Gabriel Felix

Gabriel Felix Howe

February, 1997-July 7, 2014 

 

 

I don’t have words for the emptiness.  Gabriel Felix has ceased from his suffering.  Yesterday was a hard day for me.  Gable wasn’t walking except for a few feet then he would slowly collapse onto his side. He stopped eating Sunday and would only drink water.  Yesterday he would stand over the bowl and lap a few times then look at it as he slowly slid down to his belly. 

I carried him with me when I went any place because otherwise he still tried to follow the pattern of years and follow me.  Wherever I went he was always with me.  If I went to the kitchen, he was there. If I sat in the den he was beside me or on my lap.  If I sat on the deck, he was right there lying in the sun.  For meals, he was beside me.  If I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night he got out of bed and went with me.   These past days, he was too weak to follow me all the way but he’d go as far as he could and collapse until he’d regained his strength.  So I carried him.

For the last three days he couldn’t walk out in the yard to potty.  I would carry him out and put him down on the ground.   He would stagger a few feet and lay down or potty then stagger a bit farther.  The last night he was with me, he wanted out at 4:00 in the morning.  I carried him out and sat on the deck with him until he’d walked around a bit and fell in the grass.  He liked laying in the grass.   Finally he was all the way to the fence and could go no farther.  Using my phone light I trekked across the yard in my bare feet and nightgown in the dark to pick him up and carry him in.

And that was OK because I loved him.

The vet, when he saw him, knew immediately from the odor that Gable had kidney failure. He said it was time to end the suffering.  And I knew that.  It is just that I’ll miss him so much.

Last night I woke up in a little panic twice thinking I had slept past the time when I needed to take him out. The first time I was about to get up before I realized he was gone. The next time it was storming and before I was entirely awake I thought he would get wet and cold.   Then I looked across at the empty bed and remembered he was gone.

It was strange this morning, letting only three dogs out.  And when they came back in it took a minute to remember that I didn’t need to look for Gabriel because he wasn’t there

For almost seventeen years, if he had a choice, he was with me—on my lap, standing in my shadow, lying down beside my chair at dinner, following me when I walked laps around the yard.  He went to New Mexico with me until he was too old to make the trip comfortably. 

When he was a puppy he went to day care with me.  He was so cute and even his toys were tiny.  The staff would bring him little balls and stuffed animals even though he already had several; the floor of my office was littered with puppy toys.   Kids and staff vied for the chance to take him out to potty.  Or just take him for a walk.  Peggy Miller took him out with her for a smoke break, the children would come and ask if he could go to the playground with them.   Sometimes I had to say that he’d just been out and had to rest. 

All sorts of events went through Gable’s life, but he was content as long as he was with me.

And now my life goes on without him. 

Gabriel, I’ll miss you.

Gabriel and Maggie

Gabriel loves it that he can lie on my lap again.  For so many years, he had to lie between me and the arm of the chair or even on the bed.  My knees were too sensitive to have his small weight on them.  Now that I’ve had knee replacement on both of them, they no longer hurt and he has discovered that he can be on my lap again.  For a while he was hesitant to hop up, but after three months of invitations he has decided that it really is OK for him to be up here again.

I got up earlier than usual this morning because I have a sore throat coming on and I thought a cup of hot tea would help.  Of course, Gabe and Maggie got up with me. While I made my tea, they went out to explore the yard and do other things.  By the time the tea was ready Maggie was standing at the door. Gabe hustled in from the darkness as soon as I opened the door.

I brought my tea to my room and situated myself in the recliner.  I wanted to read a bit in my new book.  Before I took my first sip of tea both little dogs were curled in my lap.  Both firmly believe it is their place to be there.  And they are absolutely right.  I love having them there.

I’ve become a big fan of Cesar Milan.  He says that you have to address the dog before you look at the pet or the individual.  I know almost nothing about the man except that he does know dogs.  It is eerie sometimes how he can manage them.  We have had dogs for my entire life.  My father brought home my first dog before I was ever born and his family had had dogs for his entire life.  Our dogs have always been well behaved and good dogs, but I’ve learned almost more than I can say from Cesar.

One thing he has pin pointed for me is how, no matter how tiny the dog, they still have a dog’s attitude.  Maggie might weigh five pounds, but she thinks she is just as big as Maxim.  Gabriel probably weighs twenty but he thinks he’s a German Shepherd.  Maxim, on the other hand, thinks he can be a lap dog, too.  He doesn’t try to jump on my lap like Maggie or Gabriel, but he would if he hadn’t learned that he has to stay on the floor.  He will come and put his head on my lap and lean as hard as he can, looking up with beseeching eyes.  Or put one big foot on my knee and press just hard enough to say, “It wouldn’t be hard at all for me to walk up onto your lap.  Please, could I?” 

Right now, Gabriel is curled up between my knees with his head resting on my thigh.  Maggie would like to be in that spot, but Gabe beat her to it.  She is laying up against me stomach on my thigh with her head and shoulders snuggled against Gable.  I have my laptop on my other thigh, propped on a pillow and Maggie’s shoulders.  We are all very cozy.  The dogs are sound asleep.

Gabe has been my best for almost 12 years.  He and Aspen were my companions when I lived alone in Winfield.  They ate with me, slept with me, sat with me, prayed with me and laid by my side when I took a bath, brushed my teeth or sat on the john, when I was on the computer, watched TV or read.  It is as natural for me to share whatever I’m doing with my dogs as it is to breathe.  They may not understand every word I say but they try hard to figure it out.  Maxim, like Aspen before him, is very good at figuring it out.

Gabe is getting old. He has hurt himself several times trying to play with Maxim (or maybe boss maxim around).  Maxim has never intentionally tried to hurt him or bite him but Gabe has launched at himself at Maxim and gotten tripped over more than once.  He has damaged his back so badly that at one time I thought I might have to have him put to sleep.  But he recovered, even if he has a distinctive crook in his back you can feel if you stroke along his spine.  He is getting arthritis and his eyes are clouded. But he’s still my dog.

 
It doesn’t matter what is going on in the rest of the house, Gabriel always ends up beside me.  He might go and visit R & M for awhile but soon he’s back on the bed or on my lap.  If I sit at the table or the counter, he’s right there on the floor beside me.  If I go to the bathroom, he sits in the door way and waits for me.  Where ever I am he’s there.
 
I’ve only had Maggie since October, but she is learning that she’s my dog too. She likes to sit on Rachael’s lap—especially when Rachael is sitting at the counter eating her breakfast—and she likes to visit with R & M in the evenings if they watch TV in the den, but every once in a while she has to come back and see if I’m doing all right.  Gable is her favorite uncle and role model.  She has begun to notice that he stays with me.  She is oftener and oftener coming and staying with me when the door is open and she could go elsewhere.

