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.

LUCY AND THE SCREEN DOOR

My Daddy's unquestionable, nonnegotiable, concrete rule has always been, and forever shall be, "no animals in the house". He really loves animals, as long as he doesn't have to live with them.


I had hoped that as the years went by, he might bend on the subject...or at least lean.

But to this day, it’s: "When are you coming home?" followed by "Don't bring those dogs!"

Though I now live just down the hill from them, when I lived over an hour away, it was very difficult to visit and not have to rush home to make sure my kids were taken care of. The one time I tried to cut corners and bring them along to Grandma and Grand pa’s--it didn't work out so well.

A few years ago, we went to spend a day with my folks. Because Charlie was 3 months old, and Lucy was just over a year, I decided they were too young to spend a full day alone. So, we took them along with us, thinking, "What can they possibly hurt?"

The folks weren't happy that the dogmatic duo was present, but tried to be pleasant.

We spent the day sitting out under the elm tree. Charlie and Lucy were both on retractable leashes and behaved very well. It was a nice, uneventful day.

Then Momma mentioned supper.
My dogs are just as country as I am; knowing darn well that SUPPER means food will be made available and in mass quantities. They were ready to roll!

Daddy didn't see it that way. "Don't you think your bringin' them dogs in the house" he said.

I wound Charlie's leash around a porch post, and Lucy's around the elm tree, deciding I could eat quickly and come back. Charlie settled down in the grass for a nap, but Lucy was inconsolable. Separation anxiety issues have always been Lucy’s way of telling us that she can’t live without us---and a valium.

As we filed thru the aluminum storm door, the sounds of wailing and crying were filtering through its raised screen window.

Momma was in the kitchen, Daddy had gone to wash up, and Better Half and I were setting the table. Suddenly there was a huge BANG! I ran to the back door to see what had happened.

There, in a tangle of wire mesh and aluminum was Lucy.
She had snapped her leash, pushed the screen of the door through with her front paws, and was now stuck: head and shoulders inside and butt dangling outside. She was kicking like a mule, trying to get herself in, and each kick to the aluminum bottom was like an explosion of thunder.
I could only imagine the explosion my Daddy would have when he saw my dog teetering back and forth in his door. It was the only time I was grateful that his hearing wasn’t what it used to be. He would have killed Lucy and then ME!

I set a new speed record: smacking the frame together, slipping the wire back into it with my pocket knife, and getting it back into the door before Daddy entered the kitchen.

We quickly sat and ate. As soon as we finished, I made a comment on how late it was, packed up the hounds of hell and sped off.
After the screen door incident, there were no visits to Grandma and Grandpa from the pets. They would rather lie at home and watch TV anyway.

All and all it worked out for the best.

To this day, my Daddy doesn't know that not only was there a dog in his house.

It’ll be our little secret.

BROKEN HEARTED

I know now how they feel.

I have nowhere to run, nowhere to hide so that I can have a meltdown, no one to confide in. No one wants to hear my cries; no one wants to see my tears. I sit in a cubicle, trying desperately not to scream my head off in despair. I am completely and utterly alone in the grief and sadness that I am drowning in.

This must be what every poor animal that sits in a cage, waiting for the needle, must feel. It’s the anxiety and fear and utter hopelessness of the shadow of death approaching and the ticking away of the last hours that they are allowed to live.

It was death that brought me to this understanding---this realization of being caged on the inside—unable to let my heartbreak burst forth, unable to do anything to change the situation that is killing my spirit.

You see, I set myself up once again for a fall—the big fall. I fell in love with a little four year old black lab named Duchess. She stole my heart from the first time I laid eyes on her.

I got a call today, telling me that Duchess was found dead in her kennel when the shelter workers arrived this morning. They are all stunned, as she showed no signs of any ailment or illness yesterday. It is believed that Duchess succumbed to a new strain of the parvo virus that attacks adult dogs.

All I know is that this sweet, innocent animal that I have spent the last two Saturday mornings loving and playing and rompingwith… is gone forever.

I know the score. Animals are put to sleep everyday by the trailer truck loads, and no matter how hard we fight, it still happens every hour of everyday.

But this dog was safe. This dog was in no danger of being euthanized. She had a future, a destiny that she had yet to fulfill. It’s hard enough to swallow when good animals are put down because no one wants them—but to have to swallow this too! How can I?

How can God be so good one minute and so cruel the next? How can he allow something that looked at me with the purest heart and love ever created be left to die in the night, all alone, with no one there to help her? How could he take her away—knowing I loved her so much?

Yes—I know—she wasn’t mine. But I loved her like she was.

Oh I know—I shouldn’t put this much feeling into an old dog that nobody else wanted. There are children starving and babies being born in trash bins and enough death and destruction on this globe to break anyone’s heart if they stopped and took it all in. I should be mourning for humanity--not some old dog.

So why does it hurt so much?

Why does the fact that I will never see that smiling, shining face ever again  rip a hole in me the size of the Atlantic Ocean? Why do I feel like screaming in pain and throwing up at the same time???

It's like having the brakes slammed on in mid-flight. It's over--there's no more. Duchess will never chase the rope toy I bought for her again. She’ll never sit, or lie down and speak for a bit of a milk bone again. We’ll never get a chance to finish learning “roll over” or “shake”. I’ll never get another wet kiss across my face, or see those brown eyes sparkle and look at me like I was the most important thing in the world.

I don’t understand this. I just don’t. I try so hard to do good and to be good and make things better, and is this the great reward??  I'm not made of stone! You can't help animals and be brick hearted!!!!!

Pity, pity, pity ---poor, poor, me.

All I know is that something I loved is gone—stolen away. I didn’t even get to say good-bye.

