Paw Prints

“People leave imprints on our lives, shaping who we become in much the same way that a symbol is pressed into the page of a book to tell you who it comes from. Dogs, however, leave paw prints on our lives and our souls, which are as unique as fingerprints in every way.” 

Ashly Lorenzana   

It’s been a long week filled with moments of sadness intermixed with hours of numbness.

I’ve definitely been taking my little world for granted. The unexpected loss of our Duffy caught me off guard.

The house remains unnaturally quiet. I had not recognized what an instigator Duffy was or how much his whole spirit filled up a room. The void he left is immeasurable.

I have been surrounded by those who love me. I’ve been showered with kind words and deeds. I am humbled and grateful.

I have been reminded how important it is to be kind. I see there is no right or wrong when it comes to being kind and expressing sympathy. I know the most important thing is to just show up–in whatever way you can find to do so.

Our little house on the hill has lost its Prince. Across the land, smiles and tails are at half mast.

We are a hardy lot.

The remaining little pack is tight and exceptionally tolerant of each other right now. I think we feel the need to stay close–so we are doing just that.

“The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same nor would you want to.” 

Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

I am…

B…simply being.

~May God bless us all with peace.~

My Teacher

“The best thing for being sad,” replied Merlin, beginning to puff and blow, “is to learn something. That’s the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then — to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the only thing for you. Look what a lot of things there are to learn.” 

T.H. White, The Once and Future King

My mind has been filled with thoughts of my Duffy for the past few days. Most of them are happy thoughts. The ones that are unhappy revolve around feeling I did not spend enough time with him.

I always thought I had more time.

My precious Duff may be the one who finally helps me understand time is never promised. It’s up to us to grab onto every single minute and be in that moment. Let go of the yesterdays and give all the worries about tomorrow to the Universe. Be aware of the present and wallow in it.

He taught me so many other things.

He taught me it’s okay to ask for help when you’re scared. He was our early storm warning system. When a storm was on the way he wanted to be close to us. Once he had that connection, he relaxed and let the storm pass.

He showed me examples of trust every single day. He simply knew those who loved him would always catch him if he missed a jump, grab him before he slipped off the couch, or make decisions in his best interest.

Even when he was not feeling well–he could not have been feeling well for some time–he always made his s-ing type maneuvers and instigated all kinds of disruptions with the other dogs. There was not many quiet moments here with the Duff around. It is extremely quiet today.

He loved everyone he met but he lived to sit on Michael’s lap. Those lap visits were full of huge hugs while nudging Michael’s hand for more and more pets. There were never enough hands on this little man.

As each day goes by, I see more and more things he taught me.

As of now, some of the most valuable lessons are:

There is nothing more important than spending time with those you love. Nothing. Do whatever you have to do to get their attention–do figure eights and wind yourself around their legs if you have to in order to get their attention.

Be vocal and tell those you love you are excited to see them. I miss his little howls of joy whenever we all climbed out of bed in the morning or met each other at the door later in the day. He was happy to see us and he let us know it.

Remember the work–whatever that work may be–will be there tomorrow or the next day. Sit down, stretch out, and share your space with those you love. Regardless of whatever else may be going on in your space, ignore it so you can give extra big hugs to those all around.

If someone is unhappy with you, go to your favorite spot and stay there until they forget about it. When you come back in, come back as though nothing has happened. A little joyful howl upon entrance is a sure bet all will be forgiven.

Above all else, hold your head up high and know you are worthy of all good things. You are a prince/princess. Turn your back to the negatives and let them pass. God’s got this and He has it all in control.

I know I was fortunate to have had him in my life.

Monday he took a giant piece of my heart with him but left me with even more love and hundreds of memories. I know, as time goes on, I’ll be comforted by them. These little gifts, all gifts that reflect the cleverness of Duffy, will allow me to heel…pun intended.

I am…

B…simply being. 

~Peace~

 

 

The Unexpected

“The expected always happens” 

Benjamin Disraeli

It was the coolest morning we’d had in weeks. A great day to take the dogs for a walk.

All of us were excited–it’s been hard on us–we all LOVE our daily walks.

