Sunday, February 15, 2009

Hello Dog

I'm back to this blog after a long hiatus. For the last eight months my primary focus has been healing and rehabbing after my bike accident.

I wasn't back to normal life yet, but had it in my sights when I got another blow -my mom became ill and died quite suddenly.

When we were talking with the minister about her in preparation for her service, one of the things that we mentioned was that she loved animals. And she did. Years ago I'd rescued a kitten who turned out to have feline leukemia. Since I had two healthy cats, I couldn't take him in.

My mom adopted Charlie, and while his life was short (three years) he was well loved. On days he wasn't doing well, my mom would put aside her to-do list to hold him in her lap for hours at the time.

After Charlie's death, she kept my cats for me when I was out of town. As time passed, it became harder and harder for me to get them back. She tried to convince me that they'd begged to live with her full time.

Finally, for Mother's Day I found a wonderful cat at the shelter. Sitting in the parking lot of the Humane Society, I broached the idea. My mom declared she didn't need a cat. In an underhanded moment, I suggested she "just go in and see the cat."

That was all it took. Little Bit remains a cherished member of the family to this day.

But the pet connection that makes me smile most when I think of her is the one she had with my dog, Oakley. My mom was against my getting a dog. She said I didn't have time for one, the cats didn't want one, there were a hundred reasons not to have one. When I brought my unbelievably cute puppy by her house to introduce to my parents, my mom was working in the yard. I brought Oakley up the hill to meet her.

"Hello dog" she said without enthusiasm.

Oakley became "that dog" to her. I was spending too much time and money on "that dog." I was inconveniencing my elderly cats because of "that dog." I was doing too many obedience training classes with "that dog."

Then I had my accident. I stayed with my folks for three weeks until I was able to go back home. Once home, I was still in a wheelchair for another six weeks or so, so my mom came by each night to check on things and help me out.

Something magical happened between she and Oakley in that time. Maybe she discovered what a fine thing it is to receive the no holds barred, wide open heart welcome of a dog who's glad to see you. Maybe being around her more made my mom see what a gift Oakley is and what a great dog she is.

However it happened, "that dog" became "my buddy." She'd come in telling me how happy Oakley had been to see her drive up. She'd talk baby talk to her and ask if she'd missed her grandmother. She'd rub her head and scratch behind her ears. In short, Oakley got one paw in the door, and that was all it took to find her way into my mom's heart.

Sunday, June 8, 2008

What about your pets?

As the emergency Room bustled around me, I lay in my bed thinking about everything that needed to be taken care of. Out for a morning bike ride, I'd been hit by car. While my injuries were not as serious as they could have been, I knew that I wouldn't be going home that night.

One of my questions concerned my pets. Who would take care of them? My cats would be easily cared for by family members who could visit my home each day to feed them and clean out their litter trays. But what about Oakley?

Part of my concern was that right now, Oakley functions as a very good guard dog. She takes almost any one's approach to the door as a challenge to be defended. When I'm home, I put her in her crate and she immediately becomes submissive. But we're still working on that part of the training. But who could I trust to pick her up?

I finally hit upon the plan to ask her former trainer, and the owner of the kennel where she boards, to pick her up and keep her. Oakley was glad to see an old friend, and gladly went with her to "camp."


I was lucky to be able to work out something easily. But the experience drove home for me the need to have plans in place. The Humane society urges owners to have a disaster plan in place. However, whenever I've heard this, I've thought of a situation where I would be in charge.

All pet owners should have some kind of plan for what would happen if they were unable to be home or care for their pets.

A postscript to this story - The night before my accident Oakley and I finished our Canine Good Citizen class. One of the things we practiced was walking on a loses leash in a crowd, with distractions. One of those distractions was a wheel chair. Since I'll be in a wheelchair for at least a couple of weeks after Oakley gets home, the timing was perfect!

Monday, May 26, 2008

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Small signs of hope



As happy as I was when I adopted my puppy, Oakley, my two cats were just as disgusted. They were nearly ten years old and had had a fine run as the only pets in the house.

While living in our previous house, I'd rescued a couple of kittens who'd wandered into my yard, but they were short-timers, off soon enough to their own home (that is, not with us). But this loud, fast-growing DOG was giving every indication that she was moving in for good.

Perhaps I was too careful in the introduction phase. Or perhaps my aging and slightly arthritic cats wouldn't have welcomed an energetic puppy under any circumstances. Regardless, it's not exactly been the peaceable kingdom around here.

Oakley, for her part, has a huge fascination with and unrequited love for the cats. She invites them to play on a regular basis, offering an eager play bow. Her invitations are either met with a cold shoulder (Rosie gets under the bed) or hissing, spitting and an occasional right cross (from Maxie, the alpha cat.)

That's why I was caught off guard the other night. It was bedtime, and I was escorting Oakley into the
den. Maxie came out of the bedroom, which she usually does this time of night in order the inform me that it's time to stop playing with that stupid dog and to feed them.

They met in the hallway. Oakley, half-asleep, paused and lowered her head. Maxie, speechless for once in her life, raised a tentative nose to Oakley. They touched noses, then Oakley ambled on towards her bed.


