Working Like a Dog

It's an expression I don't think I have ever understood, since my "girls" have never worked!  You know, in the sense of picking up a shovel and digging (however, Murphy has been known to bury her tennis balls and Sage scattered chewies throughout the yard...they both have savings ethic).

But I have been thinking about it in the context of admiring Murphy's willingness to keep on, to always want to go.  And now days, it seems, that is work for her.  But she does it anyway.  Walking to this fishing site, climbing over logs, across slippery rocks, down a rough path.  Sliding down the back stairs to walk around the block.  She has always been willing, but now, it just seems so hard for her.  On the other hand, she doesn't want to give up, and neither do I.  So, we're both working like a dog.  I lift her over the logs, help her on the rocks, walk e v e r  s o  s l o w  across the path.  It's our life, now.

Murphy's day.

Monday

Sorry, no pics this morning.  Tomorrow.  

Murphy seems to be hanging in there.  Several times this weekend she went for walks, having to climb over logs, walk over fairly rough rock, around trees.  I keep her on leash, feeling her dependence on me, her insecurity because of her blindness.  But she was game, standing in the creek when we finally arrived at our "spot," finding a patch of sand to wait for me.  

And in my new litmus tests for her, she ate well and slept through the night.  Her anxiety seems to be much better despite a losing UW and Seahawk football teams, the Mariners in collapse all summer, and a divisive political scene.  

I am proud of Murphy.  She isn't giving up.

Murphy's day.

Walks with Friends

Scott and Ann decided their Golden, Maisey, who is now about 4 weeks past her surgery, could walk on leash, outside.  We met at a spectacular park, just north of Seattle, to herd the four dogs (they also have a Brittany, Dexter) along a nice flat path.  

Sage was ecstatic.  While she has been out, nothing with friends, and nothing this special.  She walked like she was the lead dog on an Iditarod dog team.  

It was good to see all the dogs together, fun to talk politics and world events with my friends, and of course to hear of Scott's upcoming trip to Montana (I am jealous of all the fly fishing he will be doing).  

Almost always it seems to be the simple things.  A nice walk, seeing the dogs healthy, good friends, the sunshine, an amazing view of Puget Sound.  And when I got them back into the car, two happy girls.

Murphy's day.

And They're Off

Conventions over.  Kids are back in school.  It is High Political Season in America.  

Already friends forward emails with ridiculous photos or allegations about certain candidates.  Rumors, anger, vitriolic garbage.  We are supposed to want change, to ask more of our leaders, yet we, ourselves, descend into hurling what we think are insults based on less information than a National Enquirer article.

I look at my two labs and sigh.  Life is about so much more than the intensity we will witness in the next two months.   The real question for me is what are the candidates positions on off-leash areas for dogs?

Murphy's day.

Hanging Out

Sometimes there is nothing better than hanging out.

Since Sage's surgery I worry about taking her places, fearing she will rip out her knee by playing too hard, or not walking quietly.  And then there is Murphy's wandering thing.

But this past weekend they showed how much they like just hanging out.  Sage would position herself so she could recon the Canyon, and Murph found her bed perfectly positioned in the shade.  They kept quiet and close-by.  

Matter of fact, so  did I.  It has been a long summer.  Simply sitting, reading, doing some work, being quiet, hanging out.  Felt wonderful.  

Murphy's day.

Miracle Girl

Periodically I send pictures of Murphy and Sage to my friend, Mary, who was their breeder.  She lives in Maryland and hasn't seen either of them since I drove away, lab pups in my arms (she promises she will get to Seattle...).  

Two pics in her email inbox brought a reply about Murphy, how amazing she is, a miracle girl.  She is 4 months away from being 15.  

Her mother, Cameo, was much loved by Mary.  And Murphy reminds her of that dog, her face, her attitude.  I remember seeing Cameo the first time I met Murph.  Mary had two labs, Cameo and her mother.  They were like pals, coming to the back door as Mary and I walked through, going downstairs to check on the pups with us.  

Sage and Murph, although only related by human Mom, are like that.  If I leave early in the morning, they come to the back porch, staring at me, as if I was breaching some protocol to leave without their permission.  And when I walk through the door, they are both there, Sage, of course, trying to shove Murph out of the way: Me, Mommie, pet me first!

More than longevity, though, Murph is a miracle girl.  Loving, kind, gentle, full of adventure, willing, even to this day, to "go along," so trusting.  Yet she still has her stubborn streak, which is why, I suspect, she is still here.  She will know and let me know when the time is right.  But now, we celebrate Miracle Girl.

Murphy's day.

Back to School

I have always home schooled my girls.  I suppose if I wanted to train them for hunting I would have done things quite differently with Sage, since she barely retrieves, but the home schooling got them both the basics.  They can do reading, writing, some math...

There is a man who is training his Golden at a local park.  Apparently she is off for serious hunting training, soon, which entails using a shock collar.  I am not a fan of those things.  I keep thinking there has got to be a way to train a dog to bring a duck back to you without shocking them.  Is there fun in that?

Sage looks at me like I need to get her some back to school clothes, probably a new collar.  The one she wears has been with her for awhile.  She is thinking Blaze Orange, so she can at least think she is a hunting lab!  Orange, she tells me, is the new black.

Off to make their school lunches!

Murphy's day.