Tag: Sophie

Posted on

Life With Lilly Episode 4 – Street Chicken

Well, #LillyNO and I just got back from a whirlwind trip through the Midwest.  You may recall (if you read this stuff) that I had mentioned leaving her with a friend for this trip.

Yeah, about that…

If you’ve ever had one of those moments where you stop and ask yourself “what the #%&$ were you thinking?” then you can relate to me last week.  To refresh your memory, I took #LillyNo in to get her spayed and micro-chipped.

Two days before I was going out-of-town for a week.

Sigh.  I know.

She did great with her surgery, although that first day, a couple of hours after we got back home, I took her off the bed so she could go outside for a potty break.  And I was handling her gingerly, even more so than usual given her surgery.  When I set her on the floor she let out THE most mournful yelp that lasted every bit of 25-30 seconds and she cowered at my feet.  I almost broke into tears on the spot.  And, in that instant, I asked myself what the #%&$ I was thinking by leaving her behind.  I couldn’t do it.  I called my friend Jacquie and thanked her, apologizing profusely, but knew I had to bring my poor puppy with me.  By the next day #LillyNO was feeling significantly better (Thankfully) and we prepped for the trip.  Which was pretty darn cool, if I do say so myself.  And I just did, so.  The purpose of this particular trip was A.) to marry my wonderful god-daughter (to her also wonderful sweetie pie, duh) and B.) swing through Nashville on the way home for a concert (naturally).  And both events went off smoothly.  Except for the whole almost forgetting to do the paperwork which actually, you know, marries the happy couple.  But that’s a story for another time.  I’ve got ample filler here without that tale.  Besides, the two littlest grandkids were thrilled to have #LillyNO in for a visit.  As evidenced by – adorbs, right?

For starters, the Little Diamond scored HUGE bonus points with old Grandpa Joe on my first day there.  As she sat on my lap, looking up at my unshaved chin she proceeded to count all the dark hairs in my stubble.  Now, tbh, there aren’t many.  But to the mind of a three-year old, it was a significant number and she proclaimed it as such.  Heart officially warmed.  Her other particular highlights came during the festivities on Saturday.  As the flower girl (read-flower princess) she marched down the aisle, on time, with a huge smile on her face, stopping at my leg to give me a great big hug until she went back to Mommy and Daddy for the duration of the ceremony.  She was adorable.  Later that night, at the reception, we had the fortune to be seated in close proximity to the cake.  This was no small deal to a cake fan of her magnitude (mine too) (because apple/tree, etc) but shortly after the cake was taken back in to the kitchen to be cut, she looked over at the cake table and said, in a very loud, very precocious three-year old voice “Somebody stole the cake!”  After being reassured the cake would, in fact, be back soon, she was fine.  There’s nothing lower than a cake thief, especially for someone as fond of cake as LD.  Me too, btw.

I’d also like to thank Illinois for providing gale-force winds on Saturday afternoon, along with snow blowing horizontally.  Quick reminder, I just had two Tropical Storms pass through my area and neither provided the wind speeds I saw.  Also it was, like 50 degrees warmer here.

Let’s just say I’m not remotely sorry I won’t be back there for the winter “festivities”.

Nashville was a lot of fun.  One of the guys from the firehouse met me down there.  Tom is a great guy in general, and a great guy to see a concert with in particular, and we saw a fantastic show.  Jason Isbell at the Ryman Auditorium.  If you’ve never checked out his music, please do, it’s amazing.

I also learned #LillyNO is apparently a subspecies henceforth known as Urbana Canis (h/t to Google Translate for giving me Latin) aka Urban Dog.  She loved Nashville.  I suppose it helped that she was treated like Leona Helmsley by the hotel staff.  Although, unlike Leona, #LillyNO loved them right back.  She was given numerous treats, a travel water bowl, and a tennis ball along with being fawned over every time they saw her.  Her elevator skills are pretty impressive too.  As soon as the doors opened, she would walk in and take a spot in the far corner, at my feet.  She sat patiently until we got to our floor and then dutifully pranced off to our room.  I think her favorite part, however, came during our walks.  She not only encountered many adoring humans (and was appropriately charming to them all) she also found quite a different bill of fare as compared to walking around our yard.  Now, for background, by all indications rabbit poop must be classified as quite the canine delicacy.  Sophie *skypoint* used to scavenge the backyard meticulously in search of it and #LillyNO has spent roughly 93.1% of her time outdoors here doing the same thing.  But rabbit poop doesn’t hold a candle to…

Street chicken.

Seriously.

I pulled no less than six chicken bones, one pork rib bone, two pieces of bread, something that may or may not have been polenta, and what I believe to have been prehistoric pizza crust from her jaws.  In two days.  And that’s not counting the things I saw before she did and steered her away from.  Still and all, the #LillyNO experience in Nashville contained many more positives.  An ample opportunity for human attention being foremost on her list, as seen here, on the sidewalk in front of a monolithic coffeehouse across the street from Vanderbilt University, awaiting the next person to speak gibberish to her and prove that she is, in fact, kind of a big deal.

As she should be.  She’s worth it.  And fwiw, I promise to do my best to keep the “what was I thinking” moments to a minimum.

At least as far as #LillyNO is concerned.

Peace

 

Posted on

Life With Lilly Episode 2

Not surprisingly, #LillyNO is still trending around here.  Although I must say, she’s not at all a bad puppy.  She is without doubt a puppy though, and prone to doing the things puppies are wont to do.  But I think, of the two of us, I’m the one more in need of training.  That, however, has been put on hold.

