We're BACK...

It's been a long while. I apologize. In September, my mother's death sort of brought some things to a full stop, and sent other things, deeply internal and personal things that were not Blog-fodder, into motion.

So, from August to April, what has been happening will largely remain un-blogged. Two seasons passed, fall and winter. Appropriately, they are the fallow seasons. And as Spring begins, we'll try to begin again, while we spare you photographs of every intrepid daffodil as it pushes through last fall's unraked leaves.

Two days ago, Crow had her 12th birthday. Three weeks ago, she experienced an episode of essential vestibular syndrome. Glimpsing her mortality was not a lot of fun, but the episode, as sobering as it was, reminded me that this girl has never been sick a day in her life. For an EPI dog, this is quite remarkable. Once we got her stabilized after she was diagnosed at the age of 2, she simply blasted her way through life joyfully, without missing a step. There are no words for how much this girl means to me. As she lies at my feet at this very moment, gnawing on the remnants of a buffalo shin bone, she looks like forever to me, and reminds me to stay in the moment. The loss of her older brothers within 6 months of each other just over a year ago, and the sudden death of her litter sister in December had already reminded me that we can only ever be sure of the moment we're in. It does me no harm to remember that every time I look into her remarkable eyes, nor to remember to thank her every day for the very special openness and connection she offers to me without fail. Happy Birthday, Crow.

Hudson, of course, cannot be left out. My boy is 9 now, approaching his 10th birthday in June. He has become an amazing companion in his own right. He still has that big-boy-dog energy and sweetness, the sum total of which is a "Goober" quality that makes me laugh every single day. He has never lost the "huh?" factor, but as he's matured he's slowly revealed his own brand of intelligence and insight. Crow walks by my side; Hudson stumbles on ahead, and circles around and amazes us both with his non-stop ability to be amazed himself, by the simplest things in life.

And so, we roll along. Perhaps, just as Hudson reveals his innate smarts, we'll slowly reveal some of the things that occurred between August and April. Many socks were knit. Both figuratively and literally, there is always something on the needles. Seasons and time passed. And we're all still here, and promise to blog more faithfully.