When a Friend Dies

We have not posted in a long long time.  It's been a long number of weeks.  On November 4th, my brother, my only sibling died.  It was a total shock.  And like some space ship in a sci-fi movie, I feel untethered to my past and a little nervous about my future.

Then the election.

And today.  Today we learned that a friend we know only through wonderful, mirthful, imaginative postings on Facebook and Instagram, MoMo Brown, died.  This was a Wirehaired Pointing Griffon who broke record books on Facebook.  The postings of her antics, her love of life, her perspective on the world, and love of all things Chicago made many people's days.  She was instrumental in me thinking about, imagining, and finally deciding to bring Molly into our lives.

We can only imagine what her person must feel.  We have been down this path, especially recently with Sage.  But each dog is unique, each dog has a purpose in our lives, and this dog, this rescue, this wonderfully animated wild beast in the heart of urban life...she had a purpose.

We mourn, we ache.  It's been a very crappy several weeks.

Most of All She Loves the Fall

She is growing.  And her nose is working.

She simply loves the fall.  And in high grass fields, she loves to flush birds.

So now the next thing is to get her to what upland game hunters call "whoa" and those of us who live bifurcated lives of country and city call "wait."

She gets that when we are in the city.  Now the test is when a covey of quail are near-by!

Murphy's Day.

Training Day

Sorry we have not posted in a long time.  We have been busy.  Scratching our heads, reading books, searching the Web....this is the first honest to God real life bird dog we have had and we are determined to train her as a bird dog.

We are thinking we are the only people in our zip code who order from Gun Dog Supply, much less order quail and grouse scent, check cords, canvas bumpers, whistles.

And our swanky Seattle neighbors are probably extremely nervous when they hear me say: "find the bird, Molly," thinking I am sending her off to grab one of their chi-chi chickens.

But in the field she is a bird dog.  She gets excited when she knows we are about  to go out looking for her scented bumpers.  She responds to heel and "find the bird."

Stay with us, we will be better about keeping you up-to-date on training a dog who wants to have her mouth full of quail.

Murphy's Day.

Learning

Yesterday the "gang" went on a hike to one of our favorite high alpine lakes.  A fair distance, so we watched the pup carefully, with plans to turn around if she began showing any sign of fatigue.

No fatigue until we reached the truck after hiking almost 8  miles and some serious romps in a meadow!

She is learning how we roll around here and seems to be happy.

That is a good thing.

Murphy's Day.

Adjustments

Well, memories are getting foggier...we certainly didn't remember "puppy energy."  We fell into a quiet, bookish, cerebral life, with a few ball throws and runs.

Holy cow!

Murphy's Day.

Molly Brown

We get a sense she will arrive fully loaded.  Montana's Unsinkable Molly Brown.  Mighty Molly Mo. Molly Oly.  Any dog that already had nicknames is doing ok.

We pick her up on Sunday.

Murphy's Day.

Perfect Toy

We went to Petco this weekend, picking up a few things for the puppy.  And later this week I will make a quick trip to a local chi-chi pet store for 'healthy chews" for Annie Oakley and Willa.  The pet industry is thriving with toys, chews, special foods.

But when it comes to the girls, the perfect toys are always the most loved and frequently hand-me-downs from me.  They have probably read Velveteen Rabbit too many times.

I walked out of the house yesterday morning and this was on the back porch, perfectly placed so Annie could find her soccer ball when she got up in the morning.

What is not to love about that?

Murphy's Day.

A Dog's Field of Dreams

When over in eastern Washington, this is the morning and evening walk as well as play ground.

Field of dog dreams.

Murphy's Day.

Thank You

No pictures this morning.  Just a link of a story.  This dog was the last surviving search dog from 9/11.   And she died.  She was an amazing Golden and will be missed.  You can read about it:  http://www.chron.com/news/houston-texas/article/Rescuers-salute-Bretagne-9-11-rescue-dog-7966741.php

Draft Picks

I've had a variety of experiences when it comes to getting a puppy.  Everything from finding my very first dog, Alexis the Airedale in a pet store, peeking out at me from the back room, to being handed Sage having my friend and breeder Mary make the decision for me about which pup I was going to bring home.

This time I have a draft pick.  I am second in picking a female.

Yesterday over email came 10 pictures of 10 ups.  5 males, 5 females.  They are three weeks old, growing by the day.

I actually have a lot of work today but my guess is I will spend a bit of time looking at 5 female puppy pictures.

Hopefully Annie Oakley and Willa can help.

Murphy's Day.

Deliberative Life

I've been thinking about Wirehaired Pointing Griffons for a long time.  And after Sage's death, I wasn't sure it would ever be the right time.

