On second thought...

Seriously, she's my replacement at Faire? Oh, Mommy...good luck.

 

Back to the Faire...with a side of PTSD for Mommy

HRH surveys her people... GARF Opening Day 2022

So this past weekend was the opening one for the Georgia Renaissance Festival. Anne and I headed down to work with her bloodhound Finn (whom I must have called Bo a million times) and my Bryn. I hadn't originally planned to take her, as I am reducing my appearances at Faire with HOEF until I have another keen Rennie hound that isn't into her bonus time. We're working on Ciaragh.

I was anxious all last week for all kinds of reasons. Will my garb fit? Have I forgotten how to do GARF? Will Bryn be okay at faire/for a long car ride/in a hotel room with a dog she really doesn't know? Things that were rote back in 2019 are now new and difficult and daunting. For example, I had everything packed save my overdress which was in the dryer when I started to load the car. My garb would have looked hilarious without the rest of my dress! The drive down was uneventful - Bryn slept for most of it. Our accommodation seemed fine at first, but turned out to be a nightmare of the not enough towels/shower gel dispenser falling off the shower wall/a kitchenette with no chairs for the table and no cutlery/an AC unit that sounded like a plane coming in for a landing variety. But there was a bed and a roof and we could make do.

Saturday morning I loaded Bryn up and we headed to Faire. And I was fine, really fine...until we got off the interstate and headed down that road that I drove up and down for days back in 2019, looking for any sign of my Ciaragh. My throat tightened and my mouth went dry as I saw the parking lot entrance ahead, and thought of all the times I'd driven in and out of there, knowing that I was leaving her behind to go get sleep. I was tearing up as I rode down the driveway to the backstage area where we were to park...where I sat for hours in my car with the tailgate open, hoping that she would just appear out of the trees, hop into the back, and settle in with a sigh that said she was ready to go home.

It was hard to see people who, when I last was with them, were telling me how sorry they were that she was missing and that they would keep an eye out for her. I saw the joust arena where she became so anxious and the fence that she pulled me face first into before breaking free. But Bryn wasn't running. Bryn was tired, and hot, but she stayed with me and we made it back to the hotel together.

And now I've done it...and I'm so grateful to all the cast and crew at GARF that helped and looked for her and loved me through it. But I'm also thankful to the patrons who made a point to ask if Bryn was the wolfhound that had gone missing and then were overjoyed to hear that Ciaragh was home and healthy and safe. 

Faire-mly is real. Rennies are some of the best people on the earth. Onward and upward to Celtic Weekend!

 

Our Daily October...Sisters.

Well, I for one would never have foreseen THIS.
Can you tell who is who?

 

Reposted from Brave Lettuce: On Saying Hello, Knowing You Have to Say Goodbye.

 

IWAMS members in the St. Patrick's Day Parade, Charlotte, NC. March 2018.

The Irish Wolfhound community lost one of its fiercest warriors, defenders, and supporters yesterday with the death of Heather Burns, a member of the Irish Wolfhound Association of the Mid South. Heather worked tirelessly to find placements for IWs that needed rescue/rehoming. She possessed a wealth of knowledge of the breed: history, temperament, health concerns, etc. I've put this picture up even though you can't see Heather and Mark in this shot, it is representative of who she was and why those of us lucky enough to have known her are grieving today.

This was the day before she drove our Ciaragh all the way from her home in NC (almost VA) down to us here in Greenville. Hubs came with me to the parade this time to watch from the sidelines and brought Willow-Pickle along for the ride so she wouldn't have to stay home alone. If you look right in the middle of the picture you will see her, straining to get out in front of all those long-legged wolfhounds because she was the security for the IW contingent. Simon happened to run into Heather along the parade route (I had already taken Bryn to the line-up point) and, being the force of nature she was, she managed to convince my 6'4" Yorkshireman and our snappy little terrier mix to come with her and join the parade. "Willow can be a Wolfhound today," she told him - which is exactly what Willow believed in her heart already. 

