Tag Archives: dogs

Berkshire Mountain Visit

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This week I visited a good friend at her wonderfully quiet country home in the Berkshire Mountains. Her home overlooks a heavily wooded valley surrounded by mountains, with almost no noise other than the music of birds and the rustling of wind through pines. Spring hasn’t made much of an appearance there yet, and the ground was covered with snow (they got 8″ on Monday!). Cheryl, like me, loves the outdoors and also loves quiet time hanging out with tea and dogs, either talking about life or just quietly enjoying the beauty of the mountain scenery outside her windows.

We hiked through the snowy woods with Cheryl’s three dogs, watching birds and looking at tracks in the snow (we saw some that we think are fisher tracks) and counting melted spots in the snow where deer had slept the night before. I kept walking with my neck craned to see if I could spot an owl in the pine trees, but alas, they stayed well-hidden. Afterwards I sat at her dining room table to sketch and paint the rainy view and draw some of the many birch trees. Although warm temperatures are ideal for being outside, and sunshine makes for brilliant colors and striking shadows, I also love the muted colors of misty days.

Berkshire Mountain View
New Lebanon View
Birch Trees

 

Cheryl and I both love food, so we cooked and ate a delicious dinner together (and I got some great  new recipes to cook for Stephen). Being relaxed and full of good food after a busy few weeks, I was ready to go to bed early, and I slept to the music of the most beautiful-sounding wind chimes I’ve ever heard. The wind rose and fell during the night, with the lullaby of the chimes as a soothing background to my dreams.

In the morning we relaxed, read, and played with the dogs. Between rain showers, I stood on the deck to paint quickly in brief sessions, before the wind blew my palette away and froze my fingers. We’re just on the cusp of plein air painting season, and the weather seemed to vacillate between winter and spring every few minutes all morning.

Berkshire Mountains
New Lebanon

When it was too windy, wet, and chilly to stand outside painting, I curled up on the couch wrapped in a soft blanket with a mug of tea in the cozy den overlooking the valley. One of the dogs, Tessa, a German Shepherd Dog, is getting a bit old and the stairs are a challenge, so she stayed downstairs with me when Cheryl went up to do some morning chores. Tessa watched and waited for Cheryl, her ears constantly tuned to every movement and sound from upstairs, a perfect example of the devotion of a good German Shepherd, and a perfect subject for sketching.

German Shepherd Dog sketches
Tessa watching and waiting

I’m home now, rested and refreshed by the enveloping peace of the mountains, by relaxing time with a good friend, and by the opportunity to sketch in a leisurely manner.

Quiet Day Musings

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Today I am enjoying my weekly Quiet Day, a day when I savor the gifts of silence and solitude, with unhurried time to read, reflect, pray, ponder, walk, and write.

This morning I took a leisurely walk with Petra.

I relaxed in my rocking chair with hot green tea in a pretty mug (I always choose a pretty mug on my Quiet Day) and Acadia purring on my lap.

I sat on the floor beside Rowan, running my fingers through his soft, luxurious coat, feeling his warmth and the gentle tickle of his whiskers as he sniffed my face, thankful for all the time I have with my aging boy.

I laughed as Milo played gleefully, his tail and ears going in all directions with his irrepressible joy.

I watched and sketched squirrels and birds, always lively on our deck, not trying to do great sketches, but just capturing the moment.

Often, when I am feeling wound up with too long a to-do list or with concerns that weigh on my mind or with the busyness of this time of year, my animals help me slow down and return to the present, where I regain perspective and where worries take their place behind gratitude. I am thankful for a full life, for quiet moments that help me appreciate that fullness, and for the peace God gives as he reminds me of his presence through his creation.

A Reprieve and a Gift: My Dog is Back

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A warm breeze whispered across my face and, looking down, I saw it rumpling Rowan’s red fur as he glanced up, then smiled his wide doggy grin as he caught my eye and held my gaze. My dog is back and I am happy.

A few weeks ago I didn’t know if Rowan would still be with me much longer. For months I’d been feeling like our bond wasn’t as strong as it had been and, as is my wont, I figured I was to blame. Was I so distracted and fulfilled by having a grandchild that I no longer valued my relationship with my dog as much? Maybe I was too preoccupied with my search for and then delight in my new cat, Acadia. Or was I just too busy training other people’s dogs and getting ready for my February art show?

