I believe I will....

Grass is Greener

You know what they say....about grass....green grass...on the other side of the fence. It's true. Now, also understand, that every time the dogs go out in the yard it's like the very first time for them! Whohooo - we're running, it's a yard, could be birds, could be bunnies, could be toads, snakes and butterflies. It's our territory, see the dogs run, run dogs run.

Today - it was a new yard. We took Hank, Mick and our little visitor dog, Rascal, to a friends house to run. We were having an Open House and had to vamoose for 90 minutes. Mick was in his glory, running the perimeter, jumping off 4' retaining walls. That part made me nervous! Hank didn't run as much, but his special op was fertilization. Rascal didn't wander far, but a praying mantis about scared him out of his fur coat.

What a treat to see them reveling in the joy of a new yard. What a blessing to have friends who welcome you and your pack without reservation. A new yard has new path's to explore. A familiar yard has tried and true paths. All path's are run with abandon. And that is a dog gone delight.

Show Me Your Teeth

This title could read so many ways. There is the gleaming white knock 'em dead smile kind of show me your teeth. The don't mess with me I'm threatened curling of the lips to show you my teeth. There is the little baby has it's first tooth type of show me your teeth.

Then there is the black lab who showed me her teeth the other night. She wanted my attention. I told her to go lay down. She wanted my attention, I told her to go lay down. I turned my gaze from hers to further show that I meant business. So in a completely, non-aggressive, attention seeking manner Tobey showed me her teeth. I'm certain if she could talk she would have said "look at my pretty smile, now will you pet me? Now will you pet me, now will you pet me?? See me smile, now will you pet me". So I lost it at that point to laughter. It was a clever ploy and it worked. Point Tobey.

Personally, I'm feeling like showing my teeth in not a happy lab way. My house is up for sale, and yesterday the house next door to us went up for sale. Grrrrrrr.....I feel like I'm in limbo as it is. When will it sell, when will we move, where while we move? Will there be anything good to buy when we do sell?? I don't need the competition of two houses in the cul-de-sac for sale at one time. The stress is making my lips curl. Not a pretty sight.

So there you have it, happy lips, cranky lips. What can I say....lips happen.

Thanks for the Poo

Anyone who owns a dog knows the smell. It assaults you as soon as you enter the house and the hunt begins. Where is the gift that is not really a gift, but a nasty little surprise?

I had this experience today. Ohhhh nooooo... For a fleeting moment I hoped my nose was mistaken. Of course I was wrong. But, and there is always a but, this time there is cause to celebrate!

Maybe I should take a moment to do the happy dance, because certainly I have the smartest dog/dogs in the world. It doesn't matter who had the poo's, truly it doesn't. What matters is that they were courteous enough to go down stairs to the cement basement floor instead of using the new carpet. Yep, thems smart dogs.

Thank you, thank you, thank you who ever you are. I'm sorry for you not feeling well, but I'm eternally grateful you believe in selective pooing. Good dog Hank or Mick, Smelly Dog. You know who you are and I love you.

Say Cheez

There are many different types of dogs, well, duh. Let me try to explain. There are adorable skittish dogs like Sophie, there are stoic English gentlemen with monocles like Mick, there are "treats OMG liver treats" dogs like Pete, and then there is Hank.

Hank is the epitome of joy. He eat, sleeps and breathes joy. Although most times when I photograph that I end up with pic's of a dufus. Proof that what you see and what you get are sometimes worlds apart.

Perhaps when there is that much joy exuding from you it just comes out in shades of dufus. You don't have to be controlled, or diplomatic, or wear a mask. You let your guard down and just be. If just being, and being joyful at it, involves being a little cheezy and a dufus. Sigh me up. I'm learning from the Master.

Weeds, Work and other stuff

We've had our little Sophie visiting us this week. The only thing better than updates and photo's of a foster dog in their new home is to have one visit! She is still an early riser. Thankfully she is so stinkin cute. Once you get your sleepy eyes open you can't help but love her. I've loved her anywhere between 4:30am to 6am this week.

I realize if I kept her awake from 7-10pm, she'd probably sleep better for me. Trouble is I don't have much energy during those hours and dig the peace and quiet of lazy dogs in the evening. It's a mixed blessing.

We have been working like crazy people to get our house up on the market. This week the sign when up! Phfewwww.... I've had lots of conversations in my head about this. Such as "windows? how do you get so dirty". "Paint? who gave you permission to peel?" "Garden? Oh, I'm so sorry I've neglected you". "Weeds, you flipping buggers, who said you could grow this fast"? "House, I'm sorry we have all pretty only to let you go". "Home, you've been very, very good to me and I love you".

