Who trains who?

When Jan and I meet on the casita back porch to watch Carma and Luci play, we're like two mamas of toddlers.  She's reading Cesar Milan's book on training puppies and I'm reading How Dogs Think. 

Will came over Monday to go to an appointment with me and he gave me pointers on getting Luci to stop play-biting and licking.  Alfred gave Jan a suggestion for discouraging Carma's  digging huge holes in her yard: deposit Carma's poop in the digging spot and she won't go near it.  

Nobody is more joyous to see me than Luci--and her way of showing affection is to jump on me or into my arms,  vocalizing her happiness/relief-that-I'm back with an adorable little whine.  I enjoy these over-the-top greetings, so don't plan to train her to stop--though I may have to tamp down her enthusiasm for greeting her friends.  

Cesar might suggest stopping that behavior as well as her flights to the dining table top to gaze at birds in the yard--but I'm not going there.  If you want a friend who shows affection in more subtle ways and who doesn't sit on your table top, I would suggest sticking with human friends.

My favorite poem of all time about dogs is by my friend and poet and dog-lover Bonnie Lyons, in her book, Bedrock. 

Dog Training

Sometimes I think

the only lessons I ever learned

were from my dogs.

So here is the accumulated wisdom

of Sancho, Max, and Zorba,

three sage Airedales.

First,  yelp when you're in pain

but let it go when it's gone.

Second, travel the earth 

with a quivering nose.

Third, answer the needs of your body

with shameless relish

but then go right on

to the real purpose of the day: play.

And, finally, whenever possible

leap right

into the arms of someone

who loves you.

Nathan's 14th

Nathan will be 14 on March 9th.  Since he'll be in Colorado for Spring Break, we celebrated his birthday early today and I made him his favorite cake, Texas Sheet Cake.  Bonnie was practicing for next week's rodeo in Bandera and Will made us a yummy salmon dinner.

Nathan and Elena had to do a little minor surgery to remove a string wrapped around one of the chickens' feet. 

It's a mile from their house down a bumpy driveway to Scenic Loop.

Nathan drove me to the bottom of the driveway--a very good driver indeed! 

Thursday's Travels With Luci

    I’ve taken several trips today.  Here are three postcards from my travels: 

    1. Home Depot to get shop towels and AC filters. I get way more attention and better customer service now that a dog is attached to a red leash.  A handsome white-haired man  said, “That’s the cutest dog I’ve ever seen.  Is she a certain breed?” A heavy-set man beside me in line almost stepped on her and apologized profusely. “I love dogs,” he said.  “I always cry for my dogs.”  The check-out woman said, “Where do you get her?  I want one just like that.”  

    2.  Jo Ann’s—also pet-friendly.  I bought squeezy balls for Carma and Luci and three women gathered around to pet her.  Each one told me stories about her dog(s). One lives on a ranch and has lots of dogs, sheep, goats, horses.  Another has a Golden Retriever named Bella.  

    3. Dollar Tree.  A very large woman, checker in Aisle 2,  was talking about Jesus to the checker in Aisle 1.  I didn’t get the whole story but it ended like this: “I was so damned mad I had to go home and pray to Jesus.  Jesus know I always do the right thing, but this one was hard!”  

She then bent down to pet Luci, her hands still wet in hand sanitizer that made Luci sneeze. She  told me she has a new dog that poops everywhere.  "Even if I spank him and leave him outside for five days with just food and water, he just comes in and poops again on the floor. I named him after my grand baby that died last year.  I wonder if that means my grand baby was going to be hard headed?” 

 “I had me a dog once just like this one, exactly like this one, a mix of chihuahua and cocker spaniel,  and I’m so damned mad cause my daughter give him away.  He was smart like a human, I mean smart!  He did bite the kids, but other than that, he was perfect.”

2/23/21

Today is going to be a Tuesday, I think.  

Yes, the 23rd of February, Charlotte's birthday.  Happy Birthday, Charlotte!  

I pulled a muscle and got up couple of hours ago to take an Advil.  Luci thought it was morning.  She came and jumped on me, doggie language for need-to-go. So I opened the door, and out she went, sniffing the ground for news of possums, skunks, and kitty-cats.   When she came back in, she mistakenly assumed it was playtime.  It was not. 

I curled up in bed and closed my eyes.  She walked around the bed to pick her spot.  She chose--uncannily!--the exact spot on my back where I needed a little bundle of heat and curled up her little deer-looking self against my pulled muscle.  Best physical therapy ever!

