Graceland

It is no secret that I could become smitten with just about any dog. For years, I wanted a second dog in the house for Finn but my landlord did not allow it. The fall of 2010, months after I moved into my condo, a friend sent me a photo of a gorgeous gray-faced gal named Calillou. I immediately set up a meeting with the dog I could only say her name while singing the last syllable in a high-pitched, off key tune. I sat in the grass with the something or other mixed breed dog on a warm, sunny day and she smiled through broken teeth and squirmed towards me on the emerald green grass. Calillou so quickly found the window to my heart that salty tears rolled down my cheeks; and I watched her throw herself on her back when another dog barked at her. It would only be a perfect marriage if she allowed Finn to remain King of the Castle as easily as the wind blows. I went to sleep that night with my sacked-out Lug stretched across the foot of my bed and visions of a senior dog love dancing in my head.

My friend Sheila went with me to make the introduction because the shelter requires any potential adopter to sign in before bringing their own dog inside. There was no way I was leaving Finn alone in that parking lot for even a second. I opened the door to lift my Lug begrudgingly, out of my SUV; he had not been allowed to jump on his own for years, to prevent any further damage to his old boy knees. Usually, Finn looked around brightly, eager to discover what fun I had planned for us ANYWHERE we arrived; even at the vet's office where he was always showered with treats and returned the favor by lavishing anyone who was near with blubbery smooches. But, my Lug stopped, he was so tentative and his smile faded while he eerily looked around. I choked, ruminating all the animals who stood in that same parking lot; hesitant then left behind, confused and scared.

I knew Finn would tell me very quickly if Calillou was meant to be his gal pal; but despite any inkling that my Lug might be the one to get himself ruffled at the sight of a new dog; Calillou took one look at Finn and started snarling and lunging. My Lug turned to me, with a knowing look that said "can we go now?" And, we did.


This past week, Gavin and I have had a foster dog in the house named Elvis. The big, sweet goober arrived late Sunday evening and from the instant he walked in the door after a long ride from Missouri; I knew my Lil' Big Head and he were not a perfect match.  Elvis would try to so hard play with Gavin and Lil' Big Head found the Lab's oafish ways extremely annoying as Humpfest 2013 ensued for two days. It was pathetic to watch Gavin try to grasp Elvis's back end and the 90-pound dog, just stood, tongue hanging out the side of his grinning mouth. The instant Gavin stopped, Elvis swatted him again, trying to initiate a game. And, when Elvis barrelled into Gavin, repeatedly, every single walk; Lil' Big Head took out his frustration on every tree he could scale and gnaw. We worked hard to only chase trees at Gompers Park but I let it go this week; Gavin needed a win.

As the week went on and I attempted to keep up with all the emails that came from having so many suitors for the adorable creature who I grew very fond of; Gavin grew despondent. My heart shattered as I watched Gavin retreat to the bathroom and curl up into the tightest ball. Some friends have said maybe Gavin was not ready to share me but for reasons I cannot explain; Gavin relaxed the most when Elvis clumsily laid on my lap, the best he could. My hunch is that Lil' Big Head knew Elvis would not try to lay on top of him if he was preoccupied by me, at least for a few seconds.

Wednesday night, Elvis was laying on the floor and I went to snuggle with Gavin in the bathroom as I held him close and whispered, "he's not staying little buddy, I promise". Gavin yelped and barked like I have never heard then snapped at the air. His eyes were blown apart when he realized how close he jerked towards my face; it was gut-wrenching. Gavin would rather chew his own leg off than hurt anyone. While I tended to Gavin, thinking his neck was injured and maybe Elvis clumsily jumped on him too hard, just trying to use Gavin as a trampoline. But, after a visit to the vet, it turns out my Lil' Big Head had an allergic reaction to a possible bug bite because his nose, a place I kiss ALL the time was swollen and sore.

Luckily, the next night, I spoke to a woman named Nicole that I just knew was the right fit for Big E. I sat in the back seat of my tiny car and lured Elvis over my lap with baby food as his giant, klunky paws soaked my lap, jacket, bag and back seat with muddy, rain water. We drove through Friday afternoon traffic and every time I uttered a word, the clumsy, adorable dog tried to jump into the front seat and onto my lap so I drove silently and occasionally glanced over my shoulder as Elvis caught a bit of sleep in the back seat. When I met Nicole, I could see in her eyes, what a kind person she was and I felt honored to be a part of helping Elvis find his way to her.

