Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.

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How Katie got her name

Riley, over at his blog has a contest going where we’re to tell the story about how our dogs got their names and we’re almost late with our entry!  Katie says I should get in gear and tell her story…tell how she became our Katie.

It’s not that exciting a story…but it does go to show you how the best laid plans of …well…dog owners…sometimes just go by the wayside.

When our sheltie-girl Bonnie died at age 15 we were heartbroken and we decided to take a break from owning a dog to let our hearts heal.  We lasted 2 months.    I’d been in touch with a small breeder but had told her we weren’t ready for a new puppy yet.  Then she emailed me and said she had a youngster she’d been keeping to see how she grew, intending to use her for a show dog, but that she had to find a home for her now.   The little girl was four months old.  And we were ready.

The day before we were going to go meet the newbie I made a list of all the possible names.  You know, names like Maddie and Maggie, Gracie and Gidget, Phoebe and Penny.  Girlie names.  I had maybe twenty choices and I left the list out on the counter for my husband when I left for the day.  I knew the breeder had named her Izzy and I liked that name too.

When I got home from work my husband said he wanted to name her Kate, after a dog he had when he was growing up.  Kate sounded like a nice Scottish name, appropriate for a Shetland Sheepdog, so I agreed.

When we went to “meet” her (as if there was any doubt we’d be bringing her home!) she hid behind a big chair and wouldn’t come to us.  The breeder was also a day care and the place was full of toddlers whose hands and highchair trays were full of hot dogs that Katie was more interested in than us.  Plus we’re pretty sure she wasn’t used to being around people very much, that she lived outside in the kennels.  Knowing her as I do now, the whole “meet the folks” thing was probably pretty traumatic.

The breeder watched with some worry on her face as we tried to coax Izzy to us without much luck.  I sat in the big chair and we waited quietly for her to come to us.  The breeder went into another room to get paperwork and I let my hand dangle down.  Izzy came to sniff and she let me pick her up!

When the breeder came back we were cuddling and all was right with the world.  The breeder was relieved.  We were in love.  Katie slept, upside down, in a crate in the back all the way home.  And she never cried once.

In retrospect Izzy might have been the perfect name, as it rhymes with dizzy, which she certainly is.  But now she’s our strong Katie-girl, all tough bravado and bark, and I can picture her on a cold, hard Shetland Island taking charge of the thunder and lightening just like she does here at home.  Except here she gets her own pillow (and often ours too) to retreat to when things get a bit overwhelming.

So she’s our Katie.  Named after a childhood pet, but very much her own personality.


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If it's Monday it must be obedience

So we went to week 8 of novice obedience school tonight.  Katie is much more comfortable in class now, as long as those other dogs and all those other people don’t get too close.  She’ll even stand for exam and let strangers touch her as long as I’m at the other end of the leash.

She was perfect on her sits and downs tonight.  We had a substitute teacher who did lots of distracting things.

 

Like putting a piece of cheese on the floor in front of each dog.  I  knew we were safe there as Katie won’t take treats from anyone but me.  Still, I was proud of her for not moving or even looking at it.  She was staring at me because “The lady was sort of close Mom!”

And on the long downs the lady walked back and forth in front of the dogs squeaking toys and throwing them around.  She walked behind dogs too, which I knew would totally freak Katie out…but the good news is that Katie had scooted back so far there wasn’t any room for the lady to walk behind her…so she sat still as a mouse while the lady marched back and forth in front of her.  Katie never took her eyes off of me.  I guess she knows she’s safe as long as she can see me.  That might be a problem if we ever progress past novice and I have to leave the room during the sits and downs.  But for now as long as we concentrate on each other we’re cool.

I think.

 


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The 5K

This afternoon I participated in a 5K.  I was physically alone, but spiritually with several other people across blog-land.  I first read about a 5K happening at noon on Sunday April 10 over at Gerry’s Torch Lake Views.  I think Robin participated in the 5K too.  A bit later Gerry decided to name her portion of the walk the Don Gould Memorial 5K.  I never met Don, but he seems like he was a great guy.  So on my 5K walk, miles away from the shores of Lake Michigan where Gerry walked, I thought about him, and lots of other great people I’ve known.

Soon enough though I got caught up in my surroundings.  We don’t have a lot of spring color here yet.  In fact things are pretty much the color of mud.

But it was warmer than we’ve had since last summer, and mud isn’t snow.  There were lots of sounds coming from the swamps.  Really loud sounds of peepers and blackbirds.  Funny how you can tell there are a lot of peepers only a few feet from you but you can’t see them!

I had a lovely walk through farmland and woods.

And I found a little bit of color near the end of someone’s driveway.

I’ve long given up on growing crocus in my yard.  Between chipmunks, squirrels and deer they never survive.  But it was nice to see some on my walk.

I think I went a little longer than 5K, along what used to be my favorite route when I was a runner.  I remembered where the mile markers were, but I wasn’t wearing a watch so I don’t know if I was fast or slow.  I suspect slow, but it really doesn’t matter.

What matters is that I was out on a walk, thinking about people and things and enjoying being out in the fresh air…and even out in the mud.  I think this is as good a time as any to start doing the 30 minutes of exercise every day for 30 days.  I think it’s on my 101 things to do.  So here I go…30 days…30 minutes a day.  Starting now.

Wish me luck!  And thanks Gerry, for motivating me to get out there and do more than my usual mile. I hope you had a wonderful 5K as well.

Even if you DID get rained on.

 

 

 


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How do you see the future when you're 95?

