It's that time again. Time to put the holiday decorations away, to look back on the year, to look forward, and yes, time to throw another log on the fire.
In dog days it's been a terrific year. Snowflake, Layla, Jess, Bailey and now, Buck...all found forever homes. That's probably the most fosters we've had in one year. About last year this time Mick got sick and we thought we were going to lose him. He's still kicking it for which I give thanks every day. Twelve years ago he got me started with pointers and what a case of the zoomies it's been every since. We did lose Mr. Hanky this year. But his loss is tempered by the joy of loving him for three years. Everyone should have Mr. Hanky at least once in their life.
Pointer Rescue Organization led me to Mick and from there it just got better and better. Now we're active with Great Plains Pointer Rescue and yup, it just get's better and better. I could probably chalk up all the dogs that have come into my life from these groups as a result of getting divorced many years ago. Not directly, but none-the-less that life change set a new course in my life.
In a way I was pushed into a new life. Suffice it to say I've blossomed. And laughed, and loved, and opened my heart to so many new things. So many new dogs. Since it was not humanly possible to own them all at once, fostering is the next best thing.
So as this year winds down, and a new one is on the horizon I give thanks. For the doggies. For the challenges, for the time to say yes, the time to say no. The time to throw another log on the fire and just enjoy where life has taken me. If you think I've gone to the dogs, you would be totally correct. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Life with dogs. A little humor, a dash of play, a seed of faith, and of course, some dog fur.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Sunday, December 23, 2012
The Stockings Were Hung...
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care....in a world that I think exists out there somewhere.
In our little world, however, it's still a scramble and the house it is completely in shambles. Yes, how fun it can be to start with a rhyme til you realize its not so sublime.
We celebrate Christmas and furry friends you see, without them I tell you I wouldn't be me.
It's been quite a year with fosters out here, each one so different but always a dear.
On Snowflake, on Layla, on Bailey, Jess and Buck, you'd think with these names I may get so stuck. One out of five just with us did stay, we could not let Miss Layla find a home far away.
No Santa hats or antlers for these pups you see, just a home full of loving from Reno and me.
A big yard to play in, to romp and run, our life in the country, son of a gun. We blessed and we're happy, with these dogs we do love. Blessings untold from someone above.
So there is my poem, silly and quite trite, but we wish you a Merry Christmas and to all a good night.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Comfort
For me, the dogs bring laughter, entertainment, compassion and comfort. After the massacre at Sandy Hook, not even the dogs can offer sufficient comfort. There is a gut wrenching agony at the injustice of it all.
And yet, the dogs don't know the depths of our sorrow or the events that break our hearts. They know only to live in the moment. Which, is probably a wise goal for us as well.
Some of our moments are those of sorrow, some despair, some exquisite joy, some the day in and day out routine of life. Until something happens to shake our foundation, to reveal another side of life. Then we are called to weep with those who mourn, to celebrate when life is good, to trust in the process when we cannot clearly see the path.
So we pause....in solidarity. Holding close those we love, the two footed and the four footed loves of our life. And we try to go on, in the moment as best we can.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Take What You Get - Be Happy With It
At Christmas, and other times it is a mad rush to get things. Things, stuff, possessions, items, doodads, gifts, gadgets, accessories....you get my drift. We are so driven we forget how blessed we are.
At dinner tonight we sat down to a pleasant meal. Not my best effort, but it fell under the quick & easy category and we wouldn't go hungry. Thank you Trader Joe's. Someone looked at the fixings and said where is the _______ and where is the ________? Someone suggested they take their happy little self out of the kitchen, come back and exclaim what a delicious dinner we were having. And we were.
Think about the dogs. They (mostly) get the same food day in and day out. They are ecstatic when I feed them. Omg, omg, omg she's gonna feed us. Omg, omg, omg I'm so excited I'm drooling. And then there is Buck who helps himself to things on the counter and thinks Omg, Omg, Omg manna from the heavens is just left on the counter for me!!
Sometimes it's prime rib, some times it's kibble. Sometimes isn't all the time. Sometimes you just have to take what you get and be happy with it.
At dinner tonight we sat down to a pleasant meal. Not my best effort, but it fell under the quick & easy category and we wouldn't go hungry. Thank you Trader Joe's. Someone looked at the fixings and said where is the _______ and where is the ________? Someone suggested they take their happy little self out of the kitchen, come back and exclaim what a delicious dinner we were having. And we were.
Think about the dogs. They (mostly) get the same food day in and day out. They are ecstatic when I feed them. Omg, omg, omg she's gonna feed us. Omg, omg, omg I'm so excited I'm drooling. And then there is Buck who helps himself to things on the counter and thinks Omg, Omg, Omg manna from the heavens is just left on the counter for me!!
Sometimes it's prime rib, some times it's kibble. Sometimes isn't all the time. Sometimes you just have to take what you get and be happy with it.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Documentation
I should have documented all the shenanigans over the years. A log book of some sort listing each pup who shared our lives and the ways they touched our heart. Along with a photo of the suspect involved.
There would be Abby, my labrador, who ate the $200 cash car insurance payment off the kitchen table. Evidence was found on that, but it was beyond repair. She also chewed threw more leashes than I could count. There was Fancy, my daughters dobe. She had a thing for shoes. God bless her she never ate them. But would take one and bury it in her blanket.
Several had a thing for lingerie. Mickey "took" a bra from laundry basket and raced around the back yard with it around his neck. But then he also dragged my iron down the steps where it landed on the ceramic tile floor. Scared the beejeezus out of him! Pete snatch a hot pink Victoria's Secret bra and was found on the sofa savoring it.
Under the category of blatant opportunism we have Mickey who snagged the piece of fruit cake off the coffee table. He could just taste the holiday spirit that day! Prince Kobe sampled Reno's single malt scotch and somehow lived to tell about it. He also surfed a cucumber off the counter and proceeded to consume it. He was a dog with a diverse palate.
Jessie helped herself to some chicken and a pork chop. Screw the cucumbers she was going for the good stuff. And then there is Buck. He sets the record for leaving a debris path while counter surfing. He helped himself to a box of crackers, 1/2 a loaf of bread, part of a stick of butter. He lacked the motor skills to take the butter dish lid off, so he knocked it to the ground shattering it. Egads. He did have an accomplice. But we know it was his long legs that got him to the goodies.
Now, in our defense. Ummm....well...we do have one. Just not sure it would hold water, bread, crackers or some really good scotch. Thankfully I can report little, or no blood shed during these events. We have gotten smarter, but the evidence just posted doesn't exactly show that. All the proof I really have is that the dogs are really smart and we do our best to keep up with them. And it's always, always interesting in our doggy dog world.
There would be Abby, my labrador, who ate the $200 cash car insurance payment off the kitchen table. Evidence was found on that, but it was beyond repair. She also chewed threw more leashes than I could count. There was Fancy, my daughters dobe. She had a thing for shoes. God bless her she never ate them. But would take one and bury it in her blanket.
Several had a thing for lingerie. Mickey "took" a bra from laundry basket and raced around the back yard with it around his neck. But then he also dragged my iron down the steps where it landed on the ceramic tile floor. Scared the beejeezus out of him! Pete snatch a hot pink Victoria's Secret bra and was found on the sofa savoring it.
Under the category of blatant opportunism we have Mickey who snagged the piece of fruit cake off the coffee table. He could just taste the holiday spirit that day! Prince Kobe sampled Reno's single malt scotch and somehow lived to tell about it. He also surfed a cucumber off the counter and proceeded to consume it. He was a dog with a diverse palate.
Jessie helped herself to some chicken and a pork chop. Screw the cucumbers she was going for the good stuff. And then there is Buck. He sets the record for leaving a debris path while counter surfing. He helped himself to a box of crackers, 1/2 a loaf of bread, part of a stick of butter. He lacked the motor skills to take the butter dish lid off, so he knocked it to the ground shattering it. Egads. He did have an accomplice. But we know it was his long legs that got him to the goodies.
Now, in our defense. Ummm....well...we do have one. Just not sure it would hold water, bread, crackers or some really good scotch. Thankfully I can report little, or no blood shed during these events. We have gotten smarter, but the evidence just posted doesn't exactly show that. All the proof I really have is that the dogs are really smart and we do our best to keep up with them. And it's always, always interesting in our doggy dog world.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
New Kid On The Block
The NKOTB has arrived, or should I say the new paws on the block have arrived. At least temporarily. He doesn't look anything like the others. Partly because he's not the same. In fact we could play the which one of these doesn't match game with Buck.
Buck is a pointador. Half labrador, half english pointer. Totally adorable. Funny, after all these years, to have a big 'ol blocky lab head looking at me again. Makes me think of my dear Abby who long ago crossed the bridge.
This is what we've learned so far. It's not a stretch for him to get his head on the top of the table. Counter surfing is a varsity sport, and water bottles are fun not frightening! He's our first experience with a dog who likes to burrow under the blankets and is a first class cuddler. He's prone to howling and fussing like crazy when you leave him, although he goes into his crate like a dream. I like to think he quiets down shortly after we leave. Ya, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Thankfully the neighbors are 1/2 a mile away. They may be grateful we're 1/2 a mile away. I love the sound of him running in the back yard. Sounds like a horse thundering towards you. Always wanted a horse in the back yard.
He was one of our fosters from two years ago, so when we heard he was in need it was natural to help him. Who would have known he'd have grow so much!
Sometimes life doubles back on you like this. You send someone off into the world and if you are lucky they come back for another round of loving. They have changed, you have changed, but the love hasn't.
Buck is a pointador. Half labrador, half english pointer. Totally adorable. Funny, after all these years, to have a big 'ol blocky lab head looking at me again. Makes me think of my dear Abby who long ago crossed the bridge.
This is what we've learned so far. It's not a stretch for him to get his head on the top of the table. Counter surfing is a varsity sport, and water bottles are fun not frightening! He's our first experience with a dog who likes to burrow under the blankets and is a first class cuddler. He's prone to howling and fussing like crazy when you leave him, although he goes into his crate like a dream. I like to think he quiets down shortly after we leave. Ya, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Thankfully the neighbors are 1/2 a mile away. They may be grateful we're 1/2 a mile away. I love the sound of him running in the back yard. Sounds like a horse thundering towards you. Always wanted a horse in the back yard.
He was one of our fosters from two years ago, so when we heard he was in need it was natural to help him. Who would have known he'd have grow so much!
Sometimes life doubles back on you like this. You send someone off into the world and if you are lucky they come back for another round of loving. They have changed, you have changed, but the love hasn't.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Saying Goodbye Saying Hello
I suspect saying goodbye is always harder than saying hello. May not always be the case, but I'm guessing so. For Reno, it's always a guess for him in wondering how long we will remain empty nester's in the fostering business. I'm always ready to say hello before he is, but it never takes him long to catch up.
