friday five: super stah!

As I transition from a vocation as a parish priest to a very different kind of ministry I have been astounded by the kindness and helpfulness of others. Their words have encouraged and affirmed me, and they have shared ideas and initiated actions to benefit my new venture.  All of these individuals are women, and I am blessed and a little overwhelmed by the genuineness of their support. It stands in contrast to too much of my experience serving in the Church, which is often plagued by pettiness toward and criticism of its clergy.

Because there is far too little of it, for clergy in general and clergy women in particular, today I want to focus on affirming what we do well. Let’s practice giving ourselves complements, and—gasp!—accepting them with grace! It may be challenging, but I promise it won’t hurt.

List five super powers that you use in your vocational life. This isn’t bragging. It’s naming the light that shines from your lamp stand.

Go!

1) Preaching is one area where I get good marks consistently.  I am so grateful to partner effectively with the Holy Spirit in this department!

2) Creative marketing: I may not have the most original idea out there, but I have been known to generate new ways of looking at old challenges and respond to them with a twist. After Hurricane Katrina a number of displaced families were settled at a campground not far from the church. I took the "Blessing of the Animals" service to them, and it was an entirely new experience for all of us. 

3) Listening is something I do really well. It will be interesting to see how my listening skills adapt as an animal massage practitioner where I use my hands more than my ears.

4) Compassion that cuts through the crap. When someone is hurting, frightened, or sad--I don't care if they're a butt-hole the rest of the week--I care about the human tie that binds.  This has helped me learn to love people I don't like.

5) Partly because I have the "efficiency" gene I'm a good facilitator. Not only do I hear between the lines to make sense of conversation and ideas being generated, I keep a group on track.  It doesn't hurt that as an INFJ I'm all about possibilities. 

Phew!

update, long overdue

I was in touch by email awhile back with the most regular readers of this space, but I have been remiss not to share the following news here earlier for others who have been following along. In short: Vocational Breakthrough!

The pieces came together while sitting out on the deck of our daughter's home visiting with our newest grandson, Rock, then two days old. Ashley had their Yorkie, Madison, on her lap, and was explaining that as Madison has gotten older (she is now 10) she has become increasingly hyper and anxious. When you consider the changes Maddie has experienced in her life--multiple moves, four new humans and two new dogs added to her domicile--it makes sense that her behavior reflects stress. As is typical of my brain, my thoughts leaped from one point to the next, and I was reminded of Zeke, my brother's dog. The previous year Zeke was hit by a car, suffering multiple, debilitating injuries. Among the treatments attempted to restore Zeke to health was massage. At the time I had never heard of massage for dogs, or other animals, but my brain left a bookmark in that page of information to which it now returned.

Hmm. Animal massage. Although I  have never been drawn to human massage as a vocational opportunity, animal massage beckoned me. As you all know, I am mad about dogs. I have wanted to find a way to work for the benefit of dogs for a while now, but various deterrents kept eliminating a number of the options I explored. Time to learn more.

When we returned home a couple of days later I spent several hours with Google, finding web sites and information about animal massage. What kind of training was available? What sort of financial investment would be necessary? Could I make any money? And so on. What I learned is that animal massage is a viable course for me. Although prayer and discernment were invoked, in the core of my being I already knew that my prayers and the quest of so many years were being answered.The inner peace, relief, and joy that flooded my being felt like a divine kiss.

That was two months ago. Since then I have zeroed in on the where and how of training: a combination of distance learning and hands on work through a program in Toledo, Ohio. The cost, while not pocket change, seemed doable: $2500 for the program plus lodging and travel expenses. A combination of supply work (filling in for clergy on Sundays), stipend for doing a wedding, selling off Pampered Chef inventory at our yard sale, and an appeal to my bishop for aid yielded the funds I would need. Phew! Originally I would have been returning today from a week's training in Ohio, but low enrollment in the July course resulted in that class being cancelled. This was not happy news for me. The sooner I have the training the sooner I am able to generate revenue, but... I am now enrolled in the September class, leaving me more time at this end to read thoroughly all the material and get some practice time in. 

For the short run, we will convert what is now Ken's office/den space (the former garage) to my work space where clients may bring their dogs for massage sessions. The delay in coursework benefits us here, as that process has been delayed due to some health issues for Ken (torn meniscus --> knee surgery and recovery). I can also offer mobile services, though that is less desirable for a number of reasons. I am confident that all of that will work out. 

