Caught In The Act

A look of love.

Cody was caught sneaking his muzzle in my coffee cup for the second day in a row. ‬

I’m pretty sure his stare back at me said... “Ohhhh... I didn’t know that was YOUR coffee. I thought for sure it was a miniature ceramic bowl with some handle thingy on the side.... which is really weird, cuz I don’t have thumbs. I saw it just sitting there on the side table... next to your chair. That was too weird, because how in the world would I get to that tiny bowl without standing on the armrest of your favorite leather chair to lap all the goodness from it? I mean…. you placed it there for me to enjoy all by myself. Right?

And yes, Dad... I do, I do, I do love coffee.

A Throwaway

Meet Chipper. He was a throwaway and labeled for euthanasia at the pound before a rescue group rushed in to save him. Someone shot him before the pound picked him up. He was a throwaway. He still had the bullet in his leg when he visited the rescue clinic. The vet surgically removed the bullet, nicknamed him Ammo, and also treated him for a tick-borne illness. He was a throwaway.

Chipper is Home

We met him on an incredibly hot summer afternoon. An hour later, he jumped in the truck and sat next to me. As we drove east, he watched the trees zoom by. Then he'd look at me with his big, excited eyes. He was a throwaway. He was a little nervous about his very first warm water and soapy suds bath. But he soon relaxed as the water ran down his back to his feet and the red clay soil stains on his paws disappeared. He was throwaway.

I named him after the dog my grandfather had when I was a toddler. He was the first dog I have any memory of. I adored my grandfather, and I loved his dog.

Afternoon Naps

Chipper now has his own food bowl and a comfy bed with a fleece blanket. He has four siblings that he runs and plays with for hours around acres of shade trees, singing birds, and mischief squirrels to chase with his gunshot wound limp. He was a throwaway. He enjoys taking naps in the sunshine, walking side by side with me to the studio, and he has a fondness for sweet potato French fries. This pup loves today more than yesterday, even though others kept saying he was just a throwaway.

Meet Chipper. He is finally home. #adoptdontshop #mansbestfriend #meetChipper

A Pup Story. One More Time.

It was one year ago today when she and I took a long ride through the countryside, just for the sake of one more time. I added several more miles to our usual route and also drove a bit slower, all to add a few more minutes of just one more time. She was weak from her years-long battle with cancer, but sat tall with stature and presence as she stared out the open window at every passing tree, signpost, and cloud. Unlike all of our many previous road trips, she took in every moment on that chilly morning. Everyone.

We slowly drove up the lane to our home, where her veterinarian met us.

I cried this morning. Not because today reminds me of a morning drive that we shared a year ago, but because I’m thankful for all of the unselfish strength Pita offered me. Like me, Pita expected order in our home. Her home... and she was dedicated to always keeping her siblings in line. After deciding I wanted to return to school, she sat with me in the quiet light of my home office during long hours and years of study. She had so much patience, helping me through not just one degree, but three. During those years, she was also the one closest to my side when I decided that sobriety was a necessity for me. She never once wavered. She was always there. Always.

That girl also had an impeccable taste in music, too. Or maybe it was her tolerance for my deep appreciation of the eclectic. We were always listening to music. Classic rock, jazz, cocktail lounge, country, not to mention all of those out-of-tune nights of guitar practice. She was good with all of it. Every moment. It was our time together, and we shared plenty of it.

I rescued Pita when she was a puppy, just a few weeks old. Her Dumbo sized, pointy ears outlined and framed her bright eyes. Those ears pointed straight up to the sky. In time, she would finally grow into those pretty ears. Rescuing her and placing her small, round puppy belly on the truck seat on that hot, dusty August afternoon is one of the best things I have ever done.

Life’s path always provides a remarkable way of healing. I recently committed to donating my skills to assist with a non-profit dog rescue organization. This coming weekend, I'm jumping back in my truck to volunteer time and miles for a transportation run to drive a rescued senior pup from a kennel in Georgia to his loving Forever Home in northern Virginia. I have always been a believer in second chances, and I do not doubt that Pita would graciously approve of this weekend's road trip. One more time.

Keep running, pretty girl. I am.

