Eight years ago today!

 I can't believe it was eight years ago today that we got our Lucy. There is a post here. 

She is the kindest dog I've ever known. She doesn't know what anger is. I think this is a Labrador trait. She loves everyone, especially Matthew, our son-in-law. She goes wild when he comes. I have always thought he may remind her of the man where she lived before we got her. She was sort-of a rescue dog because the couple had brought her back to the breeder. That is a trait of the good breeder. They will take a dog back, with no questions. 

Lucy was nearing nine months old when we got her. She had a lot of anxiety from the unhappy family situation she came from. Apparently, they both worked all the time, and Lucy was in a cage during those hours. I think I am remembering it right that the woman said it was her or the dog! I probably would have chosen the dog!

She needed a lot of exercise, and we finally came upon using Matt and Margaret's wheeler to go up the hill with Lucy running next to it. That did it! She became much calmer. 

She adores cats and they love her. I'm pretty sure my Gemma and Maisy think that she is just another person. They'll go up to her and nuzzle if they are hungry. They snuggle up on Lucy's bed.

You may remember that on my birthday two years ago we found out that Lucy had diabetes. I wrote about it here. After weeks of working out the proper dose of insulin, we have settled into a routine where Tom gives her a shot twice a day, and she has been just fine. I am so thankful. I was sure we were going to lose her early on.

I just took this. Her favorite activity. You "may" see some hair on the rug. Serious shedding season for Lucy!

A wonderful dog tale

Yesterday afternoon we were standing around the kitchen - Tom, Margaret, Hazel, Campbell, Indy, and I - when a police car drove up. This has happened a few times in our 40 years in this house. My heart always goes into my throat fearing for my kids. This time I wasn't concerned because Michael is in another town, and Margaret was right here! But I still needed to go out and see what was going on. The man asked, "Do you have a Pug?" I told him no, but my daughter does, and then I asked if she were dead. He said, "No, he's (he didn't know the gender) in the car!" Margaret was out the door by then, and we walked over and got the whole story. 

Seems a couple of out-of-staters were driving past our road and saw Piglet walking kind of in circles at the bottom of our dirt road which spills onto a busy, tarred state road. They stopped and picked her up and brought her to the police station. The police then drove over here. We were all so very grateful, and amazed. We talked for a long time about the wonder of this. How kind the people were to take the time to bring her to the police, and for the police to bring her back home. There were two of them, a man and a woman with the biggest smiles, probably in their twenties. Just the kindest, dearest police you've ever seen. I wish they could make the national news!

Margaret checked the town page on Facebook and the police had posted a picture of Piggie - (and here comes a bad pun) a "Pug shot", telling the story of where she was found and to get in touch with the police.

This is not the first time Miss Piggie has gotten into trouble. Another day a fellow drove into Margaret's yard, having picked up her up also at the bottom of our road. Again, such kindness.

And here's the thing. Piglet is not young. In fact she turned 14 this year! She can't see or hear very well, but she sure gets around. Here is a picture of her when she was a wee one. Less than a month after Margaret and Matthew got together they brought home this adorable Pug. I've often told people that you know it is true love when a couple gets a dog. 

And this is her a couple years ago. You'll notice the chair does not say her name.

Birthday party, and the evening after

My 73rd birthday was a week ago today, and this is the first chance I've really had to sit down and write about it. 

The whole family had not been together since November 1. There was school, there were rising cases in our state, those in authority advised that families not get together for the holidays, and we all decided it was best to stay in our little local pods. Yes, it has been very hard, but the health of all my babies is more important to me than anything! We've all been well, there haven't been cases in their schools, and we're all very careful so we decided we could get together during February vacation. As a birthday surprise, Michael, Estée, Campbell, and Indy showed up down at Margaret's. Tom was down there, and texted me there was a birthday surprise. I walked down and three kids raced to me. What joy!!

You may notice that my coat is buttoned unevenly. That's because the wind kicked up as I was walking down and I was struggling with one hand, grabbing at random buttons and buttonholes to get my coat buttoned. 

At the outside fire

Margaret made the cake. This is the recipe the family pretty much agrees is the best chocolate cake so why make any other! You may find it here. In that big bowl is chocolate whipped cream for the frosting. It was perfect!

A late Christmas present for Hazel - a dressmaker's kit with a model, material, and all the accoutrements of the sewing world. Estée has a business making clothes and doing repairs/adjustments to older clothes. They worked together for ages.

While Margaret taught the boys how to play Mario Monopoly. 

