Tag Archives: love

My photography class started this week, and I was at a local park taking pictures for my first project.  The beautiful day brought many couples to the flower gardens, including this couple:

Spring Love

Spring is such a great time of year.  Life, in all of its color and energy, bursts forth, as we walk in the background, feeding off of its energy.

Sleep comes very naturally to most of us and in our family it isn’t uncommon to find many the beings fast asleep.  Below is a compilation of five images, each with at least one member of the family asleep, and two of the images (top and bottom) contain four family members snoozing.


With sleep come dreams.  Perhaps it’s the dreams that make sleeping so enjoyable.  I’m sure that Daisy, Franklin, Sadie have chased a rabbit or two in their sleep, and that Suki and Dino have captured the birds in the bushes outside the kitchen window more than once.

Or, perhaps it’s taking the opportunity – with those who you feel safe and love – to rest up for the challenges that we face each day.  Either way, may we all hold on to and pursue our dreams and enjoy the time we have with those we love.

Thanks to A Word in Your Ear for this week’s A Word A Week Photo Challenge: Sleep!

A Word A Week Photo Challenge: Old


Eleven years ago we got our first dog as a couple.  I still remember how excited, and scared, we were.  We named her Daisy Mae.

Gene Weingarten, in his and Michael S. Williamson’s wonderful book, Old Dogs: Are The Best Dogs, provides the following insight, leveraging an earlier reference to Kafka, on how we see ourselves in our dogs:

When we watch our dogs progress from puppyhood to old age, we are watching our own lives in microcosm.  Our dogs become old, frail, crotchety, and vulnerable, just as Grandma did, just as we surely will, come the day. When we grieve for them, we grieve for ourselves.

The meaning of life is that it ends.

Daisy’s become slower, can’t walk as far, and she can be a little crotchety.  When I think about her passing, I cry.  But when I come back to present and I see her lying next to my chair, or warming my side of the bed, I smile.  I think to myself how much I appreciate the gift of her life and how I cherish each moment, knowing that these moments aren’t unlimited.

Daisy is part beagle and part basset hound, and according to Wikipedia, a beagle has a life span of 12-15 years, and a basset hound 11-12 years.  If you add them up, I figure she’s going to live another 12-16 years!

Watching her grow old is one of the great pleasures of my life, and no matter how much longer she lives, she’ll be with us for the rest of our lives.

Responding to A Word A Week Photo Challenge: Old.

A picture of my wife.

The Luckiest Man in the World

In response to the Daily Post writing prompt on March 9, 2013.

Prompt: Who’s the most important person in your life — and how would your day-to-day existence be different without them?

Easy.  My life partner, Kami.  The one person who deals with whatever I do with patience, grace, and a smile.  She helps me eat a healthy meal, take care of myself physically, and shows me techniques to more effectively manage stress. She takes care of our family (currently two dogs and a cat), and she goes out into the world and does good things for people.

Most importantly, she’s taught me how to love and be loved. This is a lesson in which I sometimes need a remedial course, and she’s always there to instruct (whether she knows she’s teaching or not).

I can’t imagine life without her, and I try not take her presence in my life for granted. If we come to a place where she’s no longer physically with me,  she will always be a part of who I am, the luckiest man in the world.

The boy - Franklin - smiling

Franklin’s Love

Since yesterday was Valentine’s Day it seemed appropriate to write something about love.  Our dog Franklin has recently been in my thoughts and taught me a great deal about love.

When Franklin first came to us he would sit on the other side of the room.  He growled at Daisy, our other dog, he growled at us, and he tried to escape several times. He kept a wary eye on us even while eating his dinner.

Over time, he started to trust us.  First, he started sitting on the same side of the room with us, eventually joining us in the bedroom for a good night’s sleep.  He was terrified of thunderstorms and would come to us for safety. The last few years of his life he was known as Cuddlepuff, but only behind closed doors when no one else was looking.

He ensured that others kept their distance.  Lot’s of people tried to get close, but only a couple of family members experienced the nose bump – Franklin placing his muzzle under your hand and lifting his head up for a head rubbing.  To most everyone else he was an unconvincing tough guy.

Something happened to Franklin before he came to us that destroyed his trust in people and other dogs.  We don’t know what.  We do know that with time, and love, he was able to trust again.  He played with Daisy and cuddled on the couch.  And on rare occasions he gave my wife or I a smackeroo.

So what did Franklin teach me about love?  That even after you’ve been disappointed, hurt, or perhaps even abused, it is possible to trust and love again.  It might take some time, and maybe more than one try, but it’s possible.

What have others taught you about love?