Two weeks ago I noticed she was limping, favoring her front left leg.  It wasn’t too bad so I thought just keeping an eye on it was the best course of action.  The next morning the limp was more pronounced so I scheduled an appointment at the Vet for later that day.  X-ray’s were negative, but the Vet suggested, and I agreed, a consult with an orthopedic specialist was prudent.  Quick side note; in her first week here she went from fifteen lbs. to twenty lbs.  Inside wide-eyed emoji anywhere you like…  So, earlier this week we drove up to Greensboro for our appointment.  Now, about four days after the limp started, it stopped.  Just as quickly too, it wasn’t a gradual thing, more like flipping a switch.  That the limp resolved (three days) before the ortho appointment had no effect on my decision to take her there.  I wanted to know if it was a thing or just a random puppy mishap.  And I tended to think it was a thing.  The whole time she limped, she wanted nothing to do with play.  She’d go outside to do her business and then go right back to the door so she could go back inside and lay down.  Or is it lie down?  Either way, getting horizontal was her only goal.  But once the limping stopped, she was back to full on puppiness; bouncing off walls, chasing toys, her tail, shadows, air, you name it and she chased it.  Interspersed, of course, with totally vegging out, often mid-chase.

The ortho Vet examined her, and the X-ray from our regular Vet, and said she thought it was a soft-tissue injury eg. sprain/strain.  She did say, however, that due to potential mechanism of injury, there was a possibility of damage to the growth plate in her left “wrist” and that it needed to be monitored.  She recommended a restriction of activity (uh-huh) for another two weeks and a followup exam and X-ray in one month to see if there were any differences in her growth plate.

So there’s that.

We’ve tried to take daily walks around the downtown area, for socialization with strangers more so than for the exercise, and she seems genuinely disappointed when people choose to ignore her.  I’m more surprised than disappointed.  I mean, I know not everyone loves dogs, but look at this face?  How can you look at that and not want to give her a good ear scratch or belly rub?  Or both?  But she carries on, undaunted by the refusals of crabby people, seeking the next friendly human to shower her with attention, because, god knows, she doesn’t get any around here…

That picture, while adorable, also points to one of her puppy bad habits that we’re working on.  Namely inappropriate chewing.  The leash she is very sweetly holding in the photo, is now in two pieces.  Yup.  One night while we were sitting in the carport, watching a storm.  Lilly was laying (or is it lying?) sweetly on the door mat.  Or so I thought.  She was, of course, on her leash.  I held the other end in my hand so she wouldn’t wander off.  At one point, she got up and walked over to a rug about three feet away.  And I thought to myself “huh.  The leash never moved…”  Looking down, I saw why.  She had chewed through it.  I was not pleased.  The leash had been Sophie’s, so there was that aspect of it.  But more that I had let my guard down.  Puppy gonna puppy, ya know?  It’s on me to prevent stuff from happening and not her.  So I lost a teachable moment.

And a memento of a great dog.

Don’t get me wrong, Lilly is a great puppy in her own right.  I have to admit though, it’s hard not to try to make comparisons between Lilly and Sophie.  They share many similar traits, yet are also completely different.  And both have a firm grasp on my heart.    I’ll never understand how some people can abuse animals.  This puppy unconditionally loves anyone that showers the slightest bit of attention upon her.  The thought of someone consciously turning their back on such a devoted creature and crushing it’s very soul sickens me.

Well, that took a turn…

This post has taken a lot longer to write than the last one.  A certain puppy keeps “yelling” at me until I get on the floor and play with her.  So we play.  She’s currently terrorizing one of her squeaky toys.  And, intermittently attempting to assault my Crocs…

Ahhh puppies.

Peace

Posted on

Life With Lilly Episode 1

This may take a while to produce.  If you haven’t kept up with the latest news on the dog front (and, really?  Why not?) let me explain… no, there is too much… let me sum up…

I got a puppy last week, Lilly, a four month-old Lab mix.

***Cuteness alert***

So, as it turns out, while I knew puppies required a lot of patience, since it’s been thirteen years between puppies I had forgotten just HOW MUCH patience.  In one short week  I’m afraid Lilly now believes her name to be LillyNO.  And I’m not even joking…

Well, maybe a little.  But I think I’m still going to turn that into a hashtag.  #LillyNo has a nice ring to it, right?

And don’t get me wrong, she’s worth it, I mean look at that face for chrissakes.  She is absolutely adorable.  And pretty smart too.  We’re doing really well with potty training; she’s had three accidents in the house to date, all due to my inattentiveness rather than her inability to learn.  We work on “sit” while on our walks and I’ve reached out to a local training facility for regular, real lessons.  But there’s still much for both of us to learn.

For example, I’d really like her to learn that the metal patio chairs in the carport are not, in fact, edible.  She seems to belive they are.  When I correct her, she immediately switches from gnawing on the chair leg to licking it, something I believe to be the canine equivalent to a young child saying “I’m not touching you” while holding an outstretched finger millimeters from it’s intended sibling target.

She’s becoming quite good at verbalizing when I fail to pay ample attention to her as well.  Just this morning I got barked at two different times while trying to read the morning news online.  One bark, followed by a whine in my general direction, and a playful pose, and she’s got me on the floor with her while she chews whatever she can reach, whether appropriate or not.

We’re doing pretty well at socializing too.  She loves meeting people on our walks and prances up to them full of glee.  She’s not quite sure (tbh I’m not either) what to make of people who aren’t thrilled to meet her, but they do exist. Who doesn’t love an adorable puppy?  I don’t think I want to know the adult that doesn’t speak some kind of treacly gibberish when they meet a puppy though, so I guess it’s a good way to weed out those sociopaths.

Also?  Treacly Gibberish sounds like a great name for a British boy band, don’t you think?

Oh, here’s a side benefit.  Lilly loves to eat bugs.  This is huge around here.  Apparently the climate that brought me to this area is also popular with the insect population.  I’ve seen bugs down here that I’ve never seen before.  I’m not even joking about that either.  Most have been harmless; except for mosquitoes, of course, and the occasional ill-tempered yellow jacket.  The bugs and I have an arrangement.  Stay out of my personal space and I might not squish you.  It should be noted however, my personal space is roughly 75 yards in any direction when bugs are concerned.  Also, every time I step on one (with great alacrity I might add), I look around, half-expecting to see Edgar from Men in Black glaring at me.

