What I've been up to...

1. Playing with, potty training, and babysitting our new puppy Pola.

Story:  After years of wanting to find a dog similar in breed to my Gus growing up (see this post), we finally made the leap and got ourselves a little 7-week-old puppy.  We drove an hour and a half to pick her out and I studied all 9 puppies for 20 minutes trying to find just the right one for us.

I chose her because of her perfect little face and deep eyes.  My dad gave us this wisdom when we went to pick out a puppy.  "Just look at his eyes," he said.  And you will know.

Well, I did.  And I'm so glad Heavenly Father answered my silent prayers to pick the right one.  She's been perfect (and a lot of work and quite a handful all at the same time:)

She rode like this (see below) nearly the whole way home, keeping Maylie giggling.  And after awhile, I brought her up front with me on my lap and then down by my feet.

She is playful and sweet, a perfect combination of spunk and sugar.  She slept in a crate in our basement for the first 2 weeks and only whined for a few minutes when we would put her inside.  But after two weeks of taking her outside every 2 hours to use the bathroom, I began to feel a bit weary (that may be an understatement) and so yesterday, my sweet Patrick went to IFA and bought her an outside chain link kennel to use until we get a yard (which may be several months away) and a fence (which may be several years away).  He put it together perfectly and only got one battle wound from the experience.  Now he and Tate are twinners with their cuts above their left eyebrows.

So, all in all, we love her and are so glad she's here!

{Most recent picture from a couple of days ago}

2. Immersing myself in photography.

Story: Now that we're settled, I have been feeling the pull to get my photography business up and running here.  For the past several years I have been slowly building my portfolio and gaining experience.  And now I'm ready to take it to the next level.

So for the last little while I have been enrolling in a photography class, studying a photography textbook, talking to a friend who shares the same photography interests as me, reading hundreds of photography articles, honing down my own unique photography style, delving into photoshop to create my personal post-processing workflow, working with a graphic designer to redesign my website, and completely revamping my whole business.  It's going to be great.  And I'm so excited.

Iditarod and Tribute to Gus.

For the past week, Patrick and I have been staying up too late watching the "Iditarod: Toughest Race on Earth."

  

It has been a compelling saga of the 2008 race that pulled me in the instant it started.  We watched as 96 teams battled for speed and survival.  Only 70-something teams crossed the finish line without scratching.  It was a toss-up for who the winner would be.  I was secretly rooting for Jeff King or Martin Buser, the champs of several Iditarods, but Lance Mackey surprised us all with his trick plays and shocking stamina and came out as champion for the second time (being one in only 4 mushers to ever win two Iditarods back to back). 

I was kind of sad to see that there were no more season premiere's on Netflix. With a little more research online though, I found Lance to be the winner of 2007, 2008, 2009, and 2010.

I can't wait for March 5...when the Iditarod will begin again!

Watching these beautiful dogs in action made me remember my first dog Duke.  He was a malamute husky and one of the most gorgeous dogs ever to live.  But boy was he a spaz.  He should have been born in Alaska, for I think his destiny was to be a sled dog.  But somehow he ended up in our backyard with a little ballerina as his owner.  One day when I tried to walk him he took off at full speed--barreling me into an oncoming tree.  I guess I've always had an uncanny love for these dogs.

Me with Duke as a puppy

But my second dog was the best dog ever to live... 

We adopted Gus from the Humane Society. The lady told us she had found him by the side of the road in the middle of snowy January.  We went in with tempered expectations, but when we looked into his eyes, we just knew he was meant to be ours.  His eyes were beautiful teddy bear eyes and our hearts melted.  The task now was to bring him home and convince my Dad.  After some grumbling and mumbling like all dads do, he gave in, though he remained nameless for a few days as we tried to think of the perfect name.  I came up with Lucky, but no one liked my choice.  (I'm glad it was outvoted now too.)  Eventually my Dad found the perfect one--Gus...named after two heroes.  One was our beloved Gus Pike from the endearing Road to Avonlea series. 

The second was the lead sled dog on Iron Will who somewhat resembled our dog.  

 And Gus he was.

We tried to figure out what kind of dog he was.  Part lab?  Part German Shepherd?  Part Husky?  He was the color of a lab but built more husky and strong.  His ears flopped over and then when he got older one of them stood straight up.  His tail would curve into a crescent at times.  We just couldn't figure him out.  It wasn't until I recently saw (and sobbed through) the movie "Hachi" that I began to wonder if Gus had been part Akita.

  I searched for pictures of Golden Lab/Akita mixes and I found one that could have been a brother to Gus. (The only difference was both ears stuck up and were a tad bit longer.)  But the face is exact!

Online picture of an almost identical dog

Gus was one of my best friends.  He was like the brother I never had.  I loved Gus with all of my heart.  We would share ice cream cones and snowy days. We would run through the pasture together and I would rub behind his downy-soft ears.  Oftentimes after school I would go outside and just talk to him.  He always listened...especially when I would bury my face in his fur and cry about my little childhood heartaches and disappointments.

This is taken in our barn. Notice his floppy ear and his sticky up one. So cute!

(Taken at our cabin the year before he died)

I'll never forget the day he passed away.  It was sudden and tragic and a day that still haunts me.

We were driving to our cabin in northern Idaho and were about 45 minutes away when a huge thunderstorm broke out...very bad timing....Gus never liked thunder.  My dad pulled over to tie a tarp down over our things in the flat bed trailer.  Gus was tied to the trailer so he could barely look over the edge.  When my dad got back in the suburban, the rain started coursing down in a torrent.  After a few minutes I (who was sitting in the very back seat) felt a sudden jolt.  Looking out the back window I reported that there appeared to be a wet cat on the road.  And then it dawned on me.  It wasn't a cat...It was Gus.  We were traveling at 60 miles an hour when he fell/jumped out of the trailer.  I watched him drag himself off the road and out of the way of an oncoming semi.  My dad pulled over and instructed us to stay.  We sobbed and prayed and sobbed some more.  Not long after that, Gus passed away peacefully in my dad's arms and we buried him in the heart of the Teton mountains.

The memory still brings tears to my eyes.

And so this post is for all of the heroic Iditarod sled dogs who fight and work so valiantly in doing something they love.  This post is for my crazy dog Duke.  And this is for my beloved dog, Gus.

Someday we will adopt a dog for Easton and Tate--their very first.

And someday I hope I love this dog as much as I love you, Gus...because right now, my heart still aches at the memory of losing you.
You were the very best dog a girl could ever have.