Suburban Landscapes
A Blyss Kennels Line of Demarcation

The death of my last borzoi, Paris in July 2014 has brought me full circle back to 2002 when I no longer had a dog. Looking back, I see I passed through a journey as my level of interest in matters of the world diminished as that of my interest in dogs, especially borzoi, grew. Like all journeys, there were good days and bad, some laughs and some tragedies. It seemed anything and everything that could happen to one person did, as if I were a character in a Greek tragedy. Only the protagonist lived to tell the tale so perhaps my life story would qualify as a comedy. I do not see it that way, but I will leave that differentiaton to literary critics to judge.
One day, my husband Bob and I had the opportunity to purchase a young male borzoi that, we were told, was a show dog and needed to complete his Champion Dog title. We knew this was a stretch for us, because neither of us had ever shown a dog in conformation. However, it was something I thought I always wanted to do so we said yes. The breeder said it would be “fun and easy”! We purchased “Casanova” and brought him home to live with us. By the end of the week, we realized we needed a new house.
Blyss Kennels began that moment, but especially in September of the year 2003 when we bought our home that would serve as our kennel, too, Blyss House on the first ridge of the Watchung Mountain. That was when we acquired more borzoi: Mikhailya, Paris and Opal, soon followed, and everything began in earnest.
And so it ended, too, abruptly in 2011 really when Bob died suddenly. I had to downsize and although I stayed in the same town, the new Blyss House and its grounds were half the size of what it was. However, my borzoi were old dogs by then, and over the course of the next eighteen months, one by one they passed on. This then is the Fini, to the telling of their story.
My Blogs will not appear after this point in order that I can put them in a book format. I hope to have this prepared by January 2015, an event that will be well publicized. Please consult the Blysskennels.us website for updates. At that time, I plan to begin anew, Blyss Blog Encore. It will be interesting to see how I am doing and whether or not there is a borzoi at home. Shall I or shall I not continue on my course with my beloved breed of dog? There is much work that needs to be done, and many decisions I need to make. I have no doubt, the next permutation of my Blyss Blog will be as compelling as the current one so many people have come to read, and to return and return. I promise, no one will be disappointment. It can be said with certainty, I have found my voice. Thank you for taking the time to listen.
Blyss Memories: Blyss Kennels
Memories come in many forms. Some are images that float in your mind. Others are recollections triggered by events such as anniversaries. Others are reminisces you experience by things such as lost photographs that you suddenly found or something that may have happened once that you had completely forgotten about. For me, many happy memories are recalled by watching borzoi in the conformation ring because I can recall their dams and sires, and their dams and sires that went before them as they go around. Often, they are related to the Blyss Borzoi.

Today, my memories take me to a place called Blyss Kennels. It resided in a beautiful home at the top of the first ridge of the Watchung Mountain range in Mountainside, NJ. Cut into the side of the mountain itself, it’s landscape was intimately immersed with nature and beauty. There I learned so much about dogs and borzoi. I was privileged to have that special opportunity in my life. Looking back, those are the most enduring memories I have, not the unhappiness others bestowed. That part, sadly, was life’s doing. When, after 2008, I chose to live a life immersed in borzoi, I later realized it had the unforeseen consequences of healing me, a balancing of the scale, from the insidious poisons that only those closest to your heart can administer: Betrayal! In the end, my Blyss Blog is not about me. I am but a looking glass by which the Blyss Borzoi are reflected, and that is how I tell you their story.