Whatever the reason, there seemed to be an increasing distance between Rowan and me, and he seemed less and less interested in being with me. Whereas previously, when I would ask if he wanted to go somewhere with me (“with me” being the magic words), Rowan would leap up and run to the door; in recent months when I’d ask, he’d skulk into his crate and lie down with his back to the entrance. He’s always been eloquent in his communication with me, and that was a pretty clear message. I would leave the house alone, with his place both in my car and in my heart empty.

Additionally, we’d been seeing some odd behaviors from Rowan from time to time. Startling more and more often for no apparent reason. Some inexplicable housebreaking issues, and this from a dog who always used to ask to go out even when he just needed to pass gas. Disorientation and indecision in the house. Repeatedly getting “stuck” under the picnic table right outside the door. A part of me knew I was seeing early (or perhaps not-so-early) signs of dementia, also known as Canine Cognitive Dysfunction, but I really wasn’t ready to put it all together.

Then one day I came across a piece I’d written about Rowan a few years ago, and I started to cry as I realized that I hadn’t seen that dog in months. I finally recognized it wasn’t me; that Rowan really had changed and that he wasn’t the same dog who’d been inseparable from me, who used to go everywhere with me and who knew my moods and state of mind and body better than I did myself. I’d made the wrenching decision to retire Rowan from Service Dog work a few months before when it was apparent he was no longer up to going places with me, but I thought it was due to arthritis. Now I realized it was because he was no longer connected with me in the same deep way he’d been for the preceding eleven years.

With a mixture of fear and despondency I called my vet and was relieved when she was hopeful. She suggested I try giving Rowan SAMe, which is used for cognitive issues in dogs and cats, and also a nutritional supplement, on the premise that even though he’s eating a high quality diet, he may be absorbing fewer nutrients as he ages. She told me it would take about four weeks for the SAMe to make a difference.

I thought I saw some changes within a week, but knew it could be wishful thinking. But now, five weeks later, Rowan is back! Yes, he still seems a bit disoriented in the house occasionally, but he’s not getting stuck under the picnic table anymore, there’ve been no more housebreaking incidents (not that we’ve given him the opportunity), he’s startling much less often, and best of all, he is back to being my loving, connected companion. Now when I ask if he wants to go with me, Rowan leaps up and runs to the door, dancing with excitement. He follows me around the house again, and he comes to me often asking for affection.

I don’t know how long this reprieve will last, nor do I know whether he will decline gradually or depart from me all at once, but for now I am cherishing every day as a gift. And when I look down now, and I see those familiar, intelligent eyes and that happy smile that I know so well, I thank God for more time with this wonderful dog who has blessed me in so many ways.

Rowan in his spot in my car

Happy 11th Birthday, Rowan!

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Happy Birthday to my wonderful Rowan, the dog who, in some ways, knows me better than I know myself. It’s hard to believe my boy is eleven, except when I remember how his face used to have much stronger color. He’s not really going gray, he’s going white (kind of like me). He used to have such strong reddish color around his eyes, and that has all faded, making his eyes seem darker. That just highlights for me how much Rowan watches me– those dark eyes are following me much of the day, with his characteristic head bob showing when he’s trying to figure out what I’m going to do next. I love seeing that subtle little bob, as he watches me walking along and tries to figure out which way I’ll turn.

He’s slowing down some, and often prefers to sit in the shade and watch Petra and Milo run, but every now and then he gets a spurt of energy and runs through the yard, his magnificent coat waving in the breeze.

If I say “Just Rowan,” he leaps up from the hearth where he’s usually sleeping and comes running, knowing that he’s going to be the only dog to go outside with me. We were just outside this evening having some birthday fun, just Rowan and me, playing one of our favorite games. I either tell him to wait or sneak around to the far side of something, in this case a bunch of flowers, and then turn to face Rowan. Rowan will sit or stand tall watching me for a moment, then race around to join me, while I try to beat him around to the other side. He always catches up to me, and we laugh together.

We’ve been playing this game for 11 years now and neither of us has
tired of it. I hope I get to play it with my boy for many more years and get to have him walking by my side watching my every move for a long time to come.

Happy Birthday, Rowan! You are a joy and a blessing in so many ways.

Nine years ago today…

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Nine years ago, a little red puppy was born. I didn’t meet her until three weeks later, when I fell in love with a small, sweet puppy who snuggled into my arms and fell asleep.