And, I while I will always hold a special spot in my heart for Elvis; I think I will be waiting until I am ready for a forever second dog before I open my door again. I promised Gavin he gets first pick too; I can love any dog as long as Lil' Big Head is happy. This morning, I took him to the school he likes to play fetch and wiggle for every person that walks by and I spotted a giant paw print in the snow that I can only guess is Elvis's; then we walked to the pet store and I let Lil' Big Head pick out two new toys. As soon as we come home from our holiday travels; Gavin will need to see his girlfriend Grace again. He has forgiven me and; as I write this, I have a big, snoring head in my lap again. I missed that.

My Other Dog

For years, I have stood next to lovely people who have a bouncing puppy grabbing at their pant legs, tugging on shoestrings, then, squatting on the rug and peeing. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the pictures of a beautiful dog, the same breed and color but much older and clearly, very loved. I wait for the words "but, my other dog" because they are always uttered and never ill-intended. The rational side of the brain knows that every dog is different and even if we fall head over heels with a specific breed of dog; the personalities vary as greatly as the weather does hour to hour in Chicago. But, it takes considerable effort to look into the eyes of a newly hitched dog, and see only the amazing dog in front of us, no assumptions or paws to fill.

When I started the quest for a new dog; I was waffling on whether or not I would be able to look at another Lab's face and not feel hurt; not assume impossible attributes. The dogs I was looking at online had been through enough turmoil in their lives to walk into a home with unrealistic expectations. I spent a lot of time thinking about WHY I thought I was ready for a dog before I reached out to any rescue. For me, the role of caretaker fills me up in a way that nothing else seems to do. But, even though my heart was ready to love again; I would be lying if I said Gavin and I did not butt heads a time or two.

In the late hours of the night; I would throw Lil' Big Head's leash onto his collar and trot down the stairs. Gavin would stop and stare. I would wave for my little buddy to come along; head lower, stare. This went on for a couple weeks; I would sit on the stairs, wait to put Gavin's leash on when we hit the bottom of the steps, wave hot dogs, meatballs or baby food in his face and Lil' Big Head just refused to go outside for his last pee without an epic struggle. One night, I was mustering the energy to start our nightly routine and decided to threw another option to Gavin. I stood at the edge of the rug near the couch where Lil' Big Head was snoozing in the tightest ball he could possibly curl and said "outside or bed?" Gavin lifted his head, slid off the sofa and shuffled right into my bedroom. Finn adored being outside and peeing on every tree, leaf or pole he could lift his leg on; any time of the day and in any weather. And, though I thought I was looking at Gavin as his own dog; years of going outside for fun pees seemed standard to me but Gavin would much rather sleep.

A couple days after Gavin wobbled onto my lap and let me know his heart was mine if I wanted it and I, of course, was smitten too; a friend sent me a picture of a Chocolate Lab. I glanced at Camden, my stomach did somersaults and I had no control of my fingers as I sent an email and kept hitting refresh over and over again, waiting for a response. The volunteer who brought Gavin to meet me just gushed over how much Lil' Big Head went bonkers for other dogs. And, while I would likely highly advise anyone adopting a new dog to not also adopt a second dog at the same time; I thought if they loved each other, I could save two dogs!

When I walked up to the door to meet the big, brown boy; I could see through the glass a giant, barky dog who's nubbin for a tail was bobbing back and forth. Cam was happy to meet me and even more ecstatic to go for a walk, walk, walk while he stopped to snuffle leaves, just like my Finn. He was not eating much except for cheap, grocery store treats; despite all the efforts his awesome foster mom was making trying to get him to eat food higher quality than my own. Camden REALLY hated his ears being touched and; even though I was not supposed to fall again, I did.