The five of us are quite a sight, meandering back and forth across the narrow streets of our subdivision. This morning in particular we were all looking around at the changes that’d happened since we’d walked last–all those new smells had three canine noses pinned to the ground.

We’d gone about half a block when I noticed our Tibetan Terrier, Ruby, was on the trail of something especially interesting. Her nose was quickly scanning the area but came to an abrupt stop. She cocked her head to the side and shook it back and forth rapidly–then trotted off giving out a sharp cry. Her trot was awkward because she was favoring her right front paw. Something was wrong–

The reason became clear as Michael lifted her paw. As he brought up it up off the ground, a large black bumble bee fell to the ground.

Oh boy–she’d been stung and she was in pain.

Luckily, Michael was there to carry her home. Once we checked her out, we soaked her paw, iced it, and gave her Benadryl and pain meds. She’s definitely more comfortable but not quite okay–yet.

So, we’ve been on Ruby watch today. Not a bad assignment and one that could have resulted in some extra reading time. Honestly, all I’ve done is watch her and attempt to write a word or two.

I did find a prayer to share, though, and I think it is lovely.

Master of the Universe,

grant me the ability o be alone;

may it be my custom to go outdoors each day

among the trees and grass, among all growing things, 

and there may I be alone, and enter into prayer, 

to talk with the One that I belong to. 

May I express there everything in my heart,

and may all the foliage of the field, 

all grasses, trees, and plants,

may they all awake at my coming,

to send the powers of their life into the words of my prayer

so that my prayer and speech are made whole

through the life and spirit of all growing things,

which are made as one by their transcendent Source.

(Translated by Rabbi Shamai Kanter)

Rabbi Naomi Levy, To Begin Again

I am…

B…simply being…

God bless.

~Peace~

My Best Buddy

“Dogs can tell you stuff without saying anything.” 

Victoria Carless, The Dream Walker

It has been a pretty quiet time in Hibdonville.

A couple of nights ago we had a storm roll through. None of our dogs like the lightning and thunder. This storm was especially loud, lasting so long even our twelve-year-old Lhasa, Bud, managed to jump up on our bed for comfort. I was certainly surprised. He had not done that for some time.

What I did not think about was how hard it might be on his arthritic back to jump down from the bed. I don’t think that move went well for him.

Yesterday, he isolated himself, refusing to move. Of course, I watched his every move–or lack of it–conjuring up all kinds of scenarios about what had happened to his little body as a result of his latest aerobatics. This is our dog who would run so fast as a puppy the only way he could stop himself was by running full speed into the couch. This is the same dog who played ball for hours and hours–stopping only when the “ball tosser” was completely exhausted. Not now. He was in pain and I was worried.

Yesterday was the second time in his long life when he did not go everywhere with me. Dogs are much wiser than we are–he was resting and letting his body heal. My mind could not–would not–fully accept that simple explanation.

Today, he is better–moving very slowly but up and moving. He is eating so I can sneak in some pain medication. His eyes and the tilt of his ears tell me he is feeling better. Of course Michael being home from the lease makes Bud’s world so much fuller and better.

Retirement has given me time to be with our dogs. This experience has reminded me time races on. Like so many things, I cannot take these little souls for granted. I need to treasure each and every day.

“When you have dogs, you witness their uncomplaining acceptance of suffering, their bright desire to make the most of life in spite of the limitations of age and disease, their calm awareness of the approaching end when their final hours come. They accept death with a grace that I hope I will one day be brave enough to muster.” 

Dean Koontz, A Big Little Life: A Memoir of a Joyful Dog

I am…

B…simply being…

Praying for my Bud and asking God to bless us all.

~Peace~

 

Puppy Love

“Owning a dog is slightly less expensive than being addicted to crack.”
― Jen Lancaster, Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass, Or, Why You Should Never Carry A Prada Bag to the Unemployment Office

Today was dog beauty shop day.

All three dogs saw a new groomer. Always a stressful day for everyone involved.

