Merry & Happy

So Christmas has come and gone and with it most of my to-do lists.  I did not get the cards written, or a tree decorated.  The wrapping was done at the very last minute possible.  Yes, some got wrapped, some only got bows, at least one didn't get labeled.  But the show goes on and we celebrated anyway.  I wish I'd done more.  I wish I'd done less.

It's been a great year, so bear with me while I run through the highlights.  We got two foster dogs in and got two foster dogs adopted.  One was a puppy who barely got settled here, the other was the size of small pony.  Miss them both, thrilled they are adopted!!  We transported dogs...to Omaha, to Lincoln, to Grand Island, to Omaha, to Aurora, to Omaha, to Stockham...repeat.  Good miles driven helping dogs.  

We were blessed with company this year.  We had quick overnight guests, surprise guests, long awaited visit guests, we had so many tents in the yard it looked like a KOA campground. Thank you for gracing us with your friendship and your laughter. Never thought so many would find us on our little piece of heaven, but love that you did.  

Our kids are thriving.  That says it all for us.  We have a newborn grandson, thanks to Reno's daughter and son-in-law.  Icing on the cake.  

We planted some curly willows, a cherry tree, a couple of raspberry bushes and several roses bushes. We built garden beds and a compost pile.  "We" mostly means Reno, but one of us is brains and one of us brawn. We watched the corn fields go from seed to harvest in our first full growing season in the country. Basically we put down a whole lot of roots this year and loved every minute of it.  Okay, so maybe there were one or two times that we faltered. We all know sometimes shit happens. Strong roots help you through them.

There was partying, growing, mowing, trenching, building, entertaining, planting, canning, shoveling, poop scooping, cooking, and drinking...life can be thirsty work.  And we put a few miles on the car too.  Last but not least, there was Sooner football.

Of course this doesn't cover all we did, the fun we had, the growth we experienced. It does hold our gratitude for the year past, and the laughter shared. Thank you for being part of our life and our adventures.  We wish you a Merry, a healthy and a Happy today and always.  God Bless.

Warm Blankets.

Warm blankets come in many shape and sizes.  Some are not technically blankets at all.  Sure we love the comfort of pulling a blanket up to our chin on cold nights.  But I like the other blankets in my life. 

The warmth of knowing our most recent foster, Wallace has found his forever home. We miss the big goober, but we love the quietness of the house since he's left.  I know his new owner's life has changed for the better.  He comes with so many gifts and the slingers on the wall are the icing on the cake. I will admit it is hard to let them go.  Fosters take a piece of your heart with them, just like that little piece of the coffee table that went as well.  But the blanket of satisfaction is that another one was saved.  That's why we do this.

The blanket of snow in the yard has got nothing on a good blanket of joy and love. A thick blanket of humor makes life bearable on the hard days and terrific on the hilarious days. The blanket I have the most trouble keeping track of is that of patience. That one is always to small and often hides from me.  

Our newest blanket is the softest and sweetest one of all.  It came in the form of our new grandchild.  Yup, Reno's daughter and husband became parents so we have entered a new realm of gratitude.  Now, we haven't gotten our hands on this precious babe yet, but our love for him grows daily.

So today I pull close all those warm blankets in my life.  I hope you can do the same.  

Am I Doing Enough

A little reflection is a good thing.  I've been envying my friends who are posting each day of this month something they are grateful for.  In a way I'm vicariously grateful through them.  Naturally I wish I'd done that too.  So often we overlook how much we have in our quest to get more, do more, be more. 

Some might say my quest has always been more dogs.  Well certainly Reno would verify that.  I can't keep them all so fostering gives me a temporary fix of owning them, loving them and sending them home.  Perhaps Grandparent's feel this way too.  At times I wonder am I doing enough?  Do I do it well enough?  Am I nuts?  I'm not always the world's best trainer, but I am a really good dog lover. 

Our house has "marks" of our little failures.  Teeth marks on the coffee table corners, spots on the rug, doors that are scratched.  It's like a legend that says...Wallace was here, Mick did this, Addy did that.  There will always be dog fur collecting in the corners. And a pile of dog bones scattered throughout the house. Having dogs is messy sometimes, fostering is challenging.  But I really wouldn't have it any other way.  Okay, sometimes in my dreams I visualize the perfect dog world where the house stays clean, they are model canine citizens and I'm Victoria Stillwell. It's good to dream isn't it?

So even as I ask, am I doing enough...I have to remember doing something is always better than doing nothing.  I am ever so grateful for that.

Seasons

Funny how the seasons go, even the different months within the seasons. Take Fall for example.  September is the beginning and comes with hints of Fall, and lingering Summer.  October is Fall in all it's glory.  Then comes November.  It takes on a whole new meaning.  It's a time to take stock and give thanks.  Life is like that, seasons are like that, the dogs are like that.

While it's early for "Thanksgiving" it's never too early (or too late) for thanks giving. I'm especially thankful for Mickey.  He's our resident old dude.  He is what got me into pointers.  I like to imagine he scratched, literally and figuratively, two things off his bucket list recently.  