Not long ago we said goodbye to Jessie. Soon we'll be saying hello to Buck. Funny thing is this will be our second go around of hello/goodbye with Buck. We had the privilege of fostering him two years ago when he was just a puppy. He's coming back into rescue and while we won't be actively fostering him, we will be a way station on his journey to a foster home.
There are mixed feelings involved. We're delighted to see him, but sad life issues force him to come back. We grieve with the family who is giving him up, and pray for a family to be blessed with a new furry friend. In between those places we nurture and care for him.
Hello and goodbye, in many ways shapes and forms. It's part of life, part of loving.
Not long ago we said goodbye to Jessie. Soon we'll be saying hello to Buck. Funny thing is this will be our second go around of hello/goodbye with Buck. We had the privilege of fostering him two years ago when he was just a puppy. He's coming back into rescue and while we won't be actively fostering him, we will be a way station on his journey to a foster home.
There are mixed feelings involved. We're delighted to see him, but sad life issues force him to come back. We grieve with the family who is giving him up, and pray for a family to be blessed with a new furry friend. In between those places we nurture and care for him.
Hello and goodbye, in many ways shapes and forms. It's part of life, part of loving.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Casting Our Vote
It's election day, I think you may have heard about it. Mick and Layla have some votes they'd like to place as well. So in their honor I respectfully submit these votes...
We vote for more forever homes and less dogs lost and dying in shelters. We vote for an increase of treats and raw meaty bones for dogs everywhere. We vote for warm beds, food and shelter. And Kongs and Wubba's, don't forget them.
We vote for increased hours of sunlight, because day light savings time puts a cramp in time to play fetch after work. We vote for equal opportunities to blog because our HuMom always hogs the computer. Blankets, we want more blankets too.
We want more chances to catch the squirrels and less fussing when we roll in putrid stuff. It doesn't stink to us. Get over it. We want meatballs to rain from the sky.
Cast our vote for the elimination of dogs chained and abandoned. And for the love of dog teach the stupid Humans how to be responsible dog owners. We vote for gentle hands and soft kisses. We vote to be loved softly across the bridge when the time comes.
We vote for election ballots to be saturated with chicken gravy and pressed into bones for dogs everywhere to enjoy.
We vote for our Humom to win the Nobel Peace Prize for being the worlds best Mom. Okay, so maybe we are biased. We'd stuff the ballot box on that one. Which of course means, you guessed it, more gravy saturated dog bones for us.
Sign us - registered barkers and proxy voters. Mick E. Democrat and Layla Repub Lican
We vote for more forever homes and less dogs lost and dying in shelters. We vote for an increase of treats and raw meaty bones for dogs everywhere. We vote for warm beds, food and shelter. And Kongs and Wubba's, don't forget them.
We vote for increased hours of sunlight, because day light savings time puts a cramp in time to play fetch after work. We vote for equal opportunities to blog because our HuMom always hogs the computer. Blankets, we want more blankets too.
We want more chances to catch the squirrels and less fussing when we roll in putrid stuff. It doesn't stink to us. Get over it. We want meatballs to rain from the sky.
Cast our vote for the elimination of dogs chained and abandoned. And for the love of dog teach the stupid Humans how to be responsible dog owners. We vote for gentle hands and soft kisses. We vote to be loved softly across the bridge when the time comes.
We vote for election ballots to be saturated with chicken gravy and pressed into bones for dogs everywhere to enjoy.
We vote for our Humom to win the Nobel Peace Prize for being the worlds best Mom. Okay, so maybe we are biased. We'd stuff the ballot box on that one. Which of course means, you guessed it, more gravy saturated dog bones for us.
Sign us - registered barkers and proxy voters. Mick E. Democrat and Layla Repub Lican
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Simple Pleasures and Simply Outrageous
Under the category of simple pleasures....we went for a stroll last night. I think if you amble along, it's a stroll. If you truck along, its a power walk, and if you stride competitively, it's a race of some sort. We strolled. Not far, just to the end of the lane. Because if it's in the 60's at the end of October and the Hunter's Moon is shining on you...you just ought to enjoy it. I hope we never cease to be in awe of the rising moon.
So hand-in-hand we strolled down the lane, like a couple of old married folk. Perhaps we are just that. And when we got to the end of the lane we danced. Like teenagers. Perhaps we haven't lost that. By the light of the moon, because it felt right. Completely a simple pleasure.
On the other end of the spectrum...Mick would like to comment on the simply outrageous. Mind boggling, utterly senseless, simply unfathomable. And that would be that we bought canned tuna that is liquid free. No tuna juice. None, zip, nada. No tuna juice??? How can that be?? What is a dog to do?? Tuna juice is one of the simple pleasures Mick enjoys. Whenever we serve canned tuna he gets the juice. No juice, unthinkable!! No juice?? No way!
So there it is, the good, the bad and the juice free. Something to cherish and something to challenge. Something dog gone delightful and something to make a dog howl in dismay. Lucky us....poor Mick.
So hand-in-hand we strolled down the lane, like a couple of old married folk. Perhaps we are just that. And when we got to the end of the lane we danced. Like teenagers. Perhaps we haven't lost that. By the light of the moon, because it felt right. Completely a simple pleasure.
On the other end of the spectrum...Mick would like to comment on the simply outrageous. Mind boggling, utterly senseless, simply unfathomable. And that would be that we bought canned tuna that is liquid free. No tuna juice. None, zip, nada. No tuna juice??? How can that be?? What is a dog to do?? Tuna juice is one of the simple pleasures Mick enjoys. Whenever we serve canned tuna he gets the juice. No juice, unthinkable!! No juice?? No way!
So there it is, the good, the bad and the juice free. Something to cherish and something to challenge. Something dog gone delightful and something to make a dog howl in dismay. Lucky us....poor Mick.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Bliss and Boundaries
I took Mick for a walk today. Sometimes rank has it's privileges. I figure maybe I could keep up with the senior dog. So my dreams aren't exactly reality.
It is a new concept for a city girl to go for a walk and not have a block to walk around. I used to pick my walks by which gardens I like to walk by. Today I wasn't sure we had a destination at all. We aimed for the mail box at the end of the lane, and then for the bridge down the road and then we walked the perimeter of a 3 acre corn field.
It is an odd feeling to just let your dog run loose. Even though Mick had a field collar on and responds to tone, it was still an act of faith for me. All 11+ years I've owned Mick my goal has been to keep him safe, and safely contained. Heck, I'm not even sure I'm safe out wandering the countryside, much less him. This is sort of pathetic for someone who owns hunting dogs.
My kids would say I'm a perpetual worrier. Sometimes I can't argue it. The whole gamut of 'what if's' went through my head. What if he takes off and doesn't come back. What if he falls into the river, cause I'm pretty sure I'm not venturing in after him. What if I fall and can't get up? What if a car comes down the road. I didn't need to worry about that one.
So we went and we came back safely. Even sat on our little bench. It was a window well frame at my Mom's house years ago. We laughed at the insanity of dragging it along on our move. But, it's strategically placed by a nice view of the river. It's the beginning of a little garden area to pause by on the way up the lane.
So, Mick's tired from his adventure, and I'm happy. We tested some boundaries and found some bliss.
It is a new concept for a city girl to go for a walk and not have a block to walk around. I used to pick my walks by which gardens I like to walk by. Today I wasn't sure we had a destination at all. We aimed for the mail box at the end of the lane, and then for the bridge down the road and then we walked the perimeter of a 3 acre corn field.
It is an odd feeling to just let your dog run loose. Even though Mick had a field collar on and responds to tone, it was still an act of faith for me. All 11+ years I've owned Mick my goal has been to keep him safe, and safely contained. Heck, I'm not even sure I'm safe out wandering the countryside, much less him. This is sort of pathetic for someone who owns hunting dogs.
My kids would say I'm a perpetual worrier. Sometimes I can't argue it. The whole gamut of 'what if's' went through my head. What if he takes off and doesn't come back. What if he falls into the river, cause I'm pretty sure I'm not venturing in after him. What if I fall and can't get up? What if a car comes down the road. I didn't need to worry about that one.
So we went and we came back safely. Even sat on our little bench. It was a window well frame at my Mom's house years ago. We laughed at the insanity of dragging it along on our move. But, it's strategically placed by a nice view of the river. It's the beginning of a little garden area to pause by on the way up the lane.
So, Mick's tired from his adventure, and I'm happy. We tested some boundaries and found some bliss.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Big-Little-Forever
Houses and dogs. They are on my mind. Little, big, foster, forever. Little homes are a lot like little dogs. They just don't know their size. Big homes don't necessarily hold more love than little homes. It's not the size of the house that matters, it's the size of the love within.
We're celebrating because our foster dog Jessie found her forever home. She has a canine playmate and two little girls, plus she'll get to hunt. Layla's nose is out of joint because her playmate is gone. Mick's nose is out of joint because Layla's playmate is gone. No more peaceful naps for this old boy.
If I'm counting right, Jessie is foster #14 for us. I think we are getting the hang of this stuff. Thankfully, we've had more fosters than houses. Good thing because moving is such a bitch.
Such a privilege to be the half-way house for these doggies. Such a blessing to have that extra love to share with them, and the people who adopt them. Of all of them, Pete's family and Sophie's Mom could win awards for updates and photo's. It doesn't mean the others aren't well loved, I just don't hear about it.
There was a time in my life where home had no dogs. Thank God I woke up out of that dream. Home isn't home without them now. Forever homes, foster dogs, forever dogs. It's all about the love.
We're celebrating because our foster dog Jessie found her forever home. She has a canine playmate and two little girls, plus she'll get to hunt. Layla's nose is out of joint because her playmate is gone. Mick's nose is out of joint because Layla's playmate is gone. No more peaceful naps for this old boy.
If I'm counting right, Jessie is foster #14 for us. I think we are getting the hang of this stuff. Thankfully, we've had more fosters than houses. Good thing because moving is such a bitch.
Such a privilege to be the half-way house for these doggies. Such a blessing to have that extra love to share with them, and the people who adopt them. Of all of them, Pete's family and Sophie's Mom could win awards for updates and photo's. It doesn't mean the others aren't well loved, I just don't hear about it.
There was a time in my life where home had no dogs. Thank God I woke up out of that dream. Home isn't home without them now. Forever homes, foster dogs, forever dogs. It's all about the love.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
The Nose Knows
If there is one thing I have learned with pointers is never underestimate the power of the nose. Never. And there are very few times I will say "never" in association with a dog of mine.
The nose rules. It's king. It's precise and finely honed. Here is a good example.
Mick and Layla are ruthlessly pursuing a smell. Ruthlessly. Behind the lawn mower. Or maybe between the logs stacked by the lawn mower. Something is there. They reach, stretch, nose, poke, dig, press, prod. It's there they tell me.
