Submission and Trust

Truth be told, I'm not keen on the term "submission." Here's Merriam-Webster's definition (parts 2 and 3):

Submission: :
2: the condition of being submissive , humble, or compliant
3: an act of submitting to the authority or control of another (Merriam-Webster on-line).

We Americans (ruggedly-individual-pull-ourselves-up-by-our-bootstraps-"but-we-have-our-rights" Americans) resist anything to do with humility, compliance, or yielding control.

Labs, thankfully, aren't like Americans in this regard. They're so eager to please, they willingly (well, maybe not-always-so-willingly) submit to us.


I'm glad they're so inclined. Especially when I think of the damage lack of submission (i.e., lack of humility or refusing to yield our "rights" for the sake of another) can bring in the human world: war; divorce; child-abuse; slavery; marital conflict; destructive relationships; etc.)

It's a me-first world today--one that's lost the ideals of sacrifice, service, duty, and honor. And it's my generation (the boomers) that have made it this way (let's own up here, boomer folks).

I wish we were more like Labs, who so willingly serve and do what we ask without complaint or a "what's in it for me" attitude. They serve us, and do so with great joy.

Why? Why are they so willing to abandon themselves for our sake?

Well, partly, of course, it's their nature to do so; they are Labs after all. And partly because then are not human (filled with self-centered ego).

But I think it may also have something to do with trust (isn't it interesting that our generation is the one that came up with "you can't trust anyone over 30").

Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge trust us. They know we have their good in mind. They intuitively understand that what we do is for their best.

Just two weeks ago Don accidentally cut Baxter's toenail too short (the last nail on the last of the three to be trimmed), and it bled. And bled. And bled. We had Baxter lie down; elevated his leg; put pressure on the bleed; applied clotting stuff to the nail tip; and yet we still ended up with half-a-roll of paper towels sopped in crimson blood stains.

Yet for all our flurry of activity, and for all Baxter's discomfort, he yielded. He stayed still, didn't fight us, and allowed us to do what needed to be done.

Imagine the chaos (and mess) if he hadn't.

But he could only do so because he trusted (and trusts) us.

Don and I have a marriage based on mutual submission. We don't fight for who's top dog; we don't squash each other to get our ways; we voluntarily and mutually seek the other's best. Do we sometimes disagree? Sure. But we work it through, trying to maintain humilty and with an eye to the others' need (not just our own).

And after 24 years, we're still best friends; we love each other deeply; we like each other; we appreciate each other; we look out for each other; and we trust each other without reservation.

Ah...there's that trust word again.

Trust is huge. Without trust, we can't have healthy relationships: in our families, with our friends, in the workplace, and even with our canines.

I've been asking myself this question lately: Am I trustworthy? Can I do more? What can I do to foster even deeper trust?

And am I willing to submit? Am I willing to yield my needs (e.g.: to get work done) for the sake of another's (e.g.: the dogs' need to get exercise and attention).

I'm in process. As we all are. But at least I'm asking the questions.

Are you?

'Til next time,
Joan

Of Sleep and Dreams

It's amazing to me how angelic our kids look when they're sleeping (canine and human, of course). It's especially true of our Labs. :o)

No impish grins.
No mischievous gleams in their eyes.
No playful yips for attention.
No pawing or jumping or teasing or nudging.


Just peace-filled slumber. Or fun-filled dreams of chasing birds, romping in the fields, and splashing in ice-cold streams.



For them, the transition from sleep to waking isn't sudden or rude. They yawn and stretch and sigh themselves awake. Then they're ready for the world. Real life, for a Lab, is every bit as fun as their dreams.

I've never known a Lab to have a nightmare (fears, yes--like Ridge with thunder; nightmares, no).

We humans, however, no matter how peaceful we look while sleeping, have nightmares. At least this one does. And sometimes our wakings terrify us.

I've had more bad dreams in recent months than in the last several years combined. Yet, life is good just now: not as difficult or as stressful as it has been; no crises; no crushing disappointments; and less stress. I'm exercising; I'm taking care of myself; I'm eating right; and all is well (with my soul and otherwise, and with that of my family members and friends).

It doesn't make sense. Nightmares now, when life is smooth and I have little to fear?

Yes, I've lived through seasons when my waking world felt far worse and more frightening than slumber land, and during those times I preferred to keep dreaming than to wake up and face the day (though face the day I did).