First was a romp he took in the corn fields.  He is only loose out in front when I'm there to watch him.  There's the rub.  I had him with me, and then got chatting and forgot he was with me.  I went in and left him out.  Well, talk about doggy bliss.  Off he went on some scent-filled adventure.  He may have been tracking birds in the corn rows.  He could have been chasing the ducks on the river.  He might have been looking for deer. I'll never know and he's not telling.  But for roughly 45 minutes he had the run of his life.  For 45 minutes I had the run of my life too, looking for him. In the end, he showed up of his own accord, thirsty, happy and weary.  Come to think of it, I ended up the same way myself.

His second adventure, was less one of joy.  We came home one day to discover he had scratched the hell out of the kitchen door.  Mick, aka model citizen...Mick aka trustworthy as they come...Mick...aka pointer who sleeps all day.  What the hell Mick??  Perhaps for years he has wanted to be a bad dog. Could be he's been fighting the rebel urges for years.  We were baffled as to what made him cross over to the dark side.  We discovered he reacted out of fear.  The evil smoke detector had begun beeping because of a low battery. New note to self, Mick does not like beepers.  Maybe it's a new phobia.  Old dogs can learn new phobia's.  We have proof.  

We couldn't be mad.  Just not possible with this golden oldie canine friend. Can't help but give thanks for this old boy who teaches us new tricks.

Part of the Territory

Part of fostering is letting them in and being willing to let them go.  Another part is wondering if they will ever go.  Sometimes they just get in the door, get settled and then they move on.  Other times...like lately...it seems like it will never happen.

Now, we know better.  This isn't our first rodeo.  Although sometimes it feels like it.  We have two fosters right now.  Someone thought that would be a good idea.  Ummm....no names mentioned.  Pleading the fifth, saying it seemed like the thing to do at the time and all that jazz.  In that nameless person's defense, it was absolutely the right thing to do.

Addy has been with us since February and Wallace since August.  People are missing out I tell you.  They both will make someone a great forever friend.  We find ourselves in the meantime.  Isn't most of life spent in that time zone?  In the meantime we love them, care for them and want them to leave.  In the nicest possible way.  It's like raising teenagers...a whole lot an angst involved and you can't wait for them to leave.  And in the same moment you don't want them to go at all.

So there it is. It's just part of the territory.  Part of fostering, part of waiting, part of loving and letting go.

News from our little house on the prairie...

It's been a while since we checked in because life has been full and busy.  Lot's of stuff in our doggy dog world. 

Layla completed her first pet therapy visit.  Such a treat to get back into that type of volunteer work.  I forget some folks don't have the grace of dogs in their life on a daily basis.  Need to remember that more when life gets crazy because of said dogs!  We visited an adult residence for psych patients.  A little hard to tell if they enjoyed seeing the dogs, but you just have to trust in the magic they hold. 

Wallace would like you to know several things.  Fresh raspberries are in the northeast corner of the yard.  It doesn't take much to put your paws up on the fence and partake of them. It does not endear you to the human residents however.  He'd like to remind you that his big adorable furry self is still looking for a forever home too. With maturity (hahahahaa) and training he'd make a great pet therapy dog.  Right now, sometimes I think I need therapy because of him.  But seriously, he has what it takes folks, just need to polish him a little.  He'd also like to apologize for the window screen debacle...and that's all I'm going to say about that.

Mick went walkabout yesterday.  No fault of his own, it was my error and thankfully no harm came to him.  I got gabbing and went in the house leaving him in the front yard.  He refuses to say where he was for that 45 minutes.  I can tell you he was not down the lane, over by the river, or in any part of the corn fields I searched for 45 minutes.  He and his nose were probably in canine bliss.  It was not, however, bliss for me.  In the end, he trotted up to the porch and headed to the door just like it was a planned outing.  Phfewwww...thank dog on that one.

We've been blessed with company of late.  Hunting company and extra dogs.  Family company, traveling company.  I can remember when we moved to the middle of nowhere thinking we'd never see anyone.  Glad to be wrong on that score.  Now Addy doesn't enjoy all the company as much as we do, but by
putting a calming wrap (TTouch Wrap) it really eased her anxiety.  She breathed a sigh of relief and we did too.  All the visiting dogs appreciated that as well.

So there you have it.  Lots of life in our furry little world.  By the way, come see us some time.  We'd love to see you.

  

The Dog Days

My life seems to revolve around flowers and dogs.  Dogs and flowers, cooking, working, sleeping, repeat.  Begin again.  Granted it's bound together by faith, family and love. 

We've had a house full lately.  Our two residents and two fosters.  Well, Wallace is large enough to qualify as two dogs alone.  You wouldn't think adding one more dog would make such a difference, but it does.

Then we've also been blessed with company.  Last weekend we hosted a campout.  The back yard looked like a KOA camp grounds.  Seven tents, nine dogs total and 12 people.  It was like a three ring circus!  Wednesday we had company again, and then last night my favorite hunter was here, plus a friend and two dogs.  Here is the deal, I love the company!!  But the commotion?  My head was spinning, but it doesn't take much for that to happen.