“Oh.  Was that your auntie?  Then this must be your uncle.”  *Crunch*

Sorry, I got distracted there by my bug obsession.  Fwiw, I’m bringing in professional help.  With the bugs, not me.  Some ships have sailed, you know what I mean?  I’ve tried the peppermint oil treatment (courtesy of PhojoMama™) but it’s time to go nuclear on their little creepy-crawly asses.  It’s not sadistic if we’re talking about bugs, right?

Btw, this has gone much smoother than I anticipated, “someone” chose this time to nap and, timing being everything, I’ve been able to work on this uninterrupted.  In all reality, there’s probably not a significant difference in quality, but it’s a little easier to stay in the flow without having to walk away from the keyboard every couple of minutes to check on the whereabouts of a certain inquisitive puppy.  Of course the trade-off is that she’s likely building up energy reserves for a full-on assault of my sanity this afternoon.  We may have a trip to Petsmart in our future.  Just sayin’  Especially if the rain that’s forecast comes in.  Fortunately Miss Lilly loves car rides.  I bought a smaller crate for her use on road trips and she’s taken to it readily.  She can’t quite jump up and in on her own yet, although she’s getting close.  But she lays (lies?) right down on her car bed and curls up without a peep.  She’ll be making the birthday road trip home with me next month so we’ll see how she does.  I’m already planning on making it a two-day trip both ways.  So far she’s handled up to two hours with no issue, but I don’t want to press my luck with a marathon car trip for her, at least not at this age.

She’s still passed out, so I think I’m going to wrap this up and try to accomplish some kind of domestic task that I’ve put off.  Pretty sure there’s laundry in the dryer waiting for someone to fold and I’m just the guy to do it.

Peace

Posted on

Meet Lilly

Well, here we are.  I’ve been away from my keyboard for a ridiculously long time.  I’m not sure why, it’s not like I haven’t had ample fodder for a post here.  Some of them have been bouncing around my head, some have even made it to draft form, but no posts.  Today, however, I’ve got something for you.

I’ve got something for me too.

If you’ve been reading along for the last year or so (You HAVE been reading longer, right?) you may remember I had to put Sophie down last fall (pour one out to a great dog) and if you’ve ever had a pet, you know how traumatic that can be.  I told myself I’d get a puppy after I came out to central NC, it would give me something to do while I got acclimated to my new environs.  I started searching PetFinder.com daily, looking for a Lab or a Lab mix.  I found several that I liked, even went to see a couple, but, when the time came to do something, the something I chose to do was… nothing.  I just couldn’t finalize the puppy situation.  I made rationalizations all over the place; too much travel, haven’t puppy-proofed the house, that one’s too small, that one’s too, well, you get the picture.  I had a hundred reasons why.

But then I realized, and may have even mentioned it here; it wasn’t that I missed having a dog.  I missed Sophie.  And I knew it would be a disservice to any puppy I might bring in until I got that through my system.   I continued checking the website (I knew I wanted a rescue versus buying from a breeder, so…) and I pondered life without a dog.  I have to say, parts of that life are kinda nice.  No pet hair to vacuum, no cutting plans short to feed, let out, whatever, the dog, no wondering who to watch the dog for out-of-town stuff, etc.

Something just occured to me, I’ve been building to this “moment” as I’m writing and, since when I post these links to social media it always includes an image from the post and, well, the title is kind of a give-away so…  about a week ago I saw this face-

And I knew I was smitten.  I mean how cute is that? I watched her and her sister daily, wondering each morning if I’d flip to the page and see that she was off the list.  I mean, it would have been good for her, she would have found her new family, but not so much for me.  Although I really did carry an “if it’s meant to be, it will be” attitude throughout.  Further research found that this particular shelter holds events every Saturday at their local Tractor Supply store.  The fact that it was two hours away wasn’t a deterrent as far as I was concerned.

Saturday morning I found myself wrestling with my decision; do I go?  Do I pass?

I went.  It was time.

She was very shy, in a kennel with three other dogs, including her brother.  Mom is a Chocolate Lab and Dad is apparently a Hound.  In more ways than one…  Her name was “Pumpernickel” because it seems when shelters get litters in, it’s easier to name them from a theme of sorts and this litters theme was bread.  I don’t know why.  However, despite an adorable audio clip of an almost three year-old Little Diamond saying “Pumpernickel” I had decided last fall that my next dog would be named “Lilly” and so that was that.  I filled out the form and was told she’d be put on hold until they could check a reference on me with my vet in Illinois on Monday.

I passed.

So, last night I drove two hours each way to bring Lilly to her new home.  She did great last night, only one accident in the house and that was my fault.  she was sniffing around and since she had just gone out a little before that, I asssumed she was just sniffing for the sake of sniffing.  LOL.  As I write this, she’s on the floor at my feet, chewing away on one of the toys I bought for her.

She slept through the night last night without incident (don’t ask where…)(but her $50 crate with the $30 bed were not involved) and ate her breakfast like a champ.  I probably need to boost the portion a little bit, but I’m being overly cautious with that since Sophie had a bit of a weight problem and I’d like to avoid that with Lilly.  I’ve got an appointment with a local vet for her tomorrow for a checkup and whatever else she needs.  Including any puppy classes they can recommend.  I’ll be out and about socializing her as much as I can, I believe that’s important for puppies (people too) so I’d like to work on that every day with her in various situations.  She’s a very sweet, very playful pup and she’s starting to take to her new name, I think.  That will take some time, as I expect will potty training too.  Such is life with a little one.

Be prepared for an onslaught of cute puppy pics… I know, I know; low hanging fruit, right?  She is, as the kids say, adorbs and I’m fairly certain will be more than a little spoiled (see sleeping arrangements above).

