It's Just a Dog...And that's what makes them so extraordinary, Part 5 ~ by Joanne Jaytanie

This series is about sharing a bit of my friends' lives with their dogs. In conjunction with sharing with you the role my dogs have played in my life, and how they have influenced the books I have written.

Marty, Gianni and Sophie

Friendships can blossom in so many ways. 

I bred two litters of puppies and finding forever homes for each of my pups was my first priority. I kept a legal-sized notebook and had pages and pages of potential homes. I interviewed every person. I wanted all of my dogs well cared for, to be part of the family, and most of all in a loving home. It was an arduous task. One filled with challenge, disappointment, visiting strangers’ homes, and turning many people away. I viewed each potential home as an extension of my own. I think you need an innate sense of people in order to find the gems among the pile. My guest today is one of those gems. In 2001, Gianni started out as a puppy home and over the years our friendship has evolved. 

Gianni:  I first met you by phone shortly after my beloved Cosette, a big black and rust girl, died of DCM (Dilated cardiomyopathy) at 4 1/2 years old. I was devastated, and my husband, Marty, said to begin the search for a puppy. He said he'd drive across the country to pick it up if it would make me stop crying. I wanted a health tested puppy being raised holistically with real food. The angel who loves dogs led me to you. I think your litter was only 3 weeks old at the time. We spoke by phone and you began sending photos. I loved what you were doing with them. Since we live about 600 miles apart, I didn't get to come meet them, but I fell in love with them anyway. I could (and will) write a book on how Sophie and then her brother Angus came to us and how absolutely extraordinary they were. Bless you forever for entrusting the two of them to me.

Marty, Sophie, Gianni and Connor

Me: Gianni took Sophie home around ten weeks of age. I kept a red boy, Captain, and a red girl, Anya. The rest of my puppies were placed by four months of age. All but one other red boy, who I named Parker. Parker was a precious dog, as were all my dogs. Parker lived to love his people and he did it with gusto. And as with all my puppies, he needed the right home. We turned home after home down. 

One weekend, close to Christmas, my husband and I packed up all our dogs in the van and spent a weekend driving out to a potential home for Parker. Deep in my gut, I knew this wasn’t the home for him, but the people kept calling and asking for him. So, off we went to meet these people and visit their home. That visit is a story of its own--which I will just sum up as…I should have never doubted my initial feelings and we returned home with Parker. For months I knew I’d already found the perfect home for Parker, I was just waiting to see if that home would want him. In the meantime, I continued my search.

My waiting paid off and about six months of age, Parker went to his forever home. I recall that day vividly. The picture is still burned into my memory of Parker jumping up on me and wrapping his paws over my shoulders--he was a big puppy. There were tears, lots and lots of tears. Placing puppies in their forever homes, if done right, is an emotional roller-coaster and two litters were more than enough for me…So, thank you, Gianni, for opening your heart to my boy, Parker, who became your boy, Angus. He was well loved.   

Me: Please share your history of the dogs in your life. 

Gianni: The first time I actually crawled as a baby was to my dad's black lab. He growled at me. He went to a new home. But I was born loving dogs (all animals really). My dad bred yellow labs. He promised me a puppy from every litter, but each time I would come home from school and my puppy would have been sold. In one case, given away to a half-brother. I swore an oath to myself that no one would ever have a say over my animals but me when I grew up.
  
Six months after I left home, I met my first Doberman. She smiled. I fell in love. Six months later I found my own. For all but maybe three years of the last forty-five there has been a Dobie beside me. As many as four at one time. I have two purebreds and a half-breed now. We've purchased four and have rescued six purebreds. Five of those were "worst case" rescues, dogs unadoptable or those slated to be euthanized. We have no regrets, tho, it was a more difficult path.

Me: What part do your dogs play in your life, and how important is the dog in your life?

Gianni:  My dogs are my children. I'm a professional homeopath with an office and I enjoy having a dog in the office with me. Sophie was my first and she truly owned the place. Multiple times she saw the inside of a human and knew exactly how to heal them herself, knowing when they needed her close or to just lie quietly and observe. It was really beautiful to watch when she saw someone emotional and offered to help them thru by laying her gorgeous head in their lap. She most especially loved people in wheelchairs and would drag me to them so she could offer her love. She was truly my life partner in every single way. That she chose me and convinced me that I needed a red dog was pretty amazing.

