Persistence

"Ohboyohboyohboy. Look, Mom! I have a bone!"

"Mom! Come on, Mom. Look! I have a bone!"

"No, really, LOOOOOK! I have a bone!"

"Dad...Mom won't look close enough. See I have a BONE!"

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad! LOOK!"

"Daaaa-aaaaad, Look closer!!!!"

"You gotta look even closer, Dad... here I'll show ya!"

Ahhhh... the Sweet Kenya bean. What a model of persistence she is.

I suppose I could learn something from her.

'Til next time,

Joan (who tends to give up on things WAY too easily).

More Signs of Spring

I know the weather's getting warmer when I can no longer sneak some ice from the ice dispenser without eight pleading eyes asking for ice cubes, too. (Yes, that's an ice cube in my hand below--well, actually four ice cubes: one in my right hand, three in my left.)



My poor, cold, ice-cube-holding hands tell me it really must be spring after all.

Labs: ya gotta luv 'em.

'Til next time,
Joan

It Must be Spring!

Ahhh....

The forsythia bushes are in full bloom:















The daffodils have blossomed:

The pussy-willow buds are long past seed:














My Grecian windflowers welcome the sun each morning:
















And Baxter has rediscovered the cushioned deck sofa:
















Yup, it must be springtime, after all. :o)


'Til next time,

Joan

The Need for Soft Mouths

One trait Labs are famous for (among many) is their soft retrieving mouths.

Oh, yes, we Lab owners know all-too-well how destructive those very same mouths can be, especially during the need-to-chew-everything-in-sight-years of puppydom. But when Labradors retrieve game, they return the catch softly to us, almost tenderly, so that no injury comes to the carcasses they carry.



Their releases at our "drop" commands are just as soft.


Apparently, Labs aren't the only mammal with soft mouths.

While hiking back on an in-and-out trail above Laurel Falls in Great Smoky Mountain National Park on our vacation two weeks ago, we found ourselves within twenty yards of a mother black bear and her brand new cub. The pair dallied about the base of an old growth tulip tree abutting our only path down the mountain. We couldn't go farther without posing a threat to the young family and, with the unpredictable nature and behavior of black bears in the wild, it wasn't a risk we wanted to take.

[FYI, dear hubby or I took all of the pictures you see in this post (zoomed, of course). You can see, Mamma Bear wasn't anyone to mess with.]

Mamma made herself at home, lounging beneath the tree or strolling a few yards up and down the trail when she felt inclined to do so (the cub always within a few feet of her; note cub hanging on her back leg in photo above), but otherwise napping, nursing, and giving the cub tree-climbing lessons.



We waited her out (the only thing we could do). And we watched the interplay between mother and offspring.

Fascinating.

Incredible.

Breathtaking.

The cub behaved like a toddler: tumbling here and there, testing his limits, showing no fear until he found himself stuck, became hungry, needed help, or couldn't see Mom.

The little tyke must've tried to climb that same tree at least five times in the two hours (yes, two hours) we waited for the bears to move far enough away from the trail for us to safely pass.

And every time, without fail, he'd get part way up the towering tree, freeze, and start screaming for Mamma Bear. I've never heard a bear cub scream before; it's incredibly like a blend of human infant howls and screeching birds of prey.

Ever the faithful nurturer, Mamma Bear would climb the tree, gently take the cub in her mouth, and carry her progeny in those powerful jaws tenderly down the trunk again.

Baby Bear couldn't have weighed more than seven or eight pounds (if that); Mamma Bear had to top 300 pounds. But watching her nudge and prod Baby Bear off that tree and into her mouth, you would've thought she was handling hand-blown glass.

She, of necessity, used a soft mouth to retrieve her cub.

A Lab's soft mouth is essential for safely and cleanly retrieving game.

I suspect we human mammals, too, face circumstances necessitating soft mouths, particularly when our target, like a baby bear or downed fowl, is fragile or easily broken.

• Perhaps we want to reach a wayward child
• Maybe we're "rescuing" a crisis-entrenched friend.
• Maybe the target of our soft retrieve is fellow-worker or peer who finds himself lost or in trouble.
• It could even be that we need to reach ourselves--talking ourselves through issues or our responses to things.

