Maeve does not like rain. So much so that she will hold her business until the drops stop falling from the sky. She will ask to go out and stand by the door wagging her tail, but once the door is open and she takes a few steps out, she will stop, turn around and head to "her couch," giving us a look like, "Are you crazy? Water is falling from the sky..."

So, on our first snowy day--really snowy, and really cold, we wondered...will she go out? Or will she hold it? Until spring???

Well, no worries! She loves the snow, and the cold. She pretty much treats it like a warm spring day...

Maggie...well...she likes some snow, but the bitter cold brings her running back inside pretty fast.

The only problem with Maeve liking the snow is finding her when she's out in it.

With this in mind, we welcome Maeve. She spent the first year of her life unwanted, discarded and wandering. Someone finally called animal control, but in rural Kentucky, controlling the stray dog population usually has a pretty grim outcome for the dogs. But someone was watching over Maeve, and rescue swooped in (www.stopthesuffering.org). Maeve's future prospects grew brighter. She came to Ohio in February and had a loving foster home with a lovely lady, and for the first time, she had a soft place to lie down at night and food that was given to her every day, and medical care, and baths, and loving attention. And then I saw her on Petfinder. I wasn't looking for a Great Pyrenees. I was looking for a Golden Retriever, but Maeve kept coming up. I even requested an application from another rescue for another dog, but there was a delay, and that dog disappeared from the online list, so I inquired about Maeve.....and now she's here. She can't be officially ours until next week, but we feel like she's ours already. I know she appreciates the soft beds and the regular food supply and the big yard and her new little buddy, Maggie, but the thing she likes best is love and attention, demonstrated by belly rubs, neck scratching, and head rubbing. She is relentless in her pursuit of affection, and once you start petting, she tries her hardest to never let you stop, and she is pretty irresistible. So, if you come by to visit her, be prepared to stay a while. 

Welcome to the family, Maeve. We love you already.

To all the doggy daddies out there...we appreciate all you do. Happy Father's Day!

I hope all your Christmas dreams came true...

Thinking of Teddy at Christmas

It's Christmas night,
and I'll be alright,
but there's something that I'm missing.

It's not a toy,
but a golden boy,
whose nose I was used to kissing.

The gifts were great;
there were at least forty-eight,
and I'm sure some came a quite a cost,

but wouldn't it be nice,
no matter what the price,
if we could get back someone that we've lost?

He comes back in my dreams,
or so it seems;
I've only slept for six nights, maybe seven,

and when I wake up
I still miss my pup.
I can't wait to kiss him in heaven.

It's hard to feel gratitude when you're grieving. It's easier to feel angry,and cheated, and depressed. But feeling those things wouldn't honor Teddy, his memory, or the God that have him to me. And even though my heart is broken and I miss Teddy terribly, I have a lot to be thankful for. For one thing, take a look at the cards and flowers we received to mark his passing. And that doesn't include the email, blog comments, phone calls and in-person support from a number of other friends, and family. I am deeply thankful for each and every one of those cards and comments and calls, for the effort expended in selecting or making those cards and actually mailing them. I will keep them always as part of Teddy's scrapbook, and I'll print out those emails and comments, too. Thank you all for validating the loss of a very best friend.

I am also thankful that I had a great dog for ten years, that I was able to spend a lot of time with him during those ten years, that, up until this final illness, those ten years were really healthy and happy. I am thankful for the ad in the paper and the phone call from my mother and the chain of events that led me to him. I am thankful for every walk I had with him almost every night for ten years, an activity which is probably one of my greatest joys in life...walking my dog, listening to my iPod, especially under the night sky in the brisk of fall and winter. This winter will not be the same.

I am thankful that we had the funds to give him the best medical care available and that Teddy was treated so well by all the hands that helped him, even right up to the end. I am thankful for, in the words of my vet, a gentle death, and two kind and understanding people to help him make that transition. Teddy was the only being in that room that didn't struggle that evening. 

I am beyond thankful for a husband who understands "how I am" about my dogs and didn't bulk at extraordinary vet bills (buying time is very expensive) and stepped in when I couldn't do any more and who was willing to sleep on the couch downstairs so I wouldn't be alone with Teddy on his last night because Teddy could not climb the stairs one more time. [He's also really great about a lot of other stuff (see "four Christmas trees," below...).] 

Being thankful and feeling gratitude doesn't erase the pain, but it makes it worth it. Sometimes great joy brings great pain, but it's worth it. Teddy was worth every tear and every dollar. I think that's what gratitude does...it changes your perspective. 

​In every thing give thanks...Thessalonians 5:18. Amen.

I decided to go ahead with my Holiday Open House this year. I started planning it prior to losing Teddy, knowing that it may not happen depending on his health. After losing him, now two weeks ago, I thought it would be good to follow through with it. It would keep me moving forward. So, you might consider it a kind of therapy for me. 