My grown-up babies.

We all agreed it had been the most perfect day, except for missing Matty who had to work.

And then ... when we got home, we saw that Lucy had peed on the kitchen rug. That is not like her. She has never peed anywhere except outdoors. Also, the water bowl was almost empty. We had been noticing for a few days that she seemed to be drinking more than usual. These are both signs of possible medical problems, so off Tom went to the local emergency vets who work the hours the other vets are closed. 

There was quite a line of cars when he arrived at five o'clock when they open. Someone came by to get information about what was wrong. He told them, and they came back after an hour and told him he could walk her to the door, and then they took her in. In about half an hour, the vet called and asked some questions. After another half hour or so, the vet called again to say Lucy's sugar levels were elevated. To make a long story short, she has diabetes, and Tom gives her insulin shots twice a day. They gave her a low dose to start her off, and said to go to our regular vet as soon as we could. He said she needed more insulin, so we upped it, and so far she is doing well on it. It has been a fraught few days as we've adjusted to this, but honestly you wouldn't think anything was wrong with our dear girl. 

They've told us that she is otherwise very healthy, and should be able to live with this a long time.

Addendum: On Friday Lucy went back to the vet, and he said the insulin had to be upped again because her sugar levels weren't what they should be. (I think that's the medical explanation) He said it can take a while to get this settled. She goes back again Monday morning. So she has gone from 10 units, the base amount the emergency vet gave, to 14, and now to 17. 

It was a year ago today...

...that we picked up the kittens. 

And you can see them now in the blog header! We are so thankful for Gemma and Maisy!

Today's picture/napping house

Did you ever read The Napping House by Audrey and Don Wood? Wonderful children's book.

It's (almost) midnight and the kitties are sleeping

Do you remember Letterman singing this song?



Well, we got our kitties today, and it was 11:30 when I took these pictures. That's Gemma on the couch, and Maisy on the floor. They have been wild as sin! Play, play, play and then fall down asleep. I had forgotten the utter joy of kittens. More, and better, pictures to come.

A Litany of Cat Names; and an announcement!

When I wrote about the death of our last cat, Raya, I meant to do another posting of just the names of all the cats we had between 1969 and 2019. I don't know why - just that I wanted to list their names.

Beauchamp (from a character in Faulkner, an author Tom and I loved)
Amy
Alexander
Sage (after Jim Morrison's dog. Morrison died just before our Sage was born)
Little Man
Grey Baby (my mother's cat that we inherited after she died)
Blackie (a neighbor's cat who came and stayed, with the okay of the neighbor)
Trilby
Alice
Tigger (the only cat who ever appeared at Windy Poplars as a stray)
Soot (named by Margaret)
Tiger (named by Michael)
Raya (named by Margaret's friend, Ana)
Hallie (we got her around Hallowe'en and she was the 13th pet on our account at the vet's)

I have had quite a hard time since Raya died nine months ago. I dearly love my Labrador, Lucy but I missed a cat. Also, I had a few odd experiences. In the evening sometimes, I would be sitting in the living room and hear a little thud above me from the room where Raya ate. I thought I heard her bombing down the stairs the way she always did, and I even thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I bet there were eight occasions like these. Was Raya trying to tell me I should get a cat? Weird, I know. Unexplainable, that's true.

Margaret, Matthew, and Hazel decided to get a second cat. They got their Pepsi from a local animal rescue place (it says animal, but I think it is mostly (only?) cats. The other day she texted me a picture of the one they got, and I melted. She told me there were two kittens left in the litter of five. Tom and I talked and he said he just couldn't keep seeing me so sad, so we agreed to get the two! I filled out an online application, and the woman called to say I was approved. I went to visit. The kittens are only about four weeks old so they don't suggest patting, etc. yet. Well, one of mine came right up to the bars on the cage and looked right at me with those baby kitten blue eyes. I swear she was saying hello.

The other one was harder to capture. She was either snuggled with another, or nursing. They will be ready to come home next month. I am beyond happy! I'm calling them Gemma and Maisy.

Four Seasons with Susan Hill and Gladys Taber - Gladys' spring

Gladys has a nice thing to say about March the month when spring begins in our part of the world.

As I write, sleet, mixed with snow and rain, beats against the window. But when I open the door and look out, I smell the clean, sweet air, and I hear the brook running down the hill, and I feel spring in my heart. March is a special gift from nature to restore and nourish the land, and without it roses would never bloom so beautifully in June. 

