Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.


59 Comments

The thing about Katie

Dearest Katie,

The thing is, I thought you’d live forever. For so many months during your last year we thought we had it figured out. We were a great team, you, me and your daddy, on a strict schedule of meals and pills and head rubs. You were so good about eating the food you didn’t love, taking your pills in peanut butter, going outside to do your jobs so we could photograph and analyze your poo, even coming out of the bedroom in the middle of each night on your own to get your blue pill from your dad, right on schedule.

Until suddenly it didn’t work anymore.

And now when I wake up in the early morning, not because you’re huffing at me to go outside, but because the morning light shines in my eyes, my face is wet with tears and my very first thought is of you. And when I go to sleep at night, not because you insist it’s time to go to bed, but because I’ve worn myself out, my face is damp with tears and my last thought is of you.

And all through the day, when I glance out into our yard, where you lay on a blanket in the shade of a tree under blue skies with white puffy clouds and a soft early summer breeze, my eyes fill again. Sometimes I go stand out there, the place you left us, and silently call for you. I want you to come home. My head is filled with your lasts. Last walk, last time sleeping in the tent, last time at your park, last….everything.

But that’s not what I want to remember.

I want to remember all the wonderful things you did, we did together. I want to remember your days of running with a big grin on your face, and all the thousands of times you posed for a picture, and your joy in meals and ice cubes, and how you loved to catch snowballs and frisbees and run through tunnels and leap over legs and jumps and just how joyful you were, how very ready to go on the next adventure. Always ready.

You remember, don’t you, Katie-girl, how you weren’t sure you wanted to come home with daddy and me when we first met you? How you hid behind a chair when you were left alone with us for a moment that day we went to pick you up? How I came and got you and held you and you snuggled your head into my neck and in that instant you were ours. And we were yours.

Do you remember that first night at home? When you were so exhausted by all the change that you fell asleep upside down on the sofa? You were so tiny. But when you woke up you were a little tornado, always into something. If I didn’t know where you were, if you were quiet, I knew for certain that you were doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing. And loving every sneaky moment of it.

I was in graduate school and you didn’t allow me to read. Your entire life I called you my anti-reading dog because you always felt that if I sat down I should be focused on you. You napped while I did chores, washed dishes, clothes, or cleaned. If I was moving then all was right with your world and you’d settle in on one of your many beds and watch me until you fell asleep. But if I sat down, then all bets were off and I should be playing with you. No reading allowed.

And when you were young, if you really wanted attention and I was ignoring you, perhaps reading on the sofa, you’d leap up, walk up my body, stand with your little feet on my chest and bark at me. The only thing that kept you from continuing to bark was if I massaged your shoulders. You loved that. Your little feet would begin to hurt me, and I’d move you slightly as I massaged, but you’d move your feet right back, insisting on more attention.

As you got older we did more things together. Remember how much you loved doggie school? Even when we were doing obedience and you got bored with all the heeling and sitting and standing and waiting and coming, you still loved school. Mostly because of the treats. And, of course, all the attention you got because you were so beautiful. Everybody loved you. Everybody wanted to give you treats, but you’d only take treats from me. You’d sniff their offerings and then, as a true Princess, you’d turn your head away. You broke so many hearts, little girl.

You got your CD title in AKC and your Rally Excellent, and then we both retired. You weren’t excited about competing, all that waiting around, and your mom couldn’t get those rally signs down anyway. Your job was to follow mama around the ring, not your fault if mama couldn’t read. You tried a bit of agility, but didn’t like waiting for your turn. A princess, should, always go first, right? Plus there was the scary teeter, and don’t even talk about that chute thing!

And then your mama introduced you to scent work. Man, you loved that game! Sniff a box, get a treat! How perfect was that. You loved, loved, LOVED going to scent work school! You couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, you pulled on your leash the entire evening, begging your mama to let you get into the ring and find the right box! I felt bad that we didn’t pursue it further, little girl, you loved it so. But we were traveling more, remember? That made up for missing classes, right?

Remember all the camping trips in northern Michigan sweetie? All those walks under towering pines at Hartwick Pines, or along the beaches of Lake Michigan and Lake Huron? I never got you up the Lake Superior, but those waves might have made you nervous anyway. You weren’t sure about waves at all the first time we walked on the beach, and they were just tiny waves. Your ears went flat and you turned your back on them. Your face told me that my fantasies of walking my dog on the beach at sunset were not likely to happen. But later on, when you got more brave, you ran on the beach and barked at those old waves. You were set on protecting your mama from the danger they presented. Mama tried not to laugh.

