dog fight!

Last night, I did some really stupid things on my dog walk, and got into a tussle with YET ANOTHER neighbor.

I was at the Cape this weekend, and everyone blew outta there by 3:00 Monday afternoon. The place was deserted. Around 6:30, which is really late for us, I decided to take the dogs for a walk down our dirt road with just regular buckle leashes -- no choke collars (my first mistake). I always use choke collars there because I have better control and there are tons of dogs. But I figured everyone was gone and there'd be no encounters with other dogs (or cats).

There is one year-round home on the road, and they got a new dog about 6 months ago. It's sort of like a Beagle, but single-color, sort of a golden color. Cute dog, howls like a Beagle. I sometimes let Hector walk off-leash on this road, it is totally deserted except for my house and this other one at these times when the summer crowd hasn't arrived yet to fill the rental cottages. I always, always hook up Hector when walking past that house. I don't want him on their lawn, and I don't want to disturb their dog. So, I hooked the leash on Hector and we walked by. Their dog started going ballistic inside the house. A few minutes later, I looked behind me and the lady was walking with the Beagle-type dog a little bit behind us on a flexi-lead, going in the same direction as us (which happens to be further away from home).

Feeling social, I turned around and started to walk towards them (second mistake). My dogs went nuts, and I figured I'd just let Hector off-leash, and that was perfectly fine, he is such a peach, he never causes any trouble. (third mistake)

Hobie went berserk, probably jealous that Hector was loose and he wasn't. I held his leash really tight and close to me (fourth mistake -- tension on the leash) and we walked up to the lady and her dog, who was already cavorting and socializing with Hector, and they were perfectly fine. By this time we were in the lady's yard. I forgot to mention I don't know these people, except the husband did give my dogs water one time a couple years ago. So, Hobie started pulling REALLY hard, and without the choke he is so powerful I could barely control him. I held on, but I allowed him to "greet" the dog in the dog's own yard (fifth mistake).

The woman was scared TO DEATH of my two big dogs. I kept saying, "They're fine, they're really friendly, just really strong" (as I was being dragged onto her property by Hobie). She started asking me questions rapid-fire, and I could tell she was scared witless: "Are they fixed? Because he isn't." she said. "There's a leash law, you know. You're supposed to have him on a leash." ("Him", being Hector who was doing NOTHING but standing there being the big
doofus that he is). I said, "I took the leash off because if I hadn't they would've pulled me down on the ground, they outweigh me and they were too excited."

"Will they gang up and attack him?!!" she cried in total fear.

I'm like, "No way! They're really friendly! They love other dogs!"

Well, just about that time, Hobie's leash and the lady's stupid flexi-lead got tangled right at the collars. Hobie, who was doing his play-mount-dominance thing that he does with every new dog he meets had his head pulled right down next to the Beagles. Hobie flipped out and CHOMPED down on the Beagle's neck from the back and wouldn't let go. I VERY CALMLY said "He's never done that before. What the hell are you doing?" (that last part to Hobie, not the lady).

But the woman was freaking out. She started screaming and kicking Hobie as hard as she could repeatedly. I CALMLY told her, "Their leashes are tangled. Will you hold on a minute, let's fix the leashes." By distracting her in this way, it stopped her from flipping out and Hobie let go of the dog's neck, thank doG.

I dragged Hobie back out onto the dirt road. Hector then ran up and gave a resoluate "WOOF!" to the Beagle for good measure, and the lady promptly kicked Hector as hard as she could. I decided, because I was on her property I will say nothing, but she is damn lucky she didn't get bitten acting like that. THAT is how people get bitten by dogs. She was completely hysterical, and her question: "Will they gang up on him?" her voice already shaking, and her mind already made up, and her energy, well she MADE IT HAPPEN. I was so disgusted with her, and myself. If only I had turned around before her house, as I sometimes do. Or kept going away from her house instead of attempting to socialize. And of course, being so lazy as to not use the choke collars. That was really stupid.

Then, the husband comes out of the house, apparently drunk and goes, "WHAT THE F*** IS GOING ON OUT HERE?!" "A LOOSE DOG! THERE'S A LEASH LAW YOU KNOW." (Little do they realize that the LEASHED dog was the one who got aggressive -- since there's this very common problem called Leash Aggression in the dog world, which many people don't realize is a very real issue with many dog owners). I kindly gave Husband Of Freaked Out Lady the same explanation about the choice of being dragged down on the ground, then I promptly put Hector's leash on him, asked if their dog was all right (four times!!! before the woman finally looked him over and confirmed that he WAS all right), I apologized, and started walking home.

The lady asked me where I was "staying". I said, "I'm not 'staying' anywhere. I live here. I'm here all the time." (By this time I'm incredulous that these people acted like they'd never seen me before, this is my regular walking route, I go by their house twice a day when I'm in town! The husband has even given my dogs water before!) She asked me my name and the exact house I live in, which is just up at the end of the same road. I told her, and figured for SURE the
police would show up at my house just in time for dinner.

As I walked away, I heard the husband SCREAMING at her, and then they had a huge argument that I could hear clear down the street as I was walking. No police ever came to visit me last night.

I know the things I did wrong, as I pointed out above. I think I will start running with the dogs instead of walks -- it will keep them more occupied so they won't have the choice to stop
and "socialize" -- if we're running, we don't stop. I have backpacks in the car, do you think I ever take them out and use them? Heck, no! I will start using them immediately.

At one point right after I got home, I was so discouraged I was thinking that the ONLY time I get in trouble with my dogs is when I walk them. Cesar Millan says to walk and master the walk. I'm so close, but just so far away. And then I started thinking, if the ONLY time we get in trouble is when we walk, then why keep doing it? Does that make sense, am I explaining this right? -- hard to do in email. Why not just stop taking my dogs for walks, since that's the only time we ever have problems. You know what I mean?

spencer, massachusetts

In the month-plus since my birthday, life has been unbelievably crazy. Crazier than I can ever remember. I live in the tiny towns of Spencer and Eastham, Massachusetts. The happenings in these two remote villages have been staggering this last month.

