Ridge sleeping off the effects of yesterday's general anesthesia. He had part 2 of his root canal done on the tooth he broke back in April.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Ridge Returns to the Dentist
Ridge goes to the doggie dentist again today for his second round of drilling and capping on the tooth he broke two months ago.
I suspect he'll come home sedated (heavily this time, unlike his recent impulse-controlling adventures with Benedryl).
Poor boy.
He could barely stand up when he came home last time. And his face was sooooo droopy he almost looked like a Shar-Pei.
When Don and Ridge left this morning Elsie and Baxter, of course, went wild with jealousy ("Ridge gets to go in the car with Dad, and we don't!"). If only they knew what awaited Ridge at the other end of his ride.
Humans are like that, aren't we? We envy other people's experiences, circumstances, successes, lives, jobs, relationships, and things. But we don't consider the downsides that come with the very things over which we're jealous. Like Elsie and Baxter, we only know what we see. We don't even consider what we cannot see.
If only we really knew. We might not be jealous at all. We might even learn to be content with what we've been given. Our lives might not look so bad after all.
Everyone has downsides to their lives. There's no such thing as a greener pasture. Not really. Oh sure, we can always find ways to improve our circumstances or ways in which we'd like to see our lives change. But the point is this: every greener pasture has its weeds and fences, no matter how green.
And if we can't deal with the weeds and fences we have (big or small), how can we expect to better cope with others'?
When Ridge comes home later today, Elsie and Baxter will undoubtedly shower him with concern and affection, their momentary jealousy long forgotten.
These two crazy critters have much to teach us about short jealousy memories and long lavish concern for others. They know how to put things behind them. They've learned to be content. They know how to love.
Do we?
'Til next time,
Joan
I suspect he'll come home sedated (heavily this time, unlike his recent impulse-controlling adventures with Benedryl).
Poor boy.
He could barely stand up when he came home last time. And his face was sooooo droopy he almost looked like a Shar-Pei.
When Don and Ridge left this morning Elsie and Baxter, of course, went wild with jealousy ("Ridge gets to go in the car with Dad, and we don't!"). If only they knew what awaited Ridge at the other end of his ride.
Humans are like that, aren't we? We envy other people's experiences, circumstances, successes, lives, jobs, relationships, and things. But we don't consider the downsides that come with the very things over which we're jealous. Like Elsie and Baxter, we only know what we see. We don't even consider what we cannot see.
If only we really knew. We might not be jealous at all. We might even learn to be content with what we've been given. Our lives might not look so bad after all.
Everyone has downsides to their lives. There's no such thing as a greener pasture. Not really. Oh sure, we can always find ways to improve our circumstances or ways in which we'd like to see our lives change. But the point is this: every greener pasture has its weeds and fences, no matter how green.
And if we can't deal with the weeds and fences we have (big or small), how can we expect to better cope with others'?
When Ridge comes home later today, Elsie and Baxter will undoubtedly shower him with concern and affection, their momentary jealousy long forgotten.
These two crazy critters have much to teach us about short jealousy memories and long lavish concern for others. They know how to put things behind them. They've learned to be content. They know how to love.
Do we?
'Til next time,
Joan
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Small Puppy, Big Dog
Baxter outgrew his body. Well, sort of. He outgrew his idea of his body.
You see, Baxter's parents were small, stocky Labs. And Baxter was a small, stocky puppy. And as a small, stocky puppy, Baxter fit in spaces meant for small, stocky dogs.
Small, stocky Baxter fit under our deck chairs, under the coffee table, under the kitchen table and chairs, between the recliner and its end table, under the rolltop desk, under the patio furniture and glass-top (Plexiglas) tables--anywhere you can imagine a small, stocky dog--small stocky Baxter puppy wiggled himself there.
As he grew, however, small stocky Baxter wasn't so small and stocky anymore. He soon realized (after countless upended chairs and tables) that he couldn't fit under certain things anymore. He wisely gave up trying.
One place, however, that Baxter (no matter what his size) could count on hiding beneath was the picnic table.
Not anymore.
Baxter has outgrown his ability to fit his lumbering, leggy Lab body between the picnic table benches and table top. If he succeeds in getting under the table, he gets stuck trying to get out (see photo above). I guess that's why he's resorted to getting on top of the table now.
Poor Boos. He can't help his size. In his head he's probably still our small stocky Baxter puppy, when in reality he's grown-up giant Baxter dog.
What makes it particularly difficult is that out small, stocky Elsie puppy stayed small and stocky as she grew. She can still fit pretty much wherever she used to fit. And when she and Baxter play, she hides in those places. She knows Boos can't reach her there.
Baxter, the gentle giant Lab, our genetic anomaly, will adjust. Eventually.
Until then, I guess we'll just have to help him when he gets stuck.
