A different kind of resolution (for me, at least)

I have always spent the end of the old year/beginning of the new year focused on time wasted, goals unaccomplished, what I could have done better and didn't. Today, my only goal is to not do that anymore!

Seriously, in the new year I want to focus on this -

Thankful for the rain today - we need it so badly;
the wet dogs - eh, not so much

and the other faces in my household who are so dear to me. I have a strong feeling that if I can keep my focus and my intent strong, if I can really SEE what and who is in front of me at all times, then I will have accomplished the important "stuff" and the rest of my goals and wants will fall into place.

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!

Merry Christmas!

May all your wishes come true, to day and always. We had a wonderful day. It was actually a rocky beginning, but I believe we finished strong and, I hope, we laid a strong foundation for the future. I hope for each of us a bright and brilliant future, living in the present while working towards an even more amazing future.

Poor baby!

Yesterday got away from me. One of the reasons was we discovered Blue had been hiding a secret under his thick, heavy, beautiful coat - a HUGE hot spot.

So off to the vet he went. He came home with a large shaved area and he has been creeping around the edges of rooms ever since! He is so self-conscious; bless his heart.

Here's a quick shot of the area, just in front of his tail. My son's job now is to put the spray treatment on the area twice a day and then make sure he doesn't lick it off. I think it could become a temporary full time job ...

Poor Blue

For the next few days, I am going to focus on those for whom I am most thankful - my children and my dogs. I hope to get pictures of all in front of the tree. Wish me luck!

Thanks and welcome

I have a few new followers today, so I wanted to take a moment to say "thank you, thank you, thank you" for joining me on this journey. I hope I periodically write something you can use in your own life or that makes you think or gives you that "aha." Let me hear from you; a big part of this journey is learning from one another.

Until tomorrow ...

Special blessing

Last night I received a special blessing from the senior dog in the house, Blue. I will remember it for a long time to come.

Blue came to us in 2004. He is a mixed breed and we have never determined his exact breed(s), but it really doesn't matter. My son has always considered Blue his own special guardian angel, as he arrived just about a month before the kids' dad announced he was leaving. Blue saw "his boy" through the trauma of those early days, the angst of teenage years and, in August 2011, sent him off to college. Blue has always shied away from hugs or too much emotion, except from his boy. That made it even more special last night when he appeared at my bedroom door, asking permission to get on the bed as I was reading.

Once there, he sighed and lay down. He reminded me each time my hand still from petting him, a light paw on my arm. His breathing softened and evened out and, wonder of wonders, he fell asleep on my bed. This is almost unheard of, as Blue is more comfortable in his own room (my son's) or at his spot in front of the dining room window. As I read and listened to his soft breath, I also relaxed and felt the tightness of the day leave my chest.

Always ready for a treat and
counting the days until "his boy" is home for the holidays.

Thank you, Blue, for the gifts you give us each and every day.











I snapped this photo at the city lake on my way to school this morning. The mist was thick on parts of the lake; this little inlet is a spot we loved to explore as children. It's peacefulness reminded me of the serenity Blue gave me last night.

Giving Thanks

The months since a blog entry has been posted have been exciting, stressful, insightful and confusing. One lesson that keeps presenting itself, however, is the need to slow down and be present. As I wrote earlier in the year, Carson pleaded for me to slow down. Shortly after, I began another graduate program. But I have found my heart remains somewhere else - in writing and in my TTouch work.

I find myself at a crossroads, trying to learn - to understand - how to meet my goals AND provide consistent and sufficient income for myself, my children, my animals; to take care of all (including myself!) physically, mentally and emotionally and be healthy; and to do all at at a slower pace. To be present, much as Blue, Carson and Marley - my teachers - fully present in each  moment of their lives.

So as I continue to learn, I want to acknowledge the time of year and give thanks to my teachers. I am thankful for their ageless wisdom, their joy, their focus and their unwavering love.

Meet my teachers and role models: Marley and Blue on Thanksgiving Day. Our boys are keeping it real and focused in the kitchen. And Carson, our joy-filled and exuberant girl, who always reminds us to smile and laugh.