2.24.2017

February 24, 2017

White Dog agreed Zsofia HAS grown into her ears beautifully and is now a stunning example of Darkest White Dogness.  "From EVERY angle," Zso added.

Zsofia sniffed. "Thank you for noticing."

2.23.2017

February 23, 2017

White Dog laughed. "I wondered for the longest time whether our Itty Bitty Baby Girl would EVER grow into those ears!"

2.22.2017

February 22, 2017

White Dog Wordless Wednesday...Guess who has a new harness?

February 21, 2017

White Dog gently pulled me away from the desk. Stormer walked against the back of my legs as she led me to our chair in the living room and jumped into my arms.

My cough with its nasty snapping sound brought the entire Army to my feet. It had come out of nowhere in the middle of the night. All looked from me to the phone as I sounded another rolling wave of coughing. "Momma, CALL and make an appointment to see the Physician's Assistant, PLEASE. This is not a cold cough and I don't want you to develop a full blown case of bronchitis." The WDA agreed, "You sound scary and we want you healthy."

I was not running a fever, nor was I ache-y beyond the exertion from coughing. But frankly the cough and the heavy weight on my chest had me a little concerned as well so I reached around WD and picked p the phone. "Make it very first thing," WD instructed.

I managed to book an appointment for 7:30 and hang up before exploding into another coughing fit.

"Good," White Dog said. "Now you need to try and rest." The Army, without instruction from WD, took up positions of protection and care giving circling me. When I complained there was no way to curl up without coughing, Opal and Trixie dragged over extra pillows and the blanket from Stormer's bed to tuck around me and prop me up.

Suddenly, the idea of a nap sounded pretty darn good.

Update Wednesday: I do have bronchitis and was sent home with a cough suppressant. The PA had blood work drawn to make sure that was the only issue. He is treating the illness as viral so I am spared, thus far, additional medications but I have been cautioned to come back in if ANYTHING changes. So now I have 11 pairs of eyes staring intently at me watching for change.

2.20.2017

February 20, 2017

White Dog suddenly pushed my hand away and then sniffed it suspiciously. I had been petting her while I worked at the computer, not totally focused on her but finding comfort in her fur beneath my hand. Her sudden rejection made me look down.

She looked up at me, concerned. I didn't get it. WD pawed at my wrist and poked me with her nose. I drew my hand up to my keyboard but still did not immediately see what she was attempting to tell me.

With a sigh, the Little White Dog of My Heart stood on my leg and grabbed my wrist gently. If she could have with the mouthful of me also said something, it would have been a huge "DUH!"

On my right wrist I wear a leather band that says, "Be Brave." Above it I wear a yellow collar that says, "She believed she could so she did."  It was the yellow piece that concerned her.

Over time, this metal engraved plate has been worn on a leather thong, a braided thread band, and a metal bracelet. None proved to be durable enough for constant wear. A while back, when the last wrap broke, YoYoMa suggested that I needed a dog collar; his, he pointed out, has been his accessory for all of the years he has been a member of the White Dog Army. The others laughed at the notion of momma with a collar but he got me to thinking.

Next time I went to the pet boutique I looked at collars...and found a kitten collar that perfectly fit my wrist. I brought it home and handstitched the metal plate to the collar and snapped it around my wrist. The WDA was seriously pleased at my solution and the connection it made, abstractly, to them. I added a charm to the leash loop reminding my that "My Story Isn't Over Yet" and my "collar" now even jingled like those worn by the Army.

White Dog's reaction today was her attempt to let me know that the threads holding one side of the plate to the band had broken through and was swinging precariously; it would not take much for the other side to fail and my talisman would be lost.

I am not sure whether the look of relief on her face as I swiveled and reached for the sewing kit was that the repair would be accomplished promptly or that she had FINALLY gotten me to to understand.

2.19.2017

February 19, 2017

White Dog was in an "I am bored with eating the same thing" mood so the news that today was "Dibs and Dabs" Day sparked her interest. And if WD was excited about tonight's meal...EVERY pup knew it was going to be special.

This had been a week of leftovers and changes in last minute plans that resulted in lots of containers resting in the refrigerator with a need to be used. Most were not enough for an entire meal, but rather American tapas of a sort. The plan was, a Steve pulled containers and wrapped things from the shelves, to cobble together plates with an assortment of noshes from the stash and each of us would get a unique meal.

"Look, half a container of cottage cheese," Steve said, "cut fruit. a bit of three cheeses. couscous. stir fry vegetables in peanut sauce. asparagus stuffed chicken. My goodness! There are LOTS of goodies."

He was busy pulling out Greek yogurt and remains from the crisper and was not focused on the White Dog Army sorting out between themselves who was claiming exactly which treasures would top their kibble. It was serious discussion, trading, give-and-take.

