She probably thinks I don’t want to go with her today but I do. I always do.
Put me near water or mud and I’m a happy pup: the messier, the splashier, the better dontcha know?
When my paddler goes off without me my heart just sinks like I’m GONNA DIE . . .
Until the ground rumbles, that big door opens, and here she comes in that littlier door just to see meeeeeee!
I try to be good but I just can’t help myself sometimes.
Things need to be chewed, mailmen scared off (especially that one in shorts dressed in BROWN), and anything soft smooshed with the seat of my furry bum.
Don’t get me wrong, I know I have it good and all that.
“But why can’t I go with you like all the time?” say my big brown-n-black eyes.
“Or give me a bite of that hamburger that smells so good?”
You big people just aren’t as nice as those little people like me who drop crumbs all the time. Yum! Yum!
I’ll wait for you here, I’ll wait for you there, I’ll wait for you anywhere.
‘Cause you are just the best, scratch my ears some more, and give me one of those crunchy things in that bag you just opened, k?
You think I don’t know what you are up to but I do . . . I watch you all the time and it’s not even weird.
Just bring me with you in the car, on the boat, in the tractor, or maybe for a ride!
Thank you for being my bestie. Sniff, sniff. I love you more,
Your dog
Pictures are from the 2017 United States Canoe Association Nationals in Dubuque, Iowa except Gary and his German shepherd in the kayak. Paddlers love their dogs!
This trip was much like any other in terms of the massive preparation it takes to go camping! There is always lots of kayak paddling gear to gather, packing, meal preparation for 2 distinct dietary requirements, mega supplements and meds to pop into pill boxes, “just in case” remedies to pack, and so on. The miles go quickly as we travel most of the day and into the night, with destinations generally east of the Mississippi. I’m especially grateful for the opportunity to catch up on the little things with my beloved Steve as he drives us along since it’s crazy busy getting everything else done before we leave! Add the last minute deliveries of my hubby’s side business as a Stellar Kayak rep and you will see how we usually get about 4 hours of sleep beforehand but alas, I’ll let him tell that story!
Our German shepherd got sick after taking herself for a swim in Lake Michigan when delivering a kayak on our way home. Two vent covers on the Camplite either blew off or severely cracked, respectively, on our way from Indiana to Wisconsin requiring a series of duct tape-style repairs. The placement of water and electrical outlets on opposite sides of the campsite required a creative workaround in the dark when we arrived at our destination. Sweltering heat and humidity nearly wilted me into a pile of mush until we found shade underneath the belly of a DC3 (airplane) on display along the air strip at the EAA AirAdventure. In addition, my usual pattern of nightly/morning convulsive spells continued every night and morning yet were no worse considering the increased activity level and exposures related to all of our activities. Two friends flaked on meeting us for dinner during our stay. Bummer dude.
But wait. There’s more! We ran out of propane and overflowed our gray water tank at the 2-day mark. A mysterious water spot left us sleeping on the bare mattress cover our last night that might be condensation outsmarting the air conditioner + dehumidifier combination we employed. And lastly, the rain chased us home a day early, allowing us to deliver the aforementioned kayak for Steve’s customer who was unable to catch a flight to meet us to pick it up. That became the reason for a 2-hour side trip to Door County from Oshkosh and the fateful swim for our pup, Elle. But hey, the landscaped gardens of their lake home were better than the magazine photos I had brought with me to pass the time . . .
Enjoying cool shade under a DC3
So when you decide to take up camping you also decide to take up flying by the seat of your pants! Little goes as planned! We have come to expect always arriving later than expected to our destinations, spending more on gasoline than meals/souvenirs/camping reservations, and getting out the tools or duct tape at some point before returning home. If you ask me, it makes the trip more fun! I’ll take the crazy stuff of life on the road any day to the ravages of battling a serious illness and am grateful that I get to do so with my River Bear in the Tin Can Ranch a few times each year. Now that the 9 loads of laundry are done, I just have to clean the CampLite. Soon I’ll be ready to pop the question again like the old Microsoft commercials use to say,
Where do you want to go today?