As I rattled off to my mom through the speaker in the ceiling of my car that I was going to put post-it notes
all over the house to remind myself to not rub Camden's ears; one of Finn's favorite spots. And, if he and Gavin were not a match made in heaven, I would not adopt Camden. I was very open with both rescues and delighted they both were willing to see if the two dogs would be a good fit. As I continued to ramble on faster and faster; I could hear my mom's thoughts by her silence. But, she knows that I need to figure things out for myself. And while, it may have seemed absolutely ludicrous to adopt both dogs at the same time; I was so turned around when I first met Finn that I did not even know I was lost but tending to my Lug's needs and getting to know him made me feel like I was home. Unfortunately, big, sweet Camden did not like my stairs at all and Gavin's energy was way too much for the awesome four-year old Lab. My mom later told me she was nervous that living with another Chocolate Lab so soon might prove harder than I imagined.

At the risk of sounding hokey, I believe things work out for a reason. I have kept in touch with the rescue and Camden ended up staying where he belongs, with his once-foster mom. And, starting this Sunday, we will have a foster dog in the house through the same rescue. Gavin is going to be ricocheting off the ceiling with excitement to have another puppy actually staying with us, not just visiting for an hour or two. I have to thank Buzzy, Skipper, Cinnamon and Mika for making me smile and helping me realize that I can look into the radiant face of a Lab with pure appreciation for those goofy grins.

And, while Gavin shares Finn's infatuation for sharing microwave popcorn, does a mean imitation of my Lug's "I got my bone shuffle", also likes to sit, stare, sit, stare, beg with his eyes whenever I am cutting up treats for my sessions and has recently started to bark when I try to take his picture, one of Finn's favorite comedy routines; I have to continually and attentively remind myself to listen as much as I can to Gavin. Lil' Big Head recently started the doorknob gaze when we come home. I always treasured the anticipation Finn had on his face as I fumbled to find my keys, my Lug adored coming home. Gavin is going to dig his digs even more when he realizes his new buddy will be staying for awhile.

Holding On & Letting Go

Wilbur blushed. "But I'm not terrific, Charlotte, I'm just about average for a pig".

"You're terrific as far as I'm concerned", replied Charlotte, sweetly, "and that's what counts. You're my best friend and I think you are sensational."-E.B. White

When I gawkily arrived at the dusty, dirt road and clumsily opened the greasy door handle of the chipped, cracked barn door; I wanted a dog, a buddy. I never intended to find my muse in the runt, outcast of the litter; a creature who would weave for me new paths, passions and a friendship that I will treasure far beyond my feeble days. Fortitude came so easily to my Lug and he reveled in being my rock, my inspiration. And, every time I looked into his devoted, merry eyes; I believed I was sensational too.

This time of year, I am usually as giddy as my nephew, Isaac, about upcoming holiday traditions. Every year growing up; I looked forward to the stories my grandmother would tell about how her mother had passed onto her the sparkly, teal and silver wind-chime I always searched for the perfect position on twinkly, tinseled limbs. I loved seeing what character my mom and aunt chose for each of my cousins; we all had a wooden, hand-painted ornament with our name inscribed at the bottom; my sister Beth was a cherub. How did they know she would turn into a woman with such a big heart? But, mending a heartache caused by bereavement is not a smooth, uphill ride. And, I remember, after losing my grandfather exactly 11 years ago today, we all tried to make Christmas festive and fun; to honor what we all knew my Papaw would have wished. However, it was formidable to lift each other's spirits and not be melancholy about the vibrant man that we were all missing.

While I am so looking forward to seeing Gavin gallop through wadded-up wrapping paper and wiggle-stretch-shimmy on the carpet next to my brother Matt; there's a lump in my throat. And, because the holidays bring such significance to love and magic, I can't NOT think of Finn. He exuded both. But, when Gavin is not in super sonic play mode, he needs me to lean on so now I have to find the moxie for both Lil' Big Head and I. And, oh, that Lil' Big Head sure brings his own ways of showing love to me everyday. This weekend, I took a nap on the couch for the first time in ages; though I was telling myself I was going to "rest my eyes", a favorite tale of my Papaw's.  When I plopped my head onto the pillow, Gavin curled up in the crook of my knees, so endearing. And, when I woke up twenty minutes later to heavy breathing on my neck and his paw wrapped around my waist the first thing that popped into my mind was Jeanine Garofalo's line from Truth About Cats and Dogs, "you can love your pets, but don't LOOVVEE your pets". I laid there for awhile longer and just rubbed Gavin's shoulders, there was no need to disturb Lil' Big Head, he was so peaceful.

