Leave the World a Better Place

They grow up so fast! How many times did we hear that expression when _we were the children? I remember my parents saying this to my aunts and uncles and now, its my turn. This year, my beloved nephew turns sixteen. He plays hockey, he's over six feet tall! How did that happen? Wasn't it just yesterday I was tying his shoe laces and taking him to see the "Knights in Shining Armor" at the Cleveland art museum? My niece, my darling, funny little niece with her very, long hair and chatter-box manner. She was the feather-weight that I carried in one arm as we walked into the big, snowy woods to share our first great adventure. Where did she go? I turned my back for just one second and a young woman appeared in her place. Technically she's still a kid - but at twelve she has now helped me to whelp two litters, taken three cross, country road trips with me and has successfully trained two of my horses.

I'm proud of the kids in my life but I demand to know what happened to those sweet little children that I used to know!

As we get older, we begin to mark time. Who knew? In my 20's and 30's the days flew by and I never noticed. If I lost an entire day or week, it was no big deal - tomorrow sprang eternal. Now I know. Time is more precious than gold, slipping right through my fingers. I can not grasp it. There is nothing that I can do...except enjoy the ride.

Wasn't it just yesterday I welcomed my sister's kids into this world? Clay was a month old when I saw him for the first time. He smiled up at me from his crib and our eyes connected and for one glorious moment - time stood still. What will that kid be when he is grown? Not even he knows, but I'm certain he'll add goodness to the world. The first time I met Caleigh, she was crying in her mother's arms. Silly me was afraid to hold her - I thought, "What if I don't love her as much as I do Clay?" One look into that beautiful round face was all it took to wash away my fears. With tears of joy running down my cheeks, I kissed her and for one brief moment, she was silent long enough to meet my gaze. With her little hand, she reached up and tweaked my nose and in that one second, I understood the nature of the ever-expanding heart.

The kids, my horses and my dogs, we are all connected. When I was young my mother used to tell us, "Always leave the world a little better than when you found it." Whatever they choose to do with their lives, I know they will fulfill the Smithwood code of honor.

A Mission All Their Own.

The Good Saints litter will soon be leaving for their new homes. I share my office with them and watch them by the hour as they tumble and play. They take turns as aggressor. They bow and invite an attack. They tease each other, play too rough, get pissed off and pin each other down. Two minutes later, they are piled on top of their cozy little bed, fast asleep, snoring, rolling onto their backs, chasing rabbits in their dreams.

Sure enough, as I peer over my laptop, I see my Cocker Cocker babies sleeping on their cozy beds. Right before my eyes they are turning into little dogs. Soon they will be in their "forever homes" and I know our time together is precious and coming to a close. Oh, how I am going to miss them. It is bittersweet to let these dear ones go and yet, I know their destiny is already unfolding. They have missions here on earth to fulfill. They will heal their humans' hearts. Each will add sunshine to a life that might otherwise be filled with too much gray. In their own way they will leave the world a little better than when they found it.

And I will sit back and enjoy hearing of their antics and adventures as they live out their lives with some special person who loves them even more than I do now.

Thank God For Good Owners - they Fly the Colors

In the days of the Crusades, Knights rode off into battle with flags and banners emblazoned with the colors of their King and Country. When I close my eyes and think of it, I see no more noble sight.

My best puppy buyers are like that. Whether they are walking one of my youngsters through an outdoor festival or letting their handler trot one of my beauties on the down and back of a festive outdoor show, I'm thankful for those who love their dogs of my breeding, well enough to show them off for the world to see.

As a breeder I understand just how important good homes are for my babies and to my program. As I struggle with the "You can't keep them all" realization, I am forever grateful to those who wish to have one of my darlings. Without them, I could not do what I love. As Bugs Bunny would say, "Ain't in the truth, ain't it the truth.."

Is that all there is?

Dogs have the power to heal hearts. If Love is sacred than Dogs are sacred too.

I believe that Dogs are a gift to us from our maker.


Can my little (American) Cocker Spaniel x English Cocker Spaniel cross puppies have a destiny more important than the complex yet facile world of dog shows?

