Floating Safe Place

Above – Madi (bottom) and Mini (top) dreaming of days filled with toys, treats, and work.

I do not ‘fit’ into one safe place…yet. I’m still searching for that.

However I do have a ‘floating’ safe place as long as Madi, Moo, and Mini are with me.

Madi – she’s a carbon copy of myself. She’ll be 8 years old this month and I’ve been lucky enough to have her since she was a puppy. She’s a black tri herding dog mix. She was an unexpected gift; the product of an unexpected litter of pups at my sister’s house. Father is a smart Australian Shepherd/Australian Cattledog mix. Mother is a playful, carefree, snuggle Border Collie/Pit mix.

She makes humans and dogs alike work to earn her attention, respect, and honesty. She’s bossy, independent, opinionated, a perfectionist, semi-social at best, and offers the highest level of energy when she’s happy. Her tail is consistently wagging – expressing her satisfaction of my quest to make sure her days are filled of wag worthy experiences.

Madi has taught me patience, unconditional love, and what it feels like to have a gift so great that there’s no way I could ever do enough to deserve. She instantly taught me to be more simple and less complex.

She’s my trial and error dog – she’s the first dog I trained. First dog I put in the agility ring. The first dog who taught me the relationship between a dog and a human. Taught me the importance of body language. Taught me the success teamwork can produce. Taught me that agility is not about the jumps, weave poles, hoops, tunnels – it’s about those 30 or so seconds that we get to spend together. Just the two of us. The gift of time together.

She’s my strength through the good times and the bad times. Without her, working through death of loved ones would be impossible. Without her, good days wouldn’t exist. Every day would just be a day. Each day with her gives the day meaning and purpose – my reason to live. Truly live each day.

Mini – she’s everything opposite of Madi and I. She’s my ‘No Moo’ opportunity. She’s a blue merle 4-year-old Australian Shepherd that I rescued in January 2018. She’s carefree, playful, affectionate, loves to be worked, instantly trusting, wears her heart of her sleeve, is fearless, and over curious. She’s the most driven and fastest straight speed dog I’ve ever been honored enough to own. She too is in the works to become another trial and error dog – in the agility ring, at home, in the truck, in hotel rooms, at dog parks. Location doesn’t matter – she always teaches me.

Mini challenges me to be more creative and seek out new resources to help her reach her potential. She’s a consistent reminder that a dog can only be as close to its greatest potential as its human will allow.

In nine short months, Mini has taught me to take the risk of loving again. She’s responsible for picking up the pieces of my heart – the pieces that were shattered after the unexpected passing of Moo.

As hard as it is to love again, Mini makes it easier. As easy as it can be. Mini needs me almost as much as I need her.

The tears drip down my cheeks as I write this knowing full well that part of the process of getting to a solid safe place is to release the ‘No Moo’ opportunity details that lead to Mini. Those details will spill out of me once again over the next couple weeks.

For now, Moo rests peacefully in a box next to our bed, in her birthstone ring on my finger, and next to my heart as I wear a handmade piece of jewelry everyday in her honor.

‘Floating’ safe space starts with solid foundation of my immediate family – Madi, Moo, and Mini.