Snow, snow, go away/Mini Memory

I am not a fan of snow. I don't ski; I don't like to slide around; I don't like the grey skies, and I especially don't like to be cold. It looks nice. The beauty of a day where the sun shines on clean, sparkling snow is unique. Fresh snow tastes good. It was even fascinating today to watch the big flakes floating down. But snow is a symbol for winter and I just don't like winter. It speaks to me of hibernation and death, things slowing down and stopping, COLD. Let someone else praise the snow. I'll think tropical.

Snow reminds me of December 2006. My mother died right before Christmas. While we were going through this, the Fed-Ex delivery man slipped on my front walk, which I had been unable to clear entirely. The fear of a lawsuit was, of course, in my mind, especially since the man's wife came to our door while I was away, hoping my insurance company would help, since Carlos couldn't work and workman's comp was minimal. Michael talked me into taking the food left at my mother's house to the family. Because of timing and workman's comp issues, Carlos had to wait a week before surgery and the casting of his leg. This was not going to be a good Christmas for his family. I'm so glad we went to meet these very nice people. Everyone is not litigious. People can even be kind to each other in trying circumstances.

I still hate snow.

Big Dog Parents

One of the many things I came home from the BCD Reunion with is an extra-special place in my heart for big dog owners. The commitment it takes to handle a pair of tall, heavy dogs is more than one might think- feeding them, making them comfortable, exercising them. Add special needs, and it is amazing the work these people put in.

There were two pairs of extra large dogs at the reunion. One was Molly and Dozer, the Great Danes cared for by Cindy and Will. Dozer is a tripawd, seen here resting his backside on Cindy's lap at the U of Wisconsin Veterinary School. I watched Cindy and Will blow up an air mattress for their dogs to rest on, wipe drools, get them in and out of the car, feed them with homemade food they carted from home, exercise them, and most of all, love them. I can't think of any more of an inspiration than these people. How could Dozer not be my hero when I see this giant of a dog making his way on three legs. Gentle giant has true meaning here.

Karen and Adrian, from Colorado, brought their mastiffs, Theo and Olivia, again, friendly, gentle dogs. It amazes me that these people commit to these large breeds, who have an increased probability of developing bone cancer. Karen's and Adrian's Albion, indeed, succumbed to the disease. I believe Theo and Olivia are cancer free right now.

I have always been committed to my dogs, but these people really show committment and love. I have the ultimate respect for them for this.

Flags, Wine and Helium

They don't go together. Not really, but they do signify the end of this reunion for me.

Every year the reunion honors the dogs that have passed in the preceeding year, but this year all 600+ that were part of the group since its beginnings five years ago, those gone as well as the survivors were honored by having their names posted on Tibetan prayer flags and having their names read. Each person read the names listed on the flag he or she held. That one little name, Rondo, was so difficult to read without tears, which then continued for the other dogs on my list. The flags were strung together and mounted on two poles, so we could look at them all. This was our second visual reminder of the number of dogs who have gone through this group. The names were also posted on a banner that hung in our meeting room.

The end of the Bone Cancer Dogs reunion. Did I end it with tears? With sneaking out so I didn't have to say goodbyes? I had to end a serious day with the sillies to restore balance. Nothing profound. Nothing I'm proud of, but different than I've played the rest of this weekend. Finished the bottle of wine (there was only a little) and sucked in a little helium for entertainment.

Of Meetings and Tears

It's late, and I don't know how to describe my feelings about my time in Madison so far. It seemed odd meeting people I knew only through the Internet, but somehow, it's fairly easy. Some have turned out how I envisioned them, others not, but it's an interesting experience. There are dogs here as well as people- mastiffs, sheepdogs, great danes, and more. Much of of conversation centers around dogs, but that's OK. Starting points are always OK. It was hard for me to see the tripawds, because it reminded me of Rondo's struggle. I envy these creatures, who are especially beautiful to me, because I know wha love and commitment they "stand" on. I felt my eyes getting moist every time I looked at one.

