One Dog + One Puppy...

...sometimes equals chaos. Oh well. Just whose idea was this to get a puppy for Savannah to help her over her post-lost-days depression?

As I type this, Savannah is sleeping in her bed in the breakfast room and Satchmo is sleeping underneath the table in the breakfast room. Satchmo has his own bed, in a corner of the kitchen quite near the breakfast room, but at times this puppy wants to be close to Savannah. And, blessedly, this is one of those times.

For days now, both Savannah and Satchmo have been at each other... each trying to be #1 dog of this house, and neither one succeeding. Satchmo is smaller (much) and faster (much) than Savannah and he can out-maneuver her in their quest for who gets all the toys.  We have two of every dog toy, but Savannah has decided that she wants them all, rather than sharing them with Satchmo. You would be surprised at how many little squeaky-toys Savannah can manage to get into her mouth at the same time. Satchmo, however, manages to figure out which toy she has the least hold on, and that's the one he will grab from between Savannah's teeth and then he's off and running to the other end of the kitchen. When that happens, Savannah's grip loosens on all the toys she's holding and one by one, they drop onto the kitchen floor and Satchmo slides and shifts himself on the kitchen tiles so he can grab one, then the other, then the next, and by the time Satchmo is done playing musical toys, Savannah is worn out and panting in the corner and Satchmo is still running and sliding on the floor.

Comical, when you think of it, but unfair to Savannah, whose 70-pound weight cannot be as graceful and as athletic as a 12-pound puppy whose only aim in life is to capture all the toys. There was a lot of growling and snapping last week between these two dogs, so much so that we started asking friends and neighbors if they would like a puppy, or if they knew of anyone else who would be interested in adopting Satchmo. One of our friends put Satchmo into the RAIN (Rescue Animals In Need) Network, and now his photos are all over various Facebook pages.

My phone isn't exactly ringing off the hook (do phones still do that?) with offers of new homes for Satchmo. And that doesn't surprise me. Just with two particular neighbors here who post all lost-dog and adoptable-dog pictures, there are thousands of dogs out there in need of good homes. (Come on, people... get your pets fixed, for goodness sakes! There ought to be a law.)

With that in mind (the lack of phone calls) I have been trying to encourage Satchmo and Savannah to come to some sort of peace agreement. Which means that I have to stop interfering with their quarrels and let them work it out, unless (heaven forbid) one of them is truly being hurt. I have taken an old wooden spoon out of the cupboard and when the growling/snapping starts, I rap that spoon on the kitchen counter and you'd be surprised how quickly that gets their attention. (My grandmother used to do the same thing when a houseful of grandchildren were playing too loudly or too rough... a few raps of her spoon on a chair or counter-top meant the next rap would be on our backsides.)

This morning, I let the dogs be dogs... they played with the toys, stole them from one another, went running through and around the kitchen and breakfast room, and I just let them be until I heard one of them growl or snap at the other. Then a rap of two of the spoon, and all would be quiet for a few seconds before the play started up again. Satchmo was the first one to stand by the back door... he had played so much that he had to go out into the grass, so out we went. When I came back with him, I took Savannah outside. Within ten minutes of all of that, both Savannah and Satchmo were sound asleep, next to one another on the kitchen tiles. Half an hour later, Savannah moved to her bed, and Satchmo followed her and went underneath the breakfast room table, which is quite close to Savannah's corner.

Having two dogs in this house has meant double the work. Especially in the morning when both dogs need to go outside (Satchmo goes first, since he's the puppy and I know Savannah can hold it longer). Then Sweet Pea (inside cat) needs to be fed and have his litter box cleaned, and then the same procedure for Mickey (outside cat) who has litter boxes in the garage because he sleeps safely in there at night. And then we have Barn Kitty (all black kitten) who showed up last week and I've been feeding him because he's so scrawny and pitiful. And it's only me, only two hands, only two legs, and somehow it all gets done. I may be frazzled at the end, but it all gets done. And gets repeated throughout the day, every day.

