Beltane Beltane Moon
I love dogs. Anyone who knows me or who reads this blog knows that. I love Gertie. You may not know Gertie, but she is one of our dogs, a German short-hair we picked up after her Denver home was no longer suitable for her.
(as you can see by this photo, she’s no ordinary dog.)
But, then again. Gertie keeps escaping. She did this in Denver and now she has figured out a way to do the same here. Real frustrating. When our other dogs escaped, we worried only about their safety. They were lovers, not fighters.
Gertie, on the other hand, got prodded and poked, teased by her neighbors in Denver. She got bit and incited by her crate mate Sollie. She lives with us now in harmony. However. She will not trust the kindness of strangers. She suspects strangers and will not hesitate to bite them. Not always, but once is too much.
When she escapes, we worry not only about her safety, but that of others. That makes containing her a priority. That means I’m back at it again, trying to outsmart the dog.
This puts me in the business of working with my hands. Frustrating. I get testy when I have to work with my hands because I’m not good at it, each move from planning to drilling to stringing wire challenges my capacity and I. Don’t. Like. That. Put that together with the frustration of repeated elopements. Let’s just say it’s not party time.
I had a plan. I executed the plan. Gertie jumped over my plan. Grrr. I modified the plan. We’ll see now. I have more plans. This is a lesson in something, zen stillness or inner tranquility or zoo keeper 101. The latter, I think.