A day at the beach

Although, as you are all aware, we generally don't shy away from the challenge of bringing whichever crew of maladjusted, high-maintenance canines we have along on weekend adventures, every once in a while we just need the indulgence of a day with an easy dog.

So while we have her, we decided to go to the beach with just Collette. 

The thought of managing Lamar and Fozzie, challenging under any circumstances, on a beach with their cousin Genghis--whom they despise--was just too much to bear. 

But the couple of times we've had them together, Collette and Genghis--my sister's Akita--have had great chemistry. 

Yesterday was no different.  

My little tiny whippet-like "lab" shelter pup is not the least bit afraid of big, burly, rough-and-tumble Genghis. 

The huge, strong, fuzzy Genghis, who sends the musclebound Fozzie and the mighty Anatolian Lamar into fits of paranoid anxiety, is just a great big boy toy to my scrawny little foster pup. 

With perfect weather and a dog-friendly beach, not too crowded, it was great to let them enjoy some romping in the sand and water. 

If I'm really honest with myself, I'll admit that this was the first trip we've taken in a while on which I was really able to relax. 


With my sister, my niece, Florian the benevolent paterfamilias and his son, and just two dogs who got along and didn't run away, or lunge at other dogs, or make much of a fuss, I could just space out and enjoy the sun and the water.






I think I'd forgotten what that was like!


 
After a few hours, I was not the only one spacing out. Genghis was glad we brought that beach umbrella just for him. 













My sister is bummed that Collette is going back with her adoptive mom. 


I agree that it is wonderful to have an easy dog, and wonderful for Genghis and my little squirt to play so well. 

But I also know that the next foster dog will have something unique and beautiful about him or her, and the one after that too and the one after that, until we meet another one that for whatever reason ends up staying with us. 


Collette has a wonderful and loving home to go to, and our job is to take the ones who are not so easy and give them a chance. As relaxing as it is to take a little break, we know our mission won't be accomplished until we've rescued more. 

Pups on pointe

Florian graduated with his Master's of Fine Arts in dance this week, wearing the traditional dancer's graduation regalia of all-white Miami Vice-style duds and a flowing leafy gown. I'm so proud of him. 









With the university out of the way, and with a certain amount of career-centered anxiety, he thought it would be good to start volunteering at the shelter. 

 

That way he can maybe pick up some new career skills while being around the relaxed four-pawed people who never bother him about hegemonic logocentricity or the semiotics of gendered discursive metanarratives.















He loves it. Twenty years of professional ballet training, teaching, and performance, and he is like a pea in a pod when he leaves his white tights in a drawer and dons his volunteer T-shirt to hose down shelter stalls. 

But no matter how he tries, he still can't seem to get the dance out of his system.  

Get out your tutus, shelter pups! Stretch those metatarsals! Practice your port de bras! You'll be on pointe in no time.

Sleepy Creek Lake

We were unexpectedly reunited with Collette last week, when her adopter had to go out of town and asked us to watch her. Which was not a problem, as it seemed only right that she get to go on at least one camping trip with us.

We took off Saturday morning with me, as usual, in the dark about our destination. I had the chance to wrangle all 3 dogs for a remarkably peaceful walk along a trail in suburban Fairfax while Florian taught a private ballet lesson--during which we saw two deer, two Great Danes, and Fozzie stayed fairly calm on both occasions--and then we were off to Florian's camping land of mystery. 

We had discussed going someplace remote where we could relax a bit even with the three dogs, so I was a bit surprised when we came upon the familiar scenes of Berkeley Springs, West Virginia. 

A sweet little town of herb shops, New Age trinket stores, and of course the renowned hot springs, which you can enjoy through one of the spas of through the public site in the park in the center of town. 

In the 90 degree heat we had to be a bit creative about how to check out the attractions; fortunately, most of the businesses are dog-friendly. The dogs were able to help Florian pick out a tie-dyed T-shirt, and then we cooled off those fevered paws in the cool stream running right through town. I waded in myself, but not too deep as there are huge crayfish in there and they've given me the heebie-jeebies ever since my big brothers threatened to throw them down my back when I was a kid. 

