I'm fast approaching a business trip that requires me to be away from home for six days. I haven't even left yet and I'm homesick. I miss Reno, I miss the dogs, I miss my own bed.
I'll be in Dallas next week. Do you suppose there is someone there with pointers (or a lab, springer, or dobe) that would pick me up, let me play with their pups, share a bottle of wine, take me on a tour of their garden, listen to funny dog stories, and oh yes, let me love up on their pups. I don't think I'm asking too much.
I'll bring pictures of my dogs, gosh I could even be talked in to bringing my own wine. Watching Animal Planet just doesn't suffice. I want (need) some canine contact. Perhaps there is a Pet Therapy group there that would visit me! That would make me feel more at home, reduce my job stress.
Okay, maybe I'm being a baby about this. But, I don't think so. Business travel is stressful. If I could take one of the dogs with I would. Since I can't, I need to connect with a surrogate dog (or dogs) in the Dallas area. Please contact me if you know who can fill this need.
Life with dogs. A little humor, a dash of play, a seed of faith, and of course, some dog fur.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Curb Feelers
Tuesday is my feel good day. My weekday off. A catch up day if you will. I catch up on laundry, groceries, veggie out, poop scooping, chiropractor, and then do pet therapy with Mickey.
Mind you, Abby was my first therapy dog, Kobe was my second and Mick is my current one. He is rock steady on the job. Trouble is, Kobe still remembers what day Tuesday is and what the therapy vest means. I need to find a little visit he can do. He can't handle the distance walking our hospital visit requires. But his need to be social has not diminished. He soooo wanted to go today, and I felt bad not taking him.
You are wondering, no doubt, how I will segue into curb feelers. Hahaha, me too. But, let me explain. I stopped at the car wash after errands this afternoon. It was a drive through, no touch, car wash. I was longing to have my black truck back and get rid of the salty winter white splatter on my vehicle. I've been through this car wash dozens of times. So, as I'm pulling out I'm noticing my truck now makes a funny sound. Like a true female, at a stop light I roll down the window and hear nothing. Hmmmmm. As I accelerate I hear this clicking again. Hmmmm. I should have looked at other drivers to see if they were laughing their asses off. That might have been a clue. Upon arriving home I realize the clicking came from a long piece of accent trim that came loose from the side of my truck. One end bounced along the pavement all the way home. Come to find out it happened on both sides of my truck, the exact same piece, click, click, click. I must have looked like I had giant curb feelers on either side of my vehicle.
Which leads me to the following conclusions. One, I provided comic relief to hundreds, nay maybe thousands of local drivers. Or at least the 30 or so I traveled with between here and there. Two, some cars are equiped with curb feelers and you many not even realize it. Three, curb feelers can be car wash activated.
And in a sense, the dogs are my curb feelers as well. They protect me from hard spots in life and smooth my journey. Plus they don't care if I look like an idiot from time to time. I love that about dogs.
Mind you, Abby was my first therapy dog, Kobe was my second and Mick is my current one. He is rock steady on the job. Trouble is, Kobe still remembers what day Tuesday is and what the therapy vest means. I need to find a little visit he can do. He can't handle the distance walking our hospital visit requires. But his need to be social has not diminished. He soooo wanted to go today, and I felt bad not taking him.
You are wondering, no doubt, how I will segue into curb feelers. Hahaha, me too. But, let me explain. I stopped at the car wash after errands this afternoon. It was a drive through, no touch, car wash. I was longing to have my black truck back and get rid of the salty winter white splatter on my vehicle. I've been through this car wash dozens of times. So, as I'm pulling out I'm noticing my truck now makes a funny sound. Like a true female, at a stop light I roll down the window and hear nothing. Hmmmmm. As I accelerate I hear this clicking again. Hmmmm. I should have looked at other drivers to see if they were laughing their asses off. That might have been a clue. Upon arriving home I realize the clicking came from a long piece of accent trim that came loose from the side of my truck. One end bounced along the pavement all the way home. Come to find out it happened on both sides of my truck, the exact same piece, click, click, click. I must have looked like I had giant curb feelers on either side of my vehicle.
Which leads me to the following conclusions. One, I provided comic relief to hundreds, nay maybe thousands of local drivers. Or at least the 30 or so I traveled with between here and there. Two, some cars are equiped with curb feelers and you many not even realize it. Three, curb feelers can be car wash activated.
And in a sense, the dogs are my curb feelers as well. They protect me from hard spots in life and smooth my journey. Plus they don't care if I look like an idiot from time to time. I love that about dogs.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Getting Old
You know you are getting old when you wish Midnight Mass started at 10pm. When milk before bed sounds good - as long as it's got some booze in it. When someone celebrating their 32nd birthday is just a baby. When you start taking herbal supplements for joints, memory, menopause and bone support. In addition to the hand full of other pills you pop daily. When you have a child who is 25 yrs younger than you are.
Getting old kinda sneaks up on you. Although, I'm not saying I'm old, just that I am getting there. I remember when 40 was old, and now I think 40 is young. I remember when I was innocent enough to believe happily ever after happened the first time around. Now I know 'happily ever' is a life choice after all.
