Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.
~ Maya Angelou
Happy Valentine’s Day.
Animals
Looking for A Valentine Gift? (Maybe with a French Bulldog?)
With Valentine’s Day coming, people are already beginning to think about what to buy someone special that’s a little different than the usual. We’ve all had our fill of candy and flowers, and while jewelry is OK, a lot of us have all we need, plus it’s extravagant. So how about something practical, not ridiculously expensive at all, and – if I say so myself – pretty adorable. Yes, I’m talking about my French Bulldog journal.
I’d introduced this journal prior to the holidays and granted, it isn’t the most Christmas-y of designs. (In my defense, I’d actually started in early spring of last year, but that’s another story.) Now, however, my little Frenchie baby holding a string of hearts is right in time for Valentine’s. On the back is a pencil sketch I drew of a French Bulldog pup that skyrocketed in popularity on Pinterest; I am hand signing the drawing in case you’d like a print of my art to frame, sit on your desk, or whatever.
Please check out my French Bulldog Journal in my shop on Etsy where you can see multiple images – close-ups, the back, and interior. My printer did an excellent job of printing and binding, and it’s such a nice quality item that won’t break the bank. So let’s see … who do you know that journals? Who do you know that loves Frenchies? Or maybe even just dogs? Or maybe … who’d appreciate a thoughtful gift from you.
Alternatively, maybe you’d like to send a notecard to someone at Valentine’s to let them know you love them and are thinking of them. Have kids? Maybe they’d like to send one to Grandma. The artwork of a mischievous Frenchie pup eyeing some cookies is, of course, also mine, and I can’t help but think 
that you have a few people who would smile at the arrival of this card. Or maybe you’d like to give a pack as a gift? (Baking cookies is in season all year long.)
OK, I’ll get off my little sales platform now, but one of the things I’ve learned is that if you don’t tell people what you have/can do, they’ll never know! I spent a lot of my life not opening my mouth about the things I could do, and I’m still not terribly good at self-promotion, but am working on it. So there’s another reason to get a journal or cards – encourage me! I know, that was shameless, but please do stop by my Etsy shop and see what’s there. And thanks!
It’s Small, But It’s Something
People often ask me if I put up a Christmas tree. I used to put up a beautiful live tree each year, but haven’t in a while. Time being one of the reasons, but over the years, pets became another reason. Have pets influenced your decisions about a tree?
A friend and neighbor, in the face of my treeless status, offered me a small one she had and no longer used. Of course, I have a bazillion ways to trim it collected over the years, but I also had easy access to a few things. There it is, on my oak bench where I can enjoy it when I journal, read, or soon … write rather late Christmas cards.
A very dear friend of mine has a saying which I have now incorporated into my vernacular – “Something is better than nothing.” And indeed, I find it true. It’s small, but it’s something. I find myself fairly mesmerized by this little stranger which reminds me of many Christmases gone by. I like just sitting near it. Funny how deeply ingrained our memories can be.
The good thing is that Jazzy, unlike previous pets, has not decided to pull it over or de-trim it. The first of my beloved pets to have me reconsider the wisdom of having a tree was Mewsette. As is true with many felines, she did her best work at night, and every morning I would come down to find at least the bottom tier of ornaments missing, some broken. OK, let’s just put unbreakable ones on the lower branches. It minimized breakage but didn’t affect one iota my having an ornament scavenger hunt each morning. The final result? Nothing detachable at the bottom of the tree. Not very pretty.
Then we had Chloe, one of my pair of sweet pittie girls. Chloe was determined to see if she could possibly squeeze in the corner behind it. I would come into the room with her shmushed behind the tree, tail wagging off ornaments. Nothing I could do would discourage her efforts. Yet another strike against the concept of having a tree, especially on the occasion when she knocked it over.
Shut the animals out of the room, you say? Who wants to be in the living room, tree all aglow, without your fuzzy ones to keep you company? Or chase them in and out? Eventually, I just gave up. There have always been little spots of Christmas all over the house which, on the whole, none of them ever paid any mind. But this little tree? Perhaps it is my toe into the waters of real trees.
Or maybe this is just perfect for me.
Kindness Goes A Long Way …
One of my favorite Christmas/holiday videos. Thanks to our friends across the pond at the RSPCA. Brilliantly and lovingly done.
The Mayor
Pumpkin can be one tough customer. Cats tend to have a lot more rules than dogs to begin with, but Pumpkin has serious rules, especially regarding where you can touch him. And sometimes even when.
He belongs to the people next door, and is an indoor/outdoor cat. At night, he’s in their garage with his bed, food, water, litter. Days, he’s out. Let me state first that he has me totally wrapped around his paw. And that’s OK by me. I put food out on my back porch during the day and when he’s let out of the garage, he gets breakfast, and later in the day, a snack or lunch. He can be very affectionate at times. He likes attention … until he doesn’t. And I have become finely attuned to that subtlety.
When he was younger and feeling his best, he ruled the neighborhood. Roamed about making sure any other cats knew who was king. I call him “The Mayor.” But he’s now 12 or 13, and stiff in the joints from age and a run-in a couple years ago with some kind of moving vehicle. He recovered with a limp and just kept on going because he’s that kind of cat. Now, however, we have some new cats in the neighborhood – they’re younger, bigger, and pushy. I have some concerns about Punkie because he still thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips, and I’m not so sure that’s true.
On occasion, I hear that loud rowwwwwr sound we know cats make when one is challenging another. Because I work from home, I can usually hop outside and chase the intruder away, if Pumpkin hasn’t already. The other night was one of those times.
It was nearly 7 pm, dark, very cold, with winds about 25 mph. The people next door hadn’t gotten home yet to put him in, but I expected they would be soon. I was reading when I heard that keening sound. I jumped up, put on the back porch light, and headed down my driveway to the street. There they were, three of them, like points on a triangle – Pumpkin, Yellow from across the street, and the tuxedo newcomer who’s been pushing up on Pumpkin lately.
“What’s going on here?” I yelled in my most taking-no-nonsense voice.
They turned and briefly looked at me, but not moving an inch or taking their eyes off one another for more than two seconds.
“You!” I shouted to the tuxedo. “Get going!” He knows I mean business, and ran down the street.
“You, too, Yellow!”
Yellow just stared at me.
I took a few steps into the road and yelled again, “I mean it!” And he ran back to his house.
I turned and started towards my back porch. “C’mon, Pumpkin, let’s get you fed and safe and inside for the night.”
Still puffed to twice his size in fight-ready mode, tail held high, he looked at me as we walked. “I sure showed them,” he said with a satisfied sort of look on his face.
“Yeah, tough guy, you sure did.”
Still A Dreamer 