The Joy of Sadie: Part Two

Snoozeville

On June 9th, Sadie will be six months old. I have trouble comprehending that she has only been with us since February 15th because she has had such a positive impact on our household. Me, especially. I do not think I realized how much I was missing a four legged companion until Sadie took over my days. When she first came home, I put everything on hold - volunteering, Bible Study, coffee dates - to care for this pinecone colored fur ball. Like a relationship gone bad, this poor girl came with lots of baggage. I felt like every time we turned a healing corner, I was being called back to the baggage claim for one more thing that comes with a rescue puppy. We survived worms that were trying to suck the life out of her. Urinary tract infections. Upset tummy moments. A non-contagious yet aggressive form of mange that requires a liquid dose of medicine to be squirted down her throat for not weeks....months. But Sadie takes all of these interruptions in stride. Her vet, Dr. Stolz, who loves her to the moon and back, mentioned to Sadie that, "she could just come visit. She doesn't have to keep coming up with new things so she can come see everyone. We would love just a drop in hello!". Sigh. So would our checkbook.

Sadie, the  Big Brown Dog

Walk me or I chew. Your call.

But in between all of these hiccups during our first three months, Sadie has burrowed deep into the heartbeat of our house. She is playful, smart, sassy, belligerent, curious, quick, awkward, sweet, cuddly, beautiful and hilarious. We have watched a round, squished pug nose slowly stretch out to a narrow, box shaped super sniffer. We have watched her stubby, chunky legs grow long and lean to fit into her paws that at times, overwhelmed her running ability, leaving her splayed and dazed on the kitchen floor. We have listened to her pitiful whimper as she unsuccessfully tried to overcome homemade blockades. Those same blockades are now 100% ineffective. And the whimper has transformed into a smart bark that demands quick attention to either, "Outside!" or "Play!". She does not take no for an answer. We have watched a timid puppy dig her paws deep into the ground as we attempted to take her on her first adventure down our street. For weeks we had to carry her down the road until we hit our neighborhood greenway. Then she would happily plod along the half-mile circle. Now she understands "Walk?" and impatiently waits us to gather shoes, leashes and poo bags so she can cover a three mile adventure chasing anything with fur and feathers. We have watched her tap a front paw into a cool creek and then run off in the other direction. Now she wants to chase a tennis ball in Bond Lake, sometimes, fully submerged. She has learned sit, down, stay, ok, kennel, outside, walk, heel and good girl, but these are totally used at her discretion and not on command. Kennel usually entails a huge chase around the house and strategically closed doors and moved furniture so I can grab her by the scruff of her neck and point her in the right direction. Finally, tail up, she prances into her "dog cave" to rest while the house becomes uninhabited for a brief spell.


Mommy's Little Helper

Sending Birthday Greetings

Bond Park

Sadie adores Josh and views him more of an equal than a dog/human relationship. They play Tyrannosaurus Rex versus Triceratops. On more than one occasion, I have walked back out of a room I recently entered because I do not want to become entangled in their Greco style wrestling match. They play hide and seek, chase, and fetch. They rest together and they laugh A LOT together. And they get in trouble together, with eyes sparkling and tongues lolling out of their mouths with an expression that says, "So worth it!". Josh and Sadie are the definition of a boy and his dog. I imagine they will be best buds for years to come, even as the wildness of youth subsides.
Anna and Sadie enjoy walks, gab fests and the battle of wills. I can't hedge a bet on either being victorious, but this will be no quick and easy battle. Anna is a dutiful young caretaker of Sadie. She feeds her, fills her water bowl, takes her outside, tries to teach her tricks and takes her for short walks around the neighborhood. Their relationship is different than Josh and Sadie, but I believe Sadie will provide great relief to Anna during the angst ridden years of Middle School which is only one year in the future. And I think Sadie will happily oblige filling those shoes for her sister.

