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.
Life with dogs. A little humor, a dash of play, a seed of faith, and of course, some dog fur.
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Sunday, November 3, 2013
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.
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.
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