Well, at least there’s that...

 This is a picture of my black lab "Daniel" swimming in a lake! So, cool. I always wanted a parrot. They are so fascinating, they talk, they laugh, they make sounds, what could be more fun than that? I found out that some people are just not "parrot people." However, our family was driving down a back street one day and the kids yelled "there's a parrot!" We stopped the car and my girls started calling to the parrot. I guess it was tired of walking, so it got in the car. They were thrilled! I was too. We decided to name that bird "Lucky" because he was lucky we found him. We found where he came from and the owner told us to "keep him". You're kidding! We were all so excited. Lucky learned how to say his name and he learned to whistle and sing and then it got night time and he didn't stop. My husband put a towel over Lucky's cage to make sure he knew it was night. That worked for a while. Unfortunately for Lucky, we didn&

So, Lincoln, my beautiful Australian Shepherd has finally trained me. Yep. I have wood floors so he has learned how to use them against me. In a previous house I had a light that would come on in the closet when you walked in, but this house.... no, the floors are his new megaphone. In the other house when he wanted me to get up he'd walk into the closet, the light would come on and then I'd wake up. If I didn't wake up, he'd wait and do it again. Lately he has become very bossy! My schedule is quite strange and he's not really used to it. He used to eat at the same time every morning and evening and we had a regular routine. He doesn't like change so anytime thing change he would leaves me "notes" that he is unhappy. For example: One time I was gone longer than he thought I should be so he unrolled the toilet paper all the way into the living room without tearing one sheet! Yes, he did, Now that my schedule is different he thinks he shoul

The past ninety days have been a training ground for Lincoln. He's learned to adapt to my new schedule, which keeps changing. So, we created a routine. IF there's a break in that routine ....let's just say, makes Lincoln a very bad dog. Oh, don't tell him I called him a dog...shhh (he doesn't know). I worked from 3:00pm - 12:00 am for a few weeks. He was not happy, but we worked out a routine. He actually got fed three times a day instead of just two. I fed him when we woke up, I fed him before I went to work and I fed him when I got home. I also left a light on in the livingroom and in the master closet. You know, in case he needed to see his way around. Sometimes I even left HGTV on...with the agreement that he wouldn't try to build anything while I was gone. So, here's what happened one day. I fed him and left on time, but I forgot something. I forgot to leave the lights on. Now, Lincoln has a way to let me know if or when he's upset. This was a n

As I was driving home tonight I saw a friend. He was amazing. I thought he'd gone for the season, but he stayed one night longer to see me as I journeyed home. The stars were out and the sky was deep blue. I was driving along with my headlights on and wondering where time had gone? The road was straight and the hills were few. I almost missed my glimpse of you. There was no left, there was no right, just trees and road were in my sites. But there you were, a light from heaven, sent to remind me I'm not forgotten. I've seen you in my little back yard, through trees and shrubs when it got dark. I almost stopped as if to say "Don't you know Fall's on its way?" You didn't care it was just you and I. You smiled as if to say  "Good night!" (My firefly song)

This is the fifty first published post of "Well, at Least there's that" and Lincoln wants his turn to talk. According to Lincoln... "I was rescued from a place where I was in a cage all day long. I was expected to give life, but never given a life of my own. I had lost all my beauty and was full of flees. Nobody wanted me and I wanted to run. I wanted freedom! I wanted to have my own choices. ' I was free, but I wasn't beautiful anymore. I was just a dog. My hair was long, I was afraid of everything and lifeless. I just wanted to escape. There was no hope! Then I was rescued! I still wanted to run, I mean, "who were these people, why was I here and what was going to happen next?" Then one evening a sad lady came to a camp fire and I stood beside her. I had no hope and I had no desire for her to "save" me. I just wanted to be free.  Somehow I saw hope in her sad face. I just feel drawn to her. Maybe I'll have the freedom

Some people are just a  “sucker for punishment“, or so I’ve heard it said. I guess that’s a way of explaining why people will make the same mistake over and over again. However, there is a flaw to that thinking. What if we do the same thing, but do it differently each time? Are we still a "sucker for punishment", or are we growing? So, here's a story of a time when I fell off my horse and you decide whether I was a "glutton for punishment" or did I gain something that can never be taken from me? I've never owned a horse in my entire life, but I've loved them beyond reason. Charlie was the last horse that I had the privilege to know. He was awesome! He was amazing! He was...as stubborn as a mule. There was this three mile trail ride and I wanted to go really bad, but I didn't have a horse. So, I was instructed that if I could get Charlie ridable I could go. Charlie was a cart horse and had raced in his earlier days of life, but at age 25 he