I don’t know what people do without dogs.  I don’t know what makes them chuckle when they are sad or what makes them laugh out loud with their antics.  I don’t know who they pray with when they are alone.

puppies living and puppies dying

On Thursday night Chloe had six puppies.  They were four days early, but she is little and I think they had to be born because there was no more room inside for them.  They were all born active and squeaking!  :o)  Three gray ones and three in various shades of tan.   I was immediately concerned about the smallest gray one.  I’ve had a lot of little puppies in my years and when they are born with pointy noses and bulgy heads, they are premature and don’t live long.  Kerra was hoping it was because they were ¾ Chihuahua, so I let it go, but the next evening that puppy died.  Then a larger gray one died too.  When I saw it, the puppy had the same head shape as the tiny one.  Their feet were also smaller and the toes were undeveloped.  We all were sad, but it is simply the way of life. 

I only have concern for the last gray one. It seems a little immature yet to be out of mama’s tummy, but when I saw him this morning the face and head had developed a little more and the ears were coming forward  so I think maybe it will make it. 

I get a little girl and I’m praying that the breeders won’t choose my favorite since they get the pick of the litter.  They are all sweeties, but I especially like this little dark brown baby.

Chloe was very determined and efficient when they were born.  She wanted them in Notah and Kerra’s bed and refused to have them in her box.   When Notah came home I told him that I was a little worried because I hadn’t heard a peep out of her all day.  He went in and opened the kennel.  She immediately wanted on their bed, when he put her there she had the first puppy within just a few minutes.  The next five came like pop, pop, pop!   I don’t remember a litter of puppies ever coming quite that fast.  She had them all in about an hour.  I think she had refused to have them until she got under the covers in Notah and Kerra’s bed!    You can tell they are my kids—they just put a towel under her and let her stay.

Kerra had to change the whole bed and scrub the mattress before they could go to bed!  Fortunately the stains came out and they only had a wet spot on the mattress.  Once the puppies were all there she was content to get in the box with them and go in her kennel.

We have two girls and two boys left.  And she polishes them every ten minutes.  No big dogs are allowed near them.  They come and twitch their noses from six inches away when Chloe goes out to potty.  Thain and Bella sniffed and were satisfied.  Sadie would really like to have a baby of her own to love, but Chloe is NOT sharing.  Probably when they are older she will let Sadie love them.  Sadie was her surrogate mama when she came to live with us.

                                                                 Three days old.

I love having puppies!

that's entertainment

What do people do who don’t have a pet to bring them chuckles and laughter?  As god’s people most of us don’t spend inordinate amounts of time watching foolishness on television.  We don’t waste our time being distracted by ungodly music and other programs on the radio.  Hopefully we aren’t bringing that same music into our homes on CD’s.   And yet the Lord sends us simple and wonderful things to ‘entertain’ us.

This morning when I finished, or actually as I was finishing, the dogs came to see if there were any scraps they might be interested in.  Bella is so big that her chin can rest comfortably on the table; her shoulders are even with the top. Thain is so big that his chin can rest easily in my lap and with a little bit of a stretch he can see what’s on the table.  Poor Sadie has to settle for stretching her neck to see if I’ve dropped a crumb or two in my lap.  They are all very good though and wait patiently until after we have eaten.  They aren’t allowed to beg.  And things can sit on the table or the counter all day without being stolen.

This morning, though, they were so funny.  Bella came first.  She made it in time to get the discarded white parts of my egg.  When my kids were little I always made them eat all of their egg.  (Sun up!  It’s 6:40 AM!  )  And even though I don’t care for the white of a boiled egg, I generally eat it.  But this morning Bella was starving.  So I gave her a couple bites of my egg.  Then Sadie came but by that time everything was gone except my cherries.  Bella thought those might be good, but after a couple sniffs she decided, no, that wasn’t dog food.  Sadie didn’t care though.  She gobbled hers.  Thain came along and saw Sadie was chewing something and HE wanted some too.   Now HE didn’t really think dogs should be eating cherries ( sweet, ripe Bing Cherries) but Sadie was eating hers and if he spit his out, she would eat it.  So, strange taste and all, Thain ate his little piece of cherry.  The expressions were priceless.
 
Yes, dogs do have expressions.  Bella was calm and serene through the whole process.  Sadie was ‘oh yes, I’ll try it.’  Thain was “are you sure this is good to eat?”  I loved it!

And then there are the late night calls from Rachael. . . 

My kids grew up with us doctoring all sorts of ailments in kitties, puppies, baby bunnies and what have you, so their first recourse when there is an animal problem is to call Mom.  It doesn’t matter that Mom is 2000 miles away, call Mom. :o)

Sunday night about nine thirty here, ten thirty in Ohio, Rachael called and said, “MOM!  What do you use to get skunk smell off dogs?!!”  LOL  Gabriel and Sebastian had tangled with a little skunk in the back yard.  And of course, Maxim had to go help them.  Fox terriers have NO concept of size or danger; they tear in with flags flying.  Well, their flags flew and so did the skunk’s.

They don't look like skunk killers, do they.

I knew that the one ingredient for removing skunk smell was hydrogen peroxide in dish soap (preferable Dawn) but I wasn’t sure of the other one.  Notah and Pat had gone on a late snake hunt, but I knew Pat had been talking just a few days ago about getting the smell of his dogs so I tried to call them.  Phone service in NM is dicey, especially if you are back up a deep canyon looking for black-tailed rattlers or cruising between mountains.  After a few tries to both of them I finally connected with Notah.  He got the other ingredient from Pat—in between gales of laughter!  Why is it when something happens to someone else it is worth a few chuckles, but when it happens to your sister it is hysterically funny?  Never did figure that out in 60 years.

Anyway,  hydrogen peroxide, baking soda and Dawn dish soap—in generous proportions of peroxide and baking soda will remove the skunk smell from dogs, give ‘em a bath in it!  

At about 1:00 AM Ohio time, I got a text: “dogs bathed, going to bed.” 

I asked Rachael yesterday if they both smelled like skunk when they went to work.  She said no but they did make the dogs sleep in my room instead of with them.   Oh yeah, when I get home in October my room will probably still have a lingering odor of eau de skunk! 

Throw out your TV and get a Toy Fox Terrier or a Labrador Retriever, or a German Shepherd, or a boxer/pit bull mix.  Or even a beautiful, graceful, serene Great Dane.  You will never lack for entertainment.  Or love.

Excitement, excitement, excitement!  Living with Notah’s family is sooo different from living with Rachael and Michael.  There is so much going on! Whew.  In Ohio we have a humdrum existence.   Not boring, mind you, but very routine and quiet.  Notah has two kids and a busy wife.  Seth alone is enough to keep life from becoming dull. Add in Keva and Kerra coming and going, then add two big dogs, one medium sized dog and a Chloe-biscochito in the house AND two more dogs outside…. Well life is very interesting.
.

