Three Years

Three years ago today, my parents and I brought Charlie home to the DC 'burbs and began a love affair that has only deepened as we've learned how truly strange, sweet, and silly our dog is. That love has expanded to include Jon and their bond is even more than I could have hoped for. The three of us feel like the most complete family, but the responsibility and joy of having Charlie also makes it easier to picture the hazy someday - not any time soon, but someday - when we're four.

Happy gotcha day, Charlie. We love you!

Happy Birthday Charlie - Love Jon

As I write this, our (almost) four year old black Labrador is splayed out across our hard wooden floor, watching me intently as I type in my study. He has the option of two dog beds, one human bed (yeah, we tried to keep him off at first), one armchair, one large sofa and three rugs on which to make himself comfortable, but he chooses the hardest surfaces he can find for himself. Why? Because he has mastered the victim complex; despite a life of fulfillment, luxury, and the presence of numerous hard-working adults prepared to drop everything on his behalf, he has mastered the art of appearing forlorn and overlooked as a highly effective means of asserting his presence. I really don’t ask for much, his sad little yellow eyes say, except for the complete and undivided attention and subservience of everyone in this household whenever I demand it. Is that so much to ask?

Charlie's birthday is tomorrow, and he’s a huge presence (literally and emotionally)  in our lives. People demand binary statuses when it comes to stating a pet preference, so under those conditions I’ve always firmly been a cat person. I have two awesome family cats back in the UK, Tiffy and Topsy, who I miss terribly, and I have to admit that I’ve sometimes looked down on dogs because of their tendency to display unconditional affection. As a typical British person, I’m naturally suspicious of friendliness and prefer to start relationships with people based on mutual suspicion before gradually using alcohol as a replacement for talking when it comes to getting to know one another. Cats are exactly the same, except with head scratches replacing booze.

However, Charlie’s different. When I showed up on Betsy’s doorstep in September to start my new life in the USA, his enthusiastic greeting practically floored me (again, literally and emotionally). I was worried that Charlie would resent the presence of a new love in Betsy’s life, and the situation would be like a middle-aged man trying to bond with his new wife’s surly teenage son. As a precaution, I came armed with treats and every other bribe I could think of (particularly things that squeaked). Charlie didn’t see things that way, though; instead, he saw me as a whole new person to do his bidding! Betsy won’t feed me at the table, but hey, maybe this new guy will! Betsy shifts me over when I cut off the circulation to her legs, so let’s try lying on Jon! Charlie welcomed me wholehearted and enthusiastically, and, as long as I continue to abide by the few small things he asks of me (see first paragraph), I’m ok by him.

So happy birthday, Charlie! Thank you for welcoming me so affectionately and not peeing in my shoes. There are always challenges when starting life in a new country, particularly when I was mostly working from home and searching for a full-time job here. Having him keeping me company, and knowing when to smile/gurn/pant at me when things were frustrating, made a huge difference and kept me sane through a difficult first few months. I’m still not 100% a dog person in general, but I am most definitely a Charlie person.

Charlie's a PAL

Back in November, after the Ferguson grand jury verdict was announced, I blogged about wanting to get involved with my community.  I work in the arts at an organization that has deep ties to the DC area, but I felt like it was important to be more personally invested in my city and in the lives of its inhabitants who aren't as privileged as I am.  After researching options, Jon and I found an amazing program called The Homeless Children's Playtime Project that we really wanted to volunteer with; unfortunately, though, Jon's current schedule doesn't allow the commitment that the Playtime Project asks of its volunteers.

So, until we have the time to devote to that sort of program, we've decided to go the route we've half-joked about for years: we're getting Charlie certified as a therapy dog.  On Saturday morning, our application having been successful earlier in February, Charlie and I arrived at the Armed Forces Retirement Home in Northwest DC for preliminary approval by People Animals Love.

PAL was founded to "leverage the human-animal bond to make the DC metro community a better place," and partners with organizations all over the area to bring pets - primarily dogs as cats can be unpredictable, though other animals are allowed as well - into  contact with people who, for whatever reason, can't have their own.  The majority of the organizations PAL works with are hospitals, hospices, and nursing homes, but I'm especially enthusiastic about their collaborations with after-school programs and libraries.  It's incredibly beneficial for children to read to dogs, who don't judge the children's abilities, and having access to pets maximizes children's natural affinity for animals to stimulate scientific inquiry, improve reading and math, reward good behavior, and cultivate social skills.

Along with a dozen other dogs and their owners, Charlie and I attended an hour-long orientation; proved his ability to sit, lie down, stay, and come; and then mingled for 30 minutes with some of the seniors at the AFRH.  He passed the morning's tests with flying colors, and now we have to do two site visits at approved locations for final evaluation and approval.  I can't wait to get more fully involved in our community with Charlie!

eShakti in the Leaves

This past Sunday, Jon and Charlie and I headed to Pierce Mill in Rock Creek Park to meet my friend Sara for a little family photo session.  We'd had outing planned for a few weeks, and when eShakti reached out to ask me to review their service, I knew that the shoot would be the perfect opportunity to debut my new dress!

