A Super Duper Kanine

Cooper was a year and a half years old when we adopted him from the local humane society. He is a blue tick coon hound mix. That means he is black and white. The coon hound part of him becomes very apparent whenever he decides to use his voice. Baying instead of the normal barking that I have grown used to having grown up with plenty of dogs around.

Coop had a bit of a rough start to life. When we rescued him, you could see all his bones. The humane society had put twenty pounds on him already and he was still so thin. We got right to work making sure he knew he never had to fight for his next meal or worry about when he would be fed again. His story from before coming home is a bit of an unknown thing. We know he came from Texas, and was so skinny, but other than that, there is just a big question mark. So I can’t say that anyone ever meant him harm, and I would like to think that he had a loving home that just couldn’t care for him and his brother. His brother was adopted out to a wonderful family around two weeks before Cooper joined our family.

River has become like a brother to him. That relationship was pretty quickly formed. I am guessing because Cooper was used to that dynamic. River is pretty much the same size as Cooper and they love to run around the backyard at top speed. There are patches of dirt that will never grow grass again due to the boys using those sections as racetrack. Cooper looks so graceful when he is running across the yard. He stretches out and can gain momentum with ease. It is a stark contrast to the goofy run he does when one of us humans call his name and he is happy to see us. If you remember the sort of run that Jack Sparrow did in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, then you have a pretty good idea.

It took about three days before he felt confident enough to use his voice. I was actually kind of startled when he first barked at River during a play session. Little steps along the way have shown his comfort level and confidence rising. His silly run, being so proud of himself when he knows what to do for a command, and giving lots of kisses, have been some of my favorite milestones that have come with nurturing Cooper. He really has come out of his shell, and shown us just how goofy and loving he really is.

These days, I am lucky enough to be one of his favorite people. Whenever I am playing games in the living room, he will hop up on my lap and demand hugs. This has lovingly become referred to as a Cooper Break. I must pause my game and snuggle with the boy for a bit. He will eventually get down from my lap and I may resume my game. Being reminded to take time to pause and enjoy the little things like hugs from a giant baby like Cooper, is one of the reasons that I am forever grateful to have him.

I saw on Facebook once, a picture of a dog looking out the window while laying on the window’s bench seat. They were mostly in shadow, because the sun was setting outside. The words on the picture read, “Sometimes I like to look over at my dog, and watch them enjoy the life I have given them.” I couldn’t help but think of Cooper and how much his life has changed since coming home. He is probably chewing on a toy while laying in the giant bean bag chair in our living room right now. He will never have any more worries in life. Just love.

Writer’s Block: Shake It Out

Being a writer is never a straight forward process. It requires creativity and inspiration. When I write, I have music playing, but it can’t have lyrics because then my mind will attach to those words and not the words on my page. It also can’t be too loud, or I get a bit overwhelmed by the noise.

Music is one thing that helps when I have writer’s block. I will be listening to music in the car while I drive, and scenes that I want to put in my book will pop up in my mind. Usually they are related to the song that I have playing but I try and use those ideas when they actually fit the flow of the story. Can’t just throw something in because I thought of it, it has to mesh with the rest of the plot line.

I also will put on music when I am really blocked. Stepping away from my keyboard, I will dance for a little bit. Nothing too crazy, but enough to shake up my body and the moment. Focusing on dancing and the music helps me feel a bit more energized. It might even spark emotions that I want to convey through my characters. The feeling of the music becomes a sound track that helps me get the creativity flowing again.

Another tactic is a change of scenery. For a while I was writing with a tower computer. I would sit at my desk and work on my book. Often this led to me having a hard time sitting still. I would swish back and forth in my chair, tap my finger on the desk, and stare off into space trying to think of something that was good enough to capture my attention again, to write about, to continue the story. Now that I have a laptop again, I can be found in multiple spaces around the house, working in a setting that just feels right for the day. I will be in my room, with the door closed, when I feel the need for space, or I will set up camp in one of the living room chairs when I want to feel like I am still part of the tempo of the house.

My pets are also a wonderful distraction. They have no preconceived right or wrong ideas of how to act, so having them around, and playing with them, will help me find a new angle to see things from. They make me laugh and pull me close when they want a hug. Sometimes all I need is to curl up with one of them for a moment and take a deep breath. I am forever grateful for them.

Writing a book takes patience, something I am still working on improving. Funny thing is, I tend to have more of that virtue when the creativity is flowing.