Whatever our targets, though there is a time for tough love and strong accountability, even the toughest of us could afford to be soft-mouthed now and then.

It may be the only approach that works without injury.

'Til next time,

Joan

Tagged (and my tags) for The Thinking Blogger Award

Wow!

I'm finally catching up on my blogging after being away, and I just discovered that Laura, Willow, and Stella over at Dog's Eye View (one of my favorite working Lab sites) have tagged us here at LabTails for a Thinking Blogger Award.


Double Wow! I feel privileged.

The Thinking Blogger Award seems to be an effective way to get the word out about blogs that make us think. I'm tickled that Laura has read something here that prompted her to reflect or ponder or whatever it is that made her consider LabTails when selecting her candidates for the award.

And you can only receive the award if someone else tags you (there's no self-promotion with this recognition!).

So here are my top five tags for the Thinking Blogger Award. Though I read, appreciate, and enjoy many dog blogs, only one of the following is specifically dog- or Lab-related. It seems most of the dog blogs I read are more diary-like or informational, but not intended necessarily to be thought-provoking, philosophical, or inspirational (except Dog's Eye View, of course, which I can't tag because she tagged me).

This is my "Five Blogs that Make Me Think" list. The only dog-related blog on this list is Karen Shanley's (#3 on my list):

1. The Hero's Journey (formerly known as LostinScotland): Honest, very well written, poignant, with fabulous photography, this blog is written by a fabulous writer with tender insight and thought-provoking observations. I hope you enjoy her as much as I have (and do).

2. Sacred Journey (by foolishsage): Though Mark (this blog's author) doesn't know I read him regularly, I find his posts to be real and honest, yet faith-based, and written from a point-of-view dear to my heart. My husband graduated over twenty years ago from Westminster Theological Seminary, where this blogger is currently a student, and it's refreshing to see a WTS student actively engaging the world with humor, grace, and humility, but without pretense. I appreciate his writings and perspective.

3. Karen Shanley's Blog: Filled with musings about life with her daughter, her Australian Shepherd, her Border Collie, and her Maine Coon Cat, this blog is sometimes humorous and sometimes tender, but always insightful. I appreciate Karen's (who also happens to be a published author) insight.

4. Common Grounds: I just like this blog: the way it's written; the observations its writers make; the challenges they make to my thinking. Again, a faith-based blog, this site is filled with honest, warm, sometimes humorous obersvations about life and faith.

5. The Purple Cellar: This blog offers solid, challenging insight on what it means to live a life of faith, but it's never arogant, preachy, or condescending.

I hope you find these blogs as engaging as I have!

'Til next time,
Joan

We're BAAAAACK (after being in Tennessee!)

We're back from our delightful second-honeymoon-25th-anniversary-celebration-trip to the Great Smoky Mountains, and what a wonderful trip it was!

Nine days (count 'em -- NINE) whole days of just hubby and me doing what we wanted, when we wanted with no real agenda other than to hike the trails of Great Smoky Mountain National Park. No extended family with us. No human kids. No canines. No one else's itinerary.

Just Don and I. Wow. Way cool.

(Yes, I took this picture from the top of Clingman's Dome, the highest point in the national park.)

It's difficult to capture in words just how beautiful and majestic the Smokies are. All I can say is that you folks who live in Tennessee and North Caroline are truly blessed to have this national treasure at your doorsteps. Enjoy it!

This is the first time we've left all four dogs in a kennel at one time, and the first time we've ever left any of the them for this long.

The canine kiddos did fine while we were away. But BOY were they happy to see us. Even Ridge (who normally loves the kennel), was super affectionate when we got home.

They were so excited, I had to transport them only two at a time (couldn't handle all four dogs all wound up in the car at one time -- not safe for any of us).

Poor Ridge, who the kennel owners raved about the last time we left him there for two days eight months ago, was apparently really nervous for the first four or five days we were away (they told us he had diarrhea, wouldn't eat, and paced all the time). The kennel folks finally got him calmed down and he was fine for the rest of his stay.