This week I am fine-tuning plans and goals. I have a meeting at our local chamber of commerce in a couple of days with a small business consultant. The financial piece of this is the greatest challenge--I have no real capital with which to launch--but the good news is that I have a decent network of resources to help me market my business, and the overhead for the work is minimal. A grooming table is really all I need, and the search for a used one has begun. 

The greatest challenge thus far has been landing on a name for my business. I like naming things. The process is creative and fun, and usually something clever materializes. The advice from the center through whom I am doing my training cautions against using the words therapy or healing in the name, as well as avoiding anything cutesy. No matter which way I ventured in my thinking, however, I was coming up with nothing.  I finally posed a very dull idea to Ken, who offered an alternative, and at last there is a result: Cumberland Animal Massage. Cumberland is a geographic reference to the region where we live (a river, a plateau, a university), and animal doesn't confine me to dogs, although I expect the bulk of my work to be with canines. (I hope to expand to horses eventually, but that will be down the road.)  The name isn't what I had hoped for, but as I live with it it becomes increasingly comfortable. It sounds like substance, and that is what I want it to reflect.

So! There you have it.  I'll keep you posted in a more timely manner from here on.

fun times ahead!

Timing is everything.

Yesterday I popped over to facebook to see what updates had been posted since my last visit, and there at the top was a note from Nashville Paw Magazine that they had a vendor opening for their annual Barktoberfest event this fall. First one to get in touch would get the opening!

I emailed immediately and said I'd take the spot, and I'm in! I don't ordinarily enjoy booth opportunities at events as a way to conjure up customers for my Pampered Chef business, but I love the idea of being at this dog-friendly and -focused gathering. I can fuss over people's dogs, share the love, and say, "did you know that our Silicone Mat is the perfect tool for rolling out dough for dog biscuits?" Barktoberfest's theme this year is Vintage Halloween Carnival, and we're encouraged to decorate our booths (and ourselves) accordingly.

I'm not particularly inclined toward vintage or carnival themes most days of the week, but I have to say that after scoping out the ideas on Pinterest I am beyond excited about the possibilities. In fact, I have too many ideas to implement, and will have to work hard to restrain myself and narrow down my choices.

Since this is an outdoor event we (Ken has been alerted that I will need his help) will be using the EZ-Up "tent." Here are a few keepers:

These will be clustered inside the EZ-Up. Change the colors to black, orange and purple (and maybe that lovely neon lime-green), and decorate the balloons with paw print designs.

Pole curtains!  The curtains at the corners will cover the metal posts as well as the gizmos we employ as weights to keep the thing from getting upended by wind. Been there! The EZ-Up has only four poles, which will make life considerably easier for decorating purposes. Halloween fabric will be employed. Flowers will not. It may be possible to decorate the top of the EZ-Up somehow, although I'm thinking that may be taking this a bit too far.  We'll see. Ken's willingness and enthusiasm to make it happen may be a determining factor. I also need to be careful to avoid creating a "big top" look, since Nashville Paw is clear that we are not emulating circus themes (because of animal abuse issues).

A decorated pumpkin with "The Pampered Chef" written on it, and paw prints instead of dots. Not sure what I will put on top, but I'll think of something!

A cluster of pinwheels (in Halloween paper) displayed in a Pampered Chef product (not sure yet which one).

And so much more! Bunting, a ring-toss game (the prize will be a specially printed recipe of dog treats prepared using Pampered Chef products), bags of dog treats for sale, a guess-how-many-candy-corn-pieces-are-in-the-jar opportunity, soda bottles filled with Halloween-colored water...

My biggest challenge? Figuring out what my costume should be! I've got some time, and I will start working on putting together my pinwheels, getting fabric, balloons and what-not. But I'm psyched. Are you having fun with me?

Time to get out the new fall catalog and go through it to make some decisions about what products to have on display, and what I will offer as a give-away. This is going to be a blast!

love, love, love

I hope that Spider Solitaire won't take it personally that I have forsaken it (mostly) for Pinterest. Oh, gracious, how addictive is Pinterest! But it's a good addiction: I discover all sorts of great ideas that I can adopt, imitate, or use for inspiration. I discover recipes that I can dream about and feel like I've eaten without actually using and devouring the results of them. I learn about beautiful places that soothe my soul, laugh at the antics of people I have never met, and find inspiration through encouraging words and quotes. And more.