If you've never been before and are thinking about coming, just know that I would be delighted to have you stop by. I offer my jewelry for sale, but it's really about the opportunity to get to know you or to visit with you a little, especially in an atmosphere that isn't rain-soaked or bug infested or miserably hot or humid, like it so often is at the arts festivals. So I hope you'll consider stopping in on Dec. 5th. I even have a few pieces that are not pet-related, so if you're bringing a friend that's not really into animals, why are you friends? No, no....even they will have something that might interest them.

Here are a few photos from last year and some for this year:

So, if you're on the fence, maybe becoming a little familiar with it will win you over. If you're looking at this and are not on my emailing list or didn't get a little printed invitation, you can still come...I'd love it if you did! Just send me a message in the "contact me" area of my website, and I'll send you all the info. So, I hope to see you there!

I knew it was coming. I even knew it was really, really close. Yet, I still wasn't ready for it. And now that it has happened, I still feel wholly unprepared. Almost ten years to the day that I brought Teddy home after meeting a stranger in the parking lot of Cooper Stadium in response to a "Free Dog to Good Home" advertisement in the paper, he is gone. He was a twelve-week old orphan, and we were his fifth home at that young age after his first owner died unexpectedly. Last Saturday was one of the worst days of my life. We miss him as deeply as we loved him, and we love him still.

There are three thoughts that keep me from drowning in despair:

--We did everything we could for him that would benefit him, and we stayed with him to the very end;

--Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal; and,

--Every dog I lose in this life, I gain in heaven.

I'll see you there my sweet boy. 

Many thanks to all of you who stopped by my booth at Wagfest. It was good day and a nice festival (until, upon leaving, it was discovered that my husband's vehicle was damaged in the vendor parking lot by what we guess was someone not very skilled at pulling a trailer.) I was very touched by the concern and words of support offered to Teddy. Thank you so much. Teddy is off to Ohio State tomorrow to get ready for surgery on Wednesday. His CT scan that I mentioned in my last post showed some growths in his abdomen that are probably pressing on his liver and stomach, which would explain his lack of appetite. It would not explain the recovery of his appetite, but Teddy has historically been deeply committed to eating. Your prayers are appreciated and needed--keep them coming! Thanks so much.

Tomorrow there is a CT scan at Ohio State...but, today, we celebrate!!!

One day last week, my mom handed me an article she had clipped from the Columbus Dispatch with a recipe for a concoction that removes skunk odor from dogs should there be an unfortunate meeting between dog and skunk. I took it, thinking, "That's a good thing to have, but I probably won't need it because my dogs have never encountered a skunk." After last night, my response would now be, "That's great! I'm going to commit it to memory, and I will always have these ingredients on hand." 

Does that mean someone got a skunk bath last night? Yes, indeed. Little Maggie woke me at about 4:30 in the morning, crying to go out, so out she went. Teddy came along, too. Maggie led the way, and as I observed from the corner of our enclosed back porch, I was surrounded by intense skunk stink. I thought someone had struck a skunk along Clark State Road, which is not unusual. Then I noticed Maggie shaking her head vigorously as she headed toward the back of the yard. I thought that was weird, but then I was distracted by watching Teddy, who didn't act as if a strange animal had visited the yard. He just quietly went about business and returned. As Teddy came in and I went back in the house to wait for Maggie, it occurred to me that the head shaking and the skunk smell could be related. (Yes, it took me a while, but it was 4:30 in the morning...)

Oh, yeah...I picked Maggie up in a towel because the grass was wet from rain, and then it was beyond abundantly clear that she was wearing a dose of skunk squirt. Oh, where did I put that article?

Well, I couldn't find the clipping right away, so I found the article online. Thank goodness. The recipe works, pretty much instantly. So here it is:  1 quart of 3% hydrogen peroxide, 1/4 cup of baking soda, and 1 or 2 teaspoons of liquid soap.
Don't worry if you don't have a full bottle of hydrogen peroxide...just use what you have and hope that your big dog was spared the spray. 

If you have been that close to a dog covered in skunk spray, you will probably smell skunk for the next several days because that smell is so deeply embedded in your nostrils you can't get away from it, and that smell has wafted through the house as you carried the dog to the sink or bath, but your dog will smell fresh and clean. After I coated Maggie with the magic potion, I shampooed her. The only lasting effects of the incident for Maggie are a fear of her doggie ramp off the deck where the incident happened and the nickname "Little Skunkface." 

Every time Art and I are in the car and we pass an area where skunk smell lingers after a driver has hit an unsuspecting skunk, Art tells me that if our dogs ever get sprayed, he won't be able to wash them because the smell makes him physically ill. Ah, my delicate little flower....So, I knew I would be the one scrubbing Maggie down with the magic potion. But I didn't want Art to miss out on our first skunking experience, so I woke him. He was a rock star of support, gathering ingredients and searching the backyard for the offender (twice!). 

I've always dreaded my dogs encountering a skunk, but now that I have the recipe for the magic potion, I know it will be okay. I am now going to the store to restock on hydrogen peroxide, and I vow to never be without the three ingredients. Here's Maggie ready for her touch up bath--there's some lingering stink around her snout, which is kind of difficult to apply the magic potion to, as I don't want to get in her eyes, nose or mouth. Teddy, as usual, is ready to assist: