Tag: dogs

Posted on

March 25: 5:48-6:19 – A Long Walk

long walk after work

out on the farm with the boys

we love exploring!

I come home tired at the start of the work week, which almost always starts out in high gear. All day, I look forward to returning home with the dogs and being able to put on a pair of sweatpants and go for a walk with them. More and more, my heart stays right here on this farm even though my mind and body go to work.

I gather Fitz’s leash from the basket by the front door – the only one of my trio who will chase a critter into the woods and completely lose his way back. Boo Radley and Ollie only lose their minds with excitement to get out the door as we prepare to take to the trails my husband keeps cut back just for us. It’s my slicing time today, my 31 minutes between 5:48 and 6:19, just before dinner, and the boys and I step out into the still-chilly damp air and hear the birdsong. Except for the occasional airplane, it’s all we hear other than our own footsteps.

It’s peaceful. So peaceful, in fact, that I could take the rest of the school year and just take walks instead of going to work, where the phones forever ring, the meetings never stop, and even the delightful sounds of laughter are still…..well, noise.

I signed my contract for another year, and by December of this year I’ll know whether I will pursue retirement starting 26-27 or hang in there for another year on the heels of the coming one.

So much is changing in the world of education, and at times it seems overwhelming to keep up. It seems there is no “staying ahead of the curve,” as there used to be.

The more I take long walks and feel the inner joy of the peace it brings just being home, the stronger the chances of retiring next year. I want to read more than I have the time to read as it is now. I want to take long walks with the dogs in the late morning. I want to press plants and decoupage them onto candles, to sew soft flannel rag quilts in light pastel patterns, to visit grandchildren and have lunch with retired friends…….to bake, to work the crossword puzzle every afternoon, and to get started on some writing projects that work leaves no time to enjoy. I want to think less each night about what I’ll wear the next day based on which meetings are on the calendar.

How does one know when it’s time to turn in the keys and sign on the dotted retirement line? If you’re retired, I’d love to hear your thoughts on this one. On one hand, I feel ready – – even past ready. On the other hand, it all seems so final to walk away from a career in education when that has been my life.

I would love for you to share your perspectives with me. What are your best tips and pointers, and your best advice for someone considering taking the leap?

Boo Radley and Ollie
Johnson Funny Farm West Side
Posted on

Schnoodle Shenanigans Nonet

Fitz, Ollie, and Boo Radley

Our three schnoodles have their morning rituals down. They are as predictable and relentless as the wrens building nests in our garage. Same games, same antics every morning and afternoon- and we play along because things were not always this way. It took effort and patience to build the trust and happiness from the trauma of life before rescue, and we are the ones these boys depend on to keep them from starving and being abandoned again. We are not their first rodeo. But we are their first and last loving family – even if we have to convince them that they are all a little bit badass as we anthropomorphize their every move and talk for them in their own special voices. Finally, they are seen and heard. And loved.


one is viciously tempting dad’s play

(tug of war with his posh blanket)

two is cussing shameful threats

at the deer just outside

three nose-nudges ball

to Dad to throw

down the hall ~

{morning

games}!

Posted on

The Peace of Home

On Saturday, we picked up the dogs from the kennel. They’d been there for over a week, and we don’t think they sleep very well there with all the barking and the stress of the other dogs who are strangers to them. We believe this because every time we pick them up, they sleep the rest of the day and straight through the night once we bring them back to the comfort of their home.

It’s a lot like how we feel when we come home from a trip. We can let down and truly relax. All our stuff is back where it goes, and we are no longer living out of a carry-on suitcase.

Our dogs are spoiled, and used to a quiet space where they lounge in our bed all day and eat kibble soaked in bone broth. They pile up in our laps or on the back of our chairs, stretching their front legs around one side of our neck and their back legs around the other, functioning essentially as a living fur scarf and warming us from the inside out.

One of them, Ollie, has no upbringing whatsoever – – he will walk right across the end table to get from one of us to the other as we sit in our family room chairs. He is often seeking his place, because he arrived in our family as a “guest dog” after my grandson visited and wanted to know which of our two dogs was going to sleep with him in his bed. Fitz is invisibly tethered to me, and Boo Radley does not stray far from my husband. Ollie, a young stray schnoodle offered to us by the rescue when two other families walked away, joined our family after being found as a young stray on the streets of Gainesville, Georgia. He is the perfect “guest dog,” simply wandering between us, happiest when someone is throwing his ball to him.

The quiet comfort and peace of home is the best part of the Johnson Funny Farm, but it would not be this blissful without the dogs here with us. They add such character, such love, such personality, such humor – and such predictability – to our lives. They know their routine.

When I rise, earlier most days than my husband, they wait in bed for me to use the restroom and wash my hands. Once I come out, they are on their way down the bed steps, heading to the door for their turn.

Out we go for the first quick outing, into the dark of the morning no matter what time of year it is, and they handle their business quickly before coming back inside – back to bed on work days, to wait for me to finish my shower. Once I head to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee and begin writing, though, two will saunter in and reposition themselves – Boo and Ollie – while Fitz finds his toy turtle and burrows under the bed covers until time for the second outing of the morning.