This morning we toured the University of Wisconsin's Veterinary Teaching Hospital. The University is amazing to me, because it's obvious how much the place is spread out. I almost feel like a hick, someone used to a vet's office with four examination rooms, and then seeing these facilities. Dr. Ruthanne Chun talked to us about bone cancer and its treatment. I wondered why records aren't kept about the incidence of OS in breeds, and geographically. I still wonder about environmental causes, but this wasn't mentioned at all. I toy with the idea of attempting to gather that information, although I don't have a clue of how to start, or if that's in my reach. On the other hand, researchers focus on finding out how cancer works, and how to slow it down, or kill it. Is my interest more of a curiosity? If environmental causes were discovered, could/would we do anything about them?

Notable to me (and probably all of us) this evening was the tribute/memorial to the dogs of the attendees. I wept when there was nothing to weep at during the photos of the previous four Bone Cancer Dogs reunions. Then I found myself looking for Rondo's photos. It had been a long time since I sent them, and I didn't remember all of them. I wish I had taken more! Photos of Rondo having fun, rather than posing for me. Photos of Rondo and Caprice playing. Photos of Rondo biting my hair, or laying on top of one of us on the bed. All those moments missed.

Canon and Caprice are helping me move past my grief, I thought, but it's certainly all here tonight. An e-mail from Karen tells of a poodle being strangled after her collar caught on the tooth of her playmate. My tears haven't stopped for a half hour, and I'm pretty sure it's not all because of the death of a poodle I never knew. I grieved for a long time for my father. This seems harder. More reminders?

Why am I in the airport, heading for Madison?

I'm sitting in the Denver airport right now, waiting for my plane to Madison, WI, for the Bone Cancer Dogs reunion. This trip started out the same as usual, getting things together and packing the day before, ironing clothes at the last minute, up relatively late with little sleep. Out of bed at 4:30 and driving to the airport, I didn't have the time or wit to think about where I'm going.

Not until we were approaching Denver did I think about all of this. My initial reaction, upon seeing snow on the ground over the mountains as we made our approach over the mountains, was that I forgot the appropriate shoes for walking around and in inclement weather. Oh well, my walking shoes, while not attractive, will do. Then I got around to the real stuff. Susan W. was on my plane. That reminded me that she knows Louanne, who bought a painting from her. Louanne is the veterinarian's tech. She helped take care of Rondo and was there when he died. Now the tears are forming in my eyes. That's one of the reasons I'm on my way to Madison-- to pay tribute to my boy, and meet the people who supported me during and after the battle. How's that for a connection? Does that mean anything?

I am questioning myself. I decided to do this way back in May, when I was still raw from Rondo's death. I do want to meet everyone, but now I'm wondering if I'm extending my grief by making this trip. Suddenly the feeling of commitment to the Bone Cancer Dogs group is waivering. Should I move on--enjoying Caprice and Canon and leaving the tears behind? I don't know the answer to that question yet. I have to wait, but I also have to be in this moment, this reunion. Maybe the answers are here.

Canon Goes to School

Canon attended his first session of puppy kindergarten today- 3 standard poodles, 3 German shepherds, 3 king cavalier spaniels and two Australian shepherds. Guess who, in my opinion, was the most difficult kid in class? Mr. Canon, so interested in the other dogs and people, had absolutely no interest in the treats I had brought to bribe him into obedience. Suddenly sit had no meaning. Forget following the treat from his nose to my face. Not interested!

The instructor, Evi Fox, thinks that I have a stubborn one, one who needs a strong leader. We're moving straight to the prong collar tomorrow. I'm glad I didn't wait until he was older to start puppy class. We need to get to work!

Evi is not a fan of walking your dog out in public where there are other dogs, sometimes uncontrolled. She pointed out to Nancy and me that white dogs are a predator's delight, easy to see and look like sheep. She pointed out to the small dog owners that little dogs look like toys to big dogs. Not going to change my mind, but something to remember...

The good news is that Canon showed his good nature and social skills, and got along with everyone. He did well on the ride to and from in the back seat with his sister, Roxy. We'll work on the rest.