I thought I would have a hard time with another dog, any dog laying on Finn's beds; ripping apart my Lug's old toys or wearing his coat. But, it's just stuff. And, Gavin is my dude, he deserves to be spoiled and treasured for the dog that he is. Lil' Big Head looks so handsome with Finn's coat layered on top of his sweatshirt but he also resembles a burrito and it does not phase him that Finn's name is scribbled across the chest. The name tag is only present because I accidentally laid the coat on a candle the week after I bought it and burned a hole in a coat that cost more than my own. Sometimes, I still have to remind myself when tears roll down my cheeks as I am cleaning up Gavin's toys, or what's left of them and I stop myself before tossing a bone onto the big orthopedic dog bed that Finn's not there.

When I see Finn in my dreams, his body is young but he still has bushy grey eyebrows as they made him

look more dashing and animated; fitting for my Lug. And, while I talk now of my sadness; it still creeps in at times but it rolls along like a wave now rather than a sucker punch to the chest. The Finn who paddles through my heart stops and sits next to my Papaw by a stream. My Papaw looks over at me with the orneriest of grins and a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. They reminded me so much of each other, raucous sense of humor but, if I needed my Papaw, he was my rock too. Now, it is my turn to be Gavin's anchor; devote my love and keep that barn door open because nothing would make him happier than another dog in the house.

Wilbur's heart brimmed with happiness....."Welcome to the barn cellar. You have chosen a hallowed doorway from which to string your webs. I think it is only fair to tell you that I was devoted to your mother...I shall always treasure her memory. To you, her daughters, I pledge my friendship, forever and ever."
"I pledge mine." said Joy
"I do, too," said Aranea
"And so do I," said Nellie
It was a happy day for Wilbur. And many, more happy, tranquil days followed.
-E.B. White 

Thanks and Giving

Last year at this time, I was nestled in between my nephew and the arm of my mom's sofa. Finn was sound asleep at my feet next to the twinkling Christmas tree. Gavin was named Cappucino and was likely spooning his brother, in a cage, on a cold, concrete floor. Isaac and I were drawing a picture together; he would outline a silhouette then I would scribble a jewel tone into an ornament. As the picture took shape, I noticed the scene looked just like the first Christmas Finn and I visited Ohio. The previous day, my brother Matt and I had been reminiscing and laughing about my Lug's Clark Griswold-like entrance to my childhood home. Isaac giggled when he told me he heard the whole story and held his hand over his mouth while he snickered about how naughty Finn was as a puppy.

This year, I am grateful for so many things, including my marvelous luck to have saved a diamond of a dog from a potentially terrible fate and challenges that allow me to grow and test my strength. This week has been a bit of a doozie in our house; Gavin is none the wiser because he's been living it up at daycare while I frantically called electricians, turned off circuit breakers and notified my neighbors that we had some electrical issues that caused my dryer and dishwasher to stop working and the coffee maker to catch on fire. Lil' Big Head and I are safe now, and the burden of replacing two not-so-cheap appliances seems miniscule when I think of the alternate story lines that could have unfolded.

So, today, I offer my thanks to my amazing mom who offered her help and support while I was panicking and to my family of friends in Chicago that I will be sharing my Thanksgiving meal this evening. But, I am also more aware than I was a week ago that I can never, ever be too grateful for my health, safety and the warmth of a snoring puppy.

The Woman in the Mirror

"If you want to make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and then make a change." Michael Jackson

Thankfully, the depraved demon spirit that possessed Lil' Big Head for the past couple of weeks has been cast out. Even when Gavin is absurdly disobedient and elfin; it's because he wants so badly to play, all the time. Hapless Lil' Big Head convulses, trying with all his puppy self control, to not nose dive onto the rug and sink a tooth into one of the sisal knots. And, who am I to squash his friskiness? I regularly fight to control my laughter; and am constantly re-evaluating how to teach Lil' Big Head and other dogs the house rules without taking away their personality or vigor.