That may have been a ploy on her part, as that was the last time we saw her asleep until several years had passed.

 Years full of running…

playing with friends…

 

jumping for joy…

leaping up trees…

 watching for us to come home

being a little sister to Rowan…

 

snuggling on laps…

and being a faithful shadow..

I can’t imagine life without this little red dog. She is my companion whenever I slip out at night to savor the starlight or walk under the full moon. She curls quietly beside my chair whenever I sit to read. She has a contagious way of living fully in the moment that helps me see and experience the fullness of life. With all her idiosyncrasies and quirks, she occupies a unique spot in our home, and with all her devotion and love, she fills our hearts.

Happy Birthday, Petra, and may you have many more years of exuberance and joy!

Birds and Dogs in the Snow

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I know, snow is not a newsy worthy event by now, with the many snowstorms we’ve been having this winter, but I am still loving it. Today the snow is falling with large, lazy flakes, making for a muted, serene landscape. The view may be quiet and peaceful looking, but the birds are full of vim and vigor. Twenty or more Goldfinches vie for the best spots at our feeders, chasing off larger birds and getting in repeated airborne spats with one another. Our local bully, a large, confident Mourning Dove is back, claiming a one yard length of the deck railing. Whenever another bird ventures onto “his” section of railing, the Bully fluffs up to almost twice his normal size and rushes at the other bird, which hurriedly leaves. The Cardinals started their spring songs this past week, and the Titmice have been filling the air with their clarion notes for a while, so even though it looks like winter, it’s starting to sound like spring.
 Stephen and I have shoveled pathways through the snow– our “Cat in the Hat” paths, which encircle our yard, so that I can walk and the dogs run around. Petra is usually dashing full tilt ahead of me, careening off the paths to leap up trees or just plow with delight through the deep snow, while Milo trots steadily behind me, around and around and around, wagging his tail the whole time. Rowan spends much of his time “grazing” on bird seed that has spilled beneath the feeders, but he comes running any time he thinks I’m going to throw snowballs. Both Aussies loves to leap at the snow I toss aside when shoveling, and there’s been plenty of that to amuse them, and even Milo gets in on the shoveling fun sometimes.

Happy 10th Birthday, Milo!

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It is hard to believe that my little Milo Bean is ten years old. He is as full of spunk and fun as ever, playing and making me laugh every day, which is his primary job in life. He rips around the yard playing chase with Petra, and though she is faster, he has more endurance and isn’t even panting when she’s lying in the grass to catch her breath after many wild loops up and down hills and around trees, shrubs, and the old hay rake. During a fast game of chase, Milo loves to run full tilt to the inside of the hay rake, then peer at Petra through the tines, baying and teasing her to come and get him. Those two are the best of friends, and watching them play can lift my spirits any day. 

Sometimes Milo is seized by the simple joy of running, and he takes off skimming in giant loops around the yard, tail out behind him, ears streaming back, moving with surprising grace (unusual for him, since normally all four legs move comically in four different directions), ignoring Petra and Rowan, just caught up in the joy of the moment. Whenever he does that, Stephen and I have to stop whatever we’re doing and watch; it’s impossible to ignore such pure delight in being alive.

No matter how caught up in play with Petra or running with abandon, though, if I call him, Milo immediately banks in my direction, races to my feet with delight and enthusiasm, and stops with a huge smile on his face and wagging tail. I think I often underestimate this little dog. Because he is all hound, he has the intense interest in scents of any sort that comes with being a scent hound, and can seem to block everything else out when he’s following a rabbit trail, but even so, in his mind and heart, I trump all that, and he will drop a trail to race to me the moment I call his name.

In addition to all the fun and laughter, Milo is a first class snuggler and lap-warm, loving to curl up on my lap and sleep for as long as I sit and read. Recently, too, he has decided that Steve is the most wonderful fire-provider, and we are sure that Milo thinks Steve gets the fireplace going just for Beagle-warming purposes.

How could I not adore my marvelous Milo Bean. Happy Birthday, Milo! I hope you share many more years of joy with me.

Coming!
Indicating an article when tarcking
Sunbathing
Happy Milo

Happy 10th Birthday, Rowan!

