Category Archives: Family Lilfe

From Facebook, “Because of Love, and It’s true! The Old Ones

I read this on Facebook a long time ago, and recently a Facebook Friend reposted it.  It touched me as much now as it did when I first read it.  I am sharing it on Blyss Blog Encore with my readers who will probably enjoy this as much as I do and be glad I came upon it again.

Because of Love!! “This is a true story”!

A brother and sister had made their usual hurried, obligatory pre- Christmas visit to the little farm where dwelt their elderly parents with their small herd of horses. The farm was where they had grown up and it had been named Lone Pine Farm because of the huge pine, which topped the hill behind the farmhouse. Through the years the tree had become a talisman to the old man and his wife, and a landmark in the countryside. The young siblings had fond memories of their childhood here, but the city hustle and bustle added more excitement to their lives, and called them away to a different life.

The old folks no longer showed the horses, for the years had taken their toll, and getting out to the barn on those frosty mornings was getting harder, but it gave them a reason to get up in the mornings and a reason to live. They sold a few foals each year, and the horses were their reason for joy in the morning and contentment at day’s end.

Angry, as they prepared to leave, the young couple confronted the old folks “Why do you not at least dispose of The Old One.” She is no longer of use to you. It’s been years since you’ve had foals from her. You should cut corners and save so you can have more for yourselves. How can this old worn out horse bring you anything but expense and work? Why do you keep her anyway?”

The old man looked down at his worn boots, holes in the toes, scuffed at the barn floor and replied, ” Yes, I could use a pair of new boots.”

His arm slid defensively about the Old One’s neck as he drew her near. With gentle caressing he rubbed her softly behind her ears. He replied quietly, “We keep her because of love. Nothing else, just love.”

Baffled and impatient, the young folks wished the old man and his wife a Merry Christmas and headed back toward the city as darkness stole through the valley.

The old couple shook their heads in sorrow that it had not been a happy visit. A tear fell upon their cheeks. How is it that these young folks do not understand the peace of the love that filled their hearts?

So it was, that because of the unhappy leave-taking, no one noticed the smell of the insulation smoldering on the frayed wires in the old barn. None saw the first spark fall. None but the “Old One”.

In a matter of minutes, the whole barn was ablaze and the hungry flames were licking at the loft full of hay. With a cry of horror and despair, the old man shouted to his wife to call for help as he raced to the barn to save their beloved horses. But the flames were roaring now, and the blazing heat drove him back. He sank sobbing to the ground, helpless before the fire’s fury. His wife back from calling for help cradled him in her arms, clinging to each other, they wept at their loss.

By the time the fire department arrived, only smoking, glowing ruins were left, and the old man and his wife, exhausted from their grief, huddled together in front of the barn. They were speechless and stunned as they rose from the cold snow covered ground. They nodded thanks to the firemen as there was nothing anyone could do now. The old man turned to his wife, resting her white head upon his shoulder as his shaking old hands clumsily dried her tears with a frayed red bandana. Brokenly he whispered, “We have lost much, but God has spared our home on this eve of Christmas. Let us gather strength and climb the hill to the old pine where we have sought comfort in times of despair. We will look down upon our home and give thanks to God that it has been spared and pray for our beloved most precious gifts that have been taken from us.

And so, he took her by the hand and slowly helped her up the snowy hill as he brushed aside his own tears with the back of his old, withered hand.

The journey up the hill was hard for their old bodies in the steep snow. As they stepped over the little knoll at the crest of the hill, they paused to rest, looking up to the top of the hill, the old couple gasped and fell to their knees in amazement at the incredible beauty before them.

Seemingly, every glorious, brilliant star in the heavens was caught up in the glittering, snow-frosted branches of their beloved pine, and it was aglow with heavenly candles. And poised on its top- most bough, a crystal crescent moon glistened like spun glass Never had a mere mortal created a Christmas tree such as this. They were breathless as the old man held his wife tighter in his arms.

Suddenly, the old man gave a cry of wonder and incredible joy. Amazed and mystified, he took his wife by the hand and pulled her forward. There, beneath the tree, in resplendent glory, a mist hovering over and glowing in the darkness was their Christmas gift. Shadows glistening in the night light.

Bedded down around the “Old One” close to the trunk of the tree, was the entire herd, safe.

