Storm Week: Wednesday Wimp

(Diary of a Wimpy Dog)

The brunt of today's storm has yet to arrive, and yet I couldn't get Louie out the door for a walk. I think it's the poodle part of him that doesn't "do" water. Pick up his leash on any sunny day (which, let's be honest, is almost every day in San Diego), and he bounces up and down like a pogo stick, so anxious is he to get out and see the neighborhood sights.

Something tells me that by Friday, after being cooped up for five days, he'll be willing to venture out in a shower.

(This video might not play for you. It's a "known" blogger issue. Which means you just need to keep coming back and trying. How's that for suspense?)

Food Week: Dog Donuts

With tomorrow's impending gluttony, I just couldn't eat something good enough to post about (despite a lead on a Peruvian restaurant). Thankfully, Louie--the cockapoo with a bottomless stomach--agreed to take one for Stray Carrier Pigeon, and let me cook for him.

While the canine carrot biscotti was intriguing, I don't make anything for a dog that requires more than five ingredients. I hardly cook anything for myself that requires more than five ingredients. So Louie got garlic-spiced donuts. I've never had a garlic-spiced human donut before, but they do exist.

Onto the preparations:

(Cutting out the donuts with a measuring cup and pill bottle top.)

(Louie waiting patiently.)

(Cooked and cooling.)

(He's polite enough not to bite my finger.)

(Not bad. They could've used a little more garlic, but I'm declaring them good enough for a celebrity to eat.)

It's been two hours and Louie hasn't shown any signs of stomach distress, so I am calling these biscuits a success.

Related

(Grandpa Joe and Louie.)

Today I saw all four of my cousins together, for the first time in I-don't-know-how-long. One of them I haven't seen in over ten years. That reunion only lasted two minutes, but I'll take what I can get.

We had gathered in Ventura County for the baptism of a cousin's newborn. After the pomp and circumstance, there was lunch outside, photos shared via iPhones, a chicken coop, a trio of dogs, LOTS of family, and plenty of good conversation.

It was also a chance for BO to talk with my oldest brother in their second time meeting (the first being our wedding).

It was a chance for me to talk with my God Daughter, whom I haven't seen in four years.

It was a chance for my grandpa to tell us about another auto company he almost worked for (I think I will always be finding out more about his career).

BO and I drove six hours round trip today. I would've driven to Florida in a Miata without air conditioning or a radio, and no carpool lane, to make this happen.

May 18th

(Louie, wishing you a happy birthday, Mom.)

Shorn

Louie's been acting up a bit lately. I think having a stranger take all his hair might have put him back in his canine place.

Dog Treats

It takes some sort of Herculean strength to go out of your way to be nice to others when you aren't in the best place emotionally.

When a new, middle-aged barista started at Starbucks at few months ago, he took an immediate interest in Louie. But Louie's kind of a shy guy, and when this barista would come at him, he'd do everything from cower to growl. The barista made it his mission to win Lou over. Their relationship started gradually, with a hand extended for a sniff, then a scratch behind the ears, and then the shoulders. They were getting pretty well, and then the barista stepped it up by bringing Greenies for Louie.

From my conversations with the barista, the Greenies seem to have started at the same time that he began having some personal problems, financial and familial. And he occasionally doesn’t charge Bryan or me for our purchases.

Recently, Bryan told me that the barista wouldn’t accept payment for his latte, saying, “You’re a good person.”

I don’t pretend to think that me and my husband and our little dog figure into this barista’s life in any significant way. But it seems like he’s going out of his way to be kind, when the world is being pretty unkind to him. Like he’s embarked on a caffeinated path back to a better place for himself.

Pack Animals

(Frannie's quite a friendly dog.)

(Louie explores Bowling Ball Beach.)

(My favorite hike of the week.)

If I have one complaint about the week in Mendocino County, it's that the locals weren't terribly friendly. When not writing, reading, talking, or hiking, I was running the area's beautiful roads and trails. It was a good way to clear my head...except when I was being chased, first by four geese, and then four chihuahuas.

Who knew a change of scenery would be so helpful to my writing? It's not like I needed to hole myself away in order to write--I'm already motivated on a daily basis. And it's not like I needed the time to write--I already write on a daily basis. But it was indeed the change of scenery--both the landscape and the company of thoughtful, generous writers--that made all the difference.

Traveling Companion

(Louie, post-vet appointment.)

I'll soon be leaving for a week in northern California at the house of a writer friend, where three of us will be reading and writing and talking, but not watching TV or YouTube. Ahh, bliss.

Louie will be coming with me, and will need a vet certificate to board the plane--a dog's version of valid ID. I hope his bling (dog tag and license) don't set off the metal detector.

The vet we've been seeing for two years is very competent, and very expensive. So I used this health certificate as an opportunity to try out a different vet. I think he's our new vet.