It's really bitter-sweet. Life changes are sometimes. You have to let go of one thing to receive another. Dang, I suck at that sometimes. Maybe we all do.

Shades of Cool

Let me just say this. Mick is a cool dude. I heard it first from his foster Mom, long ago. She was right, he is cool, classy, subdued, and debonair. At least he is when we do our pet therapy visits. At home, he is part cool, part clown, but we understand that.

Here is the deal, there were two dogs doing the therapy visit today. Mick, who is an English Pointer and Rosie who is an English Bulldog. England would have been proud of us today. The more unusual breed usually draws all the attention. Not a problem. If it's a giant breed, Mick goes invisible. If it's a toy breed, Mick goes invisible. People are enchanted by the unusual. He's cool with that.

But sometimes the other dog is a tough act to follow. Miss Rosie is a looker any day of the week. Paws down she draws attention. Today, besides her winning personality, she was wearing a pink polka dot swimsuit!! Omg, if I had a body like that (and maybe I do) I could never wear a pink polka dot swimsuit. But she did and people went gaga over her.

I'm pretty sure there is a rule out there somewhere that says you can't really dress up a pointer because they are so cool just the way there are. Mick is happy with that rule. He'll take understated cool and leave the over the top to Rosie. They can both pull it off.

Roller Coasters

Some people love roller coasters. Me, not so much. There is nothing exhilarating about it. Dread going up, terror going down. Not to mention nearly meeting my lunch coming up at the same time. No fun.

I admit to feeling like life is a roller coaster right now. It's all good, I know it will turn out all good, but it just doesn't feel good right now. In response I get weepy. Man, how do we turn the faucet off??

Hank is concerned about my emotional status. When he's not asleep, outside, or eating that is. Mick is possessed by the bunnies who have taken up residence in the fenced vegetable garden. Fenced gardens are both a blessing and a curse.

I wish I could be subtle about stress. Like that is gonna happen. I wish the crystal ball was....well....crystal clear. This too shall pass, I do know that. And I will wonder what all the turmoil was about.

For now, I'm about as worked up as Mick is to get the bunnies in the garden. We make quite a pair. Thankfully, Hank is showing us that napping is better way to approach life. It's a rough job, but someone has to do it.

Names

It dawned on me I put too much thought into dog names. Perhaps I need to keep it more simple.

A friend had pointers named Joker, Crusty, Bumpy, and Hoser. If I had done that we would have had Tooth Pick, Gnarly, Unpredictable Bitch (UB for short), Allerg-i-girl, FunkyLip, Bones, Shy Guy and Chicken Little.

Dang, I missed the boat. I'm going to have to rethink the whole naming process. Dopey, Grumpy, Nasty, Schmuck, Lazy, Frenzy and Doozie all of a sudden have great potential. Of course, it's a good thing people aren't named that same way.

The best part is that even silly names like that can become terms of endearment. Or maybe, we'll stick with a semi-tradition name, and have some colorful nicknames. Oh, wait, we do that already. Right, Mr. Hanky???

Vows

I do, I do. Or what to do, what to do. Or I have dogs, therefore I am.

Having just said the I Do's, the I Will's, the in good times and in bad I admit to having vows on the brain. For the record, we did giggle through our vows. I was getting emotional, feeling weepy and then Reno made a little face at me. That is when the giggles happened. I laughed, he laughed, we couldn't stop laughing, then we couldn't even make eye contact without cracking up again. Not that we didn't take those words seriously, we do! Sometimes laughter just happens.

But I digress.....making the big "M" commitment got me thinking about the commitment we make to our pets. The same rules apply. In good times, and in bad, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part. That means when they are cute and when they are disgusting. Yesterday Hank had a little dead rodent. He couldn't decide whether to consume it or roll on it. I made the decision for him even though it grossed me out. Yes, if Reno was around I'd have pulled the "I can't do that" card. But he wasn't so I did. I vowed to keep Hank safe, and in this case clean, and I did.

I have dogs, and a hubby, so I made those commitments with an open heart. Luckily he is as committed to the dogs as I am. It's a day in, day out promise to love, honor and clean up an occasional rodent. I will, he will, We Do!

Walking down the....

Yep, it's almost time to take that stroll. You know the one. Soon I'll be walking down the aisle. And before you know it I will be Mrs. Scary Man.

