Bopril

Sydney

I was a senior in high school when she came into our family. It was a busy time full of college visits and “lasts” and making memories and soaking up my cushioned, blessed little life. It was a random post-church trip to the mall, like so many before it, and yet it changed the course of our family for many years to come. Ironically, she snagged Dad’s attention first. We’ve always been a family of dog lovers, but he’s the toughest nut to crack – at least outwardly – and she melted him into a pile of goo. It prompted a return trip with the full family, and I think I will always remember the details of that particular scene. They brought her from the back so that I could hold her and she was so excited that she was literally wiggling with glee, her entire body writhing with joy, 15 or so pounds of exuberant, precious slobbery puppy. I struggled to hold onto her and she smothered me with kisses and looked right at me with those soulful eyes of hers. I was a goner. We all were.

She rode home with Matt and me in my car, alternating between our laps, and her tail never stopped wagging for the length of the ride. To be honest, I’m not sure it’s ever stopped in all the years since we first met her. It was the beginning of our new family, and we were forever changed. Sydney Brock took her place in our home and our hearts, and she’s never wavered since.

I close my eyes and it all comes back: she slept on her back on my brother’s blue carpet while we played Super Mario, her legs straight in the air with her head tilted sideways. She cuddled next to me every single night, molding her own perfect spot just behind my knees. She ran “psycho circles” in our huge fenced-in backyard, tearing up and down the stairs with abandon. She shredded stuffed animals with glee, learned to sit and lie down (and eventually to shake, give high five, stay and a few other fun tricks), greeted us with full body wiggles and kisses and snorts every time we got home from school.

I’d lean over the edge of the couch to talk to Mom in the kitchen and she’d pop up right beside me, paws thrown over the sofa cushions. She’d tear through snow, run circles through discarded wrapping paper and ribbon at Christmas, sit quietly at our feet while we watched movies, knowing popcorn was coming her way.

She’s never been big on other dogs, but she’s also never met a person she didn’t love and to this day, she charms vets and groomers and strangers and neighbors alike.

She saw both Matt and me off to college and was always waiting at the door to welcome us home for visits. She’d be so excited to see us that she’d actually whine and cry and we had to greet her outside because she inevitably peed just a little. She’s seen us through other transitions too: cross country moves and marriage and the addition of my own two fur babies with whom Syd has an “I’ll tolerate you but she was mine FIRST!” sort of relationship. So many changes, so many transitions, so many moments; she’s been right there for all of it.

Our girl is fifteen now; her muzzle and chest and paws are littered with gray. Her walk is slower these days, more purposeful. She can’t really hear us anymore, but you better believe she knows when her people are nearby. She has trouble seeing too, but I like to think that she naps on her cozy little bed and just dreams of the fun we’ve had since she joined our family.

It’s been awhile since I’ve seen my sweet girl, and I need to get home soon to give her a big hug. While time’s passing certainly shows, I’m always thrilled to glimpse a little of that puppy spirit that we’ve loved for so long.

Happy birthday, sweet girl (and sorry I’m a little late in posting this).

Sydney/Syd/Puppers/Sitney/Siddy-Siddy-Bang-Bang/the Beast/Puppers the Beast/Sydney-Bocker – there will never be another quite like you, and we love you fiercely. Thanks for the love and spirit and fun and grace you’ve brought to our family all these years. I hope we’ve given it back to you in spades.

Thankful

For family, near and far. To be surrounded by such a strong network of people who see the best in me, love me without fail, push me to new heights, remind me that I’m never alone.

For an especially amazing husband who continues to inspire me and make me laugh and remind me that this life is beautiful and lucky and endlessly fun, mostly because I get the distinct honor of living it in his company.

For fur babies who are so much more than pets; for their sweet faces and unwavering love that pull me through the deepest of trenches and greet me with “smiles” every single day. I struggle the most in expressing my gratitude for these furry little beings; words aren’t quite adequate to convey what they’ve brought to my life.

For grace and for surprises, often intermingling, always catching me when I most need to be caught and always reminding me of the importance of perspective, and of the promise of what’s to come. I think 2012 is going to be an especially amazing year for us, and I’m grateful in advance.

For unwavering spirit and belief, for perseverance and fortitude, and the knowledge that we are at least partially responsible for the path in front of us. What we put into the world does tend to come back to us, and even when times are tough, I try always to tip the scales in favor of putting good into the universe. I see so many doing the same. It gives me pause, and inspires gratitude.

For a warm home, a table overflowing with food, good health and good cheer. It is too easy to take these things for granted when so many make do with so much less.

