Tag Archives: Dewey

Friendship Friday ~ Dewey’s Doggie Morning

My daughter faithfully rises early each weekday morning to walk and care for her dog. She is often up before me, pulling on a coat and slipping on headphones before grabbing the leash. I remain in my room, doing my morning routine, preparing to engage another day.

One morning, I heard unusual scrambling and barking from Dewey upon returning from his walk. Run-in with ZephyrI conjectured. She’s the boss of us all. I wonder what is up with them this morning. He must have crossed her.

I stepped out of my room to find a ball of white scampering around and under the dining room table with Dewey following closely behind, barking and snapping at it. It was another terrier.

I found Louie this morning on the walk. He was loose, so I brought him here to call his owner.

Sure enough, the name on his tag read Louie, which was kind of funny considering we have Dewey. We wondered aloud if they had been at the SPCA together, and if there was a Huey out there, also.

The morning routine continued as Dewey and Louie dashed around underfoot, reminding me of why I was hesitant to get a dog in the first place and why we have only one. Steve called the number on the tag which went directly to voicemail. He then offered the following words while preparing to drive Kirk to school:

I’m going to walk Louie around the block to see if someone is looking for him while Kirk finishes getting ready.

I got in my car to wait for the girls to come out for their ride to school. They exited the house as Steve returned from his walk around the block with another little dog under his arm.

I think they belong together, because this little one came running up. I had to grab him quickly before he got away.

Then there were three! I was laughing out loud in disbelief. The little brown dog had no tag. Of course we called him Huey.

Please don’t call the SPCA until I get home. The little brown dog is SOOOOO cute! Can we keep him?

I was beyond my comfort zone as Steve deposited the dogs in the backyard while I assured my daughter that I would make no sudden moves without her. We left for school.

I am not exaggerating when I say that at the top of our street there was a large white dog off-leash doing his business. No human in sight.

We are not even stopping for Donald! We have GOT to get to school. 

I returned home to the sight of two dogs looking longingly at me through the fence.

Inside, Dewey was waiting by the back door. I opened it for him to join his friends in the back yard.

There was an incredible amount of cuteness.

Then it was time for me to go to breakfast with my son. This meant bringing Dewey inside but leaving the others out in case their owner should come looking for them. Can you guess the dynamic here? Which dog is supposed to be coming inside?

Please can I come in, too?

After a leisurely breakfast downtown, my son and I returned home to an empty yard. The dogs had been picked up. At least I hoped so!

The call came later. The dogs had, indeed, made it home, and we had made a fun family memory. I’m grateful for caring hearts, bounding dogs, and healing laughter.

Also for a fenced-in yard.

Oh. And the little dog’s name is Chance.

Lump Day

It is mid-week. Hump Day. In navigating my new normal there is still much I have to learn about pacing myself and having realistic expectations for what I can accomplish and what constitutes enough. Our themes follow us no matter where we go. Mine are here in my quiet house with me this morning.

It was a kind gift to wake with my alarm and read my Bible before starting the day. That led to a timely shower and the surprise of breakfast made for me instead of the reverse. Fed, clean, and clothed, I was able to take on the rest of the kitchen routine and pack lunches without being thrown by the unexpected surprises that usually occur between 7:00-7:20am.

Drop-off was smooth-sailing, and the dog-walk uneventful. The brilliant morning sunshine was a welcome lift to my sagging spirits. I recognized the kindness of a canceled plan which opened space for me to tackle an overdue task that has been hanging over my head. It moved to the top of today’s list.

Finishing my evolving morning ritual, I gathered supplies to the table to begin working on an art journaling project. It was fun to plan out and gather the words and images to use. I opened a new package of glue sticks and dug some scissors out of the drawer. Immediately I realized the blades were sticky and squeaky, but I decided to make do rather than extract myself from the table to my bedroom for the good scissors.

The ambient sound of scrapbooking!

A voice from the living-room couch piped up after I had been working for awhile. My son was seizing a few moments of his morning off to read a book he had received for his birthday. The silence of his reading was punctuated by the sounds of my tearing and cutting and gluing.

I even tried not to cut too loudly with these awful scissors!

I laughed. We both have sensitivity to certain sounds and pitches and noises. This caused more laughter and an invitation from him to take a break and watch an episode together in the living room. I accepted and hunkered down on the loveseat. Dewey trotted over and jumped right up, settling onto me for a nap.

Twenty minutes later, I looked at us and laughed, christening the day Lump Day, as we were lumping on couches and not accomplishing much. Then it was time to get moving. He has to work. I have to clean up the art journal mess and sort the rest of my time before picking up kids from school.

OR

I might just keep lumping.

Shhh! Don’t tell.

The original post was edited to include this video shared with me by my baby sis who now mothers her babies every day and knows about songs like this!

Friendship Friday ~ Walking Dewey

Dewey misses you.

I opened this text from my husband after turning on my phone as the plane carrying me to Session 2 of Grief and Trauma training taxied to the gate in Seattle. I miss Dewey, too. Did I just say that? Dewey drives me crazy!