My husband took both dogs out for a walk after lunch today. He was out of the house with them for less than two minutes. Both dogs had already been outside not thirty minutes before he decided to see what it was like to walk both Savannah and Satchmo at the same time.  "Walking two dogs is a lot harder than walking just one," my husband told me when he came back into the kitchen.

Welcome to my world.

Friday stuff...

Yet another day of pouring rain. Just when you thought that huge rain cloud had passed us after giving us two pretty days, the sky opened up and turned a warm and sunny morning into a steaming, humid, muggy, soggy afternoon.  For the entire month of August, we haven't had a good-hair day.

However... we've had some good-puppy days here. Savannah and Satchmo continue to take turns being the puppy-boss of the house. Savannah is very patient with the puppy when he nips at her ears or tries to grab hold of the fur around her neck with his teeth. When Savannah has clearly had enough, she will take her paw and just let it fall on Satchmo's head or on his back, and that quickly calms him down. A good long walk up and down the road will do the same thing, and I've done that quite a few times during the day. Satchmo loves to walk, head held up high as he inspects the road and the surrounding pastures.  I honestly believe he thinks he's in a parade in the French Quarter, judging by the way he prances up and down our hill. When Satchmo has had enough walking, he will just stop and lay himself down in the middle of the road. A little tug on the leash will get him going again, but if it's too hot in the sun out there, I'll just pick him up and carry him back to the house. (No, this puppy is not spoiled.)

I have been tucking Satchmo into the quilted tote-bag that I bought for him... he loves it... his head peeks out from between the two front shoulder straps and his tail is usually sticking out from the back and he keeps it wagging as he inspects the view from different rooms. I fully intend to bring Satchmo into town one day, to the pet store there along Main Street.... this puppy is just begging for an outfit. Or two.

Speaking of that... I found a board on Pinterest showing puppy clothes made from baby onesies. With that in mind, I looked in the local thrift store and found a 0-3 month onesie that's blue with a pattern of tiny puppies and dog-houses. Now how perfect could that be? And for just one dollar, and a pair of scissors (to remove the snaps at the bottom), Satchmo now has a cute little tee-shirt to keep him from shivering in the central air-conditioning. (I haven't yet brought Satchmo outside in that little shirt... it's way too hot out there for such a thing now, but just wait till the cooler weather rolls in.)

The stray kitten is still in the barn... and I'm still feeding him. Barn Kitty (more of a description than a real name) has been eating all the Fancy Feast and Purina One Kibble that Mickey turns away from. Stray cats are usually so hungry that they're not as picky as house cats who have learned that there's an endless variety of cat-food flavors. ("I don't feel like tuna today... what else have you got?")  If I can get that stray kitten into a cat-carrier, then off to the shelter he will go, regardless of my fondness for all-black cats. I just don't have enough hands to take care of one 70-lb. dog, one 12-lb. puppy, one inside cat, one garage/coop/outside cat, and one barn cat.

For the pet-lovers out there who think that taking care of two dogs is just as easy as taking care of one.... think again. Because Savannah and Satchmo are so different in size, it's very difficult to walk them at the same time, and believe me, I have tried many times. Had we not truly believed that having another dog would help Savannah, a second dog would not have been on my wish-list. That being said.... this afternoon we heard a loud boom from somewhere in the hills... we don't know if it was a gun or a back-fire from a farm vehicle, but we clearly heard the noise reverberating  in the house. Within a split second of that noise, Savannah ran from the TV room and skidded to a halt in the kitchen, right next to the spot where Satchmo was sitting. Savannah didn't start shaking and I didn't have to put that ThunderShirt on her... she just sat down next to 'her' puppy and she was fine.

I will have to remember that when I'm asking myself if I had lost my mind when I agreed to getting another dog. And that question pops up at least three times a day as I'm trying to get two dogs out into the yard, or Savannah is trying to eat food from Satchmo's tiny bowl, or both dogs are drinking water from Savannah's large bowl and there's water splashing all over my floor and I have to clean it up before I step into it and go sliding on the tile. ("How come Momma is flat-out on the floor like that? Doesn't she look funny?")