And remember when we traveled to Alabama and you ran up and down the dock barking at the waves? You were so cute. You loved the Alabama house, with the air conditioning vents in the floor, perfect for cooling a sheltie tummy. You loved exploring Smith Mountain and the boat rides with your Uncle and Aunt. You loved sleeping on the deck overlooking your lake and napping in grandma’s chair by the big window. And you loved visiting friends, especially the farm with all the horses.

Remember visiting your Aunt’s house? She made you a special bed and you slept on it along with your new toy Mr. Porcupine. We went on long walks in brand new parks, and you got to sniff new smells in downtown Columbus along the riverfront. Why that walk was so long you got to walk in Georgia and Alabama before you made it back to the car!

And you loved running on the beach with your boyfriend Reilly and his dweeby brother Denny down in Florida, remember? You visited them more than once and you always had a wonderful time with them and their parents. The special treats you got while you were there were unrivaled! Let’s just say doggy ice cream was a hit. It was a special time in your adventurous life wasn’t it, girl.

You were lucky you got to meet so many people. Remember Ricky and Callie and their folks? How you had such a good time walking in the ravine, though you wouldn’t walk across that little stream, even after watching Ricky and his mom do it? You made me go back and carry you across, though the rocks were little more than damp. I guess it’s true a princess does not get her feet wet. And you made me carry you up the stairs at their house too. Repeatedly. You figured out how to go down stairs there, when Ricky showed you how, but you refused to go up. Silly little girl.

Sometimes we had adventures closer to home, remember? We’d meet people and go for walks in all sorts of parks. Remember your friend Deuce? We went for plenty of walks with him and his mom. We even went on one walk with him and his brand new little brother Ace. Ace was just a tiny bundle of fur and you were a mature girl of 13 or 14. You told him in no uncertain terms to back off, and he did. By then you were turning into quite the diva, but we figured you’d earned it.

You loved your walks with Queen Abby too. She was sedate like you, and the two of you ignored each other most of the time, except when the moms made you sit for a picture. Even then you didn’t want to sit too close together, you both knew about royal space requirements. But you sure enjoyed some wonderful walks together.

You had good walks with your friend, Peep, too. Lots of long walks in the woods, in all kinds of weather. Peep introduced you to one of your favorite parks in Holly Recreation, where we ended up camping so many times. We wouldn’t have even known about it if it weren’t for Peep explaining how great the park was.

And let’s not forget your time with your sister Payton! Two peas in a pod, you two. You only got to meet twice, but you both loved your walks together. In fact it was with Payton that you walked around Katie’s Park for the last time. You guys were so cute together, I’m glad we were able to spend time with Payton and her folks. I think they loved you too.

In fact, sweetie, I think that’s your legacy. Love. Everybody loved you. You had a huge fan club filled with people, most who never got to meet you. They all feel like they know you, they all loved you, and they all miss you. I know you’ve seen all the cards we’ve received in the mail, all the emails, all the comments on your blog, all the neighbors expressing their sadness.

We all thought you’d live forever, little girl. And I guess you will, just in another way. It’s been a month now. The longest month of my life. The shortest month of my life. I saw you out of the corner of my eye a couple nights ago, heading down the hall to the bedroom as the evening light dimmed. Just like normal, heading off to bed when it got dark, looking over your shoulder to see if I was coming. It was just a shadow, not really you. Or was it?

Come visit me again, sweetie. I take comfort in knowing you are up there with so many that love you, lots of your doggie friends, and members of our families. I know you’re just fine sweetie, no more achy hips, no more upset tummy. You’ve got all sorts of great treats to munch on, and snowballs and frisbees to catch, wonderful beaches to run on, and lovely woods to walk in with so many great smells it’s beyond description.

Watch for us at the bridge, baby-girl, because we’ll be looking for you, our beautiful Katie, when we get there someday. Your daddy and I miss you so much, we will always and forever be yours.

Run fast and free sweet Katie-girl, we’ll see you again one day.


28 Comments

Of wings… or the attack of the red bellied

I’ve hidden my babies over here.

It’s that time of year where a walk through the woods reveals babies everywhere.

Hurry up, I only have a 10 minute break from the babies this morning, lady!

I visited my favorite park early one morning after a night of rain.

Did you bring us all something to eat?

