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.