One evening, while visiting friends in New York City last summer, we took the subway out to the end of the line to visit Coney Island.
Humans ride through the air on a man made roller coaster.
There, along the beautiful ocean shore is the famous amusement park, all of it made by humans.
Katie here.
I told mama she couldn’t hoard our blog all to herself cause I had stuff to talk about and I know my loyal subjects get impatient if they aren’t kept up to date on my life. As a princess I have certain responsibilities to all of you and I won’t allow mama to get in the way!
Ahem.
So anyway, remember when I told you that mama and I had retired from competition? We were living the life of leisure, lounging around eating bon bons and camping, and going for long walks on the beach. Life was good.
Relaxing in retirement.
And then the days got shorter and colder and mama said that I needed something to do since we wouldn’t be going on so many adventures! No more adventures mama? What are you talking about?
But you know what? It turned out just fine because she signed me up for school two times a week! As you all know I love school. People think it’s because I like to be challenged, but really it’s because I like the treats, and all the attention, and being called beautiful and stuff.
Don’t tell mama, I don’t want her to be disillusioned.
I’m going to nosework classes on Thursdays and rally classes on Tuesdays. It’s a blast. I especially like nosework. I mean, you’d think maybe a dog dreamed this game up. You just go into the ring, sniff a few boxes and stuff, tell your person when you find the scent and get a ton of treats! Really! You sniff a box, get a treat!
I absolutely love this game!
I pull mama into the ring at breakneck speed (OK, I usually zoom past the first 14 boxes, but I’m working on being more methodical) and run around like a crazy dog until my head swings around and I focus on one particular box and then I stare at my mama real intently until she figures out I’m trying to tell her “THIS IS IT MAMA!!!” and if I’m right…I get treats!
Hanging out in my crate. Boring.
So last weekend I went to my first nosework trial. Mama signed me up for two attempts. The first run was perfect, it took me all of 12 seconds to find the right box. Even mama was surprised! But the second run I was overconfident and told mama that two different boxes were the one, when in fact they were not. I was just anxious to get those treats you know, and mama fell for it. She says she learned a lot by that mistake, so it’s OK that we didn’t qualify on that leg. She says we’ll go back and learn some more.
And this weekend she and I went to a rally trial, the first one we’ve gone to in 4 years. We are competing in ‘excellent’ now, the top level, because I already got my title for ‘novice’ and ‘advanced.’ Mama was pretty nervous because most of the responsibility is on her.
She has to read the signs.
I could read them for her, but what would be the fun in that? Mostly I just sit when she says sit and down when she says down and think about following along with her in between. Unless I see something more interesting. Like a jump for example.
She signed us up for two runs this time too, she said she drove too far for us to only do this once, so I had to hang around for a few hours but that turned out to be OK because we met a new friend. This is Jade, she’s really friendly and really smart. Her mom is nice too.
Meet Jade!
Anyway, the first run I was a bit ditzy and wandered around a bunch and I think mama messed up on one sign, but we ended up with 90 out of 100 points and got 5th place, and mama just wanted to qualify so she was happy.
And our second run went even better. OK, not right at the beginning because I watched mama put my leash over to the left on a chair and after the judge lady said “Forward!” and we started out I decided to go over there and sniff out the situation. Cause why would mama put my leash over there? But mama called me back. Twice. And finally after an eternity (per mama) I got back in line and heeled my way around the course with her. We got a score of 98 and 2nd place, only 1 point behind our new friend Jade who got 1st place!
See my beautiful ribbon?
Jade and I each got a new toy!! We were all very excited.
So now I’m pretty worn out and need my princess nap, but I decided to stay up and tell you about my latest adventures instead. I know you’ll sleep better tonight knowing all is well in Katie’s world.
Mama’s going to sleep pretty good too. But don’t worry, I’ll be getting her up early tomorrow just like every day. I’m dependable like that.
Katie signing off for now. Hugs and kisses to all of you.
Mine mine mine!
Before the concert.
Lovely image isn’t it.
I went to the dress rehearsal Monday night expecting to have to leave early, but I found that as I played I began to feel better. My head cleared, my chest felt lighter, the cough receded. I made it through rehearsal with only a few sips of water.
I figured I had it in the bag.
Tuesday I lounged around the house, sipping tea with honey, eating cough drops like candy. Drinking water, drinking water, drinking water. Sitting in the car outside the concert venue I got a tickle in my throat.
