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.