At the first hint of smoke, she had pushed the door ajar with her muzzle and had led the horses through it. Slowly and with great dignity, never looking back, she had led them up the hill, stepping cautiously through the snow. The foals were frightened and dashed about. The skittish yearlings looked back at the crackling, hungry flames, and tucked their tails under them as they licked their lips and hopped like rabbits. The mares that were in foal with a new years crop of babies, pressed uneasily against the “Old One” as she moved calmly up the hill to safety beneath the pine. And now she lay among them and gazed at the faces of the old man and his wife.

Those she loved she had not disappointed. Her body was brittle with years, tired from the climb, but the golden eyes were filled with devotion as she offered her gift —LOVE. Because of love. Only Because of love.

Tears flowed as the old couple shouted their praise and joy… And again the peace of love filled their hearts.

This is a true story.

Willy Eagle.

This is an Inspirational message sent to a small group of people on Facebook. My hope is that it will make your day just a little bit better.

Judy Gaik

October 24, 2018

 

Blyss Kennels on the phone and on Zoom

It is the first Sunday in 2021 and here I sit  home alone.  I am alone because my boyfriend has left early to go home to visit his son and grandchildren whom he did not see over Christmas.   However, I had something nice to look forward to, a Zoom meeting of the Borzoi Club of Greater New York.  It was lead by the President  Elisabeth Szymanski, who did a superb job.  The Club plans to hold Specialty shows in May and September.  Coming up soon is another Zoom meeting of the Central NJ Hound Club Association, also planning upcoming shows.  And what about the Borzoi Club of America’s National Specialty Show in May, 2021, in Wilmington, OH?  But will they happen, I ask?  Will we all get our vaccines to adequately create herd immunity and make it safe to mingle in public places?  So many questions.  So few answers.

But here in the United States there are fabulously wealthy, very successful people and their wives who have been interviewed on television who believe our vaccine should be given to people who live in other places first, meaning, on other continents.  They have no sympathy for what happens to those of us living in the United States.  These are individuals who were able to amass great fortunes here, in a country with their talents in the fields of technology and computer science were valued, and were able to market their products  around the world.  Yet, they have no concern or appreciation for the country who made their educational or professional opportunities available for them to garner their success.  It was not a coincidence their spectacular success occurred here where it did.  Yet, they feel no need to appreciate or give credit to their own country for their success in any way, and they look down upon it and its ordinary citizens with a repulsed disdain.  They lost my respect and admiration long ago.    I regard those kind of opinions that are hurtful to Americans to be traitorous.

Other thoughts that have entered my realm of consciousness concern the ongoing saga of my health, the various parts of my body that do not work properly, causing me discomfort and concern.  There are two big doctor appointments with specialists on my calendar already for January 2021.  This, added to the travails of the world, can truly break me down into despair.  Somehow, I am eating better and gaining needed weight.  I am reaching out more to friends by writing, emailing or calling.  Let my messages be what they are, welcome news or poor intrusions, so be it, whatever.  At least I care enough to reach out and perhaps touch the tip of another’s finger with that of my own to let some soul know they are not alone.  We have viruses and neoplasms floating around us and in us but we must live on regardless of the horrors we are asked to endure.  I have seen death, and watched people die sitting at their bedside.  It is not pretty.  Medicine as a profession is still helpless  many a time when you might expect it to succeed.  Give me strength the next time I must encounter it, even if it is that of someone I love, one of my dogs, or for myself.

For the New Year, may I be blessed with tranquility and the comfort of silence and peace.  May my thoughts be serene and my love rewarded in kind.  I love my Silken Windhound, Kensey, and my boyfriend of ten months, with whom I am still happy.   Life has a way of going on from unhappiness and trauma, and I am in some place away from all of that now.  I wish the same for all who take the time to stop and read this Blog.