I’d write more, but right now there’s a belly that’s calling out to be rubbed.  And who am I to say no?  Well, to belly rubs, at least.  I have a feeling that there is going to be a lot of “No” being heard around here for a while.  #PuppyLife #WeAreBothLearning #HereGoesNothing #WishMeLuck

Peace

Posted on

And So, We Give Thanks

Sometimes you have to strike while the iron is hot.  I just had this text conversation with my friend, my go to guy for all things southern, the internationally renowned podcaster and the pride of southern Arkansas, Seth.

Seth: “I’ve got a super southern thing to tell you.”

Me: “Oh?”

Seth: “Met a man called Possum whose dog’s name was Ray.  Ray and Possum get paid to search for deer that get shot and can’t be found.”

Me: “Not only did I literally lol, I can’t stop.”

Seth: “True story.”

Me: “That’s amazing.”

As we wheel into the Thanksgiving holiday, there are so many things for which I’m not only thankful, but grateful.  First and foremost; friends and family.  I may be biased, but I think I’ve got the best of each.  And if I don’t tell you that often enough, shame on me.  I wouldn’t be where I am today without you.

Speaking of which, I’m thankful for what I’ve found here in my newly adopted home.  As a new Asheborower (Ashboroian? Asheborogian?  Asheborologist?) I’ve been welcomed in to the neighborhood, at least by the neighbors I’ve met.  And even the ones I haven’t yet met still use all their fingers when they wave at me, so that’s a plus.  And I’ve only gotten honked at once by someone that was less than satisfied by my driving skills.  Also a plus.

I told myself I wouldn’t stoop to “weather shaming” when I’m asked about my new environs.  I’ve slipped a couple times, but really unless someone specifically mentions the weather I’ve held back.  It hasn’t been spectacular, but in all honesty, it’s been pretty nice.  Coolish, a little rain here or there, but certainly nothing like what I’ve heard it’s been like back home.  No snow, really not even what I’d call a hard frost.  So I’m thankful for that too.  Since climate was one of the reasons I chose to relocate.

I’m thankful for my new-found sense of restraint too.  As most of you know, a couple months ago, I had to have Sophie put down *skypoint* and I thought I’d get a puppy after I got down here.  I started watching a site that featured rescue Labs.  I found several I wanted to see, even went and looked at one although three other visits fell through for a variety of reasons.  I planned on going to a puppy adoption event last weekend to check out a bunch of puppies but, as the time to leave came and went, I found myself questioning my motives.  I decided I didn’t really want I puppy right now, rather, I wanted Sophie.  I miss having her around more than I miss having a dog around, if that makes any sense.  I kind of enjoy, for now anyway, the freedom of not having to watch the clock to get back home in time to let the dog out/feed the dog/whatever else  particular need the dog may have.  I  know the time will come when I’m ready.  But, just like the time for me to start saying “y’all” hasn’t arrived yet, neither has the time come for me to take on a puppy.

Lastly, and kind of circling back a bit, I’m thankful the kids and the littles are all coming to visit soon.  The Boy Child and PhoJoMama™ and their brood are coming for Thanksgiving, Oldest One and the Heir for Christmas, and the Quiet Child, Boy Genius and Reigning Princess will help me welcome in the New Year.

So, yes, life in general and retired life in particular are pretty good for yours truly.  I hope each of you can find the things in life for which you’re thankful and celebrate it with the ones you love.  If not, call me.  I’m more than happy to listen.  Because we’re all in this together, like it or not.

I’m still laughing btw…

Peace.

Posted on

Moving On

As I sit here, waiting for the sun to break the horizon, I am not yet “homeless” but I am, in fact, bedless.  I took that apart and boxed it up last night, since the movers are coming today to load up the truck with my stuff so that same stuff can be reunited with me on Thursday after I close on my home.  My retirement home, you might say.  You might, but I won’t.  At least not for a few years yet.  I hope.

On the Funkenwinkel Nuisance Ranking Scale  (That’s a made up term btw so don’t bother GTSing it) I’d rate this experience so far as a solid “it’s not so bad” which is more than “why did I wait this long?” but far less than “WTF was I thinking?”.  I can’t really complain too much about it.  Other than unfortunate timing on the pick up, which will most likely, cause me to miss an evening with some of the guys from the firehouse.  Since I don’t have the power to reroute a moving van, I guess I have to grin and bear it.

One of the things that has really helped buffer the process, and in turn keep the FNRS score low has been a steady stream of music blaring into my ears.  This has helped pass the time while I’ve been crazy busy packing my stuff.  Of course it hasn’t stopped me from occasionally bouncing from room-to-room as I see something sparkly that distracts me from whatever I was packing and sends me spinning off in a different direction packing some other, random household item.  I kind of wish I could watch myself (from a safe distance) while I packed up.  I would have probably had many snarky observations about me and about my organizational skills.

Hint; I have none.

On the plus side; I have made many new friends at the local U-Haul Store…

As the realization that last night was literally the last night I’ll spend in my humble, little apartment, one that has served me so well for the last few years, I naturally look back on one of the best parts.  As realtors like to say; it’s location, location, location.  And it’s not just the proximity to downtown or mass transit.  It’s about the neighborhood.  At least in my case.  The people in this neighborhood are pretty great.  Sophie (pour one out for a great dog) and I met so many of them, and I’ll always have fond memories of them.  Marie, Ken and their boys took Sophie in for me a couple of times when the Boy Child and PhojoMama™ were unable to take her for me.  And they doted on her.  John, from upstairs took care of her, and gave her great care, while I was on shift.  And, for the last couple weeks, Amy and her kids have kind of taken me in and kept me fed.

And entertained.

This is the family I referred to recently, the one whose dogs I help walk.  Amy is an absolute sweetheart and the kids are a trip.  Case in point; I was down there the other evening doing a load of laundry while the kids were doing their homework.  Aviator (not her real name because obvs) was working on her spelling.  As you may have figured out, I’m kind of a word guy.  So I was looking over her shoulder as she worked on it.  One of the assignments was to write a paragraph using five of her vocabulary words.