Satchmo Puppy

I do believe that Satchmo knows his name now. It's either that or he just comes running across the breakfast room anytime he hears my voice. Either way, he's awfully cute as he runs with his ears flapping and his tail wagging and each of his legs seem to be a little out of sync so it looks like he's tap-dancing. Honestly, all he needs is a puppy-sized Mardi Gras parasol.

Satchmo and Savannah have become new buddies with each new day, with Savannah clearly taking charge of just how much puppy-play she will tolerate from the little guy. Satchmo is still very much a puppy at seven months old, playing and climbing and biting and trying to surround Savannah's back like she's the horse and he's the saddle. If I think they're playing too rough, I will call out Satchmo's name and both of them will look at me and stay perfectly still for about a minute or so, then it's usually Savannah who will nudge Satchmo with her nose, knocking him down onto her pillow-bed and then the gymnastics begin all over again.

And then there are mornings when both of them are sprawled out in the middle of the kitchen floor like bookends, in nearly the exact position except Satchmo's 10 pounds to Savannah's 70 pounds make quite a difference in those doggie-bookends. I have to laugh as I try and maneuver my way around two dogs now as I walk around the kitchen.

I went to the thrift store this morning, determined to find a soft tote bag for Satchmo. I know they have all sorts of dog carriers in the larger pet stores, but I didn't want to spend a lot of money on one of those without knowing if Satchmo would be comfortable sitting in one.  I found the perfect quilted tote with sturdy shoulder-straps and a soft interior. The colors are green and ivory with black trim, and the exterior pattern is jungle animals... lions and tigers and such. Satchmo fits in it nicely and seems to like it. He sat right down in it and I put it over my shoulder and walked all over the house with him as he peeked out at all the rooms he hasn't seen before. The tote has an outside pocket so I can tuck his leash in there along with some treats. I wonder if Satchmo realizes he's about to become a tote-bag puppy.

When I came back from town today, I saw a small black kitten by our barn. It's been quite a while since we've had a stray cat on our property, and I normally would have ignored this one, but it was so little, plus it's all black. I have a soft spot in my heart for all-black cats, which are very often the last-picks of a litter and sometimes no one chooses them at all and either brings them to a shelter or drops them off in the woods. I quickly put Mickey into the coop before I took some cat food and water over to the barn. The stray black was meowing when he saw me, and he walked slowly into the barn and peeked out as I set the food/water down for him. Before I took two steps away from the barn, he pounced on that food... scrawny little thing... I knew he was starving.  Our own Mickey is an all-black cat, and we also had two other all-blacks over the years (Shadow and ShadowBaby). As I said... I cannot resist an all-black cat.  I will keep feeding this one over at the barn, and hopefully he'll stay a barn cat and keep the field mice under control over there. I'm not sure if Mickey knows there's another cat on the property, but Mickey usually likes everyone (people/cats/dogs) so I'm hoping this little stray is a friendly one. I know that Mickey has been missing Gatsby since we had to put him down last Spring... I don't think Mickey likes being the only cat on the property and this new cat may end up being his buddy.

For right now, everyone on four furry feet seems to be quite happy.... Savannah has a puppy that she likes, Mickey has a potential playmate outside, and Sweet Pea is going from one dog-bed to another and claiming each as his own. "I am the cat, and that's that."

A sunny Saturday...

...for a change.  It has been raining (pouring) for days now. I am so tired of having to put on boots to walk around the yard with Savannah and Satchmo. And it has rained so much that the grass is as high as Satchmo's belly, so I'm sure the blades of grass are an annoyance to the stitches from his neutering operation.

I think Satchmo has grown a bit since we got him. He seems taller, and a little fuller... his face is still tiny-puppy cute, and those floppy ears of his are irresistible. Both dogs are getting along very well, and Sweet Pea and Satchmo were even sleeping in the same bed yesterday afternoon... it was Satchmo's bed that Sweet Pea curled up in, and when Satchmo came into the kitchen and found part of his bed occupied, he just walked right into it and curled up next to the cat and that was that.

Satchmo is not a big eater, unless you give him what he likes. And what does he like best? The brisket and turkey from a local restaurant ("Truth BBQ"). The meats there are very good, and expensive for this area, but the quality and taste can't be matched, so the price becomes a non-issue. (And heaven knows that the number of really good restaurants in this town is down near the bottom of the totem pole.)