Me: Do you have any stories you’d like to share?

Gianni:  As a homeopath, I am often called on when things go wrong after conventional medical treatment. One of those times is with vaccinosis, especially rabies vaccinosis.

A client called one day when her young shepherd had been acting strange. He was fearful, defensive, becoming aggressive, hiding in dark places like under a desk, and his thirst and appetite had changed. His symptoms were steadily worsening, and they were considering euthanization.

In asking questions it came out that his symptoms began when he had a surgery (neutering) and the vet (without her permission) vaccinated him for rabies. I immediately knew what the issues were about. No vaccine should ever be administered with anesthesia. It's a recipe for disaster. I've seen several dogs succumb to. For whatever scientific reason, the effect of the anesthesia compounds the side effects of the vaccine.
  
I sent her antidoting remedies and we discussed dietary changes and supplements to help with detoxification. Within five days he was very significantly improved. For over a year we had to repeat the process occasionally, but with time and persistence he was eventually symptom free, to the joy of his people.

Me: What is your definition of the love you have for your dog?

Gianni:  My mother told me there is no such thing as unconditional love. Dogs taught me otherwise with their unconditional acceptance, loyalty, devotion, and, yes, what I believe is interspecies love.

Gianni is a homeopath with a thriving practice in Hamilton, MT. Her passion for alternative healing was fueled by her Doberman, Cosette, in the 90's. In her off time, she enjoys art, gardening, decorating, and spending time with friends.

You can find Gianni Here:
Gianni's Facebook Page
The Providential Doberman (Book) 

Me, Captain, Kes, Anya, Ralph

Dax and Misty (front row)

I can’t introduce you to one of my Dobermans today. Because there isn’t just one of my dogs this post relates to. It’s every one of them. Breeding two of my girls. Holding their puppies in my hands as they came into this world. Nursing them and raising them into beautiful, loving souls who shared their lives with amazing people. Cradling them in my arms when it was their time to leave this world.

 Maya and Tristan

Every day is etched into my being and has made an everlasting impression on me. I’ve grown and evolved with each dog. Meet people I would never have met. Experienced things I would have never experienced. I’ve spent a lifetime with a Doberman at my side, molding me into the person I’ve become, giving me the perseverance to put my fingers to the keyboard and create stories... Stories that so often includes a dog. Because really, what’s a home without a dog…it’s just a house.

Taisha and Misty

My 1st and 2nd Dobermans

Until next time…

Joanne  

Taste Bud Memories ~ Kristine Raymond #originalitybydesign

Taste Bud Memories There are certain foods that taste better this time of year than at any other. Take, for instance, Sweetheart Salad. One spoonful of this fruity, whipped cream concoction and I’m transported back to childhood; immediate and extended family gathered around the table for a holiday meal. Though it very well could be classified as a dessert, Mom served Sweetheart Salad as a side dish each Thanksgiving and Christmas alongside the mashed potatoes and gravy, green bean casserole, and crescent rolls. I’m awfully glad she did because having to wait several hours for this sweet treat would’ve been torture! In keeping with tradition, I prepare this delectable confection only around the holidays. Though I’m sure it would be tasty at a Fourth of July picnic, the memories that accompany each bite are so closely associated with Nat King Cole’s “The Christmas Song” and holiday lights and balsam fir incense that it wouldn’t be the same.

 Sweetheart Salad Add 2 cups of drained, crushed pineapple, ½ cup sugar, 1 ½ packages unflavored gelatin (in dry form), and 2 tablespoons of lemon juice in a saucepan and cook over low heat until the sugar dissolves completely. Remove from heat and cool. 

In a mixing bowl, combine 8 ounces of softened cream cheese and one 6-ounce bottle of drained, stemless, maraschino cherries and mix on low speed until creamy. Stir into pineapple mixture and refrigerate. Whip ½ pint heavy whipping cream until stiff peaks form. Fold into chilled fruit mixture being careful not to over mix. Spread into a 9 x 9 pan and refrigerate. Enjoy.