Maybe one day I’ll meet you on the road Gentle Reader. Please bring your own duct tape, just in case! JJ
I only had a few minutes to run to the mailbox before my friend would arrive to take me to the hospital this afternoon. Elle loves to “get the mail,” so I summoned her and we were out the door on this sort of warm, Spring day. The junk mail in that box got me outside! I would be indoors for most of the afternoon and evening with treatment and waiting on my ride home. Thank you Lord for this wiff of fresh air!
Wiff indeed. Or is that woof? With the envelopes and flyers still in my hands, I turned around to see Elle in what you might call the “pointer” pose of a hunting dog. She is a German shepherd yet I know that pose means that something is awry. Her head dropped as her eyes fixed on her prize: a bunny? a squirrel? Nope. A puff ball! Elle had spotted a light brown-and-black ball of fur no larger than a 16″ softball sauntering toward our driveway! That little renegade was out for a stroll, strutting like she was the queen of the court! Elle waited for my command to advance for the customary sniffs and shoves of yet another potential playmate. But hey, I would have to leave in another few minutes and there was no one else . . .
Just then my friend, Jane, drove up in her mini van. I had scooped the ball o’ fur into my arms and was trying to figure out what to do. Jane immediately jumped out onto the driveway ready for action. She has 2 Pomeranians and LOVES little dogs! I placed Rene into the bed of my truck for a moment (still filled with soft pieces of sod from a late night gardening project 2 weeks ago!) while I ran into the house to get my phone. I would need to notify our housing addition in hopes of a quick reply from her rightful owner. Unfortunately, no such luck bequeathed us this day . . .
Jane and I figured out a plan to place Rene in a garden pen in my backyard until I could return home in a few hours. The Yorkie would have a towel-bed, bowl of water, and plenty of room to roam around surely before the rains came, right? Yes, no worries! The only problem was that our hopes that the owner would come forth never materialized. I hung tight to my phone during my afternoon treatment and the only person who responded to my post on our Association’s Facebook page was the owner of another Yorkie. Katie could keep our little Rene overnight and take her to the vet tomorrow during her own dog’s vet appointment to check for a chip ID. And so that’s what we decided to do.
Later that night I heard that Rene was adjusting well with her new roommates with a belly full of Yorkie foodstuffs. No one came forth on behalf of the old gal even from my post on the adjacent housing addition’s Facebook page. Oh dear. I guess Jane, Katie, and I will figure out what to do by tomorrow afternoon.
In the meantime, Steve and I had a great laugh. Neither of us are “little dog” people. That puff ball huffed and puffed, snorted and sneezed almost continuously! Jane said that she was probably the pet of an older person who fed her too much, causing all of the wheezing sounds. Good golly! Her fur was mottled, eyes caked with gunk, and body odor suggestive of the risk of nervous piddling (which are exactly the things that are yucky to me about little dogs!) Steve joked about Rene making a great snack for Elle. Whaaat? Rene was quite fat and would add too much cholesterol to Elle’s diet, he conceded. So maybe not. Oh my!
It’s a good thing that Steve wasn’t home when I found the little brown and black puff ball that sauntered up our driveway this afternoon! Us gals did the right thing and little Rene brought us all some smiles on a day definitely in need of a few. Lord willing we will find her owner soon. In the meantime, carry on everyone. :JJ
UPDATE: After a night at Katie’s doggie B & B, trip to the vet, and her owner’s little girl confiding to a friend on the school bus that her doggie was lost, Nikki is home! Woofie, woofie, snort, snort!
4 While a large crowd was gathering and people were coming to Jesus from town after town, he told this parable:5 “A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path; it was trampled on, and the birds ate it up.
Nothing going on here at the nursery: barren ground and a dead stump provide a perch for this lone feline.
6 Some fell on rocky ground, and when it came up, the plants withered because they had no moisture.7 Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up with it and choked the plants.
In the absence of compost and amendments, nothing would grow in this soil!
8 Still other seed fell on good soil. It came up and yielded a crop, a hundred times more than was sown.”
Compost, Canadian peat moss, hardwood mulch and fertilizer should give these newbies and transplants a head start in their new home.
When he said this, he called out, “Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear.”
This passage provides important lessons for our lives. When we do not heed the Word of God all our efforts ultimately waste away, crumbling back to the earth like the dead plants in this compost pile.
9 His disciples asked him what this parable meant.10 He said, “The knowledge of the secrets of the kingdom of God has been given to you, but to others I speak in parables, so that, though seeing, they may not see; though hearing, they may not understand.
