My Buddy Buck

Earlier this week I was repeatedly feeling like I was forgetting something. I could not seem to figure out what it was. I kept expecting to arrive at school and realized something that I had forgotten, but it never happened.

Every Wednesday night at school I run the circle-up at 5:50 p.m. It is a time for us all to meet up, make announcements, and prepare for the evening. I run the circle-up and share a quotation from my sparkly blue book that houses all my quotations, pictures, and memories. It is also a time for me to share a little bit about my life with the kids. I started sharing about Buck and showed the kids these two pictures. I told them about the tiny little apartment I lived in because it was the only one I could find that allowed dogs, and how he went to the grocery store with me and waited in the car. I told them how he was my best friend, and my only friend here when I first moved here. I told them about how he went for a hike and never came back. All the emotions started to return, and I surprised myself with tears.

I told them about the dreaded drive home and how I would cry just thinking about the empty little house. I told them about the night I was driving home and almost had to pull over I was crying so hard and started thinking about all the good times, the hikes, the way he followed me and asked myself if I would give it up, give it all up to not feel the pain, the anguish I was feeling in that moment and how I answered "no." I told the kids how I realized that Buck tricked me, how I was ready to give up on love and settle for a dog. I told them how I was ready to give up on some of my dreams, but I did not because I was tricked by a dog. I did not plan to fall in love, to get hurt again, but I did. And I shared with them the quotation that is written on the page next to Buck's pictures:

"Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams.There is only one thing that makes a dream impossible to achieve: the fear of failure."

The next day I was in yoga class, once again with that nagging feeling that I was forgetting something. As I lay against the wall in an inverted shavasana, trying to clear my mind but stuck with the sense that I was forgetting, I started to repeat the date in my head. November 19th, November 19th....Then it was almost impossible to stop the tears from dripping out of the corners of my eyes onto my mat. It was two years ago that I lost Buck and I still needed to mourn my friend, and remember and appreciate the lesson he taught me. "Though the body moves, the soul may stay behind: I miss you." Another quotation, another memory. It felt as if in the yoga class my body was finally able to connect with my mind, my soul and allow the pain that still lingers to seep out. All I had forotten was to slow down, and allow the hole he had left my heart to heal over a little.

Reggie in the Snow

Reggie loved the snow this winter. He loved burying his face in the snow, rolling in the snow, chasing snow, hiding in the snow, laying in the snow, licking snow, and eating snow. He loves snow. Evan and I got some great footage of him playing in some fresh snow, and I just got it off of Evan's camera. You can hear me laughing throughout the video...Reggie brought a lot of laughter to a long winter.

Skiing with Evan @ Schweitzer

Well, the good news is that Evan and I are still dating. If you are confused why I am mentioning this as an introduction to a post about skiing, read my entry about skiing with my dad from early winter last year. When alpine skiing, I can turn into an eight year old in a very short period of time. For instance, instead of calmly mentioning that I am starting to get cold, I pronounce with a whiny edge, "I'm cold!" As if I want the person I am speaking to fix the situation. Thankfully, this did not happen with Evan, well maybe it just a little bit.

It was a great day, with a gorgeous blue bird sky, and perfect visibility (which does not happen often at Schweitzer). We started the day out with him taking me through fresh powder for the first time! I was on my roommate Julie's shaped skis (so much better than my old school skinny skis!), and he was tele-skiing. It was definitely different. I can see how it would be fun, but at the moment I was a little overwhelmed how different the snow reacted beneath me. He took me on all the lifts I had never been on before at Schweitzer (I tend to stick to the same three because I know what to expect.). I was particularly happy with learning how to actually use my poles. After learning to ski at such a young age my body knew how to ski better than my mind, and at some point my body decided to stop using my poles. So my mind decided to just use them when I wanted to slow down. They work much more effective as a tool to assist one in turning. I loved practicing my turns and working on leaning into my boots more.

We took a break at lunch and let Reggie out of the car to relieve himself. We kept throwing snowballs up the snow berms with fresh powder on them. He had a blast, and was very tired by the end. We went back up for a couple of runs. I knew instantly when I was done. Suddenly, every run looked "really steep" and I was having trouble simply turning. I would go across the mountain in these long arcs before coming off the groomer into powder mounds that made turning even more difficult. At the start of our last run, while Evan stopped ahead of me to wait, I called down to him, "I think I am done skiing now." He gently reminded me that I would need to ski down the mountain before I could be done. I hate it when he is right.

I made it down, and apparently looked good doing it according to Evan. I am incredibly thankful he is so patient.

