Agility

This morning I took Henry to his agility training class. Awesome.

Henry is so funny in his class. He loves it. Truly loves it. Aprill and I call him “the deputy.” The first part of class is just socialization and play time from whenever you arrive until 9:30 AM (when the class starts). Henry spends that time checking every dog out. He doesn’t play a lot – just runs around and greets each new dog who enters the area. He’s just keeping the peace.

Then comes the class. That’s when things get fun. He’s been at it long enough now that he does all of it off leash. We walk around, pass the other dogs, sit, stay, come, all the basic commands. We take another play break – then comes the agility.

Agility is Henry’s strong suit. There’s the A-frame, the jumps and the tunnels. I have no idea which one he loves the best – but it’s between the jumps and the tunnels. He gets so pumped up going through the tunnel that he usually goes BACK through the other way (which would be a definite deduction in agility trials). The jumps? He just nails the jumps. He can take the 4-foot jump without a hitch.

And we’re surrounded by some great dogs and happy dog people. There are golden retrievers, doberman pinschers, stafordshire terriers, labradoodles, boxers and lots of mutts.

Great dog. Great time.

A load of dogs

Aprill and Lisa went on another mission on Saturday. To Spartanburg and back with a load of dalmation mix puppies – 6 in all – plus the mother dog.

I love this activity. It’s usually on a Saturday – and my Saturday’s are full. But I can’t wait until I get to go along. Just the idea that you’re one link in a hundreds-of-miles-long chain of people saving the life of a dog is something exceptional. Pictures to come.

Mark, Henry and God

I’m kind of a morning person. I was never the kid whose mom had to drag him out of bed kicking and screaming. I like waking up, getting up and getting my day started.

But not as much as Henry. He’d get up at 4:30 and take off around the block with me in rain, snow, sleet or a firestorm. He loves the morning.

One of the things that I love most about getting up is seeing how happy he is that I am up. He is elated that I’ve finally decided to get up and take advantage of this new day with him (even if FINALLY is 5:30 AM) . He runs around, stretches, gives me some sniffs, huffs and puffs. He delights in my presence.

In a way, it’s probably a bit blasphemous to compare your dog to God. But yesterday, Pastor Mark’s lesson was so simple and yet so powerful. No histrionics. No theatre. No razzmatazz. Just a simple message from Isaiah 62:

“No longer will they call you Deserted, or name your land Desolate. But you will be called Hephzibah (which means ‘my delight is in her’), and your land Beulah; for the LORD will take delight in you, and your land will be married. As a young man marries a maiden, so will your sons marry you; as a bridegroom rejoices over his bride, so will your God rejoice over you.”

I heard him say it Saturday night, and it made me feel so good that I made it a point to hear it again two times on Sunday. And it never got old to me. And it never will. The simple message that God loves me, takes delight in me – even more than Henry in the morning – is enough to get me through anything.

Rescuing Dogs

Aprill is such a cool wife. There is never a dull moment living with her.

Today, she (along with our friend Lisa) made her inaugural run as a transporter for ACES (Another Chance for English Setters). This group of people find and foster English Setters all over the country. Hunter is a six-year-old Setter who needed to get from Virginia to a foster home in Florida. So Aprill and a number of other people formed a human chain all the way down the eastern seaboard. She picked him up in Charlotte, and drove him to just north of Columbia, SC, where she handed him off to another transporter whose destination was Orangeburg…and another transporter.

Last word – Hunter’s made it to Florida already, and will be at his new foster home tonight.

It’s a good thing. A very, very good thing – to know that Hunter’s resting somewhere tonight in the hands of a new foster family, awaiting a forever home.

An owl at sunrise

One of the things that I love about where I live is that it is an urban forest and has all kinds of wildlife.

It’s pretty much in the middle of town. But 54 years ago – when my house was built – it was the first house on property that was then a farm. The builders of the neighborhood did a good job of leaving what, at that time, were 40- and 50-year old trees. Now, we are blessed with 90- and 100-year old trees everywhere.

With that kind of vegetation, we see lots of animals. There are 1000s of squirrels and birds. We have deer (and at least one 4-point buck that I saw myself). We’ve seen rabbits, wild turkeys, hawks and at least one red fox.

But it’s the owls that I really love. Barred Owls mostly (a lot like the spotted owls in the west). They are large – about the size of the great horned owl – but with a rounded head. In the night, they hoot, but they can also scream. Their screams can sound like a baby screaming, or even a woman’s scream. The first time you hear it (particularly if it is at night and the owl is near your bedroom window), it can be unnerving.

But this morning was the best. Henry and I were walking – out a bit earlier than usual – and it was literally at the crack of dawn. The sky was just barely light on the horizon, and the cool weather had created a mildly dense fog that hung over everything. No morning traffic yet. Just Henry and I. As we walked, we could hear the owl with its simple “hoot” ahead. Then it was beside us. Then it was behind us. I looked but could never find it – even in the bare trees. But it was there.

And it was really cool.