Did I write about Sweetie?  I can’t remember.  Notah and Kerra picked her up on a desert road; she was laying in the middle of a dirt road.  When they slowed down she got up and moved to the side.  Of course they stopped and discovered she had been badly bitten all around her neck and shoulders.  There was a huge swelling over the back of her neck from a bite there.  Of course, they picked her up and brought her home.

Sweetie when they found her

Now there is a problem.  She had been used for dog fighting and although she is ‘sweet’ (hence the name ‘Sweetie’) she has problems with dogs that look like pit bulls.  Sweetie herself appears to be a Dalmatian pit bull cross.  That was where the excitement came from last night.

Keva went out to play with the dogs.  As long as she was playing with Sweetie and her buddy Jack, things were okay.  When Keva came into the other yard and paid attention to Bella and Sadie, Sweetie was jealous.  A little later, Notah went out and thought he would let Bella and Sweetie play for a while, but Sweetie was still in jealous-mode and jumped Bella.  Now Bella is a Great Dane and NOT a good candidate to jump into a fight with.

Thank the Lord Pat was here.  I don’t believe Notah alone could have separated them.  As it turned out Bella gave as good as she got, but there were no major hurts!  I think mostly it was a ‘minor’ scuffle, but while it was happening, Kerra was running around all over trying to find a heavy broom to use to separate them.  Seth was screaming to ‘stab’ Sweetie. Keva was crying and I was hustling around without a cane or walker!  Finally Notah and Pat succeeded in getting Sweetie to turn loose of Bella’s throat.  Bella had no injuries that I could see, maybe one or two tooth marks.  Sweetie had a couple bites on her head where Bella had nailed her. 

Bella came in and lay on my bed for a while.  Keva’s room, which is now my room, is her secure place.  She was there for about a half hour or forty-five minutes til she calmed down and felt safe again. 

I wish we could find a pit bull rehab center for Sweetie.  She is exactly what her name says in relation to people, but I don’t think they will be able to trust her around other dogs without constant vigilance.

Mika

                      

Yesterday was a difficult day here. We had to put Mika to sleep late Thursday night. That was a dark day for all of us. Mika was very well loved by not just her family but by friends all around.

On Thursday evening, we fed the dogs, and had supper. Mika laid beside me for all of the meal and then stretched out for a little nap. After supper I came in to put my legs up and R & M stretched out to watch a movie. Around 11:00 Michael put the dogs out for their late night potty and we all went to bed. About fifteen minutes later Rachael came knocking on my door saying, “Mama, there’s something wrong with my old dog!

Mika was pacing the floor and panting in obvious distress. Because of her arthritic hips she was having difficulty staying on her feet but was unable to breathe if she lay down. Her throat and chest were swollen and there was a large hard lump on her right side, just back of her ribcage. Nothing in my 50 years of experience dealing with sick and injured dogs gave me any idea of how to treat her. My only advice was to find an emergency vet clinic.

I began combing the internet to find an all night veterinarian in Westerville. With all the floods of data available online, it still requires that you enter the proper terms to get to the information needed. As it happened I had to remove the specific ‘Westerville’ from my search parameters and use ‘Columbus’ instead. That gave me a chart of five or six all night clinics. One was only a few minutes from us. Michael called them to make sure they were open and Rachael was dressed. They took Mika to the doctor about 12:30.

I didn’t know exactly what was wrong, but my ‘gut-feeling’ was that the large hard lump was not going to be treatable with out very expensive surgery. And about an hour later Michael called to say that Mika had a twisted stomach and barring a $2500 surgery could not be helped. The flipped stomach twisted her esophagus and that in turn was restricting her windpipe and breathing. There was no way to remedy that except surgery and although the prognosis for that was good, it wasn’t sure. Mika was 15 years old and the vet said that given her apparent breed mixtures, her life expectancy was limited. That was difficult but still what I expected.

The vet let Rachael sit with Mika for a few minutes and then euthanized her. They will have her ashes ready for us in a few days.

Mika went to college with Rachael almost 15 years ago. She was only a tiny ball of fluff. I don’t think Rachael expected her to get as big as she did, but Mika grew into a formidable protector. He pitch black coloring was intimidating. She liked women but was suspicious of strange men to the day she died. After she met any of Rachael’s guy friends she accepted them and was even friendly, but no stranger dared to approach Rachael with Mika’s threatening stare guarding her.

Her death was as traumatic as the passing of any human. Michael sent texts to all of their friends who knew and loved her. All of them responded with love and sympathy for Rachael. And for Michael. He had loved her too.

Mika, we miss you.



morning coffee

I shared my coffee with Gabriel this morning. He hasn’t gotten much coffee in the last couple years. In fact ever since Dianne got me the “Fuzzy Duck” mug he has missed out on his favorite beverage.

He used to steal my coffee all the time if I set it down on the end table and walked away from it. He’s been know to chug a half cup at one time. I’d go to the bathroom or to answer the phone and come back to an empty cup! Then Dianne found the “Duck” mug. It is a mug with a wide base and a narrow top. Gabriel’s nose won’t fit in the top. And besides that there's a lid! Hee hee.

The “Fuzzy Duck” is a coffee shop in Morehead,Kentucky.   (http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/183/1006958/restaurant/Kentucky/Fuzzy-Duck-Coffee-Shop-Morehead ) Dianne and Kris found it when they were visiting Tomy who was in school there. I’ve posted pictures of the mugs here before.

So this morning I had about half of my second cup of coffee left in a regular cup when I finished my breakfast at the counter. I gave Gable some and then, of course, had to share with Sebastian, too. Sebastian wasn’t very sure about it but Gabe was slurping it so it must be good, right? They shared back and forth until Gable licked out the last few drops.

He drank coffee for a long time before I found out it isn’t supposed to be good for dogs. Hmm. Guess Gabe didn’t read the same article I did. He has certainly enjoyed a lot of coffee in his past ten years.

I’ve not found much time to post blogs or even play on Facebook since I got home from rehab. I thought I’d be able to be online all the time when I finally got home but instead with the additional exercise I’ve found myself exhausted. I can make it till about noon and then I’m fading out fast.

My knee is doing great, but the complications have come with my ‘other’ knee and also with the swelling. I don’t know if you’d call them complications, but at any rate the whole combination has slowed me down.

I was able to practice a bit with the cane on Thursday with the therapist. And happily it went pretty well. Made me tired. Of course! But it again was my ‘old’ knee that hasn’t been repaired yet which gave me the biggest problem. It gets tired and then I have to stop. I don’t suppose I’ll be able to walk very far until I have it replaced too.