We've had a cloudy, rainy, cool spring with a few days of warmth and bright sunshine. Most people have complained, but for me it was the perfect weather for the flowers. Yes, things have been slow in coming, but the daffodils lasted over a month. I've never seen so many blooms on the crabapple and they didn't fade for ages. Every single tree and flower has looked spectacular. I hope to do a picture posting of all the beauty.

In the 1970s, Southbury Connecticut has changed from Gladys' earlier writings from the 1930s and 40s and 50s. It made me sad to read

Southbury is no longer a quiet country village as it was, and those of us who watch the death of a rural area feel heartbreak. The deep woods crash, marshes are flooded, sweet-running trout streams polluted. Factories encroach. Chain stores plan to move in. A turnpike slices the wild-flower meadows.

Sometimes I think progress is man's greatest enemy. But I am thankful my own woods and swamps and streams are still safe, and nobody at the moment can drain my pond and build a development there. It belongs to the wildlife and the children.

I suppose all of us who grow older in a place we've lived in a long time see changes, and think about the future of our own land. I feel very lucky because our children love this place, and indeed Margaret and her family live on acres that used to be part of it. I can't imagine them ever tearing down the house or subdividing the land. It is part of them, it is "home" to them and to their children.

It warms my heart that one of Gladys' grandchildren writes often in the Friends of Gladys Taber publication about Stillmeadow. It really seems much the same as when she lived there. She would be so very pleased.

And Southbury itself still looks very lovely in some of the pictures shown on the web page, though I'm sure much bigger and busier.

Gladys has a many page diversion from nature and spring to talk about the census. It is quite shocking to read!

The folder said, "Why Your Family?'

Well, it seems I was chosen as one of 17,000 out of 63 million to be investigated by the Census Bureau. It's strictly confidential, I was assured, for the census bureau is airtight against snoopers. 

... As a writer, I have been interviewed for years by reporters, radio MCs, and various clubwomen, and I have never objected, feeling that I have no secret life. ... But suddenly I began to wonder, and I did not want to fill out all those pages [30 or 40 of them!] about my way of living. We live in a climate of fear nowadays, second only to Communist countries. Newsmen go to jail rather than divulge the source of their special information. Houses are wired, telephones tapped, and the FBI has files on millions of names, innocent or not. The Watergate incident came to my mind. ... 

Then we got to page one. Now the information wanted by the bureau is about clothing and linens, auto expenses and repairs, trips and vacations, utilities, fuels, household help, repairs to appliances, TVs, etc., home repairs and improvements, insurance, and a few other items. 

This is really personal stuff! I was shocked that the Bureau could request (well, it really wasn't a request, was it?) to know all this. It got me wondering if they still do this. I know there is news now about a government "request" to know if a household includes anyone who is not a citizen of this country. But do they also go in for all the minutiae of lives?

Poor Gladys. 74 years old and being asked all these things!

An hour and a half later I needed an ice pack on my head. Unfortunately, I did not know how old my toaster was, when I had last bought sheets and pillowcases, how old my car was (this never came out right since I bought the last one of a model the week before the new ones appeared). I had no records of when I bought my TV set (but it was black-and-white, which she wrote down). I remembered that my electric range was a little over a year old (just old enough so the warranty had run out when the timer blew).

Trips and vacations drew a blank, as I never take them. I confessed that I have only one typewriter, non-electric. And no humidifiers. I forgot my one old electric fan. I had not bought any new clothes or rented any. And I did not know how much I had spent on food. No hospital expenses. I said I needed a new sofa because the springs were sagging in mine but I did not remember when I bought it or when it was re-covered. ...

Books are evidently of no interest to the Census Bureau, and I must have several hundred at least, overflowing the bookshelves and stacked in piles in closets. Never mind. I had not bought a new coat this year. Or new shoes.

The census woman was to come back twice more, and in the meantime Gladys was supposed to fill out more pages.

I began to wonder how much 17,000 of these elegant portfolios, complete with pad and pencil and glassy pockets, must cost our rich government and how much this investigation cost and how far that money would go for food for the poverty areas.

And then she ends with some rather chilling words.

I do know in this age we are not expected to have or want any privacy, but I wonder if it isn't time for a change before we all become statistics fed into a computer?

I find this whole project more and more disturbing. At what point can a citizen of our great country have any privacy? Are we by any chance tending toward an era when the government will regulate our whole lives? I wonder if I were to say, "I do not wish to be in the census, thank you. Try my neighbor down the road" - would I make the FBI files?