But he seemed like a little lost soul when they brought him out to me.

And he's the one who's been most secure going to the kennel for a weekend (which we've only done once or twice a year since we've had him).

Usually the dogs go with us when we go away for a weekend (to the lake, mostly), or one of the human kids hangs here with them. They aren't apart from us much or for very long, nor we from them.

But this was out 25th anniversary, and we really wanted a vacation: a real vacation with no daily responsibilities.

We missed them, believe it or not. All of them (canine kids and human kids alike). I didn't think we would. But what I learned is that Don and I can truly celebrate being "us" and still miss our other loved ones. They are a part of "us" now, too.

Love always has room for more.

It's so nice, now, to sit by the fire of our family room with Baxter or Elsie snuggled in our laps and Kenya or Ridge nestled at our feet. We enjoyed the wood-burning fireplace in our Smoky Mountain suite, but it wasn't the same. The canines complete the experience somehow, bringing a warmth and security all their own.

And it's sweet to eat lunch at the kitchen table with our four four-legged critters nearby.

Yes, we had a delightful time away; it's the best vacation I've ever had.

But it's good to be home.

'Til next time,
Joan

Dad's Home! Ohboyohboyohboy! :o)

I'm a happy girl!!!!!

A Father's Daughter

This is a recent picture (above) of the Kenya bean, taken just a couple of weeks ago. Now here (below) is a picture of her dad, Buddy, from Deep Run Retrievers in Virginia:

It's amazing to me how much Kenya, though petite and tiny, still looks like her dad -- someone she hasn't seen or been around since she was six weeks old.

This weekend I accompanied my 84-year-old mother to an old friend's birthday party (the old friend was also turning 84) who still lives in the town where I grew up two hours north of here. I haven't seen many of these people for at least 30 years. After the party we also visited some cousins I also haven't seen in many, many years.

Without exception, these people took one look at me and said they saw my father (who died in 2003). Apparently something about my eyes, head, and mannerisms reminded them of Dad. Whether he intended to or nor, Dad passed something of himself on to me that I reflect to the world long after his death.

That got me thinking: What of myself will the world see in my children in the years to come? Or for that matter (don't laugh here) what will others see in our canine kids that reflect us and our values and lifestyle? Will our kids and canines become "good" citizens, influencers for good in their worlds?

In other words, just what exactly am I passing on (intentionally or unintentionally) to those I influence most?

My prayer is that it will be things that make the world a better place (or that make the Labrador breed a better breed).

I want my existence to mean something and (in some small way) to improve things for future generations, human or canine.

That's no easy task, but neither is it impossible. We can make a difference, even if it's only in one life at one time in one small part of this planet.

And if we all endeavored to do so, the world truly could become a better place.

Here's to influencing our worlds, no matter how small, for the better,

'Til next time,
Joan

Springtime in PA (a weather whine)

Okay. Now it's getting downright silly.

In January we had more sixty-plus-degree days than we had "winter" days.

In February we final had snow and cold temps (so cold, the dogs couldn't play outside).

Three weeks ago, it was 20-below-zero (F) with wind chill factors;

two weeks ago it was 75 degrees (F) warm and sunny outside;

last week we were back to single-digit temps and below-zero wind chills.

And Friday we endured another major winter storm (complete with accumulating snow and ice).

It looks like winter thaw again here.

While frozen ground and snow blankets provide a reprieve from the mud factor (see previous post), these extremes in temperature (warm, cold, summer-like, arctic-like) create more-than-ripe conditions for people to get sick.

Yup, me included. I got sick again.

But I'm back...again...hopefully to stay.

How's the weather in your neck of the woods?

'Til next time,

Joan

The Mud Factor

If you read Elsie's comment on the last week (previous post), you'll know I've been sick for the last week (a really nasty stomach/intestinal virus that lasted six full days - yuk). Today I'm rebounding pretty well, but am still weak and tired. My stamina should be quick to return, though; I tend to be pretty strong and healthy most of the time (how grateful I am for that!).