I posted last about the nor'easter that ruined the stairs at Nauset Light Beach. I visited Eastham that week and took photos, which I haven't had time to post here. I went back a couple weeks later, to find, to my delight, stairs with several landings at various intervals. Not only are they easier to maneuver (particularly going UP) but will be infinitely better to navigate with two hounds, if I ever get up the courage to do so.

Tomorrow, I venture forth to Eastham again. On my way there, I will take on a new challenge. I'm going to visit my friend Sue, in Bourne, with both dogs accompanying me. She also lives across the road from a dog-friendly beach. This will be interesting! I will report back after it's all said and done.

On to my primary residence in Spencer. Let's see. First, there was the contaminated water. That one made national news headlines. Spencer, Massachusetts was the #2 story on The Today Show. Wow! Spencer's town water supply became tainted with unsafe levels of lye. Lye is used in the water treatment under normal circumstances, but something malfunctioned. The result being that 100 people were burned by taking showers or washing their hands or faces, and some drank it. Thankfully, I live in such a remote part of town that we have private well water. But our office is located right on Main Street. The number of ambulances that day, you would've thought we were in the big city! Interestingly enough, nobody ever contacted our place of business to tell us about the water. We heard about it through the grapevine. But that's another story, for another day. I wrote a letter to the town a few days after the water contamination, but never sent it.

Shortly thereafter, we had a (possible) murder-suicide in Spencer, and the wife who was allegedly murdered has not yet been found. They're declaring her "missing" still, and we sure hope she is alive. We made the news again.

The third thing that happened, and we made the local papers on this one, was that the house across the street from mine got struck by lightning and burned beyond repair. Its occupant, a dear, dear friend of ours, lost just about everything he owned.

It was one of the most horrific things I've ever witnessed in my whole life. The storm came out of nowhere. I was downstairs at my house, doing laundry of all things. Thank goodness our friend was not home when this happened, so no one was in that building when it went up. I thought it was a tornado, it came up that fast, and the wind was howling, and then BLAM! a wicked strike of lightning! I yelled (to the dogs) "WHOA! That HIT something!" I ran outside in the middle of the storm because I was sure it had hit my house. I smelled burning plastic (which I would later find out was the cable TV wire from the pole to my house). I walked around outside and inside my house, crawling under the deck in the back, trying to see if and where it hit. All the other neighbors were doing the same. Because the strike hit the back of Mike's house, we didn't see it. We all went back inside, and about 10 minutes later, I see Steve -- he's running. Steve doesn't run, so I knew something was wrong. I hollered out my door, "Steve! What's the matter?"

"Mike's house is on fire!"

I asked him if he called 9-1-1, he had. And then, for good measure, I called myself.

The fire was really nothing at that point. We could hear the trucks coming, a crowd had gathered, and we were saying to each other, "It's gonna be OK. It's nothing." Then, within ONE second, BLAM! something caught and the thing erupted into an inferno. The kitchen went up in one second flat. The huge picture windows in the room that got hit by lightning blew right out of the building.

We were so scared, and there was nothing we could do but stand there and watch, my hands "Home Alone" style. Turns out the trucks (7 of them) came from three towns other than Spencer. There was talk afterwards that some got mis-directed and went up the wrong dirt road, there are so many on the lake.

Even though I didn't live in that house, we spent a lot of time there, and the fact that "but for the grace of God" Mike wasn't home that afternoon, and it didn't hit my house, well, it is just too scary for words. I cried on and off for two days. It was just awful. It was one of the most frightening things I've ever witnessed in my life.

A chapter ended, and lots of memories, both good and bad, for all of us.

I'm hoping Spencer stays out of the news for a while.

birthday

Today is my 47th birthday. It's the first time, ever, that this day doesn't feel like my birthday, and I keep forgetting that it is my birthday. I have always put great stock in birthdays, particularly my own. As the baby of the family, and the only girl, and born on my father's birthday and on his aunt Annie's birthday, it was such an important day in my life. I was fortunate to always have my birthday during school vacation week here in Massachusetts, and got quite accustomed to having that day "off" from obligations such as school, work, etc. In my adult years, I started taking that day off as my own personal holiday from work, and eventually took the entire week off as a present to myself. This year is different. I used up my April vacation in the unpleasant city of Las Vegas, and have to work today, a Saturday no less! All because I want to es-Cape to Cape Cod tomorrow in a mini-celebration-vacation. It's the best I can do.

This past week, a horrendous nor'easter pummeled Cape Cod with gigantic waves which destroyed the 45-step stairway from Nauset Light Beach Road to Nauset Light Beach. The only entryway to the beach, Mother Nature has ironcally solved a problem for me -- my fear of taking the dogs onto the beach and encountering angry people who don't quite get the concept that the dogs outweigh me and are really quite goofy and friendly. Ah, well, I don't have to worry about that for the time being. There is no indication in the news whether the steps will be rebuilt. For now, the only way to Nauset Light Beach is to jump off a cliff, or walk all the way to the Coast Guard Station and walk up. Problem is, you have to go all the way back to the Coast Guard Station after that. I will most likely do this tomorrow or Monday, and will take some photos and video. Unless the beach is too littered with debris, or the tide is too high. Stay tuned!!

Here are some photos of the steps. I got both of these from the Cape Cod Times web site, having apparently never myself taken any photos of the steps (how strange).