Every time I turn up the temperature on my thermostat, Gavin's walks become shorter and his shivering becomes more prominent the instant we step outside. Becoming a cold weather wimp has been a seamless transition for me and I am sure I can concoct fun ways to keep Gavin entertained this winter. But, I thought I should find a new form of exercise so I do not bust out of my pants before eating season even begins. My friend Nora suggested online workouts through Fitness Blender and I found my salvation. Gavin is perplexed by all my hopping and lunging around the house; much to his confusion, without squeaky balls. One morning I was perusing through the hundreds of FREE workout videos and I stumbled upon viewer comments and man, they were downright mean. I know this may sound a little Pollyanna of me, but if I dislike the video, I stop watching it and move on with my life. I could not understand why so many folks slandered this couple who have spent their money, time and expertise to help others, for FREE.

Later that night, I saw the same anonymous cruelty on Facebook. A woman's dog had been shot twice with arrows and it was so sad to see her crying and holding onto her injured boy. I started thumbing through the photos to make sure the dog was okay and to see if the woman could afford the surgeries her baby had to endure. Again, among dozens of comments that seemed to be directed towards a guy who said he did not like dogs, NOT ONE expressed interest in the dog's current health status or how the woman was doing. This is why I unplug to recharge my batteries.

A few years ago, I was in need of a break from all the inner chaos that can develop from battling traffic throughout the day and trying to keep up with emails. So, Finn and I went to Asheville, North Carolina to go hiking for a week. My Lug was no longer a young stallion so my plan was to traverse the mountain for two hours at a time then take Finn back to our cabin and rest. It turns out that I was the one who needed the longest naps as Finn bobbed and tapped from the door to my bed not long after lunch, holding his manly pink, mint-scented, rubber ball.

At the time, it was his security blanket; my Lug carried that ball with him everywhere he went. Finn could walk for hours while chomping and slobbering, rarely skipping a beat while he explored the countryside with me. One afternoon, I stopped to take a photo and Finn looked down the side of the mountain, the ball must have slipped out of his mouth as it rolled down wet leaves and stopped about six feet below us. Not much ever troubled Finn, but losing his ball was devastating. Every time we hiked after that, my Lug stopped and stood, crestfallen; and I had to call him away to follow me. I could have replaced forlorn Finn's prized toy but as we both sucked in as much fresh air as possible; I started thinking about what kind of damage that ball could do to the environment. What if an animal ate the toy and choked? What if the foreign matter had an adverse effect on the vegetation and killed indigenous plants on that side of the mountain? I decided Finn and I needed to recover his ball.

When we went back to the the cabin to rest, I thought I could create a makeshift pulley out of two leashes so I went to the store, tested out my new contraption on my Lug and we hit the road to recover his ball. I wrapped my left leg around a tree and held onto one leash wrapped around Finn's chest with my left hand, and gripped the other loop securing his tummy with my right fist as his eyes lit up. My Lug was so excited to retrieve his toy and shimmied down the mountain while I held on to make sure he did not slide on the wet leaves or get his paw caught in a hidden hole. Finn was elated and I waited to share this adventure with my mother AFTER we were back home safe and sound.

I often think about how Finn and I were such a team, always up for an adventure and a challenge; and I will never know if anything bad would have occurred by us leaving the ball on the mountain. But, I can look at myself in the mirror and know I did my best to prevent a deer from ingesting a ball that could cause suffering and injury.

The other night I was walking into the drugstore and I was in a hurry but I saw an elderly man, who was
severely hunched over, limping and prodding through the parking lot with his walker. My eyes welled up because the hatred I had recently read was heavy on in my mind. The first thing that ran through my head was a wish that no one has or will ever taunt this gentleman for being frail and slow. Another night, I might have quickly glanced up from an email as I tried to respectfully pass him but I walked behind him, very aware of our shared presence. When the man's thin hand shook as he reached for a basket; I asked if he needed any help but by watching his body language, he either did not hear me or he did not want my help. And, if I learned anything at all from my independent Papaw or my freethinking Finn; both who would rather topple over than to let their dignity slip away, I try not to interfere without being given permission. I hoped I would see him again as I slowly walked through the aisles, looking for my staple items. The elderly man walked towards me and I smiled and said hello and he repeated it back to me. That was it, the end of my interaction with a stranger who I secretly sent peace and light.