This explains a lot. Like why I haven't been writing much. Well, I have, but just in my other blog http://secondchanceweddings.blogspot.com

I have been writing some, and traveling a lot. And trying to get my house ready for sale. So life has been pretty full. Some of our stuff is here, some is in a storage shed. We haven't listed this house, haven't found another house. Scary Man comes and goes, I stay put, sorta. If you rule out the 11 out of 14 days of travel recently. Hank and Mick were very concerned with my absence. Mick is a picky eater at best, so he totally dislikes when I am gone. Hank eats like a horse and will eat Mick's too given half a chance.

This week we take that leap of faith into married life. I do, he does, we do. There are things the vows say, like love, honor, and keep. I'm certain that means love honor and keep fostering. I refuse to obey, but would substitute negotiate. Scary Man has been practicing his vows, they include saying Yes Dear, I'm Sorry and Here is the Checkbook. So far he's been a quick study.

It's an exciting walk we're taking, and we are pretty darned blessed to be taking it.

Just Sign Us - Mrs. Scary Man & Mr. Crazy Dog Lady - I think we make a good pair.

Wandering Thots

"If she doesn't buy dog food before going to the airport we demand to be rehomed" ~Hank & Mick

Hmmmmmm, I sensed a pending uprising. They were getting nervous, asking for passport information, mentioning running on beaches far away. Concerned that food rations were getting slim and Mom was packing that funny bag with wheels on it yet again. They looked at me out of the corners of their eyes, gauging my every move.

Now, let me just say - I wouldn't leave home without the pups being in good hands. So off I went to get food. When I'm pressed for time I run to a nearby dog grooming store who also carrys my brand of dog food. Well, not my brand, because I don't eat dog food. You know what I mean.

So I'm talking to the owner, with food in hand. My mouth is carrying on normal conversation about the weather, the college world series, the government. We covered a lot of territory in just a few moments. But while my mouth is talking small talk, my mind is thinking...Wow - this guy needs his eyebrows trimmed. Oh look, he has nose hairs needing trimming too! Seriously, this guy is a groomer! Shouldn't he look in the mirror once in a while between dogs?? Couldn't he give himself a puppy cut in the name of good business practices??

So there you have it....the dogs got food, and my mind wandered the random world of grooming. It's probably a good thing I don't wander like this while operating heavy machinery.....oh wait, I don't operate heavy machinery. Phfeww......

Homeward Bound

There are many applications to this statement in life. Homeward Bound - ahhhhh..... That means today I get to see the dogs, Reno, home and savor the comfort of my own bed.

In the meantime, which is where we all are, I wait in the Portland Airport. Sometimes I need to be forced to sit still. I'm not good at sitting still. Understatement alert!!! I am sort of like Sophie in that way. I'm always just shy of settling and about to begin movement. Hmmmm...I'm not sure this is a good thing. If I was more like Mickey I'd be napping, or beginning to nap, or just waking up from a nap. Or hunting after the previously mentioned nap. If I was more like Hank, I'd be exuding happiness and soaking up affection.

I'm a little guilty this week of wanting time to pass fast. I'm eager to get home because I feel like I'm not doing enough. It's complicated isn't it?

Some of us are always on journey trying to find what home is. Some of us are home and don't realize it. Some of us are homeward bound and can't wait, some are homeward bound and dragging their heels.

Now, I have a long enough wait at the airport today to make a quilt, give birth (including gestation) or build a house. Or some combination of all three. Hurry up, wait, breathe, relax. Time for gratitude and anticipation. Okay, I'll embrace that.

Which World

This week I'm in my travel world and have to be away from home. I'm in the city with the largest number of dogs per capita than anywhere else. So, how come I'm needing a doggie fix in the worst way? Which leads me to the question? Why aren't more business meetings scheduled in dog parks? Why don't doggie day cares have meeting rooms for the public. It seems that would increase productivity.

I haven't seen a hunting dog since last Thursday. I've only petted two dogs, one an English Bulldog in the Portland Airport, and one a Boston Terrier at a Farmers Market. Cute dogs, both of them. Willing, dogs - both of them. Willing to receive the needy attention of a dog lover far from home.

If I'm supposed to ask and I shall receive...let me make this request. Lord, I need a hunting dog fix. Preferably a pointer. I think it's okay to be very specific. I need this for health reasons. Dogs are good for my mental health. I need it for comfort reasons. Their presence brings me comfort. I need it for humor reasons. They laugh with their tails, I laugh at their tails. I feel best in the company of dogs.

In my world, which sometimes includes travel, I need my fix of doggies. Here I am Lord.....send me a dog, or two. .....Amen

Random Life Thots

Twenty three days until the wedding. Did I mention one of the bathrooms has practically been gutted? Plenty of time and not nearly enough time. Add to that 13 travel days for me and only 4 days at home for Reno. Somewhere in this time frame I need to get the house on the market.