There have been some very moving items posted lately, and this one was in my vision this morning when I perused the latest pinings. It's an adorable story. Whether or not it's true, I don't care. Posted at herOinchic@tumbler.

Our 14 year old dog, Abbey, died last month. The day after she died, my 4 year old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey.  She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her.  I told her that I thought we could so she dictated these words:

Dear God, Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me have her as my dog even though she got sick. I hope you will play with her. She likes to play with balls and to swim. I am sending a picture of her so when you see her You will know that she is my dog. I really miss her. Love, Meredith

We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey and Meredith and addressed it to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it. Then Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelope because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to heaven. That afternoon she dropped it into the letter box at the post office.

A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter yet.  I told her that I thought He had.

Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed, ‘To Meredith’ in an unfamiliar hand. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called, ‘When a Pet Dies.’ Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey & Meredith and this note:

Dear Meredith, Abbey arrived safely in heaven. Having the picture was a big help. I recognized Abbey right away. Abbey isn’t sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don’t need our bodies in heaven, I don’t have any pockets to keep your picture in, so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by.  Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I’m easy to find, I am wherever there is love. Love, God…

Barrett, a boy after my heart

I received the following this morning from a friend. I appeal to all people who love dogs, children, have a compassionate heart and maybe a little money, to help.  I have edited this piece just slightly for space.

My name is Tammy Ruck and I am a Nursing Major at Cumberland University. I am reaching out to my fellow students and staff at Cumberland to share my son's story. I have 3 children, but my middle son, Barrett, has some special needs. He is Autistic, has seizures, is a heart patient, has asthma, ADHD and OCD. He is really bright but he has many development delays, physically, emotionally and socially. My husband and I have decided to get Barrett a service dog. A service dog is not covered by medical insurance and costs $20,000 to train over the course of 2 years. The company we have chosen fund raises to cover half of that cost and the family has to fund raise to cover the other half. The family also has to cover their own expenses to get to the training and cover other expenses related to owning a service dog (special ID for dog and handler, vest, leashes, harness, dog crate and veterinary expenses).  We have estimated we will need $12,000 total.

We decided to create a web page telling Barrett's story and asking for help in reaching our goal.  I would appreciate if everyone would just take a moment to read Barrett's story. You won't regret it. He is so inspiring.  I know, in tough times, many people will not be able to donate (especially us students), but if you could share Barrett's story with all your contacts by forwarding along his web address, that would be so helpful.  Barrett's web page has only been operational now for 7 days and just through word of mouth, email and facebook, he has raised over $5000.00. Now we can turn in his application and they can select a service dog who has completed his basic training and begin training him specifically for Barrett's needs.  We have a relatively small window of time to raise the rest of the funds in order for Barrett to get his dog. A service dog will be life-saving and life changing for Barrett. Barrett's story has also caught the attention of Nashville News Channel 5 and they will be at our house Thursday to film a segment about him and his efforts to get his service dog. Be watching for the news clip to get an inside view into Barrett's incredible life.

Thank you for hearing Barrett's story, taking him into your heart, sharing his story with others and helping us reach this goal. With your help, Barrett can learn to be independent and be safe. My family thanks you all so much...from the bottom of Barrett's special little heart. If we go over our goal, our family has decided to get a hold of the company we have chosen and find the closest family to us that is also currently fund raising for an Autism Service Dog and let Barrett surprise them with a check. Please take this journey with our family by following Barrett's progress on his web site. You can feel good knowing that you mattered in the life of a small child and made his life better. Thank you.

Sincerely,

Tammy Ruck.

friday five: pets

Juliet and Dooley on my 50th birthday

At RevGals Jan ruminates about pets. She invites us to "Tell us about the animals in your lives. If you have no pets, give examples of friends' pets or imaginary ones!"


1. Did you grow up with pets?
You betcha! A cocker spaniel when I was a wee thing, and then a cat. When I was eleven my parents gave me a dog for Christmas, and the rest, as they say, is history.

2. Do you have any pets now?
Three dogs (see picture below): Rigel (German Shorthaired Pointer), Juliet (AkitaGgreyhound mix), and McKinlee (Yellow Lab/Jack Russell mix)

3. What is the funniest or worst thing any of your pets have ever done?
I have a terrible memory for antics or stories unless evoked by something, but there is one thing that comes to mind. When my husband and I were dating we were watching TV one evening. My dog, Dooley (seen above on the right) was lying next to Ken and was fussing about something. "GRRRRRRR," he kept going. I finally looked at him and said with conviction, "Dooley, use your indoor voice." He turned his head away and went, "grrrrrr."