The parking lot was virtually empty, and the birds were frantic for some breakfast.

Make way! I, the big bad red-winged blackbird require food!

Swarms of blackbirds and starlings swirled around me. The little birds tried to get some attention too.

Talk to the wing, blackbird!

They lined up on the railing for a chance to get something to eat.

“Lady! We’re hungry!”

The rose breasted grosbeak got first dibs. Just based on beauty. Plus he was pushy.

Nom, nom, nom Thanks lady!

Even the mourning dove hopped over to get a treat. I’ve never had either the grosbeak or a dove land in my hand before.

“This is a joke, right? Did that pig the grosbeak eat all the treats?”

Eventually everybody got something.

“About time, lady.”

And then I went on down the trail

“Come on into the woods, lady. It’s not your responsibility to get them ALL fed.”

Where I quickly ran into this family out for a morning stroll. I first noticed an adult with a teenager almost as tall. Notice the teenager’s knees.

“Meet my son, Junior.”

Then the other parent emerged from the trees to complete the family.

“Come on over this way, mom and dad, I think the best stuff is on the other side of the trail.”

Once I edged carefully by them, which wasn’t easy because one of the parents was keeping an evil eye on me, I found a papa red bellied woodpecker. And his son.

“Watch this, son.”

To be accurate, I didn’t find him. He got my attention when he dive bombed me. Repeatedly.

He wasn’t interested in coming in for a treat. He flew right at me, did a touch down on my head and landed in a tree behind me. Then he came back and hit me in the head before landing back in the tree with his young one.

“I see you lady, move on down the road, OK?”

He did this over and over, as I continued to duck and weave and move on down the trail.

Eventually he picked up a bit of seed that I had flung behind me as a desperate distraction and perched on a broken branch to peck it open.

“First you have to crack the seed open, son.”

And then he fed it to his youngster who had been following all the excitement eagerly.

“Here, taste this, pretty good, ey?”

I crept away as they were eating.

Lots of little birds came in for a snack once I was away from the attacking woodpecker.

“Thanks!”

I enjoyed their visits in the quiet woods.

“Coming in for a landing, lady!”

It was peaceful out there, not many people wandering the trails.

“Good morning mama.”

And then I heard a squealing and yelling headed in my direction.

“This way!”

The quiet of the woods was interrupted, but I was OK with that. Kids need to spend time outside too.

“Thanks for the dive-through service, lady!”

So I headed out to the rookery to see if any of the teenagers were still there.

“Where’s the lunch lady?”

Many of them were. I guess they’re planning on staying as long as mom and dad are willing to feed them.

I witnessed one parent arriving with something good to eat. The craziness is hard to sort out in pictures. And the noise was amazing.

“OK, ok. I’m here with lunch. Settle down you two!”

Personally I think it’s time the folks kick the kids out. Most of them are flying from their nests to other branches, but come back to the nest for food.

“Hey! I want some over here too!”

None of the commotion appeared to distract the egret, just below, from continuing his grooming. Egrets move in when the herons leave the rookery. This guy was early I guess.

“Kids. Can’t wait until the neighbors move out!”

And then I left the park, stopping for a moment to check on the osprey nest where the youngsters were flexing their wings too.

“Hey! I think I’m getting this flying thing!”

Another good walk in the woods.

So peaceful. So fun. So exciting. You take your pick around here!

Babies everywhere, all growing up so fast.

“Parenting is so exhausting.”


37 Comments

A conversation with Katie

Hey baby-girl, where are you?

Right here, mama, inside your heart. I’m always right here, just like I was before, only then I was mostly under your feet. Remember?

Oh yes, sweetie, I remember always being careful where I stepped, especially after you went deaf.

I wasn’t really deaf mama, I just chose not to pay attention.

I thought so, little girl. Well, now that you’re hearing again, keep track of us, OK?

I will, mama. I know you’ll always need me. And when you do, I’ll be right there. Cause we’re a team forever.

Thanks sweetie. Love you.

Love you too, mama.


29 Comments

Starry night 2

After our first night under the stars I went back to the hotel, arriving around 5:30 a.m. ready to get some sleep. Unfortunately most of the hotel housekeeping staff, whose laundry room was across the hall from me, were arriving as well. And don’t even talk about the family with three kids who were in the room next door.

Anyway.

I gave up on napping and drove around a little bit looking for barns. And as the afternoon wound down I went out to the lake to see what kind of sunset was going to happen.