Home with Tresor & Jelly
Mikhailya with me at Delalware Bay

A voice in cyberspace resonates at Blyss

Once again in a most unexpected way it is  words from a stranger on Facebook that someone shared to my feed that has caused me to take pause and reevaluate my psychological  outlook and my interpretation of the most painful events of my life that have transpired starting in childhood, culminating with the death of my last borzoi in 2019.  It was a long run on tragedies and I have been beaten down by them, almost to nothing yet am very physically strong and resilient  beyond anything one should expect to be able to do.   Yet here I am still standing if not shattered and shaken to my core.   How sad it is to have had to live through these tribulations, most of which were unnecessary.  I was not alone in my misery, it was due to profound parental dysfunctionality resulting in our suffocation, and all of my siblings endured the pain with me, none coming out any better for the experience.  It threw us into odd directions as adults, along tangents that  could never intersect, leaving us lonely and alone forever.  My joy was my borzoi, given to  me by my husband, Bob in 2002, and the jewel of the kennel was my beloved Opal (Raybo Opalesque of Byss) in January 2005.  I never saw, nor have ever seen, such an exquisite creature, nor loved anything more than I did her, canine or human.   She was the daughter I never had.  My great love was reciprocated in kind and then some.  But perfect bliss was not to be for I am me, and by 19 months she had passed away from a congenital kidney disease and her littermates followed shortly after.  Breeding is not a straight line.  The event took place fourteen and a half years ago but it is like fourteen minutes.  I ruminate, I cry, I grieve, I write, I speak of her and my never failing love and the loss I suffered.  I know it is wrong but I could not help how I felt.  Fourteen  years of grief wrestled me down and I am drowning.  I have almost died of grief related issues by becoming anorexic and having cancer twice in seven years.  Opal wasted and so have I.  I have longed to be where she is.  Life is not livable for me without her.  I needed her spirit to keep me going but it is gone, and has been gone a long time now.  However, I  today I knew I was wrong.  Opal is the best thing I ever had, and the best thing that ever happened to me, according to Elizabeth Ammons, from Lessonslearnedinlife.com.    She writes as follows:

Found in my Facebook feed, December 2, 2020. L.C.

You can shed tears because they are gone, or you can smile because they lived.

You can close your eyes and pray they will come back, or you can open your eyes and see all that they left for you.

Your heart can be empty because you can’t see them, or you can be full of the love you shared.

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday, or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember only that they are gone, or you can cherish their memory and let it live on.

You can cry and close your mind and feel empty, or you can do what they would want.

Smile…. Open your heart…. Love…. And go on.

These are words I need to read, study and hear.  My grief of 14 years diminishes Opal.  I should celebrate her.  Her memoir,  and that of all my borzoi, should bring me joy, not make me wish for my death.  Yes, she is gone, as are they, but in time we will be together again as if no time had separated us.  I must have more faith in destiny.  My ugly childhood is over.  My borzoi loved me unconditionally and gave me back my happiness, or perhaps gave me a measure of happiness I never had.

 

 

A romantic update at Blyss

As I moved along last month, in spite of my desire not to, in order to put myself out of my predictable, future misery, I perceived in the far distance a white flag of peace.  It could almost have been missed it was so remote and brief.  Could it be I see the words in a text message after a month of deafening silence, apologizing and wishing to return to my love?  Yes, the very same lover who melted down and disappeared when  I needed him and his love and strength the most…..   But that was then and this is now…..  Could I forgive him, he asked…..  I replied there was nothing to forgive, please come back.

It would not be what many would have done, but I cannot be lead around like a cow in a herd.  I take the risks, the unwise endeavors, the degrading gestures, show my tears, bear my breasts.  It does not matter if it is a borzoi or a lover.  Love is love for me.  Once I love, it will not end pretty.  Love charges me a huge fee but in spite of being willing to pay the price I often lose my investment.

But today, he has returned, transformed as if by magic, to the lover he was before he was seized by his own rage and exited the scene, not even knowing why or where he was going.   His journey took him back to me.  I love him unconditionally, like my borzoi, and took him back.  He is my Adorable One, my Little Rock Star, since we spend so much time watching YouTube videos and he knows so much about 1960s British invasion rock music and the derivative bands it spawned, not to mention his guitar collection.  I admit I have an encyclopedic knowledge of the subject myself, although my knowledge of classical music and opera equals it.   We focus on our love and watch the music videos and rock documentaries of the musicians, amazing how  many there are, and just escape our pain for the laughter hat comes from silly things.   Someday, one of us will die first, and will leave the other shattered and heartbroken.  Until then, we are blissfully in love.  We are happy to share our joy with Kensie, although I know how much we are missing by not having a pair of borzoi to watch over things here.  He does not get it though, and I  believe it would be, how shall I say, “Too, too much…..”.  Fortunately, Kensie does a wonderful job behaving just like a borzoi, and that is a very nice, endearing quality of hers.

