Basset Hound Days

Most days my approach to life is entirely similar to Vegas. "Oh my gosh!!! Is that you??? I am so glad to see you!!! I have missed you sooooooo much!!" (Vegas to a complete stranger). We rejoice in dawdling, discovering a leaf in a basket of leaves, having a gentle hand pat our head (not kidding here). The cooler autumn winds are pushing the leaves about in the trees and the Wind is talking up a storm through the branches. The cardinals seem just a little hungrier than normal.

But yesterday was not a Golden Retriever day. On these sad days, I am channeling the Basset Hound - sad, sad, sad. Are Basset's ever happy? My Auntie Vera had one named Huckleberry which inspite of the happy name did not make it a happy looking dog. They are the Eeyore of the dog world. "Oh Bother.." A good cry is sometimes all it takes to get us to the next step.

Let us embrace these basset hound feelings and know that they are just a symptom of a world gone mad.

Love in a Pack

I woke up an hour early in anticipation of an alarm that was going off two hours earlier than it has been going off (back to the gym after a three week hiatus). I hate when that happens! I tossed about, planning the day in my head which never lends itself to going back to sleep. And then I looked over at Vegas & Molly.

Molly was asleep in the crook of my arm, exhausted from Sunday's Big Swim Day. Vegas was asleep, next to Molly, kicking like no one's business, clearly resolving subconcious issues of tennis balls left behind. The two of them were side by side, back to back, heart to heart.

I realized in that moment that they have not only rescued me, they have rescued each other. When they first came together they shared space and a benign tolerance of each other. Vegas had a wait and see attitude and Molly was fearful and unsure. I'm not sure how it happened, but a pack was born.

It's better in a pack.

The Closing Balls of Summer

When I saw the Chrysanthemums at the grocery store I was a little sad. They are a sign that our sweet Midwest summer is coming to an end. My friends who still go to school are now back in school. I miss going to school - the new outfit for the first day; the rubber smell of the new tennis shoes; the new book bag.

With the closing of summer comes the closing of the city pools. When the city pool in town closes, on its last open weekend, it gives itself up to the dogs - literally. For a small fee and proof of vaccinations, the dogs run and swim with complete freedom.

It is one of my most favorite days. The pool is full of tennis balls, scores and scores of them. Our Molly and Vegas chased the balls, swam in the deep end and never stopped smiling. I threw a tennis ball for Vegas and the black labrador went after it. No worries - Vegas gets the one belonging to the cream colored Golden Retriever puppy. All the puppies are friends.

The dogs this evening are curled up in their spots. Molly's soft ears are getting a rub down as her tired head leans in to the soft, yellow blanket. She lets out that dog groan that signifies complete satisfaction.

Vegas is curled up behind the chair, on the floor, in one of her caves. I can hear her legs kicking the wall as she dreams of the hundreds of yellow tennis balls.

A warm, cozy blanket and dreams coming true - what a great day. I hope your tomorrow is as good as our today.

Good Dog

Have you seen the movie "Up" yet? It is a great Pixar movie that works on so many levels. I love, love, love this movie. In the movie is a dog, named Doug, who is more Golden Retriever than anything else. At one point his would-be master turns to him and says, "Bad Dog!" and Doug slinks away, tail between his legs.

What is interesting that in this house, our Golden Retriever does not know "Bad Dog" or "No". Whenever either of those expressions have been used, you might as well be saying, "You want a treat?" or "Go for a ride?" because they are received with enthusiasm, dog wags and general joy. Therefore, I'm sure Vegas has no self esteem issues and like Mary Poppins, believes herself to be practically perfect in every way.

Molly on the other hand learned "Bad Dog" somewhere in her distant past and will tuck her tail, roll her ears back and look like she's done something really heinous. Someone convinced her that she was bad and she owns it whenever you look at her with any serious expression. Therefore, we try to only ever be positive. This can be challenging when coming home and realizing she has scarfed three dozen homemade cinnamon rolls.

I am trying to be less like Molly and more like Vegas. I am trying to ignore the small but loud inner voice that tells me I'm bad for eating the chocolate or bad for missing a deadline.

I came in tonight and Vegas looked at me from across the room, ran to her toy bucket and pulled out a much loved and used stuffed mallard toy. She brought it to me and I praised her for such a wonderful gift. She then danced up and down, spun in circles and urged me to throw the gift.

