A New Semester

A student once told me after a writing critique that she felt like she was on American Idol and I have to admit there is a little bit of that feeling for me each semester especially on the first night of class. Like American Idol's talent judges, I can't help but make some snap assessments based on first impressions. Often I am wrong, assuming that a student will be disinterested or their writing too pedantic, based solely on their appearance. I love it when I am wrong. I love giving them that first assignment -- tonight appropriately enough I asked them to write on first impressions -- and holding my breath in expectation as they read their first sentences. Sometimes inside I breathe as sigh of relief, sometimes I catch my breath excited at the promise and potential. I love seeing the students grow, listening as they develop and hone their voices. By the end, each of them will surprise me with stories I could not imagine on that first day. Tonight was the start of a new semester and these students did not disappoint. Their stories sing.

Well Loved

See the full gallery on Posterous

We've all heard the warnings about anthropomorphizing animals, but what about stuffed animals? Today, I found myself feeling sorry for one of my pug's stuffies. It seems that Waffles had gotten ahold of it and ripped out an eye and was now working on the second. My mother, the overly concerned pug Grandma, found out and insisted on removing the second eye, so her beloved pug-grandbaby wouldn't succeed in working on it and accidentally choke.

 

Mom's mutilation of the poor creature was probably worse than anything Waffles could have done to it, but in the end she pulled out a half-chewed eyeball, which  had a wet, gooey, fleshy feel even if it was plastic. The eyeless, stuffed dog looked sad, forlorn, blind.

"It used to look so cute. I feel sorry for it," my mother said.

I tried to console myself with the fact that it belonged to the pugs and they had a right to do with it as they pleased and this was the consequence, but then I got to thinking of the day I brought the fluffy dog home to Alfie. Since Vader wouldn't share his humpie doggie with her, she needed a stuffed dog of her own. Because she was only a puppy then, the little golden dog dwarfed her two times over. She loved to drag it around and shake it, but she never tried to eat its eyeballs. They say a dog's life is too short, but this poor stuffed dog's youth was even shorter -- blinded, stuffing pouring from its eye sockets, it didn't look well-loved, it looked abused. Then again, it kind of was.

Maybe we should have let nature take its course and not interfere. If Waffles had removed the eyeball herself, would the stuffed dog look less injured? Would it have worn the expression of a cherished toy instead of a decomposing zombie? Aren't dog toys intended to be torn apart, but by dogs not people?
This stuffed dog was not the first I worried over. As Vader's condition started to worsen, I often wondered what I would do with his humpie doggie. He had loved that stuffed animal his whole life -- playing with her, sleeping with her, even getting frisky with her. I thought of putting her on a shelf with his ashes, but I wondered if that was fair --stuffed dogs are meant to be loved and played with, not just sit abandoned on a shelf. The vet solved the problem by telling me that Humpie Doggie could be cremated with Vader, and she was. I know, now instead of sitting next to the ashes, she was ashes, but this seemed appropriate somehow. She and Vader were together, both had been loved.

Okay, I know, this is kind of pathetic. These are inanimate objects, I realize. I blame it on my Mom who read me too much Velveteen Rabbit  as a child. But, it is also she who taught me that love is love in all its varied forms and while these animals may only be made out of cloth and stuffing, they provide their flesh-and-blood counterparts with hours of pleasure and comfort and in some cases as with Vader and Humpie Doggie, something that closely resembles love.

They also say that love sees no wrong, so maybe Waffles and Alfie won't notice that their stuffie no longer has eyes. Maybe it doesn't matter that my Mom interfered. The fate of the dog was always the same. It was meant to be chewed and torn and to wear love's battlescars.

Avery and the Dog

The other day at the Shelburne Orchard, a beautiful dog was resting amidst the hay and children playing on a tree swing. Avery came upon him and the two bonded. Here is a slideshow of the encounter. The music is by Avery's Dad, my brother John.

medium.m4v Watch on Posterous

The Negotiator

While I tried to capture my nephew, Avery, in photos the other day, his older brother Raine made it clear that I would not be doing so with him. Ten, going on 16, as his mother says, Raine informed us that we would not be photographing him. I did, however, manage to snap an image or two, none of which do this beautiful boy justice.