For a year that commenced in a very bad way, a year that saw COVID-10 descend upon the Human Race and kill hundreds of thousands of people, well over 220,000 Americans, I can look back on it and see stars against the black background.

At Blyss, at home, everywhere: walking to death.

I feel like  how a dog from the past must have felt trying to enter England, in a long, seemingly endless quarantine.  But no, I am a human being in the USA and I never left home.  I just cannot go out anywhere safely.  To be safe, I must stay home and be alone.  However, walking around town is allowed if safe social distancing of six feet is maintained.  Still, that does not satisfy my never ending gnawing need for intimacy.  With so much time on my hands and because I am so good at procrastinating leaving my lawn not mowed and my flower beds not weeded, I have decided to write on my blog at Blysskennels.us tonight.  I have been procrastinating writing on my Blog, too, showing how bad I have really been and how low my spirits have sunk.

Walking to Death

April 7, 2020

I am told it is a remedy, but tell me,

What is it that I see on my walks that makes for improvement?

It began in mid March and now it is early April.  Hateful spring.

No one knows when it will end.  It could be a very long time from now.

Although it remains cold and windy from winter,

I see there are splashes of color now: yellows and pinks, from flowering bushes and trees,

Breaking through.  I contemplate them.  They bring a hope or sorts

Having seen only grey, dark branches for so long that appeared to be dead.

It was an illusion, I thought, that this was a death of the flora, on the shrubs, on the flowering trees, and especially on the mountain.

Do I see a tiny splash of green there?  I am not sure…..

I know it will be there soon,

And then there will be the miracle of  tiny white Dogwood blossoms scattered among the green

Where they were once abundant…before their own virus came for them.

We live in the day of viruses, and all we can do is walk to death.

Walk them off, walk them away,

Walk them until we tire, walk them until we die.

Walk them with our children, walk them with our dogs,

Walk them with our friends, with our fathers, with our mothers and with our lovers.

How can there be so many places to walk to and so many places to walk from,

And learn so many people’s stories along the way that don’t do anyone any good

For each and every one has one, a story that is

And not about the virus that always lurks behind us now taking souls away.

 

A new life and second chance at Blyss, snatched from the jaws of death

It is October 2020, and one month ago, I faced three harrowing challenges alone.

The first occurred five weeks ago.  A significant other, someone I thought I could love and trust, created an  ugly scene over seemingly nothing, and walked out suddenly, without any explanation that made sense to me.  My emotional makeup makes the acceptance of events like this virtually impossible without intense emotional pain.

A day later, and one week prior to the separation, I had to take Kensie to Garden State Veterinary Specialists in Tinton Falls, NJ for a series of comprehensive tests.  She appeared to be “fading” for lack of a better word, being lethargic, feverish and not eating.  It appeared that at that rate, she could have died.  I wanted to address this prior to my own upcoming health challenge.  Fortunately, all of her tests were normal, adding to the mystery of what was wrong with her.  I had to confess that my intense relationship with my boyfriend had resulted in a diminishment of my attention to her, and she was acting out.  Since the boyfriend left the day prior to the visit to the vet, it was almost immediately that she returned to the old Kensie I knew before.  Only now I notice how very clingy and needy she is emotionally.  She came to me in late January, and due to COVID-19, she was accustomed to having me all to herself.  Apparently, she liked it that way.

The third event occurred exactly four weeks ago.  I had been given a diagnosis of lung cancer and I underwent a surgical procedure to remove the lower lobe of my left lung.  Coupled with the emotional trauma of the precipitous separation of the previous week and the crisis regardingf Kensie’s health, I struggled painfully and long to recover.

We all have our little crises, canines and humans alike, over how we want our love, over how much we want, over how much we need, and over what happens to us when we lose it. The boyfriend ran out of the house in a seemingly fabricated rage over a bad case of nerves.   Kensey felt she lost my love.   And I was in terror over a cancer diagnosis.  It brought out the worse in us all.

As I hate to be alone more than anything in the world, having my borzoi, and now Kensie my Silken Windhound, is essential.  But I do not do so well outside of a relationship with a significant other, either.  But I cannot “fix” that problem as easily as buying a dog.  In fact,  it is in the hands of destiny regarding how it will be resolved.  I have learned I cannot do very much about it. If there were a personal God, He would have had mercy on me long ago having tired of my repetitious prayers and Novenas.   He would have found and sent me the man who truly loved me, free of abuse and abandonment.  But there is no such man  Today,  I walk alone through the maelstroms of bizarre challenges and events that mar my life like a scar.   For they are challenges and events He has put in my life.   Therefore,  I must live them alone but gratefully, with Kensie, today.  For we are partners in recovery from the brink of death.