They say that moving, getting married and changing jobs are some of the most stressful life events we go through. So let's do them all this summer and get the stress over with.

I'd be lying if I said it's been easy lately. Reno is ready to pitch me into the river and I've been tempted to buy him a one way ticket somewhere...anywhere. I am so dreaming of the days when we look back on this time and laugh. And we will, we'll laugh at how stressed I was, and how hard it all seemed. We'll laugh because the larger plan was so much better than we dreamed. We will laugh and we'll give thanks.

Right now we're counting down. To the wedding, to the move - even though we don't know where we are moving to yet. To the end of the decrapping and the packing. It's such a time of who, what, when, where, why and how. Oh Lordy, someone tell me how.

Through it all my best friend (hello!! that would be Reno) and the dogs keep me from totally wiggin out. I come close, and it isn't pretty, but they anchor me. Thank God for that.

Still Here Somewhere

Ahhhh, did you wonder has she fallen off the face of the earth? Doesn't she love us anymore? Is life so dull there is nothing to write about? Since Sophie left is it completely peace and quiet there?

I'll just answer that with no, no, no and NO! Followed by some slightly hysterical laughter.

Lots going on, packing boxes, projects to get the house up for sale, wedding countdown in progress, huge 50th anniversary events at the store, upcoming business travel. All manner of activity going on.

Still I am compelled to stop and pull weeds whenever I go near the garden. This year it's not going to matter if I get those tree seeds pulled. Still I try. If only I was a productive as they are proliferous.

From the canine department Hank managed to get to the floral arrangement that Momma Robin built her nest in. She and I had been conversing daily about her eggs hatching. Honestly I loved greeting her every time I crossed the porch. The nest was high enough, I just forgot how high Hanks vertical jump is. He managed to get a paw on it and yank the arrangement and nest down. He even cleaned up the eggs. Oh so sorry Momma Robin. You have my permission to dive bomb Hank whenever you see him in the yard.

To say I've been a bit emotional about all the excitement in our life is an understatement. Alcohol consumption is up, as is the number of times I pray out loud. Do you realize how many ways you can finish the phrase "oh Lord...." I'm trying not to use a lot of expletives in sentences that begin with "Oh Lord". Sometimes I fail. I try to remember how exciting all this is and how blessed we are, and how I love adventure. I usually end up rolling my eyes and invoking a colorful "Oh Lord" or two. It's a good thing He has such a good sense of humor and a forgiving nature.

So that sums it up. Lots going on. More to come. I can hardly wait!

Motion and Commotion

Sophie is visiting and is not happy with the activity level around here. I can't say as I blame her.

There is a scary man in the living room laying carpet, and two scary men in the yard repairing siding issues. There is stinky carpet glue, saws and drills, and general disorder. Progress is messy.

I do understand. I may have to take some of her anxiety med's to help me get through the day. Not sure at this point who needs them more. Hank and Mick are playing in the yard. There are are mud puddles and standing water from heavy rains this week. Hank's belly is coated with mud spatters.

I'm wondering if perhaps a alcoholic beverage might be in order before 11am this morning. Although it does set a bad example for the workers. And, frankly, I'm sure Sophie would like a swig too.

All in the name of progress. All testing my faith and patience. All falling under the "this too shall pass" category of life. All are blessings too. Noisy, dirty, smelly blessings. Of which I am infinitely graced.....

So for the morning Sophie and I are hanging out in the office to stay as far away as possible from the motion and commotion. Now, where is my flask.

Hunt 'Em Up Pete

You may recall a handsome foster dog we had the privilege of housing by the name of Pete. This boy came from rural Iowa and lived in an unheated barn in the dead of winter for a time while waiting to get into rescue. From rural Iowa he made it to urban Omaha and then landed in the Big Apple, New York City. That was a pretty big hop, skip and jump he made.

Pete lives a charmed life. From the hustle bustle of the city, door men, elevators and being treated to lamb chops on his birthday he wants for nothing. Well, except for a little hunting. He is a pointer after all. Living in the city just means he has to be more creative that's all.

He sees pigeons on his daily walks. To a huntin dawg a bird is a bird is a bird and Pete is a hunter. One must, city or no city, point at the birds when you see them. Pete's owner indulges him.

Imagine the scene, handsome pointer in the thick of city life. People hurrying by, buses, cars and cabs, noise and activity. People rushing, and yet, in that moment Pete is alone with the bird he is pointing at. Everything fades away except for his instinct and the bird.