4. Who is/was your favorite pet?
I have loved all my dogs equally, but I will say that when Dooley died a couple of years ago from congestive heart failure, the grief was the worst I ever experienced with a pet. I continue to miss him dreadully.

5. How did you train your different pets?
What makes you think I train my pets? Seriously, we don't want to have this conversation.

BONUS: Pictures of a pet or one you wish you could have.

thankful thursday

Once upon a time we bought a new couch. It had all sorts of features that we wanted: a recliner for him, a chaise for her, a pull-out bed for overflow company who, thus far, have never materialized. On the second day of its presence in our house Rigel decided to mark it as his own forever. It was an omen of things to come.

Enter McKinlee, the lovable holy terror who quickly became Rigel's partner in crime (though she's quite capable of committing crimes all by herself). Between the two of them two holes appeared in two different cushions of the couch. On the recliner cushion, pictured above on the left and upper right, the dogs managed to devour or at least pull out in pieces nearly half of the cushion. See below. With every tug that tore off a piece of cushion, the cushion itself was pulled to the fore. Over a period of several months it became more and more difficult to sit with comfort on the ever-shrinking cushion.

When Ken took the folded blanket that came off the bed as temperatures warmed this spring and placed it on the recliner I knew the day had come. Fortunately, among the stash of upholstery samples that are folded neatly in my closet waiting for their designated project, I found a sample that matched the couch fabric in color with perfection. It has a woven design that differs, but the color match would prove less distracting and therefore draw less attention to the patches that were about to be applied to the couch cushions.

I bought a section of foam for a new cushion and, needle and thread in hand, last night I applied my sewing skills to the task of repair. Below is the finished result. You can't really make out the location where the smaller hole was, but the square patch on the recliner is clear. Should've turned the fabric the other way so that the nap matched the original. Oh well. The couch is now restored, Ken can sit in the chair without complaint, and the room feels almost like new again without the ragged holes and pieces of torn cushion covering the floor.

For what am I thankful? 1) That I didn't have to go farther than my closet to find a suitable fabric match for this couch. It is, frankly, an ugly color (what you see in the photo is not true to life--it's greener in reality--yes, greener), and finding a match would have been a challenge. 2) I have the skill set to do the repairs, which were a bit tricky. 3) The fruit of my labor evokes a smile from me whenever I pass through the room now. 4) Ken says, "it feels like it did when it was new" when he sits in the recliner.

Sometimes it's the simple things. And you--for what are you thankful today?

celebrating being

Y'all know that I am a dog person. The kids arrived last night with their three beloveds, so for the next few days we are a household of four adults and six--yes, six!--dogs! This clip was sent to me by my friend Yolande, and it is too wonderful not to share. Moved me to tears! Enjoy every moment of it, and celebrate being.

new life

I'm not really sure when Advent begins technically. Thanksgiving marks the last feast day in the liturgical year, and the first Sunday of Advent begins the new cycle of the Church's walk of faith through the life and times and impact of Jesus. These in-between days of Friday and Saturday fall where, exactly? Friday might well stand outside of time, considering that many worship the altar of consumer enticements (not an indictment, simply an observation). I'll hedge my bets and refer to today as the Eve of Advent, which, in fact, it is. I suspect most people whose lives aren't influenced by having to prepare sermons and spiritually meaningful activities for others don't think of this time as a beginning, but this year I am very mindful of the concept of beginning. Or, more accurately, beginning again.

I am going to try, again, to improve my health habits. I find motivation in my friend Jayne's faithful commitment to healthier living, and having heard the testimony on Thanksgiving of one who has lost 26 pounds since August on Weight Watchers (and then there's Jules, who has also been successful on that program), I have good role models in this effort. I also have an accountability partner in my faithful canine, Juliet (above, right), who for various reasons has returned to the need to be walked a couple of times a day. She's not shy in letting me know that it's time to put on my walking shoes: she stands in front of me, raises her head and lets out a very vocal demand.