Each dog had their own appointment–which meant I was running a dog taxi service from our house to Toni, the groomer, since this morning. Hey, I got to know a whole new part of our little community and none of the dogs had to sit in a kennel waiting to be groomed. At the end of the day, the dogs look great, the groomer happy for new clients, and I’m thrilled to have well groomed, good smelling dogs.

A win-win situation for everyone involved.

Not an ideal environment for completing the story I started earlier this morning. That’s okay–gives me a chance to praise my dogs and our new groomer. Thanks, Toni, from The Puppy Parlor.  We have three good looking and very tired dogs.

Whenever we have days like today when one or more of our dogs are gone, I am so surprised at how much energy is missing when they are not here. Who woulda ever thought?

I am thankful.

“No matter how close we are to another person, few human relationships are as free from strife, disagreement, and frustration as is the relationship you have with a good dog. Few human beings give of themselves to another as a dog gives of itself. I also suspect that we cherish dogs because their unblemished souls make us wish – consciously or unconsciously – that we were as innocent as they are, and make us yearn for a place where innocence is universal and where the meanness, the betrayals, and the cruelties of this world are unknown.”
― Dean Koontz, A Big Little Life: A Memoir of a Joyful Dog

I am…

B…simply being…

God bless us all.

Peace

 

 

 

Osa

This is Osa.

We were told her name means “bear” in Spanish. The name fit her perfectly. She was the size of a bear, by far the largest dog I’d ever met.

We were full-time RVers when we met Osa. We were staying at the historic Prude Ranch, located just outside of Fort Davis, Texas. We arrived in mid-October and stayed through the first part of November. Osa was our campsite companion and protector.

If you are thinking about the RV lifestyle, there are so many things I could share with you. One of the most important things is, do NOT believe the pictures posted online by the facilities. If there are no recent reviews, think long and hard before you make reservations.

Prude Ranch is a guest ranch that has been in operation for decades.  At one time, it was the place to go for family vacations. When we were there, it was in dire need of repair. For the time we were there, we were the only RV in the upper RV park. It was quiet, peaceful, but a little scary. This brings up the other very important thing I want to share about RVing today. Please pay attention to the area you will be staying in. Determine how far you are from medical help? Will you have cell phone coverage? Internet was where we focused, not even questioning cell phone coverage. We were staying during the low season, once the few staff members left for the day,  we were alone. Yes, there was a pay phone at registration–which was at approximately a quarter of a mile from where we were camped. During the time we were there, I never once checked to see if the phone worked.

Osa took care of us. She’d come every day, mid-morning, staying through the night, leaving early for her job the next day. We have three dogs. They are not social. When I opened the door the first day Osa came, I was concerned. There was no containing this large dog. Our dogs would need to adjust. It was obvious, she was not going anywhere. We’d have to make it work. As I envisioned big battles that would have been very bad for our dogs, something magic happened. Each dog went through their own dog greeting, acting like they’d known each other forever.

We’d noticed our screen door would pop open if it was hit just right. Checking this door was the last thing checked before taking our dogs for a walk. One sunny afternoon, we were heading back to the RV when Michael tossed me his leashed dog, talking quickly while racing back to the trailer. What was being said was lost because he was moving too quickly. Grasping all the leashes, my gaze followed his path. In the distance, I could see the screen door was open, dog toys flying out into the yard.

Osa had figured out how to open the door. By the time I got home, Michael had retrieved the toys that’d survived her wild adventure, the inside dog bowls had been licked clean, every drop of water gone. Osa, in true Osa fashion, had made herself at home. As I surveyed the damage, I thanked God our dinner was sitting in the refrigerator.

On our last day, as we packed up to leave, Osa was there. I can visualize her now, meandering up the hill to our site, stopping close to each of us, leaning into our legs, finagling a pet and a treat.

There was a huge empty spot in our hearts as we made our way to the coast. We all missed having her outside the front door as we started our days. We missed having her big bear sized head under our hands. She’d somehow tamed our three dogs as she made her way into our lives and deep into our hearts. She was our gentle giant, our very own west Texas guardian angel.

God bless you, Osa. I love you.

I am…

B…simply being…

I wish you all love the size of Osa.