She runs like the wind and could, I believe, run nonstop for an hour--which is why I had a fence built.  If a runner passes, she's keen to join in on the fun. This little doxie-shelty-corgi is a speed machine.

If I outlive this amazing little dog, I'll never get another. Without hyperbole, I can say she is the best doggie ever!  If I close my eyes, she goes right to sleep.  Her favorite spot for people and animal gazing is on top of the dining table--a cuteness I don't discourage.  But she never gets on the table if I'm eating.  

Actually, I don't eat at the table very often--usually I have my meals on the sofa.  She curls up beside me and makes intense eye contact ("I'd love to have what you're having instead of that dry stuff in my bowl if you don't mind.") But she doesn't beg or touch my food, not ever.  If I do decide to give her a dime-size bite of bread, she takes it very gently in her tiny little mouth and eats it. 

When I get her leash and tell her I'm going to go get a coke, she runs to my bed and thinks she's hiding.  Unless I force the issue, she prefers never to go to McDonalds, though if it's night or later in the day, she'll happily go with me in the car.  When I come back from my coke run, she greets me with far more joy than the occasion deserves.  She's been waiting and looking out the window for me the whole time!

Even Elena, who loves all dogs and cats and horses and chickens, said, "Don't tell anybody but Luci is my favorite dog ever." 

This little dog is uniquely wonderful.  I wouldn't change a thing about her--except maybe her penchant for chewing shoes and socks.  Day sent me Cesar's book on puppy training and we'll get to that chapter at some point. 

I turned on Morning Joe just long enough to hear Joe's plug for "Call My Agent" so we're back in bed now and I'm hooked watching episode 1.  Unless you speak French, you'll have to read subtitles, but it's totally worth it and after a few minutes, you don't even notice that you're reading. 

Compassion and Empathy

Watching President Biden's address to the nation as we have almost reached 501,000 deaths from COVID 19, I feel that he's so right for the White House. 

After four years of lies and accusations of "hoaxes" and other conspiracy theories and a clear goading of his people to invade the capitol on January 6th, we now have a President with empathy and compassion, finally a man who is addressing the  thousands who have lost mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters,  friends and children.  

Peggy, my neighbor, texted me a link and made it possible for me to get on the list for vaccines at the beginning of January.  Many of my friends have had to try for hours to get on the list.  Now Peggy's young friend Lesha is helping people she doesn't know get on the list--including friends of mine and friends of my friends.  With so much self-interest in the world, it's wonderful to see a woman make it easier for people to get vaccinated! 

Jan has shared with me many slices of homemade bread and cornbread, bowls of soup, birthday cake.  Neighbors across the street brought in my pots of succulents.  Neighbors one street over turned off my water when a pipe burst.  Tony, my plumber, booked for a week, made time to help Kate and me when we had plumbing issues.  

Compassion and empathy have always been here in families and neighborhoods, but it seems we're all making a more conscious effort to reach out to help each other as we pull out of the muck of the last four years.  As I watched the memorial today, I felt that we're breathing deeply again and getting a chance to remember who we are and want to be, people who care about each other. 

2/21/21

I just got back from Helotes after a happy Saturday and Sunday with Elena and the dogs.

When the lockdown started, I was afraid.  What if the lockdown lasted a month or two?  What if the distance changed the way it had always been? 

I'm sort of prepared for the inevitable changes of teenaged years, but I wasn't prepared to lose our weekly get togethers in her 9th year and to miss Thanksgiving, birthday parties and overnight visits.

As it happened, this was exactly like times together before COVID.  "Let's have popcorn while we watch a movie," she said, "Like we always do"--as if nothing had happened in the intervening year.

She bathed Charley in the bathtub and prepared to bathe Luci, but Luci was having none of it. We took the dogs to play at the school playground and laughed when Luci ran at lightning speed all over the playground.  We met Bonnie at El Chapparal for dinner, my first sit down meal in a restaurant in months--just as delicious as it always is there, still my favorite Mexican food in the county.

On the way to Helotes she said, "I'm trying not to be sad.  I don't want to say goodbye to you and Luci."

I borrowed a line from NomadLand:  "We don't have to say good-bye; let's just say we'll see each other down the road."  She liked that. 

"I'm very interested in my ancestry," she said.  So we decided to make a book in which she can interview relatives and record family stories.  "I'm very proud to be Mexican," she said, "But I've never been to Mexico." 

At dinner tonight, she told her mom, "Yenna told me the coolest stories about my ancestors on her side."  

