Josie

Josie is a rescued street dog from China, and who knows what she experienced before she was adopted, but I'm willing to bet it wasn't a lot of fun. When I first started taking care of her, I called her my little land shark. Out on our walks, everything would go in her mouth, and if it was inedible , she'd spit it back out. That's not  an issue for her anymore now that she can count on being fed regularly, and although at home she is happy and relaxed, out in the world she can still  be quite skittish. Any little thing can send her hightailing out of the park, and leave me trailing after her with shredded nerves.

Halfway through this last visit, she came home with a baby's pacifier concealed in her mouth. She carried it with her everywhere, from the couch to the crate to the deck, and maybe it's my imagination, but she seems to be much calmer. On our last morning walk, she saw three dogs walking toward her and turned to run. I said  "Wait Josie, it's just two Pugs and a Ridgeback, nothing you can't handle." For the first time she paused, considered the situation, and decided she probably could handle it. 

So now what, for Josie? Perhaps she'll decide to help others  - coming out with a line of Panicked Pups Pacifiers of her own.  Remember you read it here first...

Rainy Morning

Venus, Vashti and Bruno are hoping it rains all day. I asked Slidell if he agrees, but he's too busy running up and down the stairs after his ball to talk.

Just a Dream

Back here on Wool Street with my quartet of lovelies, I find I often have a reoccuring frightening dream that happens just before waking. In the dream, I see the kibble. I know the kibble is there. The kibble is rolling in the drawer, and yet, although the kibble is close, it does not satisfy. The kibble does not satisfy, and I am tormented by this. My discomfort rises to a level that I am forced to waken before I am ready, and then there is Bruno, sitting by his food bowl, impatient for breakfast, smugly aware that he has once again managed to invade my dreams. See how he laughs?

Buddy Boy Tours

Because I am that rare American who does not drive, never has and probably never will (and I say probably only because of the never say never rule),  I tend to gravitate toward places that are easily walked around and/or have good public transportation. So imagine my dismay when I was being called repeatedly to petsit in the deep suburbs of Novato. The little dog, Buddy Boy, is a joy and the house is lovely, but it's a mile to the nearest good coffee shop, and a mile in the opposite direction to the good food market, with very little of interest in between. I felt bored and isolated, and always dreaded having to come out here. But, I try to do a quasi zen sort of thing,  to go where I'm called and to be where I'm at, but still,  I went whining and complaining.

One bright spot was that Buddy Boy loves to walk as much as I do, and I guess it was around my 4th or 5th visit that I noticed he seemed to know where he was going. So, I decided to try a little experiment - let him decide which way to go, and see what happens. Well, it's been nothing short of amazing! Who knew the suburbs were filled with such beauty?  Gorgeous open spaces to wander endlessly in, ducking down a little side path to stroll through the landscaped gardens of a housing development, rounding a small church to find a charming garden to sit and rest in.  Buddy knows all the best that Novato has to offer, and enjoys sharing that with me.

In truth, though, it hasn't been easy to completely trust a little dog. After all, I'm in totally unfamiliar surroundings, and I don't know a single person here I can call on for help if we really get lost. But the few times I said I think we need to go left when he was headed right,  we really did get lost. So I learned the hard way.

This is what our days look like now. Buddy likes to sleep in until 9:00 or so most mornings, and we wait about an hour after breakfast, so usually around 11:00, we're ready to head out the door. It's always Buddy's call where we go, but before starting out, sometimes I'll say I'd like to drop off a library book, or I need to stop for groceries on the way back, and Buddy adjusts his planned itinerary to accommodate me, and off we go to some amazing 3 or 4 hour hike.

But yesterday Buddy pulled out all the stops! I wanted to get coffee so he dutifully led me downtown to Peets, then we turned left on Redwood, and then right on Olive, and walked for a really, really long time. As usual, I started to get nervous, not knowing where we are, or where we're going, but Buddy is used to my fretting, and continued to patter serenely along. Eventually, he pulled off into a seemingly dead end street, and then there we were, at the entrance to the breathtakingly beautiful Deer Island Open Space. Gorgeous green rolling hills studded with wild iris, and overlooking sparkling marsh land filled with waterbirds of every description. We wandered all over and saw more deer than people, and I knew I could travel the world over and perhaps see many things as beautiful as this place, but forget the rule book  - never, never could anything exceed it's beauty.

We arrived back at his door a full 7 hours later than we left, it was easily a 10 mile hike. We were both footsore but completely relaxed, and as I begin to prepare our dinners, I marvel once again what a pleasant path I can walk when I'm able to let go and have faith in Dog.

Lana Turner

Beautiful, brainy and big hearted, Lana Turner started off as a champion show dog but soon tired of the razzle dazzle of that life, and joined forces with her human companion in a pain treatment practice, bringing solace to those in need. It's been an illustrious and very rewarding career, but at 16 years old Lana is happily retired, sleeping her days away under the desk, or meandering through her rose garden.

It's always a pleasure for me to spend time with Lana because she reminds me just how satisfying a calm and quiet life can be.

Tico Dogs

I was recently in the tiny beach town of Montezuma in Costa Rica for about a week, and I really got to know some of the resident dogs quite well, and what an affable lot they  are. They're not homeless , but they are free to wander about from dawn to dusk.  They find a cool shadowy spot to sleep through the intense heat of  noonday sun, and the rest of time, they just do whatever whatever they feel like.

 From the veranda of my hotel, I'd sip  cafe con leche while I watched two Akitas romp in the surf every morning, and then roll around in the sand - absolute ecstasy - for all of us.

 And every afternoon around 4:00,  a beautiful Rottweiler would head down to the beach where people congregate to catch the best body surfing waves, pick up a dried coconut husk or a piece of driftwood, and she'd amble up to the tourists until she found someone to toss it in the ocean for her, and would joyfully dive after it - over and over again. If they got tired of playing, she'd find someone else, until the sun was nearly set, and then she would head for home, exhausted but happy, and ready for dinner. I saw her do this every single day.

I counted  about 20 dogs there, and never once saw a fight break out, or even an argument between the dogs. It's a great life and they know it. 

The dogs of Costa Rica embrace the motto of this small, vibrant country - pura vida -  the calm appreciation of the beauty everyday life has to offer.   It's a lifestyle I want to  aspire to -  wish me luck please!

Pepper & Kiley

This was our first weekend together and it just flew by, but looked how sad we are to have to say goodbye so quickly!