But then I heard about a couple in Montana who were going to have a litter.  And as I found out about their lives, I realized these puppies would be well loved.  It was a deliberative litter in a deliberative outdoor life.  A life we try to live.

Annie Oakley and Willa look at me, wondering about the pictures I look it.  They are great dogs, dogs with huge hearts and have so much to give.  They gave their all to their sister, Sage.

And I am sure they will embrace (after a few growls) Molly Brown.

Murphy's Day.

Family Planning

It's always a tough decision.  I'm not an impulsive person.  I've never bought anything at an auction nor through eBay because I take way too long to make a decision.

When I realized Sage was dying I began wondering if I and the two other girls would ever be ready for another dog.  It was time, I thought, to just let it go.  Let Annie Oakley age, Willa grow old, and move on with my life.  I remembered after Murphy died going for long walks with Sage thinking this was it.  But then Annie Oakley came into our life, and frankly, without the two of them, I would have been a total wreck care giving for my parents.

For years I have been intrigued with a different breed, Wirehaired Pointing Griffons, or WPG as folks call them.  I "followed" various WPG groups on Facebook, enjoying the stories of the dogs, their antics, how much the owners love the breed.  Like labs, they are dogs that love being outside, love being with their pack, and love mischief.  What's not to like?

As it happens, several months after Sage died and the house continued to feel lonely, a woman in Montana posted that she was planning a litter.  Out of, oh, I don't know what, curiosity, I contacted her.  We exchanged emails and I was impressed that she and her husband were two people head over heels in love with their two WPG and wanted to breed them.  Not professional breeders.  People who appreciated and loved their dogs.  I had time to think about it.

On May 4th, they had a litter of 10 pups.  And yesterday I mailed them a deposit for a female.

In early July we will be welcoming Unsinkable Molly Brown into the family.

We're all a little nervous.  But at least we'll get a road trip to Montana out of the deal and, uh-oh, a bundle of puppy!

Murphy's Day!

Mornings

We have always had this routine, which sometimes gets interrupted if the girls are tired or I have to rush off to a meeting.  But, most mornings, after the girls have breakfast, they find a toy and play.  Usually it is a few turns at fetch down the front hallway.

But since Sage's death, the games have become more raucous, with fetch and catch me if you can along with tug of war.  It is as if they and I need more time together, a sense that we are a team.

Yesterday I was at a meeting with about a dozen other folks for our state wildlife agency.  We hadn't seen each other in a number of months so we did the exercise where we tell something about ourselves that happened during the months.

I told them about Sage.

Murphy's Day.

On Being Outside with Labs

Last Friday was an absolutely gorgeous day.  After a long week of work and morning of making sure all the work was done....sense a theme here....we packed up and headed to one of our favorite spots on the Yakima River.

This kind of time with the girls is vital to me.  They run, sniff, gambol over logs, dive into the river, and race around each other without restraint.  And I get to laugh.  It is how we should spend all our time with each other.

On this sunny afternoon we all spent a little time thinking of Sage, who loved this spot.  She would find a particularly sunny spot where she could see me casting then lay down and nap.  Annie and Willa would run amok while she observed and occasionally engaged.  But mostly, she just kept her eye on me.  Last Friday, I could feel her watching.

We are still grieving, missing her terribly.  It felt good to be out, good to run amok.  And good to be so close to Sage.

Murphy's Day.

And This is What a Wirehaired Pointing Griffon Puppy Looks Like

A little too cute.

Murphy's Day!

Expecting

This is, I suspect, a now familiar sight to young parents.

Fo us, it is an ultrasound of a Wire-haired Pointing Griffon named Bree who lives near Helena, Montana.

And in her there may be a pup.

This has been a long time coming.  We have spent a lot of time researching, thinking, talking, thinking...

Delivery day is sometime in early May.

Murphy's Day!

Rejuvenation

Easter is about rejuvenation.  About renewal and hope.  It is no coincidence that Easter is in Spring, when the daffodils and crocus are blooming.

We are three months into the year.  It's already been a tough one for us, losing Sage.

But we appreciate every moment, enjoy each laugh, stop and hug each other.

We are looking for some sort of renewal.

Murphy's Day.

Clingy

It has been a month since Sage died.  A very long month.  I still hear her, see her, reach for her bowl to feed her, anticipate walking her...

And Annie and Willa seem to cling to each other.  It is rare when they are not near by or together.

They are having their moments of absolute lab joy, however.  On Friday late afternoon we managed to get into the upper Yakima for an hour of fishing.  Little cold, some wind, no fish.  But the girls were in labrador heaven.  Tons of scents, water, and open space.  At one point Willa, in a fit of pure happiness tried to leap from one side of a channel to the other, almost making it before crashing into the soft sand.  She is a remarkable athlete.  Intense, confident, risk taking.