She wrote it about me. (sniff, sniff)

She not only wrote a funny piece, in addition to her vocabulary words, she managed to incorporate all three of my names.  Joe, Joel, and Joelson.  Yes, I’ve added a new nickname as that’s how the Aviator refers to me.  I’ve got to hand it to her, it made me laugh when she threw that one at me.  She’s a bright kid, they both are, no question, but with this one’s wit, one day she’ll either make a lot of money making people laugh or rule the world.  She may not be the funniest kid I’ve met, but she’s the one photobombing the class picture of funny kids, no doubt.

So, briefly, to Amy, Aviator and to my dog walking partner in crime (DWPC) I can’t thank you all enough for the kindness you’ve shown me.  I so wish we had gotten to know each other sooner.  I promise we’ll stay in touch (as I told my friend Wendy, it’s up here in public now, so the pressure is on me to stick to it!) and I hope your futures hold nothing but wonderfulness.  You’ve got my digits, as the cool kids say (at least they used to.  Do they still?) so reach out any time.  If you come to NC, you’ve always got a place to stay.  You’ve touched my heart at a time when I needed it most and I hope you all (I guess I have to start saying y’all eventually but now is not that time) enjoyed hanging out with me as much as I’ve enjoyed hanging out with you.

Peace

Posted on

Once Again, I’m Walking

Here we are, on a lovely, warm, sunny, fall afternoon in northern Illinois.  And I’m in one of my favorite places to be; a coffeehouse.  Though not long-term really, I’m just here for the latte.  Oh and the WiFi of course.  So what else would I do but write, right?

One of the the adjustments I’ve had to make since I had to have Sophie put down (pour one out to a great dog) was that I essentially quit walking around the neighborhood.  And that was purely my choice.  It felt completely foreign to me, the thought of walking around a neighborhood where, in all seriousness, more people knew Sophie’s name than mine.  I say that matter-of-factly too.  It’s far easier and much less awkward for someone to walk up to a stranger and say “what’s your dog’s name?” than it is to ask that question of the person walking said dog.

And so, a lot of the people we’d met over the course of the last three years haven’t heard of Sophie’s shuffle off this canine coil.   I don’t know if “canine coil” is a thing btw, but I took a little literary license, so…

That kind of bothered me too, since she was quite popular around the hood.  But, as it was easier on me, well, that’s just how it went.

Until a couple weeks ago.

One of my neighbor’s asked me if I’d help her son with his daily walk of their dogs around the neighborhood after he got out of school.  Of course, I said yes.

A.) they’re excellent people

B.) I’m happy to help (usually)

C.) I figured it would be a good way for me to get over a mild case of mopery.

And so, these two knuckleheads became a semi-regular part of my routine-

     

Oscar and Chalupa are my new walk buddies, along with their human boy child.  We have a lovely walk in the afternoon and typically discuss human boy child things.  Not Oscar and Chalupa btw, the human boy child and I.  Just to clarify.  And I have to say I have enjoyed this time immensely.  Even though I was a little rusty on the whole “leash” thing, since Soph hasn’t used one in years, and even before that, when she had a leash on, I typically let it drag behind her rather than hang on to it.  She was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a flight risk.

Brief detour; did you notice anything different yet?  I’ll wait.  Go ahead, take a look around this post.  And think about my last post.

Back to dog-related issues…

So, I’m actually dog sitting these two this weekend while their aforementioned excellent people are out-of-town and I must say it’s been a blast.  I’m not about to start a dog-walking gig or anything like that, but I’ve had fun. Today, for example, as the fellas and I were walking, I had synapses firing ideas back and forth most of the time we were out.  Nothing Pulitzer worthy, but if you’ve ever read my stuff, you knew that already, amirite?  Technically I think the very existence of “amirite” eliminates me from Pulitzer consideration.  At any rate, as we walked I watched the two of them; Chalupa marching along with dogged (see what I did there?) determination, like a sled dog pulling towards the finish line of the Iditarod while Oscar plugs along, his stubby, little, cankles churning like a four-legged centipede, trying to keep up.  They’re quite the couple, these two.  They make me laugh a little and smile a lot.

That’s not to be underrated either.  Especially of late.  Too much stuff happening in our world today that is the antithesis of happy.  And I’m not going to go any deeper into that.  Just yet.

But in the interim, as I said before, I’m in a really good place and I intend to ride this wave as long as I can.  Because we all know how short life can be.

Peace

PS- Because, well, you know… Yes!  I conquered the Word Press beast!  Take that (expletive deleted)!!!

Posted on

Aaaaand I’m still retired.

Well, I have to admit, this has been pretty good so far.  My last day “on the books” was spent north of the Cheddar Curtain at a Ryan Adams concert in Madison and it was just outstanding.  Great concert going experience with excellent people.  And remember kids, live music is always better live.  Also, I highly recommend the venue; Breese Stevens Field, as a place to see live music.  They do it right there.  And I’m actually blasting the setlist through my headphones as I write (brief pause while I crank up the volume) today’s missive (And I wonder why I have hearing loss).

Well.  I was going to insert a lovely picture of the lovely concert here.  Instead after no less than 45 minutes of error messages and a fruitless search of Word Press’s site trying to find some way other than tagging onto someone else’s issues, I decided instead to use this space to launch a scathing, profanity-laced tirade, because, why not?

So, to the (expletive deleted) at (expletive deleted) Word Press; Listen you smug, self-satisfied (expletive deleted), YOU may feel an email is not the proper way to answer someone’s (expletive deleted) question, but I, in fact, feel it’s perfectly (expletive deleted) appropriate sometimes.  I thought your (expletive deleted) site was supposed to be (expletive deleted) user (expletive deleted) friendly.  Friendly?  My (expletive deleted)(expletive deleted)!!!  The main reason I chose to use your piece of (expletive deleted) site was that it was simple to use.  Simple to use.  I got your (expletive deleted) simple to use right (expletive deleted) here.  If your site is so simple to use, why then, if I did (expletive deleted) nothing, NOTHING, different on my end do I suddenly get (expletive deleted) HTTP (expletive deleted) error messages?  Explain that (expletive deleted).  Go ahead (expletive deleted), I’m (expletive deleted) waiting…

Ohhh that feels so much better.  Sometimes you just need to vent, amirite?

