Love is in the Air

My love knows no bounds. I love my Misha unabashadly. Is that a word? It should be, maybe I am spelling it wrong. Misha is the cure for whatever ails me in the day. He wakes me up with a pat of his paw, we walk together, I pat him and talk to him and he looks at me, with eyes like a Carravagio painting. He loves me back. A perfect love where we never speak in English but just want to be together.
Misha has a new game. I take him out into the yard and give him a little chew toy. Then I pretend to grab it and he dashes around in circles, big circles, little circles...he runs with the treat in his mouth and he is smiling the whole time. Then he plops down as if to rest and I sneak up on him again and the dashes off circling the yard.
I sing to him all the day. "Misha is a friend of mine, he resembles Frankenstein, when the boys come out to play, Misha Misha runs away. " I call him Misha Bean, love puppet, little man. I make up new names every day.
He still never barks. He is the perfect dog friend. What have I done to deserve such happiness?

Misha in the Mist

The mist covers and surrounds our backyard. As Misha and I begin our walk in the morning it is as though we were adventuring into an unknown world. The grasses and bushes that are in the yard have disappeared. All around us is gray.
Misha is on the hunt. His body is taut. He is a receiver...receiving any signals that come his way. There are still noises and smells that the mist cannot hide. We move forward into it...and I forget that my feet are getting wet and I need to get ready for work.
At first we walk tentatively into the grayness. A bush appears, a tower of ornamental grasses, and we tiptoe on. Misha's senses are what I depend on to read our journey through the mist. He smells far more than I do, he hears far better. We are travelers together but he is the leader.
We round a bush and there is a rabbit about 4 feet in front of us. It is frozen in hopes of invisibility but Misha's eyes widen a little and he creeps toward it. One paw will raise and hold in that position for almost a minute before it slowly rests on the ground.
Our whole encounter with the bunny is probaby only 2 minutes before it whips away and disappears into the camoflage of mist. Misha relaxes...the moment is passed. He sniffs the air and leads me on to more adventures.

The Quiet Dog

Misha is a very quiet dog. He has been with us since May and I have only heard him bark 3 times. Once he whined to join me on a chair. The rest of the time he has been silent.
But he communicates with me constantly. The way he gives a glance, shrugs a shoulder or averts his gaze speaks volumes. I watch him often to learn what kinds of things he is telling me. Perhaps he decided that because I don't speak "Bark" and he does not speak "English" we should rely on a common language- silence.
I think he has made a very wise choice. I speak silence pretty well. My household when I was growing up was very quiet. We spoke at dinner time and when there was something thoughtful to be said. Every evening after dinner the house was quiet. One could do homework or read or think...but no noise. No music, no phones and surely no television was allowed.
Silence has its own repetoire. There are angry silences and thoughtful silences. There are peaceful and loving silences. I grew up reading my family and their silences as one reads a book. My father's silences were because he was thinking, creating, re-working words and his projects. My mother's silences could be soft and encompass me with love. They could also shut me out, it was her silence and I was not to intrude on it. She deserved time to be in her head without any of us in there with her.
Misha's silences are many. He rests happily in silence, he broods silently, he walks and adventures in quiet. His tail tells of his enjoyment in the task at hand.
I love needing to look at him to read his mood. His eyes flash, or caress. His body can twist in delight or can flatten in fear. Our quiet is a language of its own we are using to talk with one another.

And Back to Sleeping...

Sleeping is an integral part of my life. Oh, I know everyone sleeps. But some do not treat it as the art form that it is. Some folks even do it begrudingly "too much to do, too little time" and they soldier on.
My father was always an Olympic sleeper. As kids my brothers and I would tell him we were going to enter him in the Games and he would win, hands down..or eyes closed as it were. He would win the Gold in Olympic Napping.
I , of course have gone through different stages of sleeping as I age. As a child I always took naps and still do when my schedule allows. My naps were 2 or 3 hours, full of dreams and lots of REM sleep. And then I would get my full 9 hours of sleep at night.
Now, I am in bed at 8:00, asleep by 8:30 and up at 5:30. Misha shares my dedication to sleep. He naps after long walks, play time, and all day if it is raining outside. I am sure his sleeping is as restorative as mine. It is not just physical but mental exhaustion that makes sleeping so important to us. When we are awake (Misha and I) we notice everything; blades of grass, sounds of bugs and trucks, kids and cars. We notice squirrles on branches and mice on the run. We are finely tuned and nothing goes by our notice.
So, after some hours we need to rest, to download all the stuff that was uploaded into our brains in our hours of wakefullness. We sleep and upon waking we see a brand new world, full of possibilities and magic. We are ready to explore it once again!

