Why does the first day back to work for the New Year, after taking over a week off, always feel like the first day of school? Or is this another of those things where my sister would say, "Lisa, it doesn't feel that way to the rest of us. It's just another of your weird things." Fine, I'm used to that, but for me, that is how it feels. It's that whole fresh start. I've cleaned out the briefcase (and wondered why I only do that once a year. It probably weighs a pound less!) I have the fresh new desk calendars ready to take to work. The house is all clean and in order and the laundry is done. If you know me and laundry, that's a major thing in and of itself. I'm trying to decide what new clothes I'm going to wear this week. Now, if only "Picture Day" could be thrown in, it would be EXACTLY like heading back to school.
Alright, time to get back to what just happened that triggered me to write:
Saber just peed on Savannah. I'm talking dead-center, right in the middle of her back. Here's how the discovery sounded, verbatim, when Savannah stepped into the house from the patio door:
First-off, I suppose I should start with me, for those who don't know me. I worked in radio for 18 years, still do some voice-work every now and then and I never entirely rule out going back to that world if the right opportunity rolled my way, because I do genuinely miss it. Currently, I'm the Marketing and Events Manager for a fairgrounds. To be honest, I'll probably never write much about my job, as it's a government position and I think the safest thing to do is avoid going there. In my "other" life, I show dogs. It amounts to being an expensive, yet rewarding, hobby that obviously intertwines with my day-to-day life in a major way. I handle my own dogs, and often handle dogs for other people. I'm very involved with my own specific regional breed club, as well as an all-breed club that produces a giant dog show every year.
I'm single, never been married, and yes, I could probably write volumes about my perspective on that, but I won't....not now anyway. Seriously, I'm happy and feel fortunate to be where I'm at in my life. I'm blessed with a lot of great things that have come my way. If things work out with the right guy, I would view it as the cherry, on top of the sprinkles, on top of the frosting, on top of the cake. I'm willing to admit that I think time and experience has turned me into a cautious skeptic in the romance department, not one to easily let my guard down. But what do I know? Maybe it's still possible. I would like to think so.
Ah, but there IS the one great love of my life. Of course, he's got 4 legs and a tail. Saber is the oldest of the 3 Norwegian Elkhounds who live with me, and he might very well be what we call my "Forever Dog," meaning he's the one that's going to leave a lasting mark on me. There were 2 dogs I showed and owned before him, but he and I just have this "thing." He's very special. LOVES people, and is amazing with kids. He had a great show career and now is pretty much retired, coming out to shows every now and then to compete in the Veteran class. He just turned 9, and it scares me a little to think about how much I love this dog and how I'll handle the day when I don't have him anymore.
Next is the true Queen of the house who, honestly, runs the show: Savannah, the 
Miniature Poodle. "Vannie" or "Vanna," turns 13 in February. She was my "Townhouse Dog," when I lived in an apartment before I bought my house. I clearly couldn't have a big dog with me, but the landlord had no issue with Savannah. She, too, was a show dog, even before I got her when she was a year and a half old, but that ended when her breeder decided her coat couldn't handle the rigors of that extreme "do" the Poodles have to pull off in the show ring. That was fine by me, as I just wanted her to be my buddy, so she was spayed, her hair was cut down, and she went on to compete in Obedience earning a title in that. Poodles are smart beyond just about any other breed I've ever met. It's almost like you're dealing with a human on 4-legs, which makes them really fun. I always say Savannah may be small and cute, but she's really a tough talkin' broad. She's my little shadow, glued to my side when she's not sleeping.
The other girl in the house, my first Norwegian Elkhound female, is Paige. She's 5 years old and had a litter of pups sired by Saber in August. My relationship with Paige really had to evolve. All of us who work a lot with dogs comment often of how the boys are so much more cuddly and affectionate than the girls, and that you see so much more independence with the females, and it's definitely been that way with Paige. She simply likes to do her own thing, and for a long time I felt like she could take me or leave me, it didn't really matter. But I learned she merely shows her affection in a very different, much more subtle way, and my admiration for her grew by leaps and bounds watching her take care of her pups. As I write this, she's curled up next to me on the couch, sound asleep.
The most recent addition to the family is truly a "family" member. Aks
el is the son of Saber and Paige, the puppy I chose to keep from the litter born in August. I had a rather unique scenario, in that I own both of the parents of the litter. Normally, after much studying of pedigrees, you go out to find the stud dog, and he could be anywhere in the country or the world, for that matter. But Paige was purchased by Saber's breeder to give to me to specifically breed to him. She essentially picked her out before she was born, knowing the pedigree was one that would go well with Saber's bloodline, and if a good female puppy emerged, she wanted to send her up here to me. The much-anticipated breeding happened this summer, with the pups arriving in August. The little guy who got to stay here and never had to leave home was Aksel. While I say Saber is the love of my life, I think his son could give him a run for his money. I love, love, love, this puppy.
There's another Elkhound named Espen who turns a year old in February and I co-own him with my sister, who he lives with. We'll get to him at a later date, but the four pictured are the ones who are responsible for me never having a dull moment in my life, who always give me someone to come home to, and who never let a day go by without making me laugh.
When I look back at 2010, it will be remembered for the very significant dog moments that happened. I lost my beloved first show dog, Maverick, just shy of his 14th birthday. Just days after that, Espen came into our lives. Then over the summer the long-awaited litter of pups out of Saber and Paige got here on a hot August day, and I got my first experience at whelping and taking care of litter.
I'm expecting things to be a little more low-key this year in the canine category.
I say that as Savannah is trying to dry off from Saber's leg-lifting assault.
Low-key?
Yeah, right.
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