For years he hunts and points the pigeons. Someone told him they taste like chicken. He wants to know for sure. Quietly, in the noisy city, he points and hunts. Until he realizes he must seize the moment. Now I want to know how many times he thought dangit...I shoulda....it was right there. I could almost taste feathers.

Until the day comes that the urge to seize the bird was greater than the joy of just the hunt. And seize it he does. Much to the shock of his owner, to the surprise of the passers by, and to the very dismay of the pigeon! Hold crap he caught one. And he was not about to relinquish it. Chicken, it's gonna taste like chicken!!!! Oh such a great day in Pete's life. Doing what he was born to do despite the unlikely hunting odds in the city.

I am certain there was quite a ruckus. Not to mention people going to work and saying, man, guess what I saw on the street today! Pete scored one for the Gipper, for pointers everywhere. And in the end he released it. The bird lived, the owner cheered and Pete beamed. Life is good in the Big Apple.

So Quiet

It is so quiet without Sophie around. I miss having her curled up under my desk while I'm working or playing on the computer. For a timid little thing she has a huge presence!

I am fairly certain Hank and Mick are not missing her at all. Phfewww.....they have 16 months of uninterrupted naps to catch up on. They are loving it. Now, she'll be coming back over the weekend for a little stay, but that is a need to know thing for Hank and Mick.

Often we have a greater appreciation for things when they are gone for a while. I'm not sure the boys will apply that to Sophie, but it general it's true.

Sophie being gone is about the only quiet thing in life right now. I feel like I'm about to climb into a hamster wheel and go for a long spin. Sometimes, well, once maybe, I felt really calm about that. I keep trying to get back to that place. I realize it's a choice whether I run around like a chicken with my head cut off. Perhaps that's why my Mom used to call me Chicken Little.

It would be nice if I could harness that anxiety and focus it into some major productivity. Hahahaaaahhaaaa....oh yes, this is me we're talking about.

So, for now, the boys enjoy the quiet. And I know quiet is a relative term. Others have ridden this hamster wheel and come out the other side. I will too.

Big Changes

If only faith rained down in buckets. Sort of like last night when we got 2" of rain in 30 minutes. Imagine how nice that would be. I can visualize moping up the floor because all the faith spilled over, just like the rain last night. Of course, last I checked it didn't work that way.

I could safely say I/we are in the season of big changes. Big changes = big stress + counting down to the wedding and moving. My challenge is to approach each day with a positive spirit and a full serving of faith.

I know just how Sophie felt when she came to us. Give me a crate and I will gladly hide in it. Let me know when all the drama is over!! Word has it she is settling in well! She's found the master bed and gave it her seal of approval. She has absconded with her owners bra and gave it a run about the house. Oh, this foster Mom is so proud. Such important life skills.

Find a soft place to settle in. Run for joy dragging something with you. Have faith. When you can't find the faith, ask for help. Then wait until it rains down.

Slow Journey's

Dear Sophie - today is the first day of the rest of your life. Our work here is done. It is time to go forth and prosper. Perhaps we should break that into baby steps for you.

Today your new Momma will pick you up and you will have a long, long car ride. Try not to crap in the crate. There is no shame in it, if you have to, but it is a long ride in the car. She knows all about you. She knows you will be scared. She will be gentle with you. Always run to her, not away from her. I may have forgotten to mention there will be cats in your new home. Rumor has it one is as scared as you are. Be nice to them, actually be nice to whoever you cross paths with. Some may be even more scared than you are. A gentle hand and a soft touch goes a long way in life.

Remember you are dog - and a mostly normal one at that. You have grown up a lot in the last 17 months. You have learned how to run and play, to trust (most of the time) and to relax. Many of us need to learn these same things.

Your new home will have a fence like ours and a canine friend named Brandy. It has a desk for you to lay under, and I think if you wrap her around your paw like you did us, a bed for you to sleep on. Frankly, I think she's knows about you sleeping on the bed. Don't make her wait too long to enjoy that comfort.

In a few weeks you'll and your Momma will take the long drive back to Omaha to visit. She has work to do here and you both will stay with us during that time. I'm sure Hank and Mick will welcome you with open arms.

You may not know it, but the fun is just beginning dear Sophie. You have exactly what we have always wanted for you. A new life, a second chance, a forever home...and the life skills to enjoy it.

Girl Time

Girl time is special. Girlfriend time is sacred. Maybe I treasure it more because all my siblings are boys, so I never got the sister I always wanted. Thankfully I have a daughter so I have that blessing in my life.

