A Day of Solitude
“You need a village, if only for the pleasure of leaving it.” ~ Casare Paves
The rescue is my village – and often my haven. But between my day job and my volunteer work for the rescue evenings and weekends, I was reminded that it I have been working seven day weeks for a very long time. We’ve had some joyous times recently – and some very difficult ones. I woke up very much feeling under the weather: mentally- more than physically.
So I slept in very late … and then went where I am always happiest: the garden. My own this time.
“Home is a shelter from storms — all sorts of storms.” ~ William J. Bennett
If you look on the USDA map, the city of Sacramento where I live, and the rescue – which is in open country only 20 miles away – are both supposed to be in the same Zone 9. But any good gardening site will show you that the city has its own micro-climate which is much more Mediterranean. Protected by trees, houses and buildings, it can rise all the way to Zone 14. It is evident in my home garden, where things are still – or already – blooming.
It has been sorely neglected. So today – the roses were pruned, the last of the leaves were raked, and the soggy messes cleaned up as the next wave of rain settled in. In solitude.
Well … near solitude. The hummingbirds kept me company.
And when the work was done – there was, of course, a (wet) dog or two to return to.
“A village means that you are not alone, knowing that in the people, the trees, the earth, there is something that belongs to you, waiting for you when you are not there.” ~Casare Pavese
Tomorrow is Martin Luther King Day and a work holiday. I’ll likely return to “the village” and get my fix of dogs and memorial garden – with a more restored sense of self. Solitude is sometimes good for the soul.
“Inside myself is a place where I live all alone, and that’s where I renew my springs that never dry up.” ~ Pearl Buck
Wordless Wednesday: Scrappy
Scrap-A-Doodle-Doo!!
Foster Failure
“I’m a failure!” she exclaimed. “The very best kind,” said we.
On an earlier post, I shared that Kate and her family were fostering Maggie, to give her a soft place to land while she recovered from recent medical procedures.
I am pleased to share this updated capture of our board clearly showing Maggie moving from the Foster to Adopted column.
Which makes Kate an official “Foster Failure!”
Congratulations to all…and happy life, sweet Maggie. We were kind of hoping it would go that way.
Who’s Your (Foster) Daddy?
When Marshall first arrived, he was so frightened, he literally slid his body low to the ground under his kennel bed and hid.
In hindsight, we’re pretty sure it was a ploy. The dogs talk, you know. And word has been passed from yard to yard that there is an awesome Foster Daddy who lives next door to Homeward Bound. Getting picked to go with him for “rehabilitation” is like winning the dog lottery. Marshall was determined to be selected, so he made himself look as pathetic as possible. And Marshall can do pathetic pretty well!
It worked, of course. Once there – his true colors came out. Marshall treated humans just like puppies treat each other. He probably never learned any better (yeah…we’re going to go with that!).
Instead of gratitude, Marshall tried to turn his Foster Daddy into a chew toy with tugging, tackling, and flat out conquering.
“There’s not much to like about this guy,” black and blue Foster Daddy muttered in utter frustration. Foster Daddy is pretty darn patient – but this one was a true test.
Good news for Marshall…Foster Daddy does not give up. He exhausted his playbook of training methods: rewards and ignoring, yelps and silence, time together and time outs. It was probably not one single thing, but the cumulative effect of all that turned the tide. Or maybe Marshall finally came to the realization that no matter what he did, Foster Daddy was not ditching him. And then – he was a different dog.
“I’m going to miss that guy,” Foster Daddy wrote. Marshall had hit his second jackpot: a home. And not just any home…a home with one of Homeward Bound’s dog walkers.
Photo Credit: Rob Kessel
Marshall take note: Foster Daddy and your new Daddy have traded notes. They are both wise to you! So be a good boy…and visit us often.
And don’t forget to say “thank you” to your Foster Daddy.
Note: Foster Daddy is kind of shy…so I haven’t mentioned his name. But if you look closely, you’ll find it. Just sayin’.
Update: Foster Daddy has outed himself. For his post about Marshall and a gallery of photos, visit here.
Welcome, El Nino
El Nino made a grand entrance.
It rained and rained and rained.
The dry creek turned into a fast-moving and swollen stream.
We all got soaked, but no one minded.
Because the heavens smiled on us.
Welcome, El Nino. Welcome.
