Happy? Oh, there you are....

I found my happy...it was in a funny place and took a rainy walk on a sleepy Sunday to bring it home.

We were expecting some really rough, dangerous weather to hit that night and all Monday so, after a week of torrential rain, I took the slightest break in the weather to take the two stircrazy dogs for a walk.

As you know, I have found it hard to interract with them lately, due to the tragedy that unfolded last month. So, I went out in my usual sad state and concentrated on enjoying the break in the weather. The regular pace of my dogs soothed me in a way I hadn't found in a long time, the steady trot lulling me into a peaceful mindest.

At our usual haunt there is a storm culvert in the large open park and it usually has an inch or two of water in it. Due to the recent rain it had a good two foot of still water, no current and the park itself had large open puddles. Once I released the hounds Q and Nell took off like bats out of hell, running in gigantic circles, pouncing on each other and being fools. Q ran through the puddles and grinned like a teenager, his tongue lolling out of a huge smile, jumping in puddles just like a big kid.

And then.... both dogs tried to run across the storm culvert at the exact same time and two dogs sunk like bricks, leaving two black noses just above the water. The turn around time was a fraction of a second and then the water exploded with Q hurtling out and Nell doing her usual washing machine impression of swimming. The look on her face was priceless, she was most indignant and THAT is when I found my happy....deep belly laughs billowed out of me, guffaws shook me and there I was, in the rain, wiping away tears of laughter.

We continued our walk home, with my happy settled next to my heart, two wet dogs and a sense of peace I haven't felt in ages........I found my happy!

The Naughties

We have to deal with alot of customers in our shop, some good, some bad, some really bad but you know that you've finally lost it when the bears begin to revolt!

We have three bears made by Russ, a toy maker that most people have heard of and these three terrors are collectively known as the Naughties. They scale the furniture, they chat up the dolls, they take over the quilts, they try and steal stuff from the jars; they are just plain naughty!

And I have proof!

Scaling the cupboard so they can see.
Thats a honey jar and they HAD to see if there was any left!

A recent rainy day and they huddled under the quilt. The first time I have seen them still...

See, people have the nerve to tell me I'm crazy but I know those bears will be the death of me!

Lost...one happy...if found, please call....

I can't find my happy...I've temporarily lost it. I can't find it.... but I know when I lost it.

One month ago our lives spiralled downhill. For anyone who knows us they know that our animals are our lives. Tony and I breed and show our beloved Devon Rex. Tony had the number 1 Devon in our cat council, a stunning tortie girl called Marble.

We have an automatic door closer that wasn't functioning as well as it could. My male stafford Q had figured out how to open the door and the door then hadn't closed. Marble went outside and sometime during the day she was killed by my dogs. MY dogs...the dogs I had plans to breed and continue my bloodlines.

Tony fell apart, his world was shattered as Marble was his beloved pretty girl. She was a gorgeous typey girl who we had big plans for...and my dogs ended her life. I can't get the image of that out of my mind. Or of Q bringing a small part of her fur to us as his trophy, he was so proud of himself. I had to deal with some of the remains while dealing with my own grief. Everything I knew and loved about my dogs had turned around and bitten me in the butt.

I immediately contacted Q's breeder and asked her to rehome him. Nell was in season and we were mere days away from preparing for a litter of pups but all those plans came to a screeching halt. I couldn't look at my dogs or touch them for three days.

And during this time I fell sick, I fell very,very sick. I had a cold before all of this and all of the stress made it settle on me very heavily. I was heartsick, I was emotionally sick, I was physically sick and I was mentally sick...I was broken.

A month has passed and we have dealt with our emotions and our feelings of loss.I returned to dog training with Q this week. I made the decision to get him desexed and I haven't regretted it. But I have discovered a side effect from all of this stress....I've lost my happy. I've lost the joy of training Q, of working with him and seeing him enjoy working with me. I came home from training last night and wept in my husbands arms.

And, I don't know where to find it or how to get it back.......if you find my happy, can you please let me know?

Little Bears Don't Bounce

Conor has spent a fair amount of time recently falling off, over and through various things, including taking regular dives off the trampoline. I have discovered that when there is no blood and no obvious injury the best cure is a Mummy hug and a hot bubble bath....

He obviously has NO brain injuries to speak of....*sigh*

Broken

Yes, I know my last post was about how Superhuman I am, how I can take this mans world and rock it blah blah blah but....after two days of solid working my arse off, I broke.

We moved the houselot on Tuesday and I worked at my regularly job as a dog groomer on Wednesday, came home to two devestated little boys who wanted to go to the school disco but weren't allowed to because they hadn't cleaned their room and their kept on crying and crying and moaning and crying, dinner wasn't ready, I was supposed to leave to go to Agility training in 15 minutes and...I...broke.

Like a windup toy without a key, I stopped working. I made dinner, sat down and literally couldn't move. I was so awe inspiringly, gob smackingly tired, I couldn't move. I couldn't go to training even if people were depending on me. I sat down, I vegged, I read a good book and went to bed where I slept deeply and dreamlessly.

Sometimes, we need to not just wind the key but oil the soul as well.

I Am Woman, Hear Me *&%#*.....

