I dug out this picture because it captures the essence of the professional me...focused, confident and ready to take on the world. A licensed therapist of 28 years, president of Women Business Owners Association in San Diego, an award winning Toastmaster, radio-show talk host, seminary professor and published writer...to name a few professional achievements. These are the accolades I rehearse in my brain as I squat to pick up still another pile of dog poop in my newly found vocation...Dog Adventure Guide. How have I stooped to this? I know "shit happens," but this is just a bit too literal for me!

As I hit my mid 50's, something snapped inside of me...something restraining and restrictive. My therapist teflon wore thin and my septic tank of pain absorption began to overflow. I could have sought out therapy myself, or at least supervision to recoat the teflon and drain the tank, but I just didn't want to. It was time to let go. Time to recreate myself. Time to move. Literally. No more sedentary listening. No more walls to hold me in. No more hours carefully measured in 50 minute segments to stay on schedule. It was time.

As I shared before, the overly zealous rangers had a lot to do with the creation of my new self, but I must take responsibility for what evolved. My love of animals merged with my desire to be out of doors and my desperation to express myself with physical movement. I first mulled around the idea of hosting spiritual mini-retreats called "Getaways with God," but had few takers. Then I tweeked the name "God" to "Dog" and sure enough, something began to take off! People wanted getaways for their dogs! And I wanted to do them! It's been my own daily "getaways with God" that have given me the freedom to shuck off all my old defining labels, get hairy with the pups and clean up their inevitable waste products. (See Riley posing in illustration of this phenomena). I am thankful for my illustrious past, and I'm sure my "successes" have quieted the achievement demons inside of me, but it is truly the security I derive from God's love and acceptance of me that has allowed, even encouraged me to redefine myself in my 50's. I have nothing to prove to Him. His love is a done deal! And I have the quintessential privilege of passing it on, to canines and humans alike.

I must admit, when I forget this freedom and begin measuring my worth by my titles or income, I have to recall the words of one of my professionally-careered customers, "Lynette, in my next life I want to do what you do!" Why wait? Maybe doody calls!

Dogs are by nature territorial...or are they? I'm beginning to wonder? Out at the 100+ acre dog park in which we adventure every day, I see almost none of that energy. The open spaces seem to belong to everyone equally. At least the dogs seem to think so. No growling, posturing, snapping or protecting turf. Even my border collie becomes borderless. Oh, there is plenty of leg lifting and decorating the bushes with their scent-filled urine, but not a single dog seems pissed off if another dog tops his brew with their own concoction.

Now there is one exception. Those are dogs still attached to a leash out there. The owners swear that the dog's aggressiveness triggers the need for a leash, but I wonder if the leash creates a "territory" that the dog now feels compelled to protect. Put my dog on a leash and he is transformed into my protector, pulling out all his best aggressive moves to broadcast to other four-legged creatures that I am his and they are not to approach. The leash creates boundaries for his territory, and doggone it, he's determined to patrol it.

So what can we as humans learn about territorialism from our canine friends?

• games like Monopoly are fun, but when we approach real life with such rigid demarcations of ownership, there truly will be winners and losers...boundaries make us possessive, self-protective and fearful of losing what we own. Our stuff begins to own us.

• sharing things communally is kind of fun, bonding and freeing! Our neighborhood has no fences between the yards and the kids use the treefort in one yard, the trampoline in another, the swingset in yet another and the entire unfenced space to stage the most incredible games of "Capture the Flag" I have ever seen!

• it seems that when we begin to fear that there are not enough resources to go around that we begin to get "grabby" about staking out our claim. Isn't that the essence of the energy that triggers wars (or relational conflicts)? Self-centered focus, be it on an individual or a national level? When is enough, enough? I don't know the answer to that, but it seems like the dogs at the dog park have figured it out. I, for one, want that commitment to the communal best so we all can enjoy the beauty and resources of this incredible planet together in playfulness and peace.