In the meantime, there are no sickdays for "moms" of canine kids (or of the human kind, for that matter). Labs, like children, don't stop needing care just because we humans get flus.

And it's spring here in PA, so it's mud season. Well, for Labs, it's mud season all year long, except when the ground is too frozen to yield the sticky stuff.

And mud is a huge factor when you have sixteen Lab legs romping in it. We won't even mention tails and muzzles.

Last week, while battling my virus, I could barely stay vertical long enough crate or uncrate the dogs, let alone deal with muddy paws and underbellies. Dear hubby was in CA on business so I was on my own.

But the canine kids still needed exercise (thankfully we have a fenced yard). So out they went to romp in the mud.

That I could deal with, even sick. Their playing outdoors actually allowed my some rest without having to crate them.

Ahhh. But then it was time for them to come in.

Mud.

Blech.

And when you're nauseated to begin with, well... you get the idea.

So what did I do?

I whipped out the tools of the season: Quikclean Waterless Shampoo and Quick Bath wipes just for dogs (these and tons of old bath towels we keep just for the canine kids).

What a relief it was to have a quick, easy means of bathing the kids when my stamina wouldn't allow for the major undertaking of regular baths for them as they came in from the mud flats outside.

:o)

Hopefully this week will prove to be better on the health front. At least today I can focus my eyes and stay upright without getting dizzy (that's a good thing).

And I can romp a little with the kidlets. I've missed playing with them (although they've lathered me, quite literally, with their concern).

I'll give it another day or two, and then we can romp in style.

The mud, however, we can do without.

'Til next time,

Joan

Elsie's Perspective on the Last Week

Elsie: "Bummers. Mom's been sick for, like, six days now. :( She can't play with us like she normally does. All she does is hang out on the couch and run to the bathroom. At least I can curl up on her feet and help her feel better."

Free Inside! The Other Things that Come with Labs

Before we bring our Labs home for the first time, we research the breed (well, I hope so, if we're wise) so we have an idea of what to expect. We plan on housebreaking and potty training and teaching them what to (and not to) chew. We assume they'll be lively and affectionate and reasonably healthy (though, we also rightly plan to incur some vet bills beyond check-ups and maintenance). We know they'll come with the need for a huge investment of our time, affection, attention, care, training, input, discipline, and reward.

Ahh...but then there are those things we didn't know about and couldn't know until we had Labs of our own.

For all you folks out there who are just thinking about getting a Lab (or just doing your research), consider yourselves warned.

And for you Lab owners out there, feel free to add to this list via the comments link below. I'd love to know what came with your canine companions.

Here's what came with mine:

• more slobbery large-tongued kisses than I hoped for or imagined


• more slobbery kisses offered in places I never conceived of (think wet-willy and human ears)


• a plentiful supply of saliva-soaked tennis balls dropped with eagerness at my feet (my hands will never need moisturizers again)
• a plentiful supply of saliva-soaked anything dropped at my feet (you name it, it's probably been one of my Labs exuberant offerings to me)


• the need to invest in 3m stock because of all the 3m-lint-rollers we use up retrieving dog hair from our clothes and furniture during shedding seasons (who's supposed to be the retriever here, anyway?). Oh, and that's after regular brushing sessions.


• an endless supply of automatic foot-warmers: all I have to do is sit down, and one of our four Lab-kids will plunk a head or rear or chest on my feet


• an endless supply of lap-warmers (see previous, but change "my feet" to "my lap")


• free showers on hot summer days (just supply the kiddie pool, lake, marsh, swamp, puddle, stream, bathtub, sprinkler, or any other water source, and you've got your Lab-powered shower)


• more heart-warming and giggle-inducing moments than I ever dreamed


• terrific photo ops (better than any I've seen in National Geographic or Life magazines)


• an audible security system (just try sneaking up on our house -- anywhere, any side of the house, any door, any window, and porch or deck; we'll know, believe me)


• a built-in, deep-seated comfort when I'm home alone at night (see previous entry)


• a motion-activated mood sensor (boy, are Labs intuitive!); all I have to do is walk into a room and they know what mood I'm in


• more comfort and therapy than I could buy if I went to a thousand therapists or counselors or psychiatrists (see previous entry)


• better incentive to run the vacuum regularly than my in-laws coming to visit


• a great weight-loss plan (increased exercise and food-sharing)


• more life lessons (see yesterday's blog entry) than those I could glean from the wisest of sages
  

That's enough for now (yes, my Labs came with a host more of other things, about which I'll post another time).

