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.
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
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.
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.