Yes.

My babies - the puppies I call the "Good Saints Litter" will heal broken hearts in four corners of the globe.

Winning is _not all there is. Dogs were created to walk with Man for the sake of company on his long journey through the dark and frightening abyss of the great unknown.

Yes my babies have a purpose. So does every dog.

What Do You Think About Dog Breeders?

Many years ago - maybe it was just twenty - the expression "Dog Breeder" had a lofty ring to it. Maybe I was destined to be a dog breeder. Maybe I was "gone to the dogs" before I ever really knew what hit me - just like you..

But the people I looked up to as a kid were serious dog people. They bred dogs for show or for field work. They loved their dogs. Every waking hour was devoted to their dogs. Not much has changed...

Except the public's perception.

There have been puppy mills as long as there have been purebred dogs. They are a blight on our dog loving society but the average dog buyer doesn't seem to care where they get their dog so long as they get one.

How can we embrace the public, teach them about puppy mills and yet make them understand that like all people, dog breeders aren't all bad?

Why not use this post to sound off about puppy buyers, the media and the general public?

How can we keep our world filled with gorgeous, beloved purebred dogs without breeders? How can we keep the world filled with dogs at all if not for those who endeavor to create them?

What can we do to make the average pet owner understand that purebred dogs and the people who love them are at the very core of the solution to unwanted pets - rather than the problem?

If we are to save our sport of purebred dogs, we had better start coming up with a message the media loves. What can we do? How can we position our message?

Let me know your thoughts.

Out with the Old, In with the New - is it better?

In the farthest part of the barn, along the concrete wall that once served as the milking station for Griswold's dairy cows, rests an old sign that reads, "Ivy Hill." The sign is battered and rusted and broken right in half. Not original to the property, we think the name Ivy Hill came along sometime in the 1960's when the ancestors of "Old Man Griswold" died out and the property changed hands. By the time my sister bought the place in the early nineties, the new sign and name were already well-known to the area.

No longer a working farm, my sister's family works hard for the privileged of living there. My niece and nephew pitch in too - They do this willingly - they love the "farm lifestyle" and enjoy the land and the property.

Sadly, the last fifteen years have seen insurmountable growth to this area bringing with it, urban sprawl and a changing value system. Where once songbirds competed with cicada in the late afternoon, cars blasting bass rhythms loud enough to knock the flow blue dishes off the cupboard shelf is a common-enough sound at day's end begging the country dweller's question.. "Why do city folks move to the country if they miss the city so much?" If only they would turn off their stereos and learn to listen to the sounds of nature.... ?

As the UPS man tells the story, one day he was stopped in front of Ivy Hill Farm preparing to deliver a package. Behind him, a new car with a booming sound loomed. Impatient and without reverence, the lady driver decided to pass the UPS truck on the inside - between his truck and the Ivy Hill driveway. When she did this, she took out the old hand-painted sign and nearly killed the UPS man who was on foot and barely fell away in time. From his back in the marshy wet bed of Iris the UPS man watched as the old sign post smashed through the right side of the driver's windshield splintering its old sign into a thousand pieces before it fell under the wheels of a the Chrysler 300. Without hesitation or the slightest concern, the lady in the big car just kept on driving, leaving echos rhythms of Eminem in her wake...

Look out, we're going to be seeing more of this in the future. As an octogenarian likes to tell me, "The old ways are being replaced by the new"

Will it be better?

You tell me...

Poppies in Ruby Red - manure pile beauties

Can They Take Away the Flowers?

Filling water buckets for each pasture, I am lost in thought for our country and how removed from nature most folks have become. Watering the horses was once a simple, daily routine shared by almost everyone. Look around at older homes - while you still can. Do you see old, tall garages behind some of those houses? Most likely they were originally used to house the family horse. Today, restrictive laws regulate the number of animals we can have period. "Horses?", "What?" is what most legislators would say. Indeed, we are living in very different times than those of our forefathers.

