Life, Love and Longing

This has been a summer of mixed blessings. At the end of June, CJ's body gave out. X-rays showed a series of compressed discs in his back which the vet said were due to degenerative hip disease--he was throwing his weight forward to keep pressure off his hips, humping his back in such a way that the discs pushed together. I had to make the difficult decision to have him put down.

Where I live, we're fortunate to have several area vets who are affiliated with Lap of Love, a network of veterinarians who offer hospice and in-home euthanasia. Dr. Brent Martin responded to my call and helped CJ pass over the rainbow bridge while Samara and I held his big body and sang to him.

In late July, my beloved cat, Oliver, died in my arms. One minute he was up on the cat tree, the next he was on the floor gasping and then he was gone. Consensus was that he'd somehow gotten into poison, what kind we'll never know. His death was mercifully quick but emotionally devastating.

For several weeks I'd get up in the morning expecting to see my charming loudmouth on the garage roof outside my bedroom window waiting to be let in or CJ's big cinnamon brindled body stretched out on the dog bed in the living room wagging his tail as I made coffee. Their missing energy/presence was palpable. Poppy kept sniffing at the blanket CJ lay on when I took him to the vet and nosing my bed where Oliver held court. We all sensed the empty space which had been filled so recently by these two lovely animals.

I waited for Oliver for 17 years and am a adherent to the theory that a house is not a home without a cat. Cats have always been my first choice for pets. Soft fur, huge purrs, and the comforting warmth of a furry body curled up on my lap... I started looking at adoptable cats at my local shelter--listening to my heart, visiting to see if there was a special spark between me and another purr-buddy. No one captured me. Figuring I wasn't ready, I slowed down the search deciding that the right cat would find me. I never once thought I'd consider another a dog... until I saw Kas' picture.

Something about his floppy ears and goofy posture just called to me. And let me be honest, with CJ gone,  Poppy has turned her energetic attentions on my senior beagle, Jimmy, who simply doesn't have the size or tolerance for her unabashed terrier nature. What if another big blockhead were to come into my life?

Stay tuned as the story continues...

Debut...

My sister's home on the Central Coast seems a continent away from Richmond. It's also the only retreat at which I can afford to stay for a whole week. I just had to help with the dishes and be good company. That I could do.

T and K live on five acres of low, rolling hills studded with live and scrub oak. Their property, situated between two high ridges, has been left largely as nature created it; the oaks clothed in the colors of moss and lichen, small stands of bright green ferns follow the course of an underground spring to the southwest quarter and darker green bracken grows near another small spring frequented by deer, fox, quail and other California wildlife. Such a haven of natural beauty...

When you first arrive you notice the quiet immediately. Then birdsong begins to emerge from the soundscape of oak leaves softly pattering in the breeze and an occasional rooster crowing far off in the distance sounds almost ghostly. No sirens, no highway noise... just the blessed quiet of the country. A perfect place to rest and forget the busy world on the other side of the ridge.

T and I didn't plan any major outings during my visit; a pancake breakfast and street fair in Aromas on Sunday morning that she wanted to attend, and maybe a visit to Logos Books, Santa Cruz' version of Moe's. Our intention was to enjoy some good down time together, you know, sister stuff: lots of talking, maybe some drawing or painting, walking or just sitting around in our pajamas doing absolutely nothing. That kind of idle time is a luxury in both our lives right now.

Mind Adventures

The freak-out phase of owning a pit-mix puppy is abating. Next up is "Educate Thyself." Great. I crave more time on the computer... NOT!

Nap time=my computer time

About a year ago, a friend turned me on to Paco Collars, a Berkeley based company that makes sturdy, beautiful dog collars, and the owner, Ana Poe, works with rescued pits. Besides coming to admire the talent and determination with which she's building her business, I also admire Ana's work with rescue dogs. I've been reading Huckleberry's blog. (Huckleberry was a very handsome blue pit/pit mix that she fostered.) It seemed to me, from reading Huck's blog, that training a pit/mix takes an inordinate amount of time. (I don't have inordinate amounts of spare time!) And, in the end, despite the hard work, time, attention and effort, Ana still had to make the difficult and heart-rending decision to put Huck down. (How on earth am I, an utter novice, going to be able to distinguish a "red flag" and discern hidden aggression in dog's personality?) This was only one of the concerns behind my adamant refusal to consider JL's suggestion that we get a pit puppy after Joy died.

Mind Games

I'm freaking out.

I just took on a pit mix puppy that JL wants to name "Green Bean."

"Really?" (That question comes with a tinge of sarcasm.)

What had I done? My kid is gaga over this newcomer (so am I) and now he wants to give the puppy a weird name. Even his girlfriend likes it. Perfect. No, no, no... Let's start again.

Poppy at 10 weeks

I'm freaking out because I fear my life is about to be turned upside down and inside out by my emotional response to a puppy. Well, how else do you respond to being handed a 10 week old, 12 pound bundle of fur, toenails and tongue? Yep. With your heart. Then, within 24 hours, all your deepest fears and anxieties creep in to that "first blush" and you start freaking out.

"How do I feed her? Where can I find training resources? How does my community feel about pit bull type dogs? Is my town one of those unfriendly to pits? Can I afford the fees for shots, spaying and training?" The questions are getting very close to overwhelming what little I know about dog-rearing and what's left of my common sense.

Heart Speak

July 5 - Snoozing

On July 5, 2011, I was at my neighbor's teasing him about his love of Dodge trucks - he'd rather sit in the cab, having a conversation over a cold one. than go into the comfort of his house or back yard - when his nephew, a young man with huge, neonate eyes walked up to us with a puppy in his arms. Those dark eyes were pleading his case (and hers) before he'd uttered a word.

"Please, I just want to find her a good home. I can't keep her and if I don't find her a good home, she'll be bait."

I reached out and he put her into my hands. Slippery, loose puppy skin covered in reddish tan fur, white toes, black tips on her ears and nose that was smudged with white on the left side. The warmest coppery brown eyes I'd ever seen looked up into mine and I fell in love. But... wait...

Damn. She was a pit bull type pup...