Presence

I was reminded today that life is short and that we too often work - or wish - away our time here. It isn't always that we want time to go faster; sometimes we are so caught up in the moment and still not present in it. We are caught in the stuff and not in the living.

There are those who would say animals are less encumbered by higher-level thinking and that is why they live in the moment. More and more research proves just how highly intelligent animals are, proving what those who live with animals have always known. But, somehow, animals simply do not seemed concerned about much outside what is happening RIGHT. NOW.

It is cold and windy again today, but the sun is shining. I took a short drive at lunch and just let the warmth of the sun touch my skin. I thought about those whose paths I once considered lined with gold and how their journeys are not without some pretty wicked twists and turns. I thought of how all the dogs I am blessed to know are present in each and every moment, whether chasing a ball or chewing up the sandstone in the backyard. (ugh!)

Each of us in given a gift. So many gifts - life, love, laughter - maybe not in the amount or the time frame we would wish, but it truly is there for the asking and for the taking. But we do have to take that gift, accept it, for the presence and the present to be ours.

Mud dogs!!!

We have had a couple of days of rain here in northeastern Oklahoma. The moisture is very welcome, what with a couple of years of drought and all. It will take a good amount of time and rain for the water tables to refill, even though the past few months have been "wetter" than normal AND the Farmer's Almanac is calling for a wet winter:

          "Winter temperatures will be slightly colder than normal, on average, 
          with precipitation and snowfall a bit above normal in Oklahoma and 
          north of the (D/FW) Metroplex." 
          (www.almanac.com/weather/longrange/zipcode/74010)

So it's all good, right? Mostly. Rainy weather means the dogs can't (or won't, in Blue's case) spend as much time outside, getting fresh air and exercise. It also means the one who adores the rain (Carson) spends more time in her crate drying off. I was thinking about all that in the morning when I decided the terriers needed some running around time in the yard as I got dressed for work. Moments later, I began to hear the banging noises. Getting closer to the back door, the noise seemed to be shaking the entire sunroom. Open the door, call the dogs. Nothing. Nada. Grab a jacket and head out: There they are, in all their glory. Up to their eyeballs - no exaggeration - in heavy, wet, Oklahoma red clay with a bunch of torn-up grass thrown in for good measure. Trying their best to dig under the lattice surrounding the sunroom. Their goal (prey)? Probably toads or field mice. They tend to ignore the toads who perch on the steps on late summer evenings but maybe the allure of digging for them is just too much to resist.

By afternoon, when these photos were taken,
the sunshine made them a little less "huge."

 Of course, all this happens when I need to leave for work in, oh, say, five minutes!



Race inside, grab a towel and slip into garden clogs. Hope the jacket will somewhat protect my clothes.

Evidence of Marley's participation
in the digging!

Marley is easy. Offer him a treat and he's willing to give up on the digging. I wrap him in a towel and hold him - feet facing out - as far from my clothes as I can. Bonus: let's consider this a workout for my biceps! 

Carson, of course, isn't so easily swayed. Her entire nose is covered in clay. It's hanging from her ears, her furnishings, her tail (how did that happen?). And it's a game. Get within two inches and she takes off at a full run. I remind myself I adore her, keep from looking at my watch to see how late I now am, consider my wet hair will only get more curly standing in the rain, and take a deep breath. Several minutes later, she is mine. Yay! Sorta ... My black and tan terrier is now a definite shade of barn red and smelly - wet dog, wet earth, WET. I carry her the same way as Marley and toss her into her crate, hoping she keeps at least some of the drying clay inside the crate during the day. I close the back door and head to school.

A little aside about Carson: She tends to get distracted and forget what is important (to me, obviously, not to her). When I return home after work, her crate not only has dried clay, is also has a little gift since she forgot to "take care of business" while she was busy digging to the other side of the county. Sigh ...

The next half hour was spent cleaning crates. This is the view from inside Marley's crate, as I was wiping up dirt. On a positive note, dirt doesn't usually "stick" to hard terrier coats; it tends to dry and end up on the floor. I'll spare you a glimpse at Carson's crate, however!








In the afternoon sun, the culprits were happy and playful. I filled in the holes as best I could (what, exactly happens to dirt that there is never as much to put back in a hole? I will never understand that!).

You can see from this photo that Marley is just happy to have me home, to be out in the sun and is secure in the knowledge that the treat wagon will soon visit. The ringleader, on the other hand, wouldn't stay away from her beautiful creations, so she was relegated to "hard time" in the run. I don't know about you, but I honestly don't see one smidgen of remorse on her face!

The next few days are supposed to be dry and sunny, which will give the ground a chance to dry out. I can only hope we won't repeat this scenario too many times during the months ahead. Happy Friday and a wonderful weekend to all.

Homecoming

My daughter is away at college for the first time so, most days, it's just the dogs and me at home. I didn't tell them she was coming home for a visit over the weekend. Their joy when she walked in the door made my heart smile. It was a weekend of cooking and visiting and canine snuggles. Any time she was close to the dogs, it looked something like this:

Cara walks in the door &
Marley recognizes her.

Much licking & many kisses commence.

Marley (left), Carson
(center & looking at the camera) & Blue line up for attention.

Blue gets into the act.

All weekend, wherever Cara was, at least one dog was close at hand. Of course, the fact she spent much of the weekend cooking likely had something to do with that.

All of them benefited from the closeness, I think. She wanted - and needed - the personal connection. Marley slept with her at night and stayed close whenever she sat down. Blue and Carson made sure they got their "fair share" as well. Another few weeks and she will be home for the holidays. EVERYONE is going to be happy about that!

Mindfulness and dogs?

I just read a blog post over at Stream of Consciousness about eating mindfully and being thankful for what I/we/you have. And it made me think: do my dogs - or any dogs - eat mindfully?

Honestly, I cannot think that any of my dogs are especially mindful when eating. Perhaps it is a trait particular to humans. Or maybe Carson's methodical attention to her food is mindfulness of a different kind. I do think they are joyful. And grateful. Blue has always danced (pranced, really) while waiting for his bowl. He seems to believe he will never eat again - either that or he can't remember the last time he ate! Whichever, it has his complete attention and is gone almost immediately (and no, the bowls with the knobs don't help, even the smaller size so he has to work harder).

The sheer joy the dogs find in eating is wonderful. And I know I need to be more mindful. Seven years at a high school have taught me to eat quickly and simply for fuel. But the dogs of the Wild Bunch household show me each day that thankfulness for the food we are given is ongoing. And good.