So to end their agony. We move the lawn mower. Nothing. Move the logs. Nothing. Remove the bag off the mower. Nothing. Reno says it's gone guys, give it up. They look at us aghast! What??? Give up the hunt?? So we turn the mower over....nothing. They insist that all three brain cells in each head are firing in perfect harmony.
So Reno starts the mower. More to chase the dogs off than anything. A couple clean revolutions and there it is. A tell tale thunk. A spray of blood shoots over Reno's leg and the mouse fly's out the side. I can only imagine the mouse hanging on for dear life. First the threat of the nose and the battle of the blade. Sad as it is for the mouse, it proved once again, that yes, the nose knows.
The nose rules. It's king. It's precise and finely honed. Here is a good example.
Mick and Layla are ruthlessly pursuing a smell. Ruthlessly. Behind the lawn mower. Or maybe between the logs stacked by the lawn mower. Something is there. They reach, stretch, nose, poke, dig, press, prod. It's there they tell me.
So to end their agony. We move the lawn mower. Nothing. Move the logs. Nothing. Remove the bag off the mower. Nothing. Reno says it's gone guys, give it up. They look at us aghast! What??? Give up the hunt?? So we turn the mower over....nothing. They insist that all three brain cells in each head are firing in perfect harmony.
So Reno starts the mower. More to chase the dogs off than anything. A couple clean revolutions and there it is. A tell tale thunk. A spray of blood shoots over Reno's leg and the mouse fly's out the side. I can only imagine the mouse hanging on for dear life. First the threat of the nose and the battle of the blade. Sad as it is for the mouse, it proved once again, that yes, the nose knows.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Hunting, Digging, Planting
It doesn't take much to amuse the Pointers. They were born to hunt and hunt they will. Birds, rodents, toads, bee's. The thrill of the chase is all that matters. Jessie is hunting for a forever home, Mick was toad hunting, and Layla was bee hunting. Two out of three were successful. Several of them were mouse hunting, but the only mouse found was a little skeleton of one Reno found in the garage. He showed me how cute it was....ewwwwww.
I spend the weekend digging. Digging through boxes. Unpacking takes a long time. Digging in the garden. Digging up ornamental grasses. Uggghhhh....that takes a whole lot of elbow grease. Frankly, my elbows are exhausted.
I did finally plant as well. My Mom's hostas, and my iris. Phfeww, those poor plants have been in plastic buckets since last April. What a relief to have them in the ground. In the course of digging I found a bunch of bulbs in the mist of the grasses. Score!!! Freebee's. Gardeners love freebee's. It was my lucky day.
I rather dig the beauty of it. We have a link in that garden. Mom's house, my house and gifts from the previous owner of this house. You don't have to hunt much to find the grace here. It's planted everywhere.
I spend the weekend digging. Digging through boxes. Unpacking takes a long time. Digging in the garden. Digging up ornamental grasses. Uggghhhh....that takes a whole lot of elbow grease. Frankly, my elbows are exhausted.
I did finally plant as well. My Mom's hostas, and my iris. Phfeww, those poor plants have been in plastic buckets since last April. What a relief to have them in the ground. In the course of digging I found a bunch of bulbs in the mist of the grasses. Score!!! Freebee's. Gardeners love freebee's. It was my lucky day.
I rather dig the beauty of it. We have a link in that garden. Mom's house, my house and gifts from the previous owner of this house. You don't have to hunt much to find the grace here. It's planted everywhere.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Why Blog??
A friend is doing research on blogging. Why we do it, how we plan it, what we get out of it.
Hmmmmm....good questions. I blog as an outlet for the voices in my head. Go ahead and laugh, but it's true. I blog because I figure whatever I celebrate, struggle with, experience someone else might too. It helps me realize I am not alone. Perhaps it does the same for you.
I wish I could say I always have a plan for my blogs. Ummm, I think I go through life in the unplanned mode. Sometimes I have a little thought that stimulates the writing. Sometimes I have brilliant ideas for blogs, but usually I am driving on the highway when that happens. I tell myself...self, you need to remember this and write about it. Hahahahaaa...like that ever happens.
Mostly the dogs are the impetus for the writing. Dogs have taken me places I never could have imagined in my wildest dreams. I owe a lot to the dogs. Maybe we should line them up side by side and ask their opinion? No doubt the term crazy dog lady would be a recurring theme. Or was that crazy blog lady.
Of course I could say "I blog therefore I am". That would be a philosophical stretch though. I do know I dog, therefore I am. I blog, I dog, I blab, I ramble on. It is just me reaching out to you. It's what I do.
Hmmmmm....good questions. I blog as an outlet for the voices in my head. Go ahead and laugh, but it's true. I blog because I figure whatever I celebrate, struggle with, experience someone else might too. It helps me realize I am not alone. Perhaps it does the same for you.
I wish I could say I always have a plan for my blogs. Ummm, I think I go through life in the unplanned mode. Sometimes I have a little thought that stimulates the writing. Sometimes I have brilliant ideas for blogs, but usually I am driving on the highway when that happens. I tell myself...self, you need to remember this and write about it. Hahahahaaa...like that ever happens.
Mostly the dogs are the impetus for the writing. Dogs have taken me places I never could have imagined in my wildest dreams. I owe a lot to the dogs. Maybe we should line them up side by side and ask their opinion? No doubt the term crazy dog lady would be a recurring theme. Or was that crazy blog lady.
Of course I could say "I blog therefore I am". That would be a philosophical stretch though. I do know I dog, therefore I am. I blog, I dog, I blab, I ramble on. It is just me reaching out to you. It's what I do.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Home Sweet Home
We've arrived. Landed, parked, rolled up, dragged in, unloaded (not unpacked). Will probably need to think up a name for this place we call home.
But that is another whole blog.
The pups think we're living in the middle of a dog park. It took six dogs to get us moved in. Mickey, Layla, Jessie, Decoy, Hadley and Hazel have all christened the place. Only one, Jessie, aka Fatty Boomba has jumped the fence. There had to be one didn't there?
We, and our moving help will testify to this, have too much crap. Should have realized this while packing up. Definitely realizing it while unpacking. Our help saved our butts I can tell you that. You have to love people who will drive hours to help you haul your stuff (aka crap, shit, treasures).
We have all we need here though. Room to garden, to relax, to run (at least the dogs do). Room to listen to the quiet. And a house full of love. Last night, as we lay our weary bones down in bed, we paused. We prayed in thanksgiving for the journey here and the blessings it holds.
So when time permits, come and see us. Bring the dogs, the kids, bring some hugs. Help us celebrate home sweet home.
But that is another whole blog.
The pups think we're living in the middle of a dog park. It took six dogs to get us moved in. Mickey, Layla, Jessie, Decoy, Hadley and Hazel have all christened the place. Only one, Jessie, aka Fatty Boomba has jumped the fence. There had to be one didn't there?
We, and our moving help will testify to this, have too much crap. Should have realized this while packing up. Definitely realizing it while unpacking. Our help saved our butts I can tell you that. You have to love people who will drive hours to help you haul your stuff (aka crap, shit, treasures).
We have all we need here though. Room to garden, to relax, to run (at least the dogs do). Room to listen to the quiet. And a house full of love. Last night, as we lay our weary bones down in bed, we paused. We prayed in thanksgiving for the journey here and the blessings it holds.
So when time permits, come and see us. Bring the dogs, the kids, bring some hugs. Help us celebrate home sweet home.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Culling the Herd
Dear House, Pantry, Closet, Drawer, Cabinet, Fridge, Garage, Garden, and Shed. I'm culling the herd. Tomorrow begins the big move and some of you will not be going along.
I know we have history. I know there are little bits and pieces that could be used up. Some of you have been mixed with other like things in different boxes than you came in. Get over it. It's not the outside that is important, it's what's inside that counts.
You might think I'm being ruthless. And you'd be right. Dibs and dabs, pieces and what not. Good luck in your new life. I hear the land fill is culturally diverse.
Some memories are not even going. It's time to put them to rest, so we can embrace the new memories we'll be making.
The important stuff....the dogs, the wine, the treasures we own will be packed into a big truck once again. Seems like just a year ago we did this, oh wait, we did.
This little rental fostered us for a year, so to speak. Now we have a forever home. At least until life leads us in another direction. So for now, we'll let go of some things. And hold tight to the ones that matter. Yes, Layla, Mick and foster dog Jessie. You get to go too.
I know we have history. I know there are little bits and pieces that could be used up. Some of you have been mixed with other like things in different boxes than you came in. Get over it. It's not the outside that is important, it's what's inside that counts.
You might think I'm being ruthless. And you'd be right. Dibs and dabs, pieces and what not. Good luck in your new life. I hear the land fill is culturally diverse.
Some memories are not even going. It's time to put them to rest, so we can embrace the new memories we'll be making.
The important stuff....the dogs, the wine, the treasures we own will be packed into a big truck once again. Seems like just a year ago we did this, oh wait, we did.
This little rental fostered us for a year, so to speak. Now we have a forever home. At least until life leads us in another direction. So for now, we'll let go of some things. And hold tight to the ones that matter. Yes, Layla, Mick and foster dog Jessie. You get to go too.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Dog Park Preview
Mick and Layla got to visit our new back yard. The are referring to it as The Dog Park. They think they have died and gone to heaven.
Finally, a yard worthy of their exercise needs. Tree's, shrubs, acres, squirrels, a deck to crawl under (if your name is Layla). Just wait until they see deer or turkeys. You will probably hear the racket from there.
We surmise Layla won't want to ever come in. She much prefers the out doors to the in doors. Mick is accustomed to the master bed, but he ran in the yard like there was no tomorrow. You gotta love an old dog running for all he's worth, nose to the ground, peeing on everything, hunting for anything and everything. Foster dog, Jessie, hasn't been to The Park yet, but she has heard the stories about it. It's huge, it's awesome, there have been other dogs there before. It's smells amazing, you can pee and pee and pee.
I'm excited for the dogs and for me. My take is I can garden and garden and garden some more there. I have a list of things the yard needs, besides dogs, of course. Need to add a few more trees, iris, daffodils, perennial hisbiscus, lily of the valley. Roses, don't forget the roses, clematis. Every year I'll add another clematis just like I've always done. The hostas from my Mom's yard that have been planted in buckets since last April. The rhubarb from my neighbor Ralph. That plant originated in Maryland many many moons ago.
It will be a park for dogs, and a garden for me. And because I'm not stupid I'll plant carefully, so the paws don't try to transplant things for me. That must be why God created fences. Of course, they will get into a few things, but such is life. Such is gardening. Planting, growing, transplanting...blooming in new ways and places.
Finally, a yard worthy of their exercise needs. Tree's, shrubs, acres, squirrels, a deck to crawl under (if your name is Layla). Just wait until they see deer or turkeys. You will probably hear the racket from there.
