(Nearly) Wordless Wednesday

Celebrating the holidays, time together, rest and relaxation - and trying to keep the cold away!

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!

Summer priorities

We have been noticeably absent/quiet/whatever here in the past six weeks or so. We are making plans, setting priorities and, in general, enjoying life with the "last" teen at home before she leaves for college in mid-August. We are also working on training, spending lots of time together just "being," and thinking about how we want to spend the rest of our lives. It doesn't leave much time for writing, although I do think about it often.

We plan to be back by the end of August, but probably not before then. Lots is happening, so we will have much to write about! To contact Paula or the pups between now and then, please write to us at blkntan@mac.com.

Woof!

Saddest dog ever ...

My son returned to college this morning, after just arriving back home from a week at his father's last night. Blue was SO HAPPY to see him, then promptly fell into a state of moping as items began streaming from the bedroom to the car. The energy coming from Blue was clear: "You told me you were staying with me a while and now you are already leaving again. I don't like this."

It makes me sad, but I don't know what to do - or how - to help Blue over these humps. About the time he really settles into a rhythm, the boy comes home again for a day or a few days. Blue is ecstatic and gets into a groove. Then he's gone again. I try to tell him, to explain to him, but there isn't a schedule and he simply doesn't understand why his boy has to be gone so much. It makes my heart hurt for him (and for me, if I'm honest). I need to ponder it some more and try to figure out how to ensure our reigning senior citizen understands and accepts that this is how life is now.

Poor guy!

My greatest teachers - a look back

Dogs have always been a part of my life, even though I didn't always fully recognize the fact. We had multiple dogs when I was a child - always "outside" dogs, once inherited with a house we bought or often brought home by my younger brother. If the weather was particularly cold, we would bring them inside but they were rarely comfortable there, standing by the door, anxious to return to their own part of our universe. Most of these dogs were terrier-mixes of some sort, although there was a blond cocker. Trixie, Taffy (the cocker), Missy, Shorty - they were just always there. Even in the years since I left home there has always been a dog at my parents' home. I learned well.

And so dogs became a part of my life as an adult and still I didn't realize the connection. Even so, their lessons were constant and lasting.

Mattie Rae. My Airedale. She came to us as a 14 month old youngster, having spent most of her days crated. She was sensitive and a quick learner. She was also stoic and a good teacher. Once, when the children had pushed a "final" button, Mattie calmly stepped between them and me. She never moved, she never flinched. But she calmly looked at me and stood her ground when I would have erupted, as if to remind me to take the time and space to calm myself. Mattie never thought of herself; she always tried to make life simpler. Even when she went to the Rainbow Bridge, 13+ years old and battling lymphoma, she waited until she was at the vet's office and then passed on during the night. I will never forgive myself for not being with her, although I know in my heart it was to save me the anguish of seeing her slip away. Her gift, however, was to visit me in my sleep that morning, to run the fields of my mind as I took a walk, and to send a beautiful red dragonfly so I would know that while change is inevitable, re-birth and growth are always available to us. She was indeed the greatest of terriers.

Blue Monster Max. My first Welsh and my personal introduction to puppy mills. Max was born on January 1, 1992 and lived up to his name admirably! My son was born in December of the same year and so felt a special tie to Max. It was in trying to give Max a better quality of life, health-wise, that I first discovered alternative/natural healing, bodywork, and all the associated paths I have traveled in the years since. Without Max, well, the path would certainly have been different.

Hollis Haven's Brodrick (Brody). I will never forget traveling with my son to Pine Bluff (AR) for a dog show on a cold February weekend. He had been devastated at losing Max, his first such loss. A dear friend arranged for us to bring home an 8-month old Welsh Terrier, although my son didn't realize that is why we were making the trip. On Saturday morning she plopped Brody on a grooming table and, with a crowd of people around, ask my son if he wanted to take him home. The look on his face makes me cry even now, more than ten years later! Brody became my sidekick, however, although he loved both the children. Without him, I am not sure I would have survived the divorce years. In hindsight, I wonder how much of his health mirrored my own. I wonder if he took on some of the challenges that would have done me in completely. I do know we lost him far too soon, only six months after his ninth birthday. His small body simply could not take any more health setbacks. And the lessons I learned from Max - to well and truly ask and trust my dog and to never allow your own guilt and wants to overshadow their suffering and wellbeing - meant I had to stop fighting and allow him to go.

Sully is the rescue I mentioned in yesterday's post. Sully reminded me that every dog cannot be saved, by sheer force of will or otherwise. As I was thinking through this writing I remembered all the times he asserted his authority, sitting next to my face on my bed. Sully had a lot of good in him, but the demons were stronger.

Sailaways Blue Norther (Carson). The light of my life. Brody's health concerns and illnesses were hard on all of us. When a friend called me to offer one of a two-girl litter - Kit and Carson. Carson, she said, was the gentlest of the "evil twins," and she knew we needed a respite from having had two high-maintenance Welsh Terriers in our home over the years. Carson is sheer joy and happiness, constant motion (she loves to spin like a top - always in a counterclockwise direction!). She is a destructo-dog, chewing up anything and everything with a speed nearly impossible to comprehend. She rarely stops until she is exhausted - and it takes a lot to exhaust her. She tries (not always patiently) to remind me daily to slow down and appreciate the here and now.

