Paper Trail

My blog is a paper trail of my life. It's sometimes a slippery slope, sometimes a walk in the park, sometimes a belly aching laugh, other times a tough row to hoe, always a canine extravaganza.

Trouble is it's not really a "paper" trail, and I've been neglectful at printing it out to make it one. Case in point, I wrote a lot of blogs on another site that has since been dissolved. Hmmmmm, there is no going back. No way to get those blogs, that trail came to an end.

Rather naive of me to just assume I could always get to them. Truth be told I probably never gave it a thought. I'm like that at times. Wrapped up in the day-to-day and not thinking down the road. Rather ironic, most times we live in the future and forget the present.

Not like they are the lost art of van Gogh, or unrecorded music of Michael Jackson. They don't represent a fortune, unless somewhere down the road I hit it big. At present I'm not holding my breath.

But it makes me sad, because I should have and I didn't. And now I can't. Words on paper. My words. my trail thanks to all the experiences of dogs, life, loss, laughter and love. I'll take better care of them. Lesson learned.

Happy Tails

Waggin tails are a barometer of joy around here. Hank and Mickey's tails almost never stop wagging. And while one might think a wag is a wag is a wag, I have to say not so!

Mick's tail is like a metronome. The only place I've seen a metronome is on top of a piano. I've never actually (thank God) seen Mickey on top of a piano, but, I'm sure Mick could give the metronome a run for it's money.

Hank's tail is like a drum stick. His rule of wagging is always, always make sure the tail beats upon some type of surface. The wall, the sofa, the desk, all are good places to wag against. Thumpity, thumpity, thump, thump, thump.

Sophie's tail is an entirely different matter. Sometimes it's still tightly tucked as if she wishes to wrap her back end all the way to her front end. Other times, it's out in earnest when she's pointing at the rabbits. The best, of course, is when she's at play. When she plays, and forgets to be afraid, her tail is a hoot. Her tail proclaims "wild child". Each happy wag of her tail says "whoohoo-whohoo-whohoo"!! Watch out, stay clear, whoohoo wild child at play.

Perhaps we are all like that. Sometimes consistent, sometimes noisy, and hopefully, sometimes like Sophie. We all need those "whoohoo" moments in our life.

Will She or Won't She

Along the way we have debated if we gave Sophie the right name. Chicken Little seemed appropriate, as did MsChief. Of late, Diva, or Miss Contrary seems to fit the bill.

She is a challenge. At first all she did was hunker in her crate. Then she would come out when you weren't looking. But if you looked, she'd run for the crate. If I was in the office, she was into mischief in the front room. For a while if I was upstairs, she was upstairs. If I was downstairs she was downstairs. It took her a while to begin drinking from the community bowl. Then she learned. This week she won't go near it.

Progress with fosters is usually watching them learn house rules and basic manners. It is a series of small steps forward. With Sophie it's been completely different. I can only surmise that unlearning years of fear-based behaviors is not a predictable journey.

Last week she decided she wouldn't willingly go into her crate. This week she's decided eating in her crate is just not gonna happen. Toss in the high value treats, not interested. Last week I'd take the computer down to the front room to keep an eye on her. This week she won't leave the office.

Yup, she's challenging and she's certainly challenging our fostering skills. I have to wonder if one day she'll decide that Scary Man is the God of all that is Good in Life and I'll be Scary Woman. In a way, even that would be progress. It's hard to help her unlearn the scary things and relearn the good things. Even when she rejects the status quo she's making progress. It's just not a predictable progress. It always makes me wonder whats next. It doesn't seem to get easier with her, it just gets different.

At some point she has to find the middle ground. I hope, I hope, I hope.

How Deep Is Your Love....

I've done a lot for my two-legged kids, and my four-legged kids. Usually it involves vet bills, tuition bills, car insurance or food bills. It's what parents do. We may grumble a little, but we do it because we love them. Usually it's small sacrifices, giving up so they can have something. Going without so they can do something, putting their needs before ours. It is done in a hundred different ways on a hundred different days.

As I ponder this generosity of sacrificial love, I am thinking of a young lady I work with. Leah is a young woman challenged by Down Syndrome. Her parents love for her brings a smile to my heart. They are packing up house and home to move to San Antonio so that Leah can be closer to her beloved boy friend. For them it's a gift of love, not a sacrifice. That's not to say it's an easy choice for them. But, they have placed her joy in the forefront. In return, her happiness gives them happiness.

