Where Did Runt Come From

     Up until six years ago I had lived in the Twin Cities, (I'm definitely a city girl). Had somebody told me I would be trading my life in the city to life in the country, I never would have believed it. Now here I am, living in the country. The lifestyle change took some getting use to, I actually think I am still adjusting. I definitely miss the constant activity and sounds of the city.
     The quiet here is nice, but sometimes quiet can be too quiet, and that is something else I am still adjusting to. But it is something I am learning to appreciate and it has taught me to pursue things I may not have done at another time.
     I have always been interested in writing, but never dared pursue that path. In the midst of the quietness I was inspired to begin writing and for that I am thankful. Would I have begun writing had I continued my busy 'city' life? Perhaps, but probably not.
     I was born with a very active imagination: Characters and story lines were constantly flowing through my mind. One character would make reoccurring visits, but then disappear for a time. While enjoying long, quiet walks in my new environment, this same character, a tiny puppy, began appearing on a daily basis. When I realized he was here to stay, I figured I had better do something with this little guy.
     I decided I should let this puppy out and give him space to roam free on paper. Thus was the beginning of Runt, and also the beginning of my writing career.
     At the very beginning of our journey together, it was decided between the puppy and myself that he would be called Runt.
     Thus far, I have two published books: the first, aptly titled, 'A Puppy Called Runt', and the sequel titled, 'A New Life for Runt'.
     I frequently am asked the question, "Is the puppy on your book covers your dog and is the story based on your dog?"  The answer is yes and no. Yes the puppy on the covers was once a dog of mine, but no the story is not about him. I used  those particular pictures for the simple reason that they resembled my image of the character that was now running loose on paper.
     Runt and I have been sharing quite an incredible adventure together through our books. A journey that was only possible because I listened to and believed in the little character that had been in my head and heart for so many years.

     So long, I'll see you soon!
   
    

Angel

     I believe in angels. I have had too many instances in my life for me not to believe. Guardian Angels are just as the name implies: they guard us, protect us, and give us guidance and advise in difficult times. They come to us in many unexpected ways. Sometimes they arrive without us being aware they are with us. Other times they arrive in disguise to do their work. I would like to share with you one visit I had from my 'Angel'.
     My dog, Willie, was 15 and his health was declining rapidly. I knew that soon I would have to make the decision of having to put him down. But how could I do that to my faithful companion. I needed help.
     My husband at that time and myself went to a local restaurant one afternoon. Sitting at the bar, we were quietly discussing what I should do. A short time after I made the comment that I needed help with this decision, a man entered the room and sat directly across the bar from me.
     Having not heard any of our conversation, the man began talking to me about dogs and soon my dog in particular. He said things like: 15 years is a long life for a mixed breed dog; he's had a very good life with you; it's a tough decision but it's time to let him go. With every word this man said, his eyes were focused on me. A chill went through me as we talked; how could this stranger possibly know all of these things.
     As we chatted a bit about other things we offered to buy him another drink. Staring intently into my eyes, he stood and said, "No thank you. I'll be going now, I've done what I came to do. Good luck with your decision." As he disappeared through the door, I knew instantly who I had been talking with. This was my Guardian Angel, and I knew exactly who the angel was...
     Thanks Mom for your guidance.

     So long, I'll see you soon.

