Bonus Sweet Sweet Finn

Over a year of preparations went into this trip and part of that involved finding caregivers for our beasts. We are so very blessed to have our niece caring not only in their needs but giving them so much love and comfort in our absence that Im not sure they will want us back! She even reported that sweet sweet Finn has been behaving. In case you have never met Finn, the ‘sweet sweet’ is dripping with sarcasm. Here is a little story I write about that little tiny devil:

I have this dog we rescued last year named Finn.  When discussing dogs that were rescued, some people sweetly say that the dog rescued them with the twinkle of teardrops in their eyes as they look towards the sky like the dog came directly from heaven.  This is not where Finn came from and I rescue him every day I don’t send him back to the pound.  He is a Pomeranian about the size of my thumb and his saving grace is that he loves his humans like they are everything on the planet.  When he is feeling generous. 

When he is not feeling generous he barks at nothing, pees on his brother, poops on my deck, and generally loses his mind when my husband tries to leave the house.  He has needed oodles of training and redirection and quite possibly needs medication.  I learned about his latest trick this morning when I went to pick the asparagus.  I have a large garden with mostly perennial fruit bushes and trees and the occasional smaller patch of annual vegetables.  It is entirely fenced in and when I go out to read or work on the beds I bring my three terrors (Actually the other two did come from heaven.  Mostly.)  I did this yesterday weeding and cutting down old canes and doing some general clean up. 

 

I should have thought a little harder about the fact that Finn was entertaining himself and not driving the other two dogs into madness.  Call me an optimist, I assumed the best.  This morning after frolicking with my silly goats and Amy, I traipsed over to the garden to pull this morning’s haul of asparagus.  I only had one coffee by then and my reading glasses where hiding on the top of my head so my first glance did not cause panic.  There were roots sticking up and stretching toward the sun, but they looked weird.  Kind of frayed.  I checked my pocket and my hoody and finally found my glasses to take a better look.  

 

That little jerk had chewed the tops off of every asparagus stalk in the garden.  Some were completely gone, some chewed just enough to make them disgusting.  In my mind I could actually see the smirk on his little face and the twinkle in his eye that he probably has when he tells his buddies, ‘well, I actually rescued them’.

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