Striving in our own strength, is like blindly chasing after the wind.
11 “This is the meaning of the parable: The seed is the word of God.12 Those along the path are the ones who hear, and then the devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts, so that they may not believe and be saved.
Barren ground shall not awaken to the truth without the light, the Words of our Lord and Savior.
13 Those on the rocky ground are the ones who receive the word with joy when they hear it, but they have no root. They believe for a while, but in the time of testing they fall away.14 The seed that fell among thorns stands for those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by life’s worries, riches and pleasures, and they do not mature.
Plants weaken and become subject to pests and diseases when choked together. Perennials that mature properly require care, division, replanting, water, sunlight, fertilization, and time to grow in due season.
15 But the seed on good soil stands for those with a noble and good heart, who hear the word, retain it, and by persevering produce a crop.
The newly pruned and divided stella d’oro daylilies will flourish next year, finishing this season well and providing plants for the new garden bed too.
How glorious it is to rest in God’s creation and plan for our lives!Finished well. Thank you Lord!
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P.S. I’m thinking of putting together a group Skype devotional and prayer time once per week with others who are largely isolated for whatever reason. The focus would be open and based upon belief in God through the person of Jesus Christ of the Bible. Please leave me a comment below if you might be interested. I’ll do a separate blog on this soon! Take care, JJ
8:30 a.m. The big guy has finally finished praying, eating out of a tiny bowl, and remembered the fuzzy one at his feet. Yippee! It’s time for mad dashes across the yard at Top Gun speed in the cool air that I really like. The tall one thinks I really like that neon green ball but really it’s the hip massages I crave that follow when I roll onto my back at just the right moment. Roll over too soon and the scratches will barely reach my undercoat. Submit too late and he mutters something about work as our bonding time ends. HEY, I LIVE FOR THIS! What else is there in a dog’s life?
8:45 a.m. No way the dude got as tall as he is with the dry nuggets he feeds me. Better check out what’s in that little black bowl on the table when he’s in my storm shelter (aka bathroom) later. Finally it’s time to eat again, gourmet Purina Select for my allergies, but it’s chump change for a pup with discerning tastes. Oh well. I’ll see what I can charm out of the girly one when she appears after my post-breakfast nap.
9:00 a.m. I watch out the window as my buddy leaves in the bat mobile with funky racks on the roof and a grumbling noise that’s worse than me. Sigh. Who knows when the girly one will find me lying here in the laundry room. Better position myself so I can see her when she comes for me yet still defend my turf if needed. My eyes may be covered with furry lids yet I know when that beastly garbage truck, UPS invader, yellow child carrier, meter reader or anyone else threatens my territory. Time to go to work or is it sleep? They will never know!
9:30 a.m. Looks like the girly one has entered my zone here at the front of the house but she is ignoring me already. “Hi Elle” doesn’t cut it when my ears need scratching! Sometimes she gives me a teaser then goes and washes her hands in the perennial water bowl on the counter. Nice sentiment! I never brush my teeth when I lick your pants do I? Those earthlings just don’t get it. My mouth is cleaner than a baby’s bottom! Just ask G.J., the mutt that used to lick your grandmother’s feet every night. Heaven for both of them for sure.
10:00 a.m. More food smells fill my nose! Sometimes she’s eating in the unauthorized zone for me, in the back of the house somewhere and sometimes she’s out here with me in the kitchen. I like it when I am within range of the good stuff. She eats meat for breakfast and that is what I like too. I often get a fat scrap to tide me over until they almost forget to feed me in the evening. I really need to unionize or file a complaint about that one. I am on watch at this point. The girly one is up and I am a shepherd. I will protect her from anyone that drives into the courtyard that needs my scolding. Warning: “come near and I will eat you!” or at least it’s going to sound like it when you come near. That’s just the way it goes with bigger pups like yours truly.
11:00 a.m. Now where did she go? Hey, it’s still puppy play time! What about me? Sish. She’s gone back to the unknown zone in the back where I am not allowed to roam. Things get really quiet when she is back there. She’s still got that fake fur light blue coat on so maybe she is taking her own post-breakfast nap. Humans! Who can figure them out? Better believe that she will reappear if my barking is convincing enough. Hmmmmm. I could mess with her on this one a bit. And maybe I have . . . .