Isn't it a delightful dilemma?  All the activity at our little quiet haven.  Life is like that whirlwinds of stimulus sometimes, peace and quiet other times.  Balancing the two so as to fill your heart with joy.  

Now Wallace is much like life lately.  Big, quiet (sometimes) and full.  Full of shenanigans, yet mellow at the same time.  You have to watch him all the time.  Face it 60+ lbs of curiosity can be a challenge.  He doesn't like to be left alone, much preferring human company.  He will eat anything that doesn't eat him first.  He's learned to give Addy wide berth, that Layla is the playful one, and that Mick is an old crab.  He's determined to get him to play, and Mick is determined not to.

I'm like life lately too.  Go, go, go...finding it hard to gear down to rejuvenate as needed.  Sometimes we need to get off the merry-go-round, even if it's so merry as we go around.   So that's my wish, for fullness of life, and the comfort of rest.  And finding the happy balance.

I'm a Helper

Everyone needs a helper.  Someone to lend a hand, or paw.  Someone to let you lean on them. To be there for you.  Someone you howl for when they are gone.

Wallace is that sort of guy.  Except he's a dog.  He's a big goober of a dog.  He drools when stressed.  He's learning the ropes.  Oh, I can't eat that rope?  How about the shoes, or the pillows, or the coffee table?? No???  Well, what can I eat?  How about that nice eggplant you picked? He is learning the finer nuances of being an indoor dog.  Like how not to fall off of the love seat.  How not to tip over the recliner.  Did I mention he's a big goober??  He's teaching me what it's like to have a shadow.  Although, he's like velcro until I go down stairs.  Wallace draws the line at stairs...and getting into cars.  Nope, can't make me.  I lifted him in the other day, had too.  All 57 lbs of him.  I won't be doing that again unless I absolutely have too. But, a good helper will lift you up sometimes.  Either physically or emotionally.

He also helps me laugh and not get too engrossed in busy things.  One must keep on eye on him at all times, less damage that way.  Hence the dog bed currently residing in the trash can, took my eyes off him for too long.  He is digging the worlds largest hole to bury his Kong in.  Helpers will dig holes to bury things in.  I'd go into depth on that but the names are being withheld to protect the innocent. He's not particularly fast, but he is consistently into mischief.  He's a juvenile delinquent in a big dog body. This too shall pass as he matures and learns the routine around here.  Okay, learning the routine will happen way before the maturity develops.

Everyone could use a helper like Wallace.  I'm pretty lucky to have this gift in my life for a while. Someone else will be lucky to have this gift for a lifetime.  All that said, do you have room in your heart for a good helper??

Old Fosters New Fosters

It's that time again...sorta.  We usually have a one foster rule here.  And, Addy is the resident foster.  She's been with us for a while, since February actually.  She is beyond the "foster" status and more like a permanent resident.  However, we still hope her forever home finds her.

So now the urge to foster another has bitten me hard.  We have the space, at least in the yard we do.  The house is another story.  What's one more for a while.  Well, one more means another life gets saved, and one also who gets the open space in the shelter.  One more means another cool dog that we get to love up on for a while. So I'm happy to announce the Wallace is coming soon.

Wallace hails from the Quincy, IL area.  He'll be our first IL foster.  Add another state to the roster bringing us up to 7 states.  Guess I have a few more states to get dogs from....  Oh honey, guess what!!

That said, kudos to Reno for never faltering when I say I want to foster.  Of course the back story is I say I want way more dogs than we ever get. Probably a very good thing.  Even so, Reno's a trooper and I love him for that.

So the journey continues, and the journey begins again.   Do you know anyone looking to adopt a dog....have I got some good ones for you!

Guest Book

Over the years I should have kept a guest book.  If I had been really organized there would be one for home guests, and another for doggie guests. Maybe the doggie one would have had more paw prints than the human version would have signatures.

Since I moved away from "home" I have a greater appreciation of guests and visitors. Not to mention a deeper understanding of home.  So we have especially enjoyed all the people who find their way to our little house on the prairie.

I have a friend who keeps a guest book...it is in the bathroom.  She figures sooner or later everyone will sit for a minute there and can sign in.  I like that idea, but don't want to copy it.  Most all who come get hugs and dinner.  I don't think it would be too much to ask for a signature or comment.  Maybe just....dang that dinner was good, or, wow you've got lots of dogs, or, pass the pie, or, you really are a crazy dog lady!  

Of course I realize you've touched our hearts by visiting, but it would be nice to see it in writing or better yet a photo journal.  Even if I never get that organized I want you to know that just by visiting you have signed the guest book in our hearts with love.  And, if you'll just give the resident doggies a treat all will be right in the world.  

Dusting

I don't know why it never occurred to me that this would happen here.  I've seen them around, you may have seen them around.  Always from a distance. Mostly I see them when I'm on the interstate and don't have time to watch the show.  I'm talking about crop dusters.  Living in the land of corn I've seen the dusters before.  Wow, look at the little plane swooping over the fields. Cool stuff.