Except for the lamb, almond and date meatballs. Not one pup counter bid White Dog's claim on those.

"Oh man," Steve sighed as he reached deep into the cold box, "I forgot all about the custard tart! There are only a few berries puckering, the crust is ok and the custard is good; it got pushed way to the back where it is coldest. But it HAS to be eaten or lost." He felt the heat of the Army as they pressed forward, all volunteering to sacrifice their taste buds for the good of the family. I promised all would get a sliver for dessert. I heard Steve from the kitchen ask, "Me, too?"

A short time later, bowls were delivered to a VERY hungry WDA...and I received a plate that included half a chili baked potato, lemon  mushrooms and green beans, and a petite mixed greens salad. Steve had homemade guacamole and chips, strips of rosemary chicken and feta wrapped in flat bead and a salad of cucumbers with grape tomatoes. I looked around and saw the White Dogs checking out each other's bowls...and no one complained about Steve's selection for their personalized meal.

Over tart, White Dog looked up and smiled. "That was a perfect break from the routine dad! you are an awesome chef!" The others agreed. Steve smiled and opened the refrigerator door. All of the little containers were gone. "Now we have room to go grocery shopping and we did not waste a single thing. Thank you all for your help."

2.18.2017

February 18, 2017

White Dog and the White Dog Army expected  yummy noshes when Steve and I returned from Health Fair that Paws To People participated in...and they were appreciated by all. But the bees...now those were a surprise that appealed to just a few.

Long ago, WD received an interactive toy that was a cloth beehive filled with little stuffed bees. The point was the pup would figure out to pull out the insects to play with them individually...and as she became more skilled would actually learn how to return the bees to the holes to put them back into their home. White Dog mastered this in no time flat.

Most of the others prefer just playing with the bees, that each squeaks. When Opal joined us the hive was resurrected as a depository for the torn off wings, heads and surviving bits. We were overjoyed to discover our favorite pet place carried replacement bees.

With the arrival of Spring has come the need to awaken (replace) the bees gone dead over the winter. At the health fair our table happened to face the store's display that held those bees. Message received...

...and result immediately embraced...
The really question is, how long before the bees are silenced and wingless?

February 17, 2017

White Dog saw my distress at a day begun with the discovery our terra cotta house guardian that has watched out door for twenty years had been stolen and then was further darkened by a "meet and greet" with the new doctor my medical practice "assigned" to me when my skilled and proven doctor of so long retired to pursue his diabetes awareness advocacy. The new doctor was young, excellently credentialed, but defensive at my questioning her style and ideas about patient/doctor relationships. She is very much a product of insurance driven medicine and her responses were careful and vague. Her approach was not welcoming and she asked no questions of me. I am prepared for a BIG adjustment from the physician who had seen my health through so much but feel somewhat less than confident that my care will be as personal.

WD came into the office late in the morning to tell me the White Dog Army had a "surprise" that would make me feel better. Her tail wagged as she led me to the living room to see the "stress reliever" my pack had created for me.

Scattered across the carpet was the day's mail...a few bills and junk mail. Bella and Opal held envelopes in their paws as they tore off strips of the water bill and a political solicitation. But they had not acted alone. Sachi slept with his head on his contribution and Zsofia brought a torn corner from her efforts, resting on the bed. Amazingly the personal correspondence was untouched.

Stormer and Trixie had apparently been in charge of junk mail decluttering; theirs were much more colorful remains of the weekly sales fliers.

I smiled at the generous thought behind the destruction although inside I sighed at the cleanup and piecing together of the bills in particular. "Thank you, loves. You are all so thoughtful in trying to make me feel better. What would I do without you?"
 

2.16.2017

February 16, 2017

White Dog could not help but smile at the memory. "Taiko was SO devoted to dad," she said, "even when he walked he had to be touching him."

She recalled Taiko's signature habit of walking so close behind Steve that his head and shoulders were actually between Steve's legs as he moved. It was, she said, like watching some kid of modern dance, amazing in that Steve never stumbled nor Taiko tangled in the synchronized steps.

"I know, Taiko sure loved dad." I responded.  He always had to be in physical proximity to him; when Steve was at work Tai wold lie quietly by himself in the kitchen waiting for the sound of the car.

WD's face clouded over. "I thought dad would never stop crying when his boy was so suddenly struck down by the c monster. He just was not with us long enough."

I agreed. "But Little White Dog of My Heart? None of you will EVER be here long enough no matter if it is 100 years." She nodded slowly. "I am sure glad dad knows Tai lives in his heart forever and that our Taiko the Tender Hearted will never be forgotten."
Dad's most frequent view of Taiko

2.15.2017

February 15, 2017

White Dog Wordless Wednesday...love and thanks are perfect ANY day of the year! It is really special to be remembered in such a delicious way....