I remember when I held my kids hand, before long they will be holding mine. I remember when I didn't have a clue, and sometimes still find myself clueless. If I was prone to having a mid-life crisis, I'd be late for it. I'm pretty punctual, so this would be a problem. I remember when my kids had a curfew and now, I don't even want to know what time they get home, or their condition when they arrive - as long as by the grace of God it's done safely. Or with the benefit of their guardian angels.
Ah yes, I remember.....at least for the mean time I do. Although this too might change with age.
Getting old kinda sneaks up on you. Although, I'm not saying I'm old, just that I am getting there. I remember when 40 was old, and now I think 40 is young. I remember when I was innocent enough to believe happily ever after happened the first time around. Now I know 'happily ever' is a life choice after all.
I remember when I held my kids hand, before long they will be holding mine. I remember when I didn't have a clue, and sometimes still find myself clueless. If I was prone to having a mid-life crisis, I'd be late for it. I'm pretty punctual, so this would be a problem. I remember when my kids had a curfew and now, I don't even want to know what time they get home, or their condition when they arrive - as long as by the grace of God it's done safely. Or with the benefit of their guardian angels.
Ah yes, I remember.....at least for the mean time I do. Although this too might change with age.
Dog Games
Maddie's favorite game in the whole wide world is fetch. If she was male, Fetch would be the perfect name for her. She is all about the ball. All about the ball.
Sidney's favorite game in the whole wide world is Maddie playing ball. She chases and retrieves the ball, and he chases her. He not only chases, he nags, nips, barks, bumps, and races her. He's not interested in the ball. Just in messing with her. She's in her bliss, and he's an absolute pain in the pa toot!
Come to think of it, Reno's favorite game is to tease me. It's very much like Maddie and Sid playing. It's entertaining, challenging, downright amusing, and sometimes the female comes up snapping.
Kobe's favorite game is napping, resting, snoozing and farting. Once in a while he'll pick up Maddie's ball, but then is not quite sure what to do with it. Mickey digs tug-of-war. Who knew it was such a vocal game. Sometimes he'll snatch up the ball and run. He loves to be chased. But he's not a retriever by any stretch of the imagination.
My game? Well, perhaps shopping - can you say E-Bay?, writing, cooking, loving the dogs.
Games are good, some of them that is. Not so much mind games. But, dog games, I love to watch them. One minute they are total slugs, and the next it's "game on". You would never hear a dog say - I can't play right now I'm watching TV, or reading the paper, or working. We should embrace play like that.
Sidney's favorite game in the whole wide world is Maddie playing ball. She chases and retrieves the ball, and he chases her. He not only chases, he nags, nips, barks, bumps, and races her. He's not interested in the ball. Just in messing with her. She's in her bliss, and he's an absolute pain in the pa toot!
Come to think of it, Reno's favorite game is to tease me. It's very much like Maddie and Sid playing. It's entertaining, challenging, downright amusing, and sometimes the female comes up snapping.
Kobe's favorite game is napping, resting, snoozing and farting. Once in a while he'll pick up Maddie's ball, but then is not quite sure what to do with it. Mickey digs tug-of-war. Who knew it was such a vocal game. Sometimes he'll snatch up the ball and run. He loves to be chased. But he's not a retriever by any stretch of the imagination.
My game? Well, perhaps shopping - can you say E-Bay?, writing, cooking, loving the dogs.
Games are good, some of them that is. Not so much mind games. But, dog games, I love to watch them. One minute they are total slugs, and the next it's "game on". You would never hear a dog say - I can't play right now I'm watching TV, or reading the paper, or working. We should embrace play like that.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Sigh.....We Packed It Up
It was time to pack up the decorations and take down the Christmas tree. Makes me sad to pack away those special memories for another year. I love the lights, the tree, the macaroni and glitter ornaments the kids made in preschool. I love the magic, the mystery, the nativity. There is so much hope in the holiday season. I feel like we packed it all away.
Now, I know this is not the case. Still, as the naked tree stands on the patio I wonder where the season went. What season packs as much anticipation as this one? In spite of all my graces, I am having trouble shifting gears from Christmas time to normal time. Ironically, even as I make this shift in two weeks I have to go on a buying trip to buy for next Christmas. No rest for the weary (or is it the wicked?) I never can remember.
Sure there are other holidays in the offing. Although Reno says he's not shopping again until August. And I believe him. Valentines is around the corner, Ground Hog's Day, Easter, you name it - they will come.
Letting go is something I struggle with. Maybe we all do. Perhaps, in packing up Christmas, another gift in some way/shape/form will arrive. Life works this way.
Now, I know this is not the case. Still, as the naked tree stands on the patio I wonder where the season went. What season packs as much anticipation as this one? In spite of all my graces, I am having trouble shifting gears from Christmas time to normal time. Ironically, even as I make this shift in two weeks I have to go on a buying trip to buy for next Christmas. No rest for the weary (or is it the wicked?) I never can remember.
Sure there are other holidays in the offing. Although Reno says he's not shopping again until August. And I believe him. Valentines is around the corner, Ground Hog's Day, Easter, you name it - they will come.