To go or not to go...

Wikipedia states that the "bladder is a hollow, muscular, and distensible organ." Everyone has one. When one is young bladder control is an issue, thus toilet training for people and housetraining for dogs is a must. When talking about getting a dog I got lots of advice like "get a female, they can hold their bladder longer".
Apparently rabbits can be litter box trained and pigs can be housetrained which might make them desirable indoor pets to some. I know people end up with animals that pee in the house. They are often animals who have been rescued who have emotional and physical problems or animals whose owners never really got the knack of how to housetrain. Elderly animals as well as elderly people often have bladder control issues. I have a friend who puts her ancient Pomeranian in a diaper at night. Ridiculous? Well, perhaps not any more than putting your mother in Depends.
So, I got Misha thinking I would need to housetrain him. Perhaps I would keep him just in the kitchen and take him out on a rigid schedule. I was realy to go the whole nine yards. It has been 5 months since he entered our lives and I swear the dog has the bladder of a camel.
I take him out at 7:00 PM to pee and then not again until 6:00 AM. Once he went 15 hours without peeing because it was raining and he did not want to go outside. We should all be so lucky. I imagine his bladder the largest organ in his body. Maybe it is part of his mutt pedigree. He is a 20 lb. dog with a Great Dane bladder!

Misha - Zen Master

I grew up in the 1960's and 1970's so Zen was a concept I knew about quite well. Meditation was taught in small classes, large classes, night school and recreation centers. I was on the outskirts of the hippie generation. I tried to meditate many times but it never quite took hold. My mind could never be tamed and when I did it briefly, I was bored silly and stopped the activity immediately.
But now, with Misha, I have found my answer to meditation. We tiptoed out into our dark backyard at 5:00 this morning. I thought Misha had to pee,thus the trip in the shadowy grey of the yard. We walked stealthily through the wet grass and I realized we were not on a mission to find the perfect tree to pee on...we were looking for bunnies! Misha was on the alert. As we wandered the lawn I began to see the bushes and grasses, vegetable garden and hen house all emerge from the darkness. Misha was totally concentrated on sniffing out his prey. His focus traveled up the leash and to my arm, up my arm and to my brain. I was actually living in the moment.
He must have smelled a rabbit in a big bush because he came to a halt in front of it and sat down. He was focused and alert and quiet and just sitting. He stared in to bush and did not move. I pulled over a garden chair and sat too. I looked the other direction toward the light that was beginning to bring the day. I heard the little bugs and birds making their wake up noises. I found that I was not thinking about anything at all, I was just being there.
The difference for me was that I was not alone or with other humans. I was with Misha and he was not looking to see if I was sitting correctly or breathing correctly. He was intent on his interest and I could be intent on mine.

"Let Sleeping Dogs Lie" with me

There are those people whose dog sleeps on a rug on the floor, in a crate or under their master's bed. And then there are those of us who have stepped over a line. Our dogs sleep in the bed with us. They lie curled outside the covers at our feet. They lie on top of the covers next to us. Sometimes they are under the covers with their heads on the pillow next to ours.
Misha sleeps between Aldo and me in our bed. At times he curls at the bottom near our feet. In the morning however he has always inched his way up to my face. He nestles his nose under my chin and begins to lick me awake. There are few things that have ever pleased me so much. I love everything about sleeping with him.
I love to hear him sigh as he falls asleep at bedtime. I love feeling his weight against my leg or back in the night. I love jockeying for the most comfortable position as the 3 of us toss and turn. I love thinking of him first thing every day. The most compelling thing about it all is his desire to be with me. His satisfaction and contentment at just being by my side makes the world a better place for me to wake up to.