Peace

The Prince of Royal Court

“Dogs are the leaders of the planet. If you see two life forms, one of them’s making a poop, the other one’s carrying it for him, who would you assume is in charge.”
― Jerry Seinfeld

There is never a question about who is in charge at our house.

It’s Duffy.

He’s our Lhasa Apso we call the Prince of Royal Court because he is completely carefree. He has absolutely no worries.

He arrived via Delta Airlines from Utah in March 2009. I know that because I just read through all his records while I prepared to take him for his first vet visit in Texas.

We’ve been treating him for a urinary tract infection. It responded well to treatment except for the fact he still had a lot of crystals in that post medication sample. Because of that, we were strongly advised to bring him in for an evaluation and an x-ray.

We went today and he does have many radiopaque bladder stones. There are so many of these ragged looking stones our vet has concerns they may cause a bladder obstruction. Whether I wanted to hear it or not, the fact was, he needed surgery. Their first open date was weeks away. Too long to wait. Her advice was to leave him. That way they would work him into the surgery schedule today or first thing tomorrow.

I rapidly played through every single scenario I could come up with where I could delay the inevitable. Even to me, all the excuses sounded pathetic.

They are a busy clinic with decades of experience. The vets there have the type of real-life experience that comes from honest to God, in the trenches work. I’ve observed them carefully over the past few months. From the front desk staff to the vet techs, I’ve been impressed with their efficiency and knowledge. Even with all those positive vibes, I’d never had to leave MY DOG with them–until today.

The day has gotten progressively cooler and the skies darker as the latest cold front makes it way across Texas. It is a direct reflection of my mood.

I know. I really do understand that all of this is out of my control. I need to let go and trust those I trusted to care for our little Prince of Royal Court take care of him. Our Duffy will be home soon and will quickly re-establish balance to our world.

“No matter how close we are to another person, few human relationships are as free from strife, disagreement, and frustration as is the relationship you have with a good dog. Few human beings give of themselves to another as a dog gives of itself. I also suspect that we cherish dogs because their unblemished souls make us wish – consciously or unconsciously – that we were as innocent as they are, and make us yearn for a place where innocence is universal and where the meanness, the betrayals, and the cruelties of this world are unknown.”
― Dean Koontz, A Big Little Life: A Memoir of a Joyful Dog

I am…

B…simply being…

I love you and wish you peace.

 

Fred Lessons

For the past few days, I’ve been talking with a friend who’s thinking about getting a dog. She is well aware that this is not a decision to take lightly. For me, it is hard not to push hard because I really want her to have a dog in her life.

As we’ve talked, I’ve thought back on the dogs I’ve had over the years. Thankfully, most were in my life for a very long time. All but Fred.

As I talked about Fred today I realized she’d taught me a lesson all those years ago. I am so surprised that I did not really appreciate that until today. While it is still fresh in my head, let me tell you the story of Fred and me.

I’d always wanted an Old English Sheepdog. This is not an easy breed to find nor are they inexpensive. After searching for months, Chuck, now ex-husband, and I finally found a puppy we felt would be a good companion for us and for our other dog, Honey, a feisty miniature Poodle. The moment I saw the puppy, I just knew her name had to be Fred. Why I named a female puppy Fred, I don’t know. I just felt it was the cute, funny, and perfect. Just like I felt she was!

Looking back, I think that little energized puppy was trying to tell me something. From the first time we called to her, she never responded well to that name. I was so dead set on that name, I did not think her reaction may have been her way of trying to show me or tell me something. Now, I think this was her first and her consistent attempt to tell me that something was not right.

As far as Honey was concerned, Fred was another thing to tolerate. From day one, Fred was much larger. She ran and played hard but she never pushed Honey around. There were a few times when Fred grabbed Honey’s ears. After a few hard yanks, Honey let her know who, in no uncertain terms just who really was in charge!