Despite some of the recent events (pour one out to a great dog) I’ve been through and some of the normal aggravations dealing with lenders/mortgage people/home inspections/insurance/getting ready to move a thousand miles away, I feel like I’m in a really good place right now.  Maybe the best I’ve been in a long time.  For a variety of reasons, most of which I won’t go into here, but if you know, you know.

So… you know…

Sorry, couldn’t help myself.

Anyway.  Yeah, I’m encountering a hurdle or two along the way, but nothing ridiculous. I think.  Probably nothing the folks that have gone before me haven’t experienced already.

Two cool, unrelated side notes; well only one to go on here, although after checking with the particulars involved I’d really like to put something up here about the other.  I’ll leave one as a teaser… But the one I can comment on now; a few months back, at one of our meetings for the AFFI Labor History Committee, I was asked by Jim Schrepfer (President of the Illinois Association of Retired Firefighters) if I’d like to write a column for the biannual (not biennial, I looked it up to make sure I had it right.  So back off grammar police wannabes) retired guy newsletter (not its real name) and, of course, I was thrilled at the offer.  Jim was happy with the result and I must say I was pretty pleased with the way it turned out too.  Maybe I’ll put it up here in a few months, I just feel like they should get a little exclusivity, you know?

Ok, I’ve frittered away enough of my day with this hot mess, time to find more mischief.

Peace.

Posted on

The Penultimate Shift

I’ve got so many things spinning around my brain, each one a thing I want to try and dive into before I dodder off into retirement.

But then, the weekend happened, and plans, as they often do, changed.

And before I go any further, I need to offer my heartfelt thanks to everyone that reached out to me, whether by text, phone call, or comments; made either on social media, IRL, or in the comments here, for the kind words and thoughts.  There were more than a few that brought tears to my eyes and I’m so truly grateful for each of you.

I was also fortunate that my friend, the internationally known podcaster, Seth Rainwater and his Dad, Rick, drove up from south Arkansas to hang out with me for a few days before I get out of here.  The timing was random, but couldn’t have been more fortuitous, given Sophie’s demise.  We had many laughs the last couple days and Seth rode with us for the first half of the shift yesterday.

Typically, when we have a rider with us, we suffer what is commonly referred to as the “curse of the rider” which means, in a nutshell, we get shut out.  As in, no calls for the day.  Seth, however, shattered that curse.  Two calls back to back right out of the chute at 7:00 AM, were followed by ten more before dinner.  Twelve calls, in the first twelve hours, plus EMS training made for a very busy day, but the timing was really quite good since neither lunch nor dinner was terribly affected.  We finished the shift off by running two after Seth left and two more after midnight, so for my next-to-last shift, sixteen was the not-so-sweet total.  For a little reference, on average, as a department, we run sixteen calls per day.  Yesterday, we busted the curve.  Not that I mind, as I’ve said, I take great pride in working out of the busiest house in town so in my mind, this was a pretty good way to start sliding into home plate.

Of course, if the powers that be decide to pitch a shutout at us on Friday, I’m perfectly fine with that too.

Just sayin’

I have many more things I want to say, and a person or two that I want to say some things about, but today, instead, I think I’d like to focus on my guys.

I’ve been blessed throughout my career, to have worked with some incredibly skilled firefighters and paramedics.  I listed some of those guys a post or two back, and I meant everything I said, but I didn’t mention my current crew, because I knew I wanted to tip my proverbial hat to them here.  In order of seniority- Rob my brand new Lieutenant, is off to a fine start (except for questioning my judgement on whether I can fit the engine through a tight spot, or know the best way to get around MY STILL DISTRICT) fitting in quite nicely to our little family on the fly and that’s not an easy task.  He’s very bright, reads a room well, uses each of our strengths well and gives us enough leash to have a little fun, while keeping us reined in enough to keep out of trouble.  I have no doubt he’ll continue to cultivate these guys to become the best they can be.  Wink is our wounded warrior, he’s been off for several months after a work-related injury.  One of his light-duty assignments was working the reception desk at Village Hall.  He’s quite popular with the ladies that work there.  As we’re fond of telling him, it’s taken him 24 years, but he’s finally found his niche.  TJ is one of the smartest guys I’ve worked with and he’s got a huge heart.  He and his wife do advocacy work for disadvantaged kids and I can’t think of a better way to sing his praises than that.  Bob has a twisted ish sense of humor that helps keep things loose around the firehouse, but to classify him as a joker diminishes his abilities on the job.  Mike is our new guy.  He’s often the butt of our jokes, as a new guy should be, and he accepts our slings and arrows with great humor.  Plus, as I like to tell him when he says something a little odd, he’s so pretty.  To his credit though, he no longer thinks everyone’s first name is Kevin, so learning has occurred.  Collectively we’re a high functioning group, and we’ve established a great bond in our time together.  I don’t, for one second, believe they’ll skip a single beat after the festival to me has finished and I’ve moved on and I’m more than a little disappointed in myself for not having a picture of these guys to post up in here.

I think I’ve mentioned it before, while there will be many things I won’t miss around here, hanging out with my guys is something I’m going to miss greatly for a very long time.  We shared many laughs and many unforgettable moments and those will carry me through for a long time as well.  I truly cherish each and every one of you and I’ll carry the five of you with me for rest of my days.

Mi casa su casa.

And, speaking of casa, it’s time for me to make my way to mine.  Empty, for the first time.  Sigh.

Peace

Posted on

A Boy And His Dog.

I’m gonna tell you a few things right up front…

A.)This one is gonna be wordy and I make no apologies about it.