So my husband goes to "Truth" once a week, and now he's sharing the meats with both Savannah and Satchmo, making sure to cut the pieces into chucks to fit the size of each dog.  Needless to say, both dogs follow my husband from room to room, with the hopes that he's heading for the stash of brisket and turkey.  The next time I go to HEB for groceries, I will have to buy a couple of their cooked chickens... Savannah loves that meat, and I'm hoping that Satchmo will also.

We're still in the midst of trying to get some work done on the house so a new roof can be installed. It's been a nightmare, to say the least. There are very few companies in this particular town that one would choose for construction work, and the problem here is that one of the 2nd floor bathroom dormers needs some serious structural work before a new roof can be put on this house. And once again, true to the nature of this blasted town, either people do not return calls, don't show up as promised, or come to look at the job and say they don't want to do it. Just one more nail in the coffin of this town, as far as I'm concerned. After living in NY for so many years and not having a problem getting such jobs done, and then living within the Houston city limits for years with an unlimited supply of construction and repair people, moving out here into these godforsaken hills has been an eye-opener in a long list of non-efficient workers.

But on the bright side... the sun is shining today, and Satchmo makes us both smile whenever we look at him. Savannah is gaining her confidence back now that there is another dog in the house, and we couldn't have asked for a better-behaved puppy than Satchmo.

Officially fixed....

I took Satchmo to the vet's today, for fixing and chipping. Our poor little puppy was not too happy when the technician carried him into the back room, and I heard him barking for me when he got back there. ("Wait a minute! I'm with her!")  It was hard to leave him there this morning, but he only had to stay at the clinic till 3:30 this afternoon.

Since then, Satchmo has been very sleepy and groggy. He was a gentleman in the vet's office, not peeing on either me or the floor when they brought him out to the front desk. My little Satchmo waited till he got outside in the grass and then he let loose, as if he had been drinking water by the gallon since this morning.  When I got him in the car, Satchmo curled up in my lap and stayed there for the drive home.

I'm sure that Savannah missed Satchmo this morning because when I took her for a walk after lunch, she seemed to be searching the yard for him, and she was definitely not happy to be in the yard without her tiny buddy. When I walked into the kitchen with Satchmo this afternoon, Savannah came out of the TV room with a serious look on her face, and then she saw the puppy on the floor and her mouth opened up into a big sloppy grin and she walked over to him and smelled him from nose to tail. ("Oh... she got you, too. I should have warned you.")

For the last few hours, both Savannah and Sweet Pea have been tip-toeing around Satchmo, and there was a point when Satchmo tried to navigate around the kitchen floor but he was too groggy to really stand up on the tile. As Satchmo started to melt into the floor, Savannah ran to him and used her nose to prop him up so he wouldn't fall flat on his puppy face.  Savannah is such a gentle old soul, and I think some sort of mothering instinct has come out of her since Satchmo joined our family.

It will be a quiet night, I'm sure.... Satchmo is in his crate now so I don't have to worry about him sliding on the floor in his current state of post-anesthesia..... and Savannah is watching him from the breakfast room... and Sweet Pea is sitting on a little table next to the puppy's crate and he's just watching the sleeping Satchmo.

After midnight...

...and this is the third time I've come downstairs because Savannah barked. Correction. Roared. Her roaring bark is enough to wake the dead, but she hasn't done this in quite some time, and she doesn't roar without a reason. When I came down here the second time, I opened up the back door and heard the most awful sort of howling. Sort of like a coyote, but more wolf-sounding. Do we have wolves up here in the hills? (Well, why not. We seem to have everything else.)

Being that the howling was way off in the woods, I brought Savannah outside to pee in the grass. While we were out there, we heard the howling again and Savannah wanted to go back up the stairs and into the house. No way... she got me up and out, so I was determined that she do something, which she did. I think Savannah has learned now that I'm not going to settle for taking her outside just to look at the stars.

