A story...

Tiger Lilly was daughter Rachel's 9Th birthday gift. She is the worst dog we have ever had. Yet, we love her. A small Boxer, she is a compact package of badness wrapped in infatuating stripes.

Over the last 12 years she has gotten into countless trash cans, opened gates, opened door knobs (!) surfed counters, broken TWO cast iron skillets and once opened the OVEN to get to a pan full of pork ribs. And then ate them all.

Lately she has been subdued. In obvious pain. A $500.+ Veterinary visit found that she has severe arthritis in her spine. Due to the wonders of modern medicine, she is now pain free with a $30. per month prescription of medicine. She is currently sleeping well, leaping about, barking at every snapping twig or falling leaf, and full of her trademark badness.

One day this week I came home from work and noticed that the cozy quilt that lives on our sofa was covered in something BRIGHT yellow. I assumed it was bile from a dogs upset tummy, and picked the quilt up to wash it. When I lifted it, 4 egg shells fell from its folds.

I put the following story together from the evidence I found:
Lilly was snoozing on the sofa. Then she woke up and thought; "Hmmm. I am feeling a mite peckish!" So, she hopped off the sofa and investigated the house for potential snacks. The dog cookies were stowed out of reach on top of the refrigerator. The trash can was behind the locked cellar door. No food was left in reach of her nimble paws on the counter tops.

Using her larger than average brain, Lilly then exited the pet door and traveled along the deck, down the stairs and across the yard. She pushed up the gate to the hen yard, navigated past the hens and the rooster who is nearly as tall as she is. Then she went up the hen ramp and through the small door. Up on a hay bale, then up on a shavings bale, she reached the chickens favorite nest. And there were eggs.

Ever so gently Lilly lifted an egg and cradled it in her thick lips. Down off the shavings bale, down off the hay bale, across the coop and out the small door and down the ramp she went. Across the yard, up the steps, along the deck and through the pet door she went. Then through the front room and into the living room. One graceful hop landed her on the cozy quilt. Once comfortable, she laid the egg down and commenced to eat it, licking the shell clean. It was delicious! She thought she'd like another, so repeated the entire mission 3 more times.

Although I am NOT happy about her stealing eggs, I do chuckle to think of the effort she took to help herself to a fresh and nutritious snack. She is definitely feeling better!

Moments filled with life...

On days when loss weighs heavy I find it helpful to concentrate on moments that reverberate with life.

Things like puppies playing with unbridled exuberance on a sprawling green lawn.
Things like walking into my dining room and finding that the eastern sun has sprayed a thousand dancing rainbows onto every surface.

Love lives on...

Our family is made up of many wonderful people.... This week we lost one who was especially dear to us all, Nevada Chapman.

Nevada was married to my husbands sister Brenda for 50 years. He was a father, grandfather, uncle. He was a businessman, a storyteller, a man of deep faith and famous for his talent in the kitchen. He was free with jokes and teasing and passing out folded up cash to visiting children.

My fondest memory of him, perhaps, is from an evening spent watching Brenda and Nevada square dance. At this point they had been married 40 years or so. They both dressed up- him in western style clothes, her in a very fancy square dance outfit, complete with a full skirt and petticoats. I stood on the side lines and watched them dance. They were good at it... stepping lightly to the music and the calls. But what resonates in my mind to this day is the way he looked at her as they danced. This kind and gentle man gazed down on his "bride" as they floated across the floor, looking at her as if she were the rarest of treasures, the most beautiful of women. Seeing them that way was like catching a glimpse of what love looks like.

And though Nevada has left us, the love that he has lavished on those lucky enough to know him will live on.

The ferns are sprouting along the roadside. Curled into fiddleheads, they will soon unfurl to greet springtime. This group reminds me of a huddle of school children, heads together on the playground, planning a game.

Yesterday I planted pansies in bright pots. My grandfather used to bring us flats of them every spring. He delighted in their jewel tones and was especially drawn to the ones that had what he called, "Little faces" on the petals. He is always on my mind when I see pansies nodding cheerily in a warm spring breeze.

Chicks!

They came in the mail. A ventilated, peeping box. 25 chicks. Adorable little yellow fluffs
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They will grow with astonishing speed...I'll post photos once a week, you will be surprised.

3 reasons to clean my kitchen...

I had planned to haul a big pile of brush from one point in the yard to another after work. But then storm clouds rolled in and rain drops pattered down, so I turned to housework. My kitchen needed some deep cleaning. It needed counters scrubbed and cabinets wiped and windows polished. In the midst of shining things up I glanced out the window and saw a beautiful rainbow.

A little later I looked out a different window and saw this very handsome Red Winged blackbird. He posed for one long instant so I could capture his image.

And then I saw this very fine fox, trotting purposefully through the meadow. He was unconcerned with me taking his portrait.

And despite my frequent pauses to "shoot" the beauty outside my window, the kitchen got spiffed up nicely.

Artful grooming...

I groom dogs for a living. And I hear people with poodles or poodle mixes say the following more often than I care to: "Don't make her look like a poodle!" What people mostly mean when they say this is, "Don't do that weird groom with the bubbles on the butt and the funky shaved spaces."

I do understand the feeling. The first time I saw a poodle in a show trim, I felt the same way. But as I learned to groom and strove to achieve the true artistry in my work, I began to appreciate the talent it took to put a poodle into a Continental or English Saddle clip. These are the two accepted styles for adult poodles to be shown in at American Kennel Club breed shows.

Once in a while I attempt to put my own poodle, Dazzle, into what is known as a "Historically Correct Continental." This is a shorter trim than the show dog style, and the coat on the top of the head is trimmed into a top knot rather than left very long and tied up. It is still a lot of work! The biggest challenge, to me, is those "bubbles on the butt." They are called "rosettes," and far trickier than you might imagine to trim and shape.

Standard poodles used to be hunting dogs. They were trained to retrieve ducks and geese in water. Their heavy coats protected them from cold, but also weighed them down when wet. So, their handlers began to cut hair short in spots to reduce weight, leaving hair to cover the joints (poms on the ankles) the heart and chest cavity, (all that hair on the neck/chest/sides) and even little puffs to cover the hip bones. From utilitarian beginnings the modern oh-so-fancy and a-little-bit- outlandish styles were created. (This ends your canine history lesson for the day.)

Usually by the time I get the hair grown in well enough that Dazzle's haircut looks somewhat correct, I am sick of maintaining all that hair and I give her a very short trim. What I mean by that is that I shave her down like a sheep!

I do enjoy attempting to set this groom correctly, and scissoring the coat to a smooth and practiced finish. And Dazzle seems to enjoy the attention she gets when people see her, here in the giggle weeds of rural Maine, running about the yard with the chickens. She reminds of a girl in an evening gown hanging out at a bowling alley.