For this space which gives me a place to exercise my writing muscle and connect with friends near and far. Even when I’m far too inconsistent with posting or even wholly uninspired, being a click away from access to you is a blessing.

For all of this, and so much more,  I am immensely thankful.

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I hope that you enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgiving with your loved ones, friends. I hope you were surrounded by all that you’re especially thankful for, and that you were able to reflect on all that makes your life awesome.

We spent a quiet few days at the lake this year; our colds lingered a bit, but overall, we’re on the mend and the quiet and relaxation was just the ticket to push us back to good health. We cooked and ate and talked and read and watched Love Actually and Christmas Vacation and the requisite boatload of football. But mostly, we were content just to be. And I was struck, as I am every year, by the embarrassment of riches that I’ve been blessed with. And I relaxed in MIL's cozy home and gave thanks for every single one.

My cup runneth over. Happy Holidays – my favorite time of year – from our family to yours.

Happy Wednesday: Marcel the Shell

I am going to go out on a limb and assume this is the most adorable thing you'll watch all week. This video has been making the rounds, and I can't stop watching it.

"Treats and snoozin', snoozin' and treats, that's it."

"Wanna know why I smile so much? Uh, cuz it's worth it!"

Hope you enjoy, friends.

To Emmy on her Birthday

I am thinking of this sparkling little girl today, on her third birthday, and of her amazing Mommy, whom I adore. I can’t believe I haven’t yet scooped up this little cutie in person, but thanks to technology, I feel like I know a little of her spirit.

(photo borrowed from Mommy's blog --- hope you don't mind, Rob!) :)

Happy birthday, sweet Emmy! You’re already showing three who’s boss.

Weekendings: Sick, Sick, Sick

I feel like I spend a lot of time --- perhaps even an inordinate amount --- attempting to avoid germs and sickness. The thing is, I HATE being sick. I realize that being sick isn’t something that anyone in the world aspires to, but my hatred for it really does go the extra mile. The older I get, the harder I fall when I finally do succumb to sickness. What once took a few days to kick will linger for weeks, sometimes months. The unpleasant nose blowing and head throbbing and throat burning aren’t enough of an annoyance, no. I have to also have literally ALL of the energy sucked from my person too. When I say that I’ve been sound asleep by 9 more nights than not recently, I am not exaggerating. When I say I have combined that early bedtime with impromptu naps at odd hours, that isn’t coy talk either. It’s fact.

And while I have recently (as always) washed my hands like a maniac, buried my face in my scarf at even a hint of a sneeze or cough and done my best to change out toothbrushes, sterilize every surface, wash and rewash sheets and pillowcases, I still could not outrun this cold.

And I am sorry to be blunt and perhaps also profane, but this cold is a real asshole.

So I wish that I had an awesome and glamorous weekendings recap for you, but alas, I do not. Because my weekend looked very much like Wednesday, Thursday and Friday looked --- which is a little something like this:

• A daily race with myself to see how many popsicles I can consume. For the record, grape is currently my favorite, but at times in the last week, each of the three flavors has held top spot.
• Constant trips to the microwave with my sinus mask --- a very comforting solution during sinus pressure and cold ugh-ness, with the unfortunate side effect of a slight burned rice smell when you heat it up. But there is a bonus, and it is that I cannot smell the mask due to Mr. Cold. Win!
• Using up an entire jumbo pack of Charmin (the double rolls) as my own personal Kleenex, and quite literally filling three kitchen sized trash bags to the brim with them in as many days. (side note: I used to just pile them up on the coffee table, nightstands, etc, but around day two, I realized that habit is really rather gross. So out came the trash bags)
• Amusing myself with a semi constant rotation of liquids: shall I have Gatorade? How about Vitamin water? Just regular water? Perhaps Pellegrino? Oh wait, I haven’t had orange juice today!
• Embracing the “yep, I’m going to drown” feeling twice a day minimum in favor of temporary relief via my trusty sinus wash contraption.

I started going a bit stir crazy on Friday, and by Saturday, even though I wasn’t feeling great, I made it my mission to get out of the house. I accompanied Husband for a few errands, we managed dinner out, and then it was right back to bed by 8:30ish for me. Sunday was much the same; I made it to the grocery store and the movie theater, but still managed to spend the majority of the day on the couch or in bed.

I’m back at it today, and I do feel better, but I still don’t feel anything close in proximity to good. This morning, Husband woke up with a sore throat. Sigh. Lucky for him, I will share my popsicles.

The only awesome thing about the last 5-7 days? Constant and adorable fur baby snuggle action. They are the best nurses around, no question.

Here’s hoping you’ve all escaped this miserable, asshole bug, friends!