Tag Archives: dogs

Another rain later….

So, we had another rain last week. Almost four inches. Made one goofy dog quite happy. My brother, not so much…

Oh, dear. Someone's been eating mud again.

Oh, dear. Someone’s been eating mud again…

...and the droughtgrass turned green...

…and the droughtgrass turned green…

...and somebody had to mow it.

…and somebody had to mow it.

The Long, Hot, Summer of the Soul

There are times when you just have to step back, you know? Take a break, reassess, get grounded, or (insert your favorite catch phrase here)whatever, and hope that when you get back to the grind, something will have clicked into place, and life will progress more or less smoothly, and generally in a “forward” direction. Sometimes, there’s no noticeable click, but you realize you have to drag yourself back into the Twilight Zone (some prefer to call it reality), whether you’re comfortable there, or not.

And then there are times when you go walkabout and just get lost…

Or I could spin this past year as a sabbatical, and that I was doing serious research… yeah, maybe not.

What started off last summer as a break to “get off the planet” as it were, and immerse myself in rereading all the books in the Foreigner Series, by C.J. Cherryh, turned into one delay after another in getting back to work on my writing, and all the other stuff I put on this blog. But, oh, well, these things happen. Instead of boring you with all the details in one long blurt, I’ll just proceed like I’ve only been gone a week, instead of a year. That okay with everybody?

The biggest change to the Crazybasenji household is the addition of a non-basenji canine. I know. What a shock. She qualifies as completely crazy, though, so that should count for something. Darby is a Spinone Italiano, an Italian Pointer (or Setter, depending on how loosely you translate). She’s a big, shaggy thing, and goofy as hell. And if there’s one thing I do love, it’s a goofy dog.

Darby belonged to a man who was going through chemo and radiation therapy and just didn’t have the energy to care for her and his other big dogs any more. She came to live with me on a trial basis at first. I wasn’t sure if Ramses would warm up to her. He’d been getting peculiar around strange dogs on our walks, and I was hoping that constant exposure to a very different dog would be good for him. Turned out I was right – at least as far as Darby is concerned. She’s so mellow, that even when he’d snarl at her in the beginning, she’d just stand still – very non-threatening – until he chilled.

Now they’re fine together, and the different energy levels keep things interesting.Image

So I can get back to doing more writing, and painting, and spend less time enabling a spoiled rotten only-dog. Maybe…

Give your heart to a dog…

One of my Facebook friends has the sad task today of having to say goodbye to one of her basenjis. As I read the comments to her post, I was reminded of a line from a poem I read once, “give your heart to a dog to tear,” but I couldn’t remember if it was one of those rare serious ones by Ogden Nash, or if it was by James Thurber. I “googled” the line and found out I was wrong on both counts. It was by Rudyard Kipling, and it’s titled “The Power of the Dog.” And here it is. Get out a tissue.

The Power of the Dog
by Rudyard Kipling

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie–
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet’s unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find–it’s your own affair–
But…you’ve given your heart for a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!);
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone–wherever it goes–for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart for the dog to tear.

We’ve sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we’ve kept ‘em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long–
So why in Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

This is for Ju-Dee and her Phoebe. “The falcon has flown to the sun.”

Finished

Completed Blue Heeler portrait

Tag

Toy Fox Terrier portrait

Precious

“Brown paper exercise”

Mona Lisa pup in progress

Someone's precious pup

My version of the basic “brown paper exercise.” Still a work in progress.

Update, minus photo

I have finished the drawing of Tag, the Blue Heeler/Australian Cattle Dog for the friend of my cousin who has been waiting for it for some time. Mea culpa, I plead technical difficulties which delayed my starting on it sooner.

But I’m not posting a photo of the finished product until after it’s in the hands of it’s new owner. That only seems fair. Instead I offer a first look at a new project, which is a *secret, Christmas present* project, that I may not be able to show further progress on until after it, too, has gone to its new home.

Preliminary drawing

Just a bunch of lines at the moment

Update Number Two

I’m pleased to report that I’ll have this finished and in the hands of it’s rightful owner before Christmas. The light has been kind of iffy lately — we actually had some cloudy and overcast days in this part of Drought Central. Of course those clouds produced very little in the way of rain. Now that we’re back in the grips of the all-sun-all-the-time weather pattern, I can get some more art work done.

Portrait of a Blue Heeler

Closing in on done

Project update

Recent work on my drawing of “Tag.” He sure has been good at “holding still!”

Portrait of blue heeler in progress

Coming right along

Long overdue — a new art project

It’s been a while since I posted a picture that I was working on, mainly because I haven’t been doing any artwork for a while. I forget how relaxing it is. Very “grounding” and de-stressing work, like I guess yoga is supposed to be. Anyway, this is a portrait of a dog that belongs to a friend of one of my cousins. Cute, huh? Updates to follow.

Outline of "blue heeler"

Still a ways to go

Some color added

A little more in focus

Oh, no! Not another learning experience!

A former co-worker had a bumper sticker that said,”Oh, no. Not another learning experience.” I feel just like that today, with all my sore muscles, after planning and executing the Responsible Dog Ownership Day event for the local kennel club I belong to. I learned a few things.

  • It’s never too soon to start planning an event, but it’s possible to start planning too late.
  • The volunteer helpers you start with may not be the same ones you finish with.
  • If you’re in charge, it may mean you’ll be doing everything.
  • People who don’t want the job usually keep their mouths shut about how well you’re doing — or not.
  • You will always get way more suggestions for things to do than volunteers to help make it all happen.
  • No one will complain that it was over too soon.

I have never thought of myself as a “people person” or a “joiner” or even a little bit outgoing, so taking on a job like this was a bit like volunteering to go roll around in a fire ant mound. One of those “What the HELL was I thinking!?” moments. It has always been my habit, when someone gets upset about something I’ve done, to think that they are mad at me, they blame me, they don’t like me. Me, me, me. But we all learn with age, sometimes even when we try real hard not to, and I’ve discovered that it’s not always about me. Who’d’ve thunk it?

I don’t mean to give the impression that the event was a failure, or a disaster, or that everyone was mad at me at the end. This is more about the nightmares I was having for the weeks leading up to it than anything that happened on that day. I always imagine the worst. I was expecting nit-picking and criticism every step of the way. I expected to come under fire for a long list of things I “should” have done, but wasn’t able to do because I realized it would be entirely up to me to make it happen, and I just didn’t have the time.

But the long and the short of it is that I will probably volunteer to plan the RDO Day again next year, because I learned a lot, and I had fun. Only this time, I plan to start planning next week.