Mornings

Another day with no picture.  

I get up early.  Most weekday mornings around 5 AM.  Many mornings I come downstairs and both girls (now that Sage sleeps downstairs) are still sleeping.  Murphy never stirs, but Sage will look up, from inside her soft crate, and watch me walk around, doing my pre-run routine: get the newspapers, pour orange juice, check the news on-line.  She settles back into her sleep when she realizes I am not going to get her up until I get back from my run.

It's quiet in the morning.  The only sound is a dog breathing, clocks ticking away the time, my computer keys if I am typing.  But listening to the girls, their sounds, evokes a series of emotions: comfort, love, joy, worry.  I sat with Sage for quite a long time last night before I "zipped her in," just talking with her, worrying that she seemed to be afraid to put weight on her leg, again.  Two steps forward, maybe one back.  I keep reminding myself, as I listen to the girls in the morning, that being loved and loving yellow labs is a process.  Ebbs and flows.

Murphy's day and Sage is back to sleep.

The Bag Tax

We live in a city where our elected officials have way too much time on their hands.  This week, the highly paid city council approved our mayor's request for a tax on grocery shopping bags, both paper and plastic.  Unless you bring a bag with you, you're charged 20 ¢ a bag.  Apparently the idea is to save space in land fills.  

I read a few days ago about some small town in Alabama where a yellow lab, co-owner of a coffee shop, is running for mayor.  And now, I am thinking Sage and Murphy ought to run in Seattle.   We could certainly use the money, I mean the city council's salary is way over 100 thousand and the mayor makes big bucks plus has a security detail!  Maybe Sage and Murphy would actually work on some real problems and issues, you know, like rotting infrastructure, homelessness, and not engage in sound bite environmentalism, disguising a tax an environmental fee (the bag tax is expected to bring in 3.5 million in revenue but the program is going to cost $500, 000).

I could get into a rant about how this kind of tax is not the way to change behaviors, but I think I would rather ask "the girls" if they want to run for office.  I think today's picture would make a great campaign photo.  Of course, anyone who runs against them will have a field day with  the skeletons in both of the girls' closets....

Bag tax...good grief!

Murphy's day and Sage, well, she is moving forward.

Long Nights

Murph is now a mystery to me.  The past several weeks she has wandered for four, maybe five hours every night.  I have tried everything, but she still wanders.   And like a mother, I can hear every pant, every nuzzle, every walk.  She finally calms down somewhere between 1:30 AM to 3:00 AM.  And when I finally come downstairs, she is snoring.  

Poor Sage, must get as little sleep as I do during the night.  But then, she can sleep all day.

I know, or I think I know what it is, that she is changing, losing her sense of the world, she gets scared.  And when Murph gets scared there is nothing that calms her down.  I sat with her last night, for a half hour, trying to get her to sleep.  The minute I left, she popped up, and wandered.

It breaks my heart.

Murphy's day

The Cute One

Sage has this look.  She will give you her brown eyes, wag her tail, and maybe even roll on her back as if to say I'm the cute one!  Muprhy is gorgeous and perfect, but I am the cute one!  This weekend she has been perfecting that look and demeanor.  

From bringing out all her stuffed toys to continuing to retrieve (it's a miracle) when I take her to the water, she is trying hard to be the cute one.

This was the third weekend of home detention.  I am not sure, at this point, who is going more crazy, Sage or me.  I stick my nose in the air and smell for Sage, Ponderosa pine, and Aspen.  Sage sticks her nose in the air and smells for anything other than the house!

Murphy is still wandering around the house, thus giving me a Sunday project to make sure things like clocks sitting on top of tipsy tables are secure, while she wanders at night, nuzzling things.  It's a dogs house after all, I am merely the innkeeper.

Murphy's day and Sage's ongoing recovery (retrieving balls...amazing).

Hydro Therapy

Ok, well it wasn't on the Icicle, pictured above, but down the street at a boat launch in Salmon Bay.  Sage swam.  More amazing, however, is she retrieved.  A tennis ball.  I am going to let that soak in, no pun intended.  Sage.  Tennis ball.  Retrieve.  Must be the pain meds.

Murphy's day and Sage on the path to recovery, we hope.

Monster, Inc

Well, we're making progress.  But she also has licked a wound, where she was nicked by the razor when they shaved her hair for surgery, so we have added a new component, vitamin E oil.  I have entered nurse status!

The doc said it would be,  no pun intended, two steps forward a few back.  She walked and put weight on the leg, then started lifting it again.  My anxiety level goes up and down.

As does Murphy's.  Some nights have been good, some I can hear her wander for quiet awhile.

And then I get emails from friends about their fishing exploits!  Sigh.  It's a long summer.

Murphy's day and Sage, yes, still recovering.

Alpe d' Huez

If Murphy rode bikes, she would have dozens of yellow jerseys.  In her day, she had the determination, guts, and sheer athleticism to be able to grind out a climb in the highest mountains.  

So yesterday the riders on the Tour de France climbed the Alpe d' Huez, a legendary climb.  And I thought about how retired cyclists must watch the race, going over each piece of pavement in their minds, feeling the road, closing their eyes and smelling the high alpine air, feeling their lungs burn for more and more oxygen.  

I wonder whether Murphy does the same thing.  That inside her she remembers the days of her adventures.  She goes over the mountains she has climbed, the rivers she has thrown herself into, the forests she has walked through.  Can she smell the alpine air, hear the river, feel the crisp morning?  

Murphy's Alpe d' Huez.  She has conquered the hills...and ridden into Paris wearing her own yellow jersey (and without drugs!).  She is a great athlete enjoying her retirement, but I suspect, wishing she was riding the Tour today!

Murphy's day, and oh, Sage still is in recovery.