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Funny, brilliant, silly, sweet, watchful, and so much more. In some ways it’s hard to believe my furry boy is ten years old. In other ways, it’s hard to believe he hasn’t always been with me. Rowan takes his job seriously– to watch over me and remind me to take care of myself. If I am late for a meal, he comes to me, snorting loudly, to tell me I need to attend to something. If I don’t figure out what he’s talking about (or I ignore him), he’ll bark to let me know it’s important. As soon as I “get it” and walk into the kitchen, he lies down and goes to sleep, knowing that he’s done his job and communicated successfully with me.

I know Rowan can’t read, but one time I came into the room to find him lying with this pillow leaning up against him. It had been on the chair when I left the room, and no one else was home at the time. I don’t know how he knew I needed that message that day, but he made sure I couldn’t miss it.

Rowan also watches over the other animals in our home and runs to check them if they yelp or start throwing up or suddenly start to limp, and often has then run to me and led me to the animal who needs my attention. When I was visiting a friend a few months ago, he alerted her to her blood sugar being too high. I call him my EMT dog– he’s a first responder here in our family.

Life isn’t serious all the time, though. Rowan loves to play, whether with a toy or a an empty flower pot. When I’m gardening he hovers, waiting for me to get the plant out of the pot, then he grabs the flower pot and runs, cavorting like a puppy, sometimes with the flower pot covering his whole face.

Happy Birthday, Rowan, my wonderful boy, and may you have many more! I am blessed to have you in my life.

 

PJ– July 2001 to May 28, 2013

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PJ was my friend Sarah’s dog, and I got to know her well while I was pet-sitting when Sarah would travel. Later on PJ spent a fair amount of time with me and always fit in as a sweet, happy member of our family.

It was a kind of grace to be
PJ’s friend. She came to Sarah as an unsocialized, semi-feral puppy, and Sarah slowly, patiently taught her to trust. Over time PJ became more and more social and ended up loving people, but when I first met her as a two-year-old, she was still quite
reserved. I immediately felt an affinity for this shy, camouflaged
sprite, who so loved being quietly outside by herself, and I always felt
it was a gift and a privilege to have her trust. Sarah often said that PJ had the same personality as I, but in a dog’s body. Maybe that is why PJ and I connected right away; I felt as though we understood each other without words.

PJ was an observer. She spent much of her days watching and waiting in eager expectation. Hour by hour contentedly watching a tree in which she knew a squirrel sometimes foraged. Waiting patiently for a woodchuck to come out of its hole. Watching and waiting while a squirrel walked within a few yards of her on the deck. Weather rarely deterred PJ, and she would frequently ask to stay outside when the other dogs came in.
Watching the Horse Chestnut tree on a rainy day

Watching the world with her, whether slowly
meandering through the woods on leash, investigating every interesting
scent, or roaming fields searching for something moving subtly under the
grass, or sitting on the deck with her watching her watch a tree for hours, opened my eyes to much
that I may otherwise have missed. During times when I might otherwise have been stressed, PJ often helped cultivate a peaceful spirit in me, attentive to easily-overlooked but fascinating aspects of the natural world around my home.
My shadow and PJ, enjoying a winter woods walk

 I miss the gentle tap on my elbow or soft poke behind my knee that were
her quiet ways of saying, “Hi, I’m here with you.” I would turn to see
those bright eyes, that sweet expression or happy grin, and her wagging tail. I miss the
thump, thump, thump of her tail on the floor whenever I’d look in her
direction. I miss her uniquely beautiful ears that would twitch slightly in my direction to greet me, when she was “watching.”


PJ, beloved scruffy girl, I miss
your gentle spirit and quiet zest for life. I will watch and wait and remember all you taught me.

A young PJ, in pencil
watercolor sketch done in the field
How to Appreciate a Tree, by PJ

Fun in the Snow!

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One of the things I love about my dogs is the way they make me smile and laugh and play. I know I could play in the snow without them, but I doubt I would as much, and I know I wouldn’t laugh as much as I do with them. We had 12 inches of snow last night, which was perfect for snow fun today.

Nothing like a good roll in the snow

Petra bursting out of the snow
Milo, the rate prick-eared Beagle
 

Oopsie!
PJ bursting forth
My handsome Rowan

Leaping for snowballs!
Biting snowballs!
 

Cool shadow
What’s under the snow?
 

Petra! How did you get up so high?
Let me try…
 
Watch me, Rowan!. Look how high I can jump!
Now jump with me…
There you go! Nice height, Rowan!
That was fun!
Watch me run!
I’ll run with you, PJ…
Thank you for the fun!