These were days when both Chuck and I worked long hours. I was working days while he was working nights. Because of this schedule, the dogs did not have to be alone very much. Training a puppy is not the easiest thing but we were making progress. After a few weeks, I began to notice a different pattern. When I’d get home from work, Fred could not make it outside before she’d have had an accident in the house. As time went on, the distance she made to the door became shorter and shorter. After another month or so, she’d stopped even trying to get to the door. Off to the vet for us where we were assured she was okay. We just needed to be patient.

That was not so easy for me. I was getting frustrated. After working all day and rushing home, we seemed to be going backward in the housetraining department. Fred seemed to sense my frustration. She would show some improvement for a day or two, only to start the pattern all over.

One one very cold, snowy night, I came home to a clean house. No accidents. I took both dogs outside and was thrilled. As if fixed dinner, I turned to see Fred squatting beside one of my large houseplants. I’m not proud to tell you, I started screaming at her. I ran and grabbed her face in both my hands and looked into her eyes. I asked, “Fred, why did you do that?” Her answer was quick and strong. She took both of her front paws and scratched her dew claws down both of my arms.

Our eye contact did not break. We both knew that this was not going to work. Chuck and I decided we needed to let Fred go. We placed an ad in the Sunday paper. Early that snowy Sunday morning our phone rang. The person calling told us he was calling for friends who were deaf. His friends saw our ad and wanted her, sight unseen. They would bring the cash that morning. When could they come get her?

Well…that was fast.

My whole being knew that what we were doing was the right thing to do. At the appointed time, there was a knock on the door. All four of us went to the door, my ex, me, Honey, and Fred. The couple at the door smiled as they handed us the money. As this was happening, Fred made her way to the door, stepped forward, and waited for them to hook up a leash. In a matter of seconds, all three of them were trudging away through the snow–no hesitation–no one looked back. As the snow fell harder, they simply disappeared.

What did Fred teach me?

She taught me that my idea of choosing a dog was all wrong. I’d always thought I chose my dogs. I now know–Fred taught me–they chose me. I believe that there is some other, higher level of communication between dogs and humans. Dogs are more aware of this than humans. I now believe think a dog knows the minute they see us whether or not we are the human for them.

I understand now more than ever how important it is to think hard before you begin to search for a dog. Are you really aware of the level of responsibility you take on when you bring a dog into your life? A dog brings it all to this game called life. You must be ready to give your all to them as well. It’s part of the deal.

Oh…if we could all love each other like our dogs love us. Heaven must be like that…

Speaking of love, please focus your prayers on California. How is it possible that each week I ask for prayers for so many different disasters. Our world feels like it’s spinning faster and faster into some unknown dimension. If there was ever a time when we need each other, it is now.

I am…

B…simply being…

Love and peace, Y’all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prince, Otherwise Known As, Duffy

When you read about the Lhasa Apso breed, you find that some people say there is the spirit of a Dalai Lama in a Lhasa. When you meet Duffy, you will tend to believe that statement.

Michael found Duffy at a time when our oldest Lhasa, Pearl, was pretty sick. She was 14 years old and failing. Honestly, I feel Pearl hung with us and tolerated our intensive care because she did not want to leave Bud with Gracie. Gracie was our rescue dog. Like most rescue animals, she was also older and had her own health issues. As time slide by us, it became obvious Gracie was not going to be a long-term companion for Bud.

Michael found Duffy in an internet ad placed from Utah. What caught his attention was the fact that Duffy and his brother, Andy, were ready to come to us immediately. They were seven months old and had been staying with the breeder waiting for their original owner to recover from breast cancer. Unexpected complications of that surgery forced the owner to make the difficult decision to give them up, opening up the opportunity for us to have an older puppy.

Our main focus was making this change in a way that was easy for both older dogs. After extensive conversations with the breeder, we found a way to get Duffy to our home in Denver.

Duffy arrived at DIA by way of Delta Airlines in his own very roomy dog carrier. Inside the carrier was a new little dog bed, a book of instructions on how to care for him, food, water, and his toys.

Our house became his home immediately. Pearl gave him a sniff and a glance of acknowledgment. Gracie ignored him. Bud taught him how to use the dog door and let him know who was the boss.

Duffy arrived on Tuesday. That Friday, our Vet, Dr. Munger, called to tell me Pearl’s latest bloodwork showed she had severe diabetes.