But life holds a gentle, quieter season for me right now. So why the bad dreams? Why now? Weird.

I'd love know what dreams really are. What's their purpose? Where do they come from? What do they reveal? And if answers to those questions exist, then how do those answers apply to our canine companions?

Mystery. Life is full of mystery. That's the wonder of living, I guess.

But I sure would like to know about dreams. And if I can't know, then at least I wish I'd quit having these dreams about death and unfaithfulness and sickness and disease and separation and loneliness and failure (you name it; I've envisioned it a dream lately).

I'd much rather join Baxter and Elsie and Ridge in their outdoor-adventure dreams, even if my legs twitched or I barked and drooled in my sleep. :o)

In any case, if I slept like my canine kids, I'd probably sleep better. Maybe I'll see if they'll tell me their secret.

I suppose I can ask, but I doubt they'll tell. ;o)

'Til next time,
Joan

So What Happened to Winter?

The canine kids are depressed. Well, this kid-at-heart is, too. ;o)

Here it is, January, and we're averaging 20 degrees above normal. Today it's supposed to hit 60 degrees (F). Gag.

We reeeeeeeeeeeeally like snow at our house. We loved having a white December, right up until two days before Christmas when it got warm and downpoured and washed most of the snow away.






Baxter and Ridge (and Elsie) raced in the snow.








They sniffed and sniffed and sniffed the snow.






The played hide-n-seek and let's-pounce-on-each-other. :o)









And sometimes they just sat and enjoyed the quiet.




Yes, it gets very quiet here after a good snow. Maybe that's why I like it so much.

We want our winter back.

Harumph!

You watch: I bet we get a snow-dumping noreaster here in late March, just about the time when we're ready for spring.

Go figure. But at least our seasons change, and it gives us something to look forward to (yes, I'm looking forward to that next big storm). In light of yesterday's post, I suspose the fact that we have seasons at all is something to savor. Even if they do seem to forget which season they are.

'Til next time,
Joan (who really dislikes these mid-winter warmups!)

Learning to Savor

Ah, for a Lab, there's nothing like a good bone!

I had a busy work day ahead of me today, and I didn't want to crate Elsie and Ridge, so I pulled out some solid, flavored knuckle bones to keep them happily occupied.

And the three of them went to town on their bones.

No one needs to teach them to savor this occasional (at our house) treat: they sniff it; they lick it; they prod it; the scrape their teeth on it; they hold it in their paws; they protect it; they enjoy it until their jaws tire; and even then, after a rest, they return to savor it some more.

Why don't we savor good things, even little things, more? That is, we humans. Labs have no trouble taking time to enjoy life's graces.

We're blessed with sooooooooo much, and not just things; moments, too. Yet we blur right by them or through them with barely a notice.

When I break out the bones for Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge, it's almost as though they've never been offered anything quite so delightful before. It doesn't matter if it's the 10th or 100th bone they've received. Each is fresh and exciting and fun and thoroughly gratifying.

They know how to savor. And we can learn from them.

Here's a short list of what I'm learning to savor, and as I do, my heart is becoming more full because of my savoring:

• my health (I can breath, see, hear, walk, smell, eat, think clearly, and a thousand other things -- my heart works, my live works, my lungs work, my brain works, my kidneys work). How quickly our health can change!
• my marriage (not perfect, but after 24 years my husband is still my best friend; I'm learning to treasure, appreciate, and enjoy him).
• my environment (sounds--stopping, closing my eyes, and just listening; sights--e.g.:noticing birds in the backyard and at the feeders; stopping and taking a moment to watch them; weather--enjoying the seasons and changes as they come).
• my kids (my human ones). I'm stepping back to notice all I love about them; they're personalities, passions, strengths, quirks--just who God made them to be.
• my work (being grateful that I have work; that I work in a profession I enjoy; that I work remotely from home most days; that I enjoy my co-workers; and that I'm using my strengths and gifts to help people).
• life itself (that God has given me this day, another day to live--how quickly and suddenly so many die without ever appreciating the lives they had).
• my canine kids :o) (their silliness, their eagerness, their faithfulness; all they teach me; the love they offer; their calming influence; the fact that we can afford to have them)
• our circumstances (not perfect, but we have a roof over our heads, food to eat, clothes to wear, cars to drive, and money to pay the bills most months)

Savoring doesn't mean life is perfect: We still have tough things with which to deal and stressors that weigh on our hearts. But savoring means appreciating what's good.

