When I was a senior in high school I quit all school activities. I quit the band, I quit theater, I was over it all and just wanted out. I was finished with high school, with adolescence, with my home town, and just wanted to move on. I wanted out of Salina, I wanted out of the house. I wanted to go to college, feel independent, get on with my life. I did not have a bad childhood at all, I was very lucky in many ways, but I was over it and was ready to move on. I was anxious.
I feel much the same way now, mixed with a level of panic and anxiety, not about moving to France, but about getting everything done around here, and especially about the house. The time is getting perilously short, barely a month and a half, but there is still much to do. Much like my move from my hometown to my college town some 49 (?!) years ago, it's not that I've been unhappy here, it's just that I'm ready to move on and I want to get on with it.
Hired someone to remove the ivy from the house, that job will be finished tomorrow but it's just the start of what needs to be done. Sold a bunch more stuff to someone off Marketplace, and it's likely that he'll buy more. Scattered TJ's ashes on a twilight walk with Bailey. I hit the road tomorrow morning for a quick trip to Kansas and back.
Our walk was during the bunny hour, just before sunset.
I'm not done making memories with dogs, not by a longshot. But right now I'm reliving many old memories of dogs I've owned, fostered, and loved, as I scatter their remains in places that seem special in some way. Thus it was today as I scattered the ashes of our beloved Gigi in the pasture where I loved seeing her romp through the yellow buttercups of early spring.
With foster Felix
I know I've shared these pictures many times, but I will never tire of seeing them.
Yesterday evening I combined the cremains of the Great Triumvirate of Gypsy, Cabell, and Bremo and scattered them out in the pasture as Bailey and Woody ran around. We had Gypsy when we moved here 25 years ago and adopted Cabell shortly thereafter. Cabell was still a puppy when we adopted him and he was the only dog who could ever get the very serious minded Gypsy to engage in play. Bremo was the puppy known as Fuzzy Bear from Maggie's litter of puppies, Maggie being our first foster dog. Those three formed the core of our group of dogs for quite a few years.
Today I took Bailey on a hike at Pleasant Grove. We parked near the pole barn and went straight down the hill, across the creek and up to the area known as Burke Heights, which overlooks the Rivanna river. I walked off the trail to what seemed to be the highest point around and there I scattered the combined remains of Della and Serena. I tied Bailey's leash to a tree while I walked around and she surprised me a bit by just laying calmly and watching until I was finished and then we went on our way.
We saw this small turtle on the trail.
That's an earthworm right in front of him.
I'm not sure he was about the eat the worm or not.
Waiting patiently while I said goodbye to Della and Serena.
This evening after a really strong storm had passed, I went outside and scattered the cremains of our first rottweiler, Jack, around a pear tree that he was particularly fond of when it was producing fruit. We never ate the pears from the tree although they were quite plentiful some years. Jack would go over to the tree and jump up to grab a piece of low hanging fruit. The pears were always too hard for our taste but Jack seemed to enjoy chewing on them. When he could no longer reach them, he got Vito to jump up and grab a branch for him. Bremo took it up in later years after Jack was gone but few other dogs ever showed any interest in them. I guess it's a rottweiler thing. Along with Jack, I dispersed the ashes of our cat, Eleanor, because Jack liked her and who wouldn't want to spend eternity with a rottweiler?
I've been doing a lot of this lately and I'm actually down to just four more. It has brought back pleasant memories of all the dogs we've had over the past 25 years in this house. There's always something you miss about a dog who has died. Their presence, obviously, but often it's a little quirk, something that no other dog had or did, something that made them unique, even if it wasn't something pleasant. The same is true of foster dogs too, if they are around long enough to burrow their way into your heart. Here's just a few that come to mind:
Going outside at night before bed to track down Trooper who had gone out a half hour earlier and was wandering around the yard.
Sparky's jump for joy, a Tigger-like vertical jump with all four feet off the ground and a half twist, ready to be my personal trainer and take me out on the trails for a fast-paced hike.
TJ's infectious smile that looked totally innocent but hid a scheme he was hatching in his husky brain.
Cabell's smile, that face he made while baring his teeth that might have been mistaken for something malevolent if was coming from any dog other than Cabell.
Bremo's sweet and pure innocence, unable to conceive that he could possibly have done anything wrong.
Vince's work ethic, always "on", always on patrol, always ready for whatever was happening, and always prepared to take on anything even if it greatly exceeded his size, strength, and ability.
Gypsy's absolute, steadfast devotion to me, right or wrong, that dog was my dog and stood by me. Gypsy always had my back.
I wrote a Thanksgiving post in 2015 with pictures and thoughts on many of our pack up to that time. It was nice reading it again just now: Thanks be unto Dog.
I listen to music as I walk and so often it seems that the perfect song comes along at just the right moment. And so it was today as I was ending the walk with Bailey after scattering Della and Serena. The final song on the playlist was "Sam" by Sturgill Simpson. It's a very short song but it makes me cry every time I hear it. Today was no exception.