Tick Tock

     Our furry friends quickly learn the daily routines of their beloved two-legger companions. I believe our dogs have an inner clock that senses the time these routines should occur. But can they tell time? Hmm...seems a bit improbable, but how do we know for sure.
     As dog owners we all talk to our dogs, and I am no exception. In fact, I have always talked to my dogs as if I were talking to another human. Whenever I have to leave the house without my dog I say things like: "I have to leave for awhile, but I'll be back later." or "I have to go to work, so I'll see you tonight." or for quick trips, "I'll be right back." I'd be willing to bet we've all said similar words at one time or another. Am I right? Come on, you can admit it.
     Why do we say these words? I know why I do: I truly believe dogs have a sense of time. I've seen evidence of this too many times for it not to be true.
     When I was young two of my friends, Karen and Paulette, each had a dog: Zippy and Charcoal. Everyday when we came home from school, there at our bus stop sat both dogs, waiting eagerly for the school bus doors to open. Like clockwork, the same time everyday.
      My dog, Willie, is another example of the time sense. Willie would follow me around in the morning and as soon as I put the work clothes on he would throw his head back in a very perturbed way and march off to the bedroom. By the clothes I had put on he knew it was going to be a long lonely day. I would arrive back home about 5:00 and there would be Willie sitting at his spot at the window, faithfully waiting to spot my car pulling in the driveway.
     Move ahead now to current time with our dog Whitney. I arrive home around 6:30; at 6:20 Whitney either sits on the couch and watches the driveway or sits at the kitchen door and patiently waits for me. Next month I'll be coming home an hour later, so Whitney's inner clock will need a little readjusting. I'm confident that she'll have it readjusted very quickly.
     These are just a few examples, but do you see the pattern? Dogs do indeed have a sense of time. So here's the question again: can they actually tell time? Now, if I were to see a dog running around wearing a wrist watch on its leg, I guess that would help me decide. But...
     A few years ago, Scooter (a relatives dog), was staying with us. We were told that Scooter eats his supper at 5:00. Not paying attention to the time, I walked into the kitchen about 5:30 and found Scooter staring intently at the clock on the stove. When he realized I was in the room he turned his gaze on me, then to his empty dish, then back to me, and finally back to the clock. What I heard when I looked into his eyes was, "You're late! I eat promptly at 5:00!"
     Tick tock, tick tock; can they actually tell time?  Hmm...I may have to readjust my thinking on that.

     So long, I'll see you soon.

I Now Understand Why

     I didn't mention a word about getting another dog. Why didn't dad want another dog? I knew better than to keep asking him. Growing impatient, I secretly decided to take matters into my own hands. I told no one what I was planning, not even my brother.
     A boy who lived up the street in the old 'Green House', informed me that their dog had puppies and if I wanted one I could have one, for free!  Dad had said dogs were too expensive; this one was free, so he would have to say yes. (Who knew that no puppy is free; sure you may get it for free but it's all the expenses that come later that quickly add up. But how could a kid possibly understand that.)
     I placed a towel in the basket of my bike and pedaled to the 'Green House' to claim my new puppy. After picking out the puppy that was just perfect for me, I placed her in my basket and pedaled on home.
     Mom was standing at the back steps when I came up the driveway and immediately saw what was in my basket. I parked my bike and put my new friend into arms. Mom stood shaking her head as I excitedly said, "Isn't she pretty? She was free and she's all mine." (I still thought 'free' would be the magic word.)
     Still shaking her head, but trying her best to look stern and not laugh, Mom said, "Did you forget that your dad said no more dogs? He's never going to let you keep her. You should bring her back now." Of course my answer was 'no'. In my head I was already plotting how to convince dad.
     When dad came home and saw what I was holding, of course he said no. With tears in my eyes, I begged and pleaded and also promised to do all the cleanup in the yard.
     Can you guess what happened? We named her Tammy and she was in our family for many years. Tammy quickly won dad over and within the first week dad had built Tammy her very own bed.
     After Tammy passed on, dad again said, "No more dogs, ever!" It was obvious that dad loved dogs. So I never could understand whenever we were 'dogless', why dad always said the same thing, "No more dogs."
     When I became older and wiser, the answer became obvious to me, Dad's reasons were just excuses to cover the truth: the pain of losing a dog he cared so much for was too much for him to bear.
     As an adult, having had my dog, Willie for 15 years, I had to make the awful decision of having him put down. The pain I felt at losing my beloved companion was unbearable. I found myself saying that I would never put myself through that pain again. The solution: no more dogs.
     Dad's words echoed in my mind as I was now repeating the same words.
     I now understand why, Dad.

     So long, I'll see you soon!
    


    

