Fridays Are Golden

This has been a quiet week for the Golden Girls and for us.  The seat protector for the new car was on back order, so we switched to a different color.  It doesn't match the seats but we didn't want to keep waiting.  Unfortunately it has rained every day so the girls have not yet been in the new car.  Dog hairs in a new car we can deal with.  We are not yet ready for wet dogs and muddy paws.  So we have taken long walks and some running in the woods.

I've been a little blue this week thinking about people I know only through their blogs.  It seems that many of our blogger buddies have recently lost their pets, or are facing that uncertainty of deciding when it's time to make that dreadful decision.  My heart goes out to them because we have traveled that path before.

When we got Lucy to join our family it marked the first time we owned two dogs at once.  It is definitely double the fun.  But this week I have thought of the awful time when we might lose one of them.  In addition to our own grieving, we would have a dear friend remaining who is also grieving the loss of her sister.

Someone once said, "One reason a dog can be such a comfort when you're blue is that he doesn't try to find out why."  That has been ringing true around here.

You might think that the girls are blue as well when you see the photographs.  But that is definitely not the case.

Lucy looks so solemn

And Ellie has crawled between the chair and the table.

Whatever could be on Ellie's troubled mind?

We see these looks on our dogs every evening around 4:30.  That means it's almost time for dinner.  My husband sits in the chair and they are waiting for the signal that it's finally time.  We watch re-runs on television from 4:00 until 5:00.  The girls know that the commercial break after 4:30 is the cue.  The man will finally arise and see to his most important duty.

So while the girls may look sad, they are actually anxious about having dinner.  I assure you they have rarely missed a meal but they seem concerned about that possibility every single day.  Mornings are easy.  Get up, take a walk, come back to breakfast.  But they have to anticipate the evening meal.  And they do.  From 4:00 on.

Today's quote is attributed to someone named Cheryl Zuccaro.  It has been floating in my head all week.

"It came to me that every time I lose a dog, they take a piece of my heart with them.  And every new dog who comes into my life gifts me with a piece of their heart.

If I live long enough, all the components of my heart will be dog and I will become as generous and loving as they are."

What a wonder that would be.

HAVE A MOST WONDERFUL WEEKEND, EVERYONE!