Blonde and blue-eyed, Raine, is as smart as he is handsome, which he clearly illustrated while we were apple picking. He is also clearly a good businessman and negotiator. First, he finagled me into offering him $25 to take his photograph for one of my future collages. "I never have any boys in my collages," I complained. "Would you let me take a picture of you in a nice dress shirt and suspenders?"

"Would I get to keep the suspenders?" he asked.

"Yup!"

"Cool, I always wanted suspenders," he announced. "But how much would you pay me?"

"Pay you?"

"Yeah, you'd have to pay me!" he said.

"How much?"

"Twenty-five dollars and I might," he said. "And, I'd get to keep the suspenders!"

This negotiation concluded, I later found myself indebted to Raine again when I lost my sunglasses just before leaving the orchard. Raine and I went back to search for them while my sister-in-law remained in the car with the other two kids. After searching the rows of Gala apples where we had spent the most time, I sent Raine back to the Macs to see if I left them there. A few minutes later his long, jean-clad legs came charging out of the orchard followed by the rest of him; my glasses clenched in his fist. "They were hanging from a tree," he said.

"I owe you," I declared.

A half hour later we were eating pizza when Raine looked across the table. A killer smile slowly spread across his face. "How much do you owe me?"

"What?" I asked, grinning back. I knew where this was headed.

"For your glasses? How much do you owe me for finding your glasses."

"Um, I don't know," I laughed. I watched Raine's smile grow. He has the type of smile that just grows and spreads in Cheshire Cat fashion.

"You said they're prescription. Just think how much more you would have had to spend if I didn't find them," he argued. "Isn't it worth $15 or $20?"

Needless to say, when I returned home last night my wallet was $15 lighter. My nephew Raine may have an innocent face, but he knows how to seal a deal. He is a charmer and I'm not sure any of us are ready for when he is actually 16. Just think how much damage those blue eyes and Cheshire cat grin can do by then. Just imagine who else he will charm.

Community

One of the many wonderful aspects of owning dogs is the way they seem to connect us to each other. The other night while walking my two pugs down the street, a number of neighbors whom I have seldom, if ever, spoken to, came out of their homes and off their porches to meet Waffles. "I see you have another pug? Did you lose the old one?" one of them asked.

Another came over and asked, "What happened to Vader?" while she bent down to pet Waffles' head. "Hi, Alfie," she said. I didn't even know this woman knew my name, let alone my pugs'. Dogs help build community; they bridge gaps, making it easier for us to approach each other, to say hello.
I have many plans in store for this blog. I have finally found a design team that is working on creating a web site with my blog as the centerpiece. Tonight I received an email from friend, fellow blogger and artist, Maria Wulf, about a new giveaway concept a small group of us is hoping to launch next month on our blogs, and I am eagerly looking forward to sharing the details with you. One of my hopes is that this blog will expand the community that I am already finding with other artists, writers, bloggers and dog owners.

Last year at this time I was posting a photo or two, talking a little about my dogs, putting up a collage here and there. Then, I showed my collages at Maria's Pig Barn Gallery, joined her husband John Katz' writers' group. I met Nancy of Spinning Glass Studio at a show where Maria was also exhibiting and enjoyed a quiet afternoon bonding with them and another new friend, Jane McMillen of Little House Home Arts. We will all be participating in the giveaway in the hopes of sharing each other's work and blogs with our collective readers. Most importantly, to me, however, I am finding a creative community of friendship and support that is urging me forward and causing me to grow.
I think most dog owners would list the companionship their dogs provide as one of the reasons we love them. Many of us find that our love of dogs opens us up to new possibilities. That has certainly been the case for me, my creative life and this blog. It is not a coincidence that my pugs have been the focus of much of my photography, writing and art. Now they are helping lead me down a new street, where friends are coming off their porches, out of their homes and introducing themselves, helping form a community of which I am thankful to be a part.

Boys will Be Boys

It is easy for me to take pictures of my nieces, to enter their little girl worlds and catch a glimpse of the women they will become. It is harder with my nephews. Boys, even the quiet ones, are rarely still. And, their imaginations takes them to places that are foreign to me.
I went apple picking with two of my nephews, Raine and Avery, and my niece Tori this afternoon. My nephew Avery is a middle child and a pretty unique kid. He observes and has a great quiet smile that spreads into an amazing grin across his freckled face when he is amused. I often joke that he is an alien sent from another planet, reporting back to the mother ship, because there seems to be so much going on behind those mischievous blue eyes. But, he is still a boy and this is some of what I heard in the car ride to the orchard.