And we all have something good to savor, if only we'll take a moment, open our eyes, and notice.

Just like Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge do, virtually every moment of every day.

'Til next time,

Joan

Wow, It's Been Almost a Month!

We've finally returned!

But I can't believe it's been nearly a month since I blogged. It's amazing how much routine influences my productivity! And routine goes to pot during the holidays, at least at our house.

But, routine has returned; so here's to my blogging regularly again!

To get started, I thought I'd offer a recap of the last month's happenings categorized in opposing camps: Good Things (GT) and related Not So Good Things (NSGT). It's a smattering of topics in no particular order. Maybe you'll find some encouragement in seeing that my life is every bit as nuts as the next guy's. Enjoy!

GT: All three dogs love the new doggie beds we bought for them.
NSGT: We only bought two doggie beds, and we have three dogs. :( I guess there's always the couch or a human lap for whoever is left out. :)

GT: I'm really working 30 hours per week now (my employer has enough work for me to fill that many hours for me working remotely now). :)
NSGT: I have less time to blog and play with the "kids." :(

GT: I'm under freelance book contract again (in addition to my day job). :)
NSGT: I have fewer evenings available to snuggle with the Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge. They miss their "Mom" snuggle time. :( And I miss them. But they get lots of "Dad" time. :o)

GT: Ridge loves to snuggle now.
NSGT: My lap's not big enough for three Labs at one time (that would amount to 270 pounds of Lab).

GT: My lap's getting smaller. :o)
NSGT: My clothes are too big, but I'm not ready to buy a bunch of new ones.

GT: The human kids all made it home safely for the holidays. :)
NSGT: Now they're back at their respective colleges (2) and busy routines (all three). It's awfully quiet around here (humans adults and canine kids find it a bit too quiet, sometimes).

GT: I got my Christmas cards/letter out on time.
NSGT: It's been seven years since I sent Christmas cards/letters. :(

GT: I received good news at my annual physical last week. My triglycerides are down 300 points since last tested six months ago (Went from 480+ to 174).
NSGT: I hate physicals. :(

GT: I'm controlling my prediabetes well with just diet and exercise.
NSGT: I'm still not fond of exercise.

GT: Elsie and Baxter aren't chewing up forbidden things (shoes and such) anymore.
NSGT(?): Elsie and Baxter are no longer puppies. The "kids" are growing up.

GT: Elsie still loves to be next to us wherever we are, even when we're working.
NSGT: It's too easy to pay attention to her, and not to the things that have to get done.

GT: We made it through Elsie's last heat cycle just fine (though Ridge went bonkers again).
NSGT(?): Elsie still has at least one (maybe two) heat cycles to get through before she and Ridge can mate.

GT: I've been invited to join a teaching team to teach at a women's conference in Zambia (in May). My husband and I taught in Kenya a few years ago; so I'm excited to go back to Africa.
NSGT: I have to be gone two weeks (which means doggies will be crated all day for those two weeks). Anybody have any ideas how to handle this?

GT: I didn't gain any weight over the holidays; in fact, I lost a couple pounds. :o)
NSGT: I still have about 30 lbs. to go.

GT: It's been a very mild January here in PA (no snow, temps in the 40s and 50s, only rain).
NSGT: I hate mild Januaries. I love the cold and snow (as do Baxter and Elsie).

GT: I've completely eliminated white flour and sugar from the foods I eat.
NSGT: I had to give up some really yummy foods to do so.

GT: I'm blogging again. :o)
NSGT: It's been weeks since my last entry.


I suppose that's enough for now. Happy New Year, all! It's good to be back!

'Til next time,
Joan

Our Blizzard Boy (s)

Baxter is our Blizzard Puppy. We got him just a couple weeks before Christmas in 2003.

I drove nearly 7 hours (one way) just ahead of a predicted December noreaster to get Baxter from his breeder a few days shy of his 7-week-old release date. Because Baxter was healthy and big for his age, and because the breeder's vet had cleared him, and because the breeder knew we were in for quite a storm, they let me pick him up early.

We arrived home just as the blizzard started.