Annie went a little feral at the end, as I was breaking down my rod and taking off waders, wandering down a near by bike trail until she realized I was serious about leaving and would let her stay if she didn't come...sometimes reasoning actually works!

But there is sadness, still, in this house.  And we are all a little clingy.

Murphy's Day.

Learning to Sleep

For the past few years Annie stayed close to Sage at night.  After Sage died, Annie stayed very close to me.  But now that we are several weeks past Sage's death, Annie is beginning to start the night with me, then leave and end up downstairs.

Yesterday I came downstairs and found Annie sprawled on Sage's bed.

She is learning to sleep, again.

Murphy's Day.

Paying Close Attention

I remember when Murphy died and how I watched Sage like a hawk.  I fretted and worried about her.  We played together a lot more (which is hard to add more play time in these dogs lives, but we did it), took longer walks, held each other.

I find myself doing the same thing, now, with Annie Oakley and Willa.  After breakfast, Willa wants to play chase, and I throw myself into the game, relishing the time.  Annie snuggles under my desk as I work and I find my hand petting her as I work.  It's as if I am trying to pull them even closer to me.

It feels like there is still a large empty hole where Sage once was.  And its like I want to speed up the process of trying to fill that hole.  I know that what it really takes is time, tiny moments.  Moments that I must pay close attention to and feel.

Murphy's Day.

Pack Time

It has been a rough two weeks for all of us.  Willa and Annie sniff Sage's bed, Willa puts a ball on the bed...they seem anxious if anything in their routine changes.  On Wednesday I had a lengthy out of office meeting and when I returned, they were overjoyed to see me (when usually they barely get up off their beds when I walk in the door!).

After the meeting, we had appointments with the vet.  Sage's ashes were in, so I thought all of us would go.  Annie needed vaccinations, Willa needed medicine for her ears.

We pull into the vet's parking lot, they hop out, Annie gets a whiff of the "place" and absolutely refuses to go in.  In fact, she drug Willa and me back to the car.  So I put her in and Willa went.

We ran into out old vet, the woman who cared so well for Murphy.  She is semi-retired, but has been at the clinic more and more.  We talked about Sage, she loved on Willa.  I felt cared for by an old friend.

In the end, we got Annie into the clinic, shots administered, hearts listened to, new vet met, Sage picked up.

And Willa and Annie didn't leave my side all night.

We are working through a lot right now.

Murphy's Day.

I Can See Her

Labs are "routine" dogs.  They like patterns, to know something will happen in a particular way at a specific time.

In the last year of Sage's life, we had a routine.  I would get up, come downstairs, wish her good morning as I turned on the lights.  I would make my coffee, read the news, then we would go for a nice walk in the neighborhood.

Since she died, I have come downstairs, turned to her bed, and said "good morning."  I can see her.

We stayed in Seattle this weekend.  Every moment in the house was filled with Sage.

I can see her.

Murphy's Day.

Comfort

Had a long talk with Sage's breeder yesterday.  We talked about how Sage provided so much comfort to me.  She was my friend, always by my side, as I took care of my parents.  I remember going to see my father, a few hours after he died.  Coming back to the car and burying my face in her...

And Sage knew comfort.  She always sought out the plush bed, the warm fire, the biggest food bowl.

I miss her terribly.  I miss her comfort.

Murphy's Day.

The Pack

I am carefully observing and watching Annie Oakley and Willa.  I've said it many times, that dogs grieve and sense loss as much and maybe more than humans.

Sage was the pack leader, showing both Annie Oakley and Willa just how to be a lab (of course, Annie Oakley also marches to her own Milk Bone but that is another story).

It is clear to me, a week since Sage's death, that the two girls are still mourning.  This morning, each of them came to me, seeking lots of attention.  They tend to hang more closely together than they had before.  The dynamic has altered.

They are happy, no doubt about that.  But they feel loss.

It's still sad at Sage's home.

Murphy's Day.

It's Been a Week

It has been a long long week.  And a week since Sage died.

I can not stop walking downstairs and saying "good morning" Sage when I get up.  I can not stop looking at her beds, wondering where she is.  I can not stop listening for her, worrying about her.

It's been a week.

Murphy's Day.

The Front Yard

As we all age, small things become important, I think.  For Sage, as she got older and her hind legs didn't want runs or hikes, one thing she absolutely adored was running from the back yard into the front yard.

There were a number of reasons she did this.  One was to find a tennis ball I may have thrown over the fence while playing with Willa or Annie.  Another was to just hang out if I finally got around to gardening.