"I've never gone apple picking," I offered. "What if I find a worm in my apple."

"Pick it out and squish it," Avery offered.

"I can't. I"m scared of worms," I said.

"I'll take it out and stick it in my nose," he said.

Such a gallant offer. We drove a little further up I-89 and I told the kids to look out for the camel that you can sometimes see from the Interstate. I know, a camel in Vermont is an unique thing to see, but it didn't seem to phase my little alien.

"I want to buy a camel and if it is going to die I'll save its poop and keep it," Avery declared.

I wouldn't have thought of that keepsake myself.

At the orchard, my sister-in-law had to stop picking apples and leave Raine and Tori with me so she could take Avery to the port-a-potty. On the way home, he decided to share about the experience with the rest of us. "It was disgusting in there," he said. "There was a giant turd and all these flies and a dead fly on the turd. It was gross," he said with a big toothless smile. "The turd was gigantic and the fly was dead..."

A picture may be worth a thousand words, but it is hard with any picture of a boy to capture the thousand special thoughts that bounce around in their heads. It is a mysterious world that this girl may never quite understand, but I marvel at it.

Growing Up

Batman's siblings are growing up and beginning to reveal their personalities. Now that Batman is gone, Trump has taken his place as the little guy. His expression differs from his siblings. His head is smaller, more wrinkled. It gives him a peculiar appearance in contrast to the others' fluffy puppiness. He is not Batman, but he helps to fill a hole in our hearts. We all reach out to him for his uniqueness, a desire to embrace and protect the runt. He is more sullen, quiet. He is not a total loner, but he does hang back and watch his more active siblings, still they embrace him in a way they did not Batman, who was always too weak, too small to join in.

Margot, the girl, is going to New Jersey where she is to be renamed Katrinka. Joan sent another big girl there years ago, who bore that name. But, the owner changed the name of that girl to Scarlett. Scarlett lived a long pug life and bore several puppies before finally giving up the ghost. Our friend Bonnie now wants to honor her and Margot by giving her Scarlet's original name. Margot seems the perfect pup. She is adorable and playful. She jumps in to play, but is respectful of the other pups. She barks and nips, rolls and tumbles, but is not aggressive. When confronted by an elder, she backs down, but she shows no fear and comes back for more. She will make Bonnie a good dog.

Argo Kensington is the quintessential middle child. He is handsome and becoming more so every day, although not as big as his big brother or as distinct as his little brother. He is always part of the pack and I'm sure he will blossom when on his own. Each day his little white toes become less white. One day it may be hard to remember that we first called him Twinkletoes because of those tiny splashes of white.

Gryffindoor is a big, fat, baby. He rolls on his back for a belly rub, runs and hides under the table to avoid a conflict. He's a lover not a fighter, but oh what a big, pretty boy.

It's hard to believe that in a few more weeks, most will be gone to new homes. We will keep track of them. I send Christmas letters out to each family, but they will get new names, new families. That is a good thing. It is nice to know that each will be given this gift, but a house without puppies is significantly more quiet, more empty than one with them.

Each litter always leaves an imprint, memories of the time when they belonged solely to Pugdom. Because of the impact Batman made on all of us, this litter will haunt us long after they leave. The ghost of his memory lives alongside his healthy, happy siblings. It is not a shadow that lingers, but a warm glow. The remaining puppies play and grow big -- alive, they are part of this world. And, we laugh and enjoy them and begin our happy goodbyes as we find them new homes. Batman belongs to another world -- we hold him in our hearts and we smile when we think of him and we laugh at the joy each puppy brings for however long they are among us.

See the full gallery on Posterous

Waffles

Pug lore says that female's are more high-strung than males and that black pug females are the biggest divas of all. I'm not sure if I would describe Waffles as high-strung or a diva, but she is different. She is my first black female. Vader, was my only other black pug and he was a male and a very laid-back, gentleman. Buffy, my first fawn female, was high-strung, Mira, my next fawn was a floppy, happy-go-lucky girl, and Alfie is outwardly confident, inwardly nervous. Waffles, well, Joan, her breeder says, "she is her own person." And, that about covers it.

 
Waffles has a bit of an independent streak, but not in a standoffish way. She actually stays pretty close to me, but you can see her mind working and there seems to be a lot going on in there. I'm just not sure what it is. Alfie, I can read better -- she thinks of food and attention. Waffles likes attention, but she seems to be in search of something that I can't discern.

