Shmoo. . .

Posted on November 5, 2026 by Pat

Can’t quite do it yet. . .clean the window. We lost Abby in March of this year and it’s one of those things I feel that if I wipe those shmoo marks away, another part of her is erased. Maybe it sounds silly, but I can’t get those back again once they’re gone. I don’t know – I may keep them, and they could still be there when it’s our time to leave.

Do you ever have feelings like that? Little pieces that are hard to let go when a loved one or pet dies. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that, unless like in this case, you’re a clean freak (which clearly, I’m not) and need to have everything spotless. So, here they are on the sliding glass door below and on the one upstairs.

I know one day, they’ll be washed off, and gone. It still won’t take away the wonderful memories we had with her over the 14-¾ years she was with us. A part of her will always be with us, whether the marks remain on the windows or not – shmoo stay as long as you want!

That’s life, though, the big things and the little things. All of it! Some tug at your heart and are deep and others surface that you barely notice. I wouldn’t trade any of it as it makes me feel alive . . . connected to a bigger existence.

Sometimes, I wish I understood those things I feel but can’t see. I know something is there. Hubby said he was halfway asleep and dreaming the other night, when he noticed Abby come running into the bedroom and jump up with her front paws on the side of the bed – then she was gone. A brief moment between 2 worlds.

Another day of living and reflecting, that’s the beautiful thing of this life. We all have these many moments throughout our day. Sometimes we pause to notice and other times we barely have time to breathe let alone stop and feel moments. I get it. But, maybe in reading this it will give you a pause long enough to pump the brakes and just breathe to take it all in.

Thank you for reading and spending your time with me over here.

Pat at the ‘ol kitchen table

You Were There

Posted on April 27, 2014 by Pat

Poem © Jim Ruppel

When, in a distant place by the sea

And I was young and free and alone

I searched for a special someone

To walk beside, someone I didn’t know

AND YOU WERE THERE.

Later, when we left the sea

And came to the mountains

The vastness of this new place

Filled me with fear

BUT YOU WERE THERE.

I roamed from job to job

From trouble to trouble

Searching for something from within and without

Yet never quite finding and feeling the doubt

YOU WERE THERE.

And now in this time of finding

This time of happiness and joy

This time of reaching and growing

This time especially for sharing

YOU ARE THERE.

© Jim Ruppel

The world can be unsettling, at times, especially if you listen to the news. You don’t know what’s going to happen next or how to prepare. You can take comfort, when you have a constant in your life you can always count on, whether it be a companion, friend, pet or a special place. I know this to be true in many ways. Let me tell you how it began to unfold for me. Continue reading →

So Hard To Say Goodbye!

Posted on December 3, 2012 by Pat

For those animal lovers out there, you know how hard it is to say goodbye to a pet. We had to say goodbye to Riley, our beloved best friend and companion this week.

Riley – March 2006 © Jim Ruppel

He was such a trooper through the tests and hand feeding but the stomach cancer had taken too much of a toll on his body.

He came to us 12-1/2 years ago, a black, Labrador-mix pup. He had a little white on his chest and a dab on his front paws – though in later years he had unusual color transformations from black to a perfect white, symmetrical cape on the back of his neck, head and face instead.

It was love at first sight on that first drive home as he laid his head on Jim’s leg. He knew he was in the right place with his new people and we knew from the start this was going to be a once-in-a-lifetime bond. Even as a puppy, we could tell he was a gentle, old soul and there was something magical about him.

We got Riley with the hope he would help our other dog, daughter’s German Shepherd, through a grieving process having lost his companion. It took a little while but they became best buddies and our Shepherd soon became his old self.

As the days and months passed, Riley grew and settled into our routines and life at home. So much so he became a true home body. Though he loved to go for hikes and family outings when he had enough he would let us know it was time to go home by running to the car waiting for us to follow.

He loved our mountain backyard with the space to run and wildlife. Every night he would go out and lay by the back door peacefully looking out over his yard as if in silent communion with the deer and rabbits all cohabiting together. In his later years, my husband would walk him around unleashed from the backyard to the front and, if deer were bedded down, Riley would stay close on command and not attempt to chase though hard at times.

He had a game he played with the chipmunks. When they popped up on a boulder, Riley would chase down the hill as hard as his legs would take him only to lose it up a tree or under another rock.

One day, my husband was out working on a fence while Riley was making his rounds in the yard. A chipmunk popped up and Jim noticed Riley took off after it in a cloud of dust.

Jim continued working and later looked over to check on Riley. There he was just standing wagging his tail but his mouth looked funny.

Jim said to him, “Riley, do you have something in your mouth?” Riley stood and looked a little sheepish this time now wagging his tail a little harder. As Jim walked toward him, he noticed Riley’s mouth bulging on both sides with a slight movement.

Jim said, “Riley? What do you have?” Just then, Riley opened his mouth as if to answer and a chipmunk shot out and up the hill over grass and through the fence. The chipmunk jumped up and down atop a boulder looking back at Jim and Riley chattering away as if scolding them.

Now, as we go through the house, we feel his strong presence as if he left in body but stayed in spirit. We can still see the places where he laid and the toys he brought us for love or to show that he missed us.

We have so many memories of a being that passed through our lives in a special way. He taught us how to be sensitive, intuitive, gentle and kind.

Though we’ve had many pets over the years and have loved them all, there will never be another Riley. We have truly been privileged and blessed he chose us on his life’s journey and will always miss and love him.

Do you have any stories of your beloved pets you’d like to share? I’d love to hear them.

Pat – from the ol’ kitchen table