When I got back into the house, Satchmo was awake and standing up in his crate. I put his leash on him and quickly brought him out into the grass also. Even in the middle of the night, this puppy is so happy to be inside, outside, wherever... he is just the ultimate definition of happy.  Satchmo quickly used the grass and back we came into the house and he quietly went into his crate. This puppy has slept through every night without so much as a whimper. I have only taken Satchmo out into the grass after midnight when Savannah has woken me up for a wildlife inspection.

Satchmo had a busy day today.... Gloria from down the road came to meet him, and then J & J from up the road stopped in on their way home from a trip and were surprised to see that we had a new 'baby' in the house. Unlike Savannah, who was (and still is) cautious with people who don't live in her house, Satchmo quickly becomes friends with everyone he meets. As friend Cindy says--- everyone this puppy sees is immediately his new best friend.

We have had rain here for the past two days... much needed pouring-down rain from a sky that hasn't opened up with rains for two months. Everything is sopping wet outside, and walking in the grass with Savannah and Satchmo means boots are necessary on the way out, and four doggie-feet have to be dried off on the way back in. Satchmo's tiny feet don't need as big a towel as the one I use for Savannah.

I can see the difference in Savannah's personality since we adopted Satchmo... she's more confident, less fearful, and Satchmo has become not only a play-mate in the house but a walking buddy outside in the yard. It didn't take too long to learn to control two different leashes without having them end up in a tangled mess, and there are days when I'm walking around that yard and smiling because I never thought we would have two dogs at the same time.

My husband and I have surely had more than our share of pets over the years... mostly cats, some of which were gone quickly and others that lasted for more than 12 years.  We had our dog Gracie for nearly 15 years, and Savannah's Border Collie/Great Pyrenees mix should keep her as healthy as Gracie's Border Collie/Black Lab mix.  With Satchmo's mix of Cavalier Spaniel and Papillon, he should have at least a ten or twelve-year life with us also.

Our inside cat Sweet Pea has already accepted Satchmo, much quicker than he learned to trust Savannah when we brought her home last year. I think Sweet Pea was intimidated by Savannah's size when she was a puppy (a very large puppy when we first got her). Satchmo is about the same size and weight as Sweet Pea, so maybe he thinks the puppy is just a different sort of cat. Whatever the reason, Sweet Pea, Savannah, and Satchmo are all getting along nicely.  And we have suddenly turned into one of those families who children's names all begin with the same letter. (Except for Mickey, who's the odd one out at the moment.)

Puppy Daze

How did we get so lucky... to find another great puppy. As I type this, Satchmo is sitting on my lap like a cat, with his chin resting on the table in front of my laptop. I can't tell if he's sleeping or if he's watching the letters pop up on the screen as I type. Either way, this little 12-pound dog is very loving, extremely cute, and he's fitting into our little family as if he's been here for years rather than just days.

I've been doing some research on different dog breeds, trying to find which ones match Satchmo's personality and body type. I must have looked at hundreds of puppy photos within the last couple of days-- not exactly a difficult chore.  As best as I can tell, Satchmo is definitely a mix of King Charles Cavalier Spaniel and Papillon.  Depending on how big he gets when he's closer to a year old, he may even be the 'toy' version of the Cavalier Spaniel.  His coloring is a deep caramel or honey color, which is called 'ruby' by the Cavalier Spaniel breeders.  My husband took that opportunity to suggest that maybe we would like to re-name him Ruby, rather than keeping the Satchmo name.  Not likely. This puppy already turns around when I call out 'Satchmo!' so I think he already recognizes his name. And in my opinion, it's nice to have the name Satchmo out in the world again. My hope is that someone other than our little puppy is nick-named Satchmo, in honor of the legendary Louis Armstrong.

I think my husband is indeed pleased with Satchmo's name anyway... he's been singing "What A Wonderful World" and "When The Saints Go Marching In" these last few days... and trying to imitate Armstrong's voice (which is what my grandfather used to do years ago).  And just what would Gary be singing if we had named the puppy Ruby? (Some sad old country song, probably.)

