collie Archives - Adulting: Second- Half

Elusive

****Happy Birthday, Big Red! (and little brown dog 😉 ) M, you were the first to make me realize the divine privilege and pleasure it is to be a mother. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I love you infinitely.****

So I have just spent over an hour trying to upload a picture that I took of Josie, our wonderful collie. I took the photograph this morning, through our sliding glass door, as I observed elegant Josie, out on our lanai, face towards the sun, standing calmly next to our abundant, bright pink, hibiscus blossoms. Josie, a full coated, tri-color collie, is total eye candy. She is truly a feast for the eyes. You’ll have to take my word for it. The best part of Josie is that she is a sweet, gentle dog. She has no idea how amazingly stunning she is, which makes her even more lovable and incredible.

We are enjoying a fabulous spring here which is making me take more pauses, during my days, to really soak in the beauty all around us. Our plants are having a particularly good blooming season, and it feels so good to marvel at the true beauty of the little piece of this amazing world which we live in. Last night, my husband and I sat in our tall, green, fragrant grass and we gazed at the almost full moon. I didn’t want to come in. I truly felt what it means to take a “moon bath.”

In my frustration with technology this morning, I have lost my focus on what to write about. Perhaps the lesson is to stop trying to explain (in the way of words), and to stop trying to capture (in the way of photographs), but really instead, just be completely one with the beauty of the moments. Perhaps the lesson is to feel the feeling of awe so immensely, that you almost lose the borders of your body and you forget that you are anything but awe. I think that this is what is happening to me this morning and this spring. Words and pictures can never fully and completely convey experience. Words and pictures become their own experience, while the actual sensory experiences can never be taken prisoner by time, or by words, or even by film. Our every moments are precious, elusive, fleeting gifts and our only requirement is to savor them as they happen.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Sun-Baked Dog Fur

The other day, when I took my dogs out, the two older ones sat down decidedly in the grass, their noses twitching to the scents in the wind. They were making it clear to me that they weren’t going anywhere else, anytime soon. My dogs instinctively knew that they needed a restful sunbath. So they took it. And I followed suit. And it felt wonderful to sit out in the pleasant sunshine, on the soft grass, smelling the earthiness all around us. I buried my nose in the soft, luxurious fur of my collie, Josie. There may be no better scent nor feel in the world, than sun-baked dog fur. This is a type of the easy, simple therapeutic experiences that can make all of the difference in a day, but we often forget to take the time to do them, nor at the very least, to notice that we are doing them. In this way, animals are often wiser than we are, because they are so attuned to their senses, and allowing themselves to bask in their senses.

What are the little things that perk you up? What are the little things that make you excited to anticipate doing them? Really taste and savor your coffee, or the various flavors of your lunch. Really bask in the warm water of your shower. Be really deliberate about what scent of perfume that you want to apply today, and make a point to sniff your own wrist often and delight in the scent mixing and changing with your own skin’s essence. Follow your intuition. Take the time to savor the sensualities of the day.

“Sensuality is the total mobilization of the senses” – Milan Kundera

“To be sensual, I think, is to respect and rejoice in the force of life, of life itself, and to be present in all that one does, from the effort of loving to the breaking of bread.” – James Baldwin

12 Inspirational Sexy Woman Quotes For Strong, Confident Women | Michele Brookhaus | YourTango

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Our Stories

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

I’m cranky this morning. To me, sleep is probably the most crucial tool in my self-care toolbox. When I have a terrible night’s sleep, I’m just the worst example of my most awful, terrible, dark-sided self. Last night I got creative with dinner and I mixed some ground turkey with tabouli, which I have to say was delicious (and my family agreed). I decided to be generous by sharing some of it with the dogs, by mixing it up in their food. Big mistake. Colossal error in judgment, on my part. Josie, our collie, has a sensitive stomach and my husband and I paid the heavy price for my short-sighted stupidity, last night. Josie woke us up about every two hours to go out. (at least she saved us a mess in the house. She’s tidy like that.) It was like having a newborn again. I read that earlier this year, a 57-year-old woman, in the United States, gave birth naturally to a baby boy. All I can say is, “God bless her.”

Before I started writing today, I decided to check out Holiday Mathis’ horoscope column to see if she thought that there was any hope of me, salvaging the rest of my day. Holiday Mathis often writes in wise riddles. This was my horoscope for today:

“The special fondness between you and your people gets the spotlight as you laugh and share stories, many retold for the 100th time. This is how a legacy gets cemented.” (I’m a Sag, by the way.)