Morning Routines

Every morning I have the same steps to get ready for the day. Most days I get woken up by what my family has lovingly referred to as a Maggie pounce. Our cocker spaniel Maggie loves to run into my room, jump up on my bed and pounce on me. She proceeds to kiss my face until I give in and start to get up for the day. I can definitely think of worse ways to be woken up in the morning.

Erza follows the pup entourage and meows at me until I put her morning scoop of kibble into her bowl. She also gets a fish oil treat crushed up with her breakfast to help with the persistent dandruff that makes her very itchy. If I try and roll over and go back to sleep after Maggie has left the room to grab her ball, Erza with walk on me to get to my face and proceed to lick my eye lids to try and get me to open them back up and give her breakfast. (Again, worse ways to be woken up.)

Maggie will eventually return with her ball and wait for me to get dressed and start to head down the stairs. After I grab my daily Pepsi bottle, and give Cooper his morning dose of Benadryl, (he has so many allergies) I will sit on the large bean bag chair that we have in the living room and play fetch with Maggie. Personally I think Maggie loves to play with me in the morning because I am her personal hype woman. Every time she goes to get the ball and brings it back she is cheered on and praised. She is actually pretty good at catching the ball either from the original throw or off the first bounce.

Breakfast for both me and the dogs happen eventually, usually after Maggie is done playing for the moment. I will spend time cuddling with each dog on the bean bag chair, which has basically become a giant dog bed most of the time. The dogs will actually take turns laying on the bean bag with me and I absolutely love the fact that they each want hugs from me in the morning.

Now, since my parents and sister are out camping this weekend, I have had to do the dogs full morning routine with them. I sleep in my parents’ room with the dogs and they decide when it is time to get up in the morning. Today that happened to be 5 am. When I let them outside, because they normally wake up and have to use the facilities, only River actually did anything. Maggie and Cooper just stood on the step by the back door and looked out on the yard like they were Simba and Mufasa from The Lion King. I felt a little annoyed.

By that time I was already moving around enough that my body was waking up so I just started my morning routine and now I am trying to use the extra bit of time to be productive. It has not escaped my notice that Maggie is currently snoring in the chair next to me, and the boys are asleep in other positions around the living room. At least they get to go back to sleep.

Puppy Play Time

This last weekend my grandparent went out of town overnight. They spent two nights away, and that meant that someone would need to be with their dog, a lovely springer spaniel named Ruby, for those two days. Since we always help family, I volunteered to be the Ruby minder.

Ruby absolutely adores coming over to my house to play with our dogs. River and Cooper are about the same size as her, with only Maggie, who is the smallest of the three that live with me and my family, occasionally getting lost in the shuffle. Not to worry though, Maggie loves her size and has used it to her advantage plenty of times.

Ruby has always been a solo dog, unless she is over for what we have dubbed Puppy Play Dates. Not too long ago, when my grandparents were over for dinner, we let the dogs out into our fenced in back yard, and started to hear a commotion. We moved from the patio by our back door, into the yard more, to get a better look at what was going on with the dogs. They ran past us and continued to wrestle. Tails were wagging for all four. My Grandpa, better known as Papa to us grandkids, couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

To add a little more information, Ruby is a bit older than my dogs. She was a bit of a grouch to begin with in their relationship between the dogs. The fact that she was out in the yard, playing with the other dogs was a very happy sight, but also a bit of a surprise.

This last weekend, Ruby spent most of the time at my house, playing like that with her puppy pals. She would be beyond tired, despite the naps that she also took during the day, and would be very ready for dinner by the time it rolled around. I would pack her up in the car, and with my over night bag, drive back to my grandparents’ house for the night. Ruby certainly appreciated being in her own home for bedtime.

I missed my own bed, but I knew that Ruby would feel much better being home overnight. Then in the mornings, I packed up my things, and Miss Ruby-doo, a much loved nickname for a much loved dog, and would head back to my house so she could have more puppy play time. This was mostly to distract her from missing my grandparents. Ruby loves them beyond words, and when she is home and they are away she misses them terribly.

A few signs I caught just this weekend were things like her staring out the window at the places they would normally park their car and whining. She also would hop up into my Grandma’s recliner and pout. I would have to comfort her and tell her that they would be home soon just to get her back in a better mood. (To those who think I am giving her more personality than she has, trust me, you must have never owned a furry pet. They have much more in those little minds than you may think.)