We surmise Layla won't want to ever come in. She much prefers the out doors to the in doors. Mick is accustomed to the master bed, but he ran in the yard like there was no tomorrow. You gotta love an old dog running for all he's worth, nose to the ground, peeing on everything, hunting for anything and everything. Foster dog, Jessie, hasn't been to The Park yet, but she has heard the stories about it. It's huge, it's awesome, there have been other dogs there before. It's smells amazing, you can pee and pee and pee.
I'm excited for the dogs and for me. My take is I can garden and garden and garden some more there. I have a list of things the yard needs, besides dogs, of course. Need to add a few more trees, iris, daffodils, perennial hisbiscus, lily of the valley. Roses, don't forget the roses, clematis. Every year I'll add another clematis just like I've always done. The hostas from my Mom's yard that have been planted in buckets since last April. The rhubarb from my neighbor Ralph. That plant originated in Maryland many many moons ago.
It will be a park for dogs, and a garden for me. And because I'm not stupid I'll plant carefully, so the paws don't try to transplant things for me. That must be why God created fences. Of course, they will get into a few things, but such is life. Such is gardening. Planting, growing, transplanting...blooming in new ways and places.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
De-Light of our Life
You know the couple who has raised their children and finally get close to the empty nest stage and turn up pregnant? Let me stop the thoughts flying through your collective brains and say - no, this is not a birth announcement. But you know them, maybe you were those people. The ones who swore they were done with babies and end up with one more.
They really didn't want another baby, they were too old, too done with raising kids, over it, completely and totally. And yet, when the new baby arrives they find it to be the light of their lives.
Well, in doggy terms, that is what Layla is to us. De-Light of our life due to her silly wiggle butt ways. Hank is channeling his pure and joyful being through her and taught her to poke me with her nose. And Pete, liver treats, OMG, liver treats channels his happy attitude as well. Mick tried to channel dignity and reserve to her, but it was a lost cause. What she lacks in dignity and reserve, she makes up in enthusiasm and excitement. Kobe is probably just happy he missed out on the commotion she creates. On a daily basis, I might add.
Funny how good things come into our life this way. Like gangbusters they roll in and bring us more than we could ever hope for. I hope you have your own "Layla" to enchant, delight and keep things from ever being dull around you.
They really didn't want another baby, they were too old, too done with raising kids, over it, completely and totally. And yet, when the new baby arrives they find it to be the light of their lives.
Well, in doggy terms, that is what Layla is to us. De-Light of our life due to her silly wiggle butt ways. Hank is channeling his pure and joyful being through her and taught her to poke me with her nose. And Pete, liver treats, OMG, liver treats channels his happy attitude as well. Mick tried to channel dignity and reserve to her, but it was a lost cause. What she lacks in dignity and reserve, she makes up in enthusiasm and excitement. Kobe is probably just happy he missed out on the commotion she creates. On a daily basis, I might add.
Funny how good things come into our life this way. Like gangbusters they roll in and bring us more than we could ever hope for. I hope you have your own "Layla" to enchant, delight and keep things from ever being dull around you.
Monday, September 3, 2012
Things To Be Grateful For
So many things to be grateful for!
Surprise birthday visits from your kids. Talk about making this Momma happy! Especially valuable for my first birthday away from home. Saved Reno from sad water works. He was as grateful as I was happy.
The generosity of strangers. Found a lovely couple associated with the Grand Island Kennel Club who helped us hunt test our foster dog Jessie. Had a fun evening in the field watching them work with Jess and seeing her in a whole new way. We did this with another foster in Omaha, he wouldn't have been birdy if a pheasant flew into him. Jess was another story. She's been hunted before and has the drive. There is a little pigeon in birdy heaven who gave her all for Jess. Now we can find her a home with someone who hunts. So thanks little birdy for your contribution.
Then the icing on the birthday cake was time with Reno's daughter, hubby and their two sets of paws. It was a twenty paw weekend. We divided them up into the little girls, Hadley and Hazel, the big girls, Layla and Jessie, and Mick. He stayed out of the fray as best as he could. Mind you, the little girls took the big girls right to school. Fun to watch that happen. Still laughing at Hazel, who arrived all clean, white and pretty. She's a Westie-Poo puppy. She left a filthy mess. Proof she had a good time in the yard with the big girls.
Hadley was more dignified during her visit. Although she did climb on to the top of the coffee table and the crate. Dignified does not eliminate goat-like tendencies.
It was a dog gone, all around good weekend. One for the books, one for counting blessings, loving family and our four footed friends.
Surprise birthday visits from your kids. Talk about making this Momma happy! Especially valuable for my first birthday away from home. Saved Reno from sad water works. He was as grateful as I was happy.
The generosity of strangers. Found a lovely couple associated with the Grand Island Kennel Club who helped us hunt test our foster dog Jessie. Had a fun evening in the field watching them work with Jess and seeing her in a whole new way. We did this with another foster in Omaha, he wouldn't have been birdy if a pheasant flew into him. Jess was another story. She's been hunted before and has the drive. There is a little pigeon in birdy heaven who gave her all for Jess. Now we can find her a home with someone who hunts. So thanks little birdy for your contribution.
Then the icing on the birthday cake was time with Reno's daughter, hubby and their two sets of paws. It was a twenty paw weekend. We divided them up into the little girls, Hadley and Hazel, the big girls, Layla and Jessie, and Mick. He stayed out of the fray as best as he could. Mind you, the little girls took the big girls right to school. Fun to watch that happen. Still laughing at Hazel, who arrived all clean, white and pretty. She's a Westie-Poo puppy. She left a filthy mess. Proof she had a good time in the yard with the big girls.
Hadley was more dignified during her visit. Although she did climb on to the top of the coffee table and the crate. Dignified does not eliminate goat-like tendencies.
It was a dog gone, all around good weekend. One for the books, one for counting blessings, loving family and our four footed friends.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Howling in Prayer
Many dogs ago we had howlers. You know, the ones that howl whenever they hear a siren. Police cars, fire trucks, ambulances, tornado sirens. I had one cocker that would howl to some rock music. Come to think of it my Dad howled at that too. The howlers we had even taught the non-howlers to sing along. It was impressive.
Two things come to mind when I hear sirens. Howling dogs and prayer. I always pray for the first responder's. Dear Lord, keep them safe. I have no clue when I started doing this.
But then, I think of the dogs who howled. Of course I wonder about fire house dogs...do they howl too? Now most of us have howled ourselves. Howled in laughter, howled in despair. Howled at the injustice of life.
I imagine sometimes howls, like tears, are the only suitable response. In releasing that howl we open ourselves up to new responses. In the case of the dogs, they probably got told to stop making that racket. They probably didn't, and so we prayed for the sirens to pass quickly.
Now I just pray when I hear sirens. Maybe I have the dogs to thank for that.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Who Do You Love
I have to laugh. Used to be when we'd crawl into bed at night Reno would say to me first "Good night sweetheart, I love you". There has been a change in that. Of late, when he comes to bed I hear him whispering sweet nothings to Layla first, and then, if he thinks of it me.
I'm not mad, or even jealous, just amused. She is pretty cute, you know. I like to think that is because I'm secure in our love and he's still building that foundation with Layla. Or, maybe she just wiggles more and wags her tail cuter. I must be losing my touch. Maybe age is catching up with me and I've lost him to a younger bitch.
All in all, I am a lucky woman. He loves the dogs. If he didn't I'd be in big trouble. He always supports me when I say I'd like to foster again. Which is about every month.
That said, I can drift off to sleep hearing him profess his love to Layla. In a way it's like saying I love you, to me.
I'm not mad, or even jealous, just amused. She is pretty cute, you know. I like to think that is because I'm secure in our love and he's still building that foundation with Layla. Or, maybe she just wiggles more and wags her tail cuter. I must be losing my touch. Maybe age is catching up with me and I've lost him to a younger bitch.
All in all, I am a lucky woman. He loves the dogs. If he didn't I'd be in big trouble. He always supports me when I say I'd like to foster again. Which is about every month.
That said, I can drift off to sleep hearing him profess his love to Layla. In a way it's like saying I love you, to me.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Dig Holes Plant Trees
Of all the foster dogs we have had Jessie gets the award for excavation-al aptitude. I've been thinking of hiring her out. She is best at digging random holes in the yard, but with some fine tuning I think we can channel her energy and hone this skill. Layla tag teamed with her yesterday, eight paws is better than four, The mystery remains as to where all the dirt goes when it's been dug out. Some must vanish into thin, dirty air. You just never have as much to put back as they take out.
Speaking of holes. A coworker suggested she was getting too old to plant trees. Not physically. She meant she was of an age where if she did plant a tree she would not see it mature. I suggested she go for a fast growing variety.
Makes me sad she has chosen not to plant. She could plant tree's, hope, encouragement, laughter, wisdom. We don't have to see the growth, we only have to trust the process.
And if she wanted I'd send Jessie over to dig that hole. They would be done in no time at all, and then the growth could happen.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Breaking the Mould
As fosters go, this one is breaking the mould. First of all, she is not skin and bones. Wow, who thought that would ever happen? Her name is Jessie, but she could just as easily be called Holstein, Heifer, or Jersey. I say that in the nicest possible way. She didn't go hungry in her other life.
Also, the is the first foster to arrive to us in heat. Wow, who thought that would ever happen? Well, I guess we kept fostering and the odds finally caught up with us. At least she's neat about it. And that is all I'm going to say about that!
I do wonder, everyday when I get home, if there will be a menagerie of horny dogs waiting on the porch. I could see at lab, a rottie, a yorkie, a bassett and a couple randy chihuhua's all looking expectantly at the door. Or maybe they are camping out in a Winnebago behind the back fence. Draw lots for dibs on her. Frankly I don't think she'd be receptive. But, what do I know.
She is also the first one not interested in kibble. But, my sandwich at lunch the other day? Wow, do not turn your back for a second. My guess is she was fed table scraps. She must be disappointed we don't share many of them. No doubt you heard her cry of indignation. Stingy foster home, what is the crap they are feeding me. Geesh!
All of them are different, just as we are. They bring their baggage, just like we do. And sometimes they break the mold. When they do everything changes in my doggy dog world.
Also, the is the first foster to arrive to us in heat. Wow, who thought that would ever happen? Well, I guess we kept fostering and the odds finally caught up with us. At least she's neat about it. And that is all I'm going to say about that!
I do wonder, everyday when I get home, if there will be a menagerie of horny dogs waiting on the porch. I could see at lab, a rottie, a yorkie, a bassett and a couple randy chihuhua's all looking expectantly at the door. Or maybe they are camping out in a Winnebago behind the back fence. Draw lots for dibs on her. Frankly I don't think she'd be receptive. But, what do I know.
She is also the first one not interested in kibble. But, my sandwich at lunch the other day? Wow, do not turn your back for a second. My guess is she was fed table scraps. She must be disappointed we don't share many of them. No doubt you heard her cry of indignation. Stingy foster home, what is the crap they are feeding me. Geesh!