My co-pilot *

David loves his weekend morning walks with Sadie. He enjoys watching her ears rise and her paw draw up as she spies a creature moving in the leaves above or the pine straw below. He enjoys watching her wrestle other neighborhood dogs or explain to her for the millionth time why some dogs just don't want a paw swiped across their nose. He enjoys the brief training segments and the success of his efforts. He enjoys the natural cadence of their steps, leaving the stress of children, work and home life (aka wife) behind and welcoming the respite of nature to his morning routine. Sadie is David's yoga, a living, breathing Downward Dog.
But for me, Sadie is my healer. This tiny pup that grew slowly in stature and weight has quickly taken over my heart. A loneliness had set up residence in my head and heart with the passing of Mason and Dixon and the exit of Anna and Josh to school full time. Somehow, I was unaware of this new tenant until a quirky, playful puppy came home with us one day in February and immediately ordered this unwanted guest OUT! There was no room for a freeloader named Debbie Downer any longer. Sadie and I now stand at the front door together, sending David and the children off to work and school. We take little road trips to discover new parks, trails and friends. We take long walks. We turn the music up really loud and run around the house, daring each other to tucker out first. We hang out on the couch together and occasionally, I will invite her to keep me company on my bed while I read or watch a program on the iPad. As I look at Sadie now, splayed out like a seal with her head stretching out between her front paws and her back legs stretching out long behind her, I watch her rhythmic breathing and her contented sleep. She has come a long way in her short life. Together, through the harsh winter and late spring, we grew, healed and found our place in the world. With the addition of her into our family, Sadie swiftly reminded us the most important gift we can give or receive is love. And to the person who decided they did not need Sadie, I say "thank you" because she found four people who did - and we are joyful every day for the happiness she pours into our home. Woof!
*please note Sadie does not ride in the front seat of our car - this photo was for website picture purposes only.

Queen Sadie - five months



The Joy of Gardening

We have resided in our house on the hill for one year. With the purchase of our welcoming green house that sits up high on the cul de sac, we gained a beautiful and intimidating garden. With each previous house we have decided to make a home, I have created intricate and breathtaking landscapes in my head. And then reality intervened and well, either I did not have the income or I did not have the dedicated time or realistically, both. But, last April, when we settled into our lovely house in Cary, some of my visions came to fruition. We are now the proud owners of a double decked stone walled garden that constantly blooms. Doesn't that sound divine? Oh. My. Gosh. The weeds. The fertilizing. The pruning. The dead heading and no that does not mean following a Jerry Garcia Band around the country. The splitting of bulbs. The replanting. The mulch. The analyzing. The geometric shapes. Oh, why did I NOT pay attention to high school geometry?!? The realization hits me hard that I am so not a gardener but more someone who needs an income to afford a gardener and then take all the credit. Sigh. Right now, as I sit here typing these words, I am overlooking my beautiful garden in the dim glow of porch lights and a very unnatural computer glow and I have to say, "Job well done today!". The garden, at this very moment, is a sight to behold. And maybe, just maybe, I can do this whole gardening thing.

Our "Dr. Seuss"

Early in the spring we welcomed a bunch of tulips that blazed orange and yellow. The tall dancing flowers called people to look at our constant garden sunset. This week, Irises in various shades of pink, purple and blue purple stand proud and unwavering before their stems give way to the heavy blooms that lead them tragically to the ground. We have a delightful plant I have named Dr. Suess. I have no idea what type of species this beautiful creature belongs to, but she takes all spring to sprout and then she lasts for only two short days. She is tall, slender, whimsical and completely unique. We love her. We have butterfly bushes and trees. We have tiger lilies with baby buds. We have hydrangeas, tea roses and lavender. And we have lots of shrubs that I have yet to identify but add dimension and color to the landscape.
Today I spent a great deal of time in the garden. I have let our garden sit for a season so I can determine what I like, what I do not, what needs to be replanted, what needs to be removed and what needs to be added. The time today was completely therapeutic. The thick, husky scent of overturned dirt that imbedded itself underneath my nails and inside the wrinkled beds of skin on my hands. The sun warming my back and arms while beads of sweat bubbled up on my skin. For a day, I dug up weeds and unwanted plants. I wiped my brow. I stepped back studied the changes. I sketched in my head the possibilities of next year and I became excited. With every pull of a stubborn weed, I claimed new territory and exalted the beauty that God has bestowed in front of me. I am his servant after all, tending his world, his garden. My payment is the beauty that comes from the tending, the tilling, the toiling and the treading. And the simple discoveries. This morning, we found a small turtle taking refuge underneath the leaves of the purple blooming butterfly bush. I watched worms clinging to clumps of sod that came out with the roots of dandelions and other stubborn weeds. Butterflies fluttered and chased one another. Bees buzzed and hovered. Birds swooped. Salamanders scurried. And probably a few things I am glad I missed  that slithered, zipped and popped along.
I have a long way to go with our garden to make it my own. I would like to turn part of the area into a herb garden and maybe add some vegetables. The woman before me raised butterflies so her garden is filled with flowers, bushes and plants that attract those beautiful insects but my heart does not carry the same passion. Instead, I look forward to creating a new landscape for our house on the hill. One that tells the story of us and reminds me that in each of us lies a gardener waiting to joyfully bloom. Until we weed again......