But now I live in the middle of the corn.  It's a different story.  I experienced them up close and personal as they buzzed the house to dust the field across the lane.

Holy cow that was close!!  And exhilarating   While I wouldn't want to be in the cockpit, I loved watching them in the field, from the porch, glass of wine in hand. But, and you know, there is always a but...it got me thinking.  

We have crop dusters who dust the fields.  We have other dusters in our lives. Dog dusters who shower us with love, entertainment and fur.  Friend dusters who dust love, companionship (and giggles), prayer dusters who spray a cloud of grace over our needs.  Some dusters we can see and hear. Some thunder in, others are invisible.  They glide in and out leaving us enhanced.

Either way, in any shape, they are a sight to behold.

You're not from around here are you??

If you were asking the dogs this question I'd would always have said nope, a couple from Iowa, a couple from Nebraska, Kansas, Missouri, Oklahoma, Tennessee. Pretty much none of our dogs and foster dogs have been from around "here".

This is the first period of my life where that comment fits me. I've been told it's difficult to make friends in small towns. Heck sometimes it's hard to make friends in medium size towns and in big towns. Over the weekend we had someone ask us if we are part of the Witness Protection Program. In his mind, either serious or joking, how else would someone from Reno and someone from Omaha end up in Little Town, America. Naturally we laughed. We neither denied or confirmed the allegation. Even if we were, we couldn't admit it, and frankly not admitting it seems like way more fun.

I don't know for sure if I'll ever be from around here. It feels like home and home it will be. If they want to look at us with a question in their eyes so be it. Frankly, like the fosters, a new addition to a community is a good thing. Perhaps we can expand their horizons and they can help us establish roots in the community. Until let them wonder. I sometimes wonder myself.

Ten-a-city

I've been thinking a lot about weeds, and bugs. Strange, huh? You wouldn't think there would be much to admire about them, but there is. They are pesky, irritating, invasive, nasty, thorny and creepy. But when you get right down to it, I have to admire their tenacity. Ten-a-city....stick-to-it-iveness. They don't give up. They keep coming back, they are dedicated. If I had a dime for every fly that has bitten me lately, and two for every time I've cursed their existence, I'd be a wealthy woman. If I had a nickel for every weed that has germinated in my garden/yard/flower pot...I'd could give Bill Gates a run for his money. A weedy run, but a run just the same. So where are we going with this? It's a lesson in tenacity. When good people suffer from illness and accidents, when dogs get lost when they should be enjoying their forever homes, when all the news seems bad we must remember the weeds. When our faith is wobbly and our hopes get dashed, we must remember the fly. Sometimes we are overwhelmed and discouraged. We forget the milestones we reach, the dogs we've saved, the lives we've touched. So maybe, just maybe a seed of faith will grow and a bite of energy will spring forth. And, maybe we'll see things in a new way.

It Takes a Village

It takes a village to save a dog.  So here's to the rescues, the pilots, the foster homes, the bosses, the staff members, the puppy nanny, the adoptive homes.  

For the record, kudos to my boss for letting me bring Chukar to work with me this week.  Kudos to my staff for putting up with him.  It was tough, I know.  In an adorable puppy breath sort of way.  For the record, no poo hit the floor in the flower shop this week. 

Thank you to the shelter in KC that saved him, the pilot who flew him to Omaha, the family who kept him overnight the first night, the volunteer who drove him half way to us. Thank you to the college student who took him out twice a day so he'd be happy at the shop.  My kids never had a nanny, but this foster dog did.  Thanks to the family that lent us the x-pen and the vet clinic who shared a crate.

Thank you to Reno for the 5 o'clock am potty forays into the dark.  I had to wake Reno up, but he took him.  That works for me.  Surprisingly, Chukar's new home is about 7 miles away from us.  That makes us neighbors!  Gotta love that.  The miracle of the internet found us a local home for this guy.  

Maybe you have gotten my point.  It takes a village...and I'm proud you are my village.  Proud to be part of the village.  We saved a life.  Well done.

Cutie Patootie

God made puppies and children so stinkin cute as a method of preservation.  It's true.  They are adorable, irresistible and ornery.  Wait, am I talking puppies, children or spouses here?

Everyone says "awww, they are so cute, I wish they'd stay little like that forever". Thankfully it doesn't work that way.  Cute only goes so far without the grace of maturity.  It takes a while to get there.  Who of us isn't learning and growing?  

This little guy won't last long as a foster.  So we seize the moments of puppy breath, silly antics and soft cuddles.  All the while ignoring the razor sharp teeth and multitude of things he has yet to learn.  We pray for a wonderful forever home and a long life of joy for him.  Come to think of it we pray for those very things for our self and our loved ones.

For the record, we named him Chukar.  Naturally the usual suggestions came up...Sooner, Boomer, Boomer Sooner...I sense a trend here.  But we went with Chukar.  Seemed like a good name for a bird dog. Many don't know a Chukar is a game bird.   For a puppy his age life is a game, so fitting in that respect too.  

