Shining Brightly

Dawn has always said that she has a foot in each of two worlds; she has recognized my Skater's "visits" on more than one occasion and realized things about him that I had never told her. She suggested that I keep a candle lit in the window for him every night.

Here is your candle, my precious boy; let it guide you to whatever you seek.

Birthday Bunnies

Whoever believes that there is no heaven and that the spirits of those who have gone before us do not watch and guide us from the idyllic place, has never been blessed with the love and friendship of a Dog.

Thank you for the message, Skater. Again, happy birthday, my boy.

5479 Days

Fifteen years (or 5479 days) ago, on an overcast Thursday afternoon, you entered this world and my life. In that first moment, little did I know that I was holding a tiny miracle, two pounds of fur-wrapped bliss that would forever change my life.

Our journey has been amazing, yet very unevenly weighted on those heavenly scales. You have put so much into your side, I have put comparatively little into mine. I am human, incapable of the unconditional and constant faith, devotion and love you have always given. My love for you is greater than any I have ever known yet inevitably lacks the purity of yours for me. There is a reason the God spelled backwards is Dog.

You are my prayer, my constant presence, my ever-vigilant guardian. If I could only see your beautiful face, look into the depth of your eyes and bury my face into your comforting neck once more ... then MY life would be heaven.

I miss you, Skater, sometimes more than I can stand. I pray for you, for those who went before you, but, first and last, always for you. I honor and celebrate you. And, on this sunny anniversary of your birth, I celebrate your journey and thank you for choosing me as the faulty human with whom you take that journey. I love you, Bug. Happy Birthday.

Boundiful Blessings

No, the title of this post is what I meant it to be; no typos involved.

Sometimes .... all the time ... I miss Skater so much it is palpable. One of his most endearing qualities was an immeasurable sweetness with a little bit of goofy thrown in for good measure. No matter what my mood, Skater could always bring a smile to my face or flat out make me laugh. He had talent. He had heart. He had a wonderful sense of humor.

Bounder is a very funny young dog and spending time with him, just watching him BE a dog, is one of my life's secret pleasures. Yesterday, I watched his silly antics and just reveled in my memories of THE dog of my heart. Somehow, I think Bounder knows what will make me laugh, what will make those photographs in my mind come alive again. When Skater was a baby, we called him Baby Huey; he was this goofball of a mobile stuffed toy that loved to explore and expand his unique sense of humor.

First of all, Bounder cannot seem to just lay down. Instead, he does this silly tuck and roll, eyes sparkling and tongue lolling. The end result is a major flop to the ground, on his side, with a definite grin on his handsome face. That was Skater's first "trick", invented on his own, perfected over time. It reminds me.

Both Skater and his uncle, Grouch, had a unique way of approaching someone they loved. Each would run, full tilt, straight at you. Skater ended the run with a tuck and roll. Grouch, who was a very large dog, ended his run with a dive between your legs. With his shoulders below your crotch, he would stand up straight and tip you over. Doggy bowling I suppose. Bounder has combined the two ... he runs, dives between your legs and just keeps going! It reminds me.

As I've said many times, I do ... I MUST ... believe that my Skater is still here with me. He leaves little signs and, yesterday, Bounder brought me one of those reminders. My little dork, Divot, who was raised by Skater, has always removed the eyes from all her toys; it's as if she thinks it blinds them so they won't see her coming. Skater, on the other hand, never harmed any of his precious toys. Bounder has a stuffed puppy. He obviously loves the spit-stiff little thing and he was VERY proud to share it with me yesterday. When I picked it up to throw it to him I noticed that he had removed one eye. It reminds me.

Does A Ton Weigh 2000 Pounds?

This photo was taken during Paula's first visit with us in California, well over 20 years ago. I remember how delighted she was to meet Don Quixote and I caught this image of the two of them, sitting in Helen's front yard. Although both of our lives took turns and traveled in directions neither of us could have predicted, I still consider Paula my best friend and am ever in awe of what she has accomplished, despite some terrible odds.

Skater's Uncle Ray was Paula's heart and it devastated her when he passed. She and Ray were a symbiotic pair, a joy to watch. She also had a very special place in her heart for my Warlock, (despite the fact that, on the same visit as photographed above, Warlock broke a number of Paula's ribs by pulling her over the dining room table and chairs), and he adored her like no other.

Anyway, I have often heard the saying that we are not given any more to bear than we are able and, that, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Those words are all good and well as a cliche but, when they have a direct relationship to what is current in life, they can be nothing less than daunting.

Yesterday, I learned that Paula has Multiple Sclerosis. Why? This is a woman who has devoted her life to the animals with whom she shares this planet. For many years, she has had the ability to communicate with and, therefore, kindly train any dog. Over the past few years, she has gotten heavily involved in equine rescue and it has truly become her life's passion. Now, she has to deal with the worry of how long she will be able to do what she feels is needed for her beloved animals, including those she has not yet met, those who will need her. Why?