Letting go is something I struggle with. Maybe we all do. Perhaps, in packing up Christmas, another gift in some way/shape/form will arrive. Life works this way.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Boxes
You never know when you might need a good box. That is the whole premise behind having a stash of boxes.
Maybe not everyone is like this. But I have always been a box saver (much to Reno's dismay!) You just never know....... Shirt boxes, check boxes, jewelry boxes (my favorite), shoe boxes. I mean really, how does one wrap gifts without the appropriate box?
Many of my good boxes were "deep sixed" during recent periods of home reorganization. Sure they may not have been perfect boxes anymore, but they still served the purpose. I mean, if we re gift, shouldn't we re box that re gift?
I'm on a mission to restock the stash. I scored a fabulous "catering box" at work tonight when dinner was brought in. I could do the happy dance over a good box like this. Reno indulged me, probably rolled his eyes when I wasn't looking, and didn't really share my excitement.
Someday he will delight in my stash of good boxes, just like I'll delight in his organizational skills. Even organized people need a good box from time-to-time. Good thing is, we'll be ready. Whohoo!
Maybe not everyone is like this. But I have always been a box saver (much to Reno's dismay!) You just never know....... Shirt boxes, check boxes, jewelry boxes (my favorite), shoe boxes. I mean really, how does one wrap gifts without the appropriate box?
Many of my good boxes were "deep sixed" during recent periods of home reorganization. Sure they may not have been perfect boxes anymore, but they still served the purpose. I mean, if we re gift, shouldn't we re box that re gift?
I'm on a mission to restock the stash. I scored a fabulous "catering box" at work tonight when dinner was brought in. I could do the happy dance over a good box like this. Reno indulged me, probably rolled his eyes when I wasn't looking, and didn't really share my excitement.
Someday he will delight in my stash of good boxes, just like I'll delight in his organizational skills. Even organized people need a good box from time-to-time. Good thing is, we'll be ready. Whohoo!
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Full House
I'm no poker wiz, but I believe three of a kind and a pair is a good hand. Obviously I didn't miss my calling. We had our own full house last night when we settled in for the night.
As we snuggled in, I had Mickey behind my knees, Maddie behind my back, and Reno invited Sidney up for a New Year's snuggle. He bounded up in a Pete sort of "whatcha doing, whatcha doing, whatcha doing " kind of way. He curled up between Reno and I. I'm not sure who started snoring fastest, me, Sidney or Reno. Yes, I know we were breaking the "no fosters in bed" rule. But if the Foster Dad extends the invitation who am I to cry foul?
All was good until about 3:30 am. I woke up hot, really hot, in a newly (probably) menopausal, get me out from under the blankets, who invited all the fur balls kind of way. There were blankets flying everywhere. Sidney dashed for the safety of the sofa, Mick and Maddie gave wide berth and Reno slept blissfully on. Maybe he was just pretending to sleep on, I'm not sure. Usually winters in NE require extra blankets and dogs. Not this winter, at least not for me!
I really think after men die (probably from trying to put blankets on a menopausal woman, or trying to have a rational discussion with a premenstrual woman) they should be reincarnated into woman. This way they can experience all that hormonal horror. In all fairness, women should come back as men, so we can experience all those "man things". I'm not sure it works this way, but one can dream.
I sure hope Sidney doesn't have night terrors from the sudden disruption of our happy little full house last night. And I pray his forever home includes both bed and sofa privileges. As he is learning the good life from us. If nothing else he is learning to adapt to the nuances of a female owner. We can be somewhat changeable at times - and that is the understatement of the century.
As we snuggled in, I had Mickey behind my knees, Maddie behind my back, and Reno invited Sidney up for a New Year's snuggle. He bounded up in a Pete sort of "whatcha doing, whatcha doing, whatcha doing " kind of way. He curled up between Reno and I. I'm not sure who started snoring fastest, me, Sidney or Reno. Yes, I know we were breaking the "no fosters in bed" rule. But if the Foster Dad extends the invitation who am I to cry foul?
All was good until about 3:30 am. I woke up hot, really hot, in a newly (probably) menopausal, get me out from under the blankets, who invited all the fur balls kind of way. There were blankets flying everywhere. Sidney dashed for the safety of the sofa, Mick and Maddie gave wide berth and Reno slept blissfully on. Maybe he was just pretending to sleep on, I'm not sure. Usually winters in NE require extra blankets and dogs. Not this winter, at least not for me!
I really think after men die (probably from trying to put blankets on a menopausal woman, or trying to have a rational discussion with a premenstrual woman) they should be reincarnated into woman. This way they can experience all that hormonal horror. In all fairness, women should come back as men, so we can experience all those "man things". I'm not sure it works this way, but one can dream.
I sure hope Sidney doesn't have night terrors from the sudden disruption of our happy little full house last night. And I pray his forever home includes both bed and sofa privileges. As he is learning the good life from us. If nothing else he is learning to adapt to the nuances of a female owner. We can be somewhat changeable at times - and that is the understatement of the century.
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