Wordless Wednesday: Jingle and Belle
Garden Update: Listen for the Rain
Winter arrived with a blast of cold. It blanketed the garden in little crystals and frozen bird baths each morning for a week.
A final whisper from the north to the garden: “go to sleep.”
We have learned to let the garden stand instead of conducting an end-of-season clean up. The dead stalks provide cover from the cold for the future growth below.
While we have had some nice December rainfall, the total still put us at “average”; nowhere close to what we need to begin a recovery from our prolonged drought. I wish there were a way to relieve the rest of the country of the water that inundates them. Mother Nature is a fickle mistress.
They say the El Nino is now upon us. In a supreme act of faith, I completed raising the beds to protect them from the flooding they say will ensue –
and buried a shelter in Ina’s garden for our feral kitty. Shhh…don’t tell Ina. (Note to my sister, the cat rescuer, yes…our country cats have been neutered or spayed and have plenty of warm spaces to shelter with extra food and water.)
The holiday pines were recycled to mulch, and to provide the blueberries with the acid they crave.
And the birds are well fed.
In the next few weeks, we will prune the roses…all 43 of them…and the grapes.
Until then…we wait. And listen for the rain.
Teach Your Children Well
A garden is a reflection of its keepers. Tidy and structured;
casual and carefree;
or untamed and wild.
It inherits our priorities – not by birth, but by effort and example. So too, our children.
“Whatever you would have your children become, strive to exhibit in your own lives and conversation.” ~ Lydia Sigourney
Kate is a dedicated Homeward Bound dog walker. Despite juggling a full life with young children and a husband’s doctor hours, she shows up every Sunday to get the dogs out – rain or shine.
She has an eagle eye for the first sign of a sneeze, limp, or matted ear – and an enormous heart for those most in need. In 2014, she extended it to George. As a Black Lab with insecurities in a place surrounded by sought-after Goldens, she was worried that he would be overlooked forever. So she took him home.
And while he is still unsure when he encounters dogs on his walks, it turns out that he is fine with dogs in his home. Go figure. This, of course, makes him a perfect host for fostering, which he has taken to very nicely following Kate’s example.
Last week, Kate saw that Maggie needed a soft place to land as she recovered from recent medical procedures.
With George and family in tow, an introduction was planned.
It did not take long for Maggie and George to give the “all clear.”
The kids cheered.
Rescue runs in this family. Kate and her husband, Christian, see to it by living the example. The love, respect, and concern for animals that they have inspired in their children is obvious.
Because of that, Maggie is in their foster care today. She has an opportunity to get well in the comfort of home, and to be loved upon while she waits for her own furever family.
Fostering. A gift for the dogs.
A great way to inspire a love of rescue in children.
A Wish For The New Year
“Live quietly in the moment and see the beauty of all before you.”
~ Paramahansa Yogananda, Autobiography of a Yogi
Wordless Wednesday: My Boy
Emmie: A Gift from the Universe
“We cannot stop the winter or the summer from coming.
We cannot stop the spring or the fall
or make them other than they are.
They are gifts from the universe that we cannot refuse.
But we can choose what we will contribute to life when each arrives.” ~ Gary Zukav
To the person who left sweet, thirteen-year-old Emmie at the shelter, emaciated, sick, and alone – in the winter of her life that she could not stop from coming;
thank you for this gift from the universe that we could not – and would not, refuse.
She brings light to our lives,
and purpose to our days. Our contribution is surrounding her with love and kindness, for whatever time is left.
Regardless of the sadness we know is coming,
this is what we choose. It is your loss that you could not do the same.
Update: Sweet Emmie passed peacefully and gently, surrounded by our volunteers the week that I wrote this post. We knew her time would be measured in days, not weeks or months. In a very short time, she touched so many hearts, not the least of whom was the woman at the shelter who alerted us to her need. Upon Emmie’s passing she writes: “I cried tears of sadness and anger when I got the call from the former owner stating she was bringing her to the shelter I work at. I am now crying tears for her passing. I am eternally grateful to Homeward Bound and for being there to show her love…she deserved nothing but the best, yet her owner was tossing her away. I will never understand that. Big hugs of thankfulness to every person at Homeward Bound! You are an awesome group of people.”
Fly free, sweet Emmie. You are our gift to heaven, now.
Thanks to Rob Kessel, of robanddog.com, for the beautiful photos of Emmie.
Gardens For Goldens 