I Never Understood Why

     I was a young girl when we had our dog, Sandy. Sandy was totally devoted to and protective of my mother; always keeping a watchful eye on her. Get too close to mom and you might get snapped at, something that I personally found to be true on more than one occasion. Even with this 'issue' he was a great family dog. I guess every dog has their alpha in their family and for Sandy that was mom.
     My brother and I spent a lot of time playing with Sandy, eventually there came a time when he began to play less and less and got a bit more snappy.
     To my surprise, one morning I was told by my mom that I was to go to Karen's (my next door neighbor and best friend). On Saturday mornings I always had some assigned chore I had to do before I could go out to play. On that particular morning, I was told to go play. No chores? I didn't need to be told twice on that. I don't even know if my feet touched the ground as I flew out the door and raced to Karen's house.
     After being at Karen's for only a short time, I looked through a window at the same moment that my dad was carrying Sandy to his car. Puzzled by what I had observed, I hurried home and found my mom in tears. I asked where dad had taken Sandy and mom explained that Sandy was sick and needed to go to the doctor. I wasn't too worried, because from my own experience if you are sick, you go to the doctor and then come home.
     Sitting at the living room window, I waited anxiously for dad to return with Sandy. When I saw dad's car, I hurried to the kitchen to greet Sandy with a big hug. As dad walked in I peeked around his legs, expecting to see Sandy following behind, wagging his tail. But there was no Sandy. With tears in his eyes, dad knelt down and put his arms around me, and explained that Sandy was very sick and would not be coming home.
     Being that I was just a kid I didn't understand this, so everyday I would tell dad that it was time for us to bring Sandy back home. After sometime went by I asked my mom when we would get another dog. Mom's only reply was, "Your dad doesn't want another dog."
     Each time I posed this question I received the same answer. Whenever I would ask my dad why, his reply was always, "A dog is too expensive and requires too much work. So no more dogs."
     I knew dad loved dogs, so I could never understand why he always firmly said "no".
     We'll just have to see about that....

     So long, I'll see you soon!

It's Back

     This is not at all what I had planned to write about today, but how could I resist. My first look out the window this morning said it all, winter had returned. There is a lot more snow than the predicted couple of inches.
     Snow, cold wind, drifting snow. This is mid April, isn't it? I know this is Minnesota, but even by Minnesota standards this is ridiculous.
     What does a day like today do to a dogs seasonal inner clock? Spring today, take a nap and winter is back. Whether they like it or not, they know that it is what it is.
     It was out of sheer necessity that Whitney braved the elements this morning. She was out there no longer than it took her to do her business. Whitney has a very unique, quite comical walk when she steps on snow or wet grass. I call it her Princess Girlie-girl walk: slow, well thought out, light dainty steps. I'm sure her thoughts are, "If I walk lightly, I might come out of this with dry feet."  Really though, if something catches her attention that is worth barking about, she shelves her 'Princess' attitude and plods through the deepest snow in her race to the fence.
     When the snow stopped, Whitney and I took a walk up our road to the mailbox. Tire tracks through the snow had made a path, and that path was now mud. If there is something Whitney dislikes more than snow, it's mud. As soon as one paw touched the mud, she quickly opted to walk in the snow.
     Earlier in the morning our friend Tucker was out for is morning walk. Tucker walks tall and proud, very stately. I know Tucker has been anxiously awaiting his first of the season jump in the lake. I watched as he walked through the deepest snow he could find, and enjoying every second of each step. I realized he could care less about the abrupt season change. I guess he understands that this is just a temporary delay to the start of his swimming season. I need to take a lesson from you, Tuck. I need to learn to be calm and patient when these spring setbacks happen.
     News flash to our little 'Princess', when the snow melts there is going to be mud, lots and lots of it.

     So long, I'll see you soon!

I Think it was Spring

     Whoa, spring had finally arrived, or so I foolishly thought, or maybe it was just a dream. I thought it was here for a couple days this week, boy was I wrong on that. I had heard that we were to get snow today, but I refused to believe such nonsense. Looking out the window a few hours ago, it was back--snow! The grass that was greening up is white again. With the possibility of getting a couple inches by morning, I'm not liking this one bit, and I know one dog that isn't liking it either--Whitney.
     Arriving home from work today I was greeted in the driveway by neighbor dog Stanley. Stanley appears everyday, anxiously awaiting his playtime with Whitney. Up the steps to the door I went, with Stanley right on my heels. No wait a minute, actually Stanley was at the door before I had my foot on the first step. By the time I reached the deck door Whitney was jumping up and down at the door from the inside saying, 'Let me out, let me out." Stanley was jumping on the outside, saying, "Let me in, let me in."
     When the happy greetings were over, both dogs went outside to play. Soon they wanted in for their treats.Knowing how these two operate together, I knew they would soon want to be back outside.
     Okay, time to go back outside and now the snow has begun. You have to understand that whenever these two step outside together, Stanley sticks to Whitney like glue. When the first snowflake touched Whitney's nose she immediately halted and began to back up. Stanley was still moving forward and nearly tumbled down the slippery steps when he realized Whitney was not at his side. Stanley proceeded to joyously romp in the wet snow. Whitney, who does not enjoy getting her feet wet, was just as joyous inside the house with dry feet.
     Sorry to tell you this, Whitney, but I have a feeling you'll have wet feet for the next couple days.

