Honor thy Fuzzies

Today is the Feast Day of St. Francis, patron saint of my hometown and great lover and defender of animals. If you can make it to a Blessing of the Pets ceremony, like our local one, I recommend it.

Here are my girls ree-laxing. Retirement is a tough life, eh?


And here we have Miss Millie B. Doofus, SuperAgent of the Second Law of Thermodynamics and Supreme Leader of the People's Independent Republic of Bunnistan:


Winter beers have started showing up. It's a unique time of year, to have both warmth and cold, darkness and light, summer and winter.


In honor of my fuzzy companions, I'll leave you with several quotes from the Monks of New Skete:

Dogs don't seem to like fences. The very presence of a barrier often elicits a fury of protectiveness that otherwise wouldn't be manifest. A dog barking wildly behind a fence one moment can easily turn into a friendly pooch the next: All that is necessary is the dropping of the barrier... Might we not glean a lesson from this? At the very least, the barrier we bark behind can sabotage the depth we seek with those we love. Drop the barrier and a new level of relationship and trust might occur.

Dogs possess an indomitable spirit that teaches right up to their last day. It is as if they stubbornly refuse to concede that life can be anything other than a gift to which they must respond. The wagging tail gives it away: even an illness as serious as cancer has no effect on them when a favorite ball is involved... at least for a while. The focus remains fixed, and the usual enthusiasm will be manifest until they can simply push themselves no longer. They won't let go until every worthwhile moment of life is sucked dry. Therein lies their nobility: Dogs are an homage to life.