Thank You Note

This time next week I probably need to be cranking out some thank you notes, but I'll start a little early on the most important one.

So last week we had a day where I confess I wasn't the happiest dog owner in the world.  After months and months of taunting Sirius, a silver colored squirrel made a mistake somehow - I didn't see it, but assume he took a leap and missed or just got so bold he wandered down a little too close - and Sirius got a hold of him.  I was alone with my mother-in-law, so I couldn't leave to take the squirrel, who didn't have any external injuries other than a missing patch of fur so I worried about internal damage, to the wildlife rescue center.  I had to call my daughter, whose son was napping, and wait until they could disrupt their lives and come over.  In the meantime, the squirrel had recovered a bit and moved, so I thought maybe it had just been shock and let the dogs back out.  Nope.  Sirius found him again.  In truth, I think Sirius just meant to play with him, but that's not what happened of course.  So I scooped the poor fellow up (and yes, I have gloves and towels for this sort of thing), who by now wasn't moving much and tucked him in the cat carrier.  My daughter arrived and off I went, but so much time had passed that the poor fellow died on the way to the center.  I had failed in my mission.  I turned around, came home, crying, with the poor little thing who deserved a better end than that one.  But dogs are what dogs are, and that squirrel had teased Sirius for months, leaping from tree to tree along the back fenceline, chattering madly at him.  It was our own version of the Scut Farkus affair, I suppose.  If you're a bully long enough, it will catch up to you, but I still spent some time being angry at Sirius.

And of course, I wasn't exactly thrilled with any of them when, about this time last year, a very nice police officer came to my door to tell me the dogs barking had created a disturbance, which launched the multiple month's long search for effective bark control devices.  By the way, you know what I finally decided?  Dogs bark occasionally; it's what they do.  I bring them in if they go nuts, but I think I finally just learned to stop over-stressing about it.  Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed one day last year and my dogs irritated the crap out of them.  Seemingly my unknown neighbor has managed, and we've managed, to keep it under control since.  And that very nice officer can spend his time on more important things hopefully.

But for the most part, I am grateful and proud of my dogs.  We asked them to adjust to a lot this year.  They did that; with grace and good humor.  I was so worried about the stress all the changes in the house would rain down on them, and at the end of the day, it's the dogs who comfort me when I'm not handling them well. 

Because of the fact that my mother-in-law needs a constant companion, all the fun things I would like to do with the dogs are curtailed.  As my world has closed in a bit, theirs definitely has as well.  Trips to the dog park are pretty rare now.  But they are happy with their lives with us, it's clear, and if they have ever given the fact that they're not getting grand adventures much thought, they've forgiven us for that.

I am thankful that they are so overjoyed to see me when I come home, whether that's from the store or a business trip, they act like I just totally made life worth living and they are SO happy I'm back.  It's easy to fall into a funk this time of year, when the skies are grey, but not yet snowy.  They keep me smiling by insisting I play ball or tug, and cuddling against me at night.  They remind me at times when I feel alone that I'm not really.  They always have my back.

I am thankful they've done so well around my mother-in-law.  Except for the one day when she tearfully reproached me and them for rushing her at the back door, she's been careful to acknowledge they are patient and careful around her.  One of her ailments that she contends with is a painful condition with her feet (no one has told me the details on what it is exactly) that makes her extremely unsteady on them.  Add to that the fact she - much to my husband's chagrin - will sometimes forget herself and try wandering around without her walker. You can practically knock her over with a look, let alone being brushed up against by a 70-pound dog.  Dogs who, by the way, were never trained - there was no time - to be around anyone with a handicap.  They instinctively get it somehow.  She favors Rooney, without a lot of surprise there since she is the calm, tender one.  And Rooney has accepted that role and will come and sit with her on the couch.  The boys seem to understand that their role is to keep more distance unless asked for.  They're young and enthusiastic, so there will be screw-ups, but really I could not be more proud.  Take that, PetSmart dog trainer lady who proclaimed Geddy not fit for obedience classes!

And, of course, I'm grateful that they leave her cat Molly alone.  After a period of intense curiosity they just decided to shrug it off as this black lump who lives in their former room and move on with life.  At least Molly doesn't actively torture them like Tum Tum.

In short, no matter what I get or don't get from Santa, I have these three amazing gifts in my life everyday, and I want to thank them for that.