I am too docile ever to know.

Gladys then goes on to write of her cats, past and present, and the wild ones who live in the barn. This part was hard for me to read as our Raya died in March. She made her first appearance on the blog here. And there are more pictures under the "Cats and Dogs" label on the sidebar under "Letter Topics". We had her for 18 years. She had been a big cat but in the last years she lost so much weight and by the end was only about 5 pounds. She was the most loving and interesting and difficult of all our cats. She was the greeter when anyone came to visit. She loved people. And she loved the grandchildren from the very beginning. Here she is with 7-month-old Hazel.

As for the difficult part - well, she was unstoppable. She stretched on and under every single chair. If she wanted my attention for some reason, she would just go over and begin stretching. She chewed on every plant. But, my goodness I miss her.

I used to tell her that she had to live until 2019 so I could say that Tom and I had had 50 years of cats, and she did. Tom doesn't want another cat, and I understand his reasons though I do ache for the presence of a kitty. But what I really ache for is my Raya. Gladys Taber would certainly understand.

Today's picture/Lucy the Labrador

Entering a contest

Last month my friend Les wrote a blog entry about the chance to win a gift card to either Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

"Post on your Facebook wall a photo of yourself, your spouse (or S.O.), or a pet reading Leveling the Playing Field.” 

I left a comment saying that I would if I were on Facebook. She wrote back saying that I could enter with a photo on my blog. 

Since neither Tom nor I have had time this busy summer to do much reading, neither of us has read the book yet. But I did buy it when it first came out, and one evening I looked over at Lucy in the chair beside me and lo and behold, she had fallen asleep reading.

It's a little hard to see the title, but the book is called Leveling the Playing Field by Rod Scher who happens to be Les' husband! He has his own blog called The Geekly Weekly which you may find here. 

Today's picture - Raya and Lucy

As I sat reading in the waning daylight, this was the sight across the room.

Today's picture - wood buddy

Lucy the Labrador is wild about wood! Tom piles it and she very carefully chooses pieces to pull off. She might pull one off the top, or pull one out that is five layers down. Sometimes there are up to ten pieces around the yard. It is just the funniest thing, as you can see from Tom's laughter. How we love this dog!

Today's picture(s) - Mud, mud, glorious mud

Today's picture/ Labs love water!

Lucy's favorite spot!

Introducing Lucy the Labrador!

I wrote in March about the death of our beloved Sadie. The weeks since have been very sad and lonesome. We haven't been without a dog in our lives since 1973. I began looking around for a pup and found a breeder of Labrador Retrievers less than an hour away, and she had one little yellow male pup available for July. We sent a deposit and looked forward happily to next month. And then a couple days later, the breeder posted on Facebook that someone had returned an 8-month old spayed female yellow Lab because of a change in their work situation, and she was available right now! Well, you probably can guess what we did. Yup. Drove over on Saturday and picked up this adorable, sweet-natured girl.

Her name is Lucy, which pleases us because we used to have a Belgian Sheepdog named Lucy when the kids were little. She is working out very well and is great with Hazel Nina.

I think Tom's laughter in this picture expresses the happiness we feel.

And here she is, laying at my feet under the computer desk as I write.

Death of our dog Sadie

Mary Oliver says in her book Dog Songs

And it is exceedingly short, his galloping life. Dogs die so soon. I have my stories of that grief, no doubt many of you do also. It is almost a failure of will, a failure of love, to let them grow old - or so it feels. We would do anything to keep them with us, and to keep them young. The one gift we cannot give.

Our beloved Sadie was put down yesterday afternoon after months of up and down health problems. During the up times we kept hoping she could come back, and during the downs we felt such despair. Yesterday we took her out walking just a little bit.

My poor old girl. How I miss her.

Piglet sitting

I think you may know that my daughter Margaret is a massage therapist. Her job is at a big hotel, but she occasionally has clients at her house in a specially set up massage room. Her dog Lexi is off in the woods, with their housemate and his dog, but Piglet the Pug can't keep up with them. She can't stay down at Margaret's house because she will just scratch at the door of the room. So, I spent a couple hours today Piglet sitting. I put Sadie in the laundry room, and Raya in a room upstairs.


We went outdoors a couple times,


but Piggie isn't really the outdoor type.


Mostly, she sat on my lap and we watched episodes of the first season of Crossing Jordan which has finally come on Netflix Instant.