This photo was taken in 2005 during/after a late-October storm that brought the ocean swirling to the bottom of the steps. I remember The Weather Channel being parked in the parking lot, and my friend Craig calling me to tell me. I turned on the TV, back in Spencer, to discover one of the Weather Channel dudes standing on "my" steps, reporting about the storm! Here's the photo:

The next photo is one taken this week, which I found on the Cape Cod Times web site. It's an aerial view of the steps in the midst of being destroyed. The waves, gigantic. I have never seen them so high. Not a great picture, due to the size. It looks better on the Cape Cod Times web site. Here it is, anyhow:



Finally, here is another photo from the Cape Cod Times, showing some folks having a "Disappointing Day At the Beach" this past Thursday. As you can see, the boardwalk is cordoned-off by a barrier so as to prevent people from going down the now non-existent steps. The waves, as recently as Thursday, still pummeling all the way up to the dune. Other parts of the Cape, most notably Chatham's "North Beach" have been changed forever. Parts once reachable by car as recently as a week ago, are now an island reachable only by boat. Here are the disappointed folk:

dog whisperer: truly an inspiration

Yesterday, I finally broke down and started deleting some of the Season 2 episodes of Dog Whisperer from my very-full DVR. The DVR has been acting up, unable to function at times, because of so many Dog Whisperer episodes being saved onto it. During this process, a very interesting thing happened. I became inspired all-over-again by Cesar's true gift. He trains people, oh yes, he does.

I had recorded episodes all the way back to March, 2006 on the DVR. I started watching the segments that pertained to me, saving the ones that really pertained to me, and deleting whole episodes if nothing in any of the two-or-three segments related to my situation.

To reiterate: I have been immobilized by fear and unable to walk my dogs on longer walks because they have pulled me down on the ground in pursuit of cats or other dogs. I have been injured physically, and even got into some scuffles with humans during these incidents. The dogs even killed a cat (by accident) exactly a year ago this week.

A wonderful thing happened yesterday. I started taking snippets of information away from the various episodes I watched, committed them to memory, and took the dogs for a walk around the block.

In the "Bearz" episode, I heard Cesar say that you should go down the stairs slowly. I captured that in my brain for future use.

On to "Greta and Hoss" -- claiming the door. Well, I've pretty much mastered that, but there was information that I needed to hear again, and it helped.

The "Eppie" episode (eppie-sode!) reminded me of the fact that I have to keep my eyes forward, and that the dog has to pay attention to me, not the other way around. That I can feel what the dog is doing without looking at him.

My very favorite episode has always been "Major Jones." I cry every time I watch it, so inspired and in awe of what Major Jones and his owner accomplish in such a short time. I got the most out of that one yesterday, because Cesar said that if there's a trouble spot, you need to work in that area over and over and over again until it becomes second nature. In the case of Major Jones, it was going in and out of the gate calmly. In my case, it's passing the next-door neighbor's house, where the cat was killed last year, and two more houses on our regular walking route where cats congregate. I realized I can just keep walking, back and forth, back and forth, in the cat areas until the dogs become so acclimated to gentle, calm walking that they will no longer become excited and get into "chase" mode.

I took the dogs for a walk yesterday, after watching all of these segments of Dog Whisperer. I looked straight ahead, and didn't "scope out" looking for cats. I stayed completely calm, shoulders down, head forward and up. I didn't allow Hector to "scope out" for cats, either.

Hobie always walks with a slack leash, but Hector likes to pull in front and scope out the situation, in his hound-dog way. I know I have to use the backpack with him. Yesterday, I kept thinking a thought over and over in my mind, silently: "Slack leash, Hector." Within minutes, Hector was walking "in the zone", head low, as relaxed as Hobie, with a slack leash. I had spent a lot of time with Hobie during the year before we adopted Hector, and Hobie has always been very obedient on-leash, except when he's competing for a cat or strange dog's attention.

After our walk, we went for a very long drive. When we returned, the next-door neighbor's cats were in the yard. Same exact situation as last year. Hobie saw the cats as we drove by, and he perked up. Not wanting a repeat (and anyway he wouldn't be off-leash) but not wanting excitement, I gave Hobie a bite and a stern "Hey!" as we drove by. (I imitate Cesar's "Hey!" that he uses on the show.) I made sure my energy was right before getting out of the car. I calmly put the leash on Hobie. I got out of the car first. I left Hector in the car, and put Hobie in the yard, safely away from the kitties. Then, I let Hector out of the car, on-leash. A far cry from last year's incident, when I thought they'd follow me (the non-pack-leader!) into the house, loose, and instead they ran next-door and chomped down on the cat critically injuring it so it had to be operated on and eventually euthanized, at great financial and emotional cost to me.

This morning, I woke up and the old dread came up again when I thought of taking the dogs for a walk. But I said, no, I'm going to beat this thing. I started thinking about the things I heard Cesar say on the show. Things like, "If you only go one step, that is an accomplishment." For so long, I had been setting my sights on a one-hour walk (like we used to take). But thanks to Cesar, I realized I don't have to do that. If I walk only five minutes, that is an accomplishment. And, it's up to me to decide. I don't have to feel bad for the dogs because they're not getting an hour-long walk. That is attaching human emotions to the dogs. If I decide the walk ends after 12 minutes, then the walk ends. We live in the moment, and maybe we'll do a second walk later.

As it turns out, we took a 45-minute walk this morning. We even encountered a running cat, and I was able to turn the dogs around and go in the other direction, then walk past the cat's house a few minutes later with both dogs "in the zone", heads low, leashes slack.

And me, completely in charge.

Dog Whisperer meets Ghost Whisperer

Check your local listings Friday, March 30th, when Dog Whisperer, Cesar Millan makes a guest appearance on CBS's "Ghost Whisperer" starring Jennifer Love Hewitt. The show airs at 8:00 p.m. Eastern.

Since "Dog Whisperer" usually airs the same night, at the same time, 8:00 p.m. Eastern time, on the National Geographic Channel, the National Geographic people have graciously decided to run Dog Whisperer at 9:00 p.m. that night.