The other exciting thing is that Notah will be here in about three weeks plus a few days to take me to NM! I can hardly wait!! I’m anxious to see the kids and the dogs, as well as Notah and Kerra. 

I guess this has been short but it has been better than nothing which is about all I’ve managed these last few weeks.

spring cleaning

Rachael is doing her spring cleaning. Now she learned to spring clean from ME so I really shouldn’t complain, but she is like an inexorable force plowing through the house. The dogs are all confused because she is home all day and they are used to having their days to themselves and me. They have their morning run and beg for bits of my breakfast then as soon as R & M leave it’s in on the bed for their morning nap. Nothing disturbs them until I go out for lunch; then, if there’s no rain, they go out for their noon tear-around-the-backyard. Annnnd then back in to snooze the afternoon away. This week everything is topsy-turvy.

First off, late Sunday evening R & M moved all the living room furniture to the garage. Lots of people content themselves with simply moving the furniture around. Not my Rachael! The furniture goes! I haven’t been evicted yet, but the promise is that it will happen tomorrow . . .or maybe tonight. I’m not sure.

 

Maxim's romping room

We have a big living room and Maxim believes it has been emptied to provide him with romping space. The little dogs, too, like racing from one end to the other. Even Mika got in on the fun yesterday morning when she played a little with Maxim. She can’t play long because her arthritis gives her grief, but she was wruffing at him and jumping around a bit, chasing the ball with him.

The only one who doesn’t care for the room is Coal. Cats prefer cozy corners and soft sofas. He feels very exposed in that big empty space, I think.

One of the biggest projects has been the painting of the stair wall and the hallway leading into the kitchen and den. Those areas were still white, the base coat that was on them when we moved in. Late Sunday evening I heard this ratcheting sound against the wall behind me. I couldn’t imagine what it was: Michael was removing the railing from the wall of the stairs.

As difficult as it seems that wall went quickly. Our living room has a vaulted ceiling and the stair wall goes straight up from the floor to the top of the roof. Michael has one of those ladders that adjust to put on stairs so other than the stretch to run the roller it wasn’t that impossible. It is now a pretty shade of green that matches the living room.

Rachael was telling me about Maxim’s reaction to the whole process this morning. Labs do more thinking that any other breed of dog, I think. They wouldn’t let him run up and down the steps behind them; that’s what he would have preferred to do. He has to be in the center of anything that is going on to keep tabs on the whole deal. But with the stair painting was more than a bit dangerous to have a big brown dog under foot; other times Rachael is used to just stepping around and over him.

The perch at the top of the stairs

Michael made Maxim stay on the balcony at the top of the stairs. He lay there and watched them paint. The first time they moved the ladder down a couple steps he really thought he needed to come and investigate but Michael sent him back to the landing. He went but then lay down just as close to the edge as possible and still be ‘on the landing.’ His toenails, not his toes, mind you, not his feet, but his toenails hung over the very edge. He looked down the steps at R & M with his wrinkles and ears falling forward around his eyes and nose. He watched intently as they edged and rolled the paint; Rachael said you could see him trying to figure out just what in the world they were doing. Why would anybody spend an hour petting the wall? It was immensely boring, but he watched every second of the process.

Finally they got to the bottom and took everything down. And Maxim was permitted to come down off his perch at the top of the stairs. He is so funny.

All day yesterday Rachael painted, edging the walls and finishing the kitchen. I’m sure he was relieved when she put the refrigerator back in place, and washed her paint pan and brush before she quit to go take her shower. Whew! What a long day! He was ready to lay down in the den chair to rest!

And today will be another big day. I believe the beautiful expanse of play space in the living room is gonna get scrubbed at some point in time-whether before or after the windows get washed. I don’t know.

More tomorrow. 

more lessons from little dogs

But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; And base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen. . . I Corinthians 1:27 & 28

Yesterday the Lord taught me a lesson from Gabriel. Today my lesson was from Sebastian. When I woke up I sat up with my feet on the floor and considered life for a few minutes before standing up.  It sometimes takes some determination to stand on my knees.

As I was sitting there Sebastian and Gable got up. They both stretched the cramps out of their bones and scratched a couple itches then hopped down. Gable came and sat not too far from me ready for whatever the day might hold. Sebastian came and pushed himself under my hands and between my feet, begging for, demanding attention. Sebastian is devoted to me on his own terms and when it suits him. His is honestly a case of ‘cupboard love.’

By that I mean that his devotion to me is based on what he can get. Gable’s devotion is constant, regardless of circumstances. Sebastian kind of looks out for his own interests first. Gable would sleep with me if I were on an iceberg. Sebastian chooses to sleep in my room because it is warmer and he can pick his spot to snuggle. In R & M’s room he has to share with Maxim and Mika sometimes it is crowded and it is usually colder than my room. He likes to lie in my chair because it is warm and soft and he can be all cozy even when he’s stretched out. Gable would lay on me every moment if he could even if my chair had rocks where he had to be.

Sebastian is very devoted when I have food. He is Mr. Johnny-on-the spot. As soon as the goodies appear to be gone, he’s gone. Gable stays beside me even when the treat bag is empty. Sebastian will grab a treat from my hand even when it is meant for Mika or Gable. Gable grabs his treat, but only those meant for him. Sebastian is greedy. Gable is patient—well most times.

When I call Gable to me for petting or scratching, he comes and revels in it. He knows beyond any doubt that he’s My Dog and he has complete confidence in that fact. Sebastian, on the other hand, comes to me on his terms and demands attention. He knows I’ll pet him but his acceptance of that attention isn’t as loving and humble as Gable’s. He demands it more those of a spoiled child requiring praise and rewards. And if he doesn’t get it he reacts just as he does when the treats are gone; he leaves. I look up and Gable is still there waiting for whatever I decide but Sebastian, as soon as he’s gotten his quota of petting and scratching, is gone.

Here’s the lesson. Lots of Christians are like Sebastian. They only follow God for the good things they hope to get. And if the good things are not forth coming upon demand they walk away. Oh, they still give lip service and if you asked them they would certainly claim to be a Christian, but they aren’t really. Their devotion is all to their Self. If God is handing out the goodies and the blessings they are right there like Sebastian, Mr. Johnny-on-the-spot, demand their share. But other times you would never guess who they belonged to. Any strangers coming to our house very quickly know which of us is Gable’s Master by his actions and devotion. Do people know who Our Master is within a short time of meeting us?

Now Sebastian is a little dog. He wasn’t raised by me; he hasn’t spent his whole life with me. I love him and I think it’s cute the way he comes and wants to be patted when I’m sitting there in the early morning trying to remember what my name is. But Gable’s devotion has found its place in my heart. If I were forced to choose, it would be Gable. Happily, I don’t have to choose.