Is progress always a good thing? When President Obama speaks of Americans needing to "tighten our belts" and driving more responsible vehicles, is he speaking for you and me? Is he speaking for the animal people? Does anyone in Congress know that a smart car can't pull a horse trailer (or haul dog crates) and that an entire way of life is dependent on inexpensive gasoline? Do they care? I'm guessing the answer is "No. We do not."

Walking back to the pump for another fill of water, I see a stand of poppies growing from an old manure pile. They are ruby red and brilliant. The beauty my eyes seek has nothing to do with hip and trendy. I do not wish to shop at Bloomingdales nor do I care what shoes are currently vogue and, although I have nothing against tennis, basketball or other sports featuring a ball, my idea of recreational fun has nothing to do with asphalt. All I want is the life that I have been blessed with. "Will it last?," I ask myself. With a certain sadness, I hear the answer - "probably not."

I think of World War II and all of the people like me, the ones who fought and struggled to preserve their animals and the animal way of life in spite of the fact that there was no money and food shortages often caused them to act in desperation. That we still have Welsh Ponies and Doberman Pinschers (and many other breeds of animals) is testimony to the success of those hallowed breeders of our past. But current times are different - we are so "advanced" as a civilization now. We have virtual worlds to occupy our time. In places like "Half Life" we can raise dogs and flowers without worry for responsible puppy buyers, cruelty to animals, skyrocketing food and gas prices... and political correctness. In a virtual world we can ride horses and hire someone else to muck their stalls. We can buy a designer dog and have someone else train it but will the experiences be the same? How could they be? A virtual world is just that - "Virtually real" ...almost real...

......not real at all.

Walking to the fence, I stoop down to smell the sweet, spicy scent of a little pink flower. Standing back up I notice my gelding Wings has come to the fence for a visit. Crawling over the fence, I reach my arms out for the warm embrace of his muscular neck that pushes against me. He hangs his head over my shoulder and I push my face into his mane inhaling the heavenly scent of horses. The experience is intoxicating. In our modern, real world it is rare for someone to have this experience.

In a virtual world, it is impossible.

Will the future have dogs and horses? Will there be flowers? Real ones that you can touch and smell? If our governing bodies make laws against how much land we can own, how many dogs we can have, how much gas we can use.. and if they dictate whether or not we can use our animals to create new ones - will our human experience be forever truncated?

Can they really take away our flowers?

Wings

A Farm by Any Other Name..

Ivy Hill Farm is my sister's place in northeastern, Ohio. The barn is the largest in its county. It stands in an area long known as the "Western Reserve." The property and buildings, like the area itself - is very old for America - dating back to the early nineteenth century. Once upon a time, Ivy Hill Farm was known as Sand Springs Farm. The man who built the place (in 1845) was a smart farmer by the name of Ira Grizwold. He used the natural spring to bottle water for medicinal remedy. I have not done the research to support my theory but I betcha he was right. The minerals flowing from the spring probably were good for those who drank its waters.

Yesterday it was Sand Spring Farm, today it is Ivy Hill. Whatever name it goes by, the feeling evoked from standing still is very old, deeply connected to the earth. I like to stand on the middle of the farm and close my eyes. Listening to the birds overhead, feeling the breeze blow through my hair - I like to "go back" to the time when this was a working farm with nearly a thousand acres of cows, corn, wheat, chickens and horses. Is it my imagination or can I really hear the happy, sweating workers as they go about their days' work? "It's probably just the breeze" I tell myself but I could have sworn I heard someone say, "Yo, swing open the gate" and my inner eye opens to the sight of a pair of Drafts backing in unison towards the plow... the whinny of a pony wakens me from my daydream and I am faced with nothing but an empty lane..

Lucky

My niece is a total animal freak - "Whew" was the collective expression uttered by my sister and me when the kid took her first steps towards becoming a real animal person. "Oh good, she is expressing her "animal genes," said we with a laugh. But really, in our modern society with so many things competing for the attention of our children, it is no small thing to see any kid "out there" mucking stalls, reading horse books, learning the disciplines of riding - or just wanting to know the difference between a Thoroughbred and a Quarter Horse.