To top it all off, yesterday, she lost her open air barn to a freak desert windstorm. It twisted and tore the metal roof and endangered Paula's horses. Thankfully, all animals and humans were safe and the horses are now boarded out until Paula can have her facilities repaired. Again, I ask why? How much becomes too much? Why would so many bad things happen to such a good person? It makes no sense to me. I will add to Skater's plan tonight; he now has a very important job - to protect my friend.

Family and Friends

This is how I imagine I will see my Skater and all those before him as they meet me at the Bridge. I love the anticipation, wisdom and peacefulness of this photo. It makes me think about the "ties that bind" and how some of those ties are so strong that nothing can break them while others snap at the slightest tension.

Part of Skater's nightly plan includes my telling him that he is my best friend ... and he is. Today, that made me think of friendships in general and familial relationships within the bounds of the same parameters that actually define a friendship. My mom is probably my best "human" friend. It took me many years into my own adulthood to realize that her love for me was absolutely unconditional; it's a nice and very warming realization. My dad was my friend but he has been gone now for almost twenty-nine years. My brother is not and will likely never be my friend; our relationship is purely an accident of birth. I have other friends who have entered into my life at different times and I am bound to them by choice. Friendship is a phenomenon unto itself; it is those ever-changing, multi-faceted and oddly balanced relationships that just plain work for the positive benefit and enhancement of those involved.

I've met many people who were and are completely baffled at the notion that a dog could be my best friend. I am equally if not more baffled at their lack of understanding so simple a concept. I've had a number of dogs over the years who were "heart" dogs, friends without whom I could not imagine living a happy life. Moo, Skater's great-grandmother and one of the kindest souls I have ever known, was my best bud for almost fourteen years. Her grandson, Grouch, the comedian, was another. I honestly can't say that there are degrees of friendship involved but, rather, a need fulfilled during certain times in my life. Moo and Grouch were there during happy times and I was less dependent upon them. Skater went through an entire cycle with me, from the heights down to the depths, and he always seemed to recognize what was needed and when.

I guess I have finally stopped feeling as though I had to compare each relationship to another, quit questioning which dog really meant the most and definitely stopped feeling guilty about even wondering such a thing. Each dog was there at exactly the right time and was exactly right for that time. To truly love a dog and for the dog to truly love you, there must be that sense of a symbiotic relationship that flows to the needs of both beings. I really believe that dogs are more in tune with that than humans are. Dogs do not try to control the emotional balance. Instead, they become a part of it, giving, taking, sharing. It's the "unconditional" that's the blessing. I have been SO blessed.

Who You Gonna Call?

Mirriam-Webster defines a hero as: "1 a : a mythological or legendary figure often of divine descent endowed with great strength or ability b : an illustrious warrior c : a man admired for his achievements and noble qualities d : one that shows great courage." I hear the word "hero" being used an awful lot ... usually in conjunction with someone performing one act in a unique time of crisis. While I don't want to take away from anyone who has ever risen to such an occasion, I can't help but wonder why we don't applaud our everyday heroes, those who do so much for us throughout their lifetimes. It's the little things that add up to such big things.

Skatiebug did so many of those "little things"; I realize now that too many went unnoticed at the time. He amused me by learning to eat off a fork, made me smile to watch that huge jaw closing gently around the tines in order to pluck off a solitary morsel; it was a gesture of comfort to me during a bleak time in my life. He would converse with me or anyone of my choosing - all I had to do was ask and, doggy lips pursed, he would break into a sing-song that could force the most hardened heart into a smile; another gesture of comfort. He babysat puppies, taught the rescues, tolerated Divot with divinely inspired patience. He never complained when I got home late after an extra-long day at work. He learned to poop in the snow, something he hated. He held on - for me - through some horrendous health issues that would have killed another dog with ease. He was the epitome of comfort. Skater never harmed another creature on this earth. He never, ever complained. He lived an amazing life comprised of millions of softly heroic acts and gestures. Skater was, is and will always be my hero; that's unequivocal and cemented in stone.

Because of having been so blessed with the company of such an amazing dog, I now recognize the heroics of other dogs. My friend, Lois, and I were playing with Bounder the other day; he's still a baby with all the energy and humor that only a young, male GSD can have. At one point, Lois's 11 year old Glass Palace son, Rodney, whom I absolutely ADORE, was watching us, seeing Bounder run in ever-increasing circles, tongue and tail wagging. Rodney silently contemplated this scene until he had had enough, at which point he voiced his opinion of the child's antics and our fascination with them. Of course, Bounder had to go up to the fence and, with a look, tell Rodney, "Tough! I'm younger, I can outrun you and it's MY time now." I looked at this silent communication between the two dogs; one so young, full of energy (and himself) and just beginning on his journey through life and the other, older, graying, less steady on his feet and coming to the end of his journey. I told Bounder that, as much as I loved him, he was still just a Prince in Rodney's kingdom. Rodney was and is the hero; his wisdom, tolerance, sweet nature and continuous effort to be all that he ever was and could be still is so apparent in his aging body. Bounder is so lucky to have such a mentor. I hope he realizes it.