'Til next time,
Joan (who, too, has outgrown her idea of her body--it's a middle age thing) ;o)
You see, Baxter's parents were small, stocky Labs. And Baxter was a small, stocky puppy. And as a small, stocky puppy, Baxter fit in spaces meant for small, stocky dogs.
Small, stocky Baxter fit under our deck chairs, under the coffee table, under the kitchen table and chairs, between the recliner and its end table, under the rolltop desk, under the patio furniture and glass-top (Plexiglas) tables--anywhere you can imagine a small, stocky dog--small stocky Baxter puppy wiggled himself there.
As he grew, however, small stocky Baxter wasn't so small and stocky anymore. He soon realized (after countless upended chairs and tables) that he couldn't fit under certain things anymore. He wisely gave up trying.
One place, however, that Baxter (no matter what his size) could count on hiding beneath was the picnic table.
Not anymore.
Baxter has outgrown his ability to fit his lumbering, leggy Lab body between the picnic table benches and table top. If he succeeds in getting under the table, he gets stuck trying to get out (see photo above). I guess that's why he's resorted to getting on top of the table now.
Poor Boos. He can't help his size. In his head he's probably still our small stocky Baxter puppy, when in reality he's grown-up giant Baxter dog.
What makes it particularly difficult is that out small, stocky Elsie puppy stayed small and stocky as she grew. She can still fit pretty much wherever she used to fit. And when she and Baxter play, she hides in those places. She knows Boos can't reach her there.
Baxter, the gentle giant Lab, our genetic anomaly, will adjust. Eventually.
Until then, I guess we'll just have to help him when he gets stuck.
'Til next time,
Joan (who, too, has outgrown her idea of her body--it's a middle age thing) ;o)
Monday, May 30, 2005
Elsie's Smiles
Phew. Elsie is finally past her prime fertility time, and her heat is passing. Don is back from Ireland; Ridge is sane now (even without Benedryl); I'm over my food poisoning; and life is back to some semblance of normal (is there such a thing?). Can you hear us dancing?
And now I have time to notice the little things once again. Like Elsie's smiles.
A long time ago, some old fuddy-duddy told me dogs don't smile (I can't remember who). He said they were incapable of smiling, especially since they are incapable of emotion. And I believed him. Once. Many years ago. When I was young, naive, and gullible.
Well, dear old FD whoever you are (or were), I now beg to differ. Our Elsie Girl and Baxter Boos both smile. But Elsie's smiles are more visible (Baxter's get lost in his black sheen).
And Elsie only smiles when...well...when she's smiling--when she's happy, excited, or feeling upbeat. She doesn't smile when she's sad or tired or lonely or has been reprimanded. Her smiles aren't gastric reflexes as some claim; they seem to be genuine smiles to me.
Call me crazy. But I know our canine kids smile sometimes. Truly. With emotion. When they're happy or glad to see us. When they just can't contain themselves.
Okay. So I might be guilty of anthropomorphizing the dogs, but who cares? They really do smile. You'll never convince me otherwise. :o)
And their smiles make me smile, too.
'Til next time,
Joan (who is feeling MUCH better)
And now I have time to notice the little things once again. Like Elsie's smiles.
A long time ago, some old fuddy-duddy told me dogs don't smile (I can't remember who). He said they were incapable of smiling, especially since they are incapable of emotion. And I believed him. Once. Many years ago. When I was young, naive, and gullible.
Well, dear old FD whoever you are (or were), I now beg to differ. Our Elsie Girl and Baxter Boos both smile. But Elsie's smiles are more visible (Baxter's get lost in his black sheen).
And Elsie only smiles when...well...when she's smiling--when she's happy, excited, or feeling upbeat. She doesn't smile when she's sad or tired or lonely or has been reprimanded. Her smiles aren't gastric reflexes as some claim; they seem to be genuine smiles to me.
Call me crazy. But I know our canine kids smile sometimes. Truly. With emotion. When they're happy or glad to see us. When they just can't contain themselves.
Okay. So I might be guilty of anthropomorphizing the dogs, but who cares? They really do smile. You'll never convince me otherwise. :o)
And their smiles make me smile, too.
'Til next time,
Joan (who is feeling MUCH better)
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Lessons from Our Labs
We've all seen those lists floating around about important things we learned in Kindergarten or Sunday School or from our dogs. Well here's my start to a similar list of things Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge have either taught us or reminded us of.
