Christmas greetings
We're in the Christmas season! The Saintly household is having a pretty good one.
I went to the Christmas Eve service, then to a get-together at the house of Bible-study friends.
I served at the Christmas morning service, a smaller crowd. That service was celebrated in the little-old chapel, and I really enjoyed it, then had Christmas dinner with my friends Michelle and Ken.
Here are Betsy and Elvis, waiting for Santa to show. Betsy is wearing Christmas finery, because she is my Christmas dog - my Christmas gift nine years ago, from the Holy Spirit, who led me to the next county north, where I found Betsy at the SPCA. She was just a little border-Collie Australian-shepherd puppy, stuck in a pen with some big bruisers. I took her home, and she's been a blessing ever since.
Every Christmas, Betsy has more white on her muzzle. Her spirit is as loving as always. The Best Dog in the Whole Wide World is what I call her.
Elvis is now at least 10 years old. I gave him to my mother for her birthday, when Elvis was just a teeny thing - small enough to sit in the palm of your hand, but full of personality. I think that was in 1998, but it may have been a year earlier. So, he's 10, if not 11. I took Elvis in five years ago when my mother's Alzheimer's got bad.
Elvis is still spry, and he's as full of himself as he was as a little kitten — non-stop personality. We'll talk about the diet in the next post.
Betsy and Jack the Brat settle in for a nap. Betsy snuggles in a squeaky teddy bear under her arm. She got it for Christmas. Betsy loves squeaky toys.
Jack the Brat, the baby of the bunch, is now 4 1/2 years old. He came into my life just before the devasting triple hurricanes of 2004 struck Central Florida. He had been injured, and needed care. The vet asked me to foster him, and, as she planned, I couldn't turn loose of him.
So, those are the "children" of the household, each special in his or her own way, and bringing delight.
Except for the time when I have to clean up yak, or diarrhea, or kitty litter kicked all over the floor, or something shredded all over the living room. But those are minor trials.
Life is so much fuller with these companions.
2 comments:
Love your "children", Pat. I had just finished therapy today when I drove to get a friend for lunch. I was pretty disheartened by having to do some heavy journaling and work. My friend was talking with her neighbor who has a dog trained by the prisoners at our "local" prison. It's a boxer mix - so I got out to pet the dog. I knelt down and she laid her head onto my chest and put one paw on my knee and stayed there while I put my head down on her and thanked God for giving me such a wonderful hug.
Great pet pix Pat.
My own little dog is sleeping right by my feet.
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