     So long, I'll see you soon!

A Dogs Vision

     I apologize for missing the last couple days. I have been having a very troublesome eye problem  that caused being at the computer very difficult. Our vision is a precious gift to us that we take for granted; never fully realizing how precious that gift is until we experience a problem.
     With the problem I have been dealing with this past week, it made me ask myself the question: what do our dogs think when they begin to have problems with their vision? When we 'two-leggers' have a problem with our vision we visit an eye doctor, explain our problem, and usually something can be done to help with our problem. But for our four-legged companions they are not able to vocalize to us if they are having vision problems. We probably eventually are able to notice that our friend may not be seeing as well as they use to. When we look into their eyes, at times we can see a sadness; I feel that is when they are telling us something just isn't right.
     Our very dear friends have a dog named, Tucker. I guess you could say that Tucker is now a senior citizen. Along with this 'title' comes the natural aging symptoms: diminished hearing, vision changes, and maybe even some arthritis.
      Tucker's arthritis is helped with some medication, and once the ice is out on the lake his 'fishing' helps ease the arthritis discomfort throughout the summer months. As far as I am aware. there is nothing available to help our companions with the other aging symptoms. Wouldn't it be wonderful if, soon, there would be something available to help our four-leggers with the vision and hearing difficulties.
      We have been fortunate to have the honor of 'dog sitting' Tucker when his owners need to travel. It truly is a joy to have the privilege of having him stay with us. (I have to say a huge 'thank you' to his owners for allowing us to take care of their precious companion whenever the need arises.)
      On a humorous note, a couple of winters ago we enclosed our deck with a very heavy plastic--you were able to see through it, but everything seemed distorted and blurry. Tucker was staying with us for a few days. When he steps outside onto the deck his normal habit is always: he surveys the yard for a few minutes by peering between the deck posts. Now, though, he is looking through the plastic and things are looking a little confusing to him. I watched as he blinked his eyes several times, gave his head a couple shakes, and then gave me a look that said, "I could see just fine a minute ago, what the heck happened to my eyes." He quickly figured out that if he took a few extra steps to the doorway and hurried down the stairs, avoiding looking through the plastic, his vision was perfect.
     How unfortunate the aging vision can't be fixed simply by taking a few extra steps.
    
     So long, I'll see you soon!

Evoking a Memory

     I've realized while writing my blogs that they evoke memories of things long forgotten. One question I pondered as my mind was filled with memories: Where did my love of dogs and my connection with them come from?
     The answer came quite quickly: My love of dogs began when I was very young and I'm sure my mother planted the seeds for this love.
     My mom and dad's first dog was Blacky. I was a baby at the time, so I don't personally remember Blacky, but, at my insistence, my mom retold the story of finding him countless times to me.
     Blacky ended up in our household literally by accident. My mom heard a yelp, ran up the street, and found a black dog lying alone and hurt in the street. Without hesitation she gently placed the dog in her arms and rushed home with him. She cleaned that stray's wounds and nursed him back to health as if the dog had always been hers. I remember mom telling me, "Treat a dog with love, kindness, and respect and you will forever have a loyal friend."
     I don't recall what eventually happened to Blacky, but I do know that he was deeply loved while he was in our household.
     The first dog that I have a real memory of was our dog, Sandy. Sandy was an abandoned dog that showed up on our doorstep one day. My mom, never one to turn a dog away, welcomed him into our home.
     Back that many years ago our city was still 'country', so there were no leash laws. Sandy's favorite pastime  was chasing cars. He would lie in the grass at the side of the road and wait for a car to come down the road; out he would jump, barking and running alongside the car. As much as mom would try, she couldn't break him of this.
     Eventually he too, was hit. Mom now had to tend to another wounded dog. In time he healed, and he seemed to be a changed dog; deciding entirely on his own that his car chasing days were a thing of the past.
     Even at my young age I was aware of the love between mom and Sandy. I'm sure mom had no idea what a valuable lesson in the love between a human and dog her daughter was absorbing.
     Mom, I am forever grateful for planting the seeds in me for my lifelong love of dogs. The many dogs that have been in my life over the years are thankful, too.

     So long, I'll see you soon!