I am humble enough to know that my actions have a minuscule impact on the world. But when I crawl into bed tonight, I hope the person who just peered back at me from my bathroom mirror chose to make eye contact and either pull a dollar out of my wallet for the man standing at the expressway exit or at least tell him I'm sorry for not having any cash. Or, instead of typing "people suck" when I read about another dog who was treated terribly by a human, that I make a small donation to an organization that supports people who love their pets but can't afford the care they would like to provide or I simply wave a "thank you" hand to someone who allows me to merge into traffic.

In keeping the Michael Jackson theme, Gavin and I are working on a new trick, "Moonwalk" which was inspired by a lovely client's daughter. I have not quite mastered holding a video camera and training but it "feels real good" to spread the creativity of a child. And, Gavin recently passed the exam for us to start volunteering with Safe Humane's Ambassador program, Lil' Big Head is ready to spread love with the world.

IT'S Back!

El Diablo, Booger, Turd Devil, Dirtbag and a nickname I stole from one of my clients, Punk. The label changes, but the gremlin "BLEH! BLEH! BLUP! BLEH BLEH BLEH!" and charging so fast from one side of the room to the other his feet slip around on the hardwood floor like Gavin is both possessed and on fire has been a daily occurrence. This has been Lil Big Head's awesome response to the command "sit" and usually includes him batting me with his paw, nipping the air then laying down staring at me with his "how bout no?" look on his face.

Without fail, the instant I turn off my electric toothbrush; I hear rapid pitter patter into my bedroom. Gavin knows that unless I tell him "you are going to see your friends today" that it means he has enjoy a peanut butter stuffed toy in his crate for a bit. Cue the violins for poor Lil' Big Head. And, everyday, I find him laying with his frog legs extended towards the door, facing away from me and head ducked as low as he can possibly make it while he looks eerily over his shoulder. Lil' Big Head thinks I can't see him. But, when I catch a glimpse of his giant peepers in the mirror, he tries to look again doing his best to be invisible and hoping that just this once I will let him stay on the bed. I tell him a second time "go to your house" and Gavin slithers front paws first and drags his back end behind him. I am certain that rubbing his junk on my blanket is punctuation for his message. Lil' Big Head always shuffles through the living room, past the office door and into his house where he sighs then begrudgingly eats his Kong.

I actually find Gavin's daily attempts to stay snuggled in my room adorable and if the goober did not fly past his antler, dogwood stick, dumb bell and bone to eat my blankets; I would let him sleep wherever he darn well chose to when I was not home. But Lil' Big Head has been an absolute terror this past week and I am glad Finn helped me learn over the years to laugh off some of his embarrassing mischief.

The Finn I remember had a warm glowing halo above his head and always gazed at me with a lifetime of love in his eyes. But, memories can be very selective and when I watch Gavin knock over a 4-year old child with his wiggle butt; I remember getting schooled by my brother Matt when he returned to the living room to find puppy Finn laying on the couch, with bread crumbs hanging off his lips and ketchup and mustard smothered all over his big ol' snout. My ungraceful Lug managed to scale the entertainment center with such stealth, the plate was in the exact spot Matt had left it and every knick-knack on the shelves were in their proper position.

Finn was elated when he was a good boy and he was just as haughty and happy when someone furrowed their brow at him. Gavin on the other hand, has mastered the guilty look. The evening that Lil' Big butt-checked a little boy; he kept turning back to me for treats (which is a new and super cool development) but he got so excited that he truly lost control of his back end. And, as the kid kept shaking his finger at me saying, "You should teach your dog to lay down" over and over again; Gavin slunk behind me with his tender "I'm sorry" face. The tiny human was so salty; I felt obligated to prove to him that Gavin is pretty dang good flopping onto his belly so I told Lil' Big Head to "settle". Irony is not lost on me.

What I have grown to understand and perhaps it is age, experience or just surviving what I thought I might
not, Finn's loss; is that I care less about proving myself to the world than I did when Finn and I were in the same stage of our relationship. My Lug never barked AT me, except when I was unbelievably stressed out. When Finn was a pup; I gave him a bone every time he barked so my mean, upstairs landlady would not yell at us. Once we started training, I realized what a whoopsy that was and when I stopped being so keyed up about every little thing; I realized Finn was telling me to settle down, I was stressing HIM out. The first time I called out "meatballs" and Finn kept wandering through the park, sniffing grass; I knew he was losing his hearing and Finn had to be on leash for the rest of our walks. Young me might have worried who saw my dog not listen and be compelled to explain it away every time I saw someone who knew he had a stellar recall. But, my image became less important than keeping my Lug safe and treasuring our strolls and his vibrant spirit.

