When somebody loves you...

Thank goodness for Tyson (and of course my husband!). Tyson could care less if I'm perfect or not, likely because he doesn't worry about it himself. I can show up to see Tyson in my grubby jeans and old coat, and all he cares about is that I'm there. Well, I'm sure the treats help, too.

I wish people were more like Tyson and stopped judging me and all rest of you, too, on how perfect we all are or not.

I'm lucky. Lucky to have that acceptance, and not just to have it, but to know that when you are loved and wanted, no one cares if you've done your hair, or spackled on your face for the day. Come as you are! Bring love, bring happiness, and bring a yummy treat, too. Cake, anyone? I prefer blueberry pie. Tyson? He's not picky.

Perseverance

I'd have to say that the worst thing I hear all night long is something from the person who has settled, "Life is what it is, and a lot of people..., and a lot of others...," etc, so they then just accept "that" (whatever "that" may be) as truth.  And then I look at Tyson--my bundle of wisdom rolled up into a fawn colored Boxer. Tyson was left for dead. He was emaciated to the point wherein his skin started sucking between the bones of his rib cage. He was all set for tragedy when something happened.  He was found.  And I wouldn't call it a second chance at life, at least not in his case.  For Tyson, life is about survival.  Consequently, survival is the only option for life.  And so he did.  What makes survival unique for critters is how we humans interfere.  Positively or negatively, we affect them.  It's our doing, because we seem to hold some grandiose key of life or death unto anything existing, even when it comes to fellow human beings.  The rest of the planet just gets to go along with it.

Why are so many people unwilling to fight and struggle like Tyson?  Why are so many unwilling to starve and tread and trudge?  Life is hard. Life can be very, very angry. And still! life is beautiful.

Tyson is my hero. I love that boy so much. He's filled with wisdom and guidance if you just open your head to the idea than you can learn real truths from a canine- founded on experience and heartache. I get that dogs and cats aren't as filled with thought processing abilities like you and I.  I'm not daft.  But what I am choosing is to listen to the variances of life, that like the breeze which blows is right in front of me--and you, too, can only really be seen when you stop, listen, maybe close your eyes to feel it. Truth doesn't need to come to me from a webpage, the television or a newspaper. Truth, though obscure, can be attained by simple measures and transcends the bounds of humanity.  Measures that make you in charge of interviewing the process of your own life, rather than someone else gauging the vivacity for you is about being in control.   You wouldn't let someone monitor your joy for you, would you?  You'd like as much joy as possible, right?  But some people do and ever so willingly allow the misgivings and mal-intent of others determine the magnitude of their own joy.

I'll not settle.  I'll not give in.  I'll not lie down and take it like those that do.  Like Tyson, I'm in this for the long run.  And the next person who tells me that life is so, so bad and that they're just going to accept it---I'll nod my head, and give them another beer, and feel sorry for all the joy they are missing.  I get to see my Tyson but once a week and that's 6 days of joy anticipating every moment I'll get with him. Then another six reveling in it, until the next. It's a Joyous cycle:)

And when people mistake Tyson for my blind son, I am just going to let them believe it here out, because when they hear it is a dog, not a kid, they stop believing in the message of hope that my stories about Tyson provide.  Tyson is my "blind son," and one day, he'll be someone else's blind son, giving them the exceeding joy he already brings to me.

Life's an adventure, not a shame game.

I always take away something great from Tyson as he is quite the sensei!  Yesterday, I learned it is okay to pack on some winter pounds.  It doesn't make you less attractive, or less than you were when you were skinnier.  It gives you warmth when the weather is cool.  So, for all who bury themselves in their sweaters because of a few extra pounds when the temperatures drop, pick your head up.  Your body is supposed to insulate itself.  It's a reasonable and normal process of being an organic being.  And just think how rewarding it is to watch it all shed and then to fit in those shorts or that bikini again.  What would you have to look forward to if you were skinny all year round?  It's not like most of us are jet setters able to vacation on tropical islands any given time of year and often throughout!  Get over it, and enjoy the extra attention you give to yourself while working it off.  Life's an adventure, not a shame game.   --And Tyson...would you ever fault him for putting on a few pounds because it's cold outside?  No?  So, go easier on yourself, too.

I'm down in the pasture letting Tyson run off leash and there are birds chattering all around us. Off in the distance a few piggies talk while a plane hums in the sky. A crow sounds in the distance, and a rooster, too... A few bugs zip around to mark themselves present as well. Tyson's too busy chomping on his beef tendon to appreciate this, but I'm grateful for the abundance of nature that surrounds us.Tyson is getting better at his commands, but needs daily work.  He's still really great at running beside me, but he's a wanderer when he's just walking with you...so many smells!Look at that sweet muffin!  He's so ready to be in someone's home.

Isn't Tyson handsome!