Whitney Visits the Vet

    Today was the big day: Whitney's first visit to the vet with us. Whitney will be six in June, so she has had visits to a vet prior to us owning her. She has lived with us since Dec. 2009, and today was our first adventure together as a family, to a new vet.
    Before we went on this new adventure we had a little prep work to do. Whitney is a miniature poodle, with black curly hair. Just before we got her, she had visited the 'Doggie Parlor' and was given the typical poodle cut. Temperature wise that was a very brutal winter, and she was cold and uncomfortable every time she went out to do her business; so for the next few months we let her hair grow out. When spring came we both agreed that the typical poodle cut was not our 'style'. Don't misunderstand, the poodle cut is very nice, but it's just not the cut for our Whitney. Knowing that she needed short hair for the upcoming hot months, we decided we would do the trimming ourselves. Neither of us had any experience in this field, so it was a 'learn as you go' time for us. (Actually, DJ does the trimming and I do the holding.) The first trim turned out pretty good and DJ has improved her skills with each trimming. 
    This past winter we decided to let Whitney have a nice coat to help her tolerate the cold trips outside. As the winter moved along and her hair grew, it was hard to tell she was even a poodle; at times she reminded me of a fat woolly lamb. Quite adorable, I should say.
    Okay, on to the prep work; Spring has finally arrived, its warming up, and it's time to rid Whitney of her heavy coat. Better have her new spring 'do' before we go to the vet. When I came home Thursday evening, there was Whitney with her new spring 'do'. She was wiggling with excitement as she welcomed me home. I looked in her eyes and heard, "Look at me Mom, isn't this just the coolest cut ever?" The woolly lamb look is gone, and the short haired little Whitney has returned.
    Friday and it's time for our trip to the vet. As we venture down the long driveway to the clinic, the car windows are down a bit, just enough where Whitney's nose begins to twitch as she picks up some scents. The closer we get to the clinic her little body begins to quiver. Having never been here before, the smells must have triggered a memory that screamed Doctor.
    She showed no fear as she marched into the clinic. The Dr. and his staff were kind and gentle with Whitney, which helped with any anxiety she may have been having. She was a brave little trooper through it all.
    Whitney loves her treats, say the word and she's there. When the Dr. offered her a treat, she looked away, with her nose in the air, as if she were saying, "You've got to be kidding, I just want out of this place."
    Doctor visit over, and enjoying being back in the safety of her home.

     So long, I'll see you soon!
    

Goldie The Stuffed Toy

    Even though we are now all adults, I would bet you can still remember a favorite doll or stuffed animal you received as a child, right? I would guess that you can still remember who that special someone was that gave you that gift, right again?
    I was very, very sick with scarlet fever, quarantined and the whole bit. On my worst day my Grandpa, whom we all called Popop, came to our home and sat by my bedside. As contagious as I was, Popop never left my side that day and well into the night. Every time I awoke he was in his chair, next to my bed, and holding my hand. I adored that man.
    The next day when he returned I was a bit more coherent; the first thing he did was place a stuffed toy dog next to my pillow. I clutched onto that dog and I'm sure I didn't let go of it for days. To this day I still can recall every feature of that dog. It wasn't a big stuffed dog, it was just the perfect size for my small hands. His head and round rolled tail were gold in color; so I named him Goldie. A pretty original name, wouldn't you agree?
    Goldie was my bedtime companion for many years. Oh how I cherished that toy dog. My neighbor, and best friend, said his tail looked like a doughnut. Against my protests, and probably some tears on my part, she would always call, my Goldie, 'Doughnut Tail'. Ask my friend today and she would still remember the story of Goldie.
    Some years later we had gotten a new dog Missy. For about the first year of her life, Missy was a chewer. Just about anything at her level was, in her opinion, fair game for her teeth. I'll discuss her antics in a future post; for now, we'll stick to the matter at hand, Goldie.
    Hurrying into my bedroom one afternoon after school, there was Missy napping on the foot of my bed. Just inches away was my beloved Goldie--now a faceless Goldie. Pieces of its face were scattered across the bed. As I screamed and cried, Missy's eyes looked from me, then to what was left of Goldie, and then back to me. What I saw in those eyes of hers was, "What? You can't possibly think I did that? I would never do such a thing."
    Do you, for one second, think I believed her?

     So long, I'll see you soon!