For information on March 30th episode of "Ghost Whisperer", follow this link. There's also a video preview.

http://www.cbs.com/primetime/ghost_whisperer/

Hail Cesar!!!!

frank mueller day, march 9, 2007

Wish I'd been able to login here before midnight last night and do this post, but alas, I was at my brother Frank's retirement party and so this post will have to contain today's date instead.







The reason I'm concerned? Yesterday, March 9, 2007 was "Frank Mueller Day" in the tiny town of Northborough, Massachusetts.

Above, here, is my brother, Frank, our cousin LouAnn, and me (I'm the baby). Frank, 14 years old when I was born, is not only my brother, but also my godfather. LouAnn, my godmother. This photo was taken in 1960, the year that Mook (see previous post) gave birth to me.

Frank retired from the Northborough Police Department in December, 2006. The party honoring his career was last night, and it was one of the best events I've ever attended. Very well done. A lot of laughter, and a brief shedding of tears.



Frank was given a number of awards, by the town, surrounding towns, fire departments, and even the State of Massachusetts.

My brother is the true definition of "hero." Having self-enlisted in the US Army in the mid-1960s, Frank served in Vietnam on a one-year tour of duty as an MP. Tales of his experience there were never-before-heard until last night. I remember vividly his homecoming from Vietnam, myself having been pulled out of my second-grade classroom to drive to Logan Airport with my folks. My teacher, Mrs. Sullivan, tearful herself, practically jumping up and down at the news of his return home. After that, Frank worked 7 years as a New Jersey State trooper -- a job he qualified for after being accepted into the police academy literally two days after he stepped off the airplane from Vietnam in 1968. He began his career as a trooper with only a few weeks of training, a reportedly unprecedented career move. To his 30 years of service with Northborough, a job he also secured in only a couple of days, and which he accepted in favor of the Southborough Police Department's offer, which came on the same day, only minutes after he'd already accepted the job with Northborough.

Early in his career in "Jersey", as a very young man, Frank was one of hundreds of officers who participated in taking back control of Rahway State Prison from the inmates who had rioted and took over the facility.

Frank was responsible for a number of interesting well-known arrests in the Worcester County (Massachusetts) area, including the infamous "Honeymoon Bandit" -- a man who would "crash" weddings throughout Worcester county and make off with baskets of gift envelopes. Frank was the officer who nabbed the guy, making front-page news headlines for the arrest.

Frank also saved a man from a burning car, twice. The man was so drunk, he crawled back inside the car after Frank dragged him out! Frank was given a medal of honor for saving the man's life.

The stories of Frank's heroism and dedication to "the department" are numerous and inspirational. I am honored to be related to this man, and thrilled to have been part of the celebration of his career.

In his personal life, Frank won several body-building titles in the 1980s and 1990s, rivaling the likes of "Arnold" and others. Frank's four children, (my nieces and nephew) pictured here, are beautiful and a source of pride in and of themselves.

On to bigger and better things -- what will it be next? One can only imagine, and dream.

mook turns 87

When she was a little girl, my mother's siblings called her "Mook". This is because she couldn't pronounce the word "milk," and it came out "mook." The name stuck. All the cousins call her Aunty Mook. Her sisters still call her Mook.

Mook turned 87 today.

Recently, we were at a family gathering at a local restaurant. I helped Mook into the ladies room. It was one of these fully-automated restrooms, the kind with motion-detectors on everything -- sinks, toilet, paper towel holder.

Poor Mook was completely lost. "How do I flush the toilet?" "You don't," I replied, "it flushes itself when you stand up."

Turning on the sink was a feat in itself. Even computer geek me couldn't get the motion detector to turn the water on.

Once Mook's hands were wet, it was another challenge to get the paper towels to come out of the electronic holder. Again, no matter how many hand-passes across its little red sensor, I couldn't hit it just right for those towels to come streaming out. I finally did it.

When we visited the restroom a second time that night, we went through the entire process all over again. It doesn't help that Mook is nearly 100% blind to begin with.

Here are just a few of the things that have been invented or changed since Mook's birth in 1920:

• The tumble dryer


• Refrigerator/freezers for home use


• Hairdryers


• Television


• Color Television


• Video-tape recorder


• Digital video recorder


• The Walkman


• Portable cassette player/recorder


• Cathode-ray tube


• Computers


• MS-DOS


• Electric typewriters


• Liquid Paper (aka "White Out")


• Cordless telephone


• Mobile telephones (1947!!)


• Push-button telephone


• The modem


• The microchip


• Remote control devices


• Commercial (passenger) airplanes


• Jet engine


• Liquid-fueled rockets


• The helicopter


• Radar


• Doppler Radar


• Hi-fi/stereo sound equipment


• The jukebox


• The dynamic loudspeaker


• The car radio


• Frequency modulation (FM radio)


• The transistor


• Stereo recordings


• The drive-in movie theater


• 3-D movies


• Polariod photography


• The photocopier


• Adhesive tape


• The Band-Aid


• Bubble gum


• Pez candy


• Barbie dolls


• Cabbage Patch kids


• The ball-point pen


• The aqualung scuba-diving tank


• The lie-detector


• Insulin


• Penicillin


• Tetracycline


• Oral contraceptives


• Traffic signals


• Frozen food


• Cake mix


• McDonald's


• Spiral-bound notebooks


• Nylon


• Teflon


• Neoprene


• Velcro


• Contact lenses


• Aerosol spray cans


• Canned beer


• Credit cards


• ATM machines


• Post-It notes


• The Segway human transporter

a fresh start

Like I mentioned in an earlier post, February for me is goal-setting month. I don't do New Year's Resolutions, I make changes in February, after all the New Year's people have dropped out of the gym and so-forth.

I can already feel spring in the air. Mom's birthday is in about 10 days, and that means the start of spring. I can hardly wait!

Last night, I learned that all the tip-toeing around I do in the morning so as not to disturb Gil while he's sleeping isn't necessary, according to him. I try to keep the dogs quiet, and do as little as possible each day while he sleeps in a bit. Well, he said he doesn't really care about the noise, it doesn't disturb him that much.