Maximillian Thomas or MAX the cat

We adopted him February 18th, 1994. That means he was just shy of his 15th birthday. He was quite the trooper. When he was just a kitten he used to bat at the buttons on the couch, and when you held him in your arms his little paws void of claws would knead at your arms as he purred in satisfaction. I read once that the kneading was representative of a kitten's attachment to its mother. It would knead at its mother's teats to get more milk, and transfers the kneading response to anything else pleasurable in its life when it wants more. They also knead in order to transfer their scent onto you, or whatever they are kneading. As Bill, Maureen, and I held MAX (my mom and I decided awhile ago that MAX's name was always to be written in capitals) the first day we met him at the vet's office, he kneaded on my arm. He wanted more, and he wanted us to be his.

As he grew up MAX became the neighborhood bouncer. He was lean and muscular with a swagger to scare off any kitten. And he loved to eat. I had a friend once tell me about a large cat that had come into his sun room and eaten his cats' food. He described the cat, and sure enough it was MAX. We often heard tales of how MAX had bullied a cat off his own porch just to sit a particular patch of sun. He was also a lover. We had one neighbor come over one day with over 15 pictures of MAX laying in the grass soaking up the sun. He used to help my mom garden by chasing clumps of weeds into the raspberry bushes where he was known to eat a raspberry or two when they were especially ripe. Naturally, I put him through a fair amount of torture by giving him regular baths, dressing him up in my doll clothes, and even tossing him in the hot tub once to see if he knew how to swim (he did). MAX always preferred to pee outside, to the extent that he would even venture out in the snow, delicately shaking his paws after every step.

As the years went on and MAX's muscles started to sag, and he became a homebody, yet his shoulders still held their broad posture. His swagger turned to more of an awkward, bow legged hobble. We started giving him cortisone shots for his arthritis. My favorite part was when Dr. White would say, "He'll be doing back flips in no time." This past October when I was home he jumped up on Evan's chest while he was napping. MAX never did this. He preferred to sit next to Bill, laying lengthwise against his legs. Bill always tried to get him to lay on his chest to no avail. All on his own, MAX jumped up on Evan and laid down. He placed one paw above Evan's wrist, and one below as if to grasp his arm. I think he was happy with who I had brought home.

Today was MAX's last day. The cortisone only helps for so long until quality of life declines. When I left for Germany in high school MAX became Bill's buddy. He knew I was his mom, but Bill was his best bud. I know Bill did everything he could to make MAX's last hours special, and I can only imagine that he was kneading his paws as he fell asleep for the last time.

Winter Has Arrived

I moved. Again. I tried living in a town of 500 people, and decided it was not for me. I enjoyed the short commute to work, but not the long drive to "town." The easily accessible wilderness was also a bonus. This picture is from Thanksgiving and our walk we went on up Lightening Creek road with all the dogs. In addition, Erik and Kendra are expecting a little cherub to enter their lives any day now. I am not yet ready to enter the "baby" stage of my life, whether it is my baby or not. I see myself as very comfortable in the "dog" stage of my life. There is bike, car, plant, dog, house and then baby. First, we learn how to be responsible for and take care of our bikes and everything that goes with that such as cleaning, learning the rules of the road, thinking ahead about weather, safety. Then we get a car, when we are ready to take care of a living thing we get a plant (or some type of caged animal). Dogs are a big step up from plants and caged animals as they actively speak out if you do not care for them. Babies are a huge step up from dogs that I am no where near ready to take. I need to teach Reggie to come first!

I love my new place in Sandpoint. It is a newer duplex I am sharing with my friend Julie and a previous roommate of hers. It is also conveniently just a couple blocks down the road from Evan. I am excited to have a little femininity in my life, and also just being closer to conveniences like the grocery store and the bank. It took me awhile to settled into being in town. I realized my first month here I was spending more money than usual at the grocery store. I thought back to when I lived in Clark Fork and remembered how any time I was in Sandpoint I went to the grocery store as often as I needed to, and every time I thought of something I needed. Once I was back in Clark Fork the variety was limited and the price was high. I just have to get back to city living.

Another joy of city living is the city plowing. The snow banks get surprisingly high along the sides of the residential streets. This does three things. The streets get quite narrow, which just makes snow driving a little more challenging. Secondly, when passing through an intersection there is always the question if another vehicle is approaching and often times sticking your nose out to check becomes a little risky. Thirdly, the snow blocks my mailbox and as a result the postal service does not deliver my mail and I have to go to the post office to pick it up. Why do I not just shovel the snow away? It is not just snow, it is large ice chunks and I could only imagine how cold it would be to lie on my back in the snow covered street after my back gives out from shoveling large ice chunks.

Reggie, on the otherhand, LOVES the snow. He repeatedly shoves his face in the snow and rolls around on his back in the large drifts. He burrows through deep snow and jumps like a large rabbit. Reggie was not made to love the snow. His hair is long and the snow clumps up around his face and legs to the point where he has trouble seeing and walks bow legged. It is not that I do not like the snow, I love how white it is and the way it covers everything. I love it when I am on skis, or snow shoes. I do not like it when it covers the road and it is hard to drive. I do not like it when I cannot get my mail. I do love seeing Reggie play in the snow.