I just got up to Pasado's and discovered Tom is being fostered!! Woohoo!!!  Tom had that look of "Petey" from The Little Rascals.  Aw, and just when I was starting to make friends...Trust me, I am more excited about Tom having a warm place to sleep with some loving humans than I am about making friends:)

Wow things are blossoming with the Springtime!!  Mary is super fluffy with growing hair, Bella is running in the big yard, and there are some new faces, too!  So happy that there are rescued critters getting love and attention.

Then there's my Tyson.

Tyson was more eager for his treats than to see me perhaps;). He even knew which pocket to sniff.  He still has his monkey, though most the innards are shredded out.  Good thing, because I still have my stuffed heart!

I think I got some really sweet pictures of him out in the pasture, but Tyson has always been very photogenic.

Cuddle bug

He melts into my arms every time we meet or is it the other way around?  Look at that little spot on his nose...and those fluffy jowls...he loves to have them pet.

Tyson has great hearing!

Impatiently awaiting a treat.

It took me 3 shots to get this photo, because Tyson kept jumping for the treat.  Blind or not, he knows when there's something good waiting for him.

Tyson loves grass

Yum!  And look how beautiful Tyson looks against the green of Springtime!

Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary.. I love this little lady.

Little Mary lets me know every time that she, too, needs a chew treat when I come to visit.  If I don't see her, I stand outside her house and call to her to make sure she knows I am there.  Eventually she'll rouse and come on out within a minute or two and then start calling to me to bring it on over.  How could I ever forget that sweet girl?  I bet she'd be happy in the passenger side of anyone's pick-up truck or just lazing around the farm yard.  Funny, Mary reminds me of my grandpa's old sheep dog.  I can't recall his name all these years later, but the two seem to have the same disposition--a little strong, but easily melted with the right tactics, loyal as all get up.  Like careful humans, we need not expose all of our good traits to you right off the bat, sometimes a little charm goes a long way.  For Mary, she's just a good ol' gal.  Needs some love and some pets, and she'll be yours forever.

Admittedly, Mondays with Tyson have taken a dip. Ted and I lost the long run of Mondays with him due to work and school obligations and now I have this tremendous guilt looming over me. It almost feels like abandonment. Atop that, I saw this video online today about a small pooch, left for dead in a trash pile, blind and needing surgery. The little guy was one of those teacup mini poodle type purse dogs. How can you just throw something away like that?  And so my guilt looms about not getting to see Tyson today. I have not seen Tyson in two weeks and can't make it up to see him until tomorrow, so while I study I am filled with guilt. I miss the boy so much.

I miss how he breathes in my smell by first exhaling and then taking a long, slow sniff. How he gets so excited once he hears my voice. I miss the little spot between his eyes that he loves to have rubbed, going straight into coo mode...

And alas how I am ignoring my homework as I think more about him than opening the book in front of me to get in some study time. How can one dog take over my heart so much? How can anyone ever throw away a little guy into a trash, or even send them outside without food or warmth, or even push them from a car window while speeding down a highway...How can anyone even do what was done to Tyson?

Sweet boy. He deserved better. And now with the help of Pasado's he is getting it, and will continue to do so.

I have missed my boy over the last few weeks, and am so eager to get to see him today!  

Wisdom gleaned from the Feline

So, we shaved her.  My 16 yr old "princess" has been shaven from her ribs to her hips to expose all needed room to let the ultrasound doc (who was wearing a Patek Phillippe) tell me how much longer I have with her.  Apparently it is at least 3 years or better, which means it is settled that I will have my first child before "baby girl" passes away.  As long as we follow through with therapy and meds, and as long as we alter "my sweet's" diet to something conducive to her needs--which include potassium as she is in renal disease stage 1, she will become an old, old "little munchkin."  "Ninja" has been with me through 10 moves, a divorce, some serious relationships, and a marriage, two new kitties and two new puppies, ...drama, ...intrigue and all gamuts of emotional circumstances.  "Bleue bird" has been my rock and only stable thing through 16 years of my life.  I owe "the wee one" duty and reward.  And though her tiny belly is now shaven, "sweet pea" is still just as beautiful as always. It's just that Bleue's little grey belly looks funny against her long, shiny black hair surrounding it.  It's no wonder she is sitting atop floor vents and adamantly seeking heat-in-force for that petite 6 lb frame, which has to be chilly now that 1/3 of it is minus hair.

From Bleue I take...

-It matters not how many times you move, just if the scenery (and birds) gets better.
-Your friend will sacrifice anything for you.
-Even if you do not like some of your roommates, there are those who you can't wait to crawl into bed with.
-If you get lost outside, stay put, and you will be found.
-It's okay to be choosy about your humans that "come and go," and peeing on their clothes is the best way to say you hate them.
-Dancing makes everyone happy, and so does having your own song.
-The best place to be is on the shoulder of your loved one, resting, purring and being pet.
-Blankets are never too warm from a dryer.
-I have never met a fish I have hated.
-Betrayal is an unclean litter box.
-Being photogenic is inherent.
-If you are concerned whether or not you are more important than your mom's new friend, just jump on the bed when she is entertaining and see...
-A collar is for dogs, unless it is diamonds.

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