Have you ever found yourself longing for the simplicity of a dog's life? My dog Koda (shown here with his feline brother, Huckaby) often evokes envy in me...especially when I am rushing around like a "chicken with my head cut off." (Don't you just love the visuals of these old farm sayings?) His "feathers rarely get ruffled," and he is "cool as a cucumber," "happy as a hog a'pissin'."(That one's for you, Bonnie!) Enough barnyard talk!

Have you ever noticed that your dog could care less where you are going? He or she just wants to go with you. No persuasion or recruitment needed. The point isn't where or why. The point is just being with you. How simple is that?! Compare that to what goes through my mind when asked to accompany anyone on an excursion... let's see, can I afford the time? Will this be valuable to me? Will it be fun or rewarding in any way? Do I owe this person some time for time they've given me? And on and on. You know the internal drill...you do it too! For a dog it's as simple as "take me with you!"

I've come to call this the gift of "presence." And it is a rare gift between humans. It is my theme for 2010. It is also as foreign to my hyperactive, ADD brain as tits on a bull...(Oh, here I go again!) Now, sit me down as a counselor in a padded room and I can conjure up "presence" with the best of my professional peers, but turn me loose in the wilds of real life and I am about as "present" as a pinball freshly sproinged. (Told you I can coin a word when necessary!) Koda is my guru for this journey toward "presence." He gazes at me adoringly, notices the nuances of my facial expressions, adjusts himself to my body language and effectively communicates without words that I am absolutely the center of his universe for this moment in time. How utterly (don't think cow) enhancing this is to my self esteem.

I want to give this gift to the people God brings into my life to love. It requires me to shut off all competing stimuli, external and internal. It requires me to hear their heart as well as their words. But most of all it requires me to so genuinely love them that both of these previous "skills" are natural responses, born of my deep valuing of them. Nothing contrived or forced, just purebred affection. To be honest, that is totally beyond me...I mean the loving part. Can't conjure that kind of love up on my own. But I have my moments of genuine "presence" despite my love limitations. They come when I forget myself. They come when I ditch my agenda. They come when a spark of inspiration enables me to see that person through the eyes and heart of God. Suddenly they are the center of the universe for a moment in time. I transcend myself as God's love for them takes over.

I used to be about achieving specific goals...the kind of stuff that looks stellar on a resume. But now it has become moments. Moments of "presence." Moments of making those around me feel like no one else exists as we talk and share our lives. I suck at it, but at least it is now on my radar (could have said "barking up the right tree," but I didn't!) Like Koda, I just want to say "take me with you" as offers to journey together are shouted or whispered by those I love. The point isn't where or why, it is just truly being "present."

Hello again! Sorry for the silence...deadlines have held me captive the last few days. BUT I can't wait to tell you about a strange romance that has developed between two of my dogs. Lizzie, my non-descript wire-haired terrier mix (see pix) is everydog's favorite sweetheart. Not a real "looker", she makes up for her ruff appearance with her perpetually playful demeanor and fun-loving spirit. I call her my "Type O blood" dog, universally compatible with everyone! She is understandably lovable.

Enter Copper, my 8 month old Irish Setter who is swashbucklingly handsome, albeit boney for his adolescent age. He is in love...with Lizzy...an older woman. This would be a match made in Heaven, given both of their love of running and chasing, BUT Copper is clueless about when to quit. Our adventure trip typically starts off with Lizzie dancing around until Copper's heart is captured by her string-bikini smile and seductive call to play. Off they go, running full speed up hill and dale, with Lizzie surprisingly in the lead despite the fact that her legs are half as long as her would-be-beau's. Inevitably Copper's obsession to catch Lizzie evokes an impassioned yelp that becomes synchronized with his gangly stride. "Yip, Yip, Yip." It's a pathetic cry that strips him of his masculinity, and I'm sure of Lizzie's attraction to him! His intense neediness is a turnoff. (Life Lesson # 1: Stay cool, maintain your dignity despite raging hormones or attraction. Don't lose "hand," in this case "paw," or you'll have to kiss it all goodbye!)