I love him when he's sleeping, and playing, but not so much when he climbs through the fence.  With a face like that I'll forgive him and ponder how it's possible to be so cute.   

Puppy Breath

Who doesn't love puppies??  Puppy antics, puppy cuddling, puppy breath. Sometimes you just need a puppy fix.

So...we'll be getting ours next week.  I'll be the first to say, dang puppies are a lot of work.  Which is why I also say I love those seniors.  Reno, however, adores puppies. So I know when I suggest fostering a puppy, he'll always say yes.  And, then, I'll question our sanity.  

Puppies are a short-term adventure in fostering.  He'll just get in, get settled and will be off to a forever home. Now, Layla, Mick and Addy don't know he's coming next week.  Mick thinks there is enough chaos around here with Addy & Layla.  Sometimes we need to stir things up...and what better way than with a puppy.

My only worry is the nothing else will get done while he's here.  The lawn mower will sit still, the projects will get shelved, cleaning will wait. However, the camera will get a work out!  As will little puppy teeth.  

We're lucky we can do this.  The resident pups will think they're lucky when he leaves.  And the pup?  He's already a lucky dog because he's begun his journey to a forever home.   

Going and Coming

For the first time we had a foster adopted and then returned.  After all the dogs that have gone through here we were probably due.  When you think of it that was probably the one possible scenario we hadn't experienced.  We've had them get adopted, get sick, get lost (and found), we adopted two our self, we did hospice for another.  We have a little list of ones we wish we'd kept.  We have a list of ones that we were clueless with, and ones too smart for their own good.

But this time we had one leave and less than a week later come back.  It was cause for great reflection.  How did we goof up?  All signs looked good.  But in the end it was not a workable situation for either the dog or the adopter.  In the end returning her was the best possible outcome.  

It doesn't mean we were wrong in placing her, although we will approach placing her in a different manner.  It doesn't mean the home she went to wasn't a good potential home for a dog.  Just not this dog.

We felt awful.  We considered and reconsidered our approach to her placement. Some dynamics are just impossible to see without experiencing them.   It wasn't right, and because of that she came back.

I think, no, I know she is grateful.  Gratitude has softened her, funny as that sounds. Just like it softens us.  Her forever home will find her, and until then, she is part of our pack.

  

Ticks and Other Creepy Crawlies

I surmised, when we moved to the country, that I would need to learn to live in harmony with the critters that came with the territory.  Boy was I right.  Some, like the people we meet in life, are easy to live with.  The hawks and bald eagles we have seen have been awesome.  The deer and pheasant, always a welcome sight. The wood ducks on the river, definitely reason to pause and admire.  

But, and there is always a but...the ticks make my skin crawl and the mice, in spite of a slight cuteness, creep me out as well.  However, the dogs have no aversion to either of these country critters.  Thankfully, I think, they have only brought ticks inside.  Although that is creepy enough.  

I think perhaps Addy was a cat in another life time as she is an amazing mouser. Hoping I've not insulted her talent by comparing her to a cat. Remind me to add that to her adoption profile. Twice today I've had to take mice away from the dogs.  May I just say ewwwwww.  Every time I have to do that I swear a City Girl Alert is sounded.  It's gross and disgusting...but I manage to complete the task at hand. 

It's part and parcel of rural life.  So I do it, then wash my hands and wonder how long my scalp will itch.  Again the dogs set a better standard for acceptance.  For them, it's just another day in paradise.  For me?  It's a bit of the ickies, but this too shall pass.

I'll Get You My Pretty...

I used to think when we left the house that the dogs settled in and napped the day away.  Quiet, peaceful puppies.  Gentle snoring.  Dreams of dog bones raining from the sky.  It's beginning to dawn on me this may not be the case. 

Each day when we come home the dogs go bonkers.  Barking, yelping, growling, whining, vocalizing, exclamations of canine energy.  Yes, they are exited to see us, but it is more than that. 

Layla and Addy's crates face each other.  I think they talk smack to each other all day long.  Layla probably starts with "hey bitch, you are just here temporary" to which Addy reply's "just you wait, I'm gonna take you down as soon as I get out." "Well" says Layla, "I'm skinny, so take that".  "You saying I'm fat?  I'm full figured, it's the lab in me" replies Addy.  Several times a day I imagine Mick ambles through and smirks "Ha!  Only the bad dogs have to be crated."  He knows that the slow dog is the last one out the door.  Addy will be on Layla's heels so he stays out of the melee.  All day they long they poke at each other until we roll in weary from a day at work.  

Watch out when you open those crates.  Explosions of four footed energy burst out and it's game on. For the two girls that is.  For Mick it's the sweet relief of watering the bushes and staying out of the way.  Crazy canine shenanigans.  All because someone said "I'll get you my pretty".   

Pointers Pointers Pointers

I had the opportunity to attend my first "real" dog show this past week. Granted every day with our dogs is a show of some sort.  But this show was a big one.  A National dog show featuring all English Pointers.