Now, I am not sure how good I will be at telling any stories today, without a level of snark and irritability, stemming from my exhaustion, but we do have our weekly Family Facetime call tonight. And I have noticed that I repeat a lot of the same old stories that I have told at least 100 times, on these family calls, and also to hundreds of other different people. When I was a kid and my elders did that repeating of the same old stories, I always figured that it was a form of aging and memory loss, but now I am wise. As I am telling one of my fond stories, I am fully aware that I have told the same story 543 times previously. As I am telling the same old story, there’s a voice in my head saying, “Oh, come on! Lady! You’ve told this story again and again and again. Look at their eyes glazing over. Stop betraying your age, you old fool!” But I can’t help myself. As an elder who commands some respect, I have my captive audience.

I think that maybe I didn’t repeat my stories so much when I was younger because I didn’t have as many stories. Or I was taking it for granted that I still had a whole lifetime to make stories. Or maybe I didn’t have the wisdom to glean anything from my stories to make them worth sharing. Or perhaps when I was younger, I was more self-conscious, and thus more afraid of being called “boring.” I honestly don’t know. All that I do know, is that as I age, I repeat a lot of my same old stories and it’s not a memory thing. I am fully aware that I do it.

I do like Holiday’s positive spin on it, though. My husband and I have been watching the Vikings series on TV. The Vikings did not have a written language. Their history is all based on legend and lore. Many times during the show, we witness Viking mothers telling stories of their rich history and ancestors to their children before they fall asleep. In the words of Holiday, “This is how legacy gets cemented.”

Most of the stories that I tell again and again, have a degree of fondness and intimacy and hope and humor interlaced in them. Many times I am repeating these stories to the very people whom I made the stories with. Maybe this is a way to try to capture and to keep the wonderful feelings that the experience brought about for all of us. Maybe repeating stories is about holding on to the very essence of all of the players involved. So that when these loved ones are no longer physically with us, we have captured the very spirit that will make them more real to those people who will never meet them physically, but will learn about their heritage, through legacy and lore. People and experiences that are important to us, we want to keep. We want to cement these people and experiences into posterity. Our stories are our lives. Our stories are our way to remain alive forever. Our stories are just a way of transferring the energy of the love and the life that exists in our hearts, on to those who go after us for generations to come, in this adventure that we call Life.

Back in the Saddle

Hi friends! I’m back to my usual writing corner. Josie, our collie, is keeping a watchful eye on me, making sure that I am staying put, and not leaving any time soon for another adventure. She likes to herd every member of our family, right where she can keep a careful eye on all of us. Our trip was incredible, and thankfully, my youngest son, who is epileptic, remained seizure free for the duration of the trip, after suffering two major seizures, hours before our departure. Thank you for your love and prayers. I felt them and they sustained me. We are hoping and praying that this is just a matter of upping the dose of a new medication that my son has been trying since the beginning of the year. Time will tell.

I am in that digestion stage, which we all go through, after experiencing major incidents in our lives. I just experienced the trip of a lifetime, seeing things I have never seen in my lifetime, and may never see again. I also experienced a major disappointment, realizing that once again, my son’s epilepsy is determined to remain a terrorizing part of our lives. I have been through an onslaught of stimulation this past week. Now, I am just sitting with it all, trying to absorb what I want to keep, and also to find peace with what I cannot control. Mostly, I want to remain in that flow of love and faith, that allows me to move forward, to live my life in trust and in wonder, no matter what is happening to me, and around me.

Where we were traveling is an incredibly quiet place. It was probably the most quiet, peaceful place which I have ever experienced in my life. There are few roads, few cars, and even few animals, where we visited. One time my husband and I were hiking, and I asked him that we not speak for a while. I wanted to soak in the pure quiet of it all. It was intensely beautiful and healing to be able to be that quiet in myself.

I always try to make a trip, or a novel experience, a deliberate, new part of myself . What I took from this trip, was a reminder of how peaceful life can be, if we allow it. What I took from this trip, is how important it is, to find those quiet, still, peaceful moments and to sit with them and to soak them in. These still moments are the purest moments in our lives when we get to experience the most aware part of our being. These are the moments that we get reacquainted with our spirit within, and they are vital to our well-being.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Happy Furthday!!!