My husband and I own an antique store. This means that, on a regular basis, all five foot of me gets to lug around peices of furniture which are several times my size. I have had two hand surgeries this year and still have gripping issues, my back regularly clicks out but I don't complain. I get to it, I pick huge wardrobes up and pop them on the back of our ute. I single handedly carry items that would make a grown man whimper. And then, after a full day of rearranging furniture, clearing houselots, loading and unloading robes etc, I quite happily wander off to agility and do it all again with the agility equipment.

Today we cleared a house. Today we moved around fifteen large peices of furniture including wardrobes, dressers, washstands, beds etc including a massive maple wardrobe that was twice my height and twice my length. Being twice my height and length means I couldn't lift it to clear the ground, and neither could husband, but I still managed to team lift it with hubby out the house, down the stairs, we both dropped it spectacularly through a shed (one of the mirrors broke dammit all!) and onto the ute. Hubby and I looked at each other in pure disbelief that we managed to get it on there! Everything was tied down and moved to the shop.

Once at the shop we unloaded it, it fell on me and pinned me to the ute and still I didn't complain. We loaded it onto a furniture trolley, which was exceedingly dodgy and managed to man (and woman) handle it around the corner and ready to go into the shop. Thats where we hit the first hitch, it was a half size again the height of the door frame. So, we laid it down on the trolley where it promptly started to slide off.

And that's when my knight in rusty army arrived. Rather than address the fact that the thing was sliding off due to the weight, he proceeded to try and get me to LET IT GO so HE could lift it. When he realised exactly how heavy and awkward it was, he sniffed and said, "Thats why I only collect little things," pushed past us and went into the shop.

Together hubby and I got it into the shop and finally into place. Standing back and looking at our handiwork, we were interrupted by the Knight saying, to husband, "You see, there's you're problem, other dealers hire a young man or two to help them but its harder when you've only got your wife." At that point hubby started looking madly at the ceiling while my temperature started to rise.

I fixed this idot with a steely glare while he continued to tell Tony that I couldn't possibly be as able bodied as a strapping young man. I continued to hold my tongue as tact and diplomacy are not my strong suit and I have REALLY been working on them. As he continued to wander around the shop I started to ask Tony to pull things down for me because "I was JUST a WOMAN and I couldn't POSSIBLY do that MYSELF".

I think it was a mere half a second after he left that I lost it and began bellowing about sanctimonious arseholes who wouldn't know a real woman from his blowup doll....and husband started laughing...he told me he was counting the seconds until I up and bitch slapped the wanker LOL!

ROADTRIP!

When I was a kid we used to go camping. Every September we would pack up and head somewhere. When we lived in the bush it was always to a farmers property where we could camp on the banks of a river and enjoy your morning cuppa with a cow or two and occasionally a horse would steal your coffee or toast. When we lived closer to the city it was to caravan parks, camping grounds etc and no matter where we went we had a ball.

I had the opportunity to take the Noodle and the kids up to Maryborough for the weekend, chasing that damn elusive Gamblers title and also running Agility, Jumpers, Snooker and Strategic Pairs(dog sports huh!). After clearing it with hubby I made the booking for a small camping ground on the outskirts of Maryborough called the Country Stopover Caravan and Camping Ground.

The journey was a mere two and a half hours but it was worth it. We arrived to a closed main office with a sign stating " Open from 9am to 10pm- If office is unattended, pick a spot...we'll catch up with you later!" This illicited a huge belly laugh from me at the honesty this implied! Off we toddled and chose a great spot under shady trees, near the amenities block (why is it that one of the taps never turns off...ever? Is it a quirk of fate or the Camping Gods just messin with ya?) The kids hit the swimming pool, it was tiny, saltwater and absolutley freezing but they swam and splashed like fish. I even jumped in and froze my bits off.

We then headed on out to the first of the two day trials. What a fantastic event! The judges were laid back, the atmosphere was friendly, the kids had two whole football fields to run around and act like fools in and we came away that night with two Q's, a third and a first place! The only thing was it ran very late. At one point Conor fell asleep in a full upright sitting position with his chin in one hand. Myself and several friends spent several minutes trying to figure out why gravity was apparently NOT applying to him! He did eventually shake himself awake enough to roll into a little ball where he was trodden on by a wayward whippet, checked over by Dan-Dan-He's-Our-Man, the lovable Lhasa owned by the adorable Bec and cuddled by Nell.

Back at the tent we realised quite quickly that shady trees don't work at night when you are less than twenty metres from a major highway, also known as a trucking route. The trucks were hideously noisy but we were so tired it didn't really matter.

Caitie is a doona hog as is Nell! I woke up to find myself covered in the dog rug having frozen during the night and Caitie was wrapped up in one doona, Nell was laying in between her and Conor, on her back both snoring and farting and the boys were sharing the two remaining doona's!

Breakfast opened a whole new high for us...the camp kitchen. I don't care about the prickles, the weeds, the rusting hulks of cars behind the managers residence, the dodgy looking demountables, the scary amenities but that camp kitchen was schmicko! It had a running sink, fridge, free gas barbeque, wood stove, huge picnic tables and even a tv! I was in love.

And to me, that was the sign of a great camping ground. It wasn't about perfect amenities, it was about the things that made camping easier for everyone. I happily told everyone about our "dodgy camping ground". You know, we actually packed up and left without even seeing the owner or paying for our stay????

After the second days trial, I did go back and pay...and he even undercharged me! Would I go back, hell yes, and the kids had a ball as well! And still...that damn Gamblers title eluded me again!