The Joy of Be-YOU-tiful

A little reminder from a be-YOU-tiful group of women.

As the wise Dr. Seuss stated, "Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.". Yet, somehow, we all try to be someone else or be a better "me". We try to be neater. We try to be more stylish. We try to be more organic, healthier, funnier, wittier, Dyno-Mom, Hot Wife and best BFF EVER! We try to save more money than last month. We try to fold the laundry when the dryer buzzer calls us. We find ways to earn money without disturbing the family schedule. We try new recipes made with fresh ingredients served on real plates. We try to best Pinterest, post fun facts to Facebook and tweet itty bitty thoughts on Twitter. We try to diagnose Miley Cyrus and Lindsay Lohan. We bake cookies for playdates and dinners for new Moms because we are trying to be June Cleaver in the 21st Century. We pack lunches, prepare snacks, read books, review homework, attempt Common Core Math problems and sign permission slips. We try to be the most amazing co-worker, boss, manager on the planet. All while smiling prettily because gosh knows someone might be snapping their SmartPhone and pasting an Instagram photo of you with your skirt tucked in your underwear while waiting in line at the grocery store with the caption: "Yeah, this is real, people!". Sigh.
Guess what? You are being exactly who you should be because the world needs you, exactly as you were made. You are somebody's jelly to their peanut butter. You are somebody's tomato sauce to their spaghetti noodle. You are the missing piece to an amazing puzzle. Even on your worst day ever, you are exactly where you need to be cleaning up the messes that perhaps someone else made. Because you are you and you are to be loved, endeared and hugged...a lot.
Back in my career days at a creative event planning agency, we had weekly staff meetings to keep everyone current on what was happening in the office. I have to say, our ladies in charge did a good job of making sure things did not get stale in the board room. But one of my favorite times was when we were each given a blank strip of paper and the following instructions. We were to write our name at the top of the paper and then pass the paper to our left. When the strip of paper came to us with someone's else's name written on top, we were to write down our favorite quality about that person. Fold the paper up so our answer was hidden and pass to the left until our little piece of tightly folded paper slid back in front of us. We were not to open until we returned to our desk. Our agency was small - we had 10-12 full time employees and maybe an intern or two milling around our cubicles. And one male, so imagine the anticipation to move through the meeting quickly. Women have a hard time waiting to open up anything, much less a piece of paper with compliments listed. That was probably our fastest staff meeting in history. Before we adjourned, we were told this paper was not to go home. Not to be shoved in our wallets or purse. Not crumpled up and tossed in a waste can but to find a home in the top drawer of our desk so we could be reminded that even on our worst day, we had special qualities. And that someone thought enough of that unique quality to write it down - just for you.
I will tell you that piece of paper became tattered and worn and sadly, I have no idea where that quality list is hiding on this given day. But, as all of us know, we have our bad days when we feel unloved, unwanted, unforgiven, unknown and undone. Wouldn't it be nice to have a little list to remind us why we are special? Wouldn't it be nice to sit down and look at words that describe you and only you? Wouldn't it be nice to do that for someone you know - just out of the blue? Well, Mother's Day is just a few short days away. And just a fun little gift to think about sending, even if it's through email. We make those to do lists, those grocery lists, those errand lists and blah, blah, blah. Wouldn't it be fun to make a joyful list for someone else? Wouldn't it be fun to feel the joy spread through your heart as you remember all the wonderful things that makes this person "you"-nique? Special enough that their name made a very important list that will never be published for the world, but will be treasured like a first edition work of art. A list that everyone is dying to be on, truly.
As you end your day today, remember you are be-YOU-tiful. You are "YOU-nique". And as I overheard a woman say to her daughter the other day, "No boy should ever ask you to change. You were made special and someone out there will see that specialness and want to treasure you as God intended. You, darlin', are like no one else in this world. Don't ever forget that - ever.". I wanted to hug this Mom and let her know she was making the world a more be-YOU-tiful place. And I can't wait to tell my daughter these exact words - with a joyful heart, of course. So go on, let the be-YOU-tification project begin and remember: "Today you are YOU, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is YOUER than You."