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.