Spring

Spring has arrived and I think it's safe to say that both Harold and I have never been as happy to see the green grass growing and to feel the warmth of the sun on our skin, as we are this year.

Springtime brings thoughts of love, feelings of hope, and an appreciation for life as you watch green plants push their way through dark brown earth, encouraged to grow by the warm sun and soft rain.  It reminds us that while life is sometimes hard and sad, there is plenty of beauty to be found.

On Saturday the sun was out bright and warm, and when I arrived home from my early morning appointment I found Harold already outside preparing to mow the lawn.  He had stumbled on my to-do list while I was out and knowing how much I loathe cutting the grass, had decided to do that chore for me.

He pulled the dusty lawnmower from the shed, checking and replenishing the oil and gas levels, found my gardening tools in about 3 seconds when he overheard me whining that I couldn't find them and began the tedious process of cutting our already "too-long" grass.  I tended to my unimpressive but much-loved flower beds; cutting away the old growth, clearing out brown leaves, and digging up weeds.  I was sweating, the rose bush drew blood and my legs ached from squatting but I realized that for the first time in weeks I was happy.  

I took a quick break and joined our shepherd Hannah who was sunbathing on the deck.   I sat on the edge of the deck, feet dangling over the side, sweat on my forehead.  It didn't take long for Hannah to come over and lay down beside me, rolling on to her back so as to encourage me to rub her belly.  I obliged, running my hand over her belly, marveling at how thick her fur was and how warm it was from the sun.  I watched my husband mow the lawn, patiently pushing the lawn mower back and forth across the yard while our chihuahua Dexter trailed behind him. 

I closed my eyes, lifted my face to the sun and thought about how difficult life has been for us over the past 4 months.  Car troubles, plumbing troubles, mice infestations, and a lung infection/virus that just wouldn't quit. 

My brother became seriously ill requiring a hospital stay for him and an unexpected trip to Edmonton for me.

And then in April, Harold's dad, a man loved and respected and now, so missed, passed away. He died peacefully; surrounded by the people who loved him. 

A hard 4 months.  Full of worry and fear; sadness and loss.

Life just gets you down sometimes doesn't it?   The stress over finances, children, jobs, the death of a loved one, feels too heavy of a burden.   You start to forget the good; to fear that there is nothing happy left for you to reach for.

On Saturday I was reminded in so many small, meaningful ways, that life can be beautiful.

The prettiness of the flowers that my Jess sent us:

The pop of colour where previously there was only green:

The bright yellow blossoms of the forsythia bush.

The discovery that my beloved bleeding heart plant had survived the winter:

The sun-warmed fur of an old dog:

The first bbq of the season:

We all have small things that make us happy don't we?  Sometimes they're lost to us and we have to find them again.  On that Saturday I was so grateful for all the little things that made me happy that day.  But mostly I'm thankful that I could find happiness again with something as simple as watching the man I love cut the grass, while a small brown dog followed faithfully at his heels.

Sadie

Over 15 years ago a dog named Sadie was adopted by a young, newly-married couple.  Sadie had already been adopted and returned at least once before and while she was not a bad girl she certainly was... enthusiastic about living life to the fullest.

The first few years were a challenge for Sadie and the young couple as they worked through Sadie's issues but they never gave up on her. Their persistence and dedication to her was rewarded when Sadie mellowed out and became the dog we all knew she could be.

As the couple's lives changed, so did Sadie's.  She moved to a different country with them, living in various places until they found their forever home by the ocean.  She made numerous driving trips across the country with them and, in the cases where she couldn't join them, waited patiently at home, being a good girl for the dog sitter, until her mom and dad came home again.

The years went by and her body began to show it's age.  Her once black muzzle grew white, joyful bounding and running was replaced with a careful, dignified gait and shiny fur began to dull.  But although her body aged, her spirit, that joyful, loving spirit, never changed. 

She still smiled:

and relaxed on the couch whenever the occasion called for it:

Although not my dog, Sadie is a part of my family. She belongs to my best friend Jess and her husband.  I've dogsat her, walked her, spent vacations with her, laughed over her silly antics and worried over the phone with Jess over the years about various health scares.

A few days ago, Sadie's mom and dad took their girl to the vet for the last time. 

Although Sadie's spirit and body, nearly 117 in dog years, were ready to say goodbye, it was still an agonizing decision for her mom and dad.  It is my hope that, even now during one of the darkest times of their lives, they will always remember how much Sadie loved them.

Sleep sweet Sadie girl.  You are so loved.

A Tale of Two Dogs

We have family in town right now and as usual, they have fallen madly, deeply in love with our Gracie girl. 

It happens a lot.  Friends and family stop by and within half an hour they have been charmed by the yorkie/maltese cross that is Gracie.

I get it, I really do.  She is a lovely, sweet girl who, once she gets over her initial nervousness, will ask you very politely for belly rubs.  If you don't happen to be in the "giving out belly rubs" mood, she'll just curl up quietly beside you on the couch.  She weighs only 6 pounds or so and she fits perfectly on your lap.  She is perfectly content to do whatever you want to do.  Sleep, watch tv, go for a walk, go to the dog park.  Whatever you choose - she's got your back.

Guests LOVE her.

Do you know who they DON'T love?

This guy:

Like the love for Gracie, I get the dislike for Dexter.  He is very enthusiastic about house guests and his desire to greet them and love them and MAKE THEM LOVE HIM TOO!!!  He jumps up. He dances around your feet.  He nibbles and chews at your hands when you do try and pet him.  He can't control his unabashed excitement about your visit and zings around the house like a madman, prancing and leaping and bouncing with the pure, simple joy of making new friends.

