I rarely actually mention the dogs these days, mostly because they're not a problem. Amazing how much more creative we can be when writing about things that are a nuisance or drive us crazy than about those facets of our life which hum along quietly.
When I started this blog, we had four dogs. Since then, Melba (retired racing greyhound pictured above) has made her way along to the Rainbow Bridge. After five months of not having her around, I can honestly say that I still miss her from time to time, but my life is much more sane (insofar as that is possible. I do live with John, afterall.).
This morning I was cleaning up the "residue" of a winter with many dogs and little scooping. Times like this make you really think about how many dogs you have and what you can handle (trust me) and I have to say that I couldn't handle another senior dog right now, especially with Moss the Teenaged Wondernut around. When Melba was in her final months, I was constantly cleaning up various forms of bodily solids and fluids, both canine and infantile. I was torn between the front door, the back door and the change table; constantly opening and closing and cleaning and mopping and going out of my tree. I don't begrudge Melba a minute of that time, but I'm rather glad it's over.
Here's the current (non-geriatric) pack:
And Moss. Wonderfully intelligent and sensitive boy who never lets good sense get in the way of good fun. (He's the one in back in the lower two pictures.) I have great hopes for him, if he ever grows up.
Having a young border collie around is actually more work than a toddler. Like a child, though, the memory fades as they grow and you think, "hmmm…. another one wouldn't be so bad." Stop. Trust me. It is.
So that's our pack and my reflection thereon. Amazing what a contemplative thing scooping poop can be….