The Dogs on Love Row

Sassy's beautiful 

     Adoption Day 

             has arrived!  

As I open crates and leave the doxies outside to potty, the snowy scene before me is breathtakingly beautiful.  My snow-covered backyard glows pink as the rising sun paints the sky in stripes of white cloud and rose orange. The earth is telling me all is well.

I stand facing the sun, welcoming this newborn day and tell Sophie how lucky she is to be going to her forever home.  (calling Sassy “Sophie” now as that is the name her new family gave her) As the girls scamper in the morning chill, I savor all those evenings snuggled on the sofa with two dachshunds. 

Wren (red) and Sophie (chocolate) foster doxie sisters snuggled together

Last night was rowdy.  Turned out to be a Sophie going away party, complete with pizza, half the family, 5 dogs, and a loud toddler.  

toddler 'Puppy'

Well, six dogs if you count the toddler who often acts like a puppy.  

Teo (daughter's rat terrier) and Turnip

Teo was the tiniest dog guest. Wren decided she loves Teo, and Turnip.  The two boys fawn over her and she flirts back.  She holds their muzzles between her front paws and kisses them.  It’s so funny.  Turnip accepts all kisses until she tries to clean out his eye buggers; then he harrumphs away from her like he’s saying: ‘we don’t know each other well enough for that! ’  The commotion didn’t give me much time to get soppy and sentimental over my last night with Sophie.  Mostly, I watched the dachshunds with awe – hard to believe these two doxies are the same two shivering, skittering, nervous pair that I brought home 2 months ago!   

first time in their new foster home; first time I held them both in my arms

 

The doxies with the whole gang - Burren (border
collie mix), Turnip (Jack Russell mix), sister Wren
and Sophie.  This is their goodbye treats with Sophie

Sophie earned her first name ‘Sassy’ because she and Burren are the boss dogs. The other dogs won’t mind having the number bossy females reduced to one.  They probably won’t miss Sophie as much as she’ll miss them.  Although, insistent might be a better word for Sophie than bossy.  She craves all the attention so she’ll be the star in Gordon’s loving home.  She might not miss any of us with all the attention she'll receive in her new family!

Back to this morning, both dogs are completely innocent to coming changes as they do their potty business and rush inside.  I haven’t changed a thing in their routines. Sophie’s packed bag is out of sight.  So, all the dogs cavort and play in our kitchen, shaking off the night’s sleep, waiting for breakfast.  After feeding them, I spray Sophie with lavender mint grooming spray and clip her nails. I tell her to be a good girl and know that she is loved by many people, but mostly by me and her eagerly awaiting adoptive parents. She licks my face.  I check out her bag to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything:  toys, bed mats, food, Christmas Santa stocking, health records, etc. I neurotically recheck the bag.

last time the doxie girls played together

And then, it’s time to go. My dogs get crated and Sophie trots out to the car on leash. She shakes on the drive – she’s still not quite used to car rides- but settles in for a snuggle after 10min.  We arrive at the Gordon residence.  Marianne and Harrison greet Sophie with happy smiles and joyful pets. And camera snaps! Soon, Sophie is running around inside their gated kitchen as we humans sit on the floor and talk business.  Sophie checks out her new pheasant stuffed toy and her new crate. She does not whine at all, though she does hover near me at times.  I have no worries about leaving Sophie with the Gordon’s. Marianne and Harrison are the best people I could have wanted for Sophie, sweet, gentle dog loving souls.  And I was a friend of Marianne before.  Love when friends adopt a foster dog!

Marianne surprised me with a gift I will cherish:  wool dachshund slippers!  I had so admired hers when I brought Sophie to visit her house. She got me a pair of my own- how sweet! They are my Sophie/Wren slippers.  Beautiful, warm cuddles for my feet.  When I miss the warmth of two doxies on my lap, I will put on my slippers and cherish the memories.  

              After I bombarded the Gordon’s with 45 min of telling everything I know about Sophie, I gather my things, pat Sophie and say goodbye.  No tears on the way home. I’m eager to see how Wren is faring.  As soon as we get home, we let the dogs out of their crates.  Wren wriggles and prances, sniffs my coat over the strange smells and then promptly goes out the doggie door. She stands out there all alone for a few minutes, looking east, then north, then south. At first I’m sure she’s looking for Sophie, but when it continues, I like to think she is honoring her sister, somehow.  Then she turns back to the house with a hop and a wiggle, sashays through the doggie door.  Well, that is that.   

Since snow began falling on the drive home, and seeing the sky bunching up preparing to spew out more snow, Jay and I take the dogs out to the pasture for a romp.  Knowing Wren will be distraught left alone, I take her with us.  She trots around with the big dogs checking things out.  Soon, the cold, dry snow freezes her pads and she limps. I take her inside leaving the farmer out with the snow loving hounds.