B.)If you don’t care about pets, particularly dogs, don’t waste your time going any further.

C.)If you do care about pets, grab some kleenex cause Imma rip your heart out.  After all, why should I be the only one to cry while I read this?

I took a journalism class a million years ago in high school.  And one of the things I learned (and if you read this at all you’ll recognize it’s probably the only thing I learned in that class) is that obituaries of famous people are written in advance.  That boggled my 17 year old mind, but it makes perfect sense really.  When famous people die, it’s news.  And, to get that news out for public consumption, the head start of a pre-written obit, sans last minute details, of course, really speeds up the delivery.

To that end, I started working on this post in 2013.  I’ve added to it here or there over the years, as things would come to my mind.  Even deleted a thing or two as situations changed over the years.  I did this all for a very specific reason.  To celebrate the life and to mark the passing of the best dog I’ve ever had the pleasure of spending time with.

“Spending time with” is, btw, a terrible way to describe our lives together.  Since she came into my life in 2005, Sophie and I have been through a lot together.  Diane’s death, Mom’s death, a divorce.  That’s just off the top of my head.  There were many days when getting out of bed was the last thing on Earth I wanted to do.  But I had to, if for no other reason than for Sophie.  She still needed to go out and play fetch or splash in her pool or any number of other dog-related things she so loved doing.  And who was I to deny her due to my own grief?  So I had to keep moving.  Dogs do best when in a routine, you know?  Regular feeding times.  The same activities at the same time every day.   Tobi was a different story, I could just let him outside and he’d occupy himself until he was ready to come back in the house.  But Sophie was still learning, still needed some direction as she grew out of puppyhood.  By doing that for her, that ritual of routine, I was able to, at least in part, maintain some semblance of sanity in my life.  She helped me readjust to life far quicker than I was ready to.  And I don’t think I realized that as it was happening.

Brief confession time…

I’ve never seen “Old Yeller”

I’ve never had any desire to watch a movie where I know one of the main emotional points is the death of a dog.

Also, I started reading “Marley and Me” but had to stop.  Same reason.  Although, truth be told, I started reading it while in the hospital waiting room when Diane was in surgery.  It was (brief review alert) a really well done book, and I was easily able to relate to life with a Yellow Lab puppy.  Although Sophie was never as destructive as Marley was.  And reading it helped take my mind off the matter at hand.  In the evenings, after family and friends left I was able to focus on reading and not dwell on the well-meaning, though often off-the-mark, intentions of Diane’s visitors.  That weekend, as I got further into the book and real life started to spiral down, well, I just wasn’t emotionally ready to finish the book.  Anticipating what was coming in one, and fearing what was coming in the other was starting to rend the flesh from my soul like wolves on an elk they’d taken down on the tundra.

So, how do I celebrate the life of this spectacular beast?

Let’s start here, shall we?  This is Sophie –

It’s the first time I ever saw her.  I know, pictures of puppies are low hanging fruit, but look at that little face.  This is from an early cell phone camera, it was taken at the breeders, before she even came home with us.   I remember the phone call that preceded this picture.  Something along the lines of-

“They’ve got Black Lab puppies and Yellow Lab puppies, which do you prefer?”

After several seconds consideration… “I’m kind of a traditionalist, I think a Black Lab puppy.”

“Ok, well, we’re getting a Yellow Lab puppy.”

Not that I really cared, mind you.  That exchange always made me laugh though.  And, of course twelve years down the road, I wouldn’t trade her for any dog on the planet.

Then there’s this one-

Sophie and her new (then) buddy Beans.  In the old house, that was probably Sophie’s favorite place to lay and watch the world go by.

She is, without question, the sweetest, gentlest (is that a word?) goofiest, smartest dog I’ve ever had the pleasure of being around.  Some people say dogs don’t have a personality, I call shenanigans on that thought.  Sophie has got one and it cracks me up.  She’s got a beautiful Lab face, albeit with some small scars.  Leftovers from the oftmentioned, tyrannical, Jack Russell terrorist (not an autocorrect) named Tobi that ran the animal portion of our house when we brought Sophie home.  They were quite the pair.  She was small enough to run under Tobi for the first month or so, but even though she grew to outweigh him by a factor of at least 5 to 1, she still cowered when he glared at her.

I first realized just how devastating her eventual outcome would be a couple months after Diane died.  Sophie developed a very bad (to put it mildly) case of, what we call in the old country, “the runs”.  Like everywhere, everytime, explosive diarrhea.  Sorry if that’s a tad graphic, but I still shudder at the memory.  So a couple of visits to the vet, after multiple floor scrubbings and carpet cleanings, after every single home remedy provided little or no relief, Sophie had to go in for, essentially, a lower GI.  When the procedure was done, the staff told me I could go in and sit by her while she came out of the anesthetic.  I walked back into the recovery area and saw Sophie, an IV still hooked up to her front leg, lying in a kennel.

She looked like she was stoned.

Until she saw me approach.

She struggled to get up, but, still fighting the sedation, crashed into the side of the kennel.  She tried again to rise, until I opened the door and held her back down, stroking the fur behind her ears while her tail thumped an off-beat time against the floor of the kennel.

I sobbed like a child.

And I’m not ashamed to admit it.

She’s always loved people.   For example, in our old neighborhood, Sophie found great joy watching the spot where kids, one in particular, waited across the street from our house (along with her big sister and Mom) for the school bus that would take her big sister to school every day.  If we went outside while they were there, invariably we’d hear a soft, small voice call out-

“Hi Sophie!”

Sophie loves kids.  Like I said, she loves people.  And despite the occasional tough girl act (it makes me laugh whenever I hear her growl), she will usually try to sneak over to see neighbors.

And by “sneak” I mean everything from flat out gallop to wandering “aimlessly”, peeking back at me over her shoulder, “nothing to see here”, “pay no attention to the dog behind the curtain”, “you can’t see me” nonchalant, inch-by-inch way she moves to the boundaries of our yard.