And to people watch.

Both were fun, but I was really waiting impatiently for the skies to darken again.

My friend and I were meeting at Esch Beach at midnight where we hoped to shoot the Milky Way amongst a stand of tall, dead trees. It seemed promising.

It turns out that on a warm Friday night the beach is a busy place. Lots of people sitting next to lots of fires which lit up the trees with a bold, red glow. OK then. We’ll just consider that our light painting and work with it.

While we were shooting the trees we listened to the group of people sitting right behind us discuss what we were doing. “Are they taking pictures of the Milky Way?” “IS that the Milky Way up there or just a bunch of clouds?” “Do you think I can get it with my phone?” “Look how cool that looks on the back of their cameras!”

When we moved off, closer to the beach, to see if there were northern lights (my friend was getting alerts for the lights on her phone) over the lake they were all standing up pointing their phones to the sky.

Made me smile.

And guess what? Though we couldn’t see anything but darkness out over the water, the cameras told us otherwise. It was my first time ‘seeing’ the northern lights. I was pretty excited.

Then more carloads of people began to arrive, so we decided to drive back to Point Betsie and try to get some more Milky Way images. The night was young. The air was warm. The lake calm. No time to waste!

No one was out on the beach at Point Betsie, and I shot my favorite house in the dunes again.

Then we walked up closer to the lighthouse, for a different angle.

It was pure magic and I loved being there in the warm darkness. I took a few images and then just sat down on a piece of cement in front of the lighthouse and watched the sky and listened to the gentle waves.

We didn’t mean to stay out all night again…it just happened. And when we finally left it was hard for me to say goodbye to my lake.

Lake Michigan is special no matter the season or circumstance. The lake under the stars?

Priceless.


30 Comments

Stars, the first night

It’s taken me a few days to sort through the images from my two nights of photography. Looking through them I’m transported back to those warm nights again.

A place in the sand.

Before my photography friend arrived that night I spent a few minutes capturing the sky above the dunes and houses along the road. It was an image I’d had in my head since my last trip up to this area, back in May. I think it looks like an amazing painting, and I’m glad I got to go back and get it.

Once she arrived we went down to the beach to see what there was to see.

Our first glimpse of the beach.

It was a very windy night. We were pushing our tripod legs deep into the sand to try to reduce camera shake. The wind was cool, but I never felt cold until we stopped shooting. The adrenalin kept me warm.

Lighting up the sky.

The sky was stunning. The Milky Way was so clear. And when we turned around to face north the lit lighthouse was beautiful too.

The moon and several planets were supposed to line up around 4:30 that morning, so though we were done shooting the lighthouse and the Milky Way around 3:00, we thought it would be a waste not to stay and see. It was warmer up on the road, and we stood around talking as we waited for the moon to come up.

Waiting for the moon to wake up and join the party.

The moonrise was stunning, but it was rising through a bank of clouds and only intermittently visible. And in the end we didn’t see them all lined up, just Jupiter and sometimes Mars, and the moon.

The lighthouse catches me trying to grab an image of the pole and the Milky Way.

But even without planets we were both smiling when we finally headed to bed just as the sun was beginning to light up the world.

We knew we’d had a wonderful night under the stars, and if we were lucky we’d be out the next night too.

Stay tuned.


24 Comments

Not photographed

I met a friend at Kensington today. She’s a budding birder. Me? I’m just trying to get focused bird images.

The little birds weren’t particularly hungry today and not many were coming down to grab a treat. Besides, she wanted to add new birds to her life list…so we didn’t spend too much time trying to tempt the regulars.

Wait ladies! I’m just a baby, a little slow on the uptake. But I’m cute!

We were wandering out to a boardwalk that bisects a wetland when we noticed a squirrel trotting down the path toward us. I was a bit concerned because it seemed to be a fast trot, and I didn’t want it running up our legs. And then I realized this was a very long squirrel. Kind of skinny too. And it had something in it’s mouth.

When it got close, just before it veered off into the weeds next to us, I realized it was a mink. I’ve never seen a mink before. I had a camera hanging around my neck. Did I get a picture? No I did not. I was too busy processing what I was seeing. A mink, with a mouse, or perhaps a vole, in it’s mouth trotted right by and I have no image to show for it.

Oh well.

A beautiful day.

We moved on down the path to the boardwalk where we began to hear at least two Common Yellowthroat birds. They were calling, quite loudly, from trees on both sides of the path. My friend was using her binoculars and I was using my camera to try to find either one of them.