All of them are different, just as we are. They bring their baggage, just like we do. And sometimes they break the mold. When they do everything changes in my doggy dog world.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Fly Away Home
Dog's and rural airports. I knew I'd spend time with the former, but not so much the later. But the times have changed and thanks to pilotsnpaws.org dogs are moved across country all the time.
Our new foster, Jess arrived today courtesy of Pilot Dave and his daughter Jessica. Not that I'm jealous, but no one has flown me anywhere in a private plane. Several of our fosters have traveled in style like this.
Jess is the first one to arrive to us with a health certificate that says she's in heat. What, what? Wait, Pilot Dave, bring me one not in heat! But this is fostering, you get what you get and you roll with it. Never mind that I have no experience with a dog in heat. Never mind that Mick thinks his prayers have been answered. We shall deal with it. It's part of rescue. We do things that owners sometimes don't have the Cajones to do. In a perfect world this dog's family would not have given her up. And she would not have been at risk of being put down.
So it's not a perfect world. We are perfectly happy to do what we need to do to welcome Jess into the Great Plains Pointer Rescue family. She can hang with us until the right person wants to be her forever home. When that day comes she can fly away home with our blessing.
Our new foster, Jess arrived today courtesy of Pilot Dave and his daughter Jessica. Not that I'm jealous, but no one has flown me anywhere in a private plane. Several of our fosters have traveled in style like this.
Jess is the first one to arrive to us with a health certificate that says she's in heat. What, what? Wait, Pilot Dave, bring me one not in heat! But this is fostering, you get what you get and you roll with it. Never mind that I have no experience with a dog in heat. Never mind that Mick thinks his prayers have been answered. We shall deal with it. It's part of rescue. We do things that owners sometimes don't have the Cajones to do. In a perfect world this dog's family would not have given her up. And she would not have been at risk of being put down.
So it's not a perfect world. We are perfectly happy to do what we need to do to welcome Jess into the Great Plains Pointer Rescue family. She can hang with us until the right person wants to be her forever home. When that day comes she can fly away home with our blessing.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Mother's
We are born with one Mother, and through marriage are blessed with another Mother. If you are lucky you get yet another Mother if you get married again.
I have the equivalent of yet another Mother. Well, let me back up. There are friends and there are Mother's. Some friends Mother you. But some friends are more like a Mother. I wish I could define that better. This one I shall call my Blog Mother. She follows my life through my writing and always has something positive to say in response to what I write. She responds to most if not all of the blogs. And shares her experience as it relates to my stories. We have met a couple times, but have birthed our relationship because of my blog.
If my real Mom were still with with us, it is what I would want from her. Funny how life showers us with Mother's. Whether we are a Mom, or a dog Mom, or a Blog Mom. Whether we simply Mother another. It's all good, and sometimes Mom's just show up in our life. Amen to that, amen.
I have the equivalent of yet another Mother. Well, let me back up. There are friends and there are Mother's. Some friends Mother you. But some friends are more like a Mother. I wish I could define that better. This one I shall call my Blog Mother. She follows my life through my writing and always has something positive to say in response to what I write. She responds to most if not all of the blogs. And shares her experience as it relates to my stories. We have met a couple times, but have birthed our relationship because of my blog.
If my real Mom were still with with us, it is what I would want from her. Funny how life showers us with Mother's. Whether we are a Mom, or a dog Mom, or a Blog Mom. Whether we simply Mother another. It's all good, and sometimes Mom's just show up in our life. Amen to that, amen.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Timing
It is that time again. Time to pack, time to move, time to put down new roots, time to make a commitment. Time to say yes to a new residence and yet again time to make room for a new foster.
Yes, it's like a revolving door here. This time the revolving door is spinning us out to a small acreage in the country. We've been pondering if this is a brilliant decision or the act of the slightly addled.
It means we'll be in this part of the state for a while. Until now I was leery of planting those roots. Home was Omaha, and this was a temporary assignment. Now its time to embrace what this area offers. I can finally plant my Mom's hosta's, my iris and my good neighbor Ralph's rhubarb. We can get all of our things out of storage and finally unpack them.
We'll have two bathrooms, two fireplaces, two acres of fenced land and two acres of yard, plus a portion of a small river. Plus a basement for when it storms. Heck yes I'm thrilled to have a second bathroom and a basement. And we'll have a new foster.
We debated taking a new foster right now. But sometimes saving a life can not be scheduled around packing and moving. Like finding our new home, it just happens, so you seize the moment. Jump in with hearts wide open and see where the road goes. That is our plan.
Yes, it's like a revolving door here. This time the revolving door is spinning us out to a small acreage in the country. We've been pondering if this is a brilliant decision or the act of the slightly addled.
It means we'll be in this part of the state for a while. Until now I was leery of planting those roots. Home was Omaha, and this was a temporary assignment. Now its time to embrace what this area offers. I can finally plant my Mom's hosta's, my iris and my good neighbor Ralph's rhubarb. We can get all of our things out of storage and finally unpack them.
We'll have two bathrooms, two fireplaces, two acres of fenced land and two acres of yard, plus a portion of a small river. Plus a basement for when it storms. Heck yes I'm thrilled to have a second bathroom and a basement. And we'll have a new foster.
We debated taking a new foster right now. But sometimes saving a life can not be scheduled around packing and moving. Like finding our new home, it just happens, so you seize the moment. Jump in with hearts wide open and see where the road goes. That is our plan.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Categories - Part 2
So my simple thought of breaking down fosters into easy categories was not really so simple. Now I feel we need a Meyers-Briggs personality chart for these dogs.
Take Kobe, he fit into several categories, easy keeper, face only a mother could love, skin and bones thin when he arrived. Sophie was cute as a button and frightened of everything. Snowflake was part cute as a button, and part possessed. Sort of goes with the theory that everyone is half jerk/half jewel.
Mick is rock solid as a therapy dog, unless a plastic bag flies his way. Then he completely freaks. No, I haven't worked with him on that issue. Flying plastic bags are a rarity, thank goodness. Layla is both quick to learn and stubborn as an ox. Being cute saves her sorry butt over and over again. Hank was definitely an easy keeper, but dang could he break wind. As much as we miss him the air quality has improved.
It takes all kinds. And all kinds have a zillion variables. Makes life interesting for dog gone sure.
Take Kobe, he fit into several categories, easy keeper, face only a mother could love, skin and bones thin when he arrived. Sophie was cute as a button and frightened of everything. Snowflake was part cute as a button, and part possessed. Sort of goes with the theory that everyone is half jerk/half jewel.
Mick is rock solid as a therapy dog, unless a plastic bag flies his way. Then he completely freaks. No, I haven't worked with him on that issue. Flying plastic bags are a rarity, thank goodness. Layla is both quick to learn and stubborn as an ox. Being cute saves her sorry butt over and over again. Hank was definitely an easy keeper, but dang could he break wind. As much as we miss him the air quality has improved.
It takes all kinds. And all kinds have a zillion variables. Makes life interesting for dog gone sure.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Easy Keeper
I think if one were to categorize foster dogs they would be ranked as follows.
1. Spooky aka possessed.
2. Shy and/or timid - aka Sophie and Sidney, for example.
3. Starvin Marvins - Pete, Kobe, Layla (think skeletor), dog who need
some groceries.
4. Cute as a button - anything under 4 months
5. Irresistible- generally leads to a foster failure (sometimes stunning in
appearance, or a face only a mother could love.
6. Easy Keepers - all around good pups with no pronounced issues.
Some you race to their forever home and wave a hasty good bye, other's you can barely drag yourself away from. Some you just never let go. Bailey is definitely an easy keeper. Her new family is getting a gem of a pup. She has fit in with us so well. Layla will surely miss her. Mick, not so much. He is a bit of an old fart and will only play with Layla. We'll miss her because she keeps Layla occupied.
Of all the dogs Layla is the most outside oriented. I swear the other day she asked for kibble to be served outside. She'd rather be there than anywhere. No matter how hot it is she is a happy camper. Although at night she does enjoy the comfort of the master bed.
I hope that if I was classified I'd be an easy keeper too. Wish we could all be that way.
1. Spooky aka possessed.
2. Shy and/or timid - aka Sophie and Sidney, for example.
3. Starvin Marvins - Pete, Kobe, Layla (think skeletor), dog who need
some groceries.
4. Cute as a button - anything under 4 months
5. Irresistible- generally leads to a foster failure (sometimes stunning in
appearance, or a face only a mother could love.
6. Easy Keepers - all around good pups with no pronounced issues.
Some you race to their forever home and wave a hasty good bye, other's you can barely drag yourself away from. Some you just never let go. Bailey is definitely an easy keeper. Her new family is getting a gem of a pup. She has fit in with us so well. Layla will surely miss her. Mick, not so much. He is a bit of an old fart and will only play with Layla. We'll miss her because she keeps Layla occupied.
Of all the dogs Layla is the most outside oriented. I swear the other day she asked for kibble to be served outside. She'd rather be there than anywhere. No matter how hot it is she is a happy camper. Although at night she does enjoy the comfort of the master bed.
I hope that if I was classified I'd be an easy keeper too. Wish we could all be that way.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Yes, No, Today, Tomorrow, Next Week
Tuesday we agreed to take in new foster dog. Saturday was the day set to meet part way and pick her up. Wednesday it was decided she might not come because of a pending home visit. Thursday it was decided she was coming, but on Friday. Friday before she even arrived it was decided the adoption was a go, but she was en route already. So the plan was to send her back Saturday afternoon. After she arrived it was decided she wouldn't leave the next day and would stay with us for a week before going to her new family. To say the least our heads were spinning a little with all the updates.
Luckily, from being a single mother for a number of years (thanks kids for keeping me guessing all the time), I'm used to a sudden change of plans, or two. Rescue is sometime like that too, so I feel right at home.
Bailey is the first foster dog to arrive with ketchup on her leg. It's still there, I think she's saving it for later, much later. I can't decide if she likes ketchup or doesn't. I may never know. Obviously she enjoyed some fast food on her transport to us.
She is by far the easiest foster we've had to integrate into the home. Her new family is getting a gem of a pup. In the meantime, Layla has a playmate. Their new names should be Rough & Tumble, or Frick and Frack. They get on like gangbusters. We just try to stay out of the way of the dust cloud. At the end of the day we have two tired pups. And life is good.
Luckily, from being a single mother for a number of years (thanks kids for keeping me guessing all the time), I'm used to a sudden change of plans, or two. Rescue is sometime like that too, so I feel right at home.
Bailey is the first foster dog to arrive with ketchup on her leg. It's still there, I think she's saving it for later, much later. I can't decide if she likes ketchup or doesn't. I may never know. Obviously she enjoyed some fast food on her transport to us.