So, today, I took the dogs for a morning jog. We didn't even make a whole lot of noise, since I carry the kennel leads in my pocket, so I just went outside to put the leads on the dogs. We just went up around the corner and back, and I actually had them run. Hobie and I are both pretty much out-of-shape after sitting around all these weeks, and Hobie's nails are long, so I didn't want to overdo it.

Overnight, we had indigestion, and so I decided this morning that we are no longer going to eat late at night. Our lifestyle really sucks. One thing we can change is what time of the evening we eat. We will feel better, and will probably lose weight, too.

After my run this morning, I washed the dishes, and then went to the gym for the first time. Met Myriam there, and we laughed, learning how to use the treadmills together, and then swam about 8 or 10 laps in the pool. It was actually pretty good. I am not a gym-person, but I may actually keep doing this from time to time. It wasn't crowded, and it was actually much more enjoyable than I would've thought. The bathroom was disgusting, but I simply won't use it. I only live 5 minutes away anyway.

The reward at the end was getting a Dunkin' Donuts iced coffee. Mmmmmm! My favorite. DD is right next door to the gym. There's nothing like an iced coffee on a sunny, spring morning. And no donuts or anything to offset the wonderful work I did exercising!

hector meets riley!

Took the dogs for a very short walk this morning. Man, they are climbing the walls with cabin fever. This weather is ridiculous. Hey, whatdya want? It's February in New England! It was ok enough to walk for a few minutes.

I tried to get them to walk about the back yard -- no go. They both stood at the top of the stairs on the deck and just looked at me as if to say, "Are you nuts, lady? We want a walk!"

My trusty kennel leads in my jacket pockets, I went back into the house, and brought the dogs out the front door for a stroll up the lane. Hector, loose, brought "Toy" with him (pictured above) and bounded down the steps. At the end of the driveway, he stopped, "Toy" in mouth, did a classic "point" stance, and ran up the road like a car in a drag race, dropped Toy partway down the lane, and started sniffing like the hound he is.

Hobie, wearing a blue kennel lead, and me, walking calmly behind the hound. The kennel lead had looped over Hobie's ear, so that his ear was being flattened under the collar part of the lead. Wearing big overstuffed gloves, it's not easy to put a leash on a dog. I fixed his ear, and moved on.

They sniffed and peed on everything in sight, and we went up to the cottage for a look around. The plow guy had piled the snow so high, the three of us couldn't safely approach the door. I will have to shovel there later.

Across from the cottage is where a new dog, Riley, lives. Hobie met Riley on a walk a few weeks ago, when Hector was recuperating from his foot injury. They smelled Riley today before they saw him.

I had picked up Hector's toy, which he had once again abandoned in favor of sniffing. I spotted Riley up by his house. Hobie spotted him visually next, and then Hector spied Riley.

In true Cesar Millan style, I used no words. I made Hobie follow me. Hector bolted, at first, towards Riley. Riley stood like a soldier, but ears forward and wagging his tail, very much the calm and assertive, yet friendly, dog. Riley made no sounds. Very interesting. He is a silent dog. Hector slowed, and they greeted. Then they play-bowed and started romping together in the snow. I called Hector's name a couple of times, but not showing any upset or panic. I kept walking, Toy in hand, Hobie in the other, towards home.

Once we got closer to our house, Hector said his goodbyes to Riley, and followed us home. We walked a few more minutes, abandoning Toy at various intervals, me picking Toy up and enticing Hector with it: "Got your toy!! I've got Toy! Where's Toy?"

Hobie's feet started to bother him from the cold, and that was the signal to head indoors and have breakfast.

an anniversary, of sorts

This day marks 19 years that I've been clean and sober. February 8, 1988 is my A.A. "birthday" or "anniversary."

It's very strange mentioning this, since it seems like another lifetime and a different person who went through all that. The idea of having a drink, getting drunk, taking drugs, is just completely foreign to me now. I even stay away from prescription and over-the-counter medication as much as possible. An extra cup of coffee can ruin my day! Booze? I wouldn't even consider drinking today.

I have most certainly moved on. I haven't attended an AA meeting in about 6 years. The last time I went to one was around my anniversary when Hobie was just over a year old. I had been having a really hard time at work, and decided I needed something. So, on a Sunday morning, I went to the open meeting at the big Mass. Electric building out on Route 9. It's a wonderful meeting -- they always have free Dunkin' Donuts donuts and coffee.

But this date of February 8th is a bittersweet one.

On my very first AA anniversary, February 8, 1989, my dear friend Bob died, apparently due to the use and abuse of drugs and alcohol. The circumstances of his death are not clear, but everyone in our circle of friends believed it was suicide. My ex-husband shared an apartment with Bob at the time, and found Bob dead in his bedroom that morning -- the morning of my first AA anniversary. Being newly clean and sober, his death devastated me. Why had I been given a second chance? Why me? Why had Bob died? Why him?

Here's Bob, on the left (he's the guy who looks like Steve Perry, the lead-singer of Journey). I'm the bride. Ex-husband is the guy w/the glasses.

Whenever we'd tell Bob that he looked like Steve Perry, he'd always reply, "I don't look like that f***in' guy!!" lol. I still think of Bob today whenever I hear a song by Journey or AC/DC. He loved music, and so did I. We had such great times together, playing records (yes, vinyl record albums) late into the night.

One of my most vivid memories of Bob is the time I had taken a vacation day from work. I was not married to the guy with the glasses yet. In fact, I was living across the hall from him and Bob, with my boyfriend at the time. Halfway through the day, I heard music coming from their apartment, and I realized Bob was home, too. I called him and he said he had taken a day off, too, and was trying to figure out the lyrics to a song on the brand-new Fleetwood Mac album "Tusk". The song was "Sara". He asked me to come over and help him figure it out. We played that song 1,000 times that day, with pen and paper, figuring out each word that Stevie Nicks baaaaah-ed in her barnyard-animal-noises way.