It was time.

Pearl was ready. As I looked around me, I realized she had retreated into her own space, opening up her corner of this world. She was easing away from all of us while getting her world in order. She was moving on.

I lost another part of my heart that day. I cry as I remember and tell her story. I am grateful we had such great care from our vet and his staff. Pearl was a fighter. She died peacefully in the place where she had fought so many battles. She was finally free of the pain. She will always be one of my biggest and strongest heroes.

From the day he arrived, Duffy has been both the instigator and the peacemaker. He has grown and expanded his own spot in my heart. Oh, don’t be mistaken, he could never ever fill anyone else’s spot–that is impossible. What has happened is he’s smoothed those rough edges by his unconditional acceptance of me. His being has allowed me to be joyful again.

It is the inevitable truth about having a dog. We dog owners know this, but it is a fact we ignore. Yes, ignorance truly is bliss. After walking this road many times before, I now understand that I each day with these special souls is a blessing. I work hard to live each day with this knowledge close at hand.

In the heaven I envision, dogs are on the front line. Well…seriously…of course they are the first souls encountered by anyone coming that way. And yes, they really are at that rainbow bridge spot. In my mind, when a dog dies, there is another dog soul standing in the middle of the rainbow bridge. Each dog is waiting for the other because the dog-in-waiting will soon be on the way to wag his way into the life and heart of the human left behind. That puppy powered with puppy energy and puppy breath will smooch and soothe away the ragged edges of loss.

God understands that it is only another brave, adorable puppy soul who could even attempt to ease the type of pain that comes from the loss of another dog.

For me, Duffy is another champion. He wasn’t waiting for Pearl at the bridge. He knew he had to get a head start because he had some HUGE paws to fill.

I am…

B…simply…being…

Love and peace, Y’all.

 

 

Bud

When you have dogs, you witness their uncomplaining acceptance of suffering, their bright desire to make the most of life in spite of the limitations of age and disease, their calm awareness of the approaching end when their final hours come. They accept death with a grace that I hope I will one day be brave enough to muster.”
Dean Koontz, A Big Little Life: A Memoir of a Joyful Dog

I need to write something today that would boost my spirits. For the past few days, I have binge-watched, This Is Us. 

I’m emotionally drained and completely cried out.

Because I have been focused on my dogs today–the next few days are filled with dog grooming appointments–what better way to take my mind in a different direction than to write about my dogs?

Meet Bud.

Bud is our oldest Lhasa Apso, turning eleven years old last January. We call him our Nebraska farm dog because those are his roots. He is the healthiest dog to ever grace our home. No matter how much his back hurts or his hind legs catch, he is always ready for his walk. He never ever allows us to sit anywhere alone. He’s not a lap dog, but he is usually close enough to have his nose on foot or in your shoe. He is 18 pounds of absolute devotion.

Bud is named for my Dad, whose nickname was Bud. This fact shoots up a warning flag–kinda like those annoying advertisements that pop up on your favorite websites! When you name someone or something after another important person in your life, be ready for a whole new level of “concern” when things are not going as usual.

Bud joined us after our youngest Lhasa, Jessie, died very unexpectedly. Most of the dogs in my life had lived very long lives. To lose Jessie at eight years of age took me completely off guard. I was lost.

Michael was grasping at ways to help me. He called and asked me to check the paper for puppies. In his opinion, the only way to help me was to call in the serious dog healers–otherwise known as puppies.

I grabbed the ad section of The Denver Post–this was eleven years ago–and searched. I found an ad that read: Three Lhasa Apso puppies for sale, two males, one female. The phone number was given with the note to ask for Vivian.

My heart stopped.

Vivian is NOT a common name. My Mom’s name was Vivian. Holding my breath, I called the number. Vivian told me she could send a picture of the only puppy she had left. If I was interested, I needed to let her know because she was bringing the other puppies to the Denver area that weekend.

I opened the email and fell in love with that handsome boy. His name had been decided the minute I began to talk with Vivian. He was Bud.

I am…

B…simply being…

I love you.

Peace