So here are some thoughts on it.  Wow, awesome, huge, beautiful, interesting, amusing, eye opening and did I mention huge??  Those bench pointers are huge, in comparison to the sweet field pointers we work with in rescue.  I loved it!  There is another whole dog world out there and it was a privilege to be part of it for a while.  

Now I don't show my dogs, but they show me a whole big world too.  I don't field trial my dogs, but in our fields they are winners in my eyes.  Obedience is always a hit and miss event at our house.  They keep trying to train me and I keep trying to train them.  If you ask them they are winning.  I beg to differ.

I will say the world should give out more ribbons. So many achievements are ribbon worthy.   People should definitely pet the dogs they encounter in life every chance they get. Judges probably don't know the whole story of the dogs they view and people in general should be less judgmental.   

It was great to go, an honor to meet people I've known for years in the dog world and a blessing to get there and back safely.  Makes me appreciate my doggy dog world even more.

It's Not What I Wanted.

How many times in life do we think "well, it's not what I wanted".  And at that very instant we decide we will never be happy with it.  Of course the "it" could be anything...a job, a relationship, a hair cut, a situation, you name it.

It's not like I dreamed, it's not like I asked, hoped, wished for.  Surely all the foster dogs felt that way when they ended up here.  Not that they didn't end up in a good place, it's just probably not what they may have envisioned.  Hank didn't want to be picked up as a stray, Mick didn't want to be the last of a litter who couldn't be placed in a home, Layla surely didn't want to have a chain collar so tight it had to b cut off.   We all want warm, sunny, permanent, easy, happy, rich, funny, joyful lives. Sometimes what we want and what we get aren't the same.  Sometimes we get way more than we ever dreamed, it just comes in a different package than we expected.  If we find a way to let go of the expectation we can find some unexpected beauty.

In the meantime we grow and change.  It may not be what we wanted, but embracing where we are lets in the grace.  Who couldn't use a little more grace in their lives.

I Need A Makeover

There are times a girl just needs a makeover. This is the case for Ms. Addy.  As a foster dog her complete life is a make-over.  Sometimes you have to shed the past to embrace the future.

To begin the makeover we have cast off her old collar.  Really....does a plain old brown collar do a girl justice?  It was serviceable.  No more, no less.  But did it help this little girl shine?  Not a bit.  Since we couldn't just run to the store to buy her one we did the next best thing.  We searched for a hand-me-down collar of Layla's to share with Addy.  There is something about blue and pink paisley that just makes your heart light.  Off came the old brown collar and on went the new.  A step in the right direction!

Truth be told a wider collar would complement Addy's somewhat full figured physique. But for now this will work.  A little color, some pizzazz and voila!  A new beginning.

That is just what this girl needs....  A new beginning, a new life and a new forever home.  One that recognizes that sometimes we all need a makeover.  

A Striking Resemblance

They say people resemble their pets.  In fact some do bear a striking resemblance.

I'd have to say physically I don't so much.  Except for Ms. Addy.  Finally a dog that matches my physique.  A little on the roly poly side, but very soft and cuddly.  Of course, she's part Labrador. The pointers are sleek and svelte.  I was once, for a nanosecond...no wait...that wasn't me.  The pointers are athletic and driven. Again...not so much me.  

I'd like to have the legs of a dane, the coat of a golden, and the smarts of a poodle. Egads, I just wished to be a poodle!  I'd like to swim like a lab, jump like a jack russel and run like a grey hound.  

More than likely I run like a basset, jump like an elephant and swim like a cat (only under duress).  If anything I have the mirth of the pointers.  We always say they have three brain cells and only two work at one time.  I have a few more than that and the working ratio is larger.  But they are full of life and amusing as all get out. So, if that is how I resemble them, so be it.  It would be a complement to be as goofy as Layla, and dignified as Mick.  In no particular order.  Oh wait, maybe I am.

When One Door Opens

You are expecting me to say when one door opens...another one closes.  This week we're talking doggy doors, so when one opens for Pete's sake go through it.

There has been some reluctance.  Layla and Addy were semi-willing participants - particularly when treats were involved.  Mick, however, gave me the stink eye and flipped me off.  Repeatedly.  Now I don't blame him.  Skinny opening, unknown destination.  Good likelihood of the door will swing shut right behind you.  Truthfully, my dogs don't have much experience with little tunnels out of the house, or into the house.  I bet we all have fears of new things like this.  Fear of the unknown.  It doesn't help that Mick is the least treat or toy motivated dog I know.

So we added an incentive.  For Mick it's a full bladder.  When you really gotta go, you go through scary holes in the wall to the tree's that call beyond.  If you gotta go, there is one way out.  Luckily he has willing role models.  Willing role models and a great need to pee.  

So at this point they are going in and out with an assist with the door.  Except for one boy who only goes when he really has to.  Now Layla and Addy did try to go through simultaneously.  In this case there was a will but no freaking way.  One skinny pointer and one full figured lab/pointer mix just will not fit, but it was amusing.