I’ve never actually seen one, and I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for, so I looked for any small bird. She saw it first, and then I saw it hop from one branch to another. And then it flew right toward us and landed, for a split second, on the boardwalk just to the left of me.

I had time to register the swooping black eye patch and the bit of yellow, and then he was off, following the call of the other one behind us. Did I get a picture of this beautiful bird while it was there on the path beside me? No I did not. I was too busy processing the fact that the bird had actually landed so close.

Oh well.

We spent a long time on that boardwalk, looking for more Yellowthroats. We heard them and caught brief glimpses of them flitting among the branches. I actually have one sort of bad image, and was lucky to get that.

A yellowthroat contemplates us looking for him.

While we were there a blue jay landed on a limb of an oak tree above us. He watched my friend as she offered treats to a couple little birds without success. He hopped closer, tilting his head to peruse her hand. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that the blue jays never come down for a treat, they all wait until you give up and move along, then they swoop down to gather from the ground whatever you’ve left behind.

He’s calculating how he’s going to get a treat from us without lowering himself to our expectations of gratitude.

As I was fiddling with the camera settings to get a picture of him above her he dropped straight down, wings folded, a little torpedo headed right for her hand. He landed on it with a plop which scattered the seed from her hand onto the boardwalk. In the midst of the chaos he grabbed a peanut and flew back up into the tree to gloat while he enjoyed his spoils.

We looked at each other stunned. So…did I get the picture? I did not. But it really happened, I can get my friend to vouch for me.

There was a bird on these branches. Honest.

Oh well.

Eventually we headed back to our cars, happy that we had seen the mink and the Yellowthroat, and even the blue jay. And as I drove out of the parking lot I saw a sandhill crane couple with their two teenage colts. A lovely image. Did I get the picture? I did not.

There was nowhere to park and by the time I did and walked back I got one very poorly focused image of the back of one baby as they slipped off into the tall grass.

So….this post will have to fuel your imagination. Imagine walking down a wooded path on a beautiful warm breezy day. Imagine a mink running toward you and a beautiful little yellow bird flying by and a big ole blue jay figuring out how to get a contactless treat and a whole beautiful family of cranes complete with twins.

It’s always a good day out here. Even if you don’t get perfect pictures.

I bet, if you do all that, you’ll be grinning as much as we were, in fact you won’t be able to help yourself.

We sure couldn’t.


37 Comments

Starlit solace

I went on a little adventure this week, two nights spent near Lake Michigan shooting images of the Milky Way. It didn’t escape my attention that I went without my girl. Or that I went in part because it was too hard to be here without her.

And it worked. For two glorious nights I stood in silky sand with my lens pointed at the sky and I was happy.

Last night, after I was finished shooting while waiting for my photographer friend to finish her work, I sat alone in the sand, gazed up at the Big Dipper and talked to my dad, a warm breeze drying the tears on my face.

Pt. Betsie lighthouse on a warm summer night.

Hey Dad. I know you and Mom never met Katie but she’s up there now. Take care of her for me, will you? She might be scared to be so far away from her mama and daddy. I don’t want her to be scared, so please reassure her. And she likes her shoulders to be massaged. If you could do that for me, I’d appreciate it.

Tell her we love her, and miss her, and we’ll see her again someday.

PS: I’ll have more images to show you from the past two nights once I get them all sorted. It was pretty amazing, millions of stars crowding the sky, the Milky Way glowing.

I felt lucky to be there. Even without my girl.


29 Comments

Backyard fun

The squirrels have taken over. Katie would be incensed.

“I leaped over here for breakfast, but something seem to be amiss.”

They do provide entertainment though.

“That feeder should be RIGHT HERE!”

And distraction. They all take flying leaps over to a hanging birdfeeder, then eat until they are full.

“I’m so hungry I can hardly move.”

Or until one of us goes out and chases them off.

“The food service around here has declined. I should write a new review for Squirrels Monthly.”

But they come right back. So mostly we just sit and watch the antics.

“The food lady here is pathetic. I’m starving to death and she’s inside taking pictures.”

And then this guy showed up. I thought he was a female, one of the mama deer who are hanging around with their babies.

“I need to watch over my ladies.”

But I guess he’s not a her.

“Maybe I can get something to eat while I’m here.”

Sure is beautiful though.

“Nope. The squirrels are right, there’s nothing good to eat around here.”