341/365

DPP7-

(Who knew that when we finally got this guy groomed, it would be the coldest day of the year? Sorry Dillon, but hey- at least ya got your pants on!)

The day starts with salt instead of sugar in the oatmeal- really, no joking. As far as disappointments go, that ranks pretty high. There's not much recovering from that sort of accident. I keep trying to make arrangements for my day back at the other home, but nothing seems to come together. And the day continues to become wetter and darker and colder as each hour passes.

Some days might best be described as Roller Coaster Days, highs and lows from one turn to the next. The frustrating turns happy at the next errand on the list. For who doesn't smile when busting a newly coiffed dog out of the groomers? He captures the attention of the girls working the registers and the little kids waiting on their moms. He's a people-person, that dog, much more so than his two chaperones.

Then comes the slow couple of hours holding and feeding a baby, holding and sipping a warm cup of coffee, holding and exchanging words with those whom time always passes too quickly. We ponder this and that and laugh out loud, at ourselves and each other, which is the very best kind of time spent, I think. Wouldn't be wonderful to leave every stop with your heart full?

But then, there comes the hurry to stop on the last errand before grabbing dinner to support a local fundraiser, all in time to make the 6pm cheap movie. Everything looks to be falling into place- until the car battery dies, one hopeful turnover that doesn't quite catch, and then, nothing. Our first rescuer doesn't quite succeed, though not for lack of trying. Thankfully, the best place to be stranded with a dead battery in need of replacement is the Sam's Club parking lot. The automotive guys play hero for us, one guy even pulling up his own car to jump start us on this cold, windy, and wet evening. We move the car to the garage bays and they provide a new battery in a matter of minutes. We finish the transaction and sit in the car for a few minutes, heater blasting, just to warm up.

We miss the start of the movie by then. After stopping by the fundraiser to buy dinner, we head home. We are content to be on the couch with a movie there, thankful to be out of the weather, grateful to pull back into shelter after this up and down roller coaster kind of day.

230/365

In dog years, he counts something around 84, we suppose, though there remains some dispute that it could be closer to 91. He naps a good many hours a day, moving from the expected back of the couch or curled up in a chair to a hidden corner behind a side table or next to the toilet. Yes, the toilet. We can't figure that one out either.
He lived a bit of a sad existence through the summer, when most of us were away and we had to count on the kindness of friends to feed and water and love on him when we weren't. He became a bit neglected, smelling doggydog, hindquarters a bit matted, beard a bit disheveled.

Therefore, it was time for a long overdue spa day at home, a gotta-get-him-cleaned-up-before-we-can-pay-to-get-him-groomed, makeover. He tolerated the wash and spin cycle well. Of course, he ran around like a pup once released from the tub, rubbing himself caddywhompus on the entryway rug, siding back and forth against the couch, shaking and spraying innocent kitchen bystanders. We left him to dry on his own. But once his fur lost the wet, he couldn't avoid the inevitable brushing. We fluffed and detangled and cut out knots, one set of hands at work on the coat, the other set petting and restraining and calming him, all while whispering sweet nothings like "you're such a good boy." He remains a patient pup, with a very short memory and awfully forgiving towards his people.

The end result?
Still in need of help. But awfully cute while waiting.

141/365

Dear A Dog's Purpose-

I wept.
Flat out, ugly cry, gasping out loud for air, sobbed.

I thought I knew what I was getting into. I thought I was ready for a dog movie. Maybe it was the combination of the kids growing up and the dog growing old and my own kids growing up and my own dog getting old. Maybe it was the very familiar voice of the dog, one with words similar to those we imagine our own pup speaking. No matter, the cinema experience this afternoon was something akin to ripping out my heart and stomping on it, four times.

Then we came home and told our old man Dillon what a good dog he is. Yes, he has fulfilled his purpose.

No more dog movies for a while, okay?
Thanks.
k.

127/365

Many many years ago my family started the practice of sitting towards the front of the church. Like most weekly church-goers, we have a row of chairs that we naturally gravitate towards, a home base of sorts. But on this Sunday, an unknowing visitor got to those seats ahead of us. We moved up one more row, now only one family in front of us.

For me, the only downside to sitting up front is that you don't see who is sitting behind you. If I don't get to the back quickly enough after the service, I may never even know some folks were worshipping with me. But on this Sunday, we also had that particular blessing of sharing communion. The current practice of our church is that the entire congregation files forward to the front, one by one, one row after another. Our pastors and elders serve each participant a tiny square of flaky flat bread and a tiny cup of wine. We then return down the side aisles to our chairs and wait to eat and drink together.

And so, sitting there and waiting, I saw nearly everyone in the congregation pass by. My youngest buddies waved. A friend I had not seen for several weeks grabbed my hand. My teammate squeezed my shoulder. I watched young moms and dads wrangle kids up the aisle. I saw a lady whisper to a teen and they exchanged grins. I noticed the ladies in Mexican dresses and the guys in boots and jeans and the little girls in swirly skirts and the little boys whose shirts are never ever tucked quite all the way in. Then I watched our elders carefully slip between music stands and guitar necks and bow strokes to serve our musicians, knowing who prefers the wine and who wants the juice without even asking.