There is something almost catlike about her. Again, she is not aloof, but she has the alien allure of a feline. She is her own person, but she is beginning to fit in. I think she is making herself at home.

Angels & Animal Expo

The name should have said it all "Angels & Animals" Expo. But I have to admit I didn't pay much attention to what it was called. I simply read the sign outside my vet's and saw that there was an event this Saturday that I could attend with the dogs.

It was at a local assisted-living facility, so I loaded the pugs in the car this afternoon and headed off. When we got to the facility the parking was well marked but the entrance was not, so I circled and circled, looking for a door. When I found one it turned out it was the main entrance to the facility and not the site of the expo, which was downstairs. I met a lot of seniors who seemed to delight in the pugs. Many shared stories of pugs they had known or asked to pet them and all commented on how dressed up they were in their fancy harnesses.

Wow, it might be fun to try therapy dog work I thought, but my two would have to pass the canine good citizen's test and I've never been sure we could do that. Still, all three of us relished the excitement of the residents. We made it downstairs and upon exiting the elevator found ourselves smack dab in the strangest array of silent auction items. I say strange because few had to actually do with animals. We walked down the hall where the police were doing a demonstration with their drug detecting K-9 dog, so I kept the pugs away from the activity to not detract from the demonstration. This was easier said then done as everyone kept coming over to pet the pugs. They seemed more nervous and excited than usual, like they weren't sure what we were doing there and kept barking at passersby. A woman came over and warned us that there was some concern about the police dog with other dogs, so I brought my two back outside. I was wondering if I should return. I hadn't seen any other dogs downstairs and I really  hadn't seen much happening. My brother is a police officer so I have seen the K-9 demonstration on more than one occasion, but then I figured we had come all that way so we might as well go back in and check things out.

This time when we returned, the police were gone but the room across the fall was filled with people watching a raptor demonstration. It seems the Vermont Institute of Natural Science (VINS) was on-hand and as we passed by we were warned again "No dogs in this room." I wasn't planning on bringing my pugs into the bird demonstration so we continued to the vendor display. One room was filled with pamphlets and brochures on subjects ranging from vegetarianism to aromatherapy for dogs and horses. In the center of the room sat a woman from Dog Chapel with a few Stephen Huneck items, the only truly doggie items I saw. This was the one display that caught Alfie and Waffles attention as there was a life-sized "angel pug" on the floor. Alfie barked at it and looked ready to attack before stopping to take a sniff. Everyone laughed when they realized she thought this was a friend.

Next to the Huneck display was a table of vegan cupcakes. Afraid the dogs might seize on those next and we might receive yet a third warning, I led them to the next room where there was a woman drumming, another doing animal Reiki and a third, doing pet and human readings from the medicine wheel. I suddenly grasped the "Angels and Animals" theme. This was not simply a dog-centered expo, but one with holistic, New Age concerns and focused on all animals. That was cool, it just wasn't what I was expecting and explained the lack of dogs. It did, however, make us the focus of attention by many and what was really interesting was how many people I recognized. I just couldn't place them or they me. Suddenly, it dawned on us. I had written articles about the Reiki woman and another on the new defunct Angels Among Us Pet Hostel. I was sad to hear that they had closed, I had only written the article a year before.

I thought of getting a pet reading for the pugs, but it cost $20 for 15 minutes and I figured both would have a lot to say, so instead I watched one woman getting hers done. When the drummer started up again I decided to leave as it seemed Alfie was ready to sing along. We went back up on the elevator and headed for the door, but were stopped again by a number of seniors wanting to pet the pugs again.

"I bet you're happy to see them," one woman remarked to another. "She reminds me of my Ginger," the woman said, looking at Alfie lovingly. It seemed my pugs unknowingly became a part of the expo, becoming angels to these people so happy to see them.

Pug Crazy at the Pug Social

Very excited to announce that my article "Pug Crazy at the Pug Social" has just been printed in Rutland Magazine http://www.rutlandmagazineonline.com. It is an article about Green Mountain Pug Rescue's http://www.greenmtnpugrescue.com upcoming 10th Anniversary Pug Social in Killington, VT. https://www.facebook.com/events/331032716982220/?ref=ts

If you love pugs you should pick up the article and come for the day! Hope to see you there.