Dressed in knee-high rubber dairy boots, my hair pulled through a ball cap and my sweatshirt covered in muddy paw prints, horse hair and a little hay, I lean on my pitchfork and soak up the atmosphere and am reminded of a favorite poem. "Lucky means finding holes where pockets aren't. Lucky's to spend laughter, not money. Lucky are breathe, grow, dream, die, love - not fear, eat, sleep, kill and have. You am lucky. Is we lucky, luckier, luckiest." I know this is true and I know that all my friends who endeavor for the sake of a life with animals - feel the same way. "Lucky, luckier, luckiest."

Family Circle

Once a year my sister's family goes to Florida. Since our Welsh Pony breeding operation is a joint venture, we cover for one another when travel takes any of us away from our farms. June was my month to tend to the horses at Ivy Hill.

What one learns from working another person's farm is how different we are - and yet, our goals are so similar. "Get the horses fed." "Meet the needs of the animals." Horses are creatures of routine and the Ivy Hill creatures are no exception.

Each morning, I wake up well before dawn to care for my own critters before leaving for Ivy Hill but my sister's horses are used to being fed seriously early. Arriving at the farm by 7AM, the Ivy Hill herd is impatient. If you work around animals long enough, you learn to communicate (and hear them) without talking. Stamping their feet, ears back, necks snaking forward - they are annoyed. Horses are Noblemen and see we humans as their servants. "How dare she feed us so late," they seem to say. As quickly as I can, I feed, water and turn out and over the next two hours, the Lords and Ladies of Ivy Hill are content once again. Happily - as creatures of habit, horses are able to adapt and within two days they know my schedule and everything is bliss. Nonetheless, every day I am greeted with a "How about that grain" whinny and all eyes and ears focus on me as I set up the grain and pull down the hay.

What is bliss? Hanging out in a dry barn listening to the sound of six horses munching away on their breakfast.

Smithwood September Rain at his First Dog Show

Smithwood September Rain at 7 months old - Reserve Winner's Dog at the ECSCA National Specialty under Mary Ann Alston - yep, sometimes you just know!

Sometimes You Just Know..

Sometimes, you just know. That's what I like to say about this puppy. His name is Rain, September Rain - because he was born in September, in the rain. His namesake is an old Jazz standard sung by Sarah Vaughn. When Rain was very small, I held him in my hands and a tingle went up my spine. I just knew that this puppy was going to turn out to be something very special. Experts came to the house. They looked at the babes. They said he wasn't the one but the older I get, the more I realize that I really should listen to my own judgment because... sometimes, you just know.

The Baby in the Family... (shhh...he's the favorite)

Little Superfly was the favorite in the family. His personality was so huge - we knew he would have to have a very special person. He found his true calling with a nice lady he calls "My Linda." We still see Superfly quite a bit. He is "a beloved pet and a show dog incidentally" as our friend Kate likes to say. You'll see more pictures of Superfly on this blog - he's a one in a million puppy that wiggled right on into our hearts with the very first breath he took.

Oh Those boys!

You know, it really is true -- you just can't have dogs unless puppies are born. What would the world be like without any puppies? I sure hope I never know.

......My niece and nephew are a large part of why Dale and I moved back to my childhood home. I never had kids of my own so maybe I was the last one on the planet to realize how special they are. I treasure these children and take great joy in sharing the old Smithwood property with them. They love it as much as we do.

Here's the man who makes my life possible. This is my beloved husband, Dale. He builds the fences, fixes the barn doors so they swing, hammers the foundation back in place, fills in the holes that the spaniels dig in their endless pursuit of China and a hundred other odd jobs on any given day. Here, Dale pauses from installing my special paddock that is attached to my little writer's shack. If you're drinking as you read this, give a nod and a toast - Hey Dale, here's to ya!

A World Without Puppies??

Aren't they sweet? They are the very essence of Smithwood. My dad used to say, "What good is life if you can't share it with a dog?" Indeed. The puppies in this photograph are Smithwood Sweet Lorraine and Smithwood Superstar. They are four weeks old in this picture. This was their first outing. God bless them. They are the light of our lives.