And a blizzard it was.


Dear hubby was away on a business trip in sunny Puerto Rico that week. ;o) Just like he's away in sunny California this week while our first "big snow" (for PA) blew in. We had about 8" of snow fall overnight. Hubby always seems to be away for events like blizzards and Elsie heat cycles. Hmmmmmm....

Anyway, Baxter is still our Blizzard Boy (the photos below were taken at 7:30 a.m. this morning during the tail end of the storm).

























He romps like a spring lamb in the snow.








And he loves playing with Elsie and Ridge, plowing through the white stuff no matter how deep.








Of course, he is the ripe old age of two now. So he does like to come in from the snow and warm himself by the fire.

Sweet, silly boy.

What's even sweeter is how he's rubbed off on our sweet silly son (the human kind).

Daniel (now 21) called this morning at 7:10 a.m. from college just to let me know he was as "giddy as a schoolboy" because of the snow. PBU had cancelled all classes because of the storm so, instead of sleeping in like most college kids, Dan had been out taking pictures since 6:30 a.m.

:o) Gotta love him.

Remember, this is my serious-minded, gentle, loving, mature-for-his-age son who also happens to have mild cerebral palsy (right-side involved) and a siezure disorder. He has almost no use of his right hand and limited use of his entire right side. Navigating in snow isn't easy for him. Life hasn't been easy for him (hence his maturity and serious-mindedness).

Yet he loves the snow.

But Daniel and Baxter are buds.











And Baxter has rubbed off on him.

That's our Blizzard Boy for ya. I suppose I have two Blizzard Boys now. Go figure.

'Til next time, and Happy Snow!
Joan

Human Canines, Part 2 (The Christmas Version)

Since the first installment of "Human Canines" came at Thanksgiving, I thought the next installment should come during this Christmas season.

With only 18 days left until Christmas, I thought now would be a good time to post more ways our canine kids reflect us and our behavior, and more lessons we can learn from them.

So here's "Human Canines, Part 2 (The Christmas Version)." Enjoy!


1. Labs know how to frolic.











2. They demonstrate patience.













3.When they itch, they scratch.











4. They're willing to dig for good things.













5.They know how to savor the moment. :o)











6. Snow isn't a nuisance; it's a great excuse for fun.













7.They understand and appreciate the value of rest.











8. They share.













9.They take time to look at things from a higher point of view.











10. They do what's necessary to gain better perspective.















11. They stop and smell the roses (or whatever scent is in the air).











12. They sleep when they need to.














13. They offer affection unsparingly.











14. They know how to be comfortable wherever they are.













15. The exercise more when they have someone to exercise with.











16. They understand the need for boundaries.














17. They smile easily and often.











18. They know how to stay focused, even when others attempt to distract them.













19. They hold on to what's important.











20. They stay by our sides.











And most of all, Labs are just Labs: faithful, attentive, affectionate, exuberant, and wonderful to be around.

Here's to loving, living with, and learning from them.

'Til next time,
Joan

Jingle Dogs

Well, it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas around here. :o)

For the first time in several years, I'm really decorating. Even the dogs are getting in on the act (we call them our "Jingle Dogs" with their fancy red and white jingle-bell collars).


The last three Decembers ('02, '03, '04) held major work deadlines for me, so I did only the bare minimum of Christmas traditions: a tree (put up Christmas Eve); an Advent calendar (barely used); a few candles; stockings on the fireplace mantel; presents Christmas morning, a few family gatherings, and that's about it.

But this year...ah, this year, we're doing Christmas the way we did for years and years: decorations, homemade goodies (cookies, fudge, peanute brittle, muddy buddies, hash), Christmas music, Christmas movies (my favorite: A Muppet Christmas Carol), Advent readings, worship services, and of course, the rest (tree, shopping, gifts, family time, etc.).

For the first time in years, it's fun. Truly fun -- not pressured. Wow. What a change.

I worked hard to create memories when the kids (the human kind) were small. I wanted Christmases to be perfect. I pressured myself to create a Normal Rockwell Christmas every year. But I always failed. Always--I couldn't get it right (perfect), no matter how hard I tried. And I always walked away from Christmas disappointed.

By the time my youngest son hit his mid-teens a few years ago, I was worn out. I'd burnt out on Christmas and its harriedness. Besides, Christmas (and all its traditions) didn't seem to matter so much anymore, especially since the kids were grown.