Dewey also helps me, and that is the part I miss. He gets me outside walking everyday at least once, often twice. He invites me to take time to be, move, and think as we choose a direction to walk and begin. As long as there are at least two bags in my pocket for picking up poop, we are good to go. We can always hit up one of the many dog-poop-bag stations around town for the bonus third that is often needed on longer walks.

Monday’s after school Dewey Walk was a reality check, of sorts. Braving the drizzly, damp late afternoon weather, still clad in work clothes with Toms on my feet, I leashed the beast and exited the house.

Wet Dewey

Thankful for a rain jacket, I pulled up the hood. Pockets stuffed with plastic bags, I walked, and walked, and walked. Dewey jingled along, stopping to sniff and root and chew, occasionally needing encouragement to keep moving.

My long, loose, flow-y around the feet, grey dress pants and Dewey’s silvery black fur quickly grew damp as we walked along. So did the Toms, though I tried my best to avoid puddles. It was definitely a rainy afternoon, the type that my weather app says I have to look forward to this weekend in Seattle.

Any ambivalence I had about wearing and packing boots disappeared. They definitely need to be on this next trip. My mind began churning and mulling over what to pack. Maybe my husband’s list idea is a good one, after all.

Dewey and I walked up and down sidewalks, around court square, past the library, and into old town. Thoughts of the upcoming weekend filled my head, pulling me into the future, as Dewey held me in the present with his rooting, stalling, and jingling.

Returning home forty-five minutes later, we were both a bit damp. A brisk skip up the porch steps and shaking out of dog fur prepared us to enter the house and the rest of the afternoon together. My head felt lighter and clearer as I reengaged my children and began dinner prep.

Along with my family, walking Dewey is something I miss while I am away. I miss our afternoon walks alone and evening walks with Steve. Walking myself just isn’t the same, though I am realizing it is equally important. With that thought in mind, maybe I will exit the bus a little sooner this morning and enjoy a longer walk to class. Maybe I will leave the house earlier and walk to the bus.

After I check the weather, of course!

Enjoy your Friday, Friends!

Making a List

Maybe it would help to make a list of all the things you need to pack, suggests my husband. It is not the first time this idea has been offered. His diplomacy is sweet, considering I still have not made any lists, yet continue to bemoan all that clutters my mind.

Meals. To dos. Classroom reminders. Items to pack. These all race inside my head, yelling for attention, sending me scurrying this way and that.

I reluctantly follow his suggestion, grabbing a pad of paper and listing out clothing items, each with a box to check once it enters my suitcase. It feels so tedious, yet I immediately sense relief as the words leave my brain and fill paper.

Why do I fight this so?

I am grateful for the growth that has happened in my ability to hear my luvvvah’s words in a spirit of kindness rather than as critique and criticism. He truly is sharing what helps him and in no way is condemning me for my inability to move.

Grateful for the list, I pull out a suitcase and begin rolling bedclothes and stuffing my short boots with socks to begin filling the space. I will wear tall boots on the plane. Where are those grey pants?

This season in Seattle is not one for Toms. I had a trial run of Seattle weather a few days ago while walking Dewey, but that is for another post.

For now, I am grateful for quiet space and a few minutes to write out some thoughts about packing and how I am growing in my ability in making a list.

Now to check it twice! Here we go!

Friendship Friday ~ Fetching Dewey

Sometimes I get home from school before my children. Today was not one of those times, but last Friday was. If you follow the blog, you might recall that it was the day of the first bus ride.

I arrived to a quiet house, well, quiet except for a puppy who was ready to get out of his crate and play. I let him out, and we headed to the back yard together.

When Dewey was new to us, I began working with him on fetch! Chloe joined in, and it became a team effort. One of us would throw the ball and say fetch! He would run to it, look proudly back at us, and occasionally return it for a treat or tummy rubs.

Sometimes he would miss the ball completely, distracted by a car, or an itch, or another dog, or cat.

Last Friday, I picked up a multicolored ball and tossed it. Dewey, Fetch!

Dewey Fetch

He did!

Bounding to the ball, he picked it up and ran back to me, dropping it at my feet for tummy rubs and another turn.

I threw it again. Several times. We played together there in the yard waiting for his girl to get home. Each time he expertly returned the ball to me, basking in praise and my occasional laughter. And, of course, tummy rubs.

It was sweet, that backyard playtime with Dewey. Not all of our moments together are.

I was grateful for his cooperation with my invitation to play. We had a fetching time.

New Puppy Dewey. / Guest

Do you know what it feels like for orphan eyes, almost all pupil, STARING at you? A tiny, tiny thing, gazing at you from behind bars?

Well this started not long before my sisters birthday. I knew she was getting a guinea pig, my little sister had said that she and my brother were going to get her one. That night I talked to my dad, I wanted the first pet. My dog.

After we talked, my youngest sister was in bed, and dad got on the computer. How would you like a Cocker Spaniel? Not what I thought I would get, but I like all dogs. Sure dad.  Then dad looked them up. Oh, it’s fine, they are hard to take care of.