Sage could always be trusted to hang out in the front yard, that is after a HUGE issue when she was a puppy and left by someone out of in back without checking the gate...and I get a call that Sage is in the street chasing a plastic bottle...

But after that, she was perfect in the front yard.

And sometimes, actually, a lot of times, I would intentionally throw the tennis ball over the fence because she so loved running into the front and feeling important finding the tennis ball.  It was her moment.

I've been out in back several days now, throwing tennis balls.  And once, one went over the fence.  Willa, who was a keen observer of Sage, bolted for the gate, whimpered to be let out, and ran for the tennis ball.  Sage left a legacy.

The front yard.  Sometimes it really is a small thing that is important.

Murphy's Day.

Tenderness

As dogs age there is a certain tenderness.  Sage was always a sweet girl, but in her last half of the year, we both shared a certain tenderness.  Every morning I would walk her in the neighborhood, going out the front door before it was light, walking down the street sharing our impressions of the day.  On occasion, we would run into friends who would greet Sage...as Sharon called her, the Grand Dame of Ballard....and she would wag her tail and do her little dance.

Then I began feeding her by hand.  I would sit on the floor, gather a scoop of food in my hand, and she would eat, coming back for more and more until her bowl was empty and I would sigh, knowing she was ok for another day.

I am so grateful for those moments, for that time together.  She got all of my love, focused on her and she continued to give me all of her love.

Tenderness is a two way street with labs.

Murphy's Day.

Routines

I get up early.  Or it seems early to me.

And in the past year, instead of having Sage go with the two younger labs, I would walk her around the neighborhood before I went for my run.

This morning, I got up early, came downstairs, and said "Good morning Sage," to an empty bed.  And now, now I sit here wondering what I should do.

There is a very large hole in our lives.  Over the weekend, both Annie Oakley and Willa were subdues, searching every place Sage would normally hang out.  She was the leader of our pack.

I am thrilled that I had those walking moments with Sage.  It was our time together, alone.  We would explore the yards, look at stars, listen to the wind, pick up the newspaper.  It was our routine of love.

Murphy's Day.

Sweet Baby Sage

Writing this is hard.

As I came downstairs this morning, I listened for her.  And she was gone.

We have been together, roaming the world, finding perfect fishing spots, taking hikes to gorgeous alpine lakes, sitting on the back porch watching the moon rise, meeting friends and neighbors on walks to the bluff...for twelve years.  And this morning, Sweet Baby Sage is no longer here.

I started this blog to write about Murphy, Sage's older sister.  It was Sage who stayed by my side every day after Murphy died, getting me out of bed to walk, then to run, again.  Last night, Willa slept tucked beside me, not letting an inch get between us.  Annie Oakley played night watchman, sleeping beside the bed, then in the crook of the stairs.  This house feels heavy with sadness and sorrow.  And so I write again.

I shall miss you more than ever Sage.

Murphy's Day.

Weekends in the City

Stayed in the city this weekend.

We had several projects to finish.  But it is always hard to stay in the city.  Not as much fun as romping in the fields, listening to the hawks, and rolling (particularly Annie Oakley) in the snow.

But, projects are finished and Willa got to watch her Denver Broncos (she was born in a suburb of Denver) win the Super Bowl.

Should out to the great Subaru ad...

Murphy's Day.

Contrasts

Black dog.  Snow.  A study in contrasts.

But there is also the contrast between Willa, who is now 4 and Sage who is 12.  Willa goes crazy in the snow, while Sage, still excited about it, is also a little cautious.  But you can tell, somewhere inside of Sage she is remembering all the "mad dogs" she did, all the hurling herself into snow drifts.

Life is about creating a bank of memories.

Murphy's Day.

Well, There is Always Winter to Enjoy!

So the Seahawks lost.

Fortunately, there is always winter to enjoy!

Murphy's Day.

What Labs Love

Among other things, labs love snow.  Sage and Annie Oakley begin rolling and making lab angels in the snow they minute they leap out of the car.  Willa doesn't seem that interested in lab angels, but she sure does love to romp in it.

Fortunately this year we have snow.  Although it hasn't snowed in a week and it was a rather balmy 37º this past weekend, there was still a lot of snow.  Good for the land, good for labs.

Although, I have to say, as she has aged and slowed down, the snow is a little hard on Sage.  As stoic as she is, she pulled herself out of post-holing and got on firmer ground, but I need to be mindful of her in this snow.

Happy labs in the snow.  Doesn't get much better.

Murphy's Day.

Happy New Year!

We woke up in 2016 to 3°!

But there is plenty of snow and yesterday there was gorgeous sunshine.  The girls and I skied right out the front door.

Does it get any better?

Happy New Year.

Murphy's Day.