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.