Road Trips

Oh Boy, a Trip to the Vet for my booster vaccines.  I'll get kisses and scritches and treats!  I love my Vet Techs.

Seriously Dad, 25 mph?  Grandma drives faster than that.

We are NEVER going to get there.

MMM,  I small Burger Barn. 

Dad, you missed the turn off for Burger Barn.

Why are we going a different way?

I hate construction detours.

We're finally at Countryside Vet Center~~

Sunny has arrived.  Where are my adoring fans?

I'm being good Dad, do you have a treat for me.  

It's Springtime

Gnaw, eat or chew your flowers?  Who?   US? 

You again!

With a very soggy late winter/early spring, there weren't any playdates for Sunny and her best friend Napolean as the yard was just too muddy. 

So when we had a few days of warmth and things dried out,  Nap's Mom called when she got home from school (she's a teacher's aide in special education).  Both of us were tired and ready for dog's that were worn out, after several attempted "Zomie-thons" in the living room during the rainy weather. 

Tired Doggos = Happy Dog Moms

I Would Never Let My Dog on the Sofa. . .

 Meanwhile, MY dog.

An Honest Customer Review

Amazon Review: "I destroyed this product in 15 seconds. Sure, the remains provided a shredded cardboard ambience to the area, but I expected it to last longer, and the warranty wasn't worth the paper it was printed on. Would Not Repurchase."

- Sunny D.

Stay

Humans stay on this earth a long time learning to be good

Dogs stay just a short time as they already are. 

Unknown

Your Dog's Profile - Reality versus LinkedIn

 

JJ's Closet - Every Dollar, Every Prayer, Every Share

NOW OPEN:

Something  I am grateful for in my author journey is the number of incredible people I've met.  Especially the younger generation, which warms my heart when I see such drive and goodness out there.

One such person I met along the way was a young female police officer in the Searcy, Arkansas area.  Officer Kristen McGlothlin has got quite a social media following as "Tactical Tinkerbell" - Facebook: Kris.10mc. I'm still laughing about her tale of the chip-stealing dog at the local market.  A wife, a mom, and a Christian, she's funny, bright, and caring, and sent me the nicest handwritten note when she first encountered  "The Book of Barkley".   So I wasn't surprised to see that she set up a nonprofit in her area, northwest of Little Rock, to help those in need. 

Her nonprofit, Day 41 Group, Inc., is now officially up and running in Arkansas! Their first major mission is JJ’s Closet — a secondhand store with a heart for restoring dignity and meeting real needs in our community.

In Kris's words, "When someone goes through a trauma — a car accident, medical emergency, assault, or fire — their clothing is often cut away by first responders or medical staff. These individuals should never have to leave the hospital wearing a thin gown or disposable paper scrubs.

Being close to the hospital means we can quickly provide:

✔ clean clothing

✔ shoes

✔ essentials

So people can walk out with dignity, not discomfort.

But our mission goes far beyond trauma response.

❤️ Who JJ’s Closet Will Serve

In addition to emergency situations, JJ’s Closet will assist:

• Families who have experienced crisis

• Individuals who are low-income or underprivileged

• People experiencing homelessness

• Anyone in White County facing an unexpected hardship

• Anyone who simply needs a helping hand and a fresh start

If someone is in need, we want them to know they have a place to turn.

JJ’s Closet will operate as a low-cost secondhand store, and every dollar raised will go directly back into the nonprofit to support:

 • Crisis assistance

 • Emergency clothing for hospital patients

 • Programs for struggling families

 • Outreach across White County

And for those in true crisis?

➡️ All clothing and essentials will always be FREE.

No questions asked. No shame. No barriers."

It's up and running, and this week, they had enough donations that they ran out of hangars.  Click on the link for JJ's Closet or their Amazon Store for more info.

• JJ's Closet

Please consider a donation in honor of a friend, a furry companion, or just the goodness of your own heart.

Kris has an Amazon Wish List Page  which makes it easy to donate items they need to grow.

• JJ's Closet Amazon Wish List

Light Flurries with a Chance of Zoomies.

 No, I'm not at ALL excited that it snowed again.

Explorations with Da Princess Harlow

Book Display picture provided by C.D. Sterling

Many of you remember How Sam See's It blog.  C.D. hasn't been blogging actively for a while, but we're friends on Facebook, and I've been keeping up with the adventures of her newest Rescue Golden Retrievers out in Washington state (not far from where I grew up).