I'm trying not to be sad because this weekend is over.  I'm actually over the moon happy to have had it! 

 I'm in heaven--first sleepover in over a year, and the first mask-less visit, thanks to vaccines!

Elena and Charley and Luci and I are all in one bed together watching Queer Eye and eating popcorn after bringing California pizza and corn home for dinner.  

Nomad Land--on Hulu

Tonight was the night I'd planned to have a real face to face meal and visit with Will's family, two weeks past my second vaccine.  I'm disappointed, but in the context of all the tragedies and disasters in Texas this week, all the deaths and dislocations and fires and power outages, a delayed celebration is small potatoes.

It's been a stressful week for Will and all the firefighters and first responders, and that's uppermost in mind today. 

The beauty of yesterday's second snow this week is melting into slush and power is coming back for some people.  It's going to reach high 30s today, but freezes again tonight. I'm watching Nomadland and handing Luci popcorn piece by piece, as that's how she likes to be served.  My bed is covered with leftover kernels and that's just fine.  I'm one of the lucky ones with heat and water, even hot water, thanks to my excellent plumber, Tony.  

Luci just took my gloves out of my pocket book!  She's about to start chewing on them, so here I go to get them back.  

Nomadland is extraordinary--starring Frances McDormand.  It's remarkable that this movie was made by the actual  people who live as nomads traveling across the country in their vans. Except for Fern (played by McDormand) and Dave, all the characters in this movie are exactly who they are.  I'll watch this one again. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WOW5cmmPn6U

Demon Dog

If Luci had her say--or maybe a way younger human than me--she'd play in the snow for hours.  But, alas, she has tons of pent up energy and is acting out. 

While I was talking to Linda Kot on the phone (for way too long, according to Luci), she turned into a demon dog.   She chewed the handles off my favorite paper scissors and a felt tip marker, all this while I was saying good things about her to Linda!  She chewed up two empty boxes while she was at it, and strewed the cardboard all over the floor I had just vacuumed.  

The girl just wants a party and a playmate.  Like all of us humans.  

Snows Past and Present

My first memory of snow in Texas, 1972.  The house you see on the left is the stone cabin we rented for 11 years, the only house on "our" 65 acres of Hill Country.  Those white lines in the background were my motorcycle riding trails.  The bent tree to the right was--counter to everything I've read about dogs not having retractable claws--Tony's climbing tree.  Imagine a hundred pound German Shepherd climbing to the crook in the tree and then jumping down into powdery snow!

The tiny girl in a red hat is Daisy, of course, and the girl holding her is a former version of me, 23.  

In 1985, we had the historic 13 inches of San Antonio snow.  We improvised sleds with cardboard and sheets of plastic--wearing our regular Texas jeans and canvas shoes.  After it passed, I bought my kids what passes for snow boots in Texas--never to be worn.

Thirteen years ago, I'm playing in the snow in Virginia with Day and Tom, Jackson and Marcus,  falling down, getting back up, laughing hysterically when my grandsons threw snowballs. 

Nineteen winters ago,  Carlene and I drove to Cape Cod in February to visit our dear friends, Linda and Steve.  Linda taught me how to lie in the snow and move my arms in a circular motion to create the impression of a "snow angel."  

For five years I had a Minnesota man-friend named Bob, and we flew back and forth, San Antonio to Minneapolis, once a month. It was then that I learned that you can do quite well in sub-zero weather if you have the right clothes for it.

Bob bought me snow gear and I spent the days, while he was working, driving around the snowy city and into St. Paul.  Stores didn't close for snow, and I walked with ease through the slushy wet streets and had lunches with writer friends I made there. 

My favorite snow memory with Bob was driving to International Falls and visiting his sister who lived on a lake at the Canadian border.  I dressed up in my snow suit and walked with them to the dock to watch them ride their snowmobile.

After watching a few rounds, I said to Bob, "Let me give it a go."  He gave me all the cautions and instructions for handling the snow machine, and at first, I followed them.  Then I started whizzing around the frozen lake, around the ice fishing huts and back, over and over. 

Bob's sister and husband were impressed. "I thought you'd never even been on a frozen lake before," they said. 

"Muscle memory," I said.  "Same as a motorcycle, just on ice." 

The snow of 2021 has been less exciting.  Due to power failures and pipes bursting, this week has been unnerving.  We don't have the wherewithal or clothes to sail smoothly through a six inch snow and day after day of freezing temperatures.