Tuesday, January 20, 2009

The Way We're Wired

We had unexpected snow yesterday: just a couple inches, but enough to cling to tree trunks and weigh down evergreen branches in ways reminiscent of Christmas card scenes.

Since we don't often get pretty snow here (it's more often slush or ice), I went outside this morning to capture a few pictures, then found myself puzzling:

What's this short trail on the deck?
Did DH come out and shovel this, and if so, why just this narrow swath?

We don't own a shovel this small, so what the heck was he using?
And why would he do that anyway?

Here's what I wondered about:


It took me all of about two seconds to realize what made the path (in the picture, follow the trail to its end at the railing): a water bowl

Yup, one of the canine kids (probably Rudy, Pinot, or Tuc, all of whom love playing in water bowls and chewing up ice) undoubtedly found the water frozen and, in their attempts to get the water (or ice) out, nosed the bowl all the way to the deck's other side.

And yes, they did get the ice out.

Silly kids.

They're just doing as Labs do.

Labrador retrievers are wired to be intelligent, curious, playful, inquisitive, active, persevering, and optimistic (among other things including loving, affectionate, loyal, etc.). Like the boy in the old joke who finds himself neck-deep in horse manure but who happily digs there because he's sure he'll find a horse in the pile somewhere, Labs keep at it and don't complain. Ever the optimists, they just keep trying. They don't give up.

They push figurative frozen water bowls to the other side of the deck everyday, and they're quite happy to do so.

I love my Labs. And I so often wish I were more like them.

But I have to remember that canines and humans are wired differently. And that's as it should be; it's the way we're made.

Take today, for example. It's the first day in nine months that I've been alone -- as in, no other human beings in the house. And I'm relishing every second of it! It feels like absolute liberation to me. Truth be told, I'm an introvert: that is, I'm recharged by being alone (most people wouldn't suspect this about me). When I go too long without my alone-time, I wither. And I've been withering inside for months now.

Don't get me wrong: I love DH to the nth degree and like nothing better than a quiet evening spent with him. I love my kids wholeheartedly, I love having them around, and I miss them when they're away (yes, btw, DFS was able to go back to school and did two days ago - yay! - we're really happy for him). I love my friends and am able to laugh with them 'til my face and sides hurt or I can hardly breathe. I love my extended family and church family and ministry partners and the other people with whom I find myself in regular contact. And I enjoy being with them all.

But, unlike Labs and many people, I need time alone.

I'm learning that I need to pay more attention to how I'm wired -- and accept it for what it is. I need to give myself grace to be who I am.

I would never, for example, expect one of my Labs to behave, say, like a Great Dane or an Australian Cattle Dog or a German Shorthaired Pointer (or I'd be incredibly foolish if I did). Though they are all canines, genetically they are very different breeds with very different temperaments. Labs behave like Labs, as they should. They can do no other.

So why do I expect myself to run like a Greyhound when I'm more like a Newfie?

Silly me.

I'm glad my gang is my gang, and that they are designed to be pack animals.

The girls need the girls (all of these pics were taken over the last several days):



The boys need the boys:

They all need each other (in the first shot below Ridge is under the coffee table next to Pinot's hind legs out of view, and in the second photo Ridge is off-camera to the right):



And they need us, too.

Yup, it's in their nature to thrive as pack animals (whether the pack is human or canine).

And it's really okay that it's in my nature to need time alone.

Note to self: quit feeling guilty and beating yourself up for not being an energetic extrovert. Just accept who you are and be who you were made to be, and you'll do just fine.


'Til next time,
Joan

Monday, January 19, 2009

Rudy and the Gigunda Bone

Five-month-old Rudy absolutely loves knuckle bones (he's teething, too, so I suspect that has something to do with it).






He loves these bones so much, in fact, that he believes all knuckle bones in the world belong to him (envision toddlers and the word "mine"!).

No, Pinot, that's mine!



No, Tuc, that's mine!


No, Kenya, that's mine!



To ensure fairness and equality, each gets his own knuckle bone when we get them (six dogs, six bones). And they're huge (the bones). Yet, as far as the little squirt is concerned, it doesn't matter that the bones barely fit into Rudy's mouth:


They're all his.

Mind you, he's never aggressive about it -- sweet little boy that he is. He readily lets the big dogs take things from him all the time. And he never challenges the big dogs over their bones.