Sara, you're the poet in my heart,

Never change,

Never stop,

And now it's gone,

It doesn't matter what for,

But when you build your house,

Then call me. Home.

To this day, whenever I hear that song, I know that Bob is sending me a special hello from wherever he is. And yes, I sing along, and smile, and know every single word.

In the movie, "It's A Wonderful Life", Clarence the Angel says something about each person touching our lives in so many ways. Bob breezed in and out of my life quickly. He was there in 1979, and he was gone in 1989. Ten very brief years of friendship. We were like a family, me, Bob and my then-husband. Bob lived with us on-and-off for most of our brief marriage. He was like a teenage son to us, and was always a troubled soul. He would come to our doorstep in the middle of the night, having tried to live on his own and failed... and we would always take him in. Months later, some kind of fight or argument would occur (just like a family), and away he'd go. Only to return a few months after that.

In 1983, Bob returned to our house and brought with him a little friend. A black Labrador Retriever puppy whom he had named "Timba." Bob had brought the little pup out into the woods for a walk, and was trying to think of a name for her. He looked up at the trees, thought of trees falling and someone saying "timberrrrrr!!" and came up with the name Timba (with an "a" on the end, not with a New England accent!).

Husband-at-the-time wouldn't let the dog in the house. He had been brought up in a "dogs live outside" family. I loved that dog, and would sneak her in the house when husb wasn't home. I would take Timba for long, long walks every morning. All of the neighborhood dogs would follow us. We'd walk all the way from our house in Princeton to the Holden town line and back again. I looked like the Pied Piper with all those dogs! We'd drop them off at their homes on the return walk. We lived way out in the woods, and leash laws were a concept of the future in 1983 in central Mass.

By the time that particular chapter ended, Bob owed me a lot of money in back rent and household expenses. I was the breadwinner of the household, putting spouse through college and working full-time and going to school myself. I made a deal with Bob. Give Timba to me, and you won't owe me a cent. He accepted the deal. I divorced the other guy and got "custody" of Timba. Bob and my ex got an apartment together. Everything had come full-circle. When I met the duo, they were sharing an apartment, and after 10 years of "Three's Company", there they were, bachelor roommies again. It would be in that apartment that my ex would find Bob, dead in his bed, having taken too many sleeping pills. The ex would live in that apartment for several more years, with Bob's cat (ex hated cats!), until he married again and moved away. Every so often, I or someone else in our circle of friends bumps into my ex. The last time I saw him was in a grocery store parking lot, literally two weeks after Timba died. How odd. There are no coincidences.

One of the best things that ever happened to me, was due to this person, Bob, being in my life for ten years. Timba became my best and most loyal friend. At her death in 2001, I had known her longer than most of the humans in my life. Timba was the inspiration for my avocation as an writer and author -- the stories I've written about her are the basis of the creation of my web site www.k2k9.com Here's Timba, in 1983, in the kitchen of my house in Princeton.

Bob, I will always be grateful to you for bringing Timba into my life. I know that the two of you are together right now, walking in the woods together, singing songs from the 80s, and remembering me.

I downloaded several different versions of "Sara" onto my iPod. I'll play them today, along with some AC/DC, Journey and REO Speedwagon. And I'll think of Bob, and smile and cry at the same time. Here's a picture of Bob and me, in 1982, in that other lifetime.

bowling with ben on his 1st birthday

getting back out there

The snowstorm that was supposed to hit overnight missed us, and the sun is shining and it's actually sort of warm outside, for a February morning.

Hector's foot is healed. He is putting all of his weight on it.

I decided to take both dogs for a walk, to start reaching towards our goal.

I did what Cesar recommends: visualize the walk from start to finish.

1) What kind of leash/collars am I using? Regular buckle collars and matching leashes. No choke collar, no Illusion collar, no skinny leash.

2) How long of a walk? 20 minutes, maximum.

3) The route: To the end of our dirt road, across the main road, up the next dirt road on the left, and back again. Skip the third dirt road on the right -- could be cats and ice. I'm not ready for that.

Everything went exactly as planned.

Hector was way out in front. Since this was his first walk in over 6 weeks, I didn't make a fuss about that. He needed to burn off that energy. So, instead, I looked at it as a job for him to burn off the energy. It would be neat to give him a pulling job like a sled, bike or cart. He would be really good at that.

To prevent myself from having a muscle-pain flare-up, I constantly checked the leashes, making sure there was no tension on the leash. So, even though Hector was out in front, the leash was slack and my shoulders were down and relaxed, not tense.

On our return trip, Hobie wanted to go up the third dirt road on the right. I leash corrected, Cesar-style, a couple of times, while using my old standby command "Not today" which Hobie knows means: we're not going that way today!! (of course!) and we went home.

I went into the fenced-in back yard, me first, and dropped the leashes after entering through the gate. Both dogs stood and waited for me to take the leashes off. Then, they play-bowed and romped around for a minute or two.

We went inside the house, and I washed the dishes while they laid down and rested. (Exercise, followed by discipline.) This is our daily routine, regardless of whether we walk or just go out into the yard. The exercise is always followed by my washing the dishes while they rest.

After they've rested, we do "yogurt time". This is so that I, as pack leader, can eat first without having to eat a whole meal. I eat several spoonfuls of plain yogurt, and then I give them each a spoonful in their doggie bowls. This is followed by dog food which I scoop out with my hands, hold in my hands prayer-like, and make each of them sit before putting the food from my hands into their bowls.

After that, I let them finish the cat's leftover food from last night. They each get half of whatever she did not eat. It is a job, actually, because they clean her bowl and get all the dried on cat food off!


Then, they each get a "chewy chew", which is a beef or chicken-flavored rawhide stick. They, of course, have to sit for the cat food as well as the chewy chews.

This is affection.