You see, that was Heather. In a world of kennel clubs and rare breeds that could foster a sense of elitism and snobbery, Heather was there to make sure that everyone felt welcome at the table - at HER table, the Irish Wolfhound table. I was already familiar with her because she not only saved my bacon and my sanity plenty of times as we were raising Bryn, but she found members of Bryn's extended family that we didn't know about, like her litter brother, Barley, and his family, Tamara and Marc. Or Bryn's older sister Keira and her mom Stacie. Heather knew everyone and everything, and if she didn't know something you'd better believe she would find out for you.

What I knew from the time that I met her was that she had cancer and that it was terminal. She told me with a smile on her face and in her heart that her plan was to outlive the IWs she had (at the time I think there were three) so that when she passed, her husband wouldn't have that to deal with on top of everything else. Heather NEVER thought of herself first. So I knew that as I was saying hello to her, I was also getting ready to say goodbye. She was one of those warrior women that you just thought would live forever.

Go raibh cead míle maith agat, one hundred thousand thank yous, to Heather, for taking me under her massive wing and teaching me how to be a good mom to Bryn and Ciaragh - and for your example of strength, compassion, and love. I hope that your first stop was at a clear pond where your hounds were waiting.

Please visit my album in the Beach Bound Hounds Vendor Virtual Showcase, currently happening through 14th September 2020, to purchase your copies of the Clobberpaws books - 100% of the total sales of Clobberpaws and Clobberpaws, Too! paperbacks will go to the Irish Wolfhound Rescue of the MidSouth's Heather Burns Memorial Fund for Veteran Hounds, created to support foster homes and adopters of hounds that due to age/illness are difficult to place.

Ciaragh, Similarly Tweeted

We wander the lanes, ma #belle fille, mo chailín beag, my Ciaragh and I. Her duty is to her queen first, her mum second - but evil-doers beware. She rules with an iron-gray coloured paw and loves with her whole heart.#vss365 #clobberpaws #clobberpawstoo #amwriting #wolfhounds pic.twitter.com/dDIE9UPXfg

— NancyD_writes (@nancyd_writes) February 24, 2020

Weather Watchers.

So, a few days ago the door was open all day and now it's snowing. I can't explain that, but can you tell which wolfhound is me?

New Year, New Staff Meeting

Bryn and Ciaragh are in agreement that the "chicken nubby yum-yums" are the preferred treat for 2020. Sadly, unanimous consent is required, and Willow-Pickle remains unwavering in her acceptance of "Anything Not Tied Down."

Is it just me...

...or does Ciaragh look like an old man muppet here?

Paint me like your...Irish Girls?

Yeah, she's shameless. Positively wanton. She did NOT learn that from me.

Irish Headshots

Our Irish Eyes weren't smiling, they were wondering why we had to sit still for so long.
Can you tell which one is me? -Bryn

One more with Ciaragh...

Miss Emily caught Ciaragh growing into a real Rennie Hound, right there before our eyes.
She healed lots of hurting hearts that day by just looking into people's eyes. 

So, Ciaragh here...

I promised Mommy that I would never run away again and yet, here we are. Somebody explain to her that I'm not a pillow, please?

She really hasn't changed that much...still Perma-Concerned

Above: Ciaragh at CRF, 11/2/2019, Photo by Lisa Margolis. 

Below: Ciaragh on day two with us, 3/19/2018, Photo by her Auntie Shannon.

Clobberpaws, Too! is out!

Thanks to our friend Uncle Chris for the use of the photo - that was actually taken on the day that Ciaragh tried to run away from GARF!

Greenville SC St. Patrick's Day Parade

The IWAMS crew - Ciaragh is making sure her tutu is on straight.

And then, this happened.

You can keep your Erin Go Bragh - How about Erin Go Rip Up That Tutu?

Irish Wolfhound Head Study

Can you tell who is who?

Ciaragh's First Christmas...Tree Skirt

NOW who is headed to the salon in 1955? Not me this time. It's her turn now.

I am nothing if not accommodating.

I will allow her foot to touch mine...for now.

Ciaragh...

...is right behind me, isn't she? *sigh*