The Second Monday and Tuesday in February

Some may look forward to the World Series, the Super Bowl, the Academy Awards, or the Grammys as their favorite television viewing of the year, but for me that special occasion happens on the second Monday and Tuesday in February, The Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show. It is an annual event in my life and here on the blog. Other than the time we didn't have satellite tv, I have written about it every year. It does, in fact, have its own section under 'Letter Topics,' and you may click there to read the dog-related ramblings from years past.

As you know, I really love dogs, and one of my personal favorite postings was a litany of all the dogs who have shared our lives since 1973. I take the choosing of a dog very seriously, and so I sit down each year with paper and pen in hand, jotting down descriptions that appeal to me. A dog in the show may be adorable, but unless I hear such phrases as 'unsurpassed family dog' or 'gives visitors cheerful welcome' or 'loves children' then I will continue to admire them on television only. As I've noted maybe too often here on the blog, our Sadie doesn't like anyone but Tom and I, Margaret, and Michael. If, for example, Matt is at the door with Margaret, you can see the extreme internal conflict Sadie goes through. She loves Margaret more than life itself, but Matt is a stranger and a danger from whom she must protect Margaret. So, into the laundry room she goes whenever anyone stops by who isn't part of the family. Luckily, she doesn't mind, and is quiet and well-behaved the whole time they are here. It's like she knows we are protecting her from herself.

We love her; that's all there is to it. And loving anyone, human or animal, means that you accept them with all their faults. And other than that one 'little' problem, there are no faults. In fact, she is probably the most loyal dog we've ever had, and it is sort of flattering to be loved above all others on the earth, but our choice would be a dog that loved everyone, like our Oreo. When the UPS man came, he would get right in the truck, and would have happily gone along to all the daily stops. Oreo would occasionally get away, and our friend Eddie would see him as he drove by. He'd open his truck door, and in would hop that sweet dog, whom our friend always referred to as 'my boy Oreo.'

So, without further ado, here are my choices from this year's dog show, with those wonderful American Kennel Club drawings.

Though last year I featured the Leonberger, and though I am still smitten with its looks, I read it can be rather short-lived and prone to some diseases so I think I will forego this breed. Some of the large breeds we are fond of also have shortish life spans, and frankly, though there are no guarantees, I'd like a dog that might live longer than 7-9 years. We lost two after seven years, and our dog-loving hearts broke.

First and foremost is the Smooth Collie. I've noted before that we didn't have enough years with our beloved MacIntosh; and we want the Smooth over the Rough for ease of grooming.

The Icelandic Sheepdog - the 'gives visitors a cheerful welcome' and '15 years is not an uncommon life span' dog

The English Setter - the 'unsurpassed family dog'

The Flat Coated Retriever

The Golden Retriever

The Labrador Retriever

All of these dogs would fit in just great at Windy Poplars Farm. Wouldn't it be fun to have six puppies, one of each breed?!

So there you have it. Another year, another list from the best two television nights of my year. I can't close without taking note of this year's winner, an adorable Pekingese named Malachy. Oh, the way he walked made me smile with delight, and that dear little face!


And I just loved this Purina commercial.

Addendum February 18.

I just read this:

If you are unprepared to potentially lose a dog at a young age (the average lifespan of the FCR is 7 years), then the Flat Coated Retriever is probably not the breed for you.

I can't get a dog with that expectation after having lost both MacIntosh and Ben at the age of seven. So, I am eliminating this potentially wonderful breed from my list. That Icelandic Sheepdog is looking better and better.

Addendum February 29.

After a mention in The Apothecary by Maile Meloy, which I finished today, I looked up the Samoyed, and wondered why the breed wasn't on my list. 'Bright, alert, gentle.' I'm adding this one. Look at that smile!

Addendum May 27.
Last evening I met a new-to-me breed. Our friend Billy has an Irish Terrier named Murphy, and for me it was love at first sight. He was cheerful and interested in us, but clearly loved his Bill. He has an impish, almost comical quality that was so appealing. I've been doing a lot of reading and now the Irish Terrier is high on my list.

Today's song/I Love My Dog - Cat Stevens

I offer this song on St. Valentine's Day as a reminder that all kinds of love may be celebrated today: love of boyfriends, girlfriends, children, books, gardens, pizza, cats, and dogs!

A St. Valentine's Day yawn from our Sadie - just another good day for a nap!

Today's picture/Cozy January afternoon

Nice warm wood stove.
A gripping book - The Circus Fire, nonfiction by Stewart O'Nan.
Raya, the cat.
Sadie, the dog.