We have seen the difference in Savannah since adopting this puppy... Savannah is no longer afraid to go out at night anymore. All I have to do is put her leash on her and out we go... no more tugging her to get her off the sofa, no more watching her standing on the porch and looking around the yard before walking down the steps. It seems like most of Savannah's fears have disappeared, most of which came to the surface after those unexpected fireworks back in late April which resulted in her being lost for 12 days. We had hoped that having a puppy companion would soothe Savannah's tortured soul, and it has surely worked.

Two dogs....  two.... to feed, to brush, to walk, to keep clean and healthy. I thought I had lost my mind on that first morning when I came down the stairs and realized that I had to walk two dogs. Should I take the puppy first since he had been in a crate all night?  Or should I take Savannah first since she was the 'number one' dog in this house?  I solved that problem by taking them both at the same time... and it worked.  The leashes got a bit tangled here and there, but that was sorted out easily.

Savannah has surprised us by being very welcoming to Satchmo.... she lets Satchmo climb all over her till she's had enough, and then she just moves away or gives the puppy a little growl which seems to be a dog version of "Enough!"  And Satchmo gets the hint and just walks away, but then goes back for more within five minutes.

I bought puppy-sized chew-bones made with peanut butter, which Satchmo doesn't like, but Savannah clearly loves.  Satchmo's uneaten treat stayed in front of her crate for a couple of hours, but when I left the kitchen, Savannah must have claimed it for her own because she came out of the TV room licking her lips and Satchmo's treat was gone.  I will have to find small treats for the puppy that Savannah doesn't like.

If nothing else, this puppy has brought Savannah out of her shell, which is a joy to behold. Our 'broken' Savannah, post-fireworks, was heart-wrenching to see. I could have cried every night when I tried to get her to just walk outside in the grass before we all went to bed. That hesitant behavior has just disappeared, like magic.  Satchmo just waved his little paw and presto! we have our Savannah back. This new little puppy may weigh only a dozen pounds now, but he's worth his weight in gold to me. Plus he's just so darn cute that (as my grandmother would say) you just want to eat him up!

Satchmo

The nickname of the legendary jazz musician Louis Armstrong was 'Satchmo.'   That great man was the favorite entertainer of my grandfather, who would hold a white handkerchief in one hand and an imaginary trumpet in the other hand as he paraded in the living room of his big old house in Queens every time Armstrong was on television.

Everyone loved Satchmo... he was full of life and enthusiasm, always ready to play that trumpet and prance around the stage as the band played on. In my mind's eye, I can see Satchmo dancing along a New Orleans street in the midst of a Mardi Gras parade, with his trumpet in one hand and his signature white handkerchief in the other hand.

Satchmo. The world was a different place when Louis Armstrong was on this planet. I can hear him singing now.... "I see skies of blue, red roses too.... what a wonderful world.... oh yeah.... what a wonderful world."

The name Satchmo seemed like the perfect name for our new puppy, who has been a member of our little family for just a few days now.  My husband and I had talked about getting another dog, with the hope that a happy little puppy would be good company for Savannah as she continues to come out of her shell after being lost for those 12 days last May.  The once-happy Savannah that we knew before the unexpected fireworks exploded on our road has disappeared somewhat, giving us a dimmer version of the bright light that was once our Savannah.

Savannah has always been so comfortable with dogs, even more so than with people... so off and on, we looked at adoptable dogs on rescue web-sites. I had been posting lost-dog and found-dogs on Savannah's Facebook page, in the hopes of helping those dogs get adopted... my way of saying thanks to all the rescue sites that helped us so much when Savannah was lost.

A few nights ago, I posted a very cute photo of a six-month-old puppy that seemed to be a mix of undefinable cuteness.  I thought of showing the photo to my husband as a possible playmate for Savannah but I didn't do that... just too busy with other things that day.  Later that same day, my husband happened to look at the Facebook page, saw that same puppy, and said "We need to see about this puppy for Savannah."  And he called the number... the people brought the puppy by to meet us... and we now have Satchmo.

We went through dozens of names for this honey-colored puppy whose hair will be longer when it grows back..... the vet had to shave matted hair off this poor puppy's coat when he was found in a local park. As always, names that you think will work just didn't sound right. As a result, the puppy was nameless for his first 24 hours with us.