She is by far the easiest foster we've had to integrate into the home. Her new family is getting a gem of a pup. In the meantime, Layla has a playmate. Their new names should be Rough & Tumble, or Frick and Frack. They get on like gangbusters. We just try to stay out of the way of the dust cloud. At the end of the day we have two tired pups. And life is good.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Incoming and Outgoing
I love that when I suggest to Reno another foster he doesn't visibly flinch. I said there were two pups needing foster homes and what did he think. He thought one or the other but not both. But if I wanted both he'd support me.
I know Hank would want us to. Layla will love it, and Mick is rolling his eyes. OMG, here we go again. Yes, here we go again. Later this week we have a 7 month old pointer/setter pup named Bailey joining the pack until she finds her forever home. That is the incoming news.
The outgoing - well it's just me getting on my little bitty soapbox for a while. I'm feeling very old. I am amazed, and still a bit appalled at the general usage of the "f" bomb. My Mom would be proud to hear me say this. It comes "out" of so many peoples mouths on a regular basis. Hell, I can remember when hell was a bad word. Now the king of all bad words is used all the time. Sigh, it is what it is. I don't have to like it and I rarely use it. It never feels right coming out of my mouth, but that is just me. What will people use when that one is totally desensitized? Beats the bejeebers out of me.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Celebrations
We have celebrated July 4th in so many different ways. And, for the most part always took them for granted. You wake up, you cook, eat way too much, you shoot fireworks, clean up fireworks, go to bed exhausted. I used to worry about the kids getting hurt with fireworks. Now I worry about the dogs getting stressed by fireworks.
I'm to the age where all the noise of the fireworks is a wee bit irritating. Probably because it's the other people doing fireworks, and not us. Truthfully, we cut our teeth on fireworks. Part of my Dad's job included inspecting fireworks plants to make sure their product was safe for rail travel. You can bet they wanted their inspections to pass muster. So Dad always came home with a trunk full of fireworks. We had no idea how lucky we were.
This year, we are spending the 4th on an Air Force Base with Reno's daughter and son-in-law who is active military. Again, we have no idea how lucky we are. There will be city fireworks, but no personal fireworks. On base it will be quiet and peaceful. We'll still probably eat too much. But, and there is always a but, we will have a celebration of our independence. And, an immense gratitude for those who serve us.
I'm to the age where all the noise of the fireworks is a wee bit irritating. Probably because it's the other people doing fireworks, and not us. Truthfully, we cut our teeth on fireworks. Part of my Dad's job included inspecting fireworks plants to make sure their product was safe for rail travel. You can bet they wanted their inspections to pass muster. So Dad always came home with a trunk full of fireworks. We had no idea how lucky we were.
This year, we are spending the 4th on an Air Force Base with Reno's daughter and son-in-law who is active military. Again, we have no idea how lucky we are. There will be city fireworks, but no personal fireworks. On base it will be quiet and peaceful. We'll still probably eat too much. But, and there is always a but, we will have a celebration of our independence. And, an immense gratitude for those who serve us.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Paws N Feet
I was looking at Mick and Layla's paws yesterday. And then, I looked at my own feet. I stand on mine all day long, in the most comfortable shoes I can buy. They are protected from heat, cold, cement, wet, rocky surfaces, mud and all manner of other challenging surfaces.
The dog's feet are smooth and soft. The fur between their pads sticks up like little Mohawks. They are adorable. Mine, not so much. So, obviously, I should have feet like theirs. I bathe mine, scrub them with fragrant lotions, buff them with loofahs and pumice stones. Still they make sandpaper look desirable. They lick theirs clean and voila!
Funny how that works. Hands down, their feet take the cake. Dang straight, my feet look gnarly. Oh well, just the nature of the feet.
The dog's feet are smooth and soft. The fur between their pads sticks up like little Mohawks. They are adorable. Mine, not so much. So, obviously, I should have feet like theirs. I bathe mine, scrub them with fragrant lotions, buff them with loofahs and pumice stones. Still they make sandpaper look desirable. They lick theirs clean and voila!
Funny how that works. Hands down, their feet take the cake. Dang straight, my feet look gnarly. Oh well, just the nature of the feet.
Monday, June 25, 2012
The Wise Old Sage
I like to think of Hank as just a happy dufus boy, and he was. But he was something of a Wise Old Sage. He was also an attention hog. Read, understatement of the century. I've been noticing Mickey is way more affectionate now. Behind that proper English gentleman posture is a bit of a cuddler. Perhaps he has wanted to forever, but Hank never moved away from my side. Or, maybe Hank is nudging him from beyond. No doubt telling him that Humom needs some cuddles. And, not from the upstart, wild child named Layla.
Not that I don't always welcome Layla cuddles. They just come in at high velocity and leave the same way. Funny how different they are. Young and wild. Old and stately. Yes, I'm still talking about the dogs!
I would hope to be half as smart as they are and even a fraction of how loving they are. I would hope Layla never finds herself in a china shop. She wouldn't do well there. And, maybe, just maybe, if Hank is channeling though Mick. Tell him that snuggles and lovings are especially sweet after losing a beloved pet. Tell Layla that she gets bonus points for comic relief, and tell the universe that being loved by pets is a special slice of heaven.
Not that I don't always welcome Layla cuddles. They just come in at high velocity and leave the same way. Funny how different they are. Young and wild. Old and stately. Yes, I'm still talking about the dogs!
I would hope to be half as smart as they are and even a fraction of how loving they are. I would hope Layla never finds herself in a china shop. She wouldn't do well there. And, maybe, just maybe, if Hank is channeling though Mick. Tell him that snuggles and lovings are especially sweet after losing a beloved pet. Tell Layla that she gets bonus points for comic relief, and tell the universe that being loved by pets is a special slice of heaven.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Notes from Across The Bridge
Notes From Across The Bridge to my HuMom and friends who have lost pets. Don't be sad for long...be happy you loved me and have enough left to love another. ~Mr. Hanky
What better message could we receive from the other side. Don't be sad for long. Be grateful, love again. How is it that a silly pointer boy could share these words of wisdom? Heck if I know.
Hank comes from a long line of "love again" dogs. It all started with Abby, then Fancy, Mick, Maddie, Buddy, Jackson, Bo, Kobe, Pete, Sidney, Sophie, Chip, Queenie, Jr, Snowflake, and of course, Layla-la-la-la. And there will be more.
But for now Hank wants us to know. Life is good on the other side. And, it's good to love again. I always worry when people say "I'll never get another pet, I just couldn't go through that again". To each their own, but I just can't fathom saying no to the possibilities of love.
So thank you Hank for your words of encouragement. As always, you are a one-of-a kind dog...
What better message could we receive from the other side. Don't be sad for long. Be grateful, love again. How is it that a silly pointer boy could share these words of wisdom? Heck if I know.
Hank comes from a long line of "love again" dogs. It all started with Abby, then Fancy, Mick, Maddie, Buddy, Jackson, Bo, Kobe, Pete, Sidney, Sophie, Chip, Queenie, Jr, Snowflake, and of course, Layla-la-la-la. And there will be more.
But for now Hank wants us to know. Life is good on the other side. And, it's good to love again. I always worry when people say "I'll never get another pet, I just couldn't go through that again". To each their own, but I just can't fathom saying no to the possibilities of love.
So thank you Hank for your words of encouragement. As always, you are a one-of-a kind dog...
Monday, June 18, 2012
Walking
Sometimes walking with Layla is like walking a barracuda. She does so much better in class, not great, but so much better. In "real" time there are smells, grass, noises, Mick, plants, birds and trees. Surely she should not be expected to just walk. Her plan is to absorb it all, sniff it all, touch it all. Get me off the sidewalk, the good stuff is over there, and there, and there... She walks triple the distance we do.
But, she has a point. Life is not on the sidewalk. It is off road, and in the grass. It is in the puddles, ditches and bare spots. And, oh my, the smelly stinky gross spots too.
I ask her to walk my way. Perhaps, I should learn to walk her way.
But, she has a point. Life is not on the sidewalk. It is off road, and in the grass. It is in the puddles, ditches and bare spots. And, oh my, the smelly stinky gross spots too.
I ask her to walk my way. Perhaps, I should learn to walk her way.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Obedience Class
We finished our class and got our first certificate. I'm pretty sure it was a gift to humor us. Rather like when an education system passes the student on to the next grade because they simply don't know what to do with them. Although that is not a gift when that happens.
A brief synopsis. It took us 4 weeks to figure out that cheese cubes are like manna from the heavens for Layla. The 5th week we skipped because we were grieving the loss of Mr. Hanky, and on the 6th week we tested. No treats for testing. We were sorta screwed at that point.
Any hopes for winning the weekly traveling trophy for most improvement were flushed. I swear almost everyone in the class has docile dogs. By the way, the 6 month old Great Dane pup got Top Dog for overall most improved. I think we got robbed.
The first night of class the instructor decided we'd never get a "sit" out of Layla. She said pick your battles. The last night I got multiple "sits" out of her, without treats I might add. Helloo!!! We need a standing ovation for that.
Honestly, without us to make them look so good it would have been a whole different class. Truthfully, Layla has more spirit than all of them combined. Okay, you can call her spirited, or you can call her a wild child. She's young and a pointer. Maybe I just need to find a trainer experienced in pointers. Ya, that's the ticket.
A brief synopsis. It took us 4 weeks to figure out that cheese cubes are like manna from the heavens for Layla. The 5th week we skipped because we were grieving the loss of Mr. Hanky, and on the 6th week we tested. No treats for testing. We were sorta screwed at that point.
Any hopes for winning the weekly traveling trophy for most improvement were flushed. I swear almost everyone in the class has docile dogs. By the way, the 6 month old Great Dane pup got Top Dog for overall most improved. I think we got robbed.
The first night of class the instructor decided we'd never get a "sit" out of Layla. She said pick your battles. The last night I got multiple "sits" out of her, without treats I might add. Helloo!!! We need a standing ovation for that.
Honestly, without us to make them look so good it would have been a whole different class. Truthfully, Layla has more spirit than all of them combined. Okay, you can call her spirited, or you can call her a wild child. She's young and a pointer. Maybe I just need to find a trainer experienced in pointers. Ya, that's the ticket.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Looking Back
It's been a rough week. In terms of special, I mean really special dogs - Hank was/is up there at the top. Not that we loved him more than the others. He just was especially special. I can talk about him without crying now. I can look at old pictures of him and just laugh.
I miss him bouncing at the front door when we come home. And the urge to grab all three bowls at feeding time is still strong. He left a big 'ol Hanky-sized paw print on my heart.
I wonder if the other dogs miss him. I can't tell that they are grieving, but then, we do have Layla. She should have been named Ms. Mach II. She has all the personality of Mr. Hanky wrapped up in a young pup's body. No off switch, if you catch my drift. And yet, she did pause in her shenanigans to just be still with us. I have to believe it was to soak up the pain and soften the loss.
