Teenager...

 Fae has been a pretty much perfect puppy. I've raised many a dog in my life, and she has been by far the easiest. She's calm and confident and was easy to housebreak, with very few accidents (and all of those in the grooming studio, where, despite rigorous cleaning, it must smell like dog to a dog). She has consistently slept through the night since the beginning, and even though she is only 5 months old, she can be left alone in the house for an hour or two without any problems. She has not chewed on shoes or furniture, either. Other than struggling with car sickness, she has been a breeze to live with. She walks politely on a leash and knows all the basic obedience commands, as well as a few fun tricks. 

Yesterday, a friend told me that Hannaford grocery store had lobster rolls for $9.99 at their deli counter. I was on my way to grocery shop right after she told me that, so I looked for them, and sure enough, a large roll stuffed with lobster found its way into my cart. I happily anticipated enjoying it for lunch, walking up and down the aisles, and driving home. After I had put all the food away, I sat down to see if the bargain-priced crustacean tasted as good as I expected. 

Just as I was ready to take the first bite, a friend stopped by. I went out to chat with him. When I returned, practically drooling about my lunch, I found a perfectly empty plate. I had stupidly left the treat in easy reach of a dog. Despite her practical perfection, Fae took full advantage of the unexpected delight. 

Not only was I terribly sad about this, but I was worried that my dog might experience gastric distress. I considered forcing her to vomit, but decided against it. I braced myself for a night of being woken up to take her out. But no, she slept peacefully, apparently happily digesting my treat.  

This afternoon I was enjoying time on the deck. Fae was outside with me, and I watched her doing all her typical things. Then I couldn't see her but could hear a funny sound. I looked over the side of the railing, and there was my puppy, digging with gusto in a planter that was full of dirt and weeds because I had not planted any flowers in it this year. She dug like she was looking for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, scattering dirt in every direction and apparently having a marvelous time. She looked up at me, her long snout and previously white feet covered in soil. I swear she was smiling. 

My wonder puppy is a teenager. 

Glimmers...

 When I come up with an idea for a blog post, it usually happens because something catches my interest or delights me in some way, and I feel compelled to share. Since Chris died, delight has been in short supply, so my posts have been, too. 

 Oh, I'm ok. I am doing all the normal things that need to be done, like cleaning the animal houses, exercising and training the puppy, keeping the house tidy, and, of course, working. On top of all those things, I am doing all the chores that Chris used to do. Going to the transfer station, getting groceries, doing the banking, and mowing the yard. And as if that were not enough, there are a whole slew of new decisions to make, challenges to tackle, hurdles to overcome. Paying bills? Ack. Thankfully, my daughter and son-in-love have pitched in to assist. In other words, there are not many dull moments, but still, my joie de vivre is dimmed. 

As time goes by and the pain of the loss I am enduring dulls just a little, I am more able to catch the occasional glimmers of things that bring shards of happiness into my days. Visitors, for instance. I've had plenty, and am grateful for them. Cousin Chrissy came from New Hampshire, and we had a jolly time. We even visited with a handsome colt. 

Sweet friend Sumac came on her way home from hiking a mountain in Bar Harbor. I neglected to get any pictures, but I enjoyed her stay so much. Sister Deb has spent a couple of weekends here, too, and we always have fun together. More company is planned for the rest of the summer, too. Human as well as animal. 

There is a pair of Phoebe's raising a clutch of three chicks in a home they built on top of a light fixture on the garage. I can see the tops of the baby's fluffy heads wobbling over the rim of the mossy nest, and it's sweet to see the parents flitting in and out, keeping everyone well fed. When the babes are on their own, the whole family will leave, migrating somewhere warmer when summer ends. 

Today, when  I went to clean out the goat cozy, the visiting cows were lying about in the shade, looking quite content. As soon as I got to work, though, they rose from their resting places one by one and came to peer inside the little house to see what I was up to. They were pleasant companions. 

People continue to be so very kind. One man started out as a favorite customer a few years ago and has become a friend. He has checked on me almost every day since Chris died, asking if I needed help mucking animal houses or doing chores. Last week I tried to use our gas grill to cook supper, and it would not start. I was bitterly disappointed, as I enjoy grilling more than most people. The next time my friend texted and asked if I needed anything, I told him my sad story about my non-functioning grill. He came right over, changed the ignition battery, and discovered a leak in the regulator hose. Then he hustled off to the store, bought me a replacement, and installed it. It made me so happy to put a steak on my grill that night. He quickly solved what felt like an insurmountable problem to me and made it look easy. Those are the sorts of kindnesses that make my aching heart beat a little more gently. 

There are glimmers of |"happy" all around me, nudging softly to be noticed. I'm trying to be more mindful of letting them in.