Much of the world only comes to God for what they want, when they want it. They pay little attention to Him for 29 days out of the month and then on the odd 30th day they suddenly come demanding a good meal, or worse yet a bag of candy. Not only do they not follow Him, but they go pattering off after other gods. And yet they want to call themselves Christians.
I think if Sebastian would talk, he’d probably claim to be my dog, maybe not. He does spend most of the day with me alone—probably 20 out of the 24 hours—but most assuredly his heart isn’t as faithful as Gable’s is. (lol little dogs and ‘hearts’! But you know what I mean.) He is only with me for what he can get out of the deal. Now, little dogs don’t really have logical intentions so don’t say that I think any less of Sebastian because he is responding to elemental impulses. He’s a little dog and I love him; but God used him to teach me something.

We can’t be like that little dog, only relating to God for our immediate selfish interests. Jesus condemned those people who followed Him around the sea after he had fed them with loaves and fishes. He said, Ye seek me, not because ye saw the miracles, but because ye did eat of the loaves, and were filled. He knew what impulse they were following. They didn’t especially want to know Jesus and his teaching, they only wanted some more bread and fish. That’s Sebastian.

Jesus gave them some hard teaching then and many of them left. He asked the disciples, Will ye also go away? Now HERE is Gabriel, Peter said: Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life. And we believe and are sure that thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God. (John 6:68) THAT is Gabriel. He isn’t going any place because I’m his One—so to speak.

We must take the lessons to heart. In serving the Lord we cannot be a Sebastian, coming to God only for the goodies. We must be like Gabe, devoted and faithful.

Hmmm. The things God uses to teach us. He really will use the ‘foolish things’ and the ‘weak things’ and the ‘base things’ of the world to teach us what He requires of us.

Home alone

I just spent several days at home alone with our dogs and cats.  Sigh..... I've decided I can no longer manage a herd of dogs!  the cats weren't bad at all.  I simply made sure their boxes were scooped and their food dishes were full and they sat with me on my chair or purred by the heater.  Even Peanut outside, came running as soon as the light came on.  By the time the door was opened he was there waiting for his food, being polite and meowing to tell me how glad he was that I was coming with something good for his tummy!

The dogs were a whole different story.   Well, I take that back.  Mica was an angel.  The other three--oh mercy.  LOL  Maxim is just so full of enthusiasm for every thing he makes me so tired.  He isn't bad, not at all but he has a great deal of energy that I can't help him to expend.  The little dogs of course are just as energetic as he is but their bouncing around isn't quite so lamp shaking. 

When I woke up in the morning and went into the bathroom they were AWAKE too.  Maxim and Gable usually started playing.  Now that's okay and my room is pretty well big enough for some play, but whe Sebastian got involved it turned into a free for all.  It did stop when I went out and said ,Stop, but with crutches it took a minute to get there.  By that time, the comforter on my bed was in a know and the dried rosebuds in my pretty bird bath were scattered around.

They are very good at waiting for me to go out of my door.  I followed Cesar Milan's advice and 'own' the door.    And they are good at hustling into the outside door too.  But every morning there is a challenge.  Grandma insists they all sit and wait until I tell them they can go out.  R & M just open the door.  I think I've said before how much I enjoy watching Gabe and Bastian go hustling our across the yard to the back fence.  They live for the possibility that the iron fence at the back may have fallen down over night and they can kill the golden retriever who lives across the way.   They bounce out through the grass barking and looking at one another, daring each other to be the bravest.  And little dogs don't have the sense to know that a golden retriever could kill them with one chomp. 

Dogs have to be let outside several times a day and my knees complain about the standing wait while they are out there.  On the other hand, they are tremendously loving and attentive.  Who else would I have talked with while Rachael and Michael were gone?  And who else would listen so attentively?

They quickly developed a routine.  Out in the early morning, and back in to nap on the bed.  Out at lunch and back in to look out the window and roll around on the floor and then stretch out to snooze a bit more.  Evenings were a little more varied because we had supper and people were coming home from work and school so there were sounds that had to be checked out, but by ten o'clock things had settled down and that meant the dogs could settle too. 

And I was tired from all the excitement.   They are sweethearts, regardless of the aching knees and Wild Rumpuses in the middle of the floor!

Eulogy

Notah’s old dog Huck finally had to be euthanized. I felt really sorry for Notah, having to make that decision. He had Huck for a lot of years, ever since his second year in college.

Actually Notah didn’t decide to adopt Huckleberry. Huck decided he was Notah’s dog. Or maybe it was that Notah was his man. One way or another they connected.

I acquired Huckleberry when I was director at the daycare. The United Way Director’s assistant was conducting a fundraising activity at the Coshocton McDonalds and there was this Dalmatian dog running around the parking lot trying to get in people’s cars. The employees said it had been there for several days and they were going to call the dog warden. The United Way lady couldn’t let that happen so she loaded it up and brought it back with her. 

Well, what were they going to do with a DOG in the United Way offices? So their solution was to bring it over to DAY CARE! Oh yeah. That works. A stray dog with no indication of shots or temperament in a DAY CARE!  But then, there’s Vondi who couldn’t let a lost dog go to the pound.  

The spotted dog had to stay in my office, but he seemed okay. The kids kept sticking their heads in to look at him. Different people came through and saw him. One mother even decided to take him home. She said her landlord had told her she could have a small dog. Well, who in the world EVER called a dalmatian small? In about an hour she brought him back saying her landlord had said he was too big. Who would have guessed?

By that time I was regretting having let her take him because Notah had been talking about wanting a dog of his own in Columbus. This was a pretty dog, quiet, friendly and perfect. I believe that was a Tuesday or Wednesday before Thanksgiving. By quitting time that afternoon, I had named the dog Huckleberry because his spots were so dark blue they were the color of ‘huckleberries.’ I guess I could have called him ‘blueberry’ but Huckleberry seemed to fit better. Maybe because of the kids’ cartoon “Huckleberry Hound.” But he wasn’t ‘Huckleberry Hound.” He was just Huckleberry. Huck went home with me to see if Notah would like him. I have no idea what I planned to do with him if Notah didn’t want him.

Fortunately, Notah had nothing to say about it. Within an hour of meeting Notah, Huckleberry decided that Notah was going to be his Master. If Notah got up from the couch to go after a cup of coffee or get a drink of water Huckleberry went with him. If Notah went up stairs to the bathroom, Huck went with him. If Notah napped on the couch, Huck was beside him. It was a done deal. Huck was Notah’s dog.

The only bad thing about Huck was that he wasn’t real fond of little kids. He would bite them if they didn’t heed his warning grumble. How it was that he didn’t bite a pre-schooler during that afternoon at day care was only due to the grace of God. He left marks on a couple little kids in the years after.