The Blyss Dream that many will not understand.

Found this on Facebook Sunday, May 31, 2020. I did not create this poetic essay, but I modified it to make it more suited to myself. I found it so appropriate to me. It rang true. I shared it with my Facebook friends and thought I would place my edited version here.
I edited it to more accurately described my unique experience with my own dogs.

THE DREAM THAT MANY WILL NOT UNDERSTAND:

 My Dogs are my personal dream.

 One day when I am very old and when I can not walk anymore, it will be in my heart as a trophy of my memories.

 I met people who taught me something and have the same spirit as I, and I met others that I’m glad I forgot.

 I got wet,

 I felt cold,

I felt warm,

 I was afraid,

 I fell,

 And I stood up,

 I even hurt myself, I have been broken,

 But also, I laughed out loud inside .

 I spoke a thousand times with myself.

 I sang and shouted with joy like a madman,

 And yes … sometimes I cried.

 I have seen wonderful places and lived unforgettable experiences.

 I stopped a thousand times to see a landscape.

 I spoke with perfect strangers, and I forgot people I see every day.

 I went out with my demons inside and returned home with a feeling of absolute peace in my heart.

 I always thought how dangerous it is, knowing that the meaning of courage is to advance even when feeling fear.

 Every time I go out with my dogs, I think about how wonderful they are.

 I stopped talking about it to those who do not understand, and I learned to communicate with others who feel the same as I.

 I have met some amazing people I now call friends from all over this big world because of my dogs.

 I spent money that I did not have, giving up many things I wanted or needed, but all these things are not worth even one special moment with my dogs.

 They are not just a pet or a thing that I own, they are the lost part of my soul and my spirit.

 And when someone says to me: “It’s just a dog”,… I do not answer. I just walk away and smile,

 A dog….. only the person who loves them understands it.

 May God bless my friends and all their dogs….

 And the adventure continues. .

 FEEL FREE TO COPY AND STICK THE TEXT WITH A PHOTO, ON YOUR WALL …

 

 

 

 

 

 

Censorship, beware! Upset at Blyss Kennels over so many things.

I see in the news today, in an attempt to be politically correct, a corporate giant, known for it’s long history and many levels of accurate information dissemination, has enforced censorship on its subscribers rather than letting each of its world wide respected universe of subscribers decide for themselves. This clearly reveals a corporate superiority complex, contempt and lack of respect for us all, by its action of removing the Hollywood icon of 1939, Gone With the Wind (GWTW), from its offerings today. In so doing, the entire country’s First Amendment Rights of Free Speech under the U.S. Constitution are violated.

This was called censorship the last time I looked. GWTW is one of Hollywood’s all time great masterpieces on many levels.  It deserves to be seen for many reasons,  especially from being entertaining, beautiful to watch, to being historically accurate and thereby edifying.

GWTW was a brutally realistic depiction of the South’s punishment and destruction for its slavery based economy by losing the Civil War. It accurately captures the South in decay and then being destroyed, with burned out fields devoid of crops. In addition, all the main characters suffered enormously for their southern, slave based economy. There are no winners here. The loss of the Southern way of life based on slave labor is clearly and unequivocally depicted.

Moreover, tragedy, symbols of moral punishment, follow the southern main characters to the film’s long end:

Scarlet and Rhet’s young daughter dies in a horrible riding accident,

Scarlet suffers a miscarriage,

Scarlet and Rhet, husbands and wife, hate one another and are both alcoholics,

Melanie dies horrifically in childbirth leaving a small son and a grieving husband behind,

Scarlet then realizes that her long time and illicit love for Melanie’s husband, Ashley Wilkes, has always been unrequited, and

At long last, Rhet leaves Scarlet when she wants him to stay with her with his most famous line of all:

“Frankly, My Dear, I don’t give a damn” , racy words for 1939.

There is no victory lap here for the South and many lessons to be learned for getting it wrong. Yet to this day, while handling perhaps our county’s most sensitive period in our history, I do not believe a film as beautiful to watch as it gracefully depicts terminal punishment on the loser has ever been created again in Hollywood.