So yesterday we began anew with our walks, morning and evening. The morning walk followed the pattern of old, echoing the days before we had the invisible fence and I walked the dogs faithfully for their relief and pleasure. The morning route is always the same to minimize encountering vehicles bound for work. The evening route, however, varies. Last night as Juliet and I turned toward our old neighborhood I was overwhelmed by the nostalgia of earlier walks. The twice-daily walks of three years ago were born of necessity, but became for me an opportunity to enjoy the dogs without other distractions, and to entertain whatever thoughts might stray into the path of my consciousness. Those were also halcyon days of hope and possibility only barely strained by the weight of vocational, financial and family challenges. Hope and possibility are still present, but are often overshadowed by more urgent and pressing concerns.

To be visited by the pleasant ghosts of those previous journeys was bittersweet. I recognized the gift they were and can be again, now, at a time when such a gift is more than welcome. And I missed the companion who was part of those earlier forays through the neighborhood, my beloved Dooley. It is a comfort, in a way, to trace the paths of which he was a constant part, and to recall his peppy gait, happy expressions, and overflowing personality. I can feel rekindled the joy that he was in my life, and let the warmth of that fill my heart. I see in this remembrance, as well, an invitation to reclaim a ritual of peace and grounding. It is well and good to find motivation in the acts and successes of others, but it is better still to be empowered from wtihin by my own capacity of strength and resilience.

So I am marking today as a new beginning. It will have its bumps and jolts, its fits and starts, but the need and desire to be launched is greater than a desire to indulge the ease of inertia. It is time, literally, to put one foot in front of the other and move. Walks with the dogs never brought me back to the house the same person I was when we ventured forth. I can be satisfied, for now, to measure momentum one step at a time. Before I know it those steps will give way to strides, and with those strides I will cover ground I can only imagine now.

Juliet is waiting patiently. My future cannot afford to wait any longer.

Prayers for a blessed Advent.

i detect a theme...

It's no secret that I am a dog lover, but this post isn't so much about dogs as it is about the inclination of the human heart to respond to the needs of others.

I happened upon a program on the Weather Channel yesterday that relates the story behind the famous Iditarod. I didn't know that the race commemorates what is known as the "Nome serum run." In January 1925, teams of mushers and their dogs worked in round-the-clock relays to get critical medicine to the town of Nome, Alaska when it experienced an outbreak of diphtheria. It is a wonderful and moving story about the dedication and determination of these mushers to risk their lives and the lives of their dogs to cover nearly 700 miles of ground (and frozen waterways) to deliver the serum to Nome and save its children from an inevitable epidemic. Just imagine Alaska in the dead of winter and you'll get a sense of the challenge of this operation.

The program included photographs of the people and places involved in the original story, reenactment segments, interviews with mushers, historians and biographers, and footage from a recent Iditarod race. Far better than most documentaries, it is a "feel good" story with something for everyone as story-telling goes. I highly recommend it as something worth watching on television.

It is also inspiring me, once again, to explore opportunities in my own community to become involved and make a difference in the lives of people in need. I really need to do something about that.

Note to self: mush!

it's a dog day sunday

While catching up with Project Runway I was thrilled to learn that the NY fabric store, Mood, has a shop dog named Swatch. Is that perfect, or what?

Swatch in his supporting role at Mood.

and

I've been quite spoiled by the professionals on "Dancing with the Stars," but no matter what, this dog takes the prize!

Thanks to my friend Yolande for sending me the link.

blessed art thou

Companions of my heart, laughter of my soul, kindlers of love and breath of acceptance.

Today we celebrate the blessing that pets bring to our lives.
These are two of mine, The Lady Juliet and the late Dooley.

I have shared before the joy these friends and beloveds have brought to my life (and Juliet still brings). Dogs continue to do so, even when she is feasting on expensive furniture, destroying the carpets, and ramping up the chaos with her boundless energy. At nine months old I confess I love her best when she sleeps, but she DOES make me laugh a lot. And to her advantage I also recall that Dooley was a bit of a terror in his early years. He also created the biggest hole in my heart when I lost him.

So, McKinlee, it is my prayer that today's blessing penetrates your soul with a little bit of compassion for your poor mama, and that God implants in my heart more expansive tolerance.
I see potential, I really do. For both of us.

man's best friend x 2

This seems an appropriate Sunday post. Enjoy!

(and thanks to my friend Yolande for sending this to me!)

eau de skunk

What's worse than the smell of skunk? The smell of skunk on a wet dog!