You could truly see the love from Ruby when my grandparents pulled up in my drive way to pick her up and take her home. She was out the door like a shot the moment I opened it. Her tail was wagging so fast it was a blur. She couldn’t contain her excitement, and was practically vibrating with happiness when she was finally able to see her people again.

Never worry Papa and Grandma! Ruby-Doo is always welcome for a puppy play date here.

The Family Pet

I always was surrounded by animals growing up. Several dogs at once, and a few cats that would lounge around the house like royalty. My current lot is three dogs, (River, Cooper, and Maggie), and three cats (Erza, Pho, and Gobi). Something I have learned being with these animals through my life, is there is a very deep connection that forms between an owner and the pet. Even if the animal did not choose you as their human, you become attached to the creature, and your memories have this happy glow to them.

My pets have always been furry, and that would be because I am not a huge fan of the other varieties. I am glad that other people find space in their hearts for these animals, because I certainly wouldn’t be able to properly take care of them due to my aversion. If you own a creature of the scaly persuasion, then I am truly happy for you. Those animals deserve to have the best life that can be given to them.

Cats in particular seem to really enjoy being around me. Since I was ten years old I have been a proud cat mom. Now for those who are against using the parent terms with our fur babies, please note that I have thought it through and found it appropriate. You take care of every need these animals have. You buy them toys and food, take them to the doctor when they are under the weather. There is a responsibility that you take on when you adopt an animal. I don’t have kids, so I can’t compare completely, but too many people their pets are their babies.

As a cat mom, I have had a partner in crime, a best friend, and a furry soulmate all wrapped into one. Smokey was my first cat. My dad brought home two kittens when I was ten years old. They had been barn cats and he only meant to adopt one, but couldn’t separate them because they were playing together and having the best time. So Smokey and her brother Riley became part of our family. Riley chose my younger sister as his person, and he completely understood what she needed out of that relationship. Smokey chose me and I was completely honored to be her person.

It wasn’t very obvious at first, but turned out that Smokey was born blind. There was no physical problem with her eyes, which we a crystal blue that I just adored, so we assumed that the connection along her optic nerve or in her brain wasn’t quite working. This fact never changed anything for me and our relationship though. Even though she couldn’t see like an average cat, she never knew what she was missing. I would pick out toys that made noise, or had reflective surfaces because it seemed like she could pick out some lights and shadows. Smell was a big thing for her, and it seemed to drive how she found her way around the world.

At age 24, I unfortunately lost her due to the original brain condition that she was born with. The vet told me to be very proud of how long she had lived because most cats with brain issues don’t live to be 14. Two weeks later, I adopted Erza. Some may say that is too fast to adopt another, but I had all this love to give and without my cat to give it to, I was lost. Erza helped heal me. She gave me plenty of reasons to smile again and to feel safe loving another cat like I had with Smokey.

Each animal has their own personality. Smokey was fairly calm, and took her time figuring out her next move. Erza loves to play with my pens, and throws her whole self into every adventure she possibly can have. (Obviously this will sometimes get her into trouble.) These differences made me feel my grief in the beginning, when I so desperately wanted Smokey back. However as time has gone by, I realized that I love that Erza is not a carbon copy of my first kitty. I enjoy watching her eyes and how they explore her surroundings, mostly because Smokey’s eyes never reacted to her world. Erza chases after toys that I throw, and I really enjoy that I am finding a new way to interact with my cat.

Our pets have love to give, and I am completely certain that they understand us in their own way. They come give us cuddles when we are sad. They know when to back off and give us a moment to ourselves. Specific words make more sense to them, like your word for their favorite toys, or what you call their meals/food. Overall though, I know that Erza understands me when I explain something to her, and the other animals in my house show the same intelligence spark in their eyes. (Don’t get me wrong there are some animals that are not the brightest crayon in the box, but the same goes for people.)

That bond that forms between us and our pets is incredibly strong and I know that I never want to go for very long in my life without having some form of it. To know the love of an animal, is to know truly unconditional love. They don’t know the concept of hate, or prejudice. It certainly makes me laugh when I see them thinking that a stranger is just a friend they haven’t met yet. They never dislike someone without getting to know who they really are.

I will forever be thankful for the time I got with Smokey, and all my other pets who have passed on. I am also so grateful for the bonds that I have now. The possibility of even more bonds out there that I have yet to make excites me. Hopefully some of you readers feel the same way.