Tag: writing

Home for the Howlidays: When the Pack Comes Back

I can always tell when something big is about to happen. The house smells different — a sweetness in the air like cinnamon sugar mixed with a faint whiff of anticipation. My hooman makes many trips inside and out, bringing in bags and bags of groceries. So many snacks that she has to store some on the back porch. Luckily, Michigan is basically one giant refrigerator this time of year, so we have plenty of space — bring on the treats!

I take my position on my stool to monitor the driveway. I don’t need a tracker or pinging reminder — I can feel the joy filling the air. When the cars rumble down our drive, the vibration sends excitement all the way to my tail. And when that door finally swings open and I hear, “I’m hooooome!” the house explodes with noise. I leap as high as I can, trying to get a lick at my brothers. The once-empty mudroom fills instantly with coats, boots, and shoes — all carrying new scents from the places they’ve been. Boxes and bags pile up behind them, signaling something even better than treats: the pack is back!

Magically, the house transforms in an instant, and I’m surrounded by all my favorite hoomans — all barking at once. It’s my favorite sound in the world. Tail-wag mode flips to maximum power, and my whole body wiggles. I’m smiling so big I can’t keep my tongue from spilling out.

But this year, things are a bit different. The pack… has grown.

My old sweetheart came home with my brother. She looks cuddlier than ever — and with her comes Disco. He’s all legs, wiggles, and unstoppable enthusiasm. He zooms in like a giant snowstorm and makes a beeline for my toy basket. He always chooses my favorite bone first. I’m overjoyed he’s here… but that is still my bone. A slow growl bubbles up in my belly, but I swallow it down.

Soon, the living room is a swirl of fur and toys. The house feels smaller (in a good way), and I push the irritation of sharing aside. Before long, Disco and I are chasing each other around the dining room wall. We romp outside through the snow, and I take him down my favorite hiking trail. I teach him how to sneak extra treats, and he shows me how to give a paw for extra “awwww.” The hoomans cannot resist us, and honestly… it’s more fun melting their hearts with my buddy beside me.

Later, when the house finally quiets, I try to squeeze onto the couch. Between my brothers, my sweetheart, and Disco, there’s hardly any room left. Disco has claimed my favorite pillows. I flop onto the floor with a dramatic sigh, feeling a little forgotten.

Just then, my sweetheart notices. She scoots Disco over and pats a spot on the couch. “Come here, Jack Jack,” she whispers. I jump at the invitation — and instead of the arm of the couch, I choose her lap. She’s just as warm and snuggly as I remember.

As I drift off to the sound of holiday music and hooman laughter, I replay the day. My paws twitch as I dream of racing through the snow with my supersized pack. The chatter of my favorite hoomans fills the house, and I hear Disco snoring softly. That’s when I realize…family doesn’t just come home for the holidays. Sometimes… it grows.

So friends, as your pack reunites for the howlidays, you may find you have to give up some of the things you’re used to. Just scooch over and make a little space. I don’t love sharing my bone (or my couch), but when the family grows, we have to grow too. Things won’t stay exactly the same as before — and honestly, they might become even better.

Soon enough, the house will fall quiet again. The mudroom will return to order without all those extra coats and shoes. The pack will split up and wander down their individual trails. But the memories of squeezing together and making room for new love will warm your heart long after the twinkly lights fade.

When the pack gets bigger, the love gets louder.

I hope your couch is full this howliday season.
I’ll bark at you in the new year.

Your friend,

Falling Behind

Happy October Friends!

This is one of my favorite months. Mornings are cool on my paws, but by afternoon, the sunshine warms my coat. Big oaks shoot down acorns like pellet guns for eager squirrels, and evenings creep in early — often before I’ve finished my after-dinner patrol.

October is funny that way – both hurried and hushed. Weekends roar with visitors from the big town, cars piled high with apples, pumpkins, and hay bales, only for the streets to fall quiet again midweek. Farmers follow a different rhythm: fields grow inch by inch under patient hands, yet when harvest comes, their work bursts forward, rumbling through the night and leaving the morning air sharp and crisp. Time seems to stretch and snap back all at once.

With all this paradox swirling around me, I needed to curl up on my cushions and think this all through. As my mind began to drift, I could hear squirrels rustling nearby — some frantic, some leisurely — each with their own rhythm. Similar to the trees, that let go of their leaves in their own time.

All that slow-and-steady push and pull reminded me of when I trotted alongside my hooman in the Oktoberfest 5K. My first big race. I was so excited that I watered just about every tree in the park. The music thumped, the energy crackled, and I stood side-by-side with my pack, unsure what to expect. The countdown began: 3…2…1…GO!

Some hoomans shot out of the gate like greyhounds, their long legs eating up the track. Since I’m a terrier-beagle-blue-heeler kinda dog, my legs moved, but I wasn’t covering much ground. My hooman seemed fine with the racers ahead, and soon we settled into a steady jog.

As the miles went by, I noticed that some pups slowed to a walk, then picked up again once they caught their breath. No two strides looked the same. Hoomans on the sidelines barked, “Keep going!” and “You’re doing great!” — which made my tail wag. I realized then that we’re all in the race together, no matter the pace. Each of us found our own rhythm and our own way to finish. No one was “late” just because they weren’t leading the pack.

I think that is October’s lesson for us, too. It’s okay to move at our own speed. Not racing to keep up. Not holding back when we’re ready to leap. Just trusting our stride, savoring our season, and remembering that what’s right for me may not be right for the dog beside me.