A couple of weeks ago I spent a day with husband’s 95 year old aunt.  She needed to go grocery shopping, she needed to find a pair of slacks to replace some she’s had since the 50’s and mostly she needed to get out in the fresh air after weeks of being cooped up in her apartment through a most difficult winter.

Though she’s in amazing shape for someone her age I can see that she gets worn out faster than she did just a year ago.  This time she allowed me to go back over to the other side of the large grocery store to pick up something we had forgotten.  Last summer we would have walked over there together.  She actually waited in the car while I ran into another store to pick up birdseed for her parakeet.  She never would have done that last summer.  And she leaned heavily on the cart at a clothing store, then sat in the dressing room while I went back and forth with items for her to try on.

Back in her apartment she was talking about people in her building that have moved into assisted living facilities.  There were three from her floor recently.  The reality of  aging is beginning to effect her, both physically and mentally.

Generally she’s a pretty upbeat person, but more and more when I call she’s having a “bad day” and doesn’t want to do anything, or even have a visitor.  I don’t recall her ever turning down an invite before.

All of this has me thinking about what it must be like to be 95.  To realize that there aren’t going to be years and years ahead of you.  To realize that you can’t do much of anything that you used to love to do….that you’re lonely but don’t really want to socialize.  That you’re bored but can’t see enough to do much of anything, even to really see the TV.

How does a person in this situation stay motivated to actively engage in life?  How can I introduce more variety to her life, keep her active in a safe way, challenge her mind?

Last week she asked me if the assisted living places let you bring your own furniture.  I realize I need to research these places so that when the time comes, and it may be sooner rather than later, I can help make the transition as easy as it can be.

Meanwhile I’m already missing my partner in adventure.  We used to just head out and see where we ended up.  Not so much now.  A combination of me working a lot, her having bad days, and nasty weather has really cut into our adventure time. But I’m hoping we have a couple more adventures in our future.

Before she has to make that big move.

 


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Got to the park before the sleet got to us.

There’s another (perhaps the last?) cold front coming through now.  Katie and I watched the weather on the news this morning and decided we would try to squeeze in a small adventure before the storm hit.

We just made it.

It was cold.  And windy.

And the park people had recently done a controlled burn of acres and acres of fields.

 

It smelled pretty bad to me, probably worse to Katie.

But we had fun anyway, and made it home just as the first spits of sleet hit the windshield.  I’d tell you what it’s doing now but I promised not to talk about s*&! anymore.


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How do you find a menu?

No, not the one on your laptop and not even those you get at restaurants.  I’m talking the daily grind menu; the one you have to come up with every day to feed your family.  Every single day.  Endlessly.

I realize I have it easy.  We don’t have kids to feed which would complicate the issue.  It’s just us two adults.  But we still have to eat.  For most of my marriage we worked on opposite shifts and when I got home from work in the evenings husband was already at work.  If I didn’t feel like cooking, and I rarely did, I’d eat something from the fridge, usually standing up.  I’d cook on the weekends and that was it.  Heaven.

Now we’re home together in the evenings and the pressure is on.  I recognize it’s a pressure of my own making, that I could probably insist that he get his own meals.  And he would.  But somehow I feel it’s my responsibility to make dinner for us.  If I’m terribly organized I will have made a couple of things over the weekend that we can eat all week.  If I’m not that together I struggle with getting something on the table before 8 at night.  Either way somewhere deep in my inner self I resent the necessity of it all.

The suggestion has been made that we put together a schedule of meals.  A sort of preplanned dining map, one that can be repeated on into the future, with attached grocery lists which will make it easier for the husband to buy the groceries that will be required.  Something totally opposite my usual process which is to go to the grocery store listless, wander around checking out what “looks good” and creating meals spontaneously.  Which I acknowledge hasn’t always worked out that well.

So.

As I sit here in the predawn darkness with my cookbooks surrounding me, trying to plan a month of meals I wonder.  How do other people handle this menu thing?  How do they feed their families day after day, week after week, into the forever future?

Or do you all just resort to those restaurant menus?

 


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Maybe it's just the weather

Yesterday at work during my ‘lunch’ break I went for a walk.  It’s the first walk I’ve done at work since winter set in.  I don’t know how far I went – it doesn’t matter.  What matters is that I got out of my beige cube, away from my dual computer screens and into the fresh air.

I talked to myself the entire walk, past the condos full of retired people, the elementary school with children running and squealing on the playground, the bigger homes quiet with everyone away at work and school.  Past the bits of wooded areas, filled with frolicking squirrels and a flock of robins bob bob bobbing along.  I reminded myself that I actually have it pretty good.  That none of the things that are bothering me are anything major and really, compared to many, I have absolutely nothing to complain about.   I reminded myself that you’re supposed to be able to choose to be happy and I just needed to get to getting with that.

“Happy happy happy” I repeated in my mind, in time to my steps.  That’s right…I’m just happy happy happy.  Darn.  My knee starts to hurt.  And my shoes are old and not as comfy as they should be.  Wait a minute…I’m happy happy happy.

And I was, as long as I was walking AWAY from the office!  Just like Katie when it came time for me to turn around and head back I was less than thrilled.  If someone had me on a leash and was urging me to get back in the car to go home, I’d have sat down and refused.  But I had to be the responsible adult.  So I went back to the office.

Still, the little walk made the day brighter.  But this morning taking Katie out I felt a little twinge in the knee.  Wait a minute..I forgot.

I’m happy happy happy.