He had a bit of wander-lust, too, at first. Once he ducked out the door when someone was delivering pizza or soliciting or something like that. He was gone for quite a while. Notah searched and put up flyers. I think maybe he even put an ad in the newspaper. After a couple weeks he got a call from someone who thought they might have his dog. Sure enough, when Notah got there it was Huck. Everybody thinks dalmatians are like the cartoon dogs in 101 Dalmatians, but they aren't. The guy who had him also had a little girl. I’ve always thought the only reason the guy called Notah was because Huckleberry was grumbling at the little girl and she was scared of him. Thank the Lord he didn’t bite her.

After that, Huck stayed home.

When Notah and Kerra began dating the first thought in my head was danger to the kids. Keva was about 4 or 5 and Seth was under two. As it turned out, there was no big problem. When the Seth was little Notah watched Huck closely. Later he learned just like Keva did that if Huck growled it meant, “Leave me alone. I don’t want to play.”  

Huck never did get over being snappy, but he would have died before someone could have hurt his kids.

After Notah and Kerra were married, Huckleberry slept with the kids every night. He was the first dog Seth could remember. He had no complaints at all about adding Kerra and the kids to his list of Important People. One of Notah’s favorite games with the kids was to use a marker and make an extra spot on Huck then challenge Seth and Keva to find it. They seemed to enjoy it as much as Notah did.

Huck was a comfort lover. He liked warm soft sofas. He liked soft beds with warm bodies in them. He liked snuggling with someone on the sofa. And he grumped when his comfort was disturbed. He definitely liked his food dish when it was filled. He enjoyed hiking in the desert with his people. He never got bitten by a rattlesnake or smacked by a porcupine, but he did step on a few prickly pear thorns and goats’ heads were his curse. He was always stepping on them and either chewing them out himself or waiting while Notah pulled them out. His black and white coat always seemed to be clean, even when he was out in the dirt. He disliked snow and rain. Notah used to tease him about his spots fading and running.

Notah used to tell about camping once when there was some large animal outside the tent. He thought perhaps it was a bear since they were camping down on ‘Pop’s Farm’ in Guernsey County. That’s pretty wild country. Notah and his friend both heard what ever it was making noise and brushing against the tent. They opened the door of the tent to go see. They went out, but Huckleberry stayed inside. You see, it was raining and Huck couldn’t risk his spots blurring. They never did figure out what was outside. It took off when the flashlights came on.

For several years, Huckleberry had cysts in his lungs. The vet who diagnosed him said there wasn’t much that could be done to fix it and Notah decided to keep him as long as he wasn’t in too much distress.

For the last year or so, he was gradually getting worse. I thought it was complicated with some congestive heart failure. Finally, he wasn’t able to breathe or rest comfortably. Notah made the decision to euthanize him on. 

He was a good dog. He left an empty place in my heart when he left. The one in Notah’s must be bigger.

rotten little dog!

Gable is a little liar! The stinker. A little while ago, bout 10:30 I got up to put my empty carryout container in the bathroom trash can. That basket is big but it doesn’t fill up as fast as the one here by me and has more room for chef salad containers.

At any rate Gable decided it was time for his morning potty break. I told him quite definitely that it wasn’t time! He proceeded to hustle out: first, to wake up Sebastian, THEN to go get Maxim and Mica!

Now you can say what you want about whether or not he ‘understood’ what I said to him but I swear his little brain developed a strategy: "I’ll go tell Maxim and Mica we’re goin’ outside and then she’ll have to go open the door!”

Yeah, I hear ya. But it sure looked like that. And GABLE stood in the hallway looking expectant when the other dogs came in bouncing around to go out.

Look at that face! Doesn’t look like a little liar does he. LOL

neighborhood skunk

Gabriel and Sebastian had a run in with a skunk! I let the two of them out early in the morning. I always enjoy watching their two little bottoms and black tails go bouncing out across the yard every morning. They act as though the fate of the world depends on their getting to the back corner of the fence as quickly as possible! They go bouncing out and I go back in the kitchen to get the coffee started and assemble the things for R & M’s lunches.

By the time I have the various lunch bags out and the components put on the counter so I can sit down and assemble the sandwiches, etc., the little dogs are ready to come back in. This particular morning was no different. I may have taken time to make myself a cup of coffee, but no longer. I went in to open the door for the little guys.

As soon as the first puff of wind came in I smelled the skunk and thought Oh-oh somebody ticked that skunk off. Gabriel and Sebastian came when I called them and hustled in just as they usually did. I closed the door and gave no more thought to the skunk. Not until I followed them back down the hall. At that point I decided that they were involved, somehow in ticking off the skunk.

I’ve been around dogs who have tangled with skunks and this smelled no where near as bad as those. With those dogs you couldn’t be in the same barn with them! Regardless of that Gable and Bastian were definitely skunky.

R & M noticed it when they came down, but at that hour of the morning they had no time to do anything about the situation and I certainly couldn’t! It was smelly but not the eye-burning, nose-numbing potency of a full on blast. Once I sat in the room with it for a while my nose cancelled out the smell. I decided they must have merely been down wind of the skunk but not directly in its spray radius.

I have this vision of poor old skunk trundling along back among the evergreens on the other side of the fence scuffling through the duff under the trees looking for what ever goodies he could find when Gable and Sebastian came tearing out like gang-busters and scared him silly! His first reaction was to flip his tail and spray in the direction of the disturbance. Fortunately Gable and Sebastian were quite a ways off.

When I went back n the bedroom one of the little guys had gotten pretty sick over by their bed. I didn’t connect it with the skunk spray until much later. I simply cleaned it up.

When evening came the first thing that happened was that Gabe and Baby-bastian got baths! For future reference: a cup full of hydrogen peroxide with three heaping tablespoons of baking soda and a couple hefty squirts of Dawn dish soap is effective for removing skunk smell. Although for Sebastian it took two baths.

It wasn’t until later that I connected the barfing with the skunk. Now I knew this from past experience, but of course didn't remember in good time. A good dose of skunk spray in the face will make a dog dry heave for days! When Sebastian had to have two baths, I knew that he had been the one who vomited. I also knew it because the towel I had used to scrub up the vomit residue was making my bathroom smell long after I had rinsed it out and hung it to dry.

Poor little guys. But they still tear out the door in the morning to chase that skunk off. It’s the neighborhood skunk. Rachael came in after work the other night asking if we were sure the little dogs were in because the skunk had smelled up the neighborhood again. But this time it was somebody else’s dog!

Labrador Retrievers!

Well, I’ve been back in Ohio for a week plus a couple days now. Such a short time seems like a month!

After a few hiccups the first couple days when we were catching up on shopping housekeeping and doctor visits, we have all slipped back into the routine. The nice thing is that Rach is in Management Training so she has regular hours. She leaves at seven forty five and is back at six fifteen. Today is Saturday and she is OFF. How great is that?