"The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart." 1 Samuel, 16:7

Just like Vegas.

The Hidden Beast

Our Molly is a rescue, as you know. She is a yellow Lab from all appearances. The Vet upon first examination hypothesized that she most likely was a hunting dog because she had her dew claws removed, a BB pellet under her right eye and had been previously fixed. I say previously because she was made to go under this indignity twice.

If in fact she was a hunting dog, I understand why she was found wandering the farmland of Iowa. She will go on point (like a hunting dog, not a ballerina), she will flush out birds, and track down any small creature in our yard. However, her game is keep away, not retrieve. I imagine she was hunting with her hunting person and found something interesting and just kept running.

Yesterday I was at a dear friends and she welcomed both myself and the girls up for a pizza night with her children. I was unsure how the night would go because they have a new kitten. Molly and Vegas take great pride and pleasure from chasing cats in our backyard, protecting us from eminent harm. We arrived at the house and the young kitten was being held by one of the girls. The dogs sniffed and moved on - no big deal. They were off to smell, play, romp. We sat at the table eating pizza, big dogs and little kitten under the table, the lions and the lamb.

After dinner we played some wii. Molly began sniffing around the dining room table. I had no concern because she had laid next to the cat during dinner. All of a sudden, "woof, woof, woof" she is cornering the sweet kitten as if the kitten had revealed that in fact she was a terrorist (which will all know is true). "Woof, woof, woof!!!!" and the dining room table is rocking and the kitten is in full arched back Halloween pose as Molly channels her full Cujo inner beast.

"No!!" I say with complete authority.

"Just kidding!" Molly says as she wags her tail, puts her ears back and smiles at me. She moves on and the game is over.

She, as my Mother says, is a Dickens. Life is all the more sweeter with her in it. A smidgen scary some times, but definitely sweeter.

Dedicated to Lucy.

One Day at a Time

I lean down to the dogs today to listen to the message of the Rescue Girls. I believe that God whispers through the dogs sometimes. I also believe that if you stand next to a tree and close your eyes and listen to the wind move the leaves, you can hear the voice of God. I'm sure some would lock me away for this but I like to listen for God. I find God in the smallest of places and the smallest of moments. It is always a joy.

I listen intently tonight and ask for guidance. I hear, "One Day at a Time - watch Vegas" and I am reminded that Vegas does not worry about her next day, her next month, how she is going to get the bills paid, the project done, she simply is in the moment, soaking up the sun or chasing a squirrel.

I hit a dog last night on my way home from work with my car. It had broken its chain and ran out under the back wheel of my car. It did not survive. The dog was loved by a young family with three small children. My heart is breaking wide open.

I lean into Vegas and she kisses me with her big, pink tongue.

It will be ok.

Angels

Vegas and Molly are healthy and strong. They are sleeping at my feet as I write.

I met a dog today who was sleek of coat and loved dearly by a young family. Her name was Mercedes.

In loving memory.

Summer Love

As we get older, a chore I prefer to ignore most days, one of the things I notice most is how fast time passes. I notice this most in the faces of the children and dogs I love most. They age whereas in my mind, it has all stopped. It is exciting to watch the baby become a young girl and then the young girl become a teenager. Well, most moments it's exciting. I think to myself, "Oh this is the best age because..." and fill in the blank. They are all so good.

Molly the yellow lab is in the process of forgiving me for abandoning her for the past week. This forgiveness is in the form of maintaining a six inch distance from me at any given moment. Additionally, while typing on the computer, she places her cold nose under my elbow and flicks my arm in an up and down motion. "I am here!!!" She says. "Look at me!" I do. "Ok - I'm good" she responds and goes to lie down. Repeat this cycle every ten minutes.

Vegas on the other hand is in heaven. We retrieved her big memory foam dog bed (her mattress is better than mine, as it should be) from storage and placed it in the basement next to my desk. It is nice and cool down here. She snuggled up in her big, red bed and has slept for the last three hours.

I love to be with my family. I have amazing parents and brothers who love me unconditionally. I have extended family all over this country and friends that I have adopted as family. Whenever I am away from my family, I am a little lost, looking for that bit of myself that I know will always be loved.

And then the dog comes, looks me in the face, and I know I am found, I know I am loved and it is all okay.

I am home. Again.