I was wrong.

My young adult children (18, 19, 21) seem to need Christmas traditions now more than ever, especially now that two of them live away from home. They ask for all those things I did when they were small; they look forward to them. And not because the things I did were perfect (far from it), but because those things made my kids feel loved and secure.

Well, duh.

What do you know! I finally get it.

It's only taken me nearly two decades to realize that Christmas isn't (and never was) about Norman Rockwell images of perfection (why do we do this to ourselves!).

Regardles of season of life, I'm learning that Christmas is a time of celebration: we celebrate God's gift to us in Jesus; we celebrate being part of a family (no matter what size or h0w scattered); we celebrate living in a land where we are free to observe Christ's birth; we celebrate countless graces (roofs over our heads, food on our tables, clean water to drink, sanitary living conditions, well-stocked stores, relative peace and safety, the beauty of nature, you name it...); we celebrate the gift of love and the Lord of Love Himself.

Our problem, at least in the United States, is that Christmas becomes so busy and so material, that we fail to take time to notice the heart and reason behind it all.

If only we'd take time to do so.

So this year, I started early. I started reading Advent reflections Thanksgiving weekend. I let my boss know that I'd be cutting back on my hours in December (as a freelancer, I have this luxury) so I could pace myself through the holidays; I've taken time to sit, be still, and reflect on the true meaning of the season. Instead of dealing with the stress of malls and traffic, I did most of my shopping on-line, and now my shopping is done (a first for me in early December); my house is decorated (inside and out!). I have Christmas music playing all day while I'm working in the house. And I may even send Christmas cards this year (something I haven't done in several years).

But most of all, this Christmas, for me, is about relationship: relationship with God and relationship with those I love.

Dr. Suess's How the Grinch Stole Christmas sums it up best:

"Every Who down in Who-ville, the tall and the small,
Was singing! Without any presents at all!
He HADN'T stopped Christmas from coming! It CAME!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!

And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: 'How could it be so?'
'It came without ribbons! It came without tags!
'It came without packages, boxes or bags!'
And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before!
'Maybe Christmas,' he thought, 'doesn't come from a store.
'Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!'"

Here's to hoping your next few weeks (and mine) will be filled with the 'little bit more.'

'Til next time,
Joan

Ridge is Howling Again

Poor Ridge. Elsie's in the prime mating phase of her heat cycle, and Ridge's testosterone is in overdrive (as it should be). The poor boy only wants to do what his body chemistry is telling him to do.

But he can't. Not yet. And he's howling in protest.

We have one more heat cycle to get through (after this one) until Elsie will be old enough to have her hips and eyes screened. Once we have her screening results, then we'll know whether or not we can breed her. Until then, we need to keep her away from the boys while in heat. Besides, she's still too young (only 15 months old).

In the meantime Ridge must wait.

Mercifully, we have Benedryl. Our vet recommends using 75mg. (Ridge weighs 85 lbs.) of Benedryl as a sedative when Elsie is ripe. It really does calm him, and it doesn't have any lasting effects. Elsie is prime now (at least according to Ridge's behavior), so I broke out the pink and white capsules today.


Despite the Benedryl effect, we still have to crate Ridge and Elsie when she's in heat. We do this crate rotation thing to protect her. If Ridge is out, Elsie stays in her crate. If Elsie is out, Ridge must stay in his. And if I have to go out and can't supervise them, both go into their crates.


Baxter, sweet neutered male that he is, no longer needs a crate; he has a doggy bed in the family room. And he's oblivious to it all.

The howling problem occurs only when Ridge is crated. If Elsie is crated and Ridge is out, he's content to sniff and pace and sleep next to Elsie's crate.

When Elsie is out, however, and Ridge is crated, the howling begins. If both are crated, Ridge howls then, too.

The funny thing is, Elsie's heat cycle is the ONLY time Ridge seems to mind his crate. He really likes it most of the time, though he doesn't need it; he's so well behaved.


We leave Ridge's crate up for him all the time only because Ridge seems to prefer it. It's his den. When Elsie is not in heat, we leave Ridge' s crate door open all day, and he comes and goes as he pleases. When he naps during the day, he prefers to mosey into his crate for a snooze. When he wants a break from Elsie and Baxter, he goes there and lies down. He likes his crate.