Then, to make matters worse, Copper won't let up. Lizzie wants a little of her own life, freedom to sniff down a scent or dance with the other dogs, and Copper invades her space with his demands for attention. Being a sweet spirit, Lizzie tries to humor him with a gentle nudge, but he is pushing for another romp in the grass (literally). She shows a little teeth to get her point across, but Copper misinterprets it as even more of an invitation to cavort. I finally have to intervene by leashing Copper for a short time-out to break his fixation on poor Lizzie. Her relieved expression tells me I'm definitely reading this right, a woman to woman (kinda) sigh of, "This guy just doesn't get it!" (Life Lesson # 2: Get a clue! She's not that into you! Read the signals for what they are!)

I have to laugh at Copper's passion... probably born of his Irish blood and red hair! It dawned on me who he reminds me of... Pepe LePew. Remember him? The cartoon, ultra-romantic french skunk whose affections for a little black and white female cat were totally intrusive and downright stinky! I will have to sit Copper down for a "Pepe LePew learn some self-respect" session. Leash up his adolescent hormones and control the crush!

Well, it's about time I shared with you how I became a Dog Adventure Guide. Like all good things in life, it sort of found me when I least expected it. I live in Littleton, Colorado, right at the base of the explosion of Rocky Mountains, which is to say on the edge of 1000's of acres of the most beautiful open space in the world. Unfortunately so do the overly zealous rangers who patrol this area with pure Barney Fife devotion to melodrama over the most miniscule offenses. My dog, Koda, is a Border Collie mix, a rescue pup born of the Katrina disaster (another great story for another time!), who, like all true herding dogs, needs to run and run and run. And I believe he should be able to exercise this God-given need. (Read tension rising). Not a good match for the Fife squad. (Read tickets, summons, animal control house visits , fines and threats).

In my desperation I began to develop a criminal mind, devising all kinds of ways to sabotage the Fife patrol so that Koda could get his runs. (Read mad-hatter mother). Beat them out in the dark of dawn, flatten the tires on their ranger batmobiles, attach GPS trackers to their trucks to hone in on their location, make fake calls reporting off-leash activities in other areas, and dismantle their remote controlled gate so they couldn't leave the station. I was shocked at my own deviousness and potential for crime. (It's all my high school teacher's fault for making me read Thoreau's Civil Disobedience). I had to change my ways before I actually implemented these crimes! I cried out to God for a solution that I couldn't see in front of me.

So, I caved and began to make the 36 minute round trip in my car to transport Koda to the closest off-leash dog park...in this case at Chatfield State Park. It irked me to have to leave perfectly good open space at my backdoor to drive elsewhere to find some, but I decided it beat eventually ending up behind bars...where I couldn't take Koda out at all! So drive we did. And to my surprise it was worth it! No rushes of adrenalin at the sight of khaki-clad figures stalking me, no tickets to pay, no criminal thoughts racing through my head. As I loaded Koda in the car, it dawned on me that there was plenty of room for other off-leash offenders who were desperate for running room. So I took out an ad in the local paper and "Happy Dog Off-Leash Adventures" was born! "Necessity is the mother of invention" and it re-invented me as a Dog Adventure Guide. Now, 2 years later I can thank God for the Fife faceoff and the unexpected way that He not only met Koda and my needs, but the needs of another 20 dogs that I have the privilege of transporting to their favorite adventureland. Deadends can become new beginnings! Don't give up when you hit one.

Boone is my resident wiemaraner. My "grey ghost." He would be the bass singer in a quartet. His bark is more of a deep gutteral rumble that rattles my eardrums, nay, my entire body with its base vibrations. I know this because Boone loves to announce to the entire dog park that he is on his way...and sits right behind me as he bellows his joyous arrival. I've found some relief from his barrage by opening the windows of the car so Boone can stick his head out to share his music with the world. But no amount of coaxing him to silence ever works! Boone is a born crooner, a lounge lizard who'd sing to an empty audience if no one showed!