She and Michael like being together in the evening and on weekends. And it is nice. We have company for the next couple days- Jess and his brother? friend? old roommate – have come to visit. Jess brought along his ‘new’ dog, Biff.

Biff is the result of several weeks/months of searching. Jess liked Maxim so well he wanted a chocolate Lab, too. One of the sad things is that a lot of people see these beautiful dogs and get all excited about the noble, obedient, calm dog walking quietly beside his master. If the did their home work they would discover that the noble, obedient, calm animal they are looking at is the result of about three years of patience and training.

Labrador retrievers are very energetic and intelligent. The combination makes for months of enthusiastic and careless destruction. Tails wipe knick-knacks off tables and shelves. Swinging behinds knock over stools. Bouncing bodies run into toddlers and hit you in the back of the knees at unexpected moments. This is not to say that Labs cannot be trained, but it takes a lot of patience to restrain and focus the energy without breaking the dog’s spirit.

Labs also like to carry things. They aren’t terrible chewers but they will pick up anything that is loose and within their reach. Balls, toys, rugs, and random objects are carried around the house and dropped in haphazard places. My Labs have carried dog toys, kid toys, sticks, chance stones and small animals. I had one Lab who loved to carry his favorite kitten around in his mouth—he never hurt it, just carried it around fully enclosed by those big teeth and lips with a little yellow tail hanging out. The kitten didn’t seem to mind at all and slept on Aspen. That was cute, but Lab pups have to be taught to drop things from their mouth at an early age because some things are not meant to be clutched in a moist mouth-not even gently.

Many enthusiastic, but foolish, new lab owners find themselves with a cute little puppy which grows too quickly into a good sized dog that is like a bull in a china shop and they cannot deal with the activity level. After a few weeks of futile screaming and crating and kenneling and frustration, they end up ‘getting rid’ of the dog. Unfortunately this usually means sending the dog to the pound. That’s sad. A Lab is a wonderful animal devoted to his family or owner, willing to obey and enthusiastic about playing. He will hike with his Human, swim, retrieve anything and nap, happiest when he is close by. But it requires months of patient training to have that dog. Most people aren’t willing to put in the time.

The only positive result of an abandoned dog is that Jess found himself a gorgeous chocolate Lab. It is still a little “over eager” and “excessively enthusiastic” at nine months old, but he is friendly and obedient in what he has learned so far. Jess is willing to put up with the enthusiasm and spend the time training him. He came last night and wore Maxim out in just a few hours. That is Biff wore Maxim out-not Jess.

I’m anxious to hear how he does today. Everyone is taking the dogs swimming on the other side of the reservoir. That’s one of Maxim’s favorite treats and Biff has never been swimming. He is going to love it.

If you want a dog, you can’t beat a Labrador Retriever-yellow, black or chocolate. BUT don’t get one if you are not willing to put up with the busy-ness and innocent destruction for the time it takes to train it. And don’t get one if you are not able or willing to give the dog as much exercise as it needs. Maxim gets time in our yard everyday retrieving far flung balls and frizbees and big plastic horseshoes. Plus he gets regular trips to the reservoir for swimming and hiking. Biff gets a two hour walk every night and would gladly take more. Lots of exercise is vital if you want a Lab. Otherwise you will end up with a destructive dog or one that gets dumped in a pound.

Later in the day

Biff and Maxim came back from the reservoir soaking wet and happy as clams. Maxim immediately went and sacked out under his favorite magnolia tree. He was pooped! Biff, however, was tired but still willing to socialize and chase a ball. Jess has only had him three weeks and he isn’t very well socialized or focused on humans yet. The people that owned him previously kept him in a crate or kennel all the time and did nothing with him. So Biff is learning to focus on the human who is talking to him. In just a little while with Rachael he learned to make tentative eye contact and watch for what he was supposed to do. He isn’t real good at retrieving (Incomprehensible! A lab who doesn’t chase a ball and bring it back for more) but in just a little while Rachael had him listening to her and at least tryng to figure out what she wanted.

Maxim went to bed a tired old boy. Biff went to bed pleasantly tired. Oh, to be a pup forever!

crazy dogs, crazy grandma!

Remember, these are 'catch-up" posts from when we were moving in Belen.

Tuesday afternoon, June 8
I tried to take Chloe out in the western courtyard this morning while I sat out there. THAT was confusion redefined!

First I got my coffee and my birdbook and my binoculars and went out calling the dogs. Huck came and Gable came, except little Miss Contrary Ears was too busy chewing on her pink pillow to come. So I put my things on the bench and came back to get her. There was some fuss with the new lead which she didn’t like AT ALL. When we finally got out the door,--not without an exorbitant amount of screeching from Chloe like the leash was killing her, I discovered Sadie was in the courtyard. She has found a place to squeeze through the gate from the eastern side. I put her in the house and discovered Gable was gone! And Thain was rattling the gate because he couldn’t get through.

Good grief. Why do I even try? I called a couple times—no Gabe. I put Chloe back inside, made Sadie go back inside. Let Huck wander. He doesn’t know which end is up anyway; I didn’t even want to try to mess with him.

I called Gabe again, went to the gate by the garage and called. No little black and white dog that way. I started back down the courtyard and as I went around the corner I heard a gate rattle a little bit and here came Gabriel Felix! Puffing! He either went through Sadie’s hole or found one of his own. He must have gone a ways because he had hustled to get back. But there he was all proud of himself. I gave him a treat and put HIM in the house.

Finally I sat down with Huck to drink my coffee and see what birds were out. And about the second thing I did then was slop my coffee! Merciful Pete! And with all that ruckus every bird on our eleven acres had headed for safer territory! I saw a couple flycatchers and the I-think-maybe-it’s-a-light-colored-mockingbird, but mostly I rested up from all the chaos. When my coffee was gone, I went back inside.

Don’t get me wrong. All of our dogs are good—well, except maybe Chloe, but she is too small and cute to beat yet. Besides she really isn’t bad, just doesn’t know quite what she’s supposed to do. The thing is they are still dogs and do the things that dogs do-check out every wandering smell, pee on every available bush and truck around following scent trails. And all of those things tend to get them in trouble sometimes—especially with grandmas who can’t get around very well. Sigh. . .

Tuesday, August 13,2010

I’ve written before, I think, of sitting outside in the mornings. When you sit on our deck you face the Manzano Mountains. They are almost exactly due east of us and slightly to the left of them, if I have my mountains straight, are the Pinos. Going the other way, you come to the Ladrones and there is a range in between which shall go un-designated because I can’t remember the name. To sit out here in the morning is to sit on top of the world. It is quiet except fro the distant traffic sounds from the freeway.