So we're learning new things about doors.  Good things happen when they open. Pretty soon they'll be going through like steam rollers.  Except for Mick, who will still flip me off on his way out.  

I have the cutest Dog!

It's true.  I have the cutest dog in the world.  When I write that, I speak my truth and yours.  Because you too have the cutest dog in the world.

It's a case of falling in love your pet.  Beauty is in the eye and the heart of the beholder.  Now I'm taking this whole "Cutest Pet" thing one step further.  I've entered Layla in a cutest pet contest through a regional grocery store.  You can go to www.Hy-Vee.com and vote for the cutest pet.  Layla can be found under either Nancy or aurora.  But there are scads of pets in the contest just sure to melt your heart. 

We'd sure appreciate your vote.  It's a lofty goal to win a contest like this.  It's all about connections,  voting and sharing with others who will vote too.  You can vote once daily.  It's not all about winning, although that would be a hoot.  If we were to win we'd donate that year's worth of food to Great Plains Pointer Rescue.  It's about trying and having some fun in the process.  That pretty much describes Layla - she a process and a whole lot of fun.

It is about celebrating your pet.  Something we should take time to do more of.  If you have a goofy pointer named Layla, who brings laughs every day, you just can't help thinking she's just the cutest.  That gets my vote.

Like Mother Like Son

I have to admit I have great kids.  Sure I'm biased.  Having them is my singular greatest accomplishment.  Surviving their youth is my second greatest accomplishment.  They will remember the part of life that did not include dogs.  And the part where I crossed over to the Crazy Dog Lady side. That was 15 foster dogs and 4 resident dogs ago.

It's kinda no surprise my kids love dogs too.  I'm tickled pink that my son just got in his first foster dog.  Since my daughter is his roommate she's in the fostering business as well.  No arms were twisted in this adventure.  But his heart was when he saw a scrawny pointer in need.

  

I hope he falls as deeply in love with his foster dogs as I do mine.  I hope he knows the joy of finding them forever homes.  I have no doubt he'll experience the surprise puddles and piles that come with fostering.  The occasional medical emergencies and the bittersweet pain of letting them go.  

In return he will feel the simple pleasures of seeing a dog learn about the good life. The cozy cuddling in a safe lap.  The food bowl that meets his daily needs and fills out the dogs bony frame.  The gentle hands and warm caresses.  My son will get way more than he will ever give this dog named Bo.  

To say I'm proud would be an understatement.  To say this foster dog is lucky beyond belief is not.   

Funny How You Know...

Funny how you know when something is right for you.  And, how you know something is wrong for you, or is just so-so for you.  With fosters you know right away if they are ones who tempt you so much you just want to keep them.  

Not that I don't love them all.  I do.  I just don't want to adopt them all. Not even in my wildest dreams. Sometimes you let one go that you should have kept, or get one in you know just is a temporary love.  Miss Addy is like that.  She is sweet, adorable and we won't regret when that perfect home finds her.  Some dogs are just more "dogs" than others.  Like some friends are more "friends" than others.  Some are really really special.

Okay, so maybe it's a life thing.  Certain times our heart is touched more deeply than others.  It's all good.  We need to explore the depth of our feelings.  And then other times we just know.  You know?

Settling In

Change is hard, change is good, change is scary.  Change is one of those thing we really have no control over.  It happens, like death, taxes and chocolate.  Either we consume it, or it consumes us.  Sometimes both.

Addy went through a fire storm of changes last weekend when we brought here into foster care.  It didn't matter that she landed in a soft place, at that time nothing felt right.  She responded quite like I would.  She was a little snarly and snappy.  Okay, she was really snarly.  It didn't help that Layla has the delicacy of a car full of clowns sometimes.  

She wanted in, she wanted out, she didn't want to be crated, she barked, whined and snarled.  All proper responses for the loss of every comfort she knew.

Happily she is settling in.  She is showing her playful side and finds that Layla may have some redeeming qualities after all. She found the master bed and naps there. She'll even join Mick on the bed.  After whining for a day at the audacity of him being there.  

I can't imagine adjusting as well, or as quickly, to her life changes as she has.  But then they don't hold on to injustices like we do sometimes.  They don't fuss (and cuss) at the yesterdays.  They live in today.  And for today, life is looking up.  

How Could They?

Just like that he handed over the leash and life as I knew it was over.  No, I love you girl, no be good, no I'm sorry.  I'm in a new house that is foreign with people I don't know.  I don't know where to settle or what to do.  I'm scared and I'm a bit snarly.  

I miss my kids, my routine, my other four footed friend.  The man said he hopes the other one gets to stay.  Wth?  Why not me? I whine and I bark and I'm totally confused.  

The new people say I've been rescued, but it doesn't feel that way. It is the worst thing that ever happened to me.  

~Addy

    

For The Dogs

Truth be told, we bought this house purely for the dogs.  We run it around the needs of the dogs, for the pleasure of the dogs.  This weekend we worked on the dog/mud room.  Another area simple for their comfort.  Plus it gives us hope that some day we won't fight for space on the sofa.  Because, of course, the dogs will have their own sofa.  