Josie (collie, who turns 3 today): It’s our shared birthday today, dear Ralphie! May I be the first to wish the both of us, a very lovely and Happy Birthday! (prim, beautiful and alert with white-tipped tail swishing, like an overgrown, elegant fox)

Ralphie (yellow Labrador retriever, who turns 4 today): Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! (jumping around and licking everything in sight, hitting a few notes on the piano with his chin and leaving some dog slime on the keys, grabbing a now formless/headless toy and running around the house with it, tail going like a helicopter blade)

Trip (Boykin spaniel, who is a little over a year old): Treats!!! Does this mean treats?!? Does this mean lots of treats?!? Does this mean extra treats?!? Huh?? Huh?? Huh?? (springboards off of the couch and exuberantly and fearlessly jumps on top of Ralphie, despite $600+ dollars worth of training to stop this behavior, so as to not be mauled by Ralphie, a large dog who has 70 pounds on him, and a huge retriever mouth, full of sharp, white teeth. Ralphie, despite having a saint-like amount of patience, has shown that even a Labrador retriever’s renowned patience has its worldly, and understandable limits.)

Camera pans on Ralphie, the yellow Lab, dreaming of what his perfect birthday would look like: Ralphie, swimming in the pool from dusk to dawn, with his whole pack, humans and dogs, all swimming with him, and throwing his disgusting, wet, soggy toy into the pool endlessly for him to retrieve at the surface, and even from the bottom of the pool, and then clapping for him, enthusiastically, each time, as if we have never seen him do this 800,000 times before. Ralphie only comes out of the pool once, for a whole, hot, delicious steak, fresh off the grill, without even having to beg for it.

Camera then pans on Josie, the elegant collie, dreaming of what her perfect birthday would look like: A day when herding Ralphie, while he is swimming in the the pool would not be necessary, because Ralphie would not be in the pool. A day that the squirrels stay in their own nests, in the neighbor’s yard, far, far way, so that she does not have to worry about those icky, little squirrels dirtying up our trees and our lawn. A day when there will be no deliveries from Amazon Prime, so she can save her voice. A day when Trip would stand still long enough, so that she could tidy him up, licking him carefully, as if they were both Fancy Feast Persian cats. Josie, enjoying a long, long, long wonderful walk with no kids roller skating nor skateboarding on the sidewalks, to disturb her peace and comfort.

Trip, the boisterous Boykin spaniel: F*ck birthdays! I do whatever I want to do, every day!! Give me another treat!!

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Animal Love Story

Josie, our collie, was teaching Trip, our spaniel puppy some yoga yesterday. It’s good for them to practice yoga, both mentally and physically. I should have joined in. (I’m giddy in excitement because our eldest son comes home today for a visit, but I’m not going to say anything because the superstitious part of me, just doesn’t want to jinx it.) Speaking of cute animals, did you see the news story about Hubert and Kalisa, the aging African lions at the Los Angeles zoo? (I cannot wait to see our son. We haven’t seen him, in person, since Christmas due to this damn virus. But again, I’ll just keep this upcoming visit, to myself.) Hubert and Kalisa were best friends and partners, and were rarely seen apart. They were euthanized together yesterday, because they each had quite a bit of ailments, at their ripe age of 21 years, which is apparently a very, very long life for a lion. (Of course, there is all sorts of drama with my son flying in, because besides the virus fears, we are watching the path of the hurricane, whose name I can’t pronounce (Why do we even have to get creative with names of storms, these days?!?) very closely. But I’m just going to keep my fears to myself and I am just going to stay positive.) I think that Hubert and Kalisa were like the regal, real life fur edition of The Notebook. (I can’t wait to announce on the blog that my son is safely in town, tomorrow. My readers are going to be so surprised and so very happy for me.)

Working on My Alpha

I mentioned that we added a new fur member to the family a few weeks ago. Little Trip, the Boykin spaniel, has implanted himself into our hearts and into our pack. Still, adding a new member to the family pack is a process, and despite doing it many, many times over the years, adding kids and pets into the mix, every few years or so, I was a little out of practice and my dogs showed me that I needed to “get my alpha back.”

Most pet owners understand the theory, that as much as we try to turn our pets into people, by putting them in clothes and walking them around in strollers, reality is, animals are animals, dogs are dogs, and dogs feel most secure when their “pack” is lead by a strong, alpha pack leader, who keeps everyone in their place, with a kind, but firm countenance.

A good alpha isn’t a screamer and yeller. No, a good alpha leader is always in control of himself or herself and leads by example. A good, strong alpha can keep everyone in the pack, in line, with one firm stare. A good alpha is captain of a well run ship and always has that ship pointed in the right direction.