2 or 3 or 4:00 p.m. If she is still here and hasn’t left me stranded in my boring dog zone in the kitchen, the girly one is back. Yes! That means it’s time to go outside if I haven’t gone earlier. Sometimes she makes me wait a long time. Good thing I’m not on a potty schedule or anything. Gotta time these slurps of day-old water just right. (Not that I mind day-old water. Mud puddle, bird bath, pond scum, water dish are all the same to me!) If I am really cute maybe she will play with me a little longer or take me for a ride in the giant metal pet carrier on wheels. Well I am just going to sit here with my ball beyond the property line where she has tossed it and give her my best silhouette. It’s kind of like being obedient. She doesn’t know that it is a game with me. Who wins is the one who gets to play longer. If I come back right away after squirting the grass then she will usually toss the ball for me a couple more times. Win-win. I’m a dog and I’m not concerned about her afternoon appointments. It’s play time!
7-9:00 p.m. Rarely do I get to go anywhere in the evening unless short stuff takes me for a walk. When she grabs that black leash I am in heaven! Otherwise if they have stranded me for the day, it’s nearly dark when my peeps return with bags of stuff that rarely contains food for me. What a waste! Take me with you next time! I’ll sniff out the best deals! Oh well. At least they take me for a bathroom run again and let me run around the yard a bit before dark. The winter time is best for this when that white stuff is on the ground. I LIVE FOR SNOW! The big guy puts on his paw extensions and we go for long slides around my watering hole out back. IT’S THE BOMB! In the warmer months I get to do pretty much whatever I want while either the tall dude is pushing a buzzing snack shaver around my yard or the shorter one is digging up stuff, playing with my watering wand, or kicking me out of bunny sniffing zones. Paws are better for digging dontcha know and I have an underground condo to prove it! Alas, I love being outside. It’s where I was born and where I belong. However I’d really rather be with these oddballs without fur (except the big guy who has a wimpy version compared to me) so I go in when I am called. It’s my duty as their pup!
10:00 p.m. My masters sit and eat in front of me and never feed me from the table. What a rip off! It’s not like I can’t smell it you know! Later when they remember that I am hungry too (I am not just being cute: I am trying to tell you something!), they dump some more MRE rations in my bowl. Hey throwing it on the floor would be more fun really. Whatever. When the girly one gives me some skin, as in chicken skin, I am in heaven. This when I know I am truly alive. Then they wrestle with me and I pretend to chew on their paws. Yeah, they really love me. Even if they cut back on the tartar control mix they call dinner, to keep me a lean, mean, fighting machine — I don’t mind. The rabbits get a better run when I have a waist don’t you know?
11:00 p.m. At last. More dog time with my master. Oh the girly one thinks she has my heart cause she pets me when we are home alone or up late at night. Yeah but it’s the big dude that sets me straight and that is cool with me. I get a little wild sometimes in my canine heart that wants to run freeeeeeeee! His discipline is firm. This is how I know he loves me and wants to protect me as much as I want to protect him. I don’t really want to get squashed in the street you know as I chase the kids on their bikes. Maybe it looks like I don’t know what I am doing? That is not the case. I am a smart German shepherd and I am always on alert don’t you know. Just watch me sitting at the edge of the yard sometimes, placing my furry tush between them and any potentially offending intruder. One false move and I will let them know who is boss. Well, at least my bark will say that I am da boss!
Wee hours of the a.m. This is a strange time in my den. The girly one has been up with me until nearly daylight for the past 2 years. Sometimes I hear her crying in distress and it breaks my puppy heart. I am worried about her and I know she sees it in my face. The look is good for a scratch behind the ears too. “Puppy therapy” she calls it when I see her a little later. Whew! I sigh with relief that she’s o.k. I don’t know how she does it every night. Maybe she will get better and sleep more like me. I think it’s starting to happen but I can’t be sure. It’s a dog’s life and I live in the moment. Besides, dozing, sleeping, listening with my eyes closed is a full-time job you know. She used to do stuff outside our den most days of the week. Oh well. For now she’s here with me, most days and every night and I love her. The big guy is pretty cool too. He is rough with me and I like it. Such a nice blend. They make a great couple. Oh well. What do I know?
Jesus is for the Wounded 
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