So we miss our silly Hanky-boy. We give thanks for his time with us, and we look back and laugh. All part of the healing process.
Monday, June 4, 2012
In Heaven
Dear HuMom and other people, including Scary Man, Mick, Layla and all my other friends. In heaven the squirrels are slower. In heaven, I can run all day, sleep all night, and my bowl runneth over with t-bones, with a side of cucumbers.
It's similar to Nebraska. I know this because I experienced gentle hands, good food and the comforts a stray can only dream of. I didn't have to suffer from heat or cold, or pain when my time came.
I had a roast beast sandwich, a romp in the park after the squirrels and a soft quilt to rest upon. I was held safe and loved until my last moment. I was one of the lucky ones.
Every blessing you gave me I returned in devotion. I am dog blessed.
Monday, May 28, 2012
I Would Like To Thank The....
I, Hanky Poo McLovin, would like to thank the staff of the Montgomery County Animal Rescue in Red Oak, IA, and Pointer Rescue Organization for where I am today.
Sure, you're thinking dogs don't do testimonials. Dude, yes they do! Without you, Jan, I wouldn't be living the good life in Nebraska. You carried me into the shelter when I couldn't walk. Your team members showed me, kindness, compassion and where the kibble was. You are a small town rescue with a big heart. I hope you count me as one of your successes.
I want for nothing. Well, except maybe that big t-bone steak in the freezer. Okay, so I only want for that steak, and, umm, the squirrel that talks smack to me in the back yard. Other than that, I have it all. Oh, and the kitty that runs loose in the vet clinic. That is wrong on many levels. I really wanted that. I wanted that with lust in my heart. Not because I wanted a friend either. Of course, I often want the cucumbers to roll off the counter, because they are one of my favorites. They are round, it could happen you know. I want Layla to quit being a pest, but you now the saying about pigs flying. But other than that I have everything a dog could want.
Food, shelter, a king size bed, gentle hands, kisses on the schnozzle. Thanks to you guys I am a dog blessed. So it's okay if I dream about steaks, squirrels, rolling cucumbers and loose kitties. It's all part of the good life you gave me.
Sure, you're thinking dogs don't do testimonials. Dude, yes they do! Without you, Jan, I wouldn't be living the good life in Nebraska. You carried me into the shelter when I couldn't walk. Your team members showed me, kindness, compassion and where the kibble was. You are a small town rescue with a big heart. I hope you count me as one of your successes.
I want for nothing. Well, except maybe that big t-bone steak in the freezer. Okay, so I only want for that steak, and, umm, the squirrel that talks smack to me in the back yard. Other than that, I have it all. Oh, and the kitty that runs loose in the vet clinic. That is wrong on many levels. I really wanted that. I wanted that with lust in my heart. Not because I wanted a friend either. Of course, I often want the cucumbers to roll off the counter, because they are one of my favorites. They are round, it could happen you know. I want Layla to quit being a pest, but you now the saying about pigs flying. But other than that I have everything a dog could want.
Food, shelter, a king size bed, gentle hands, kisses on the schnozzle. Thanks to you guys I am a dog blessed. So it's okay if I dream about steaks, squirrels, rolling cucumbers and loose kitties. It's all part of the good life you gave me.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Silly Boy's
There is a silly pointer boy named Hank that lives with us. He has several alias'. He is called Hanky, Mr. Hanky, Poo, Mr. Hanky McLovin. He came into rescue as a stray, barely able to walk. We said yes to fostering him. That was about 3 years ago.
He has the thinnest coat I've ever seen on a pointer and a pink hairless belly. Hank has the gnarliest nipples and lumps-n-bumps from mast cell tumors. Some people might question why we'd keep a guy like him. I would challenge them why not? There is an idiot out there who has missed three awesome years with a peach of a pointer.
Of late, his tumor began showing rapid growth, so we know our time with him is limited to month's, if we are lucky. We're taking this opportunity to shower extra loving on a guy who exudes love personified. Yesterday we split a burger and fries at Freddie's SteakBurgers. He wants you to know that if Mom ever offers to share a Freddie Burger one should always, always, always say yes!
Life is short and we plan to savor all the Hanky moments we have left. Cause dogs don't get any better than Hank, and we are blessed to share his journey.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Who's Training Who
I think I'm doing well because Layla is learning to heel, to come (sometimes), to leave it, to wait. I think she's just humoring me. Half the time I'm praising her for these accomplishments, the other half I'm telling her to quit eating from my flower pots, to get off the picnic table, to stop eating my growers pots. Especially the one with the mint I'm growing for Mojito's.
It's been a while since we're done any serious obedience work with my dogs. Hahaha, serious? and Layla? In the same sentence? Not hardly.
Between her attention span, and mine for that matter, it makes it a challenge. With the uncertain background of her first year she requires some extra patience. And then, she is handicapped by my ability to make time, or not make time, for training sessions. I'm certain we are the "most likely to fail" in class. Even the 6 month old Great Dane pup is doing better. And she had to be almost dragged into class the first session.
I suppose any training is better than no training. We're learning as we go, I'm training her, she's training me. It's a teamwork thing.
It's been a while since we're done any serious obedience work with my dogs. Hahaha, serious? and Layla? In the same sentence? Not hardly.
Between her attention span, and mine for that matter, it makes it a challenge. With the uncertain background of her first year she requires some extra patience. And then, she is handicapped by my ability to make time, or not make time, for training sessions. I'm certain we are the "most likely to fail" in class. Even the 6 month old Great Dane pup is doing better. And she had to be almost dragged into class the first session.
I suppose any training is better than no training. We're learning as we go, I'm training her, she's training me. It's a teamwork thing.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Mothering
I've been doing this Mom gig for quite a while now. Let me tell you I'd do those baby days over in a heart beat. Not at my current age, mind you, but back when I was young, semi-clueless and full of energy. It's been a privilege to be called Mom, Mommy, Mother, dog-Mom, foster dog-Mom.
I still wake up at the crack of dawn with the dogs. Years of being "on call" with the kids trained me for this. One ear always open for them stirring. One heart beat away from concern that something might be wrong with a precious little one. I'm at the stage in life where my kids are on their own, self sufficient and our circles don't cross much. Not complaining at all, mind you. Except for missing the joy of them walking in the door when you don't expect them.
Now I just "Mom" the dogs. Believe me, with Layla it's a full time job. She is a digger, chewer, hunter of moths, go getter that has no off button. At her first obedience class the teacher used her as a prime example. We might never get her to 'sit', we need to pick our battles. Great, first class and we are a shining example of non-compliance.
But, and there is always a but, she keeps us on our toes, makes us laugh, entices us to throw the tennis ball a hundred times a day and keeps Mick and Hank from being stodgy couch potatoes.
Kids are like that. They keep us from complacency and at the same time make our hearts grow. Makes me realize how lucky I am in my role as Mother of both, the two footed and four footed variety of kids.
I still wake up at the crack of dawn with the dogs. Years of being "on call" with the kids trained me for this. One ear always open for them stirring. One heart beat away from concern that something might be wrong with a precious little one. I'm at the stage in life where my kids are on their own, self sufficient and our circles don't cross much. Not complaining at all, mind you. Except for missing the joy of them walking in the door when you don't expect them.
Now I just "Mom" the dogs. Believe me, with Layla it's a full time job. She is a digger, chewer, hunter of moths, go getter that has no off button. At her first obedience class the teacher used her as a prime example. We might never get her to 'sit', we need to pick our battles. Great, first class and we are a shining example of non-compliance.
But, and there is always a but, she keeps us on our toes, makes us laugh, entices us to throw the tennis ball a hundred times a day and keeps Mick and Hank from being stodgy couch potatoes.
Kids are like that. They keep us from complacency and at the same time make our hearts grow. Makes me realize how lucky I am in my role as Mother of both, the two footed and four footed variety of kids.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Prancing In The Dark
Ms. Layla, who believes she is part retriever, loves her tennis balls. Thanks to a neighbor kid who plays tennis, she has quite a collection. There are at least 6 if not more in the yard. If she wants you to throw it, she'll bring it and drop it near you. If you don't respond she'll go get another. Just in case we prefer one ball over the other. Let me tell you, she's hard to resist.
Last night we played what I call "prancing in the dark". Imagine a young, blonde bimbo..err...young liver pointer playing fetch in the dark. We would toss the ball, but she was clueless as to where it went. No matter that. She would run circles in the yard until she found a ball. Doesn't matter which ball. Any ball will do. Game on! Granted, if she only had one ball it would have been a different game. Way more intense than her little brain could handle. Since there were many she was like "Oh yea! A Ball!.....run, run, run, wait for the toss. Run, run, run, Oh hey! Here's a ball. Run, run, run. Wait for the toss...run, run, run...Heck Yes, I'm a night vision retrieving genius!
Maybe she's a genius. Could be she's the Einstein of canines. Or, maybe, she's a silly little pointer girl prancing in the dark. Thankfully she lives in a yard where it rains tennis balls. ...wait for the toss...run, run, run...
Last night we played what I call "prancing in the dark". Imagine a young, blonde bimbo..err...young liver pointer playing fetch in the dark. We would toss the ball, but she was clueless as to where it went. No matter that. She would run circles in the yard until she found a ball. Doesn't matter which ball. Any ball will do. Game on! Granted, if she only had one ball it would have been a different game. Way more intense than her little brain could handle. Since there were many she was like "Oh yea! A Ball!.....run, run, run, wait for the toss. Run, run, run, Oh hey! Here's a ball. Run, run, run. Wait for the toss...run, run, run...Heck Yes, I'm a night vision retrieving genius!
Maybe she's a genius. Could be she's the Einstein of canines. Or, maybe, she's a silly little pointer girl prancing in the dark. Thankfully she lives in a yard where it rains tennis balls. ...wait for the toss...run, run, run...
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Tough Choices
I have a dear friend who asked me how to make sense of euthanizing a beloved pet when the bible says though shalt not kill. She asked me to share this dilemma with those who read this blog in hopes of making sense of this.
She knew she had no choice to love her dog across the bridge. Playing a role in that is the worst part of pet ownership. We all dread that day. We fret and worry when the time is near. We walk those last steps with a heavy broken heart.
How do we find peace with that? I hope it is found in humanely ending the suffering of our furry friend. It can seem both easy and yet profoundly complex to understand. As I write Layla lays beside me on the recliner. She trusts me to care for her needs, in good times and in bad, sickness and in health.
Thou shalt not kill. But, we should end suffering when we are able to do so. So I turn this over to you, to help a grieving friend find peace.
She knew she had no choice to love her dog across the bridge. Playing a role in that is the worst part of pet ownership. We all dread that day. We fret and worry when the time is near. We walk those last steps with a heavy broken heart.
How do we find peace with that? I hope it is found in humanely ending the suffering of our furry friend. It can seem both easy and yet profoundly complex to understand. As I write Layla lays beside me on the recliner. She trusts me to care for her needs, in good times and in bad, sickness and in health.
