Elton John sang it, Penny lives it, Will can’t afford to pay for it to use in this video. It’s the circle of life! And Miss Mayhem marshalls each of us to make the most of the endless round.
Elton John sang it, Penny lives it, Will can’t afford to pay for it to use in this video. It’s the circle of life! And Miss Mayhem marshalls each of us to make the most of the endless round.
Today marks one year since I lost Eko. Since I lost my heart. In that year I suffered, stumbled and failed. But I also persevered, learned and rebuilt myself. I wear my scars proudly and eagerly share the love and knowledge they’ve earned me. Anything else wouldn’t do justice to my puppy.
I never saw Eko die. I never saw him grow old and gray. I saw him bounding joyfully towards me across the beach one day and then I never saw him again.
So even though tomorrow marks a year since he’s been gone, a part of me still looks for Eko. My dogs and my newborn son have unknowingly been recruited to the search party. Lincoln’s fussing wakes us in the early morning darkness and I load the rescue team into the car.
Penny and Zero race into the pre-dawn haze blanketing the beach. If he’s out there, they’ll find him. Lincoln rests snugly on my chest and we walk quietly along the water. I watch my dogs who are here and wait for the one who is not.
I love watching Penny and Zero cut loose at the beach or wrestle across our carpet, but with a new baby in town I’ve needed my guys to learn how to slow down around Lincoln. Luckily they’ve proven themselves to be excellent and doting big siblings.
Mr. Eko, my first dog, was affable, adventurous and even tempered. I felt quite proud (some might say smug) of the well-mannered pup I raised and trained. I’d look at Eko and marvel at how my puppy grew into the dog I decided he would be.
Because I once believed my dogs were only shaped by my decisions. I was certain their personalities were simply the sum of my choices. Then I met Penny. Read more ›
Just because you’re not a Ridgeback and you can’t even walk yet doesn’t mean you can’t come along for adventure!
Sure, measuring growth and change in height and weight is nice. But I find a study in contrasts to be a lot more fun! Lincoln still has plenty of growing left to do and *gulp* so does Zero!
Sure, it might have been easier to go on vacation without my dogs, but it would have been a whole lot less fun!
The woods are lovely, dark and deep. Just as I remember them.
I spent yesterday driving and I owe tomorrow to the road. But before I pay that debt I have these precious moments alone.
Penny and Zero are with me, but I have always considered my dogs a part of myself. The nameless part I can never share with another person. Not because I lack the will, but because in any attempt to translate it – through word or deed – its truth is lost.
So I silently share this truth with my dogs as we stand in the rain and look down the path leading into the trees. I am here in search of ghosts, but not the Revolutionary War specters many say walk these woods. I am here to commune with a boy and his puppy.
I gather myself, dogs and all, and run into the darkness.
Our bags are packed, and we’re off! Well, some of us are. By the time you read this, Penny, Zero and I will have snuck out in the morning darkness to hit the road east. (And not because we’re deadbeats.) In the infinite naivete of first-time parents, Emily and I decided to take a vacation to Vermont with our six-week-old. The dogs and I are the pack-mules, traveling over land, while Emily and Lincoln serve as our air(line) reinforcements. Eighteen hours of driving vs two hours of flying with a newborn. Pretty much a toss up.