What came "free inside" your Lab packages?

'Til next time,

Joan

10 More Life Lessons from Labs

1. Love exuberantly; don't be afraid to show affection.

2. Feel free to sit back and relax sometimes.

3. Wait patiently for good things.

4. Take the road less traveled; it's more interesting and rewarding.

5. Remember this: to enjoy life, you sometimes have to get your feet dirty.

6. Don't be afraid to receive what's offered to you; your gracious acceptance becomes a gift to the giver.

7. It's okay to hide now and then...

...as long as you remember to take your friends with you.

8. A nap is a good thing; don't feel guilty.

9. We all need affection.

10. Sometime we lead; other times we follow. The important thing is to stay in the race.

Hope

Here's what greets me when I come in from the mailbox: four eager faces waiting for to the treat they receive from our mail lady each day (yes, she leaves four doggie biscuits in our mailbox with every mail delivery -- bless her heart!).

They're so hopeful.

They look forward with joy-filled anticipation to the good they expect to come.

And they're rarely disappointed.

Unlike humans.

Read what happened to me yesterday (at my other blog), when my longed-for hope was dashed.

I won't rewrite it here. But know this: "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life" (Proverbs 13:12).

Here's to hope fulfilled!

'Til next time,

Joan

Spring = Outdoors = OhBoyOhBoyOhBoy!

Well it's finally warm enough for the canine kiddos to enjoy being outside for more than just a few minutes at a time.

When wind chills are 20-below zero (F), which they have been for much of February here, it's dangerously cold even for our well-coated friends. During those cold snaps, they go outside to "get busy" and that's about it.

And then they get cabin fever. :o)

So, since temps bumped up into the 40s, Daddy-Don took Elsie and Baxter out for a good, long, psuedo-training walk and romp in the fields and woods near our home.

Just look how happy the Elsie-girl is:

Elsie is all Lab, no doubt about it. She possesses the strongest retrieving instincts of our crew (although our little Kenya-bean is looking VERY promising). And she and Baxter are best off-lead when Don takes them out (Ridge is best on-lead).

They all love being outdoors.

I'm so glad it's warm enough to get them outside for training and exercise again. :o)

Now, if only we could do something about all that mud.

'Til next time,

Joan

The Morning Rush

When folks in southeastern PA (or anywhere in the mid-Atlantic corridor) talk about "the morning rush" they're usually referring to traffic. From DC to Boston "morning rush" means highway congestion and long drives for commuters scurrying to get to work on time.

I will say, despite its challenges, working from an office at home has its benefits.

Avoiding the "morning rush," however, isn't one of them.

No, my morning rush may not include four-wheeled vehicles competing for positional superiority on the Turnpike, but it does include four-legged canines vying for positional advantage by my side.

It's the "oh-boy-it's-morning-and-we're-so-happy-to-see-you-since-it's-been-so-long-since-we-saw-you-last-night-and-we're-just-so-happy-to-see-you-again-and-we-just-want-you-to-know-just-how-happy-we-really-are-to-see-you-so-please-pet-us-and-talk-to-us-and-scratch-our-ears-and-let-us-lean-on-you-and-lick-you-and-sit-on-your-feet-and-paw-you" morning rush.

And Baxter, Elsie, Ridge, and Kenya rush me together, wanting 100% of my attention the minute I step into the kitchen for the first time each morning. :o)

Hmmm...that's about 320 pounds of combined-Lab-wiggle jockeying for who can get closest.

Now that's what I call a morning rush (in every sense of the word).

And it's a great way to begin the day.

'Til next time,

Joan

The Many Faces of Elsie, Part 1