I've heard people say that they were busier after retirement than when they were working, and that seems to be proving true. Of course, that's probably due mostly to the impending move, now less than two months away. But I still make time for the dogs, although not as much as they would like. Fortunately Bailey and Woody are very good at entertaining each other during the day when I'm busy with other stuff.
Bailey sharing my fries at Patch last weekend.
Bailey and Woody wrestling in the kitchen.
Bailey posing on a rock on a recent hike.
Alerting on a squirrel, or maybe this was the baby fawn we spotted.
Bailey and Woody run and play when they are outside together but I'm never able to get it on video because they stop the moment that I come outside. Apparently whatever I might be doing is more interesting or more important to them. But I am able to catch them playing indoors when I'm in the kitchen, see video clips below.
I have nothing more fitting for pride month than to once again share the pictures of Della in her proudest outfit.
This was from two years ago, but just one year ago Della shared her Pride celebration with first daughter Maze.
Things are busy around here trying to get ourselves in gear and on schedule. I had the six week follow up with the orthopedist today and he said that I was exactly where I was expected to be in terms of recovery. The more serious, strength re-building, physical therapy begins tomorrow.
The reason for the season:
As always, fuck you to any trumper who happens to read this, generously assuming that at least some of them can read.
I haven't posted anything since Saturday. There's been a lot going on but nothing particularly blog worthy. Marvel went back home on Monday and she was very, very happy to see her owner once again. Woody is still with us but he's on a two day sleepover with another foster home, the folks who adopted SweetTart (now called Betty White) from us back in February. He's reportedly getting along well there and is learning manners from Miss White. That's exactly what he needs.
On Saturday I took a load of crates and other dog stuff to a new rescue group in Greene County called Rad Ranch Rescue. It's amazing how much of that stuff I've accumulated over the years. They seemed glad to have it.
Bailey had some new adventures on Sunday, including a visit to a flea market, a brewery, and a stop to visit Clay's mother at The Colonnades, which included an elevator ride and a large stuffed kangaroo.
"Stuff" continues to move out of our house, via eBay and Facebook Marketplace, and today Clay took a load of stuff to Circa in Charlottesville. My physical therapy continues apace; next week will be six weeks since the surgery and I can officially give up wearing the sling.
Rainy days have been a drag. Yesterday Bailey and I needed to get out so we went up to Pleasant Grove and did the two mile walk on the road. Today we did a couple of short walks out to the pasture where I scattered the ashes of five more dogs, including Max and Theo. I combined their cremains and scattered them together in a walk down the hill where they ran countless times as I threw the ball for Theo. Theo pursued the ball and always got it, Max would just run with Theo. It was an easy way to give those boys a good run and, I thought, a fitting place for their remains. Both Theo and Max had many good runs out there and they had a good run at life here I think. Bailey had a good run out there today as well.
We've sold and gotten rid of a lot of stuff. The house is beginning to look a little bit empty, at least in parts. A lot of my garden stuff moved out in the past week so it can beautify others' homes this year. We received our one year renewable visas from the French embassy and have booked airline tickets. I'm able to manipulate the zero turn mower now so I'm not completely useless. One of the last hard tasks we had was going through boxes of photo albums and we got a good start on that today. Bailey and Jan and I went on another 2.5 mile hike on Friday and scattered the cremains of four more dogs. I'm not fooling myself, we still have a long way to go and a relatively short time to get there, but we are making progress.
But perhaps the best news is that Woody had a successful meet and greet with prospective fosters/adopters on Friday. They loved him and I told them everything I could about him with zero sugar coating. What makes me think that this is the best chance he's had is the fact that these folks are fosters themselves, with another organization, so they have experience settling a new dog. They also understand that they aren't buying a dog that comes with some sort of warranty, they are rescuing a dog that comes "as is" and who will become the dog they make of him. That's a very different mindset. They have no other dogs at the moment, which is sort of both good and bad, but mostly good I think, and they have a fenced yard where they can put him when they need a break. We are looking to make the move sometime in the second week of June. In the meantime, Woody will go on another overnight visit to another foster home sometime next week just for the experience.
Oh, and Marvel is back with us for the weekend while her family is away. She is as lovely as ever.
Sparky's watering hole is a deep spot in a stream that crosses a trail we hike.
Sparky loved to jump in and cool off here even on days that weren't exactly hot.
Bailey napping after Friday's hike.
Marvel and Maya getting re-acquainted.
This is all the remains of my "free to a good home" pots.
If you want any, please contact me and come and get them.
Bailey and Woody going out to the pasture as I was mowing.
Marvel can be distinguished from Woody even at a distance by her bushy tail.
This is a blog about my life, which largely revolves around a dog rescue operation. I write mostly, but not exclusively, about dogs. I am gay, with a very understanding partner (now husband!); Democrat; liberal; Kansas native and a current resident of "real" Virginia. My husband and I live on 7 rural acres near Charlottesville, Virginia. We have multiple large dogs of our own, and we have fostered large breed dogs for several different rescue organizations. German Shepherd Dogs, Great Danes, and Rottweilers are among our favorites, but we love most large breed dogs and mutts. ALL VIEWS EXPRESSED HEREIN ARE MY OWN.
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