He weighs 13 pounds when he should only weigh 6 pounds.  He's not fat, just a mutant.  But he believes he only weighs 6 pounds and is the appropriate size for laps.  He has a licking problem.  When you sit down he'll stand against you or on you, and attempt to lick your brain clean via the inside of your ears.  If you're a woman he'll attempt to stick his head down your shirt and lick between your boobs.  He is RELENTLESS about this.  He licks the other dog's ears, the cat's ears and the bunny's ears.  He has a thing for ears.

He has no concept of personal space.  Where you are, why he must be too.

Trying to snuggle on the couch with daddy?  I must sit between the two of you.  No - not beside daddy, between you.  If mommy is sitting on the couch, a part of me must be touching a part of her at all times.  Need to tinkle mom?  Here, I'll escort you to the bathroom!  Going outside for 2 seconds to put the paper in the recycling bin?  I'd better go with you.  Going into the bedroom to get socks?  I'm good at picking out socks!!  And if you don't let me do any of these things with you, I will stand at the door and whine and cry pathetically and LOUDLY until the entire neighborhood believes you are beating me.

He is like this, to a certain degree, with houseguests.  He will try jumping at them to get their attention.  He'll lick their ears if given the chance and he wants to sit beside them on the couch and will fervently try to cram his 13 pounds of bony knees and elbows into their lap at every possible opportunity..

I've lost count of the amount of times visitors and/or houseguests have threatened to steal Gracie from us.  With the exception of Celina the Pet Nanny, no one has ever threatened to steal Dexter.

Obviously I failed at turning Dexter into a well-behaved dog and I take full responsibility for this.  Celina the Pet Nanny/Canadian Dog Whisperer could only do so much and believe me, Dexter would be about 10 times worse if he hadn't had some training sessions with Celina and Mirek.

But this isn't about who is to blame for Dexter's disobedience (me) or weird ear fetishes (no idea who is to blame for THAT one).  This is about how appearances are deceiving. 

Gracie?  Our small, sweet pretty little girl suffered from such severe separation anxiety when we first brought her home that she pooped and urinated and howled and screamed and barked herself hoarse within the first 5 minutes of being left alone.  For the first year and a half that she lived with us I spent $300 a month on dog care for her.  That's $5,400 dollars she cost us.  And I couldn't just drop her off at any old dog care facility because did I mention Gracie isn't a fan of big dogs?  And to be at a dog care you have to get along with ALL dogs.  I had to put an ad out and interview a bunch of weird and scary people before I found the perfect person to look after her.    Every morning for a year and a half I drove 20 minutes extra in the morning and 20 minutes extra in the evening to drop her off and pick her up from doggie daycare.  After nearly 2 years of medication, a stable home environment, and progressively longer periods of being alone, Gracie is now weaned off the meds and can stay home alone with the other dogs.  But it was a long, frustrating and expensive 2 years.

Dexter?  Two days after he came home with us, he was sleeping in his crate all night without a peep.  After a week with us he would gladly go into his crate for the day for nothing more than a cookie.  He had his bed, his bowl of water and his stuffie.  He was good to go.  See you when you get home mommy!

Dexter eats a lot of inedible objects...rocks, sticks, socks, hair bows from Gracie's head.  You give it to him he'll try to eat it. 

Gracie eats shit.  That's right, you heard me.  She.Eats.Shit.  She's partial to a particular brand of shit - mainly Hannah the Shepherd's Shit and if you do not watch Gracie outside like a hawk every single moment it won't be long before she is standing underneath Hannah's squatting body with an upturned face and an open mouth like Hannah's ass is the world's best soft serve ice cream machine. 

And if she happens to miss it fresh from the factory?  No problem!!  She'll eat stale shit too!  And then she'll come and try to kiss you with her shit-stained tongue.

Dexter is a chihuahua.  That means he is miserable, bites, hates children, hates other dogs, and yaps non-stop right?  Apparently Dexter forgot somewhere along the way that he is supposed to be a miserable jackass of a dog.  He loves EVERYONE.  And I mean everyone.  Adults, kids, other dogs - it doesn't matter to him.  He'll try and make friends with everyone.  Big dogs, little dogs, big kids, small kids. Shy kids, friendly kids, kids who grab his tail, kids who chase him around the dog park.  He gives everyone a chance.

And before Gracie came along the only time Dexter barked was if the doorbell rang.  It's a surprisingly non-shrill bark for a chihuahua.

Gracie is nervous and snappy around dogs she does not know and a pushy and domineering asshole to dogs she does know.  She is food aggressive and snarly with Dexter when he tries to cuddle her and she attempts to be pack leader on a regular basis. 

She also has that shrill - makes you want to stab yourself in the ear drum with a sharp pencil - bark that she puts to excellent use.  The tiniest little noise sets off a volcanic eruption of barking that DOES NOT STOP.  And she encourages the other dogs to join her.  She welcomes us home from a long day of work with that same shrill, non-stop, screechingly loud barking and she will.not.shut.up.  Especially if her "daddy" is in the room. 

Also, she makes no attempt to disguise the fact that Ben is her favourite person in the entire world.  I may be Dexter's favourite but he at least pretends to be enthusiastic about seeing Ben.

There's no real point to this post other than that it never fails to amuse me that our houseguests want to steal our pushy, dominant, shit-eating "I will cut a bitch and not think twice about it" Gracie over our sweet, "What the World Needs Now is Love, Sweet Love..." Dexter.

First impressions are deceiving in dogs too y'all.