I don’t understand—I’ll never understand. It’s wrong—it’s cruel and mean and it’s just not right. I’m mad at God about it—as a matter of fact I am furious over it. I know you’re not supposed to do that—but right now I just can’t help it. It’s just another shitty part of life—right? Be a man—suck it up—take it on the chin—and all that crap.

And in the end—it all comes down to the age old question that we ask every time we lose something that we love: Why God? Why?

UPDATE: The BIG RED SAGA continues!

A while back, I introduced you to a fella named BIG RED and  asked for your help in aiding the Humane Society of Dover-Stewart County provide the means for an animal to have an important operation on his hip.

Here's an update on the big guys status that was posted to Face book by the Dover Humane on Friday -Jan 13, 2012
"Big Red had his very successful hip operation on Tuesday. Thank you Dr. Lewis & staff, well-wishers and donators, and the Gant family!"

So Red had made it thru the surgery with flying colors. Not only will her walk well again--he will make a full recovery. It seemed that the miracles were just gonna keep on rollin' for this guy when  a family stepped up and offered to ADOPT him! They took him straight out of his recovery, and into their wonderful loving home.
 BUTTTTTTTT, there was a little bit of a problem as recorded in this next post from Saturday, January 14:

"UPDATE: Big Red growled at their 2 little dogs and this made them nervous, so they returned him last night. However he has several back-up adopters and going to new home tomorrow morning."

So the Big Red Saga continues. I would like to thank the family who tried to adopt him, and I respect them for having the care for their other animals to avoid any possible problems or tragedies that might have occurred between Red and their little dogs.  They did what a responsible pet owner does--make sure everyone is safe, and happy, and where they belong.

I know it's a big let down when an adoption doesn't work out--but the Lord will make sure Red gets to the place he belongs--I know he will.

Big Red is safe and recovering nicely--Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers for a full recovery and the wonderful forever home where he belongs.

UPDATED UPDATE: 1/18/2012--Per the Dover Humane Society, BIG RED went to his new forever home this past Sunday and everything has been working out with the family and the other household pets. It looks like BIG RED has finally found a place for his BIG HEART to live and love forever.  I will post pictures when they arrive!

EXILED ROYALTY IN SEARCH OF A NEW KINGDOM!!! MEET DUCHESS!

Picture: MEET DUCHESS--a four year old female black lab who needs a home.

As most of you know, at Dogwood, I am accustomed to being in the presence of Royalty.

Queen Lucy rules the roost, Prince Charlie keeps the peace, Hines the Conquistador keeps away all enemy invaders (sorry Mr. Trash man), and Duchess Daisy keeps the energy level pumping. Added to the canine blue blood, I have the two feline felons: court jester Bart and Sebastian the water wizard.

You would think that I would be all bowed and curtsied out. But a couple of weeks ago I was introduced to yet another canine with royal tendencies.

And as usual, I fell head over heels in love.

I wanted very much to visit the Waverly Animal Shelter. They are a sharp, hard working, excellent bunch of ladies and volunteers that do A LOT for the animals in Humphreys County. Because I have been tied up with the organization of our current house hold and the endless renovations on the one I left behind, I haven’t been much help to them since we moved into the community. I wanted to give them some kind of support.

So, Better Half and I had decided to use our first real "free" Saturday to attend the  Adoption First event that they hold the first Saturday in each month.

Let me tell you, of all the things I was hoping to find that day, another royal mistress was not on the list.

But low and behold, as soon as I was led into the kennel area for a tour, there she was: a four year old, beautiful, dark eyed, black lab (didn’t see that one coming did ya?) named: DUCHESS.

Duchess’s story is a mirror of so many other pitiful tales of yore: an exile of a lost kingdom, abandoned on a lonely road in territories she did not know, by those who cared not what happened to her.

But she was rescued by a later day Robin Hood and brought to the Animal Shelter, where she could be free from the perils of the roadside and protected from the goblins of hunger and want.

The attraction between us was immediate, it was intense, and ….well…painful as she eagerly stepped up and put the full weight of her stocky form on my foot.

But that’s just part of her charm.

I immediately found myself sitting in front of this sweet heart’s kennel,getting kisses thru the gate and being offered the ladies hand for shaking and holding thru the gap in her door.

As it was my first visit, and there were other babies to meet, I gave her ladyship lots of love and then tried to move on. But then the royal barking began. The Duchess was lett ing me know, rather insistently , in the royal manner  that ,"We are VERY DISPLEASED!". So I had to bow in her presence once more to calm her.

After the Duchess and I had visited for quite a time, she accepted my request to withdraw from her presence, and I did so. I met many little (and big) furry faces that morning—but the Duchess has been on my mind ever since.

Of course, at the suggestion to Better Half that we add to our own Royal Household, I was given the option of living in the garage. So in other words, there will be so SWELL in the House of L.
So though I adore this lady, I cannot commit to her.

But I can put her face and her story out there for all to see.

This royal trooper is four years young, gives sweet, sweet kisses, and LOVES toys and chewy things. Like any lab I have known—idles hands (and jaws) are the devils playthings. So she would need things like Kong toys with treats hidden inside, etc to keep her busy when left to her own devices.
Even a Duchess can get bored, ya know!
She is already “altered”, and though I cannot confirm it, I think house broken. Her kennel was unsoiled, for that much I can vouch.

If you should feel the need to enter serfdom as the Better Half and I did years ago, and take on the job of serving in the court of this lovely DUCHESS, I am sure she would be pleased. You may even be honored with a royal hand shake!

Currently, this exile of kingdoms unknown is residing at the Waverly Animal Shelter in Waverly Tn. You can call the shelter at 931-296-7319 or email them at waverlyshltr@hotmail.com .