Sophie is our first female foster and our first Nebraska foster dog. Yup, we've had fosters from IA, OK, KS, and MO, about time we had one from Nebraska. I think if we eventually have one from SD and CO we can say we've fostered all our surrounding states, plus Oklahoma!

Sophie is a few days away from moving to MN. I wonder if I should be shopping for a coat and muklucks for her? We have been enjoying some quality girl time together recently. In fact, at night I've been banishing Hank and Mick to the sofa. Egads, the horrible treatment they receive! Somebody call the ASPCA.

Sophie and I have been sharing the bed at night. Sounds racey, but it's really quite sweet. It used to be, if she was brave enough to lay down on the bed, that she'd bolt if anyone so much as twitched. Now she settles in, completely relaxed and snoozes the night away. Sweet!

I think our work here is done. Although still a bit timid she is about 1000% more normal than when she came into our care. She is as normal as normal can be and we all know normal is relative.

Now my only worry is how long it will take her to get back to normal after her move. The good thing is she already knows her new owner. Thankfully she'll have that comfort to build on. And hopefully, the foundation we built with her will ease her way in the days ahead. In the mean time - I'm diggin the girl time.

Sometimes you want to Shout!

True, true, sometimes you want to shout! But Mr. Hanky has his own take on that. He is very expressive when excited, when kibble is involved, when Penny (hubba hubba) the German Shepard a few doors down is out, and when he wants inside. It starts with a bark. A, singular bark. I think he learned that from Mickey.

After the bark, comes a long drawn out whine. Sometimes in life only a long drawn out whine will do. We've all done that, are doing that, or are seconds away from doing that.

Following the bark, and whine, comes the surprising part. Because he is so talented he goes right from whining to a full blown yodel. Canine yodels are pretty hilarious. Naturally he does this without cracking a smile. Because, truthfully could any of us do this without laughing?? I can hardly write about it without giggling.

The yodel always gets me moving. I admit to wondering if the neighbors think we are pulling his tail or something. None of the other neighborhood dogs make this kind of noise. They are probably thinking, oh God, there goes that dying dog again, someone put him out of his misery.

Except, there is no misery involved. Just a silly pointer boy expressing the full range of his vocal abilities. Woof, whine.....Ahrooo-ahroooo, ahroooo-ooo-oooo.

A note from Sophie

Moving day?? What? I'm moving? Huh? I'm not moving yet? Wait, I'm going, I'm not going, I'm still going, not just today?? ~Sophie

Today was, in one of the plans, Sophie's departure day. The key is "one of the plans". Isn't that just life - plan A, plan B...sometimes even plan C & D. Not to worry, her adoption hasn't fallen through. It's just been postponed for about ten days.

This is what I love about it. Her new Mom wants to be with her in the worst way. So much so that she will delay that pleasure to make the transition easier for Sophie. You see, her forever home is moving from Omaha to Minnesota this weekend. All that commotion would be hard on a pocket pointer with anxiety issues. I know Sophie's gonna crap when she moves. Probably a large hideous crap. To that I say "it's okay Sophie", followed by pass the paper towels and the odor eliminator. Sometimes that is the best, most normal response to change. Crap, then move on.

Her new owner has Sophie's best interest at heart. That makes my heart happy.

Easter Thots

First of all, I thought Easter was in Spring? May I just say it's a good thing the Easter Bunny has a fur coat this morning. At least here, it's a frosty morning. Not exactly seasonal weather, but really what is seasonal?? At least in Nebraska seasonal changes by the hour.

I remember past Easters. Easter dresses, hats (yes, I'm aging myself here), baskets. Easter Ham, Chocolate Bunnies, Easter egg hunts. The obvious is often hard to find, and yes, that applies to colored eggs.

I treasure the memories of getting up early, early morning to hide the eggs for our kids to find. And, I remember hiding one egg under the soft belly of my Labrador Abby. She was kind enough to lay there hiding the treasure without trying to consume it! That was an Easter miracle.

This Easter finds us in transition. I remember "transition" from having babies. It is no piece of cake. It leaves you breathless and wanting to inflict bodily harm on anyone who comes near you. Not serene Easter thoughts for sure. I'm apprehensive about what is ahead, stressed about all that needs to be done, and wishing I had the answers to all the who, what, when, where, and how's on the horizon.

I wish it was a simple as looking for colored eggs in the grass. Maybe it is. Sometimes they are obvious, sometimes they are obscured, sometimes filled with treats and surprises. Sometimes months later the eggs are finally discovered! Looking forward to little surprise like that.

Just Another Example of Normal

Eleven days away from Sophie going to her forever home and she achieves another milestone!