Two more seasonal favorites are Molasses Cookies and Snickerdoodles. For eight months out of the year, neither of these goodies get a moment’s thought, but when the mercury dips and the ground is blanketed by fallen leaves, my mouth waters in anticipation of sinking my teeth into a soft gingerbread-like or cinnamon-covered cookie.

 Molasses Cookies Mix thoroughly until creamy – ¼ cup shortening ½ cup unsalted butter, softened 1 cup packed brown sugar 1 egg ¼ cup dark molasses Add – 2 ¼ cups whole wheat pastry flour 2 tsp baking soda 1 tsp ground cinnamon 1 tsp ground ginger ½ tsp ground cloves ¼ tsp sea salt Mix until dry ingredients are fully incorporated. Dough will be sticky. Cover and chill for one hour. Preheat oven to 375. Shape dough into 1-inch balls and roll in Demerara or Turbinado sugar, placing cookies several inches apart on baking sheet. Bake 8-10 minutes. Let cool on baking sheet for several minutes before transferring to cooling rack. Enjoy.

Whatever seasonal treats you look forward to, I hope you’re able to enjoy them with those you love. Wishing you a joyous holiday season! 

 ~ Kristine Raymond

Guest Author Charles Lemoine #originalitybydesign

Welcome, Chuck! So glad to have you as a guest today.

Charles Lemoine

Charles Lemoine, is a Midwest transplant to the land of cactus, coyotes, and diamondback rattlesnakes. A traveler and collector of fine things, he met his better-half in the City of Angels. 

When he's not trying to save the world, one geriatric patient at a time, he spends his time drinking coffee, eating pizza, and playing with their three, adorable rescue-dogs. 

Having an interest in the arts, he also spends quite a bit of time writing and creating beautiful glass mosaic art pieces, the flashier the better. 

Mostly, he enjoys spending time with friends and family who share his sense of humor and are willing to laugh at the most inappropriate times.

An ancient mystery. A paleontologist searching for answers. A deadly web of lies. 

Dr. Mariska Stevenson has always felt a special connection to the ancient human remains found in the La Brea Tar Pits. Just like the source of her obsession, Mariska doesn't know her own past or where she came from. 

When remains are stolen, Mariska must risk it all in a dangerous game where people aren't who they seem and dark truths put her very life on the line.

Will Mariska succeed in discovering the truth about not only the remains but her own origins, or will the dark forces plotting against her ensure an ending that keeps the mysteries buried...forever?

Charles would love to hear from you!

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DREAMING is Free ~ by Kim Hornsby

I am a prolific dreamer.

If I wrote as much as I dreamed, I'd have worn off my fingerprints by now from typing.

Each morning, I wake and try to remember my last dream. I do this because my immediate mood is affected by what I was just experiencing in my dream. This morning I woke slightly amazed because my nephew had discovered how to fly. No one had ever tried this before and he was just brave enough to jump off a tower into the wind to discover if he put his arms out a certain way, he could fly, like skydivers without falling. Like going to one of those skydiving places with a wind tube at the mall. He was able to direct himself over to pick up a jacket he'd left at a park and come back. I woke impressed but worried for his safety.

Dreams are the result of an active hind brain that won't go to sleep when the rest of the brain shuts down for the night. Like an ADD child, this part of the brain keeps going, nudging the rest of you to pay attention. Playing with toys, essentially, while you sleep.

But what if outside forces could penetrate those dreams, your subconscious, to insert suggestions? Like in the movie Inception? Leonardo diCaprio was developing a way to insert suggestions into a business mogul's mind, taking dreaming to a whole new thriller level.

I love the mystery surrounding dreams. Like the weather, it's something that we all have in common whether we are rich people, dirt poor, athletes, housebound, old or young, everyone dreams.

It's with that in mind that I write books that mention dreams. In my Dream Jumper series, dreams are crucial because the heroes can enter other people's dreams and use that to solve a mystery and eventually do good in the world. I wrote this first book before Inception was a movie and thought I had a unique idea. And now, the first book in the series, The Dream Jumper's Promise, is optioned for film with hopes to begin filming in the next year. In my series, Moody & The Ghost, the hero, Bryndle Moody has gone blind but dreams with sight. She’s also a psychic so her dreams can be prophetic and meaningful. I often insert my dreams into my books. Look for a baby owl or a haunted house.