Da Explorations of da Pacific Northwest: As told to da Momma from da Princess Harlow (C.D. Sterling) is a wonderful short children's story.  C. crafts a great tale, as I found years ago when I read Cowgirl at Heart, her first novel. But this new one really touched my heart, and I enjoyed it as much as the little ones in my family.  Having watched "Da Princess" Harlow grow up over these last years, and shedding tears for her recently when she went to the Bridge, this story really struck home, and will for any child or adult who has loved a dog.   

My review on Amazon - FIVE STARS

"A wondrous short story of a young woman's adventurous trek with her funny canine companion out into the wilderness of their own landscape. Told with the sense of love that every adult who has dearly loved a dog will relate to, this story is one that will be embraced by children of all ages. As Golden Retriever Harlow and her loving guide "Da Momma" set off on their adventure, we learn much more than just being open to the joy around us, even if fleeting. There are subtle but valuable lessons for all: be prepared, share your things, LEARN new things, leave the wilderness the way you found it, and of course, have enough "cookies". It was a joy to read this aloud to the little ones in my own family, and I know they will want it read before bed on many an evening. A delightful adventure, indeed."

• Click Here to Order Amazon Kindle

 - $1.99 or free on Kindle Unlimited (for members)

Veggies are GOOD for you Sunny

 

The Chewy Box has arrived!

Look, Sunny  - it's a Nylabone Broccoli (bacon cheeseburger flavor)

 I wasn't sure if she'd like it, but this is now her favorite chew toy (along with Claude the Lobster).

Green Energy Dog

 When the solar charging station is REALLY uncomfortable,but it's the only one in your vicinity.

Birds of a Feather

 

Learning to Walk on Broken Glass

"One day, some people came to the master and asked, 'How can you be happy in a world of such impermanence, where you cannot protect your loved ones from harm, illness, and death?' The master held up a glass and said 'Someone gave me this glass, and I really like this glass. It holds my water admirably, and it glistens in the sunlight. I touch it, and it rings! One day, the wind may blow it off the shelf, or my elbow may knock it from the table. I know this glass is already broken, so I enjoy it incredibly.'"  - Achaan Chah Subato  -  Theravandan meditation master

In my Facebook feed, I saw a snippet of a post from 10 years ago.  A photo of Barkley that had been posted in remembrance on that first Christmas after we lost him.  So many pictures from those happy times.  Happiness is still found, but the people and souls who made up our lives then have changed drastically. In the last few years, I've said goodbye to Barkley, Abby, and Lorelei Lab, my brother, my dad, and my stepbrother.  Now my little sister (biological) is fighting for her life with Stage IV cancer.

As children, we view the world as if it will always be as it is that day. Mom and Dad will always be there; the dog will live forever. There is little that cannot be fixed with glue, a bandage, and Mom's chocolate chip cookies. As we get older, those perceptions sometimes remain: that we will live happily ever after; that we will have children, who will have children, who will have children, the family living forever, in a defined order of aging and passing. We go into adulthood believing what is useful for us to believe, or rather what is intolerable for us NOT to believe.

After Barkley's death, we went out to see my Dad to laugh and remember much more than just the life of a dog.  While I was there, I took Dad and my new husband one day up to the cemetery on top of a hill, where we could watch our shadows upon two small graves. My brother did not go; still weary from both chemo and radiation, but helping us prepare flowers to take to those graves.

I remember standing there, shafts of sun hitting that small stone, listening to the short song of a hidden bird who sang four short notes, then ceased, as from a distance came the incurious, calm sound of bells. As my Dad did, I realized long ago that one must sometimes don that shirt of flame, which we do not have the power to remove but only to bear, without being devoured by the blaze.

There is no perfect order, there is no guarantee, but there still is, and always will be beauty. If we didn't learn that, we'd only move without living and grieve without weeping, neither worth the toll they take on that which remains.  For myself, I chose now to weep, and with that, remember.

I think again of those beliefs peculiar to childhood, namely those things we believe simply because we are too young not to believe. The first was Santa Claus.  I had my doubts the first year I sat on Santa's lap at the hardware store, and he was wearing black geek glasses. Santa should look like Santa, not a 30-year-old CPA. Still, I kept quiet, buying Mom's explanation that he was just Santa's stunt double, Santa being busy that day. Certainly, Santa was real; he had to be real. 