I think what I love best is the weekends, where they know we are going nowhere and that the day will be spent at home with them, belonging to each other in the way that dogs and their people do when they’ve bonded.

There is no other peace felt as deeply, at least for me, as the complete and total togetherness of being home with our boys.

Oh, to sleep this spontaneously!

Posted on

Culvert Kitty Cat

culvert kitty cat

living the dream in the park

…..until chased by dogs

Here’s what happens when dogs go walking in a state park and encounter the feral cats that live in the underground tunneled culvert system along the edges of the roads:

We were out walking the trails in the state park and were on our way back to our campsite when they spotted a cat basking on the side of a ditch. Our dogs were on leashes and are nothing but curious, but I fear for these cats with the wildlife and the dogs not on leashes. We saw several of the cats that people have mentioned seeing in this state park. The cats appear to be well fed and mind their own business, but I worry for them because of extreme weather and extreme people. Ollie wanted to play, but this cat wasn’t having it. I’m a bit worried that if they don’t trap these cats to spay/neuter them, then this park will be covered up in cats within a year’s time.

It seems like the culverts would be the perfect situation for trapping them and getting them fixed. And as much as camping folks seem to love our pets, I would imagine that an appeal for small donations would bring a quick response to pay for the necessary procedures. I do hope that someone is thinking ahead and doing the feral cat math before they take over.

Posted on

Dogfight

Boo’s head from the back, with his ear and head sustaining bites in a fight he picked


Boo Picks Fights He Can’t Win Haiku

at pickup they told

us our dogs got in a fight

we both looked at Boo ~

Boo Radley caused it

guilty ~ with a bleeding ear

(both brothers smiling)

Posted on

Belonging in the Change

a tiny black wet

Schnoodle nose

nudges my arm as

marble-black eyes

covered with wild brows

peer up at me

from the camper seat

when I lift my arm

to raise my mug,

drink cold brew coffee

from my Halloween

Snoopy mug I truly

believe will make

the cool temperatures

arrive sooner ~

Fitz is slumped

against me,

seeking, too, all

the magic of

forthcoming fall

the changing

of seasons, gentle

wind blowing outside,

a tad early for the

acorns peppering the

camper’s roof but

all the rest of

the comfort of rituals

he knows as

reassuring trust

and belonging

in his forever family

Posted on

Day 5 of July Open Write

Mo Daley of Illinois is our host today at http://www.ethicalela.com for Day 5 of the July Open Write. She inspires us to write dodoitsu poems. Mo writes, “I was looking for poetic forms that I was unfamiliar with and stumbled upon the dodoitsu. It’s a four-lined Japanese form with no set rhyme scheme. Its syllabic structure is 7-7-7-5. The dodoitsu is usually comical and usually concerns love or work. Include a title if you wish.”

Mo notes that some consider the dodoitsu the Japanese limerick. It reminded me of our schnauzer, Fitz, who has CUPS disease and has had most of his teeth removed and is scheduled for the rest. He may have lost his teeth, but he hasn’t lost his ranking order.

Toothless Alpha

he’s practically toothless

our aging schnauzer alpha

gumming vicious warning snaps

at badass others

Posted on

Sunday 3-Dog Donut Tricube

donut dogs

breakfast on

Sunday treats

trio of

Schnoodle boys

all lined up

awaiting

their next bites

patiently

*Tricube poetry consists of 3 stanzas with 3 lines of 3 syllables each, on any topic. As I prepare to return to school this year, I look forward to working with small groups of writers. These short forms help introduce various aspects of poetry such as line breaks, syllables, and structure. Having a bank of poems I’ve written helps me to introduce these to students as we write together.

Posted on

Fitz’s CUPS

We learned a couple of years ago that our more-Schnauzery-miniature-Schnoodle, Fitz, has Chronic Ulcerative Paradental Stomatitis (CUPS), a painful condition in which the plaque builds up on his teeth and causes painful mouth ulcers. We knew something was wrong when my sweet lap dog who was never anywhere else took to the underbed and began whining odd-sounding noises. It prompted a vet visit, which turned up the diagnosis.

We have to have his teeth cleaned regularly, and with each cleaning we have had to return for extractions to alleviate his condition by removing teeth. He’s down to practically goat status, and after eleven teeth the first time, 8 teeth the second time, and now a projected additional 8 teeth, I’m inclined to go ahead with extracting all of them and resort to soft foods just to end his pain once and for all and give him some quality days in his senior years. There’ll be enough other aging crap to suffer, so this will put the skids on one condition.

This is the downside of rescuing a dog in poor health (Fitz came to us with a severely broken leg, among other things), but it’s also the upside. I ask myself: if not us, then who?

We may not be able to love every needed rescue and save them all, but we can make a difference for this one.

And that matters. If you’re teetering on the verge of rescuing an aging dog, do it! Even though an aging dog sometimes costs a small fortune, the return is love as they gaze into your eyes and wish they could talk to tell you how much they appreciate all you do for them – – – and what’s more valuable than that?

our dog has few top teeth in his mouth

now after a cleaning we learn

he needs more tooth extractions

we need a Go Fund Me

to afford Fitzie

but there is no

price on love…..

he’s our

boy