Well darn.
I coughed out there until I was pretty much coughed out, and, grabbing my cough drops, my bottled water, my instrument, music and Santa hat, I headed inside. I felt pretty good again.
Our concert began with a performance by a bell choir. They make beautiful but quiet holiday music. I sat in the audience, in the center of a row sucking cough drops and drinking water. Straining to only cough during applause between numbers.
Bell choir creating delicate music.
And then it happened.
I felt the old familiar tickle in my throat. Oh no. Please don’t let this be one of those coughing jags. Please. I checked to my left…three people between me and the aisle. I checked to my right…two people sitting over there.
The piece on stage ended and applause started. I left my music and Santa hat on the floor, grabbed my instrument, put my head down, and, trying to muffle my coughs, ran down the row of seats and over the top of the two elderly people sitting in my way.
I stepped on the lady’s foot. She yelled “OWW!!” quite loudly. I hoped the applause was still going, I couldn’t tell over my own groans. I patted her on the shoulder and ran up the aisle and out into the hall. By then I could hardly see with the tears in my eyes as I continued to try not to cough.
In the ladies room I stopped trying to contain myself and just let go. Good thing no one else was in there! It took a long time, long enough for me to wonder if the bell choir was finished and we were up, but it didn’t really matter as I was in no shape to go public.
Eventually I crept back out of the ladies room, red faced and sweaty. Quietly I stood at the back of the hall, watching the bell choir finish it’s last piece. It was lovely. Peaceful. Christmas.
And then it was us. The big round majestic sounds of A Christmas Festival by Leroy Anderson filled the air. I breathed and played and filled my soul with the music of Christmas and it was good. No tickling in the back of my throat. No angst or fear of having to run and cough. Nothing but the sounds of the holidays filling up the space.
And Santa showed up to conduct our last piece.
Sleighride!
A perfect ending to a perfect evening with only a slight detour into the ladies room that is best forgotten.
Happy Holidays everyone, from Katie and me. May your time be spent with family and friends, and may we all be healthy and happy going into the New Year.
Sing-a-long with Santa.
.
I don’t always get sick after I fly, but if I do get sick it’s almost always after I fly. So I shouldn’t have been surprised when my throat began to get sore and I started to cough on Sunday afternoon, six days after landing back in Detroit.
It’s a bad week for me to be sick. Katie isn’t happy about it either. As I cough she barks. As I gasp for breath, tears running down my face, she barks harder.
Emphasis on blue
The community band Christmas concert is tonight, we had our dress rehearsal last night. This Friday Katie and I have her first Rally trial after an absence of four years. We had our last doggie school prior to the trial this morning.
Sunday night, and most of Monday I considered cancelling all these events. No one wants someone sitting near them hacking her lungs out. Plus my head hurts and my eyes hurt, and my ribs hurt.
But I’m the librarian at the band, and I needed to organize music, so I went to rehearsal figuring I’d leave early. And a funny thing happened as I began to play. The tickle in my throat receded. The coughing subsided. The music poured over me like a salve, the music beating the cold back into the recesses of my memory. For a couple hours last night I felt pretty close to good.
That’s what music can do.
White holiday lights
Today I’m drinking a ton of water, sucking down cough drops like candy, heating tea, taking cough medicine, and napping. Katie and I fit an abbreviated doggie school into our morning, but mostly I’m saving my strength for tonight’s concert.
Holiday tree
I’m not foolish, I’ll have cough drops in my pocket and a bottle of water by my chair, but I’m thinking I’ll get through tonight just fine.
And our Rally trial in a couple of days? Well, Katie says she’s ready, and if I can get my head straight we might get a leg toward her title. If not, she’ll probably forgive me.
After all, her mama is beating back a cold.
Dripping lights
Visiting her at the nursing home we talked about how difficult it is for her to adjust to her new life. Rules and roommates, the shared bathroom, the shower room down the hall.
“Sounds like you’re back in college and living in a dorm.” I laughed. “You just need to find some boys and a keg of beer and you’re good to go.”
She laughed too, but then her smile faded.
“It’s hard” she said. “There’s so much to learn here and that’s not easy when you’re a hundred and one!”
“You can do it,” I replied. “And I expect by next week you’ll be learning Italian.”
She laughed again. And then she said it. “Change is hard.”
I nodded in agreement. Yes, it certainly is.