Exercise, discipline, affection!! Ta daaaaa!

february, spring is just around the corner

To me, February means springtime is not too far away. March is better.

My Mom's birthday is in March, and her birthday signals for me the official end of winter.

My thoughts now turn to opening our house on Cape Cod. I think about it constantly now. The days are getting longer, but not yet warm enough to turn the water back on or stay there overnight (no heat except for a fireplace in the living room).

2006 was special because we were able to wait to shut down the house due to the warm weather. Unfortunately, I jumped the gun and shut down after my last visit on November 29th. But we could've kept going there through the holidays and into the first week of January. If only we had known. And so, the place sits, empty and cold, waiting for the warmth of our hearts and sunshine.

I am afraid, still, to walk the dogs together. At the Cape, I have no choice because we can't fence in our yard. So, I have to walk them, on leash. It will be a challenge, since I've now gone months without walking them together, due to Hector's foot injury and my not feeling well on most days.

We live within one minute's walking distance of one of the most beautiful beaches on Cape Cod. Dogs are allowed, yet there is a strictly-enforced leash law. The irony: you can bring your dog to the beach, but you can't let him run loose. And if you have more than one dog, then you really have to have control over them. Everyone and their brother brings their dogs to "our" beach. Try controlling 170 pounds of male, excited dog when you're only 5 feet tall and they've got at least 20 pounds on ya. It just ain't gonna happen. So, I end up leaving Hector at home, and taking Hobie to the beach. Hector is somewhat afraid of water, and doesn't require as much activity as Hobie does. Still, it makes me sad that I can't handle them confidently enough to enjoy the beach together. (Notice that the dogs are loose in the photo above, snapped during "off-season" when nobody was around.)

February is my goal-setting month. I don't do New Year's resolutions. I do February resolutions! Goal #1 is to start walking the dogs on leash, on long walks, again. Hector's foot is still bothering him a little, so it's not time yet. But by the end of March, we have to get back to that, or I will lack the confidence I need when we return to the beach.

Here are photos of Hobie, taken during a visit to our beach, after Thanksgiving.

hector goes to the office!

Hector had his follow-up appointment with the new vet today (because of a foot injury sustained when he jumped the stone wall). Rather than drive back and forth from home to work, then home, then all the way back to the vet which is practically next door to work, I decided to take Hector to the office with me this morning. He spent three hours at work with me, and it was delightful.

First, on the way there, we had to take an alternate route due to construction on the regular road. My dogs know the various routes, so this threw him for a loop. He started doing his little "talking" thing when I turned up the different road.

Lo and behold, a half a mile down the road, there is a flock of wild turkeys -- about a dozen of them to be exact. Now, if I had had both dogs in the car, Hobie would have started getting all anxious and antsy about the birds. He starts making noises and sometimes will try to lunge, although that has gotten tons better since I learned to stay silent and not fixate on the distraction myself! (Thank you Cesar Millan!) Hector truly lived in the moment. Yes, he was curious, but he just looked at the birds ( I had to drive by them really slowly because they may have crossed the road), and then he lingered looking at them after we drove past, and then turned his head forward and enjoyed the rest of the ride.

At the office, everyone was falling all over themselves patting him and paying attention to him. He went straight into my office! He hadn't been there in months, but he knew the drill! He attended our daily sales administration meeting, and it was really funny because we all hate that meeting and after a few minutes he wanted to leave but the door was closed. Mike said, "I know how you feel Hector" to which I replied, "He's picking up on all of our energy. He's saying get me outta here!"

We left a little early for the vet appt, and when we drove in there was a dog in the parking lot. Not wanting the confrontation (I am a chicken!) I went for a little drive. But when I brought him back, there were two dogs in the waiting room. He was a perfect gentleman. Again, everyone was fawning over him and saying how well-behaved and handsome he was.

Another patient had a 17 year old dog. I said to him, "It's nice having an old dog around" -- at that precise moment, the vet came out into the waiting room, and he goes, "My wife says that to me all the time!" We were all cracking up!

my family

On Christmas Eve, I visited my Mom's house, and while I was plugging in her mini Christmas trees, she opened a drawer and there were 100 photos that I'd never seen before. I asked if I could borrow them and scan them (Nick later gave me 100 more to add to the pile!). I've scanned them all, and here are some choice cuts. Enjoy!

happy birthday, hobie!

I couldn't close up shop for the night without posting happy birthday wishes to my favorite K9 himself, The Hobester!

While I don't really know the specific day of Hobie's birth (like I know Hector's was September 4, 2001 -- exactly one week before "9/11")... I do know that Hobie is my Millennium Dog. He was born in January, 2000, but came into my life 4 months later, in May of 2000. The photo here is the first one I ever snapped of Hobie, and we've been partners ever since. Here is a scan of the receipt from Petco -- our first excursion by car, which we did only a few moments after our love-at-first-sight meeting! The toys in the photo are the ones I bought at Petco that day!



Since I usually travel during the week of Christmas/New Year's annually, I started choosing a day shortly after my return to the States as Hobie's "official" birthday. So, when he was a year old, I returned home from my annual trip on January 2nd or 3rd, and decided a few days later that his birthday should always be celebrated on January 6th.

Here we are 7 years later. It seems hard to believe that my little Hobie is 7 years old. 49 in dog years, which means he is now older than me.

Years spent with our pets are precious -- and filled some of life's greatest pleasures, challenges and lessons.

I love Hobie more than words can describe. He is the coolest dog on the planet.

Happy Birthday, Hobes!!

Love,
K2 ("Mommy")

zonkaraz

Hundreds of graying hippies descended upon WPI's Alden Hall last night, New Year's Eve, 2006, to witness the reunion concert of Worcester's own Zonkaraz, a band of locally-famous rock musicians whose jam sessions have been compared to the Dead, and who really brought the house down, closing 2006 in style.

New Year's Eve 2006 marked the 25th anniversary of Worcester's "First Night" celebrations.