My son and a buddy who works construction came to help build the wall closing off part of the garage and creating the dog space.  They made a good team.  One with all the knowledge and the best tools, and two eager helpers.  Their easy camaraderie was infectious.  I was in charge of cooking for them, taking pictures, and watching the dogs.  Our two, my son's lab, and his friends two labs. The labs held the majority today.  

They were as busy as the crew in the garage and the cook in the kitchen.  Many hands make light work. Today was proof of that.  Funny how the help you needs arrives in willing workers.  And while our house is too small for five big dogs, it was fun to have them around.  Since power tools and cigars aren't my forte, thank God the dogs are!

Speaking of which, we saw a dog out on the road today.  All by itself running up E. 3 Road where it took a specific turn on North Stockham Road.  Not sure where it came from, but it sure seemed to know where it was going.  He/she was on a mission. Trucking down the road towards our little town.  I hope a warm shelter and food awaited it.  We'll never know, but we have to trust that is the case.  

I think it's better to trust that way.  Move with certainty...what you need will be waiting on the other end.

If You're Happy And You Know It Flap Your Ears

Mr. Mick would like to tell you how much he loves being in the country.  Layla would second that motion.  Sometimes I think old dogs give me the most joy, and other times I think it's young dogs.

It is one extreme to the other here with a 12+ year old and a 2 year old.  Mick could give the Earl of Grantham a run for his money in terms of decorum. Layla is so, so full of joy she can't stop wiggling.  He must surely roll his eyes at her shenigans.   She begs him to cut loose and play.

When we walk them, we're learning what their bliss is.  It is running in the fields and sniffing in the bushes.  

It's gazing into the distance and smelling the good life.  

   

It's hikes by the river. Hikes in the fields. It's walking down to get the garbage can. It is simple pleasures with a four footed friend by your side.  It's pointing something side-by-side and the glory of witnessing it.

It's pure and simple.  And Mick would tell you...if you're happy and you know it flap your ears, wag your tail, run for joy.  He would be right.

Muddy Paws

I was discussing the challenges of muddy paw days.  You know, the days it's wet, muddy and miles of  paw prints are tracked through the house. Temps in the 40's, lots of melting snow, fog and drizzle + 16 big feet traipsing in and out all weekend.  I mopped twice yesterday and once today.  It was a personal record for me.  Thankfully a little dirt on the floors doesn't keep me up at night.

I know people take time to wipe paws every time they come in.  I'm not one of them.  As many times as Layla is in and out in one day I'd never get anything else done.  If they can't wipe their own paws I'm not going to do it for them.  I will say the paw prints on my white spa robe did get me a bit riled up tonight, but c'est la vie.  Or c'est la paws.  In a perfect world there would be a magic rug that sucks the dirt off and blows them dry.  Okay, I'm dreaming here.

 

Perhaps there is a lesson in muddy paws.  They, for the most part, are not afraid to get their paws wet, or muddy.  They aren't afraid to experience all the elements.  Maybe they don't know better, or, maybe they don't care.  We could learn from that.

Paws are paws.  Wet, dry, dirty or clean.  They get them where they want to go.  They are like kids and puddles.  They just can't resist.  So, while I may gripe about the tracks on the floor.  I have to remember the paws that have crossed the bridge.  In a heart beat I'd welcome the prints of Abby, Fancy, Kobe, Mr. Hanky, Maddy, Sidney, Sophie and so many others one more time.  Into each house a little mud must be tracked.  Better floors tracked with love than spotless floors that have never been touched.

Mud can be cleaned, prints erased. Except of course, those that have touched our hearts.

Walking Partners

Roughly 13 years ago my 8 week old Labrador puppy gave me a wonderful gift.     Simply by chance, and because Abby was so stinking cute I received the gift of a girl friend.  Now, seriously, what is better than a girl friend?  Unless you are a guy and then it would be a guy friend.  It had to have been destiny.

Now we all know puppies are like magnets.  So this woman, walking by my house with her own lab, didn't stand a chance.  Karma, timing, dogs, mutual interests, and irreverent sense of humor all met in that moment.  And the rest is history.

So, over the years we walked together.  For the longest time we walked the dogs in the cemetery.  Until we got thrown out.  Lest you think it was something we did, it wasn't.  Dogs were banned from the cemetery and we lost our favorite walking spot. Then we walked the dogs at the hospital while doing pet therapy visits.  Then one of us (who shall remain nameless) had the nerve to move to the other side of town. Then to another part of the state. She had a lot of nerve I tell you.

On a visit this weekend, we got to walk again.  With my dogs, not hers, and in my neck of the woods.  But, as with good friends you pick up right where you left off. With stories and giggles, memories and new adventures.  On a gravel road and in a corn field we walked bundled up with gloves, hats and fur collars we had each purchased by chance.  Fur collars in the country, how delightfully absurd.  And deliciously warm.  Just like our friendship.