The other dogs in the car have been inspired by Boone's brand of music. It sparks something deep inside of them...something ancient, something mystically connective. Once Boone begins the overture, they pipe in with their harmonizing voices. Ear splittingly high yaps from the sopranos of little Lizzies, tenor melodies from the midsize crew of goldens and labs and alto backups from the yodelers who fancy themselves coyotes instead of dogs. At first I almost lost my mind trying to drive with all this racket. It seemed chaotic and abrasive. But then the counselor in me began to really listen to them...and watch them as they got swept up in the frenzy. And I began to think, where can dogs ever express that deepest part of themselves? As soon as they so much as woof, we are on them like the gestapo, silencing their would-be voices for our convenience. Heaven forbid they disturb the neighbors, or wake the baby, or worse, drown out the dialogue on our favorite TV show.

So where is a dog to go to tap into his or her wild roots of self-expression? If you've ever heard the chorus of coyotes singing to their hearts' content in the dark of the night, you know what I mean. Dogs need a place to howl! So I've decided that my car is a safe zone for their vocal experimentation. I've also discovered that if I join in with them, my ears forget to hear noise and instead, connected to my own vocal chords, take delight in the amazing harmonies that together we create. The dogs look at me funny at first, then realize I am not only letting them sing, I am endorsing it with my participation! You should hear my rendition of a coyote in heat!

I have a confession to make. I am a manipulator...and even worse, I use food to control those I am manipulating. Any good parenting manual will condemn the use of food as a reward to reinforce the behavior that you want in your child. My kids never caved to these techniques, but my dogs do! Boy do they ever ! I like to think that it is my charming, magnetic appeal that makes them follow me like the pied-piper, but truth be told, it is the fannypack full of treats that keeps them tethered to my side. Knowing that random reinforcement creates the best adhesive, I surprise them with goodies at the least likely moments. Even as they adventure off on their own, they keep one ear cocked my direction to hear my yodeling cry, "T-R-E-A-T!" Instant response...what power I feel at that manipulative moment!! It is the same rush that the ice cream truck man must feel when his tinkling song flushes unseen kids out of the bushes at a dead run. "Popsicles!"

A few observations about how these treats are received...there is the hovering group that refuses to wander far from my magic pouch, missing out on a greater adventure for fear of not being the first to get their treat. Then there's the demanding ones that try to trip me as they bark out their orders for a snack stop...(how dare them try to manipulate me!) Mostly they make me mad, less likely to want to give them something for their bold insistence. My favorites are the true adventurers who, despite their love of the goodies, trust me to give them their just due and waste no time or energy worrying about it, or trying to force me to fork it out. I WANT to reward them! All this made me think of how I receive things from others...or more importantly, from God. Which group do I fall in? Which one do you?

One last note. The other day I was trying to split a treat in two and decided to use my teeth. (Alright, I admit it was a dumb idea). Instead of breaking, it crumbled in my mouth, leaving me with a pile of disgusting sawdust that was absolutely the most tasteless thing ever to assail my palate. This is the treat that brings them running from all directions?! At that moment I lost all respect for the dogs I so easily manipulate! Now I understand why eating old dog poop is a gourmet meal to them...it's gotta beat this sawdust stuff!

Nico was my teacher today. I didn't plan it that way, but that is the nature of a great adventure...serendipitous life lessons. Actually I went out to teach him how to be a dog, but in the process he taught me something even more important.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. First let me introduce Nico to you. As you can see Nico is a full-blooded Miniature Collie, better know as a Sheltie. His problem is that he doesn't know that he is a dog...hasn't been around other dogs much and definitely prefers the company of human beings. (I have just the opposite problem!) On our adventures he clings to my legs like a pair of leg warmers, and given his luxuriant fur, he could well be just that. The other dogs are leaping, chasing, running, wrestling, sniffing, swimming, hunting squirrels and pretty much ignoring me, but Nico barely gives them a second nod. I am his universe, which doesn't say much about his standards!

So today I forced myself to ignore him, cute antics and all. I decided to so bore him that he was compelled to look elsewhere for stimulation. And to my great delight he began to do just that...he glanced at the other dogs and showed some interest in what they were doing...almost as if something inside of him was being awakened. Lizzie noticed right away and tried to engage him in a bit of wrestling, which he seemed surprised about, but gave it his best shot, employing all his favorite leaping moves he uses to impress me. They weren't very effective, but Lizzie was being her gracious self and worked with his peculiar attempts at being a dog. Any attention from me immediately swept him back into his familiar role of leg warmer, so I had to repeatedly remove myself to keep the magic of his disconnection with me in motion. That's when it struck me.