Well, most of the time. Just not when it keeps him from in-the-prime-of-her-heat-cycle Elsie.

Elsie, little imp that she is, still needs hers (she's still chewing things she shouldn't chew if I'm not in the room). And her heat cycle is the ONLY time she LIKES her crate (she seems to prefer being there to being sniffed and mounted; I suppose I would, too, if I were her).

LOL. She and Ridge are polar opposites. At least during heat cycles.

Ahh, but this too shall pass. And it may even pass before Christmas! Yay!

I can't imagine dealing with Christmas and heat cycles at the same time! How thankful I am for small mercies (like Elsie's prime occurring right now and not two weeks from now).

Now if we can just get through the next week and stay sane...(thank you, Benedryl!).

'Til next time,
Joam

Always Ready Yes; But Always Able?

One of the things I love about Labs is their eagerness. They're always ready to play or work or train or do whatever we ask them to do.

It doesn't matter what we have in mind.

All we have to do is say their names, and they're there (reminiscent of James Taylor's "You've Got a Friend" or of the biblical prophet Samuel who heard his name called and immediately responded with "Here I am").

Unlike so many human types, our canine friends faithfully respond to our calls.


They show up.
Immediately.
With enthusiasm.
Eager to please.
Willing to do their best.

How many humans do the same when called upon to do something?

Okay, I'll admit there are exceptions (like when they're reluctant to stay behind when one of the other dogs is going out with Don to train). But overall our Labs are eager to please and will do what we ask.

That is, if they have the ability.

One of the parenting books I read when my human children were young talked about the difference between "willful definance" and "childish irresponsibility." A child who stomps her foot and says "no, I won't clean my room and you can't make me" is being willfully defiant. That's entirely different than the child who forgets to put her dirty clothes in the laundry hamper (she's not willful, just forgetful) or who falls asleep working on her room because she's so tired (again, not willful, just physically unable at that time).

Parents have to decide if their children's lack of compliance is a matter of attitude or inability.

My brother-in-law is a Director of Human Resources for an information techonology firm, and when dealing with employees who aren't doing what they've been asked to do, he has to decide if the issue is a matter of "will" (an "I won't" attitude) or "skill" (an "I can't" issue).

Bosses have to decide if their workers' lack of compliance is will or skill.

As parents or bosses, how we handle lack of compliance depends on the reason behind it.

I think the same goes with dogs. Is their non-compliance, when it occurs, attitude or inability, will or skill?

Our Labs are always ready to please us (it's characteristic of the breed), so when they don't comply we have to ask why?

Sometimes it's immaturity.
Sometimes it's puppy-ish irresponsibility.
Sometime it's ignorance (they truly didn't know any better).
Sometimes it's a need for more development or training.

And, yes, sometimes it's will.

Labs can be stubborn when they want to be. But usually there's a reason behind it. Sometimes the reason is clear (as in Elsie's current "I don't want to wear this stupid diaper" or "I don't want to be crated when Ridge is out," both of which she has to do while in heat, as she is again right now). Sometimes it's less so.

But good parents (of dogs or kids) take the time to find out why.

Our "kids" (whether two- or four-legged) will love us all the more for it. And, to boot, they'll respond better next time.

Here's to understanding our "kids," whoever they may be, and treating them as they have need.

'Til next time,
Joan

The Good Things - Part 1

Since tomorrow is Thanksgiving, I thought today would be a good day to post photos of the "good" things our canine kids do, the things for which we're thankful.

And we truly are grateful for the richness our Labs add to our lives.

So here's to Baxter, Elsie, and Ridge, who give so much and ask so little in return!





They do everything with enthusiasm.








They take time for back scratches and belly rubs.








They illustrate flexibility. :o)








They express affection.








They pay attention.








They keep our laps (and hearts) warm.







They (well Ridge and Baxter, anyway) know what belongs to them and are content with what they have.







They greet us (and everyone) with gusto, making us feel loved when we return home.








They're generous with hugs.








And with kisses, too. :o)









They know how to befriend those who are different than they.








And they keep us smiling (note peanut butter on tongue.)




Yes, indeed, we're glad to share life with our canine kids. And we learn much from their ways.

I'm sure we'll learn more in the years to come, but for now we're thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all!

'Til next time,
Joan