That was last week's adventure: a thunderstorm during which we discovered that Juliet had left the yard (she's been doing this of late, far too much) and been sprayed by a skunk. That was fun at 10:00 PM! Off to the store to get tomato juice and give her a bath, which sort of helped.

A call to our groomer/dog boarder alerted us to the ineffectiveness of tomato juice (it did help diminish the potency of the smell), and she put us on to what she uses: vanilla and baking soda. Seriously? I can handle that. And better yet, I think Juliet can handle that! And be sure to clean inside the ears, she told me. So off I went to stock up on vanilla (thank goodness for Dollar General) and refresh my supply of baking soda.

I tried to tell Juliet that she was having a day at the spa, but at home. She played nice long enough for me to get some vanilla worked in to portions of her face and then she bolted. Sigh. This was not going to be as simple as I thought.

In the meantime I got some further deskunking advice from a friend at church whose dogs have regular encounters with skunks. He affirmed the vanilla and baking soda, but added "Dawn" to the mix. I wasn't keen on the idea of Dawn on the dog, but what about shampoo!

Then Rigel started smelling like skunk, though fortunately not in the "oh god, keep your distance" kind of pungency. There is a lingering odor out in the yard around the vegetable garden, and McKinlee has wanted to sniff under the shed. "No! Danger Will Robinson!" INside the shed Ken says it smells like a dead animal, which would explain the buzzard I saw yesterday keeping an eye on our domain.

Several days into all of this I have learned the following:
It's not easy to coax a 50-60 pound dog into the bathtub.
It's even harder if you try to do this by yourself.
It's harder still to keep her there once you introduce smells that are unfamiliar to her.
Dogs don't like the sound of spray bottles.
The sour smell diminishes over time, leaving an odor resembling something akin to coffee beans.
Procrastination and denial are powerful allies when it comes to facing a challenging task.
After a while you don't smell the skunk spray on the dog unless you stick your nose up against their skin.

I know this must be done. Maybe today is the day. I covet your prayers for fortitude. I will gird my loins.

let your voice be heard!

Meet Rigel (pronounced like Nigel), our German short-haired pointer . He's really Ken's dog, but since I'm his Mama I get to claim him, too. And I really do love him. I do! Approaching two years of age he is still a big puppy, and I suspect he will be until the end of his days. He likes to nibble on your ears, is that not cute? And he loves to put anything in his mouth that will flop around, like underwear, or make noise, like an empty water bottle. These examples come from real life. Snap, crackle, pop, that's Rigel. Isn't he a handsome guy?

He's named for the brightest star in the constellation of Orion, and the sixth brightest star in the sky, in case you wondered. Orion is the hunter. See the solid white blotch on his forehead in the midst of the ticking? It looks starish, and since he's a hunting dog, well, it sort of worked. It took three days for that name to emerge, but once it did, it was golden, like the star God planted on his forehead. Rigel is also arabic for "left foot," its location in the constellation.

Anyway, I have a plan up my sleeve to do something for Ken's birthday and I can't decide which of these photos to use to execute my plan. They are really two photos, but cropped differently. He's a hard dog to photograph since he detests the camera and is probably ADD. The guy can't stay still for a moment unless he's sleeping or phasing into slumber. These two are the best of a bunch I shot the other day. I'd prefer that the shock collar not be so dominant, but what can I say. An expert (or even novice) in photoshop I am not!

I'd love your input on which view to use for my little project. You can "vote" in the comment section, or when I am able to place the "poll" on the sidebar you can make your opinion count there. The poll will stay open for another week or so, and then I will need to act on my plan. If you really feel strongly you can vote more than once!

One of these days I'll also post some pictures of Juliet, who never seems to get equal blog time. She is such a good girl that there are rarely antics to report. I'd like to have a portrait done of her (of all the dogs, eventually) now that I have found a wonderful painter who does dog portraits (thanks, Diane!!). Dooley (I miss you BooBoo!) will get first honors.

So what'll it be? Choice A, B, C or D? Vote early and often--it's allowed here!

PS. Does anyone know how to teach a dog to wipe his paws? I just cleaned the carpets and now there are lovely pawprints from where "a certain dog," as he has come to be known when the wind isn't blowing in his favor, has played in the dirt. Anyone?

puppy love

Rigel is camera-shy. I think he has begun to channel Brenna, my beloved Border Collie who died four years ago (has it been that long?) and had a strong aversion to the camera. The sound of the camera focusing or the popping open of the flash apperatus sends Rigel running.