Twenty Lessons We've Learned from Our Labs
1. Hope and optimism are contagious. Enthusiasm is, too.
2. There's nothing like a warm lap on a cold night.
3. Boundaries are good; they protect us.
4. Sleep is productive.
5. When you're tired, take a nap. It's okay. Really.
6. Exercise is fun. Exercise is fun. Exercise is fun (repeat).
7. A messy house isn't a big deal after all.
8. It's more fun to share.
9. Loved ones are worth protecting.
10. People are more important than things.
11. Too much food isn't healthy.
12. Be alert for the good things in life; otherwise you may miss them.
13. A little affection can go a long way.
14. When someone's hurting, let him know you care.
15. Take time everyday to enjoy some fresh air.
16. It's okay to be impish now and then; it makes life interesting.
17. Some joys in life require vulnerability.
18. New experiences may be uncomfortable, but they're worth trying.
19. A life shared with others is far more enjoyable than a life spent isolating yourself.
20. When we're sad or afraid, we can run to One who knows, loves us, provides for us, and is with us always. We can rest secure in His arms.
That's enough for now. Now if only we'd learn to live these lessons daily, just as our canine kids do.
'Til next time,
Joan
Twenty Lessons We've Learned from Our Labs
1. Hope and optimism are contagious. Enthusiasm is, too.
2. There's nothing like a warm lap on a cold night.
3. Boundaries are good; they protect us.
4. Sleep is productive.
5. When you're tired, take a nap. It's okay. Really.
6. Exercise is fun. Exercise is fun. Exercise is fun (repeat).
7. A messy house isn't a big deal after all.
8. It's more fun to share.
9. Loved ones are worth protecting.
10. People are more important than things.
11. Too much food isn't healthy.
12. Be alert for the good things in life; otherwise you may miss them.
13. A little affection can go a long way.
14. When someone's hurting, let him know you care.
15. Take time everyday to enjoy some fresh air.
16. It's okay to be impish now and then; it makes life interesting.
17. Some joys in life require vulnerability.
18. New experiences may be uncomfortable, but they're worth trying.
19. A life shared with others is far more enjoyable than a life spent isolating yourself.
20. When we're sad or afraid, we can run to One who knows, loves us, provides for us, and is with us always. We can rest secure in His arms.
That's enough for now. Now if only we'd learn to live these lessons daily, just as our canine kids do.
'Til next time,
Joan
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Safe Places
I wrote earlier this week about Baxter's new safe place atop the picnic table, the place where he goes to get away from Ridge's testosterone-driven affections.
Elsie has a safe place now, too: under the arbovite at the corner of the deck.
The only evergreen in our backyard, the 20-foot shrub holds a number of bird feeders. Hearing the birds hidden within, Elsie has been fascinated with this tree since her arrival eight months ago. She's alert to bird calls and wants to investigate them wherever she finds them.
At one time the arbovite's lower branches brushed the ground, and song birds hid there. Not anymore.
Elsie has seen fit to clean out underneath the tree , creating a cool shady place for respite from the heat. Funny thing was, I had planned to clean out under the bushy evergreen; it had become quite overgrown. I had even planned to prune its lower branches.
Now there's no need. The Elsie Squirt (aka Doctor Destructo) ripped the lower branches from the trunk so she'd have room to rest underneath and a place where she could peek up through remaining branches to keep eye on the birds above. Elsie, the tree trimmer. Gotta love her.
Not only does Elsie go to her base-of-the-tree hideaway when she's hot; she tries to hide her toys there to keep them away from Baxter. When Baxter and Elsie play, she high-tails it to beneath the tree thinking she'll get away from him.
The girl is seriously deluded. A 20-foot arbovite stop Baxter? Not in this lifetime.
So her safe place isn't as safe as she thought it was. Guess she'll have to find a new one.
'Til next time,
Joan
Elsie has a safe place now, too: under the arbovite at the corner of the deck.
The only evergreen in our backyard, the 20-foot shrub holds a number of bird feeders. Hearing the birds hidden within, Elsie has been fascinated with this tree since her arrival eight months ago. She's alert to bird calls and wants to investigate them wherever she finds them.
At one time the arbovite's lower branches brushed the ground, and song birds hid there. Not anymore.
Elsie has seen fit to clean out underneath the tree , creating a cool shady place for respite from the heat. Funny thing was, I had planned to clean out under the bushy evergreen; it had become quite overgrown. I had even planned to prune its lower branches.
Now there's no need. The Elsie Squirt (aka Doctor Destructo) ripped the lower branches from the trunk so she'd have room to rest underneath and a place where she could peek up through remaining branches to keep eye on the birds above. Elsie, the tree trimmer. Gotta love her.
Not only does Elsie go to her base-of-the-tree hideaway when she's hot; she tries to hide her toys there to keep them away from Baxter. When Baxter and Elsie play, she high-tails it to beneath the tree thinking she'll get away from him.
The girl is seriously deluded. A 20-foot arbovite stop Baxter? Not in this lifetime.
So her safe place isn't as safe as she thought it was. Guess she'll have to find a new one.
'Til next time,
Joan
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