Oh, what a day! Puppies to the groomer, puppies to the vet...and I even managed to show up at the office in between. Yeah, it's been a busy day, but I'm glad, because that familiar sadness has been with me all day. The sadness of knowing that tomorrow I'll deliver these precious little souls to their new homes. I'll miss them, but I always do. Then the next litter comes along and I fall in love all over again. It's bitterseet, for sure. We received deposits on all the puppies very early, so I take lots of pictures and email them to their new owners. By the time they are delivered, their new owners love them already, so it's great to see that when we finally meet them. I've been snuggling them all day and getting puppy kisses. They're so warm and soft and smell so sweet. I know why they say pets owners are healthier. They feed the spirit and soothe the soul. Well, so much for all that...gotta go bathe a couple of the bigger dogs. They are a lot of work, but I would quit my "Executive" job in a heartbeat to do this full time. It's much more rewarding.

Scating a thousand miles around the grade school across the street from my house and riding my bike, totally lost in my own world. We walked to the "show" every Saturday to see Godzilla and such just like every other kid in town. Admission was free with a Gandy's milk carton top. Sister always stared bug-eyed at every scary scene while I plastered my hands over my eyes and peeked through my fingers. The floor was sticky with spilled soft drinks and candy and you had to check your hair for gum projectiles that came from the back of the theater. We shopped at TG&Y, Anthony's, Piggly Wiggly and Western Auto. I grew up on Patsy Cline and Jim Reeves playing on the stereo. I was hanging clothes on the line as soon as I was tall enough and when they were brought in, they were sprinkled, rolled into balls and put in the freezer, til time to iron them. I always wondered why we put them on the clothesline to dry, then brought them in and wet them down again...go figure. It didn't seem to be as hot back then, or maybe I just tolerated it better. Being in a small town in west Texas, swamp coolers worked just fine to keep a house cool and I remember loving the smell (and still do) when it was turned on for the first time after a long winter. I loved thunderstorms, probably because we didn't get much rain and when we did, it usually came in the form of a storm. It smelled good too. We played all day and only worried about red ants and grass burrs. I remember going to the cabin on the lake which was a hundred miles from home (lakes are scarce where I come from) and swimming half the day by the pier. All was well til one day I saw a dead fish float by me and I couldn't get out of the water fast enough. Ever since, I've had a phobia about being in water that I can't see through. It's clear pool water or nothing for me. Something about what's in that water with me that I can't see. Then there was the closet door in my room that my parents learned early on to make sure was closed before I went to bed. Ever notice that if you stare at clothes hanging in a almost dark closet that the clothes start to move? Just a trick my eyes played on me, but I believed it back then. Well, so much for the little trip back in time. Funny what little things stick with you the rest of your life, huh?

All my life, I had struggled thru.. never really satisfied with much of what I did and feeling like I just didn't matter that much. Then Sugar Bear came along. Where did he come from? I believe he was an answer to a lifelong silent prayer. Having someone like him is a once in a lifetime thing and makes me believe that I did, after all, do something right in my life and he is my reward. How else can I explain it? He completes my life like no one else ever has or ever will. He's the perfect combination of zany, but very loving. He can make me laugh til I hurt, genuinely listen to anything I have to say with interest, and suffer my bad moods with no complaint. He's the best snuggler alive. He wakes me with a hot cup of coffee every morning, sends me roses and writes me poems. I love the sight of him, the feel of him and the smell of him. His smile melts me to a puddle and he has the best butt in the world (ooo la la!). He not only lets me be me, but loves me for it. And I love him too...deeply...just as he is. I've been observing people all my life and only observed a few couples that had that special "something"...and wondered...how do they do that? Where does it come from? I don't wonder any more, and yes, I had to have done something right.

My husband's words one evening four years ago as he walked in the door and saw a four-legged white thing with a really bad hair cut and no eyes. Actually it had eyes, they were just completely masked in white hair. And hair was all you could say about it, except that it did in fact have four legs. "It" was the result of my answering a newspaper ad that stated: free to good home, adult male poodle. Well, we were looking for an adult dog because I didn't think I had time to deal with house training, so I checked it out. Following directions from the person on the phone, I found myself at the city water plant. The lady working there had found "it" on the highway and couldn't find an owner. She loved "it", but couldn't give it a home herself. Well, I was greeted by this dirty white shaggy mess of a dog that came right to me and I liked immediately. He just looked like a "Buster". So, I loaded up this shaggy mess and took him home. After a much needed bath and tick removal, I proceeded to hold him down and cut all the matted up hair off, which was about half of it. Then he needed another bath because he still smelled pretty bad. After that was when hubby came home and wanted to know what the "h" it was. I told him it was Buster, his new dog. Well, he wasn't impressed, but I pressed on. I took him to the vet the next day for shots and a once-over. Doc immediately said he was a Miniature Schnauzer, which I was having a hard time seeing, but I pretty much knew we weren't dealing with a poodle. Off to the groomer the next day and she also said he was a Schnauzer. A couple of hours later when I went to pick him up, I was in total shock! Where was that white mess I brought in? Here was this beautiful snow white (sure enough) Schnauzer. Now it's hard to remember life before Buster and after we'd had him for three years, we decided to get a couple of females for him. Now we have six adult Schnauzers and have sold 28 beautiful little Schnauzer puppies. I will try to learn how to download Buster's picture on this blog in the near future. He has certainly changed our lives and we love him dearly. He's our little buddy.