Actually, I think each foster dog of ours signs a guest book and shares their escapades. That way they can see what has been done and what hasn't been done in the name of foster dogs. Read, what damage has been done in the name of foster dogs.

There have been the usual scratches in the wood work, the skirting on the sofa gnawed on, a chair with a hole in the upholstery, chewed leashes, the rockers on the chair sampled. There is the crate that got bent, and many blankets aererated. Sophie read the manual and knew she could not do something so mundane and so, so, done already.

She chose to sample the carpet fibres. Lovely. We were planning to recarpet anyway. But, holy crap Sophie...what were you thinking???

..."well, Momma, you were gone so long today.... Yes, I can hold my pee all day, but what about my creativity and need for activity?? Seriously, I was just supposed to lay there and wait for you. I had things to do, playing to enjoy and carpet to sample. And, frankly, none of the other fosters did carpet. Somebody had too!" ~Sophie

Ahhh, the new normal with Sophie. I just can't be mad at her for it. You have to take the good with the bad, and sometimes the bad reflects just how good it is.

It's All About Me

I've come to the conclusion that dogs go through life with this headset. It's all about me.....surely you've come to visit me.....is that for me?......what about me!! Not to mention....pet me, pet me, pet me......don't forget to feed me!!

How do they do that and be so darned cute at the same time? When company comes they act like they haven't seen a human being in a millennium. When it's dinner time they act like they are starving. When you want them to go out in the rain they act like prima donna's. Me?? Moi???? Go out in the cold? wet? What?? You want me to get off the bed??? Do you know who I am??? Excuse me, that is not your pillow, I just loan it to you.

With Reno commuting, Hank thinks he has it made. Monday through Thursday Hank sleeps with me. Joined at the hip, like Velcro, snug as a bug in a rug. If I get out of bed I return to find him firmly ensconced on my pillow. I'm sure he waits all night for just such an opportunity. And he seizes that moment like there is no tomorrow. On Friday/Saturday/Sun he has to sleep on the sofa or the dog bed. Don't feel bad for him, either way he lives the life of Riley!!

Last night Ms. Sophie slept with us. We felt honored. Life really is all about her....okay, and Mick and Hank. Face it, they are the best. I rotate my life around them. Truthfully, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Prix Fixe

This blog is not about dogs. But, it is about something else totally near and dear to my heart. It's about food, friendship and most importantly my daughter.

She is many things that I envy. She is strong, confident, passionate and oh, so talented. She is studying to be a chef. Heck, she's a damn good chef already. I used to call my Mom for cooking help, now I call my daughter. The roles have changed.

Part of her program includes a Prix Fixe dinner. It is a multi-course menu that she and another student plan, prep and present. The "fixe" part means a set price for the four courses. Now I have to say I hope I'm half the cook she is. Because their dinner was amazing.

Of course, we have both evolved over the years. There was a time she would have preferred to run me over with a Mack truck. Truthfully (at the time) it would have been a blessing if she had. Life molds us, softens us, strengthens us and dishes us up like a Prix Fixe dinner.

We are multiple courses, complex layers, subtle nuances, refreshing, nourishing and engaging. We are also salty, sweet, savory, peppery and smooth. I believe she is one of my favorite dishes, and I love her dearly.

Sophie the....

It used to be Sophie the Scaredy Cat, Sophie the timid, followed immediately by Sophie hides, runs, dodges, races to the door. Don't make me go out, quick let me in. Move, I need to run for cover. The other night wild horses racing through the yard wouldn't have made her come in.

If she had texted me, it would have said "quit callin, hunting bunnies, leave me alone". When I whistled again it would have said "on point, don't bother me". When I clapped and called her name I'm certain she rolled her eye's and said "enough already. I'm hunting here, don't you get it?"

Wow, Sophie the hunter. Birds, squirrels, bunnies you name it she hunts it. Amazing how time will change you. Well, time, some loving and the big Guy upstairs.

Gated Community

Our vegetable garden is a gated community. Mostly because of Hank's propensity to snack on the heirloom tomato's before they are table ready. Not to mention Mick thinking the garden is the most huntable area in the yard.

I noticed yesterday that something has been digging in this little gated area. I think it's Momma Bunny. I like the way she thinks. Close to the produce section, away from the bird dogs, nice sunny lot, semi-safe location. Except...its in an area they dogs run by a thousand times a day. She must have missed the no vacancy sign.

Seriously, Momma Bunny, you have got to be kidding. Of course other years she has built her nest in areas of the yard that the dogs do have access to. It never ends pretty. Maybe this year she thinks she has a running chance. Literally and figuratively.