A stunningly beautiful young, English actress and a newcomer, Vivien Leigh, won a Best Actress Oscar her first time out playing Scarlet O’Hara with her heart and soul on constant view. Hattie McDaniel, an American of color, won Best Supporting Actress.   This was the first time a person of color won an Oscar.  The film also won a Best Picture Oscar and several others. GWTW stands up as well today as it did when it was released, and it is as respected and revered today as it was when it was made, as is the novel by Margaret Mitchell, a Southern woman, upon which it is based, when it was published. The film is a huge Hollywood icon of excellence that subsequent films tried to emulate but failed.

So sad and sorry to see this happen. This is a loss for HBO that I hope other services do not emulate.

Tears for America.

Lorene Connolly, M.L.S.

Blyss Kennels, Mountainside, NJ

 

 

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Sheltering in Place at Blyss Kennels for three months; with Kensie

I have been quarantined in my home since the end of February. And although I have gotten caught up on many chores and my “To Do” list is short again, I am deeply saddened for all that we are going through as a human family. Even church is not open for Sunday services, you have to watch it on Zoom or Facebook, and I have not seen my son and his family, including my grand-daughter, since Christmas Eve. This all feels like a very long time ago. There have been no dog club meetings since the end of February, and all the dog shows I was to have attended have been either postponed or canceled. I keep up with close friends and family by phone, email and FB, but that is not the preferred way. I rarely if ever go to a store, and I am fortunate that my town has a team of volunteers put together by the town to shop for the senior citizens, and I am very lucky and grateful for that. Then, my new dog, Kensie, a Silken Windhound, arrived at the end of January. My predicament would have been much worse without her. Now that spring is here, there is the lawn and garden to keep me busy. But I want all my friends whom I would normally see at the dog club meetings and the shows, to know they are missed. I feel badly that no one has met Kensie yet outside of the neighborhood because I have not left town. I thought I would share some of my Blyss Kennels photos, even though my 10 days of sharing is over. I realized I have so many beautiful photographs, especially of my one litter. Perhaps no one but me really cares, but they were just such happy times here. Because they were so ephemeral, I am grateful for the many photos I have, and the beautiful portraits done by Maxine Bochnia of DigiArt.  I am so glad I took the time to remember to take them. They are also at my website, Blysskennels.us. I am open to phone calls to reminisce about the shows 20 years ago when so many people, borzoi breeders, were there whom I truly loved but are gone now, when many people traveled far in their big RVs to come to borzoi specialties or large clusters, when the borzoi entries were large at the specialties and there seemed to be more owner-handled borzoi than there are today.

Can those Halcion days be really over? Can so many special dog women I know have really died of breast or ovarian cancer recently and one more entered hospice this week, expected to die any day ….. And my most loved mentor and friend of all gone, after suffering for a year in a nursing home in PA. Cumulatively, it really is all too much. Hold your borzoi, Silkens, and other dogs, horses or donkeys you may own tight at all times.  When they are gone, they are gone forever, never to return.

 

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Kensie arrives at Blyss

I have endured much since Jelly’s death nine months ago, trying to accept my decision not to acquire another dog, or at least not another borzoi.  It has been a long time to be alone and unhappy, and I will admit to having made some grave mistakes.  They were followed by a very difficult period of serious health problems, more than one, but not excluding a worsening of a depression.  I sought relief where I had done so before, with my physicians, and it was agreed that the time might be right to consider bringing another dog into my life but a breed other than a borzoi.  After much consideration,  I decided to acquire a beautiful Silken Windhound from Mary Childs of Wind ‘n Satin Kennels in Ohio.  She is a long time borzoi breeder, and active, life time member of the Borzoi Club of America.  In recent years she has taken to breeding Silken Windhounds.  When she learned I was interested in acquiring one, she contacted me.  She  happened to have the most perfect individual in her kennel for me, a four-and-a-half-year old bitch, a Grand Champion who had recently whelped a litter and was ready to place in a regular home.  After the sharing of some  photos, it was confirmed that this perfect angel would come to Blyss.  Her name is Kensie.  Immediately upon her arrival, Kensie knew what she was there for, and that I was her person.  She never whimpered or looked back, she never uttered a sound of disturbance or complaint, or put a foot wrong.  She simply adored me upon entering my home as if she knew she had a reason to be there, mainly being to heal my broken heart.