So friends, as we wag our way into October, let’s not worry if we fall a bit behind. Instead, let’s take cues from Mother Nature and the racecourse. Trust that our pace is the right one. Some days bounding, some days strolling, sometimes paw-sing for a good sniff — but always remembering: the goal isn’t to keep up with the pack. It’s to enjoy the run, the season, and the moment. 🍂🐾

Thanks for trotting along on my canine adventures. I’ll bark back atcha in November!

Your friend, 

The Road Less Sniffed

Well friends, I did it. I went out on a limb and sniffed out a new adventure. I wasn’t sure at first. I double-backed a few times. The road less traveled can be uncertain. I’m used to going down my own path. I know all the twists and turns, where the roots are that have tripped me up. I know where the creek runs deep and where the current likes to tug at my paws. I’ve been taught to be careful, to stay on my side of the fence (unless no one’s watching, of course). So, the idea of stepping into the great unknown? A little scary… but also wildly exciting.

I felt like something was calling me—a bark in my heart that beckoned me to explore the unknown. So I started out slow. I kept looking over my shoulder to make sure the familiar wasn’t too far behind. In my head, I heard the voice of my hooman, cheering me on with that magical phrase she uses when I’m searching for my ball:
“Keep going!”

So I did.

Soon, I found myself alone in a whole new world. The creek began to change and looked drastically different. My belly was jumping like I’d swallowed a bowl of grasshoppers. What if I got lost? What if there were squirrels bigger than me? But curiosity tugged harder than fear. What if I discovered something brand new?

That’s when a flash of red zipped across my path—a scarlet tanager! I didn’t even know those birds lived around here. Its bright feathers were like a spark in the trees. Inspired, I forged ahead, tail high, paws steady.

Eventually, the forest opened up, and right before my eyes—was a luscious green meadow buzzing with dragonflies. My nose twitched, my tail wagged, and just as I ready to pounce on one of those ancient warriors… my ears perked. A sound. Could it be…?

Water.

I can never resist water.

I followed the squishy, muddy trail—my paws sinking deeper with each step—and that’s when I found it: a freshwater spring! Trickling down a slope of roots and rocks, cool and clear as a morning breeze. It was the best water I’ve ever tasted. No bowl could compare.

As I stood over the spring, my muzzle full of mud and belly full of refreshing water, I realized: if I hadn’t taken that first uncertain step… if I’d stayed in my comfort zone… I never would’ve found this delicious treasure.

Trying something new can be scary—but not trying? That’s even riskier. Because you’ll never know what’s out there unless you go sniff it out for yourself.

So friends, as we close out July and trot into August, let’s take the road less traveled. Try a new trail. Chase a new scent. Step beyond your fence line (only if no one’s watching, of course). You might discover something wonderful. You might even discover something in yourself.

And if you get a little lost? That’s okay. You can always find your way home.

I look forward to hearing about your new adventures. Stay cool, and I’ll bark at you soon.

Your friend,

Lead Dog

Hello friends!

The calendar flipped a page to December and overnight winter arrived true to form. Old man winter blew into town and filled my woods with ice and snow. My world was repainted WHITE and I could not wait to go exploring!

Since I am a pretty social canine, I prefer exploring with my hooman. So as soon as she peeked an eye awake – I began my tap dance around her bed in effort to hussle her out the door. She was not as excited as I was to go out in the cold. As she pulled on extra layers and covered her paws, I kept up my enthusiasm. I added in some whining, wiggles and jumps in hopes to hurry her along. Once we finally got outside I bounced and burrowed through the fluff. I only had a few good zoomies around the yard before my hooman turned back toward the house. What the heck…this was not an all day winter adventure I had planned!

My hooman headed back indoors and peeled off all her layers. She then got herself a drink and settled in with her google machine. She was going to WORK! I knew that if that was the case…I had some work of my own to do. I positioned myself in front of her and began the DEATH STARE. I sent her telepathic messages with my eyes – “outside outside outside”. Only she didn’t budge.

After a while, I musta dozed off because the next thing I knew it was dark outside. It seems to be dark almost all the time now. This is a REAL problem for me since I like to do my exploring in the daylight. The next day brought more of the same. My hooman at the computer and me on the couch willing her to finish work and play outside with me. When the weather man announced the snow would be melting soon – I began to panic. The only way I’m going to enjoy the snow is if I take myself out. Time for me to take the lead! 

So, I shook off my anxiety and took matters into my own paws. Out I wandered alone into the forest. I was unsure at first. The snow covered trees cast new shadows and there was an eerie silence throughout the woods. As I turned down the path I scared up three whitetail deer (and they scared me too)! I watched their white tails bounce down the ravine and realized I was not the only explorer out today. There was a whole world of adventure awaiting me!  

I carefully hiked down the icy trail and began exploring. I wandered over to the creek and witnessed the current pushing its way through the ice. I stopped by my favorite thinking log and met a new family that moved in for the winter. And I poked my head in on some old friends, just to say hello.

By the time I returned to my yard it was getting dark again and rain was beginning to sprinkle. My hooman greeted me at the door and dried my paws. As I curled up on the couch and began to doze, I could hear my hooman tapping away on her google machine along with the rain tapping against the windows. 

So friends, as we turn the page to the last month of the year – it is time to take the lead. If there is something you want to accomplish before the year ends, the time is now!  Be brave, take the initiative and make it happen for yourself. Do not wait on others to do it for you, rather bring them along on your adventure – the more the merrier!

Bark at you in the New Year!

Your friend, 

P.S. Check me out on the social scene. Follow me on Facebook and Instagram and see what I am up to throughout the week! And if you missed any of my past adventures – you can find them on my homepage. Thanks for visiting!