Son took these on our recent visit to the local science museum. After interning there this summer, he got a 3 month pass for himself and a guest.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Friday, October 12, 2012
Sunday, October 7, 2012
The Feast of St. Brady
The title of this post is not meant to be sacrilegious--and it is to some degree tongue in cheek. But it occurred to me today--the first time in over a decade that I did NOT attend church on the day of the Blessing of the Animals, that the Feast of Saint Francis was sort of Brady's special day.
Brady was an only dog when I first adopted him, and he enjoyed LOTS of rides in the Adventure Box. I originally intended to get him certified as a therapy dog, and in order to do that, he first had to earn his Canine Good Citizen certificate. So there were several rounds of obedience training, including a sort of informal "graduate" class that would meet at the end of the day when PetSmart was about to close, and the dogs could mingle off leash. There were other outings too, and Brady, by virtue of being a collie, turned heads wherever he went. People would literally "bow down" to pet him. Brady ate this up with a spoon.
I still regret that I never followed through with the animal assisted therapy thing, but, you know, "life is what happens while you're busy making other plans". Life kept me busy in plenty of different ways, and, once we adopted Winnie, Brady pretty much stopped getting his special outings. I rationalized that he had another dog at home to keep him company, so he didn't need a "doggie play group" the way he used to. And it wasn't easy for me to take TWO dogs on an outing.
Eventually, I felt a bit guilty about the wistful glances from Brady when we walked past the van but I didn't open the rear gate to let him jump in and go out somewhere to greet his adoring public. The Saint Francis Pet Blessings became a regular thing that I did with him. He had no idea what a "blessing" was, obviously, but any ritual that involved a human crouching down, stroking his head, and speaking gentle words to him clearly had his paw print of approval.
Winnie likes that kind of attention too, but it never became a ritual with her, and I don't feel any great urge to start now. At this point, I don't see her enjoying spending an extended period of time sitting or lying on the cold, hard church floor. Her 12 year old bones yearn to settle down somewhere soft and warm, and I can't say that I blame her. Perkins? I'm exhausted just thinking about how hard it would be to keep that energetic, athletic, and STRONG young guy under control amidst so many distractions.
Today I am blessed to share my life with two wonderful dogs--who each delight and amuse me in their own way. But the Feast Day of St. Francis will always be Brady's special day. It is a day that I smile at the thought of him shamelessly flirting with anyone who was willing to shower him with attention. And I shed a tear as I am reminded that I can never again stroke the soft fur on his head, and tell him what a beautiful boy he is, and what a once-in-a-lifetime friend he has been.
Brady was an only dog when I first adopted him, and he enjoyed LOTS of rides in the Adventure Box. I originally intended to get him certified as a therapy dog, and in order to do that, he first had to earn his Canine Good Citizen certificate. So there were several rounds of obedience training, including a sort of informal "graduate" class that would meet at the end of the day when PetSmart was about to close, and the dogs could mingle off leash. There were other outings too, and Brady, by virtue of being a collie, turned heads wherever he went. People would literally "bow down" to pet him. Brady ate this up with a spoon.
I still regret that I never followed through with the animal assisted therapy thing, but, you know, "life is what happens while you're busy making other plans". Life kept me busy in plenty of different ways, and, once we adopted Winnie, Brady pretty much stopped getting his special outings. I rationalized that he had another dog at home to keep him company, so he didn't need a "doggie play group" the way he used to. And it wasn't easy for me to take TWO dogs on an outing.
Eventually, I felt a bit guilty about the wistful glances from Brady when we walked past the van but I didn't open the rear gate to let him jump in and go out somewhere to greet his adoring public. The Saint Francis Pet Blessings became a regular thing that I did with him. He had no idea what a "blessing" was, obviously, but any ritual that involved a human crouching down, stroking his head, and speaking gentle words to him clearly had his paw print of approval.
Winnie likes that kind of attention too, but it never became a ritual with her, and I don't feel any great urge to start now. At this point, I don't see her enjoying spending an extended period of time sitting or lying on the cold, hard church floor. Her 12 year old bones yearn to settle down somewhere soft and warm, and I can't say that I blame her. Perkins? I'm exhausted just thinking about how hard it would be to keep that energetic, athletic, and STRONG young guy under control amidst so many distractions.
Today I am blessed to share my life with two wonderful dogs--who each delight and amuse me in their own way. But the Feast Day of St. Francis will always be Brady's special day. It is a day that I smile at the thought of him shamelessly flirting with anyone who was willing to shower him with attention. And I shed a tear as I am reminded that I can never again stroke the soft fur on his head, and tell him what a beautiful boy he is, and what a once-in-a-lifetime friend he has been.
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