Some Things Are Meant To Be

As the morning sun dances over the graceful boughs of our douglas fir Christmas tree, as my three labs slumber nearby, I reflect that some things are meant to be. How very meaningful that the man I share my life with, loves Christmas equally as I do. Argil, the man in my life, adopted all three of the labs, or, "the kids" as he call them. The house we share is located amidst my old stomping grounds. Years ago, I worked down the road at Windfield Farms, and spent hours birding the marshes and fields nearby. Often I stood at a location across the creek from his home. Some things are meant to be. Arriving here has been coming home again. We are both certain that I was meant to be in this place. Glancing again at the tree, I wish meeting Argils` Mother had been possible.

Our Mothers, both departed, especially loved the holiday season, loved to decorate, loved to love really. The tree is decorated with love, a mixture of treasures from our Mothers, and special items I collected over the years. As we carefully placed lights and garland, it did not escape me that seven years ago, I stood by my Mothers bed as she left the world. Carrying on her traditions, some things are meant to be. Glancing across the room at my trio of snoozing labs, nothing could be more true. Growing up, there were often up to three dogs of dubious mixed heritage as part of the family. Clearly I see Peppy, Tramp and little Reject (he really was loved) gamboling along the rocky shore of Georgian Bay, and hear equally as clearly the joyful lilting laugh of my Mother, enjoying life and the sight of dog play. Talley ,Bridget and Doobie now live play and share my life near the Sassafras and Bohemia Rivers. My Mothers` daughter, some things were meant to be. History has a way of repeating itself.

That I found and followed the path to becoming a dog trainer was also meant to be. My Mother showed me the way, with her love of all creatures great and small. I am blessed to be living the life I was meant to be. My Mother played no small part in that. I regret she lived not long enough to share in my dog training adventures and labbie stories; she is with me still however, as I live the life she would have wanted for me. The sun dancing across the tree branches tells me it is so.

Wishing for all lives filled with love laughter joy and furry friends. 

Leslie and the Labbies