What I always forget about Berkeley Springs is how close it is to the Potomac and some amazing hiking and camping places.  

Just a couple of miles out of town we found an access point to the river and to the C & O canal. The dogs took no time at all to get into the water

  













And Florian was not far behind.

Collette just loves her sticks, and she loves chasing Fozzie around in the water, harassing him, and paddling around.

As far as I know she learned to swim just a few weeks ago--when we took her on another little trail in Virginia--and like most dogs learning to swim she is not what you  would call graceful.

She does the most ridiculous thing where the front half of her body rears up out of the water and her paws paddle up and down furiously, creating an enormous splash, while her face gets an incredibly serious look of concentration. 

 But then, I guess all dogs look kind of ridiculous when they swim.

After cooling off we took a nice stroll along the empty, always beautiful and slightly spooky C & O Canal trail, and then set off to find ourselves some tasty food to share with the dogs before heading off to Sleepy Creek Lake. 









It's the closest place we've found to camp near Berkeley Springs, accessible through a winding drive through the Sleepy Creek Wildlife Management Area...State Department of Natural Resources-speak for a place you need to watch your ass during hunting season.

Fortunately, we encountered only benign presences along the road 

and awakened to a foggy morning on the lake complete with the deafening sounds of bullfrogs, spring peepers, and water birds. Fozzie stayed on his leash until the geese were safe in the center of the lake, and Collette stared out in wonder.

Thanks for the fun trip, everyone! Collette, I hope your mom comes home soon so I don't get too much more attached to you.

Collette goes home

Well after just a few short weeks with us, Collette has gone on to her forever home!

I expected she'd go fast--she's a 6-month-old lab, for God's sake--but what I didn't know was that she'd find such an awesome adopter.

Rose works from home and wants a cuddly companion to be near her all day. She is looking forward to taking Collette for daily runs and photography sessions along the beach, and play sessions with her mom's super friendly dogs. 









She's already bought out the pet store with all sorts of toys and treats and a perfect little purple harness, and signed up for positive training classes so Collette can hit the ground running in her new home. 

How does THAT sound, my tiny friend?

The Washington Humane Society made it easy for Collette to go home with her new mom, which is the right approach for an open intake shelter--although its a bit of a shock that just a few days after I first heard from Rose, Collette is already gone!


We hardly had a chance to get attached to her, though we did have time to love her up, 
 















 


get her wet, 












 

take her hiking, 













give her some really high-quality food, 

and expose her to some good music.
















Have fun Collette! You'll have to write and tell us about all your amazing adventures.

Compost chowhound

A weekend with Uncle Johnny

This weekend we had the intense pleasure of Uncle Johnny coming down from New York for a visit. Uncle Johnny comes down pretty frequently, and helps me with stuff around the house, relaxes, babysits and plays with my niece Ursula, hooks me up with cool books about astronomy and shipwrecks, and puts up with the dogs. 

 






Outwardly, Johnny grumbles about the dogs but secretly I think he loves them. 

They sure love him. Ever since I was a kid and Johnny was babysitting me, the family dog has always loved Johnny all through his grumbling and grousing.

 









In fact, there's never been a dog that didn't love Johnny, to my knowledge. Johnny is one of those figures loved by kids and dogs everywhere. 



 







Johnny reminded me this weekend that he's 84 years old. 

Eighty four and he still comes down every few weekends by Greyhound bus from New York to hang out with his wacky Takoma Park family. 













Johnny's studying the art of watercolor through classes he took at the senior center where he lives in New York, and books he got from the library. 

 
I think he's doing an incredible job!

This weekend, he got to meet Collette. 




And Collette got to meet him, and Ursula, and Genghis, and my sister. 

She and my sister did a bit more than just meet. 















After a wild play session with Genghis, Collette was ready for some snuggles and some making out. 

 

















It could have also been that after a while, Genghis started making her a little nervous.

Fortunately, Uncle Johnny was there to provide support. 


Uncle Johnny, unheralded friend of the furred people, benign ruler of all your familiars. All paws in the air! We salute you!