Honestly, the hardest part of using eShakti was picking which dress I wanted because there were so many choices.  Plus, all the items are totally customizable; I clicked on one dress that I wasn't as crazy about, just to see what I could do to it, and the website gave me the option of changing the neckline, the sleeves, and the length.  I also knew I could put in my own measurements when I ordered, which opened up a range of styles I don't usually wear.  In the end, though, I went with a dress I knew I'd wear all the time into the colder months: a plaid flannel shirtdress.

Ordering was a breeze.  I used my measurements and opted for a slightly longer hem than on the model, and that was it!  I placed the order on October 27 and it arrived on November 6, much quicker than I expected.  The quality is fantastic; the dress is lined, which gives it slightly more structure, and the flannel emerged unscathed from our romp in the leaves.  I do wish the dress had darts under the bust, but that's fixable by going to a tailor and, really, it was my choice to not get a more fitted shape in the first place.  Regardless, I absolutely love the dress and know it'll stay in the rotation until spring!

Based on my experience, I would totally recommend purchasing a dress from eShakti.  If I were to get another, I think I'd pick the red cotton poplin belted shirtdress!  If you find one you want to buy, use the code "betsytransatlantically" for 10% off your order through December 12.  Let me know if you have a look around and what you like!

(By the way, you'll hear more about Sara, who also took these photos for me, next week!  Don't go away, dear readers.)

Please note:
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All photos were taken by Sara Conklin Photography.

I was given this dress for free to review; as usual, all opinions are my own.

Happy Halloween!

Ghouls and beasts and winged things,

Vampires, witches, pumpkin kings;

But even scarier than all of that

Is a sweet little dog dressed up like a bat!

October: Adopt a Shelter Dog Month

Did you know that October is Adopt a Shelter Dog month?  Well, it is!  And Charlie was a rescue, so I'm going to take this opportunity to tell you why I think adopting is so great.  Instead of throwing out catchy soundbites about the altruism of adopting, though, I want to address some common misconceptions about buying versus rescuing a dog.

I've read a handful of posts and articles floating around the internet that defend a pet-owner's right to purchase a purebred dog from a breeder - honestly, though, as long as dog owners are responsible, I don't think those who don't adopt have anything to apologize for.  If you're thinking of getting a dog and you've done all the research and you want to buy from a breeder, then go for it.  Give a dog a loving home and I'll be on your side no matter where it came from.  But in case you're on the fence about whether or not to adopt, let me share some facts about rescuing shelter dogs by busting a few of the most popular myths:

You can't rescue a puppy.

Most shelters and rescue organizations do, sadly, have puppies available for adoption – many as young as eight weeks, which is how old a puppy you’ll get from a breeder will generally be. Some are born to a mother who was pregnant when she was rescued; others are strays or were surrendered by their owners for one reason or another. It is all too easy to adopt a dog less than twelve months old from shelters and rescues, and it’s also worth remembering that many dogs retain their youthful natures long past their first birthdays. “Puppy” is a subjective descriptor!

(We knew when we got Charlie that we wanted a dog who was around a year and a half old in part because we didn’t want to experience the chaos of true puppyhood but we still wanted a young dog so we could play a major role in his formative early years.)

Rescue dogs endured abuse/trauma before they were rescued, so they'll have lots of emotional issues.

Some dogs do come to rescue shelters after having been treated horrifically, it's true.  But, as I mentioned above, some dogs are surrenders, which means that they could have had perfectly happy lives with their first owners despite the fact that they had to be given up.  And, in some cases, dogs might come into shelters with no known history.  But most rescue organizations will place dogs in trusted foster homes so that any issues can be identified in a safe environment. It is in the organization’s best interest that dogs are matched with forever homes that will be able to take care of them both physically and emotionally; you'll often see dogs' bios include notes about temperament so that families know if their lifestyle works for the dog they want to rescue.

(We have no idea how Charlie came to be rescued.  He was brought to Lab Rescue by a kennel out in VA who had been sheltering him, but his history before that is a mystery.  We emailed back and forth with his amazing foster mom a few times before meeting him, and she warned us that he "definitely has a couple of cute little quirks, and he's a young guy, so he can be a bit mischievous too sometimes."  It's been more than two years, and that is still true!)

Rescue dogs will have a lot of health problems because they haven't been cared for properly.

Well, as with rescues' emotional issues, many physical issues can be identified, addressed, and even cured when the dogs are in shelters and with foster families.  Most rescue organizations will pay for everything from heartworm treatment to surgery if it's needed.  And, looking ahead as shelter dogs age, many might have fewer health problems than dogs you'd get from a breeder.  Purebred dogs are predisposed to serious breed-specific health problems - Labrador Retrievers, for instance, often get hip dysplasia - that are eliminated in cross-breeding, a pedigree that many rescues can claim as mixes.  Of course, there are diseases like cancer that can't be predicted, and dogs from breeders and from shelters are equally susceptible to those.