Her bird, Charlie, aka Buddy, died this week, while in the care of a friend back at the apartment building. Maybe he died of a broken heart. Maybe he just got old. Regardless, it is another loss for her to absorb.
Loss after loss. She is strong, has been for 101 years. But this is a lot, would be a lot for anyone.
She says it best. “It’s hell to get old.”
RIP Buddy.
Katie here. I know, I know, you just heard from me, but that was back when I was thankful and right now I’m not feeling very thankful at all! Mama got home from her big Thanksgiving adventure and you’d think she’d be so happy to see me that we’d go to my park and celebrate.
But nooooo.
And it’s even worse! I have a little boo-boo on my front leg that I like to lick in the evenings when I’m bored. Mama and daddy keep telling me to stop and sometimes I do, sometimes I ignore them — it just depends how I feel about following directions. I am a princess you know.
They took me to two different vets and this last vet is going to do a little surgery on me soon to take it off. But meanwhile I keep licking it, and daddy noticed some pus coming out of it while mama was out of town. He called the vet and they gave me some medicine and told him to soak my leg in Epson salts.
Huh! Like that’s going to happen, right?
Well, now that mama is home they decided to try. First mama tried to train me to put my front leg into a big pot. She was giving me treats and saying ‘touch!’ Sure, I’d touch it with my nose but I’m not going to put my foot in that pot! She cooks in that thing, what is she thinking?
So I guess they decided to go big time. Tonight they filled the laundry room sink with warm water and salt and then they put me in it! All four legs!!!! With water up to my tummy!
This is not fair at all!
I wanted out! I tried my darnedest but they were right there saying ‘no baby’ and pretending to pet me but really they were holding me down!
It was sheltie abuse!
After a little bit though I kind of thought that the warm water was nice and I sat down. I kept my ears flat and my eyes big, and I gave them a combination of the sheltie stink eye and pathetic poor baby eye…when I’d look at them at all. Mostly I just kept my head turned away.
I was mortified.
I had to sit in that warm water for ten whole minutes! Then daddy rinsed me off with more warm water. Geeze. I already went to the groomer last week! I don’t think I needed another bath!
After that mama lifted me out and bundled me up in a couple of big fluffy towels and I got rubbed all over. Don’t tell them but I sort of liked that part. Then I shook the rest of the water out of my fur all over her. I think she was more wet than me when we left the laundry room. Plus she had to clean up the floor. And the door and the cabinets and some of the walls.
I don’t like being wet mama!
I looked pretty bedraggled when I finally got away from her, and I don’t know if I can forgive them. I’m making mama play a rousing game of piggy tonight to make up for getting me all wet.
And I think I deserve some treats while I’m drying out!!
She said something about the vet telling daddy to soak the boo boo every day for a week. I can tell you right now that tomorrow night is not going to go nearly as smoothly as tonight. Oh no. I know what’s up now people and I refuse to allow any sheltie soaking to occur ever again!
It’s war now! An Emsom salt war!
And you can bet on me to win. Shelties always win. And I’m a princess too so it’s guaranteed that this is not happening again.
Stay tuned.
Throw the pig mama!
Dad at my wedding in 1990
Many of you already know this organization because of all my posts about Dad who was killed by a tired trucker December 23, 2004. We’re coming up on the anniversary again, and though it’s twelve years now, it seems like yesterday that my family’s world was turned upside down.
Back then we weren’t sure what had happened to us, or why, but we knew it wasn’t right. And the more we learned, about the long hours truck drivers work, the conditions they work under, the more we realized it was something we wanted to help fix.
Just like Dad always fixed stuff for us.
TSC is the only organization singularly devoted to supporting victims of truck crashes as well as the families and friends who have lost a loved one in a truck crash. I encourage you to go to their website to learn more about all the supportive programs and advocacy in which the Truck Safety Coalition is involved.
Please donate to TSC this Giving Tuesday by clicking here (http://trucksafety.org/get-involved/donate/) to help make a difference in the lives of people dealing with tragic crashes and to help save lives by improving highway safety for everyone, including those driving commercial trucks.
If you were to talk to any of the families volunteering for TSC they’d tell you that they work for safety to honor their loved ones and to keep other families from suffering the same tragedy they cope with every day.
Please join us as we stand for safety.
And thank you very much for all the emotional support you’ve provided my own family over the years. We couldn’t have made it through without all of you.
Grew up to be my Dad.
Change Is Hard 