Maybe it's not such a big thing for you. Certainly it doesn't rank up there with the Camp David Middle East peace accords.

But you now, sometimes in life a small moment of hope, just one moment where something shifts and is different, is enough.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

You dirty dog, part two


Timing is everything!

I just discovered that Lees Carpets is having a Muddiest Pet contest.

Entries are accepted until June 15.
If you think your pet may have what it takes, go here for more info.

Just remember what you'll be going up against!

Monday, May 19, 2008

You dirty dog

Oakley and I had our first visit to our local dog park this past weekend. Walking the long path from the parking lot to the park, Oakley nearly drove herself crazy trying to sniff out everyone who'd come before her. I kept trying to tell her that this wasn't even the best part. She didn't believe me.

We were both a little shy upon entering. I thought Oakley would do well, based on her experience at her kennel, but I wasn't sure. And while I knew she performed her recall perfectly in class, she wasn't always interested in coming in from her backyard. How would she respond when given a big lot to roam?


One of the regulars greeted us, and made us feel at home. Oakley hung around me for a few minutes, but then got over her shyness. She did a trot around the center circle of trees, looking like a dog show champion. Then the fun really started.


She ran with the other dogs and chased a frisbee with them. She greeted newcomers at the gate. She raced another dog with third dog, a hound, baying a running play by play behind them. It brought me such joy to see her so completely be a dog, and a happy one at that.

Like moms at the park, I hung out around the picnic tables and talked with other owners, keeping half an eye on my "kid."Evidently I got distracted for a moment. I heard someone exclaim, "That dog just did a belly flop into the mud puddle." I saw a brown dog streaking through the grass, and wondered whose dog it was.

Then I realized it was mine. My tan and white dog was now a muddy brown all over... except for the great big grin on her face. Then she ecstatically rolled in the dirt.

Once we were home, it took two baths to get her clean, followed by a thorough cleaning of my tub. But her joy was so infectious I couldn't really be upset.
We'll be back to the dog park, and hopefully soon. But this time, I'll watch out for the puddles!

Friday, May 16, 2008

This might be the one

She was working the booth across from mine, with beautiful Siberian Huskies serving as very effective attention getters. On the last afternoon I chatted with her as I enjoyed the company of an extremely sweet and loving husky. She told me that she'd gotten into fostering rescues after the death of her own beloved dog. The house didn't seem right without a dog , but her hurting heart wasn't quite ready to form a lifetime bond with another dog quite yet.

This dog was one in a line of several fosters with whom she's shared her home. "This one's special," she said. "there's just something about her." She stroked the dog's head, smiling mostly to herself. "I think this might be the one we keep."


Animals heal us in many ways. Sometimes it's the pet who wriggles their way into our hearts, teaching us how to love and to care again, teaching us that not only can we love again (or for the first time), but we are worthy and capable of receiving love. Sometimes they heal by their steady presence when the rest of our lives is in upheaval. And sometimes they help us heal by nudging us back to life.


Sometimes people who are grieving the loss of a pet volunteer at a shelter or for a rescue group. It's a way of keeping a connection until they are ready to open their homes again.

Monday, April 21, 2008

Why don't you help the people?

I've just finished up two days of exhibiting at the Denver Family Pet Expo. While the days were long, it was fun to see lots of dogs and cats and to meet the people who care about them.

Over the next couple of weeks I'll be sharing some stories from the expos along with some pictures... including pictures of dogs and kitten available for adoption!

One of the women I talked with has invested a lot of her time and energy into dog rescue. She said that occasionally people say to her, "Why don't you help people?" Her answer always is, "But I do." She brings joy to the lives of families when they adopt just the perfect family dog from her. She works a lot with senior adult adoptions, both for seniors still living at home and for assisted living centers and nursing homes. She knows how much love and life those animals bring to the lives of those seniors, and she's careful to place dogs that have the right size and temperament for older adults.

I truly believe that we all have our callings, those passions that pull at out hearts. I have so many things that I love and causes that I believe are truly important. However, I only have a limited amount of time, energy and money. So, I have to find the ones that has my name on it.

For my friend at the expo, it was rescuing abused and abandoned dogs, and finding them good homes. For you, it may be building houses through Habitat for Humanity. A couple I know, whose children are long grown, are passionate about the welfare of all of the children in the schools in their city.

The beauty of this life is that if we all are faithful to those callings in our own lives, there will be more than enough hands and hearts to embrace the multitude of needs in this world.


Thursday, April 17, 2008

An Engineer's Guide to Cats

Just in case you were wondering about the scientific aspect of cat ownership, check out this link:
An Engineer's guide to Cats

Caution: If viewing at work, be prepared to have to try to stifle a few chuckles and perhaps a laugh or two!

Andy's Garden

One of the things that I often suggest to people who are grieving the loss of a pet is that they create some kind of memorial as a way of remembering that pet. There's something about having work to do that helps our grief flow through our fingertips. For those of us who love digging in the dirt, there's something healing and therapeutic about that connection with earth. A garden is a lovely way to remember a pet, for the life of the pet is celebrated with the living-ness of the plants and flowers that grow.

My friends David and Teresa have just lost their beautiful white cat, Andy. Here you can read about Andy's memorial garden.