Well, dad kept on looking, till he looked on the SPCA list of dogs. We saw Dewey, 2 month old puppy, in play stand. Dad said, He is cute, but we can’t have a puppy.

The next day, Wednesday, we were talking about dogs at the dinner table. My older brother said, If we got a dog I would want a puppy. And so the conversation went.

After dinner dad looked on his phone, The SPCA is open till ( sometime ) on Wednesday. Let’s get in the car. I rushed everyone out of the house.

When we got there, we went to the puppy room. Teeny black orphan eyes, Glossy black, dark brown, and just a hint of grey coat, wagging not-docked tail, one ear flopping, the other up, the puppy smell, corners of the mouth turned up, glossy white teeth but all through bars.

Mom had a surprise. All the I thought he was TEN months old! junk.

She and my younger sister stayed out of the room, touched by the dog barking. Harry, the older puppy in the cage beside Dewey, watched us. I could have cried.

Mae

The front desk said we could walk Dewey around the front yard, and dad said he might use the bathroom. He didn’t until dad scratched him under the chin.

We came to see him every day, loving him more every time.

Thursday, we found out ANOTHER FAMILY WAS THINKING ABOUT GETTING HIM, THEY WERE APPROVED, AND WE WEREN’T! Out cat needed a  vet appointment and shots.

However, God opened a place at the vet for her that day. The next morning I rushed everyone out of the house, I needed Dewey. Right when the lady unlocked the doors, we were two steps behind. We took the small puppy outside, and we ran, me and him. All around the yard.

Running with Dewey

After that, we crated him in the pet carrier and filled out the papers. He was mine. MY dog. 2 good 2 b true.

When we took him home he explored everywhere.  Later we took him to Pet-co.  We were getting him things when My sister came. “Dad dad! I found the perfect Guinea Pig!!!” Mom and dad talked, and for an early b-day present, She came home with a guinea-pig.

IMG_3742

At the check-out, Dewey had a great idea! ” Hey, how about I pee on the clean floor? ” And that’s just what he did. Charming.

Dewey spit-up a lot but stopped soon.

HOUSE-BREAKING.

Even now, he pees on the floor. For instance, Me, him, brother, and my 2 sisters were rough-housing on the living room floor. Mom told us many times, Don’t let him pee on the floor in there. And just as we were going to take him outside, he peed. I had to sneak around the house for things to clean up with.

He has eaten peanut butter, bacon, purina, and anything safe I give him. We took him to klines, and got him a doggie bowl. A scoop of vanilla, topped with a milkbone.

When Wren comes over, we watch them horse around, Dewey yelping for mercy, then chasing, (little did he know Wren was going slower for him.) He tries to climb on top of her to bite, but always ends up under.

We took him to the vet a few weeks later and he is new 5 months, so the SPCA was wrong,

=D Deweys the best. Cuter then all pups on earth. And My brother and youngest sister are almost fully thinking of him as part of the family.

Dewey

Deliver Me

Deliverance is the theme today, and as I embark upon an uphill year, I’m asking for that from you, Father.

Deliver me.

These words were journaled hastily this morning. Today’s Bible reading plan took me to Job, 2 Corinthians, Psalms, and Proverbs.

Really? Job? The first weeks of school?

I trust that where I am is where I need to be. Full confidence.

He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us.
On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again.
2 Cor.1:10

Be pleased, O Lord, to deliver me! O Lord, make haste to help me!
Psalm 40:13

The second verse I write on an index card to keep with me through the day. Not exactly sure why, I just know that it’s what I need.

Deliverance.

Quiet time is one of my favorite parts of the day. I don’t say this in a holier than thou way or in a prescriptive way but just in an honest way. I treasure my time being still with my Bible. Listening. Drinking that first cup of coffee.

Time is short and morning rolls along at breakneck speed, as we work to get everyone out of the house. By a stroke of amazing kindness, I am left alone at 7:20 with fifteen minutes to spare.

Dewey whines in his crate. I’m not alone. I decide to give him a quick walk up around the block before leaving him for the day. Grabbing a plastic bag, I release and leash him. We leave the house at a quick pace, my heart rate rising to keep up with him.

Around the block and to the top of the street and around that block and, oh no, another dog.

This dog is big and not leashed and barking and jumping at me and Dewey. It’s not a mean dog, and it has an owner that can’t be seen even though the house door is open, and I am loudly trying to get the dog away from mine.

Why did I think this was a good idea? Is running through my head. Really? My fifteen minutes for THIS???

I sweep Dewey up into my arms and carry him off. The dog follows on my heels, jumping occasionally. A girl is waiting on the corner for her middle school bus, and I ask if she knows whose dog it is.

She doesn’t, but listens politely as I recount my frustrating walk and try not to cry as we both watch the big dog squat to do his business. Another on my list of nevers, I open Dewey’s plastic bag and scoop up the pile.

I guess it’s like when you have kids. I say to the girl. It’s a lot grosser when the poops not your own. I hope your day is better than mine has started out being!

Dewey and I race downhill and round the corner to home.

Little do I know what is to come. Lock downs and sadness.

Deliver us.