Marley arrived in the weeks after Carson came to live with us. As I mentioned yesterday, he stole our hearts and always has a place in our home. There have been so many rescues over the years who also had lessons and wisdom to offer. I was rarely listening, particularly in the early days. But I think back on them now and realize each of them had a gift they left with me, and they were willing to entrust that gift to me until I was willing or able to open and learn from it. I give them my heartfelt thanks now and every day.

This year, during the cold dark days between Christmas and the New Year, I have chosen to reflect and remember all the dogs whose paw prints have left their marks, to thank them for their gifts and to incorporate their teachings into my plans for the future.

Carson gives love freely and often. I am thankful
to be a frequent recipient!

A rare still moment - but she always makes us laugh.

Still thankful

Hard as it is for me to believe, my "baby" will graduate from high school in just a few months. Bless her heart, she is far too much like her mother - stubborn, hard-headed, independent. It is hard for her to ask for help and even harder for her to accept it. I adore her with every fiber of my being!

She is also the peace maker - concerned that her brother and I clash so often. She doesn't want to make waves and is tightly-wrapped, always in control. These are not always good qualities, as she tries so hard to not make waves. I am not proud to have contributed to these qualities but hope we can - together - soften the edges in the short time we have left together.

My daughter can do anything she sets her mind to; I have seen this as she has grown. She has pulled herself together when it would have been easier to crumble when she was no longer the focus of her father's attention. She has faced criticism and disbelief to become not only a damned fine percussionist, but a talented marching snare drummer and a two-year drum line section leader. She has a heart of gold and a will of steel.

Two years ago, a rescue dog we were fostering attacked her on a cold Sunday night in February. She calmly called me for help and then begged me not to put him down (I did). We still mourn Sully and we both still carry the physical scars of his final attack. She is strong and she is beautiful and she is committed to helping others, regardless of species.

A year ago, we brought home another rescue boy. Named Jacob Marley for the holiday season, he wiggled and snuggled his way into our hearts. By summer's end, we knew he was here to stay. He sleeps nightly on my daughter's bed, taking up as much or more space than she takes up; he is her special protector, much as Blue protects her brother.

"A girl and her dog."

This Christmas season, I want to tell her "thank you" - for being my child, for gracing me with her life and laughter and love. And for showing me each and every day what it means to be strong and feminine and a woman of character. It has been a wild ride thus far but my children and dogs keep me grounded. And they are teaching me to live in and appreciate the present for the gift it is (although I am admittedly a very slow learner!).

Christmas thankfulness

We spent a relatively quiet Christmas Day with the kids and the dogs and my parents. My son and I agreed that even though it's been eight years, we are all still adjusting to our new definition of family, post-divorce. For him, "family" just doesn't have the same meaning when he has to divide his time and thoughts between households. And I am, at the moment, stressed out at the thought of the children getting on the somewhat icy roads to travel from here to the Dallas (TX) area to spend the next week with their father. I am obsessively checking road conditions and praying the temperatures keep inching higher. Roads are pretty much normal here, but are more icy and treacherous south of Oklahoma City and into north Texas.

Yesterday, however, we managed to live in the present (perfect for Christmas, don't you think?). I am so very thankful to have both my parents with us - they are 90 and 91, so it is a special blessing - and we had a joyful celebration full of conversation, food and some NBA basketball. Before opening gifts, however, I wanted to take pictures of the children with their dogs. I present the loves of my life and my reason for being today and tomorrow:

Post-wrestling match on Christmas morning

The merriest of Christmases ...

My goal for the coming year is to help us all find a comfortable meaning for family, to relax into that and to consciously be what one another needs. My children have spoken clearly that this is what they need from me, as opposed to working more and being home less. So that is what we will do. Pray for us!

Tomorrow: A girl and her terrier and how being the quiet child makes it hard to be noticed!

Second place

I have been relegated to second position in Blue's hierarchy of human love. I wrote last week of the sweet evening of mutual admiration, when he lay by me as I read. He relaxed and slept. I relaxed and remembered how to breathe deeply.

Then, on Friday night, my son came home from college.

Yes, friends, that was all it took. In just these few days, I may be good for food and water or for a quick pat. But Blue only has eyes for his boy now. He can't be bothered to get up to go outside - unless his boy asks him. He happy dances - only for his boy.

What the heck?! On the other hand, that is just how it should be, isn't it? It warms my heart to see their close bond and know they always have one another's back. They don't even have to be in the same room, but their closeness is palatable. It is, indeed, a happy holiday season for one special Blue-dog.

How do they know?

My son travels home from college today for the Christmas break. I have been telling Blue for several days that his boy is coming home soon and I reminded him yesterday when I told him good night. This morning he was perkier than I've seen him in quite some time, almost like he was quivering. I told him the boy was coming home today and he did that little prance-thing he always does when he's waiting to be fed. He will be so happy!

Their own special language going on the end of this past summer.