He just waits, and then cautiously sneaks in for a stealth removal when they're not looking, or an outright steal when they're distracted by something else. Here he is after Pinot ran after something else leaving her bone behind:

Oh boy, did she really leave it here? I'd better be careful...

Is the coast clear?


Yes, I got it, oh happy day!
Oh boy, is this fun!

And look! The Gang's not even paying attention to me! Oh boy!



It's mine. All gloriously mine!

[and with apologies to Dr. Suess]...

About the gang, I do not care

As long as I don't have to share.



Yup, that's our Rudy boy. :o)

Ya gotta luv 'im!

[Sidenote: Isn't Rudy handsome in his new red collar? And now he's a "real" boy -- he has an official name tag, too!]

'til next time,
Joan

Sunday, January 18, 2009

The Arizona Boy Loves Snow


In honor of today's NFC championship game being held in Arizona (go Eagles!), it seemed fitting to update you all on our Arizona boy, Tuc (aka Tucson) who came to us from his fabulous breeder located just outside of Tucson, AZ.

The Tuc-meister is eight months old now (do you believe it!), and though born and puppy-raised in the sunny, dry, always-warm southwest, he absolutely loves cold temperatures and snow!

He loves doing just about anything in the snow.

He loves plowing over Rudy in the snow:


He loves helping DH refill bird-feeders in the snow:


He loves sitting and watching the world go by in the snow:


He loves digging for and pushing things around in the snow:


He loves running from Kenya in the snow:


He loves two-stepping in the snow:


He loves teasing Pinot in the snow:


He loves quick-stopping in the snow (whoooaaaa -- you should see him slide!):


He loves high-tailing-it in the snow:


He loves chasing Pinot in the snow:


He loves pouncing in the snow:


He loves waltzing in the snow:


He loves running with the pack in the snow:


He loves chilling on the deck in the snow:


He loves galloping in the snow:


He loves standing in the snow:


He loves yucking-it-up in the snow:



But his all-time favorite thing to do in the snow (and he does this daily -- several times a day, in fact) is to hang out on the hammocks (or the frozen blanket) with a favorite chew item -- often chunks of ice from the frozen water bowls, but in these pictures it's a bone:

What a big, happy-go-lucky galoot he is (like Baxter and Rudy combined!).

Oh, and BIG he is: he's now taller and longer than all of our canines in residence (and catching up to Baxter who lives in Maine). And, as of today (on our scales), he weighs 79.4 pounds (just a half-pound shy of 80 pounds -- at 8 months old -- oh my!). And he's not overweight (he's fit and trim).

I think he's gonna be like my Baxter Boos -- a big, sweet, wiggly goofball. I love 'em that way.

But if he gets too much bigger, we're not going to be able to use him as a studly -- we'd like him to stay within breed standard if we're going to use him to sire any litters.

So, okay, Tuc: you can stop growing now. We'll take you just the way you are (snow-loving bouncy boy and all -- just not any bigger!). :o)

'Til next time,
Joan

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Hippo Birdie 2 Ewe :o)

Today is DFS's 25th birthday. My bouncing baby boy turns a quarter-century old today (ha! but I still haven't hit the half-century mark -- soon -- but not yet -hehe)!

Can someone please tell me, Where did those years go?

In honor of DFS's special day, a day in which we truly celebrate who he is and how he's enriched our lives, I thought I'd post a few "then"" shots of the canine crew -- a trip down memory lane, if you will (I am allowed to reminisce, am I not?).

How time flies!

Here's the gang over the years (you already know what they look like now). All of these photos capture them between 6.5 and 10 weeks of age. :o) I can hardly believe they're so grown up now (nor can I believe I have human kids ALL in their twenties, and one who's turning 25!). Eeee-gads!

So here they are:

Ridge in 2001 at 9-10 weeks old (before he came to live with us -- he came to us in 2004 as a 3 yo):


Baxter in December, 2003:




Elsie in Fall 2005:




Kenya in Fall 2006:




Pinot in Fall 2007 (just 14 months ago):



Tuc in July 2008 (just six months ago, and yes, that's the old man, DFS whose birthday it is today, with Tuc in the first shot below):




And the little Rudy squirt, in November 2008 (just two months ago):



Sometimes I wish I could make time stand still. But only sometimes.

I'm learning to treasure them all in every season of their lives -- and that includes the human kidlets in their twenties, too.

So happy birthday, Dan-o! We love you, Bud, and we're proud of you.

'Til next time,
Joan (aka Mom)