Our house sits on top of a hill. It may well be the uppermost house, I don’t know, but it feels like it. The other morning I sat out there for two hours as the sun rose from just one cloud width above the mountain to almost a quarter of the way up into the sky. It ducked in and out between layers of clouds and alternately warmed me and left me exposed to the chill of the gentle wind. This morning the sky was blue from horizon to horizon, north to south, east to west. Although the wind was cool and pleasant, it only kept the heat of the sun from being uncomfortable. I was out there for about an hour and a half this morning. I read and snoozed in the warmth and watched the dogs play.

Gable and Huckleberry are old men. Both of them have arthritis in their old bones. Huck has a lot of tumors here and there. Gabe only has one. Both of them are grouchy and snarl fiercely at the other dogs if they get too close. Both are very protective of their food dishes. Neither of them can see real well anymore. Gable’s ears are better than Huck’s. Both of them still have good noses. I don’t think either of them laid down for the entire time we were out. They trotted back and forth along the fence or stood on the corner of the deck, peering all around with their ears pricked. Every time they heard something they turned in that general direction and barked ferociously to warn off the attacking what-evers. Poor old guys. One time they were both standing on the deck and facing into the breeze. I have no idea what they scented on the wind, but both of them began barking fiercely. Must have been something horrifically dangerous.

Thain played the entire time. Last Saturday Notah brought him a baby pool to splash in. And splash he did! The pool is just big enough for him to get all four feet in and turn round and around. ( It would make a good bed if it had a blanket in it) He enjoys standing in it and splashing around while he chases the reflections in the water. Today he had a tiny piece of bone about an inch and a half long and three-fourths of in inch thick. The water was muddied from his getting in and out of it so many times, consequently the bottom or anything on the bottom wasn’t visible. He was carrying his little bone around, chomping on it from time to time, while he played in the water. Then he accidentally dropped it!

At first he was a little worried because he couldn’t find it. But the pool is so small that inevitably he stepped on it. Then he had the challenge of finding it with his teeth while the water was halfway up his long nose to his eyes. Of course he figured it out since it involved splashing even more water everywhere. Then came the game of picking it up, ‘accidentally‘ dropping it in the water, then ‘diving’ for it and picking it up again. Then he would drop it out of the pool on the deck. It always fell just under the beveled edge of the pool so it was a little hard to see from his angle. That involved in his getting out of the pool to find it. Or sometimes he could find it from inside the pool. In either event, continuing the game still involved accidentally dropping it back in the water and so on. He entertained himself for most of an hour that way. I was beginning to worry he would be all wet when I was ready to go back inside. But finally he took his bone over to the end of the deck facing the wind and lay down with it between his front paws. Before long he was all dried off.

I enjoy sitting in the sun as long as it isn’t too hot. I hiked for long hours in the sun long before we had the medical profession advising us about the life threatening dangers of skin cancer. ( I sometimes wonder how Man survived for how many thousands of years before we had doctors to tell us about skin cancer and the dangers of red meat and smoke in the air!) At any rate, I’m sixty five years old. If I want to sit in the sun I will and if I get skin cancer--oh well. My father and grand father worked in the sun for their entire lives and had no skin cancer. My husband’s ancestors lived in the desert sun and I’ve never known a Navajo with skin cancer. So I’m not going to worry.

Meantime, the sun feels good on my muscles and bones.

( This photo is not mine, but it is a good representation of the eastern horizon during a morning dust storm. Is that gorgeous or what! Notice the blurred landscape. That's dust-not poor photography.)

It’s morning in the desert. But it is one of those neat, eerie mornings when the sky is covered with clouds and the view to the horizon is dusty. You can still the see the mountains, but it is hazy. In Ohio it would be moisture. Here it is dust.

We have fallen into a routine now. Notah left for work at six this morning. About two minutes later Kerra woke the kids up and I went to the bathroom to wash up and brush my teeth before the kids needed to be in there. Tomorrow I’ll be a little speedier so that I get in there well before Seth and Keva need it. Gable was worried to death this morning that Kerra would let the other dogs out and he would still be in the bathroom with me. I don’t know what he thought was going to happen out there. Robbers, murderers, arsonists…maybe even they could find a hidden treasure—he has an amazing imagination.

I was worried about bringing him this year. I know he would probably bet sick if I left him in Ohio. He is really attached to me. But Notah has their new dog, Thain. He is the German Shepherd pup they got last year at the very end of April. I think he will be a year old just about on my birthday. Anyway he has grown up into a big dog. He is bigger than either of his parents and is going to be gorgeous when he grows into his bones.

I was worried that he would hurt Gable because his is big and he likes to play. He is still enough of a pup that Gable’s fierce teeth can intimidate him so I was not so concerned that he would attack him but more that he would put one of those big paws in the middle of Gabe’s already-not-too-healthy back.

When we got here we introduced the dogs to Gabe. The meeting with Thain was rocky so we put him out and brought in Sadie. Sadie is a born mama. She was happy to see Gabe again and ignored his grumbling. Soon they were being all friendly and things were good.

Then we brought in Huckleberry. He’s the old Dalmatian that Notah has had every since his college days. Huck just kind of ignored Gable. When Thain came back in everything was hunky dory, if Mama Sadie and Old Man Huck said Gabe was OK then Thain was fine with that.

THEN a couple days later there was a big dust up. Huck is old and partially blind and partially deaf. He only hears part of sounds and sees shadows in his peripheral vision. Gabe startled him and he grabbed him across the shoulders. Sadie came running to the rescue—not Gabe’s but Huck’s. Poor Gabe got rolled around in the dirt and slobbered over. Kerra was by the sink under the open window when the ruckus started and she burnt rubber getting outside to break it up.

Poor Gabe. Now he is really paranoid and growls whenever the other dogs come close to his bed. He has two ‘safe’ places—his bed and my lap. He thinks that no one can bother him or hurt him when he is there. And of course, he’s right. I don’t let any of the other dogs infringe on his personal space; but he is not allowed to be crabby either.

Last night I was helping him up on my lap and he cride when I supporte his neck the way I always have. Evidently he is still sore from his tumbling, even though there was no blood involved. Sadie and Huck both used their teach-the-pup-a-lesson-bites and didn’t intend to really hurt him.

Now the sun just rose above the clouds on the horizon. It is still clouds and overcast but the eastern horizon is less gray and the sun is well above the haze. Now it is laying strips of bight sunlight across the landscape. The cream colored house across the way is glowing against the still gray dark clouds on the western horizon. And the branches of tree beside it look like golden spray against that dark sky. The breeze that was stirring up the dust in front of the western hills finally made it to the top of our hill. It is blowing fresh cold in our window. I’m wrapped in a blanket, but I won’t close that window until I freeze! There is nothing to compare with New Mexico skies!

I thank the Lord daily that I’ve gotten back to the desert one more time. It is a separate blessing each time. I love Ohio and my home with Rachael and Michael, they are so good to me, but the desert holds my heart.