I can’t remember a time in my life that there wasn’t either an actual dog or a dog’s spirit in my life. My first dog slept under the covers with me, paws holding down the covers and head on the pillow. I think my 3 year old self pretended we were siblings. I was “picked” by our family’s sheep dog BA…the least bad ass Pyrenees mix ever to grace a sheep ranch. (He did a great job protecting both me and the sheep tho, softie that he was.)
Even if I’ve never really considered myself to be a “dog person”, they’ve always cast a shadow in my life and in my heart. There is something about that happy soul, so glad to see a person that makes life better. And yes, cats and rats and bunnies and horses and all sorts of animals do the same thing. But for lots of folks, there is just something about having a dog in one’s life that makes things better. Continue reading
We are creatures of habit, you and I. I can’t think of a single aspect of my life where my old habits don’t rise up and try to take over. In situations like flossing, that’s a pretty good coping strategy. But a plate of cookies on a stressful day or being sarcastic when angry…not so much.
I have another habit of circular speak. I don’t mean circular logic but something more along the lines of taking a long way around to get to my point. Back when I was teaching, I often would interrupt my lecture to tell students, “Hang in there. The circle will round.” The way my brain works simply isn’t in a short, straight path. Never has, and apparently never will be. Continue reading
I’m guessing you are having a hell of a time making a connection between fleas and anything zen, and I’d have to agree with you. But that’s what occurred to me as I opened a window to type. It may have had something to do with looking down at my dog’s butt next to me on the couch and watching a damn flea scurry across it. So, yeah, that’s how my day is going.
It isn’t much of a surprise really, considering how much my cat is scratching herself – she looks a bit frantic about the whole thing. Which tells me I have a problem.
And problems don’t tend to have much in common with zen. Continue reading
I have a dog. Charlie is his name. Aside from a few traumatic times in his life such as being homeless and when someone who shall be unnamed amputated his tale in the door, he’s had a pretty great life. We buy him the kibble he likes best, mix it with the wet food he likes best, and then add bits and pieces of steak or pork chops while begging him to end his latest hunger strike. We had to get a bigger couch to accommodate his napping needs. And he has many, many dog toys strewn about the house, yard and even the couch. I mean, what about his life doesn’t sound pretty great, aside from the hygiene techniques and hot sidewalks?
If I could be Charlie, I’d love it. Well, I’d love a few aspects of it, especially the running bit.
I’m posting this late due to meeting my Monday morning time Bandit. Yes, Bandit, the little dude who stole my morning.
I got the kids off to school and went for a run and had breakfast and was heading into the shower all before 9:30. Yes, it looked like my day was sure to be golden. The glorious golden kind of day where you manage to cross all the items off your to-do list and still have time to sit down for a cup of coffee. But then my phone rang. Continue reading
If I was a smart blogger, I’d have a few emergency blog posts all spit-shined and ready to go in the unlikely event of a water landing, so to speak. But I’m not much of a smart blogger apparently because this morning when I looked in desperation at my draft blogs, they all suck in various amounts. So here I am, typing away with a tear-streaked face and a sad panda little self.
My Mondays and Fridays start a bit crazy as I get the kids all set for school in a mad-dash kind of way, then they get nice and mellow as I sit in my comfy office chair with a cup of coffee and type up whatever comes to mind. And it really looked like that would be today’s happy matter as well. Until I caught my dog’s tail in the storm door on our way back from the bus stop. Continue reading
I’ve recently celebrated a birthday and so am in the mood to think about the gifts I received. Thinking of thanking people, that is my version of thank you cards. These days I am so surrounded by gifts, it is nearly impossible to not be overwhelmed with the gifts, let alone the polite society responses I should be making.