His practice may not have a website, a fancy waiting room mural, or refrigerator logo magnets. But it has really friendly staff who dote over Louie like he's a hollywood dog. The vet's the type of guy who probably surfs on his lunch hour. And he didn't even try to sell me on another teeth cleaning.

Day Five: Groundhog Day

(Temporary cone reprieve at the park.)

The vet saw the shadow of Louie's cone, and gave him five more days with his neck accessory.

Day Four: Patent Pending

(Louie ventures into caveman territory by creating a tool.)

With all the sympathy treats Louie's been getting this week, he's found a way to get more bang for his duck-and-potato buck: using his cone as a shovel for crumbs.

Day Three: Louie Gets Cocky

(Louie gets a little sun.)

Not only has he gotten the hang of walking with the cone, he's putting a little confidence into it. When his legs get into a canter, the cone picks up a little rhythmic swagger. Watch out, bitches.

Conehead: Day Two

Today, Louie learned that if he gives BO and myself an especially pathetic look, he will stay well fed with dog cookies.

What he's still working on: if his cone bumps into something, he needs to back up and try again at a different angle.

For the curious, the cone is an attempt to get an eye injury to heal. It's been several weeks with no improvement.

He's Had Better Days

Far From Home

At Starbucks today, a taxi cab pulled into the parking lot. Which is a bit unusual for the area, because we are solidly in a suburb. Turns out it was driven by a French man, with his daughter in the back seat. They got drinks, then came outside and the girl sat next to me while the father went to his taxi.

I had Louie with me, as well as our neighbor's dog, Dee Dee. After sitting precociously next to me, the girl asked if she could pet Dee Dee. I said of course. And then, as the girl was standing there petting this yellow lab that was as big as her, she informed me that, "A wet nose means a dog is well."

I knew Dee Dee was well by the wagging tail. If you're petting Dee Dee, and then you stop, she'll nudge you until you resume. It's really very sweet.

The girl said she wanted a dog, but couldn't because she lived in an apartment. And then her father came and got her, and they walked back to his cab. As they drove away, I wondered what had brought their taxi cab up to this area. And then I wondered what had brought them to this part of the world.

Dog Years

(Louie gets a birthday snack from my mom.)

Complement

I used to think Louie needed me. That he depended on me for food and shelter. Until we went for a walk and he scrounged half a hot dog from a bush. Then I realized he could get along just fine without me. Although I would like to think he'd be a little less fulfilled, less happy.

Bryan is sick right now with some cold/flu bug. He could get his own medication, cook his own dinner, maybe even massage his own head. But I'd like to think that if he had to, he'd be a little less fulfilled, less happy. I know if the roles were reversed, I would be.

Must Love Dogs

When you're little, you think friends are found at school. As I've gotten older, I've realized there are many, many more places to find wonderful, interesting people. This afternoon I went to a party hosted by one of the dog owners who's a regular at the park Louie and I frequent. It was really nice to chat with these people about something other than kibble or anal glands.

When you're little, you also have no problem correcting a peer's errors. Tonight at the park, I saw a man I often talk with. He's a Chinese immigrant, and taking ESL night classes. But...his English is terrible. (His dog's really cute, though!) In speaking, I think he focuses on speed at the expense of pronunciation. Either that or his teacher sucks. After the last time I'd talked with him, I told myself that next time, if I didn't know what the heck was saying, I'd ask him to clarify. But when I saw him cheerily approach me this evening, his cute little dog at his side, I knew I couldn't. And of course I didn't. I hope as a teacher, in a classroom setting, I'll be able to make these corrections. Not having a cute little poodle around might help.

Getting to Know Your Neighbors

I sometimes complain to Bryan that our neighborhood is white, rude, elitist, and boring. And then today at Starbucks I sat next to a homeless couple who’d ridden there on bicycles. They were reading the newspaper, and the woman was concerned about the situation in Darfur. Her name was Heather. I wish I knew this because I’d talked to her. I saw her name on her Starbucks cup.

At the table beside me was a man and his two grandchildren. They were the nicest kids. The girl was really interested in Louie. But Louie is initially afraid of everyone. So the girl crouched down and approached him real slowly, so carefully. She quickly earned his trust.

Later, the grandfather told me he’s taking care of the kids because his daughter isn’t well mentally. The children and their mother have been “camping” for the last several months. The grandfather is now working with his ex-son-in-law to transfer custody of the children from his daughter to his son-in-law. Tomorrow’s the court date. The grandfather said he’d asked the kids what they’d like for Christmas, and the boy said a home. The girl wants to go to school.

People are so generous with the things they'll tell you.

The Ecstasy and the Agony

The thrill of a particularly muddy park session, the agony of a bath.

Veteran's Day

It may be November, but the weather's still wonderful.