Hello, my San Saba friends, and how has life been treating you since last we spoke? I hope with all my heart you have not been involved in the recent squirrel invasion as we have. Do any of you remember that movie, The Russians are Coming? Well, I may write a script called The Time Vermin Vanquished San Saba! Mom keeps telling me they have every right to be in our yard. And I keep telling her the operative word is “OUR,” and I have a say, too!
Okay, let me get off that subject before I have a coronary! I was once the most socially adept wire-haired dachshund around. I never barked at anyone. But I have noticed since this pandemic that I no longer get out to shop with the parentals; I even bark at the neighbors when they are in their own yard. I feel guilty about it, and yet my big booming dachshund voice comes charging out of my mouth even when they walk out of their door. Have you ever disliked a personality trait about yourself, told yourself to stop doing it, and a moment later find yourself doing what you just told yourself not to do? My heart is still filled with love, but I think it is filled with more frustration than anything right now. And it is that which comes bounding out of my mouth. I know I haven’t become a mean dachshund because when dad and I go for walks, I love on our neighbors, Wesley and Randall, when I see them as if I hadn’t seen them in a million years and may never see them again! Yep, I cannot get enough hugs, kisses or belly rubs so I know the Happy Herman is still inside me, but perhaps he is just buried under boredom.
My mom taught me something this week. She bought these enormous bins so she could organize things in the house. Over several days, she worked and worked to get several rooms completely organized. As most of you know, my mom is very unwell, but she believes happiness lies in what can be done rather than what cannot and is worth the price that will be paid. I think dad disagreed a bit because mom could hardly walk from every muscle and bone hurting in her body from her little project, and dad’s feelings were upset. I suppose we all have different views on what is important. I hate squirrels running all over the railing of dachshund jail, consider it an intrusion, a violation of my space. Dad sees mom's want to clean and organize a waste of her precious energy and time, but when all is said and done, each of us must choose our own path to peace. Mom said to me once, “Herman my love, there is no better thing you can be than who you are.” My San Saba, I love who you are, cherish it, in fact. I hope you have a lovely week until next we speak, and thank you for being.