Josie, our collie, understood right away how to make it clear to Trip, the puppy, that she was an alpha over him. From the get go, she made the rules very clear, about what was going to fly and what wasn’t going to fly with her. Josie and Trip bonded almost immediately because Trip clearly understood where he stood (way below) with her. So, about a week into things, Josie and Trip were playing together, sleeping together and he would dutifully stand, for as long as Josie deemed necessary, for a good “lick down” when Josie felt that Trip needed a good cleaning – a tongue sponge bath, so to speak. Josie has become a good cross between Mary Poppins and Nurse Ratchet with Trip, and he respects her greatly. It is safe to say that they have a healthy bond.

Now, Ralph, our Labrador retriever and I, did not start out on the right foot with the puppy. We essentially let Trip walk all over us (as witnessed in the picture above). We did not set up our standards and our expectations, straight out from the beginning and we were allowing a tiny eight pound puppy, to be the alpha of us. Noticing that I was allowing a little puppy to call a lot of the shots, appeared to make Ralph, our Labrador retriever, feel somewhat insecure (some would say jealous, and that might have been part of it, but for a dog, with pack mentality, insecure is even a worse feeling than jealousy). If a twerp-y fur baby was ruling one of the main alphas of the pack, what did that mean for the welfare of our pack overall? Ralph’s patience was running very thin with the puppy, and one night, very uncharacteristic of Ralph, he let his evil dark twin make a rare showing, which quickly woke me up to the fact that if I wanted our pack to be a peaceful, happy family, I would have to get “my alpha” back into working order.

In the process of quickly re-establishing law and order in my household, it struck me how important it is for we women to remember that we must be the alphas of our own lives. A good alpha is calm, knows what she will accept and won’t accept, and has high standards for herself and for others, who want to be part of her life. Yesterday, I was watching a interesting Zoom call, which my husband’s company produced, discussing race relations. In the call, a very dynamic and impressive black woman, called white women out, challenging us to “use our power and our privilege” for good. Honestly, it felt good to be reminded that I am powerful. And that I can use the power that I have for good, in my family, in my community and in my country.

We can learn from every experience that we go through, if we open our eyes to the fact that we still have a lot to learn. My dogs have been my best teachers these last few weeks and I’m so grateful to them, once again. It feels good to feel my alpha rising in me again. She is strong and powerful and wise and kind, and she knows how to lead me through life, the best. We are all feeling more secure around here these days, most especially, me.

Fur Babies

I have two dogs. They were born on the exact same day in May, exactly one year apart. Ralphie, our Dudley yellow Labrador is a little over two and Josie, our tri-color Collie is a little over one. They are both wonderful creatures.

Ralphie is over-the-top, in your face exuberance and intensity. He is smart as a whip, lead hopelessly by his bear-sized nose, and constantly on the move, unless he is entirely passed out. Still he keeps his fervor going by swimming in his sleep. When he gives kisses, they are full, wet and all encompassing. His huge tongue is like a wash cloth you would use to wash your car, and with a few passionate licks, he has managed to cover your whole face, your ears and your neck. He is not at all protective, he would definitely have the “flight” tendency in a “fight or flight” scenario. He is so absolutely and completely in-tuned to us, his family and to himself. Every night, he comes to the couch, where my husband and I are sitting, to remind us that it is his bedtime by lying his head on one of our knees.

Josie is elegance, sweetness and perkiness all wrapped up in the package of a beautiful, warm, fluffy dog. My daughter calls her the teddy bear. I liken her to a giant Pomeranian. She is a cuddle-bug, with a capital C. Her licks are dainty, with her small gentle tongue barely darting out of her mouth as she “cleans” your hands, much like a cat. She lays with her front legs crossed, very lady-like, even when she is deep in sleep. She is always alert to dangers, warning us, dependably, of the impending doom of the Amazon delivery person or the pack of squirrels living in our trees.

Walking the dogs every night is interesting. Ralphie always has his nose to the ground. He is on a mission and seemingly unaware of anything other than what he is tracking with his stoutly snuffer. Josie, being a herding dog, has her head on a swivel, only occasionally indulging in the scents on the ground which Ralphie is likely to roll around in, if he feels any slack in the leash. Josie always greets the other dogs, ducks, and deer that we see regularly, pertly, prettily, excitedly, with her beautiful, fluffy tail swishing elegantly as she gives each and every creature we meet, a delighted, buzzing look as if to say, “Isn’t life just grand?!?”

