Laurel Hunt Books

One of the traditions we look forward to is the annual pet and golf cart parade, part of the July 4th festivities in the community where our mountain cabin is located. The theme this year was “green,” and golf carts (and a few dogs) were decorated with recycling themes. Everyone parades past the clubhouse, and judges vote on the best designs. All the dogs, including Alex, were well-behaved and seemed to enjoy this unusual parade!

Alex watches the parade

Here is a fun contest for a holiday weekend. The Bark is hosting a photo contest sponsored by West Paw Design (makers of eco-friendly dog beds, crate mats, apparel, and toys) for pictures of dozing dogs. Photos are posted on Facebook where you can vote for your favorite. Winner receives a dog bed! Napping is one of Alex’s favorite sports, so here are some pictures of him snoozing. Which one do you think I should submit?

Dozing off

Sleeping with toy

Curled up

Alex and his brothers napping

Paws on Parade

This past weekend Alex and I participated in the annual “Paws on Parade” walk-a-thon to raise funds for our local pet therapy organization, Paws with a Purpose. The event is held in a park that has a lovely trail winding through the trees, next to the river, and always attracts a good turnout of dogs and their humans. As we parked and got out of the car, I could see that Alex was not eager to join the assembled group, so instead of his usual flexi-leash, I put his slip lead on, as he’s been known to try to back out of his collar if spooked by something. I allowed him plenty of time to check out the scene and the other dogs, though he clearly did not want to be part of the party! As the walk got underway, we were joined by a group of children from a local agency that offers residential and other counseling services for children in the foster system. The pet therapy dogs serve this agency with visits to teach “life skills” such as respect, teamwork, and personal responsibility, and have been a very popular and effective addition to the curriculum.

A group of the kids from this agency began walking with one of the pet therapy volunteers. She had brought both of her dogs that day, two friendly and goofy goldendoodles, and as the parade made its way through the park, the children took turns holding the dogs’ leashes. Alex and I were walking just ahead of this group, and I was glad that he was finally relaxing and ignoring the dogs, joggers, bicyclists, and walkers we encountered along the path. Then a small boy, part of the group walking behind us, ran up along side me and asked eagerly, “Can I walk your dog?” (more…)

Mother and Winston

Although my children are of the canine persuasion, I have always loved Mother’s Day. Spring is in full bloom and it ushers in the lovely month of May. Since  moving back to be closer to my elderly parents (mom is 94) I have especially treasured each Mother’s Day. Today, we will celebrate it at our mountain cabin, though it will be a bit chilly to enjoy the deck. But Mother will settle herself in front of the fireplace with a glass of sherry, and all will be right with the world.

They say “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” I owe my love of all creatures to both my parents, but especially my mother. One Sunday on our way to church she spotted a collie by the road. On our way home the collie was still there, so Mother stopped the car and coaxed her in. After diligent attempts to find her owner, Sheba became part of our family and spanned my childhood from about age 5 to age 14. The night she died, I was at a school dance, and it wasn’t until many years later I learned that Sheba had gone into acute heart failure and my father had euthanized her with morphine from his doctor bag. My sisters and I thought she had died in her sleep. The next dog, Sherry, saw us through our teenage years and helped Mother adjust to the empty nest as one by one, we left for college. When Sherry died, my parents never got another dog, but they enjoy visits from my dogs at their retirement community. Once, when I left Byron there for a brief time, I returned to find Byron and Mother sitting on the couch, watching a concert on TV. “He’s a high brow dog,” she pronounced. “He loves classical music.”  One year my father bought me a pot of daisies with a card from Byron and Emily, for Mother’s Day. I treasured that gift, and saved the card. And when Byron, and then Emily, died, my parents mourned with me.

This Mother’s Day, my brood consists of Alex, my welsh springer who will be two next month. Most of the puppy craziness is gone (sigh!) but he has become a lovely companion, following me everywhere as Springers do. I will burst with pride as he shows off his repertoire of tricks, “high five” and “high ten,” and I will make sure there is a good supply of treats in everyone’s pockets. Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers of the world, and may your children bring you much joy.

Where's my Easter basket?

After a winter of nearly continuous snow since before Christmas, this spring is particularly welcome! Sunshine, daffodils, and warm weather promise a perfect Easter Sunday. May it be filled with  spiritual renewal and thankfulness for the love and blessings that pets bring into our lives.