Many of us give wholeheartedly. Most people never know how much we give up for those we love. For us, and people like Leah's parents, its a small price to pay for a happy heart.

New Directions

Every so often we switch directions. Sometimes by choice, sometimes by chance, sometimes because we just have too. Many times we drag our heels, or put it off as long as we have too. Often when we unclench our teeth and release our death grip great things happen.

Rescue is like that. We get a dog in, we fall in love, we find them a home, and we let them go. We learn with them, we laugh with them, we cry when they go. They move on, and we never forget them.

Adopting Mickey got me started with Pointer Rescue Organization. He was nine months old and now he's going on 8 yrs old (I think - math is not my strong point). Time flies when you are raising kids and helping dogs. Pointers have opened more doors for me than I could ever count, if I could count that is.

Now we are going another new direction. On the journey we will embrace another whole pointer family. New licensing requirements by the state of NE for rescues are causing Pointer Rescue to suspend fostering activities here. Great Plains Pointer Rescue, a licenced state run rescue organization, is taking Sophie and I under their wing. As they say "bird-dogs of a feather must stick together". GPPR specializes in German Shorthair Pointers & Their Cousins. I sure hope we can be a favorite cousin. I will foster Sophie for GPPR and Sophie gets her profile on their website, and as a referral on Pointer Rescue's website. Double the exposure for her - that's a win-win situation.

I will still assist Pointer Rescue as I am able by being a blogging pointer advocate, as the Incoming Dog Coordinator for IA, WY & UT, with fund raising and poking pointer fun every chance I get. I figure I'll have twice the doggy family to bless my doggy-dog world.

New directions expand our world. Hello pointer world....we're ready if you are.

Things - people, dog and otherwise

Sometimes we forget some important things. Like that we are vibrant, strong, confident women. It still stresses me to go to family events where my exes family will all be there. Individually, they all hug me and we are delighted to catch up with one another. En mass, I get the willies and have to psyche myself up for those events. Silly, yes. Unnecessary, totally. Fact of life, uh huh. Even though I detest the phrase "it is what it is", that sums up this situation. So I take some extra time with my make up,hair, accessories, clothes, and then remind myself, I am good enough just the way I am. I am, I am, I am!

A bit about the dogs. Does anyone have dogs who graze in their patio pots? I learned long ago never to put lantana in my low pots. It only goes in the hanging baskets. Mr. Mick seems to have a taste for that, occasionally some zinnia's and now I've discovered he likes salvia. Hellooooo, get thee nose out of my patio pots you little bugger.

I've also noticed that when Mr. Hanky snuggles up next to me he purrs. Rather an odd thing for a dog to do, but completely endearing. He does it very softly, because I'm sure if the other dogs heard him he'd be teased insufferably. Bliss does have distinct sounds and Hank's purring is one of them.

It was brought to my attention that if we were naming Sophie right now, the name MissChief would be a good one for her. Truthfully, she's finding her way, building her confidence and testing us in the process. She reminds me of Sidney. It was always a challenge to get him crated. She has decided to crate up when she wants to, not on command. So it's a physical task to crate her. It's much like stuffing sausages. You have to line her up just so, move her gently yet firmly into her crate. Which reminds me to try sausage as a treat for her. We have yet to find any treat she is just gaga over. As someone very treat motivated myself I find this hard to fathom.

So there you have it. It's all a matter of confidence, faith, trust, treats and some flowers to make pretty the way. That is if Mick doesn't eat them all first. And, bliss, they say to find your bliss. I say listen for it too, it's a sweet purring sound that sometimes comes from unexpected places.

Peace in the Garden

Every year I have the opportunity to plant patio pots for a friend of mine. Truthfully it's a bit like landscaping in the Garden of Eden. It feels like Eden. With the patio surrounded by dwarf lilacs in bloom, it smelled like it. There is a water feature, so I worked to the sound of water trickling. I should almost pay her to let me do the work for her.

And, yes, there are dogs. It was a hard winter for them too, with the loss of their English Springer Spaniel. Planting was just not the same without Toby constantly dropping a tennis ball into the pot I am planting. I don't mind interruptions like that. We should all be open to playing at the drop of a hat (or ball) just that easily.

Thinking of her pots reminds me of Pete. I was finishing up that planting project several years ago when his new owners flew out to meet him. Some people measure time by years, I do by dogs.

One really can't ask for better working conditions. Flowers, dogs, quiet, the music of water falling, fragrance. Ah, the process of planting. All manner of growth can come from that. And it does......