Thursday, November 15, 2012

MEA CULPA

Okay, so you get that headline if you were either: A) raised Catholic, or B) studied Latin in school.
I'm just going to briefly apply it to my dear, dear Cooper and our "misunderstanding" last night.

I fell in love with Cooper at PAWS in Lynnwood, WA.  (You've heard about him before; this shant be the last time!).  Here is a picture of our second meeting.  I had met him the day before.  I was looking for a 15 lb. female.  I was thwarted by PAWS at every step.  More about that, on another date.  This day, you can see how happy I am, and how... OOGY he was.  His name was Kodi.  He was spewing in a rather projectile fashion, from both ends, due to the stress of being abandoned, rejection and a butt-load of vaccinations all at once.  This new person, who had walked past his cage innumerable times looking for a small female, was now, suddenly, TOUCHING HIM!  He was tentatively allowing himself to have hope.  But mostly he was feeling like ca-ca, in the true espanol sense of the word.

Cooper (aka, at that time Kodi) was walked, sweet-talked and introduced to Sara and Scott.  He and Dana had met the day prior.  He had made it clear he wanted OUT of there.  A dear friend of the humans had popped in to introduce herself.  The humans were important to her; thus, so was the new canine.   Cooper embarked on the next journey of his life:  a strange car (with a terrifying lamb squeaky toy), a walk, a boat ride, another walk and a truck to hop into.  Then... heaven.  Doggy Heaven.  Really.  Acres and acres of grass and trees and small critters and wonderful smells.   Could he DARE a smile?  Was this where he got to be for now?

 He was home.  They were calling him a strange name.  It sounded nothing like Kodi, but he would turn to it, if it made them happy.   He liked the other dog there, but soon proved his naivete at not knowing how to play, how to romp, how to be happy.  Experiences he had not had, to date.

It's been quite a year with this guy.   In fact, after almost one year, he finally performed an appropriate play bow, chased the other dog in fun and without a hump in sight, and picked up a toy - delighting in its squeak!   He continues to be amazed.  A recent animal communicator student told us he is constantly saying, "Really?"  "Really?"  We see that as, "Really?  I get raw meat?"  or "Really?  I have people who touch me lovingly?"   or "Really?  I don't have to sleep outside, all alone?  You'll let me come in here and sleep on a soft, cushy bed mere inches from where you sleep?  Really?"   Cooper awakes with whines.  He just really can't believe his new-found fortune.  He can't believe he actually and finally belongs.

And, try as I might to remember that, sometimes I forget.   Last night he cuddled up to me.  Husband was sawing logs on the other side of the bed.  Cooper came up for a bit of a frantic cuddle.  I was still reading, and somewhat distracted.  I petted him and reassured him.  Then he wandered to the other side of the bed and whined.  I got up, to let the man savor his sleep, and trod quietly through the house, showing Cooper his doggy door.  It is important to me that he knows his freedoms.  He walked through it and I went back to bed, to my book.   Ten minutes later, Sara came over to my side of the bed, concerned.   Cooper hadn't found his way back inside.  I threw the covers aside, and heaved myself out of bed, once again.  I thought of going to the doggy door (I AM trying to teach him a lesson, after all.  He has a certain amount of autonomy.  I was hoping he would easily do his thing, then find his way back in.)  Instead, I walked to the living room door and switched on the light.  There he was, curled up and shivering against the glass door; settled in for the night.

I quickly let him in and fell over myself, apologizing.  He was confused and kept flopping over, showing his tummy in submission.  We must have taken 15 flops between the door and the bedroom.  Over and over again I told him I was sorry, and that he NEVER had to content himself with sleeping outside, on the outskirts ever again.

Today we are fine.  But I continually ponder at the path he has taken until he reached here, his new home... where he sleeps on a comfortable, clean bed, inside with the humans and the other dog.  Where he is welcome, beloved, and enjoyed.  Where he is not labeled "destructive" or seen as someone who lives in the margin of society.  Where he is accepted, hugged, enjoyed and slowly realizes that he can let his humor shine through.  Mea Culpa, Cooper.  From now on, if you wake up during the middle of the night, I will show you the door, turn on the light and wait, shivering, for you to do your thing and come back to sleep with the rest of your pack.  Indoors.  Safe.  And loved.
  You Belong.


Friday, November 9, 2012

SOME WHIDBEY RESIDENTS and THE DOGS WHO LOVE 'EM


To get our blog up and running, we put an ad on Whidbey Island's version of Craigslist. It read something to the effect of:

DOG OWNERS: You know we all LOVE to talk about our dogs, right? I have started a new dogblog: WHIDBEYDOGS.blogspot.com. Have a look! And, I would like to include your thoughts and observations along with pictures of your dogs; heck I'll even include your dog's thoughts and observations! And not just in the comment section, but in the body of the blog. It's like a fun group project, which I think will provide some interesting reading to dog lovers on the island. No hidden agenda; this isn't one of my million dollar ideas, or anything. I simply love dogs and like to hear stories from other people who share their lives with them.

Well, in fact, that is exactly how it read; I just cut and pasted it from the ad. I even bribed people, by saying I would donate $1 to drewslist for every reply. (Note to self: get that check off today.) I heard from a few nice people, but Drew won't be buying a Ferrari any time soon, that's for sure. (I don't even know if he wants one, so maybe that's a good thing.)  However!  As I am one to always strive for the Pollyanna side of life, it's a new blog, out of billions and billions out there on the internet, right? But it's the only one for dogs and their owners here on beautiful Whidbey Island.  If it grows, WOOF!  If not, I'm still having fun.

And here, from one of the first responders, Rita, and the dog who shares her home:

This is Ripley, posing at Whidbey State Park.  Isn't she a beaut'?  

Ripley is a 9-yr-old Rhodesian RIdgeback who offers us unconditional love -- all the time, no matter what!  She is always willing to go for a walk or a ride, never giving the "I'm not in the mood" excuse that humans might use. She enjoys just sitting in the sun, smelling the air -- showing us how simple the experience of true joy really is. She's thrilled at breakfast time, thrilled at dinner time,  loves drive-up coffee places, Ace Hardware & the Country Store. Loves hiking, and the beaches. -- And she demonstrates to us every day how the simple things in life can bring so much happiness.

Ripley is not just a dog; she's a key member of our family and the entire focus of everything we do.  Not one decision is made without taking her needs into consideration.  We love her unconditionally as well, having learned how to do that from her.  For us, a house without dog hair is an unhealthy environment.

Barking for Starbucks!


Unconditional LOVE.  There's just nothing finer.  More in our next post from other Whidbey-ites and the dogs who love 'em.