Thursday, February 19, 2015

A New Year

I haven't posted in awhile.  It's more than halfway through the second month of 2015 and I haven't felt even the slightest desire to show up here and post anything.  I'm busy - with writing, with family, with rescue work.  I'm content.  Not a day goes by that I'm not thankful for the life I have.  My husband is my best friend, I work from home, and I'm debt-free.  No complaints there.

I wish I could motivate myself to exercise more.  Join that new gym, and actually go.  But I walk and occasionally work out with weights here at home, and I've lost 5 pounds by cutting my portion size down.  I always ate pretty healthy, I just ate more than I should.  I'd like to keep losing weight, and plan to, but basically I'm happy with myself and my life.

I just realized this is going to be one of those rambling posts.  Since hardly anyone reads this, it's ok.

I'm growing my hair out again.  It's blond, which is a color choice I haven't made in a long time. That's ok too.  I'll be 54 this year and one of the things I like about this age is the satisfaction I get from knowing myself and what I like and what I want.

Adding rescue work to my life has been wonderful.  Sure it's hard - rescue isn't easy.  Sometimes you see things you wish you could unsee.  Sometimes you learn more about human nature than you wanted to know.  Often it hurts.  But the dogs don't know any of that.  All they know is they've found kindness for the first time ever in their short life.  Sometimes they're not sure if they can trust it.  The foster dog I have now, Bridget, has been her 1.5 months and still isn't sure I'm not going to shove her out into the backyard and leave her there.  She must have been ignored as she's starved for attention. But then when she gets it, she's uncomfortable with it.  Like she is waiting for the hammer to fall, or the hand to strike.

But her forever dad is waiting for her - she has Heartworm treatment to go through - and he clearly loves her.  He seems patient and if anyone can show this little dog how to love and be loved, he can. This kind of thing makes it all worth it.  Reading my other rescue friends' stories and finding a tear in my eye, fills my heart.  This is work that matters.  I actually have made a difference.

And then there are my own personal dogs.  One nearing the end of his life, almost 14, deaf and nearly blind.  He's had a good life and been a great dog and I'll miss him when he goes.  Until then, I'll keep him warm and fed and loved.  The rest - two raised from puppy; they've never known a minute of hardship or cruelty, and that's how it should be.  Two more who were rescued and are what's known as "foster failures."  One who never left, one who was adopted and came back, and who will never leave again.  They fill my heart.  Frequently aggravate me, but always love me.

My job - my stories, my writing.  I love my agent and my editor and my publisher.  Though I'd love to win the lottery, I'm grateful I make enough to write full time.  I'm pretty content these days.

So there you have it.  2015 has begun and I hope the course will be steady and calm and peaceful.

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