The Lord's Supper is that tangible reminder of the grace Jesus purchased for us on the cross, giving his body and his blood for our salvation. But it is also a reminder of the grace we need and the forgiveness we require every day, living out life on this side of heaven. How thankful I am for the work of Chirst, for the body, for the fellowship of believers, for the opportunity to know and remember again how very sweet the gospel of Christ is.

(and of course, the photo has nothing to do with any of that. Later in the afternoon, we gathered together for Bible study and that beautiful bird got a pass out of his cage to visit with us...)

87/365

“I am the Cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me.” 
― Rudyard Kipling, The Cat That Walked By Himself

What is it that the neighborhood cats choose MY yard to hang out in?

72/365

Truth be told, we girls all rather thought that it was the end for this furry friend. What began as an annoyance a few nights prior steadily escalated into a health crisis for our octogenarian pup. I expected the worst when we carried him into the vet on Monday morning and gently laid him on the exam table. After lab work and x-rays failed to reveal anything critical or immediately life threatening, we left him for a dose of B12 and fluids. We were slightly encouraged but still, apprehensive.

Imagine our surprise when we returned at the end of the day, and out walks our Dillon, tail wagging at top speed, as if to say, "Girls! Get me outta here!" We left with meds and special food and the checking account a bit lessened, but grateful. Once home, he still retired hard at the end of the day, but we're pretty sure he has yet a little time left with us. We'll take it.

57/365

“When a newspaper posed the question, “What’s Wrong with the World?” the Catholic thinker G. K. Chesterton reputedly wrote a brief letter in response: “Dear Sirs: I am. Sincerely Yours, G. K. Chesterton.” That is the attitude of someone who has grasped the message of Jesus.” 
― Timothy J. Keller, The Prodigal God: Recovering the Heart of the Christian Faith

53/365

Halfway down the stairs
is a stair
where i sit.
there isn't any
other stair
quite like
it.
i'm not at the bottom,
i'm not at the top;
so this is the stair
where
I always
stop.

Halfway up the stairs
Isn't up
And it isn't down.
It isn't in the nursery,
It isn't in town.
And all sorts of funny thoughts
Run round my head.
It isn't really
Anywhere!
It's somewhere else
Instead!
- "Halfway Down" by A.A. Milne

119/366

He was only interested in me because I had a handful of Chocolately Cats.

107/366

gratitude-

For consider what great things he has done for you. (1Samuel 12:24)
morning faithfulness
timely phone calls
God's provision
beautiful girls
sweet friends
the message of a single glance
ease around the table
laughing 'til you cry
really good food and really good fellowship
SENTRI
falling in my bed at the end of a very full day

86/366

what is it about a puppy?

(ps- the pup is NOT ours. I am the Iron Lady when listening to any pleas for puppies. We only were loving on him for a bit...)

70/366

On this evening the after dinner chatter overwhelmed, and we snuck out the door, me and my pup, for a hike around the 'hood. I heard the parrots; I knew that I heard the parrots. We turned the corner and they launched from the tree, winging back and forth across the dusky sky. I will never tire of parrot sightings!

The mantra continues-
more parrots, less grackles.

55/366

At the end of this day, it was Panda Pop and pup.

34/366

Dillon chillin' with some tunes...

(have I mentioned, he's a patient one...)

25/366

when the meter guy is so close, and yet, so far...

337/365

DPP3- oh he is a patient one...

326/365

thankful:
for cool mornings,
sweet oatmeal with berries,
gathering for prayer,
worship,
rest,
phone calls,
fellowship,
more prayer.

(and a fuzzy wookie dog waiting at the door)

271/365

"Go, dogs. Go!" The light is green now.
- Go, Dog. Go! by Dr. Seuss

Silly dog, taking the girls to school.

190/365

Life. You just can't make these stories up.

We sat around the dining room table, eating and reading and tapping notes on the computer and doing other ordinary everyday things on an ordinary Thursday afternoon. The birdcage hangs in the corner of the room. The birds are nearly always making noise of some sort- chattering at themselves and  prattling at us, rustling around, squeaking the cage. But this flutter sounded a bit different. If we didn't know better, you might think that little WALL-E was making a suicidal plunge from the nest. He hung by the green string upside down, flapping about. His faithful caretaker jumped to the cage and nestled him and removed him from his plight. But a piece of yard remained, tightly entangled around his foot.

Oh, motherhood! The surprises you offer! Today it was to play surgeon to a little finch. While Sarah firmly but gently cuddled our annoyed bird friend, pecking at her the entire time, I used tiny sewing scissors to remove the string from his tarsometatarsus (yes, I looked that up). And then we set him back in his home. The normally feisty and bit cantankerous Taeniopygia guttata (yes, I looked that up, too) remained on his perch the rest of the day, obviously a bit stunned by the events of the afternoon. But, we believe he'll be fine. And with a story to share with EVE and M-O. 

Life. You just can't make these stories up.

(photo note: yes, I had to take a picture before the procedure began. See the string on his foot?)

152/365

dapper after grooming
(& ready to get out of there!)