Then there was the Tooth Fairy. Dad still has this little note, written in my handwriting, an affidavit to the Tooth Fairy attesting that indeed I did lose my tooth, but I swallowed it with the piece of apple that pried it loose. It's wrapped around a little plastic box filled with baby teeth. Big Bro was a little less subtle. One night, long after I was asleep, Dad was alerted from the bathroom where he was preparing for bed with a "Dad, I caught the Tooth Fairy," and he had Mom by the arm and was tickling her, and they were BOTH laughing. 

The Easter bunny had just a slight role at Easter, being a tradition to bring sweets to celebrate the gift and the Sacrifice of Jesus, rather than being the reason for the whole holiday. Still, before church, we loved to find the little baskets outside the door, with candy eggs and a chocolate bunny.  Until one day, when we got up, and there was no basket.

 Mom and Dad announced we were too old for the Easter Bunny.  Instead, they were taking us on an outing tomorrow! To the State Capital! Yes, children getting to visit a government building instead of a basket of candy! You can only imagine our excitement. On the drive there, we whispered intricate conspiracies from the back seat to get out of this to no avail, not wanting to hurt our Mom's feelings. So we learned what a rotunda was. Dad finagled a tour at a local brewery on the way back, likely needing a drink after watching our tax dollars in action.

Watching the cans getting processed was a whole lot more fun than politicians in suits, and as we drove home, Mom did stop and get us some ice cream, realizing the day hadn't gone as she'd hoped but appreciating that we at least tried. I think deep down, we had known for some time the Easter Bunny was our Mom and Dad. But we were not yet openly willing to admit to another fractured fairy tale.

 Still, though, our parents let us hold on to the perception that the world was unbroken as long as they could. Some things, though, could not wait until adulthood. One was finding out we were adopted. So many people, then, and even now, ask me about biological parents, and I have no answers for them. But for the reason of the severing of that tie, which is not the concern of the world, neither of us sought to find them, outside the scope of our hurt or their harm, even if we refused to pass judgment for the reasons we ended up where we did. Or perhaps we did pass judgment, but were simply unwilling to pronounce sentence.

All I can truly say is my brother and I came into the best possible family.  Disciplined, loving, hard-working people who came from nothing by way of material means or privilege and still crafted a life of learning and beauty. Our clothes were handed down or handmade, our food from the garden, pasture, or forest behind the house, and our bikes were used.  But we had everything that was truly important, and that was a deep appreciation for every day, even those marked with illness or imperfection, easily forgotten when we were greeted upon returning home by our Mother's smile and the joyous bark of a dog.  

This was the beauty of family, simultaneously fragmented and undefeated, emboldened and afraid, yet still seeing the good in the world around us.  So we carried on, my brother and I, as we told our stories.  "Remember when Dad was told to give me the 'birds and the bees, boys and girls are different talk’ because Mom was sick?  It consisted of a photo of a boy from the Sears catalog in his underwear, a finger pointed to a critical area, and the admonishment "Don't kick your brother there!"  He would then laugh and remind me of something silly I had done in school, memories that shone in the sunlight on the telling, his laughter still ringing like a touch on glass. In our stories, we were children, and our favorite dog was always with us. We were not just immortal; we were invincible. We would run and run until our bones turned to water, and we fell in a puddle of arms and legs and barking dog, forever joyful.

On the den wall is a family tree my aunt drew with careful calligraphy, giving us each a copy. I note many branches, some ending abruptly as some died young, some were widowed, some childless, a lifelong bachelor or spinster among them. Now, on a branch, which had ended abruptly, is a name, next to mine, something I owe in part to a dog named Barkley.

For Barkley was indeed my family: his story, joining these others, each entwined into a family history of black sheep, white knights, the victors, the vanquished, each carrying with them loves and burdens and more than one four-legged companion with whom they shared the journey.  Each name, name by name and page by page, will be laid down until inevitably, only one name will remain, for that glass is indeed, inevitably broken. That person will, I hope, trace the names and whisper the stories that haunt the winds, even if no one is left to hear, but ghosts on the page, with no earthly house in which they wait for us.

As I start to weep, a hand reaches out to touch my face, in benediction, in blessing. That is the true beauty which sustains us; a birth and sacrifice on which the world was saved is re-enacted here in this world every day, in the saving grace of a small, imperfect family and the memory of a dog.

 - LBJ