If dreams are metaphorical representations of our waking expectations, I now know I have some degree of concern over my nephew and his life. It's interesting to remember dreams, interpret them and move on to your waking life every morning.
Happy Dreams, Everyone!

Follow Kim on Twitter to read about her #strangedreams 

A Much Kinder Time ~ by Grace Augustine #originalitybydesign

photo: trussevents

When some of you see this, you are instantly transported to the sounds of SOUL TRAIN. The '70's. The best era ever, in my opinion, because that was my growing up years.

We didn't worry about locking our cars or our homes. The worst we dealt with in my tiny Montana town were the men on the street corners on a Sunday morning, sleeping off an all night bender in one of the local establishments.

The '70's brought so many wonderful things to life for those of us who call that era ours. My dream car was a Barracuda.

photos: Pinterest, classiccars.com

Ladies, how could we resist these dapper young men in their wide white belts, cords, and polyester patterned shirts, right?  

photos: Pinterest

And, guys, c'mon...I mean really. Look at this? These were some of the very best fashions the ladies were wearing at the time.

photos: Pinterest, Catie Cordero

In my small town of Cut Bank, Montana, there wasn't much to do. I was one of the lucky ones. The legal drinking age was lowered to 18 and my best friend and I took advantage of that most weekends.  I wasn't...and still am not...a beer drinker. My first drink was a Lime Vodka Collins. I graduated from that to Sloe Gin Fizzes, Tia Maria and gingerale, and settled on my then favorite rum and cola. (I know this makes me sound like a lush, but truly I wasn't. I was of legal age, never was drunk, knew my limit, and today, seldom/if ever drink.)

It wasn't uncommon for us to close down the bars and hit the Big Sky Cafe at 2 am to share a plate of french fries and gravy: still conversing, still laughing, still having a good time.

photo: TripAdvisor

My best friend and I knew one of our favorite bands was playing at one of our favorite weekend spots, so we donned our going-out duds and headed out. The place was packed with stumbling businessmen, Reservation residents, and a lot of rowdy oil men...all imbibing in their favorite beverage. I was enjoying people watching, sipping my drink. My friend, however, wasn't so lucky--two drinks and she was dancing on the table...literally!

The band played many hits from the era. During intermission, these band members came over to our table, sat down, and chatted. They did so during all of their breaks. All of a sudden I heard "Hey, why don't you guys come over for dinner tomorrow night?"  My head whipped around so fast. I'm sure I looked like Linda Blair in the Exorcist!

My friend had just invited six men... to my house... for dinner... before their Saturday night gig. MY HOUSE! Sigh! Well, I took it all in stride. They seemed nice (they could have been ax-murderers) so I thought why not. (Did I mention they could have been ax-murderers?)

I cleaned my apartment, cooked a lovely roast with all the trimmings, even homemade pie for dessert... and on schedule at 5:30 pm, the boys started filing into my apartment. I didn't know their names! (Ax Murderers, I tell ya!) 

I was fortunate these were very wholesome, handsome, talented guys who were polite, funny, and thankful for a hot meal. They took care of their dishes, each thanking me with a kiss on the cheek before leaving, and proceeded to the venue for their final show. (My friend who'd invited them conveniently had to work late!)

I finished cleaning up about the time my friend showed up, so I changed clothes and we headed out the door to go hear this band, whose lead singer's name was Ed. (I never did get the names of the others.) Well, Ed decided at the close of the night, he was teaching me how to shoot pool...which made my friend very jealous. She had a "thing" for Ed, but Ed chose me. He stood behind me steadying the cue stick and showing me how to shoot.  I remember my friend being so upset because his arms were around me not her...when all I was interested in was learning how to shoot pool!   I believe that night was the night for my first real kiss. **blush** (Yes, from Ed.) I've often wondered where the band landed, more importantly where Ed landed.

photo: 70's popphotos 

(this isn't the band, but it could have been since most resembled each other)

I'm not sure if there is a moral to this story... but, back in the 70's in small town Montana, we didn't have to worry about inviting strangers over for dinner. We didn't have to worry about locking our homes and vehicles, or having our mail stolen. It was a simpler time, an enjoyable time, a time where people went out, had face to face conversations, and shared stories and a laugh or two. It was the best era for many things: safety, clothing, friendships... and music. Always the music.