I'm thinking not. Don't get me wrong....Spring, baby birds and bunnies...it's all good. Hunting dogs and baby birds and bunnies....not so much. I believe I'll post an eviction notice before Momma B gets too settled in. I just hope she can read.....

Fostering on Pause

We are sort of in a holding pattern on fostering. Sophie is in her last month with us. Technically, she's not really a foster, she's just boarding with us. No fosters waiting in the wings, but that can always change. I am always one breath away from succumbing to the charm of another dog. I like it that way.

It probably makes Reno nervous as all get out. Knowing at any time, I could say "honey - there is a dog who needs us". It could be worse, I could say "honey, there is a litter of puppies who needs us". Frankly, I'd be scared he would say yes to that. Honestly, he'd say yes in a heartbeat to that!

We had the challenge of trying to walk two 4 month old English Pointer puppies yesterday who are in foster care with Great Plains Pointer Rescue. Thankfully, we were trying this as a team. Blessedly we were armed with paper towels and poop bags. Patiently we encouraged them. Hysterically we laughed at them as they wrestled/romped/rolled/lunged and peed through walk. And yes, we fell in love with them when they just plopped down on the pavement to rest. Sleeping puppies are the best.

Sometimes life gives us time for a pause. Time to rest, play, relish the moment, prepare for the future. When paws pause - it's even better.

Time Zones

I've finally figured it out. In retrospect it explains everything. Sophie lives in one time zone and we live in another. Her schedule is totally on Eastern Standard Time. Mine is on Central Standard Time.

It would have been helpful to figure this out months ago, or to at least apply that filter to her adoption profile. She always gets up before I want to, and goes to bed before I do. What else could it be?

She rests when I want to play and plays when I want to rest. I wonder if she's gone through life misunderstood because she should have lived on the East coast? Was she an over achiever as a puppy and her litter mates thought she was a nut case? She probably thinks the rest of us have a few screws loose and she's the sane one.

The challenge is she lives with one dog who must be on Mountain time and one who is on Central time. Poor girl, so many issues to deal with. Maybe she is a Bar Harbour girl at heart forced to live in the flatlands of NE. Life can be so cruel....

Maybe when she goes to her forever home next month I need to tell her she's moving back to her home zone. Maybe I need to remind her new owner how exquisitely adorable she is early in the day when she is at her spunkiest. Followed by how precious she is at night (which technically falls from 8pm-5:30am) when she's sleeping. Maybe I'll just let that one play out on it's own.

She's lovable no matter the time. I just need to learn to be more zonally flexible.

Is This Heaven??

How many times have you said......"ohhhhh, that would be heaven"? Once, twice, twenty times, too many to count? Chocolate is heaven, flowers are, dogs, of course go without saying. Long weekends are heaven. Bonus's, girl friends, bargains, good wine, laughter, kids, spouses, successes beyond our wildest dreams. Heaven is at once both enormous and minute.

If you asked Hank the would tell you his lives in heaven. He is not alone and hurting. He is loved, fed, sleeps in great comfort, purrs with content. He is adored and adores those around him. Sophie would say this is heaven too. She doesn't have to be afraid, she can be herself. Or, she can relax enough to figure out what "her self" really is. Mick would say this is heaven, except for having to share the bed and my affection with Hank and Sophie. Either way he knows there is more than enough love to go around and multiple beds to snooze on.

What if this is our heaven?? Well, our heaven on earth, that is. I have to think it is a personal choice. Maybe you can't find a whole lot of heaven in your life right now. Maybe you can find and honor just one tiny speck of it. One little giggle, one tiny moment of thanksgiving, one gift of the heart. Heaven grows from this.

Shopping....grrrrr

I must have been a man in another life time. I hate shopping. Maybe I was sick during every shopping class life ever offered. Perhaps God didn't assign enough shopping mentors to me. If so, is it too late to ask for a miracle?

My mission is to find window coverings for two rooms in the house. Ughhhhh!! It shouldn't be so hard. Women should know this stuff. I should enjoy the process. May I just say....ummmm, not. I do not, I could not, I did not, I should not. I sound like Dr. Seuss, but sorely lack his creative mentality when it comes to shopping.

Now, you and I both know if I was shopping for a dog, diamonds, or flowers for the yard I would be embracing the opportunity. Frankly, I think the dogs could do a better job shopping for home accessories. Maybe I'll just send them in and see what they drag back.

Yes, I realize there is professional help available for this problem. Someday, when my money tree is ready for picking I'll go that route. Until then I'll just labor my way through the process and hope I give birth to good choices. It's a painful, but I'll get through it.