When a 'two-legger' is ill

    I had planned on writing on this topic at some point, but when I awoke this morning I knew this was the appropriate time.
    I am sure everyone reading this will agree with me when I say, none of us 'two-leggers' enjoys being sick. This morning both my partner and myself woke up with a nasty cold, flu bug. I had gotten up a few times during the night and wandered around the house. Each time I got up our dog, Whitney, stayed right in step with me, keeping a very watchful eye on me. When I crawled back into bed, before my head had even touched my pillow, she was on the bed and snuggled as close to me as she could get.
    Today, with both of her 'two-legger' companions sick, you could see she was torn between which of us she should stay by. I must say her decisions were right on about which of us needed her when. Watching a movie together on the couch, Whitney was between us, touching each of us with some part of her body at all times. At one point I dozed off and when I awoke Whitney was curled up in a little ball on my lap. Now that's loyalty! I do think though, if someone had yelled out the word 'Cheese', she would have flew off my lap and hurried to the kitchen. You have to understand, she likes cheese; that's very important stuff to her.So that one word might have distracted her from her duties--but for just a brief moment.
    I have always been amazed at our four-legger companions ability to sense when something is just not right with us: whether we're sick, emotionally upset, or just had an all around bad day.Without fail they always know when we need some extra comfort and love, and they are by our side to give us both. This is when you look into their eyes and hear, "I want to take all your hurt away, because I love you." With no hesitation our loyal dogs are willing to stay close until their 'two-legger' companion is back to normal.

    So long, I'll see you soon!

Springtime and the wood-tick

   The snow was finally beginning to melt and patches of grass were starting to peek through the melting snow, a sure sign that spring had finally arrived, right? Yesterday, though, Mother Nature played a cruel April fool's day prank on us by depositing another three inches of snow upon us. Even our dog, Whitney, was in shock when she stepped onto the deck in the morning. She gave me the look with her eyes that said, "Not again!" The new snow was gone by afternoon, but I have heard a nasty rumor that more snow may be in the works for tomorrow. Snow dancers, please make it stop. It's spring!
   As the snow does begin to melt, I'm seeing reminders of all the dog 'presents' that have been left in the yard and repeatedly buried with each snowfall. There is no avoiding it now: the cleanup job must begin.
   With spring also comes the on rush of the dreaded wood-ticks. Yuk! Even though the ticks are with us year round, spring brings the scary, creepy things out by the tens of thousands. No one warned me when we moved to this area that we had entered the 'Wood-tick and deer-tick' capital of Minnesota.
   It's been said that every living thing has a purpose, but come on now what purpose could these nasty,disease carrying ticks possibly have. If someone has an answer to that please let a fearful person, like myself, know.
   With the full blown tick season already upon us, it's time to start Whitney's tick preventive treatment. I'm truly amazed at how effective this treatment is at killing not only the ticks but also the fleas. I totally freak out when a live one occasionally falls off of her in the house. I guess living in this area it is to be expected, but that doesn't make it any easier for me to handle my fear. It's really too bad there isn't something we 'two-leggers' can drop on us for the same effect.
   After treating Whitney, she shakes her head, walks around with a disgusted look on her face for a brief time, and then comes back and sits by us. I look into her eyes and hear, "I don't know what you just did to me, but I know you must have had a good reason for doing it, so thanks Mom."
   Next week we'll have our first visit to the Vet with our girl. We'll see if that goes as easy.

      So long, I'll see you soon!

That special connection

   Welcome to my first blog. I had read that each author should have a blog. I was hesitant at first because this was an unknown place for me. After much urging and help from my son, I finally decided to enter the 'blogosphere'. So here we go...
   I love dogs, a simple statement, but it means so much. I am very fortunate for having been raised in a household where you always heard the click, click sound of a dogs paws walking through the house; where I was greeted each time I came home with a wet slurppy kiss; where I could wake up in the middle of the night and hear the soft breathing of my faithful companion asleep by my side; where no matter what else happened I knew I always had my best friend by my side.  
   At a very young age I became aware that I shared a special connection with dogs and that we were able to communicate with each other. With each dog I have owned I would carry on conversations with them; and through their eyes I was able to 'hear' what they were saying to me. I remember many times my mother would say, "The way you understand that dog, I swear you must have been a dog in a past life."
   Perhaps that's true, or just maybe it's my strong belief that our canine companions have so much they want to share with their human companions, or as they like to refer to us as, the 'two-leggers'.
   The next time you look into your dog's eyes let your imagination roam free and wonder....

           So long, I'll see you soon!