All You need is LUB

Pictured: Sebastian cat and Daisy dog nap quietly together.

I thank God every day for my little family.
Without my mutt-ley crew, I truly wonder if I would be able to deal with the slings and arrows that life shoots at me on a daily basis. Nothing calms my brain or raises my spirits more than Dogwood kisses, which we call LUBBINS. I am so happy for those.
Not only am I thankful for their love, their warmth, their loyalty, and their undying devotion, but I am thankful for the fact that they all genuinely love each other and co-exist together as a family unit.
Lucy, my oldest, is the true Queen and Matriarch of our furry family. She watches over them, administers nightly cleaning (it's a tad on the wet side), and acts as if each one of her little charges were her own pups.
Charlie, my special child, is every body's big brother. He is one of the sweetest souls I have ever known, and he loves each and every one of his five brothers and sisters dearly.
My little rat terror (I mean terrier) Hines, is my little tough guy. Yes, he's small, but he can run with the big dogs--which he has proven every day for the past five years. Of his fellow canines and buddy felines, Charlie is his favorite. He looks up to his big brother, and his big brother loves it.
Crazy Daisy is every one's friend. This little sweet heart knows nothing but love, and every moment her little brown eyes is open is a moment for PLAY!  Though she is truly the child that bears watching, there is no malice or spite in her mischief. She has a heart of pure gold.
Little Bart the cat is another love bug--but he doesn't want anyone to know it. He waits until everyone is asleep in bed before he sneaks up to lie on my chest and rub his furry face in my hands.
Sebastian, the last to join our merry little band of misfits, is a walking, talking valentine of pure and unbridled affection. I could not sleep at night unless I felt that little furry presence snuggled into my arm, and those loving sandpaper licks that he lays across my face.
Then finally--there is the Better Half. Where of where would my life be today without my best friend, my soul mate, and my co-parent to this batch of furry felons??? That is truly a question that I hope I never have to answer.
Together, these eight heart beats fill our house with joy and love to create a special place that we call Dogwood.  We don't need fancy things, or tons of money to be happy.
All we need is "LUB".

ZEINA UPDATE!!! LOOK AT HER NOW!!!!

Back before Christmas, I shared the need of a dog who had been shot, it's hip shattered. Her leg and spine were being flopped all over because there was nothing left to hold it together. She had a "S" shape that made my heart break into a million pieces. The Hickman County Humane Society was trying desperately to raise the funds needed to have the leg amputated so there would not be horrific damage to the rest of her body.

If this could not be accomplished, Zeina was to be euthanized.
But as usual, everyone came to bat for this sweet baby.
Pictured here , little Zeina, minus a leg--BUT ALIVE! She is IN A FOSTER HOME and is ALL BETTER. The  HHS hopes for her adoption to happen very soon. She is a brave girl who deserves a second chance!

Thank you all--and THANKYOU GOD!

The "Other" Lucy of Long Ago

You all know about my sweet black Lab: Lucy. She is the first born at Dogwood, and the grumpy old apple of Daddy's eye.  But she was not the first four legged Lucy in my family tree. Once upon a time, long ago, there was another Lucy, of a different four legged variety, that provided companionship was just as loved just as much as the current canine that bares that name.

My grandmother was a miraculous woman who came of age at the beginning of the Great Depression. Like many women of her era, she worked every job and chore imaginable to help keep the family afloat through the hard times. Those hard times gave her a bountiful number of stories to tell her grand kids. This tale was always one of my favorites.


When the effects of the Great Depression reached North Carolina., my grandparents had been married only a few years. Both came from large families that worked together for the common good of all. Employment had dried up and the whole family was out of work. My Grandfather knew a man who owned a grown up bit of land, and struck an agreement with him. In exchange for clearing the parcel, he would be allowed to live on and farm the land. So, my grandparents and ten of the siblings moved there and built two log cabins. Together, they cleared the land, planted, and kept the families going by selling what they could of the produce and crops while living off the rest.

One of the first purchases made with the little money they had was a pig. My grandmother loved all animals and struck up a strange friendship with the little pig that she named Lucy.

Between the time of the land being cleared and the crops growing, the family members would fan out across the county, looking for sustaining income until the farm produced. Sometimes Grandma was alone until someone returned. Lucy the pig was her constant companion. They tried in vain to keep her in a pin, but Lucy cried and cried so that Grandma couldn't bare it. So Lucy ran about outside, following her every step.

Lucy grew in to a good sized pig. Usually, a pig was raised to feed the family when it's time came. But no one dared mention the thought of sacrificing little Lucy.

By the end of the first year, the family had cleared and planted part of the land, surviving the winter from its bounty. In the spring, it was decided that they would plant another section. Everyone worked to clear the overgrowth and trees. As they cut , the brush was piled in several large heaps, and then burned. Each man took charge of a pile and added to it after it began to burn.

When one of the piles caught, there was a blood curling squeal from somewhere in the mass of tangled vines and branches. My grandmother dropped the load of brush from her arms and ran towards the sound. Lucy, who was rooting around the clearing, had rooted herself a path into brush pile and lain down. The pig came out of the burning pile straight to my grandmother, the fur on her backside scorched off by the flames.

Lucy survived, shaken but alive. She lived on for another few years before an illness took her and other farm animals in the bottom lands. Until the day she crossed the rainbow bridge, she was ever faithful to my grandmother, and my grandmother to her.  
I'd heard her tell this story a thousand times. Each time, I could see the love in her eyes and hear the tenderness in her voice when she remembered her precious little pig.

My Grandmother left us twenty three years ago,but her stories still live in me. Maybe it's the times we are living in now, but I've been thinking of this tale a lot lately. I feel that she's reminding me that even when times are tough, the love of family, and even little pigs, can turn things around.  I miss her terribly, and not a day goes by that something doesn't remind me of her. But as long as I remember stories like these, she will live in my heart.

I like to think that when she crossed over into "Beulah Land", her loved ones were waiting to greet her, and among them, was little Lucy.