Threads of Love and Patches

He and Patches

Well-loved

I've spent a good portion of today picking up remnants throughout the house.

Patches is a part of our family and one of Zero's favorite playmates. Patches is truly living up to his name these days. He is missing several toes on one paw. Another paw is missing altogether and his stubby tail is split in numerous places. He has a busted nose, several missing whiskers, a limp leg, and lots of facial scars. It's real important that you speak up and very clearly when you talk to Patches because he's also missing an entire ear. Gone. What was at one time his lasso or a fancy adornment of some kind that he held with his right paw, now displays like some sort of major artery ribbon flowing out from his wrist. Yep, this is the arm that is totally missing a paw. Once again... gone.

A plus for Patches is that his squeaker still holds a great tune. Zero tests it often when he frequently and triumphantly runs throughout the house tooting continually his favorite song du jour like some master blues harmonica player. Zero's grand performance generally concludes with his big chest raised high while he tosses Patches from side to side with his climactic one-two, one-two high step big march finale. Epic pretty much sums it up.

Zero greeted me this morning as I toweled off from my shower. Just as quickly as he darted in to check on me, he hurriedly turned around and left. Before I was able to finish drying off and hang the towel, he raced back into the bathroom with his friend. Laying Patches at my feet, Zero then sat patiently with his big eyes staring straight at mine. With a quick toss of Patches to the next room, a flash of high-energy adrenaline and excitement followed the path of the airborne Patches.

Waiting Patches

I've picked up plenty of red threads today. This tells me that Patches' days may be numbered. We've had a who's who cast of lovable likes to Patches over the years. Some have had longer stays than others, but they have all been dearly loved. Once their stuffing makes an appearance though, Zero and I together say farewell as I tuck them deep into the trash can to avoid any miraculous escapes.

There's a far greater tale here than one of a pup and his worn out, thread shedding toy. The truer picture is what all of those single threads represent. Threads are like single strands of love that help to create the fabric. This pup loves happiness. He loves each day ....every day... and the entire day. He loves the simplest of moments, he loves smiles and laughter and pleasing others, he loves being loved AND more importantly than anything else... Zero loves, loves, loves to love back.

Perhaps we can all learn a little something from a few tattered threads. Peace, and goodness, and a life of days filled with loose threads and worn out Patches.

Threads of love

The Morning After

The morning after. ©2014 Gary Garbett

For a Friday night, the crew and I settled in pretty darn early last night. I camped out for the evening on the sofa to keep an eye and ear out for Pita following her return home from cancer surgery. Except for a 3 AM break to go outside and another round of her meds, everyone rested well.

The sunshine woke us to a chilly but beautiful Saturday morning. Pita and the gang celebrated her morning after with a mixture of warm brown rice and baked salmon folded in with their kibble. It was a huge hit. Following breakfast, I began to see a familiar spirit in those eyes that I had not seen in several days.

Recovery is a healer for all of us. Keep sending that love and goodness, folks. It’s working.

#pup #cancer #weregonnawin

Everyone Believes

Believing in Goodness ©2014 Gary Garbett

Everyone believes in something. Pita and I talked about believing before her appointment this morning. Most of it centered on goodness. As you can tell, she had very little interest in having her photo taken before jumping in the truck. She was, however, more than vocal about jumping into the truck without her two brothers.

I’m always thankful for busy days at the office. Today I was especially grateful. Late this afternoon, I finally received the phone call that I’d waited all day for. The surgeon’s voice was filled with optimism as he shared the successful news of Pita’s three-hour cancer surgery. I was overjoyed. She isn’t completely out of danger, but today is far brighter this evening under the moonlight than it was at sunrise. She’s in recovery and resting overnight at the hospital so they can keep a close watch on her. If all goes well, the two of us will be headed home together late tomorrow afternoon. Tom Petty’s Runnin’ Down a Dream may just be our soundtrack.

Everyone believes in something. Some call it prayer; some wishes of goodness, and for others, it’s just some sort of fab juju thing. Whatever it is you believe in and whatever it was you sent Pita’s way in the past few days, I sincerely thank you from the center of my heart. Believing is the greatest gift.

Love and peace and goodness to you all.