In the year 2020....

This new year sounds like something out of a science fiction novel. In this year, I will have my 68th birthday, my Aunt Dolly will be 107, and my dad will have been gone from this earth for 12 years. How all this time has disappeared is just beyond any reasonable comprehension.

Thankfully, we have had an easy winter except for two short cold snaps, and I'm hoping this Spring-like weather continues until the real Spring comes along, bringing with it an ocean of bluebonnets and other Texas wildflowers popping up all over our property.

As I type, I can smell pink and white carnations in a glass vase right near me. A surprise gift from my Book Club kids down the road. They showed up at my door this past Monday afternoon with big smiles on their faces, singing out "Thank you for our book club!" as they presented me with the flowers, a scented candle, and two handmade cards. I was so taken aback that I had tears in my eyes, which I tried to cover up by hugging all of them. (Do kids that age know the difference between happy tears and sad ones?)

Speaking of hugs, our dog Savannah literally gave me a big fluffy hug this morning... her paws were around my waist as she was sitting up waiting for her morning bacon treat... she put her head on my neck and just sat there for a minute. Happy tears almost flowed again. Savannah has been a different dog since we began lessons with a magical trainer in Bellville. This dog's confidence and cooperation has tripled... it's as if a light-bulb went off in her doggy-mind, suggesting to her that we're a family and she can truly trust us, rather than her sometimes self-centered old self that didn't need much more than a refill of kibble twice a day and a treat for giving us her paw when asked. And all it took was homework for all of  us each week from a trainer who really knows how to handle a dog who had a questionable start in her puppy life, then a trauma of being lost for 12 days not many months after we adopted her. I think the training lessons, and our work with Savannah, has cemented the fact that we are her people and we love her. There is a doggy-god after all.

Speaking of dogs.... our across-the-road neighbor lost two of her dogs last night. This is the same neighbor who set off the April fireworks which resulted in Savannah being lost for those 12 days a couple of years ago. Her two dogs were on our porch last night, and I recognized them as belonging to D so I quickly called her. She had been looking for them on her property, not knowing that they had crossed the road. I heard the panic and frustration in her voice as she told me they had somehow gotten out of her yard when she thought they were secure for the night.  I went out there with a flashlight, told her which direction they were running, then called another neighbor to tell her the dogs might be heading for her front porch. D got into her truck and headed up the road while I stayed in front of my driveway with the flashlight, hoping to get her dogs back onto our property if they headed down the hill instead of further up. Within fifteen minutes, D had her two dogs (Fancy and Rascal) in her truck and drove them back to their own yard.

Flashes of the night when we couldn't find a trace of Savannah after she had bolted during our walk... bad luck, bad timing for me to have been out on the road with her when those fireworks exploded on D's property.  I will never forget the panic when I woke up face-down on that road and realized that the leash was out of my hand and Savannah was gone. In her rush to get away from the fireworks, Savannah had pulled me down and I hit my head and blacked out, only to be woken up by the second round of explosions from D's yard. Every neighbor here helped us look for Savannah. Almost every neighbor... except the new one who hadn't yet learned that this is a very small community... and what happens on one person's property will affect everyone else in some way.  I think she knows that now. Our neighbor was sincerely appreciative of my efforts in helping her find her dogs. She thanked me profusely. I told her she was very welcome, and I sincerely meant it.