At Alex’s annual checkup this week, the veterinarian recommended vaccinating him for dog influenza, a respiratory virus that spreads quickly among dogs in places such as daycare, boarding kennels, dog parks, or dog shows. The virus was first discovered among greyhounds at Florida dog tracks, and has since spread to 30 states. Symptoms include sudden lethargy, high fever and nasal discharge, and can lead to pneumonia. Although most dogs respond quickly to antibiotics, the virus can be fatal. The vaccine involves two shots, two to three weeks apart, with yearly booster. For more information, see the Centers for Disease Control http://www.cdc.gov/flu/canine/ or  www.doginfluenza.com.

A year ago today I brought Alex home. He was ten weeks old. The night before I picked him up, I could hardly sleep, wondering what I was getting into. But it’s been a wonderful experience to watch him grow up and see his personality develop. He’s turning into a wonderful companion. I’m thankful that he and Emily were together before she passed away in February. It feels like a passing of the torch. May we have many happy and healthy years together.

Alex on the deck

I’ve often said, “I need a vacation to recover from my vacation.” This morning Alex seems to be saying the same thing.

I know I'm not allowed on the bed

He must have played hard yesterday at doggie daycare, which he loves. When I put him in the car, he has no idea where we are headed. Maybe the tailgate market? the groomer? or, horrors, the vet? He settles into the back seat, usually curling up in a little ball. But he’s learned to recognize the route to the doggie daycare place. As we get closer, he sits up and looks around. Then he stands in the seat and circles, looking out all the windows to be sure. If we’re stopped at a light, I’m sure the other drivers are thinking, “what a wild and crazy dog,” as he bounces around the car, leaving nose prints on the windows.

As the daycare place is on a busy street, I park as close to the door as possible. I’ve taught him the “wait” command; otherwise he would bolt out of the car the minute I open the door. When I have the door open and leash firmly in hand, I say “Okay!” Alex dashes inside and up the stairs to the play area, without even a “Bye, Mom!” But I’m happy that he has this opportunity for play, socialization, and working out that puppy energy. A tired pup is a happy pup!

Alex and I are back from our summer vacations. Mine was a week in Maine, at a writing workshop. His was a week in Weaverville, NC at “Camp Airedales,” a beautiful home whose owner admits was “built for the dogs,” and is surrounded by acres of rolling fenced pastures to romp in with resident Airedales Pixi, a therapy dog and agility champion; Peach, a rescued Airedale, and Pubb, the elder statesman of the pack and therapy dog extraordinaire. I missed Alex, but Maine and the writing workshop were wonderful experiences. A week with twelve women writers, who by the end of the week had dubbed ourselves “the women weavers of Stonecoast,” as we shared poignant, painful, and sometimes humorous stories of our lives, woven into words on the page. Back at Camp Airedales, Alex was learning boundaries including electric fences, scat mats, and not throwing tantrums in the crate when confined. He also learned to use a doggie door, and had adventures hiking with the Airedales. In just a week, he seemed to grow up. It was a  memorable week for us both.

Alex is one year old today. It has been an amazing and wonderful experience to raise him; not always easy but also full of laughter and joy as we learn from each other. Here are a few photos of our first year together.

A very pregnant Momma Farina

Two weeks old - Alex at bottom right

Alex (far left) and his five brothers

Alex at 4 weeks old

I'm ready for my close-up

Alex and Emily

Alex loves the spring snow

Relaxing at the cabin, May 2009

I am grateful for Alex and the joy he brings. My birthday wish for him is for all dogs to have a forever home where they are safe and loved. Please join me in making a donation to your local shelter or rescue group, in honor or in memory of your beloved companion.

When I drop Alex at doggy daycare, there is a check-in sheet where I add his name, my signature, and the drop-off time. I’m always amused by the variety of dog names on the list, Alex’s playmates for the day. There’s Bodhi and Kosmo, who must be  wise old souls; Cricket and Frodo; Banjo and Echo; Axel, Cruiser, Diesel and Harley; Macgregor and Midnight; Sadie, Sasha, and Sunny; Sophie and Sweetpea; Roxy and Rosie; Nibbler, Brie and Gumbo; Chance and Cooper; Buddy, Chessie, Vixen and Zoe. There’s a story behind each name, I suspect. (more…)

We are spending Memorial Day weekend at our mountain cabin. After a rainy May, this area is finally out of the drought. The rhododendrons are spectacular this year; really vibrant shades of purple. Hummingbirds dart, zoom, and perform their aerial acrobatics around the feeder on the deck.  Alex spends hours by the window, watching them. He also loves to watch the chipmunks as they scurry over the rock walls. It keeps him entertained as I write.

Alex at the cabin