just ponderin'

… on complicated females

blaze

Clean up on Aisle Three!

HRH the Princess Bunny-Blaze (a.k.a., Blaze) is a complicated female.

She also has a very important job, and jobs are important for all German ShepHerds to have.

Blaze’s job, created by Blaze herself, involves making sure the Royal Household and Gardens are up to her standards at all times, and in all situations.

This involves carefully assessing, re-assessing, and re-re-assessing her surroundings constantly, and all the time.

Like, always.

Yesterday, she called me over to an item that she felt was out-of-place, in the side hallway.

Bigfoot.

Well, not ‘Bigfoot’ actually, but his Darwinian-ly modified cousin, the Yeti.

And by Darwinian-ly modified, I mean he is white and fluffy so as to blend into the Himalayan snow.

I am telling you, if it were winter here right now, there is no way you would even be able to see him in the photo above.

I texted First-Born Mac and Half-Kid Jack right away to tell them I found the Yeti, which belongs on the key chain for Pippin (their happenin’ Mini Cooper).  All was right with the world after that, and I put Yeti away (up high, because Marshal Dillon Dingle does his German ShepHerd job a bit differently and tends to eat that which he believes does not belong).

Blaze was happy again, and returned to her ongoing patrol.

Blaze is not my dog.  She is the dog of Self-Proclaimed Perfect Boy Gabe.  He chose her out of three, round and bumble-y puppies at my friend and breeder’s house.  She is one of the only puppies ever produced by HRH the Bunny (a.k.a., Brielle von Traumhof), my friend’s favorite dog, who is also a very complicated female (and the apple didn’t fall far from that tree).

I have another friend (yes, I have more than one!), and he is a professional writer, who has been writing about animals – including a lot about dogs – for decades now.  He is a big believer in the idea that we get the dogs we need, and – though he is a big proponent of carefully choosing a dog – he has said that sometimes the dog we need is not always the dog we think we are getting when we choose the dog.

It is an interesting theory, and one rattling around in my brain a lot these days, with so much happening, so many changes going on and about to go on.

gabe17

17 Candles in One Mini-Cupcake

Self-Proclaimed Perfect Boy Gabe turned 17 the other day.  We sang to him over a mini-cupcake with 17 teeny candles (yep, 17) stabbed into it (which made a kind of melty birthday torch), because – even with his broken foot – he is in training and is limiting his sugar intake. Yes. This is all true, and also quite funny.

He will be heading into his senior year of high school in the fall.

Barring any unforeseen circumstances, he will be my last child finishing up high school and heading off to college.

And I say ‘barring any unforeseen circumstances’ with a great deal of anxiety because my greatest fear used to be driving on bridges over water (or occasionally sea snakes (look them up!)) but now my greatest fear is hearing two, simple words: “You’re pregnant”.  But I digress.

So Gabe is headed into his senior year of high school.  Sam is heading into his senior year of college down in New Orleans and talking about graduate school as well as staying down there to work as a musician (we are so excited for him).  Mac and Jack (and Hippo and Miss Ali (the cats) are happy and settled, at least for now, in Connect-eh-cut).  And Granny, JoHn, and I are getting our heads, hearts, and a certain house-that-used-to-be-an-Inn ready for our move to Maine in a couple of years.

So things they are a’changin’.

And in the midst of all of this, there is this dog.

My last soul dog, ‘T’, has been gone for more than two years now. I still think about him sometimes. He taught me a lot about myself. I credit my time with him for bringing me to the writing I do now, for connecting to the creativity inside me.  He was… wait.  Because of all he was, and all the gifts he brought with him and left with me… he is very special to me.

I miss that feeling of connecting with a great dog, heart and more.

Blaze is not ‘mine’. I did not choose her.

And, yet, one day soon, her Boy will go off to college, and her world will change.  She will choose a different day-to-day human to work with (and on).

That human could be JoHn (though he is almost 100% taken by one Marshal Dillon Dingle).  It may be Granny (as with many good female ShepHerds, Blaze has major care-taking and companion capabilities).

Or she might choose me.

I do not force these things. I don’t think they can be forced.

So I’ve been eyeing Blaze with greater interest lately.

Sizing her up.

Wondering what she will need, what she might look to me for.

Wondering what I need, what she might want to show me.

Will you be my next soul dog, Blaze?

I wonder…

Thanks for readin’.

blaze

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Elena Peters

midlife blogger & pinterest master

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