That's exactly what I've needed to do with my newly launched daughter in her freshman year of college. Oh, I can return her phone calls, emails and text messages, but I need to restrain myself from initiating too many of them myself. Like Nico, I miss her cute antics and worth-inflating focus on me, but it is truly a delight to my soul to see her finding her own independence as she discovers her unique personhood. She is off and running, chasing, sniffing, wrestling and exploring the emerging young lady that she is! And despite my loss as the center of her universe, I want to keep the magic of this alive.

So, Nico, thank you for being my teacher today. We'll work on other dog skills tomorrow, but something tells me you are well on your way!

What's Done is Done...Get Over it!

One of my favorite dogs I take adventuring is a little black lab/terrier mix named Kadi. She is special because she is my dog, Koda's girlfriend, or maybe better said "bitch-friend" in dog language. When alone, they wrestle, chase, lick each other's ears and have upmost trust in one another. Unfortunately, when I add other dogs to the mix, Kadi shrivels up into a cowering, terrified mass of "caninity" (get used to my use of literary license in coining new words as needed!). It breaks my heart to see her effervescence evaporate into fizzless fear...dull, flat nothingness. Her owner, Rick told me that when he and his wife Lois rescued her as a puppy from an animal shelter, she was covered with scabs that led them to believe she had been beaten up by the other dogs.

That was 4 years ago. That was thousands of hours ago, with dozens of experiences of good natured dogs interacting with her since then. Still no change, no learning from new, healthy encounters. The painful memories prevail. I hurt with her as she cowers, but her fears also evoke uncharacteristic meaness in her towards other dogs. Kadi appears to operate with the philosophy that "the best defense is a good offense"...so she quickly snaps and growls at any approaching dogs. Rightly so, their response is aggression back, and Kadi has succeeded in deepening her belief system that other dogs aren't to be trusted.

Sound familiar? We humans dig our relational grooves the same way...with the same results...cowering fears born of painful memories...resorting to defense mechanisms that only deepen our distrust of others as we provoke the very things we want to avoid. You'd think we'd learn...or at least see our part in choreographing that hurtful dance routine. But we don't. Kadi doesn't and neither do we.

So what's the solution. Let me talk to Kadi and you can eavesdrop if you want. "Kadi, you are a precious, wonderful, joy-filled little doggy. I love you...so does Koda. The other dogs around you aren't monsters. They are playful, fun, gentle and just as desiring of avoiding a fight as you are. If you'd just put aside your past pain for short stretches of time, and give them a chance to show you something different, you'd be able to start enjoying them and add them to your very short list of friends. You need to see your "snappy-snap" (what we call her biting) as bringing on their negative response and resist the urge to drive them away out of your own knee-jerk reaction to self-protect. Give them a chance, Kadi. It's time to let the past go and make some new grooves of experiences that allow others to take as much delight in you as Koda and I do. It is an "adventure" of another sort but we can do it together. Growl less and get over it!"

Welcome to Dog Blog: Life Lessons to Drool Over

If you've managed to sniff out this blog site, I must warn you ahead of time that there will be plenty of slobber and saliva involved in the writing of it. I am a "Dog Adventure Guide" in the Denver, Colorado area. That sounds like a glorified title for a dog walker, but I am only being honest about what I do. Every day I load up my small SUV with 6 dogs and head to Chatfield State Park's dog off-leash area...110 acres of DisneyWorld to a dog. No leashes, no fences and all kinds of wild adventures to be had. There is definitely no walking involved! So "Adventure Guide" is infinitely more accurate.

I am also a licensed counselor who has a difficult time shutting off my observations of relational interactions...be they human or canine. As I have gallivanted with my frothing, frenzied adventurers, have realized that we have a great deal to learn from our 4-legged friends. It is my hope, nay, prayer that I will somehow be able to translate the lessons they so graciously impart into language that we, as humans can embrace in our own lives. So unleash your stereotypes of "a dog's life" and travel with me on our adventures!