On Saturday afternoon, Gavin was into EVERYTHING. Every single time I turned my back, Lil' Big Head was racing through house and digging paper towel rolls from the recycling bin. And when I let him back out of his crate, he squawked and gnarred then threw himself onto my bed where he thrashed and again, tried to maul the same blanket he wraps himself up in on chilly days. I was more excited than usual for his play date with Grace and Bailey. Unfortunately, El Diablo grew bored of stampeding past Kate and I with his girlfriend; and stealing Grace's stick. Gavin decided that he could have the most fun by hump, hump, humping Grace. I would pull him off and as I held him in a settle position, he kept thrusting the air with pure crazy in his eyes then race right back to mount Grace. Head or tail, Gavin did not care. It was exhausting to keep grabbing him and Gavin took great pride in making Kate laugh every time he shoved his winky onto poor Grace's head while Bailey proceeded to jump on her back end. Sweet Grace just stood there and looking right and left, waiting for us to save her. Fortunately, when I brought my terrible puppy home he slept like a baby but was back at his punky ways again the next morning, bouncing from dog bed to couch and shoving his butt into the air while he growled and rolled around like a cockroach. Thanks goodness I had a long day and was already planning on him going to daycare. Now, if you will excuse me, IT is sleeping and I'd like to savor the moment.

Tribute to My Boys

My dearest Finn,

I did not sit down for three years. And, I watched you treat children as human bowling pins while you had the time of your life barreling over squeals and giggles. Because of you, I learned how to be patient and listen; and sometimes behavior is not "good" or "bad" but a message, a channel to open my eyes. You inspired me to find the person I was meant to be. I thank you, my Lug, my everything for helping me see that if I gave a little, what I would receive in return was so much more than I could ever have imagined, even in my most beautiful dreams. And, your dog kisses had magical powers to mend my broken heart, many times.

You made me laugh and approach the world with a lighter step when all I wanted to do was dig my heels in the ground and fight for what I thought was right. When you refused to let age and crappy genes deter you from being the brave soul, independent spirit and happy-go-lucky dog you always were; my compassion blossomed deeper than I thought possible. You taught me that happiness is not something to seek outside myself but it is always in my heart; I just had to be quiet long enough to experience it.

Your insatiable appetite for life gave me the strength to get up when I fell down. No care, worry or stress in the world seemed as troublesome after a long walk with you. And, I now understand that if I stopped trying so hard to figure out the right time; all I had to do was look into your eyes, the truth was in front of me all along. Most of all, the love I will always feel when I see you standing in front of me, looking up with pure adoration; is ever present, and it is still with me everyday; even if I can't rub your silky, floppy ears. My faith has been restored in magic and blessings as I strive to more closely connect with my spiritual side and trust that there is so much beauty my human heart can not understand, yet.

To my sweet pea Gavin,

I am learning that staying inside while snuggling on the couch together when it's wet and dreary outside is a
lovely way to to spend an afternoon; and your snore-warble-hum is a very tranquil lullaby. I watch you wiggle and jiggle with even more enthusiasm than normal whenever a large man with a hood or a pregnant woman pass us on the street; I know that you loved someone else and were loved once too. We are both figuring out that the world is not that scary when standing next to a friend who opens their arms for a warm hug.

I do not dare think of a day when you will not be with me because the thousands of joyful moments I know you will inevitably bring to my life squashed any consideration I gave to placing a padlock around my heart. I can give you an amazing life with as much fun as your heart desires and deserves while you become a part of; not necessarily my whole world. My relationship with you and the awesome dog that you are are quite different from my angel Lug. But, you and I know how many times a day I whisper "I love you" and you repeat it back with your deep, soulful eyes. I watch you and am inspired as you leap into the air, willing to give everyone your love. Sometimes you fall but you always bounce right back up, so excited and ready to again give your affection. I can see we will learn a lot from each other, darling Lil' Big Head.