When McKinlee began to cuddle with Rigel after their play episodes I wanted desperately to capture the coziness. Not so! Rigel would hear the camera and beat a retreat, spoiling not only the pose but my intentions as well. When they fell into this pose the other night I took the camera into the other room, forced the flash open and moved the lens setting to manual focus. I returned to the living room and got in position. Low light. Not good. Poor eyesight. Another check in the debit column. I tried as best I could and snapped. I hear the delay of the shutter and knew I was in trouble with a longer than desired exposure.

This is the result. I'll take it. It captured the moment and makes me smile, and however imperfect the image I now have it.

Now to devise a way to help Rigel overcome his camera phobia.

the dooley dogwood

It's been a bit over a year since we lost Dooley. I continue to miss him deeply, though I confess, as well, that McKinlee's presence has begun to patch the vast hole that Dooley's passing tore in my heart. When he died Mom sent us an azalea that was intended to be hardy and plantable. In the meantime a magnolia seedling that we had transplanted from Melrose showed evidence that it had not survived our transplant efforts. The next step was clear. We wanted a tree where the magnolia had been, and a dogwood was next in line.

This spring as trees came into bud and began to bloom I crossed my fingers that my care-taking through the last seaon had been sufficient for the dogwood to take root and survive. More than that, I was eager for it to bloom. Bloom it did! The flowers are plentiful and radiant, and a new shoot has appeared just below the branch I had to cut off where Rigel had found a young limb to claim as his after planting.

It's a treat to have this favorite tree planted in memory of my beloved Boolah (a nickname), and for it to thrive and bloom. It will be with joy that I watch it grow and flourish in the years to come, just as my love for Dooley did.

bittersweet

It was that kind of day yesterday. I did some errands, after which I stopped by the kennel for a puppy fix. I never know what dogs will be there. Sometimes dogs arrive and get adopted within a matter of days. All I knew was that I needed to spend a little time with whoever was there, get my face licked and my fingers gnawed and hold 'em and love 'em.

There were four there. Three were male, and I decided that if I was going to think about taking one home, it would be female. Memories of Rigel lifting his leg and marking the furniture were just too fresh... The-one-yet-to-be-named, pictured here, came home with me. She's a snuggler, a necessary quality this time around, and though she will probably get bigger than I would prefer, she's here for a test-drive. Is she not cute? We have no idea of her lineage but that doesn't really matter. What is known is that she and a couple of litter-mates were dropped off at the Lowe's parking lot and left behind. We think we'll keep her.

A few hours into life in puppy kingdom the phone rang. It was my friend Jayne, with bad news. Jayne and I met through the Episcopal message board on beliefnet. After months of logging messages she figured out that I lived about an hour from her and we arranged to meet. Enjoyable message-mates became fast friends, and while I was in Sewanee it was possible to get together with some regularity and gab for hours. Since moving from the mountain we don't see each other, something that has got to change (I really miss you, Jayne!).

Anyway, her news. She had just learned that another friend from beliefnet had committed suicide on Sunday. Lee was one of those people who lived in real time. He wasn't afraid to tell you what was on his mind, had a quick and sharp wit, and was just as quick to offer affirmation and acclamation to all who visited the board (unless you consistently ticked him off, in which case he expressed semi-polite toleration). Several years ago Lee was diagnosed with an uncommon cancer, an event that triggered a series of crises with which he battled to the end. No matter his issues, however, he was a support to the people he had come to know and befriend in a virtual community. He touched many lives, one of which was mine. In fact, I heard from him just a few weeks ago, checking in with me since we hadn't been in touch in a while, and I wrote him back eager to catch up. Now he is gone. As I write this the tears flow anew for a friend who brightened so many worlds, and made the world richer with laughter and smiles.

In the same day I gained and lost love. Days like that have a way of fusing events together, such that the memories blur and become one distinct impression. I am thinking that perhaps the one-yet-to-be-named might take on Lee's name to honor the friend who I pray has found peace. McKinley. I'll call her Kinlee to keep her name from becoming a mouthful. It has dignity but isn't stuffy. It's distinct, as was Lee, and as she grows she will attach to it her own unique personality. That sounds a bit like redemption--entirely fitting.

Welcome Kinlee; joy and balm for my heart. Farewell, Lee; good and faithful servant.