The dogs are a perfect yin yang to each other. Josie loves playing life guard to Ralphie, as he does his Navy seal routine, treading water and swimming in our pool tirelessly. She runs around the pool, watching him, barking warnings when she thinks that he is too tired and should get out of the pool. Josie is the first to bark warnings of impending visitors to our home. Ralphie loyally follows behind her, looking confused and bewildered, hackles up, sounding out the occasional deep “Woof!” to back her up (to which fight he is not at all sure), his formidable size and intense stare, enough to sometimes get people to forget, that he is just a big, goofy Lab, easily won over to anyone who offers a pat or a treat.

We adore our dogs. Our sons are all coming home this weekend, all with the same sentiment, “We miss the dogs.” Our dogs are so uniquely themselves. They don’t try to change or to be something different than who they inherently are to the core. They don’t try to be like each other. They adore our family, each other and life, sharing toys and playful romps with exuberance and yet restraint. Animals have so much to teach of us about living life. Ralphie and Josie, are my friends, companions, inspiration, comforters, protectors and mentors, and not necessarily in that order.

And Along Came Josie

So, we all knew that this was coming. After days of me and our dog Ralphie, lying around in morose corpse poses, after the loss of our elderly collie, Lacey, we started looking at websites for other dogs. Our family has never had just one dog at a time. We like things in multiples – kids (4), pets (plenty). I’ve always had a soft spot of compassion, for anyone who lives right next to us. Anyway, I told my husband that I want our next dog to be large, full of soft fur, gentle, yet a good guard dog, good with kids and other pets, easy to train, elegant, yet sporty enough to keep up with our crazy, energy-filled 18 month old labrador, Ralphie. However, due to my rawness over the loss of our legendary collie, Lacey, we couldn’t get another collie. He looked at my list of requirements, and placated me for a while as I poured through dog books and websites, and finally, he softly asked, “Are you sure we shouldn’t get another collie?”

Our new puppy is a 7 month-old collie named Josie. She does have different coloring than Lacey, but otherwise she has already proven to be a perfect example of why we adore collies. She reminds me so much of Lacey, it sometimes brings tears to my eyes, but she is definitely less timid than Lace, deciding that our socks make for wonderful toys, swimming with Ralphie might be fun, all of the Christmas presents under the tree must be hers, and that counter surfing can make for a fun sport, especially when you have a long nose. As our beloved veterinarian Dr. Pablo said to Josie (and I kind of think that he might have been talking to me, as well), “Oh, Josie, you have BIG shoes to fill. But every puppy is his or her OWN puppy. Every puppy is special.”

Lacey – Love

We lost our beautiful collie today. My heart is breaking into a million little pieces. We got Lacey about nine and half years ago. I had put an ad on Craigslist looking for a family dog as our Irish Water Spaniel, Little Bit, had recently passed. Having four young children at home, I was hesitant to start at the puppy stage, so I was looking for an adult dog who could fit into the mix of a chaotic, boisterous family. A woman on a farm contacted me, letting me know that she had a collie who needed a new home. Her donkeys had been kicking Lacey, who had been given to her by another family and the whole situation wasn’t working out. When I arrived at the farm, Lacey was in a rusted pen with a few chihuahuas. She was covered in fleas and had a bare spot on her back where the donkeys had been kicking her. She was timid and jittery. People rush to judgment when I tell this story, but truthfully everyone on the farm, people and animals alike, seemed to live in the same conditions. It was just their way. Truthfully, they were kind, and they gave me Lacey, and for that, I will always be grateful.

I didn’t have any intention to keep Lacey when I took her home from the farm. She really wasn’t what I had in mind, as our next family dog. I just knew that I couldn’t let her stay there. I had every intention of taking her to a Collie Rescue organization, but as I treated her and got to know her, I never got around to making that call to the rescue. I fell in love and connected with her, within a few days. I’ve loved her ever since.

Lacey was beautiful. We never once walked her without people commenting on her elegance and loveliness. She was always a little bit timid, but in times that she felt protective of us, her family, she threw her timidity right out of the window. I never doubted that she would have taken a bullet for any of one of us. Like all family dogs, she was there through so many milestones in our lives, the exciting ones and the painful ones. She was that constant, gorgeous, steady being with soulful eyes and long, soft, warm fur – there for us always, during the storms and the calm. Lacey would walk with me and my husband, forever, as long as we needed to, whenever we were working our stresses out, through walking. We walked for miles and miles and miles, together with Lacey, throughout the years. She loved our walks.

It feels wrong to be able to be writing this. It feels wrong to send out the Christmas cards with her picture on it, but then it would feel wrong not to honor her either. I guess everything just feels wrong right now. Lacey, thank you for everything. I love you with all of my heart. Play and run in the green, grassy, fields, in perfect restored health. Until we meet again, beautiful . . .