The Sunny Side

Caprice and I just returned from our walk through the park. It's a beautiful New Mexican autumn day- a slight tinge of cool with the warmth, sun shining, blue, clear sky. The grass was a crisp green; the trees, still with leaves, had that same crispness. I took my sunglasses off. The grass was now a faded green; the trees were faded as well. My glasses didn't need to be rose colored to view my surroundings in a positive light. The very point that I needed sunglasses meant that the sun was shining and the world was well. Take one analogy as needed.

Speaking of Conflict...

The interrelatedness of everything we see, think, do! This shouldn't be a surprise-we're constantly making connections.

This afternoon, in the nick of time, I finished The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao for our book group discussion tonight. (Yes, once in awhile I take a break from poodles, computer, TV, and coffee, to read, and sometimes I even read something intellectual. Oscar is the story of a young man searching for love- not unusual, but make that an obese young man who has never had sex. How could that be intellectual? you say. Make the hero a Dominican man whose family has a fuku, or curse placed upon it. Make it partially take place in the Dominican Republic during the reign of terror during the dictatorship of Rafael Trujillo.

I didn't love the book, which won a Pulitzer prize, but I did learn about this period in the history of this little island nation. I was horrified by the violent scenes, which my guess is, were not just fiction. I felt no attachment to the hero, or actually to anyone in the book. It made me wonder, and think. Conflict. The corruption of power, and perhaps macho.

Now back to another mystery book.

Conflict

Two posts today, and the more I think about it, I can relate them easily. With the dogs this morning, we saw "play" conflict, for the most part. Later on, we saw the real thing-- for no good reason.

After poodle play time today, Michael and I went for a ritual Starbucks visit, as we do many Sundays. As we walked around the little strip mall, we heard shouting. Apparently a passerby told a man who stopped along the fire lane that he wasn't supposed to be there. This resulted in a lot of yelling by the driver, punctuated with a lot of f****** this and that. He actually got out of the car and continued to yell obscenities and insults at the passerby.

This fit right in with a conversation we had about following the rules. We often break little rules- because they're inconvenient, or we think they're silly, or we think we're above them. When the driver was reminded he was breaking the rules, he went ballistic. Aren't rules supposed to help us avoid conflict or problems? Why are some people insulted when reminded that they're not following the rules?

Michael sometimes talks about the "outlaw" or "lawless" mentality that sometimes occurs in this part of the country. Is it only here? Is it a male thing? A societal thing? Is it the end of civility. I often wonder how human behavior evolves. Or has it always been this way?

If It's Sunday, There Must be Poodles

One of my greatest doggie joys is watching my dogs play and enjoy themselves. They do that best on Sunday mornings when my friend Nancy (we met because we both adopted our white pups from the same litter) brings her poodles Jasper and Roxy to play. They all mix it up some, but it's appears to us that the big poodles prefer playing with each other and the pups prefer each other. There's running, jumping, squealing, and wrestling among the preferred activities.

Canon and Jasper have a little thing going-- Canon teases, Jasper retaliates, and then we have a yelping pup--but it doesn't last long. Today I especially enjoyed watching Caprice leap in the air when playing with Jasper, and her standing quietly, stalking him before she attacked.

Yes, I love watching my dogs anytime. Since they're my "babies," I watch them sleep, eat, and play, and I'm filled with warm thoughts and happiness. The poodle free-for-all, though, is my favorite.

Just to Keep Track

Michelle with Canon at 5 wk. and Michelle with Canon at 15 wk. Both have changed!

Ms. Hyde

It surprised me when I realized what was happening. Then I found myself thinking about it. The next thing I knew, tears were streaming down my face while I looked at a cute dog blog. Depression? Moodiness? At a loss? I don't know what to call it. I just know it doesn't feel good. I can still shower my dogs with love, but I don't love anything else. People disappoint me. I don't know what I'm expecting, but I know it's not there. I want to be with people (sort of), but I can't handle their personalities. Are they self-centered and selfish, or is it really me? I don't know which came first.

Quick Post

Oh, if I only had the energy and wit to post today!

Today would have been my mother's 86th birthday...