I mean, seriously… look at that face.  That face would NEVER do anything like wander over to see the neighbors, would it?

Our neighbors in Wondertucky (not the town’s real name, btw) were held (although it does fit) in an especially (like a glove) high regard by the Blonde dog.  She regularly escaped the horrific conditions under which she lived at my house *snark* to go visit them any time she was outside and saw one of them.  Typically it would start with her tail keeping allegretto time like a maestro, feverishly thrashing the air until she was acknowledged.  But if that didn’t work, a bark, higher pitched than her normal, kind of a “Hey! Here I am! Why aren’t you paying attention to me?” bark, that would be answered by Krista or Wes with a “Hi Sophie” followed immediately by a burst of dog energy propelling her across the empty lot between our houses in world record time.

And it’s almost the same thing in our current neighborhood.  With arthritis in both hips and synthetic ligaments in both knees, she doesn’t really tolerate long walks.  So we walk several times a day.  And she has caused me to meet so many of our neighbors it’s not even funny.  In fact, more people around here know her name than mine.

I’ve noticed small changes in her the last year or so.  Gradual changes.  From more inconsistent eating habits to an increasing limp in a couple of her legs.  Occasionally she’ll stumble, tripping over some unseen obstacle.  I spent some time out of town last spring.  And, while I was gone, the Boy Child and his family took Sophie in for me.  And, from the texts, pictures and videos I saw while I was gone, I’d say everybody enjoyed the arrangement. Witness my little Diamond with her bestie-

But when I got Sophie back home after the trip, the changes seemed more pronounced.  More limping, less eating.  And, markedly, a reluctance to go for a walk.  These short walks have been a staple of our life for the last three years or so.  When she balked at going for a walk, stopping short about 75 feet from our yard and wanting nothing to do with moving forward, it worried me.

She was due for her annual checkup anyway, so I called her vet and got an appointment earlier than I’d planned.  He listened to my description, suggested an added medicine to ease some of her discomfort and, like last year, ran a blood test to check her overall well-being.  He called the next afternoon to give me the results.  When he told me her liver enzymes were high, as high as 6 times the normal level, and high on numerous values, my heart sank.  It could be something minor, treated with more medication.  It could be tumors in or on her liver.  He recommended an ultrasound and a more in-depth fasting blood test.  The tests proved inconclusive although we did find out she had contracted Lyme Disease.  Treated with an 8 week course of antibiotics but no changes came.  Her spirit, as always, was strong.  But her body was weak.  And as time passed it became weaker and weaker.

It became common for one or two of our daily walks to last no more than the neighbors front yard.  She’d lay there and watch the world go by for ten minutes or so, then struggle to get to her feet and head back home.  She’d have good days, where we’d get three decent walks in and she’d have bad days, where she showed little interest in her food and even less in going for walks.

This last week was pretty good actually.  We’d gotten several good walks in, and she saw many of her neighborhood friends.  As I said before, more people in the neighborhood know Sophie, than know me.  But it’s true.  Our walks often take us past the public library in town.  I feel safe in saying at least 50-60% of the employees know her by name.  They’ll come up to her and make a big fuss over her, Sophie soaking it all in, but not a single one knows my name.  I’m fine with that, by the way.  I’m perfectly content to be the guy that walks Sophie.

So, when I got the call last night, at work, in the middle of a block party no less, from the guy that takes care of Sophie when I’m at work, I took it.  He was so distraught he couldn’t even speak.  All I got from him was “Sophie’s ok” and it took him two tries to get that out.  His wife got on the phone and explained to me that Sophie wouldn’t get up to go outside.  For the better part of the day.  They’d tried several times to no avail.  Deb cleaned her up, and cleaned up the accidents Sophie had left in the house, but she didn’t know what to do.

By the time we got back to quarters it was after 8:00 and I got a text update on Sophie.  I called one of the guys that works today, explained the situation to him and asked if he could come in early for me.  He asked if 5:00 AM was good and I told him it was.  We hung up and I got a text from him to the effect of “I’m coming in now.  Go home, take care of Sophie” I thanked him several times (not enough, I’m sure) and was home by 11:00 last night.

As I write this, now Sunday morning, she still hasn’t gotten up.  I’ve tried coaxing her with leftover yogurt, a favorite thing of hers, but she hasn’t done it yet.  The closest she got was when I walked in last night.  She made one attempt but quickly laid back down.  Instead I got the familiar tail thumps on the floor.

I’ve got the Weather Channel on, for background noise as much as to watch what Irma does to Florida and I can’t help thinking about perspective.  I’m sobbing over a dog while actual humans are losing everything they own and in some cases, their lives.  And it’s not that I don’t care, but, I don’t care.

I also think of all the times I’ve cried with Sophie.  Burying my face in the comfort of her fur as I try to understand the “why” I’ve lost the ones I love.

This time, the tears are for Sophie.

Peace

PS-

If Disney is the happiest place on earth, this is it’s polar opposite.  I pull into the parking lot and see a guy in camo on the verge of tears.  Me too pal.  And as I walk in to check Sophie in and get help getting her out of the car I meet two people walking out, tears streaming down their faces.

My mind races as I get ushered in to the exam room.  The tech tells me the doctor will be in to talk to me.  Is it me or is she being dispassionate?  I mean, I get it.  I’ve seen the look she has on her face before, not making eye contact, looking around me instead of at me.  Heck I’ve made that face before.  She bears news she isn’t prepared to tell, to someone that may not be prepared to hear.  Every bark that comes from the back; is that her?  But no, none of them were.  I  know every bark she makes and those weren’t any of hers.

The doctor comes in with a similar look.  It’s not the one I wanted to see, but it’s, quite frankly, the look I expected to see.  He tells me Sophie is in a lot of pain.  So, the decision, though it’s one I never wanted to make, is one I knew I would probably have to make at some point.

This is that point.

It’s time.

That, for what it’s worth, may be the hardest thing I’ve ever written.

Again, Peace