As soon as I get inside and see Sophie’s empty crate, the tears flow. I have to rearrange everything, so I collapse Sophie’s crate, and put Turnip’s crate in the line of other crates. This tells the dogs a change has occurred, and it helps me move forward.  After the vacuuming and reorganizing, I look at the newly aligned row of crates, watch Turnip leap into his and tears flow again.  Turnip is our newest dog, fostered by my good friend, Patty Lane through the awesome organization Mid Atlantic Jack Rescue, Inc.  His crate was on the other side of the room; I was waiting until Sophie left to fit him into the row.  I call this special line 'the dogs on Love Row.'  Wren’s tiny crate is next to Burren’s large crate which is now nestled beside Turnip’s medium crate.  All three dogs were rescued.  May all lost ones find shelter, food, protection and love FAR away from death row.   

Cheers! to your new life Sophie 

And now, Wren is sleeping beside me as I write. I wondered if she would assume her normal position as I write, up the side of the chair arm, even without Sophie here to take her position beside my leg. Wren did put herself into this position at first, and then slowly slid down beside my leg. I smile watching this seamless move into her sister’s sleeping position. She has come up a notch in the dog pack world, so don’t be sad for Wren. 

Sophie’s story will now become the Gordon's to tell.  I will (okay, I already did)  steal a few Facebook updates from them, but it is sayonara to sweet foster: Brown Girl, Sassy Brown, Sassafras, Long Brown Train and all the other crazy names I called her.  Love you, your new peeps, and your new name, Sophie Sassafras! 

Thank you Marianne and Harrison for adopting sweet Sophie!!  

You are a sweet man, Harrison!  

Joyfully,

Sharon

“If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous he will not bite you. This is the principal difference between a dog and man.”      ― Mark Twain

“Happiness is a warm puppy.”   ― Charles M. Schulz

Good people are good to their animals; the "good-hearted" bad people kick and abuse them.     ~Proverbs 12:10 (The Message)

Before Our Life Changes

 

Today is the day before our life changes. 

The pause between what will happen and what we've been through. In the past, such days of pause gave me anxiety and restlessness. They still do, in moments.  Mostly, I remember the other pregnant pauses, the waiting, the unfolding, the ripening, the birth, labor and the joy. 

So, today I elbow past the anxiety and restlessness and dwell in wonder. In gratefulness.   

Deep in my belly the universe sings to me. Melodies of summer grasses ripple in my heart. Notes of warbler and hawk blend with aromas of orange peel, balsam fir and cinnamon that simmer on my stove and in my bones.  Muscled arms hold me as tears of aliveness fall down cheeks of apple and otter. Whimpering dogs and laughing children rush through my veins.  

My tendons stretch toward the night sky, where sister moon is blanketed in fog and circled in rainbows. 

Pigeons line up on a barn roof, rows of stunningly beautiful pigeons.  Their hearts beat in my chest, my love pulses with each shimmer of sun on rain splashes and rippling creeks.  Leaves brown and gold and dirty float on macadam puddles as I walk the dogs. My soul sees a pattern of gold sprinkled on brown and my heart weeps with beauty.  

 The owl in the tree clutches sinews of bark, its talons tickling my elbows and knees; my heart is open, thrown wide and scattered like joyfully flung confetti into the night sky.  

Starlings catch the star dust, their feathers shine with midnight iridescence. 

                  How can I be more in love?    

My soul is so full I sit up in the middle of the night crying joyfully in my sleep: Cobie! - that dear, huge golden-haired angel dog  I recently fostered.  My sweet husband tells me I called her name and then my eyes leak.  Not tears of sadness, but of Mystery.  Cobie still lives with me as does my beloved Hutch, protector of the farm and Carey, my sweet darling cattle dog shadow, and all the amazing animals I've ever loved.

My sweet mother also shows up with the appearance of doilies strung over rafters in a wedding reception, or the memorial pamphlet my granddaughter pulls out of a drawer and scribbles on.  Rae tells me what she wrote:  I love Grandma.  The grandma Rae has never really seen.  Of course she knows grandma; Rae is made from love and grandma’s DNA.

Dad comes to me in salmon grilled to perfection on my plate, in the smell of coffee and toolboxes.  My past morphs into my present becoming my future and love seals all the crackly questions. 

With overflowing heart, with experience and life wisdom, in this pregnant pause,  I celebrate with my brother before we sign our book contract.  I anticipate with my hubby the joy and confusion of adding a new dog into our home, Turnip, a sweet Jack Russell Basset hound mix.  

And, before I know how our foster dachshunds' stories will end, I embrace it all and soften into trust.  

My body, my soul, my heart, my mind holds all gently, loosely; I breathe deeply. I breathe in love and breathe out fear.   I breathe in grace and breathe out love.  I breathe in the universe and breathe out love. 

I breathe. 

                        

                  I simply breathe. 

                     

                                             Love and I are one.

Joyfully,

Sharon

Love never fails. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a woman, I put the ways of childhood behind me. (well, not all my childhood- not the part that wonders and asks questions!) For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.  

                                     ~ St Paul,    1^st Corinthians 13