Thou shalt not kill. But, we should end suffering when we are able to do so. So I turn this over to you, to help a grieving friend find peace.
Monday, April 16, 2012
New Things
Layla would like to thank Mick for the important tutorial on how to tear the filling out of a dog bed today. Valuable knowledge - for future escapades no doubt.
Hank just wants to say he's still got it going. He's the man. The other day he flushed a bunny, chased it down and snatched it up. When I opened the door to call Reno for help removing it Hank raced inside and deposited it on the carpet. I also nearly deposited something on the carpet. As much as I was appalled, I was also proud at his catch of the day.
And for the record, someone has been eating all the blossoms off my pansy's. Someone?? I don't have to be Sherlock Holmes to know it is a four-footed culprit. I just haven't caught anyone with petals stuck to their lips. It's only a matter of time.
The last new thing is that we moved the last of our belongings out of the house in Omaha pending it's closing on Monday. This time next week I will not have a "home". No, I won't be homeless, but I will be less one home. It's bittersweet. To say the least. New things are like that. Let go of one thing to receive another. It's not easy, but, the best is yet to come.
Hank just wants to say he's still got it going. He's the man. The other day he flushed a bunny, chased it down and snatched it up. When I opened the door to call Reno for help removing it Hank raced inside and deposited it on the carpet. I also nearly deposited something on the carpet. As much as I was appalled, I was also proud at his catch of the day.
And for the record, someone has been eating all the blossoms off my pansy's. Someone?? I don't have to be Sherlock Holmes to know it is a four-footed culprit. I just haven't caught anyone with petals stuck to their lips. It's only a matter of time.
The last new thing is that we moved the last of our belongings out of the house in Omaha pending it's closing on Monday. This time next week I will not have a "home". No, I won't be homeless, but I will be less one home. It's bittersweet. To say the least. New things are like that. Let go of one thing to receive another. It's not easy, but, the best is yet to come.
Friday, April 13, 2012
One of THOSE dog owners.
I have a confession to make. I've crossed over to the other side. Today, for the first time in all the years and all the dogs I've been owned by, I sent one to boarding. OMG. So far, I've always had the luxury of leaving my dogs with
Reno, or my kids. They have been troopers over the years helping me out. But now that the kids and I live in different cities, it's a whole new dog biscuit.
Ms. Layla is being boarded for the weekend. I feel like I've sent her to a concentration camp. Realistically, I know her needs are being met. She'll be fed, get attention, get play time. She will get far more there than before she came into rescue and found her forever home.
But, I hated to leave her. I wonder if she wonders if we are coming back. I wonder if she is having flash backs. I wonder if she'll be twice as goofy when we return. In a way I'm glad there is not a doggie-cam for me to check on her. I'd like to watch, and I'm glad I can't.
Never thought I'd be such a worry wart. But then, I've never left a pet with total strangers before...well, we both know they aren't total strangers...but she doesn't know that.
Reno, or my kids. They have been troopers over the years helping me out. But now that the kids and I live in different cities, it's a whole new dog biscuit.
Ms. Layla is being boarded for the weekend. I feel like I've sent her to a concentration camp. Realistically, I know her needs are being met. She'll be fed, get attention, get play time. She will get far more there than before she came into rescue and found her forever home.
But, I hated to leave her. I wonder if she wonders if we are coming back. I wonder if she is having flash backs. I wonder if she'll be twice as goofy when we return. In a way I'm glad there is not a doggie-cam for me to check on her. I'd like to watch, and I'm glad I can't.
Never thought I'd be such a worry wart. But then, I've never left a pet with total strangers before...well, we both know they aren't total strangers...but she doesn't know that.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Our House
"Our House is a very, very, very fine house. With three dogs in the yard. Life used to be so hard, now everything is easy 'cause of you..." Okay, so I took some artistic license with an old Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young song. I feel pretty sure they meant to write three dogs, instead of two cats. But maybe they were cat people instead of dog people. Could be they felt the cats needed a little help in popularity polls.
We have three dogs in the yard. And a couple of squirrels that talk smack to them. We have two senior dogs and a youngster that thinks life is a cabaret. Well, make that, life is a tennis ball, fish toy and a rope toy. Life is for running willy nilly. It is for flopping down when you can't run any more. Buckets with wood soaking for the bbq become the equivalent of bobbing for apples. It's fun to see her shenanigans and to watch the boys snooze in the sun. Young bliss and old bliss coexisting. I wish I had her energy, and I envy the boys their nap time.
Most everything is easy 'cause of you'...dogs. Or at least easier, in this very fine house. They don't take themselves seriously. Nor should we. Although they do take play and naps seriously. Good lessons to learn for our own very fine house....
We have three dogs in the yard. And a couple of squirrels that talk smack to them. We have two senior dogs and a youngster that thinks life is a cabaret. Well, make that, life is a tennis ball, fish toy and a rope toy. Life is for running willy nilly. It is for flopping down when you can't run any more. Buckets with wood soaking for the bbq become the equivalent of bobbing for apples. It's fun to see her shenanigans and to watch the boys snooze in the sun. Young bliss and old bliss coexisting. I wish I had her energy, and I envy the boys their nap time.
Most everything is easy 'cause of you'...dogs. Or at least easier, in this very fine house. They don't take themselves seriously. Nor should we. Although they do take play and naps seriously. Good lessons to learn for our own very fine house....
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Why do you....
Layla has questions.
Why do you leave for part of every day? Seriously, we could play all day every day. Why can't we?
Why do you go in the little room, behind the curtain and get rained on every day. Are you in Seattle? Do you mind that I peak in to see if you are still there?
Why does Hank want so much of your attention? He has had it for years and I've just gotten here.
Why does my tennis ball roll under the neighbors fence? And what do you mean I can't dig up the neighbors rose bush under the fence? I know you love roses.
Do I really have to "give it" when you say so? Do I really have to "come" when you say so? Why is walking me like walking a whirling dervish? I just like to be everywhere and the leash makes that impossible. You may want to walk forward, I prefer side-to-side.
Why does the squirrel get to run on the top of the fence? I want to do that!!! Does Hank really not know how to play? OMG - how sad is that. Why does Mickey sometimes play like an old man. Ohhhhh, he is an old man.
Do I really have to behave when you are out-of-town? I rather like being non-compliant.
Why, why, why....I just wanna know why?
~Layla
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Reveille
The dogs have their own sort of reveille in the morning. Sometimes it is sounded via my alarm clock. Other times it is instigated by an internal clock of their own.
Hank's reveille normally occurs about 4:30-5:00am when he leaves his place on the sofa to join us on the bed. Mick rarely comes to check on us. He would gladly have us over sleep.
As soon as I make the slightest move to get up all the dogs are on alert. I should wake up that fast! Heck, I've never in my life woken up that fast. Now, Layla doesn't have free range in the house at night. She's young and into everything. So she sleeps in a kennel at night for the safety of every edible and non-edible thing we own.
When I let her out an interesting phenomenon occurs. The boys race for the back door, longing for a tree to relieve themselves on. Not so Layla, she runs the other direction. She runs to the bedroom to check on Scaryman. She is his personal reveille. Are you there? Are you up? Do you see me? Can we play? Aren't I cute? Did you miss me? Whatcha doing? Can I step on you? Is it belly rub time?
The boys have long since had their morning relief. She has Daddy time. First things first for Layla. Proof that there are many ways to relieving yourself in the morning. And going potty is just one of them.
Hank's reveille normally occurs about 4:30-5:00am when he leaves his place on the sofa to join us on the bed. Mick rarely comes to check on us. He would gladly have us over sleep.
As soon as I make the slightest move to get up all the dogs are on alert. I should wake up that fast! Heck, I've never in my life woken up that fast. Now, Layla doesn't have free range in the house at night. She's young and into everything. So she sleeps in a kennel at night for the safety of every edible and non-edible thing we own.
When I let her out an interesting phenomenon occurs. The boys race for the back door, longing for a tree to relieve themselves on. Not so Layla, she runs the other direction. She runs to the bedroom to check on Scaryman. She is his personal reveille. Are you there? Are you up? Do you see me? Can we play? Aren't I cute? Did you miss me? Whatcha doing? Can I step on you? Is it belly rub time?
The boys have long since had their morning relief. She has Daddy time. First things first for Layla. Proof that there are many ways to relieving yourself in the morning. And going potty is just one of them.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Grieving....
A friend writes to me. "This is my second full day without Mike." So this blog is about grief, and hopefully, a very small measure of comfort.
So often we measure life in days, weeks, months. Other times we measure it by the magnitude of loss. We measure from the moment life changed until we can no longer measure the size of the pain. We measure because doing so offers a speck of reality in a life that has become surreal.
The heart cannot hold all the pain at once. The mind shuts down and numbness encompasses. We think in terms of the past because we cannot fathom the future. And I wonder, what comforts pain like this?
Let me say I am no expert in this. But this is my wish for my friend. In this time of sorrow and introspection be gentle with yourself. Let your animals lean on you and be balm for your soul. Furry friends speak volumes. Be still if you need to. Breathe.... Cry when you have tears. Know that you are not alone. He is with you. He is always with you.
So often we measure life in days, weeks, months. Other times we measure it by the magnitude of loss. We measure from the moment life changed until we can no longer measure the size of the pain. We measure because doing so offers a speck of reality in a life that has become surreal.
The heart cannot hold all the pain at once. The mind shuts down and numbness encompasses. We think in terms of the past because we cannot fathom the future. And I wonder, what comforts pain like this?
Let me say I am no expert in this. But this is my wish for my friend. In this time of sorrow and introspection be gentle with yourself. Let your animals lean on you and be balm for your soul. Furry friends speak volumes. Be still if you need to. Breathe.... Cry when you have tears. Know that you are not alone. He is with you. He is always with you.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Treats and Things
Layla runs like a goof ball in the yard. Toys in mouth, dangling, bouncing, juggling them as she goes. Circle, laps, figure eights, zig zags. She is a happy little nut job in pointer clothing.
We've been working on retrieving. Okay, I've been working on retrieving. She's been working on happy-go-lucky running. She excels at that. I've been trying to find the right treat to reward her with when she retrieves. We've tried Cheez-its, hot dog bits, dog treats of various flavors. She is getting the retrieving. She is not getting the treating! She will take the treat and go deposit it in the yard and then is ready to chase the toy again. Boom, she's back for another treat which she drops a few steps away. When I quit throwing the toy she follows her nose until she finds all the treats. Silly to watch, but she gets twice the work out.
I'm pretty certain the pointer boyz think she is certifiable. Maybe I'm missing the point. The thrill is in the game, not the dessert that follows. Hmmmmmm,I've always been in it for the treat. Maybe I'm missing a key element. Or, maybe I need to treat myself each time she retrieves. Now we're talking.
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