Though I face most awesome odds... Thor is helpless... never!

Although he is no 'God of Thunder' tomorrow marks a year since Thor has come to live with us. Ergo, it's his Birthday. I don't care what his stupid papers say. His new life began with us, so I say it's his Birthday.

To repeat the story of how he came to be with us would be, well, redundant. It's filed under my 'notes' on my facebook page.

Last week, I had an illustration, of sorts, of how far he has come.

If I let any of the dogs out together, they like to go visit the neighbors. The neighbors are cool about it, just calling to say 'they're here'! And I traipse out in jammies and slippers, hunt them down, and they come, right away to the car. On this particular morning, I hadn't had my coffee. I opened the door, thinking 'they'll be fine while I grab a cup a joe.' Grabbed the coffee, came back to the front door, and they were gone.

I grab my keys, and my coffee, and stomped out to get them. (Drinking my first cup of coffee while herding wayward Newfoundlands is not a good start to the day) As I get to the end of the driveway, one lone Newf stands alone. Sitting there. Not leaving the driveway. Looking quite pleased with himself. A look that said 'if only dad could see me now'! Sure enough, he was able to resist the peer pressure, and not be disobedient.

As he went back to the house, it was hard to imagine that mangy, stinky, infection filled dog that I had brought home. With windows open. I didn't even touch him without rubber gloves, that first time.

When we lost Thor, Abby had been gone for a little over a month, and it was an awful month. Maddy laid for hours in the driveway, with her head on the ground, waiting. Don wouldn't even come in the house when he came home, he went down back to visit her. We were all so sad.

By the time Thor came, we channeled all of our grief into nurturing him. He thrived. Quickly. It took a couple of months to get his digestive issues under control. We got him fixed. We fed him antibiotics like they were tic-tacs, and the dog I had to physically drag to get in the Jeep, will now fight all the others for shotgun. He is loving, he brings us joy on a daily basis, and is endlessly grateful.

There is no question in my mind who did the 'rescuing' here, and it wasn't me.

Happy Birthday, Thor.

Later that same day.....

Yes kids, I'm back. For those of you who read my blogs over at myspace, you can expect pretty much the same. For those of you who didn't, here is what you can expect. Witty repartee, brilliant, insightful discussions on the structural breakdown of societal values facing our world today, and intricate dialogue of politics and religion. You can expect that. But you won't get it.

What you'll get is exactly as promised in the title. Much Ado about Nothing. A lot of tongue, in a lot of cheek. A lot of sarcasm, and yes, even snark. Ramblings, musings, and rants. A lot of talk about Newfoundlands, and a lot of pictures of Newfoundlands.

My opinions are mine. I own them. That doesn't mean that I expect everyone to blindly agree. Just the opposite. I embrace opposing opinions, I welcome them, and I want to hear them.

In my younger years, the world was so black and white. I would not waiver from where I was, on any given issue. Years, and life, have taught me that there is a lot of gray in the world. I find that gray by being open to other points of view, and will respect whatever you have to say.

I may not agree, but I will respect it.

I'm still new to this format, but I have some friends I'd like to link to. As soon as I figure out how, I'll be adding some other fabulous writers.

Since I haven't been blogging, I've had, on average, 3 posts a day running through my head. (Too bad you missed them-they were quite good). Now that I am up and running, I will be lucky to pull together 3 a year. That's just how I roll.