(The only dog we considered adopting before we found Charlie was heartworm positive, and her expenses were being entirely covered by Lab Rescue.  We decided not to adopt her because she was about to go into phase two of her treatment and we knew that our lifestyle wasn't appropriate for the care she needed.  However, she ended up being a "foster failure," which means that her foster family loved her so much they officially adopted her!)

Rescue dogs are mutts and I want a purebred dog.

There are actually tons of rescue organizations that cater to specific breeds.  Even shelters and humane societies that mostly save mixes will sometimes have purebred dogs like Soho, a purebred Australian Cattle Dog at the Washington Animal Rescue League.

(We knew we wanted a lab or a lab-mix so we only worked with the LRCP to find Charlie.  He's got something else in him, too - maybe some kind of hound, though Mom thinks he's half gazelle!)

I want a dog that can be trained to work as a therapy dog or a hunting dog or a security dog.

Did you know that a lot of dogs who work in therapy and for the police/military are rescues?  It's true.  Many dogs used by veterans and in K9 units were found in shelters and trained after being adopted.  There are specific breeds that are best suited to specific tasks, but as you read above it's totally possible to adopt purebred dogs if that's what you really want.  For other jobs, a dog's suitability for certain kinds of training is based on his temperament, not his breed.

(Before we got Charlie, we actually looked into "rescuing" failed seeing-eye dogs, or young labs who had gone through all the training to be a guide dog but who didn't pass the final tests.  The waiting lists for these dogs are years long, though, and they cost a lot of money.)

Adopting from a shelter doesn't have to mean opening your home to an abused, sick, and elderly dog.  It can, and people who rescue dogs who check just one of those boxes are saints in my mind, but it doesn't have to.  For us, adopting meant choosing a healthy, breed-specific dog who was old enough to already be housebroken and partially trained but who was young enough to have a puppy temperament and about a dozen good years ahead of him.  For us, adopting meant bringing Charlie into our lives.

There's a Charlie waiting for you in a shelter right now, if you want him!

all photos from a Lab Rescue party at Dogwood Acres this past August

Potomac Trails and Towpaths

Happy Indigenous Peoples' Day, dear readers!  Well, it is if you live in Seattle, Minneapolis, or South Dakota.  Otherwise it's simply Columbus Day, one of the most historically confused and culturally insensitive federal holidays we have in the United States.

Jon and I decided to celebrate by heading out of DC for the day, so we drove out to Carderock, Maryland, only 25 minutes from our apartment near the center of the city.  Washington, as you might know, is bordered on the west by the Potomac River; its upper reaches are impassable by boat, and Captain John Smith - yes, that Captain John Smith - described the area we ventured to thus in 1608:

...here we found mighty Rocks, growing in some places above the grownd as high as the shrubby trees, and divers other solid quarries of divers tinctures: and divers places where the waters had falne from the high mountaines they had left a tinctured sprangled skurfe, that made many bare places seeme as guilded.

Because of the Potomac's rocks and falls, the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal was dug in the early 19th century to serve as a transportation route, running alongside the river for 184.5 miles from Georgetown at its southernmost point up to Cumberland, Maryland.  The C&O Canal is no longer used for commercial purposes, and the National Park Service has opened up the area for recreational activities like running, hiking, biking, fishing, and kayaking.

Jon, Charlie, and I covered just over three miles on our expedition from Carderock up to the Old Angler's Inn and back, half on the towpath parallel to the canal and half on section B of the Billy Goat Trail alongside the Potomac River.  You can hear the Beltway occasionally when you're on the towpath, but walking through the forest is utterly magical.  You really can understand how the explorers came to this region and thought they had found a new world!

Silent Sunday

Happy National Dog Day!

On Sunday evening, a friend in London messaged me on Facebook. "I've started reading your blog," he said. "I'm sorry your life is so shit."

I was horrified.  Is that the impression my blog gives?

He clarified: "All that stuff on you and Jon."

Okay, yes.  Being long-distance with my husband is not great.  But life is, on the whole, pretty wonderful.  I'm near my parents, which is an enormous help both emotionally and practically; I'm in daily contact with my incredible sister, who is starting law school this week and still finds the time to send me emojis; I have fabulous girlfriends in the area, several of whom are coming over for dinner on Friday night to help me celebrate my birthday;  and I love my job, in which I have the opportunity to learn from truly passionate and dedicated colleagues.  Believe it or not, there's even a silver lining to living apart from Jon!

Charlie, of course, also makes my life a million times better.  He rescued me soon after I moved back to DC, at a time when I felt quite lost, and reminds me every day to focus on the important things.  Charlie's lessons are essential to happy living:

Charlie and I spent a glorious few hours in Rock Creek Park on Sunday.  He's not so good off the leash if I'm standing still, but he sticks relatively close to me when I'm on the move.  If I lose sight of him, I just have to call out and a few seconds later he'll zoom past me from wherever he was exploring, his whole face contorted in an ecstasy of exultation.  There's so much to smell in Rock Creek Park, but Charlie doesn't find it overwhelming.  It's freeing!  He could go anywhere and discover something thrilling.  And the water - oh, the water!

So happy National Dog Day from Charlie and me, dear readers.  May we go through life like puppies off-leash in a park alongside our beloved best friends.