And then it came to me.... as I watched the puppy prancing up the stairs in his particularly joyful dance, I thought of my grandfather dancing around the living room and saying "Satch-a-mo" with his Italian accent.  All this puppy needed was a little white handkerchief and a Mardi Gras parasol and he'd be right at home in New Orleans. (Or dancing with Grandpa in that living room back in the 1950s and 1960s.)

I'm sure my husband thought I'd lost my mind when I told him that Satchmo would be the perfect name for this bouncy joyous puppy of ours. And the more I called him Satchmo, the more I knew that it was the perfect name for this 12-pound ball of soon-to-be fluff.

We have looked at photos of breeds which look similar to Satchmo, and he seems to be a unique combination of a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel and a Papillion.  His coloring is deep amber, or dark honey, or what they call 'ruby' in the world of Cavalier Spaniels.  Whatever he is, he is a bright ray of sunshine in Savannah's world, and both of them are learning their boundaries with each others toys, treats, and food bowls.

Louis Armstrong would be proud.

August... already?

Once again, I am guilty of not keeping up with this Blog.  I have no idea why I've neglected the daily entries. I've just been busy. Busy reading, busy looking for literary agents, busy watering flowers, busy just trying to be grateful.

There are days when I listen to the news and remind myself to be thankful we don't live near a big city. This country bubble does have its advantages. All we have to deal with is the local wildlife and the insects... a big difference from grid-locked traffic and lunatics with guns and bombs.  I can look out of every window here and see acres of green surrounded by woods. The barn swallows are still sleeping in their nests and flying around the property during the day. The birds recognize us and watch us come and go... we are all sharing this house.

Savannah is doing much better these last few weeks. She still doesn't like to be outside after dark, but she will go quickly into the grass by the back porch before we go to bed. And she sleeps... hardly a bark from Savannah unless she hears a raccoon or an armadillo outside. Gone are the days when she kept waking me up during the night. When Savannah sleeps well, so do I.

Thanks to friend Cindy, the flowerbeds around the house are filled with flowers and color. Zinnias and sweet potato vines and periwinkles and lantana and other pretty plants whose names I've forgotten. I'm watering the flowers twice a day to keep them from broiling in the nearly 100-degree days that we've had for over a month now. The flowers make me smile... it's been satisfying to see that the effort I've put into the watering has been a success. I stand there with the hose while the bees drift from plant to plant... I don't bother them, they don't bother me.

I just finished re-reading Mitch Albom's "The Time Keeper."  It's a magical, unpredictable story that everyone should read. It makes you think about time, the importance of it and the uncertainty of it. One of my favorite parts of this book are these three lines:
"There is a reason why God limits our days."
"Why?"
"To make each one precious."

I have tried to re-set my mind with this house and this property. We live in the country, in a tight little bubble so far removed from city conveniences. The best bookstore is 40 miles away, but I can find any book on Half.com and order it with just one click. The best shoe store is also 40 miles away, but that doesn't matter very much because you can't wear high heels out here anyway and I have a good collection of western-style boots in my closet. The boots aren't delicate... they will last a good long while.

I don't always remember to look at the sunsets every evening. We have such a perfect view from our back porch, but I don't always go out there when the sun is painting the sky with its last breaths of the day. I must promise myself to make an effort to put my book down at sunset time. Sunsets are like snowflakes... each one is unique and most are memorable.

Every day is unique, as is every minute. I am trying my best to be thankful for all that I have here. The life we live in this house on this property in this part of the Hill Country is a dream of many people in this state. I'm living it, but I am not always grateful for it. I can blame that on the wildlife and the snakes and the lack of good bookstores, but those are just excuses.

I will try to do better at keeping up with this Blog. I don't like to abandon projects and leave them unfinished and neglected. There are days when I don't have much to say, and the events on the daily news make my entries here seem trite.  Looking at my Blog statistics, I have nearly 33,000 readers who check my Blogs daily and weekly.  I truly am grateful for those readers, and maybe they're looking for something else to read other than the horrible headlines that we're getting bombarded with from all over the world. In that case, maybe 'trite' is good.