Gil was mentioned in the Telegram & Gazette as having recorded Zonkaraz over the years, and had been in contact with Joanne (Barnard) List by email recently, in anticipation of her return from sunny Florida to perform to the standing-room-only crowd. I think Gil was really happy he went. Gil got to talk to Joanne, Ricky Porter, Paul Vuona, John Webster and Walter Crockett. I got introduced to everybody (I had met Walter and Joanne before, but not the others, although I'd always gone to see their various post-Zonkaraz bands in Worcester).

The only difference between today and 1970 were CELL PHONES. Everyone had them and were snapping photos left & right. Of COURSE I started it! Being one of the younger ones in the crowd (lol). Cell phone photos aren't great, and I took this home and enhanced it, but too much white light on the faces. In any case, here it is, to capture a moment in time:




Before the show, we stopped at the Boynton for a bite to eat, and the place was packed. We looked over at the bar, and there were two empty seats, and who is sitting right there but our next door neighbors Tom and Alana!! We shoulda car-pooled! Then, we arrive at the show, and who is standing right next to us but Liz (the woman who designed k2k9.com!) and her hubby Donald. Turns out Lizzie had designed the First Night 25th-Anniversary buttons that gained all of us entry into the various venues around town.

The concert itself was magic. The band was tight, and the guys played like they'd still been jamming together all these years. The entire crowd was on its feet, dancing. I looked around from time to time, and remember seeing these very people at the local bars, doing the same thing, only then they had brown hair, or in some cases, HAIR. They all looked familiar. It was the same group of people, reunited in an attempt to recapture the good ol' days.

And recapture them, we did.

Joanne blew everyone away. Having never seen Joanne perform in person, despite the fact that I have heard her recordings thousands of times, I was mesmerized and delighted. Joanne has soul. A consummate performer. Not to mention she can really belt out a tune. Despite now being a grandmother, Joanne has still "got it". She's ageless, and her voice is as strong and confident as ever. Visiting with her backstage, Joanne remarked as she ran off to prepare for Zonkaraz's second set, "This is young woman's work!" I was surprised to hear her say that, she had made it look so easy.

walkin' the dog

Today, I walked Hobie around the block. Hector can't go on long walks because of his paw injury. Gil tells me Hector was very unhappy being left behind -- he "howled like a wolf", baying and lowing at the absence of his pack.

Hobie and I had the lucky streak of being able to practice greeting other dogs. This is something I can rarely do successfully when I have both Hobie and Hector on leash. Mainly because they will pull me down on the ground, but also they scare other dog owners. They are just so excited to greet other dogs -- not aggressive, just excited.

I counted the number of dogs we encountered this morning. Seven. First was Billy, who is a regular playmate of Hobie and Hector. No big deal there. Next, we met up with Shannon's brother-in-law and his three dogs. This was great. I blocked Hobie by standing between him and the other dogs. I was calm and gentle, didn't use loud vocal commands, just quiet and as few words as possible. The man asked if his dogs could say hello. "Sure, definitely!" I replied. His three dogs were unruly, barking, growling carrying on (except for the little female she was very sweet -- I think Hobie has a crush on her!). Hobie was an exemplary student.

Onward and upward. We walked by Oscar's house -- where, predictably, Oscar proceeded to bark, bark, bark, bark, bark until we passed in both directions. After Oscar's house, at the end of the dirt road is Alana's sister's house -- she has a really friendly Border Collie. We didn't get to greet him, as he had turned his back and was apparently avoiding us. But that's ok, that, too is an exercise in dog behavior.

Back past Shannon's sister's house, and right before we get there, I see a dog I've never seen before. Hobie doesn't see it. It's loose. No owner in sight. I again positioned myself between Hobie and the other dog, who had by that time gone out-of-sight. I shortened Hobie's leash so he was right beside me, but kept it slack so as not to have any tension on the leash. New-dog, whose name I found out a few minutes later is Riley, was up on the porch of the house with his owner. When he spotted us, and Hobie spotted him (her?) Hobie perked up and I was not making eye contact with Riley or his owner, but I heard the woman say, "AHCK!" then, "No, Riley!" Well, of course Riley gave her the paw and came out to the road to greet us. Riley and Hobie were perfect gentlemen -- great body-language, ears up, tails up, happy faces, sniff, sniff, sniff. Riley's owner was unhappy that Riley had approached us. Riley wanted to follow us! I said, "C'mon Hobie, we're going home," at which point Riley fell in line and was going to join our pack! I saw what was happening and immediately made Hobie stop, resulting in Riley stopping. Riley's owner was able to grab Riley's collar and bring him back home. And Hobie and I went back to ours, where Hector was waiting, happy to see us. I took Hector outside in the back yard for a quick stroll, just me and Hector, and the new ball he got for Christmas.

photos

I stumbled across some really old photos over the holiday weekend.

The first set are old photos from my infancy and childhood, and they have to be scanned, so they won't be up here for a little while.

The set I'm going to post here are treasures I found this evening -- photos of Hobie when he was a young pup, me when I was thinner and had good hair.


Gil with Hobie when Hobie was just about 5 months old.





And here are some pics of our first grandson, Ben, on his first Christmas!





Ben & his dad, Dave

Ben meets Hobie & Hector, through the window!

virtual strangers

I find myself a part of a cultural phenomenon. It doesn't surprise me that I'm so "mainstream" -- I've always been into pop-culture. Check my 36-year addiction to the ABC soap All My Children, my obsession with the band Bon Jovi, and a slathering of other mainstream, pop icons and fads that I've gotten sucked into over this lifetime. (As I'm writing this, Gil yells upstairs to me to turn on Larry King Live because CNN is re-running Larry's recent interview with none other than the gorgeous, talented, mega-talented, oh, did I say gorgeous, Jon Bon Jovi!).

But the phenomenon I am writing about today is that of virtual relationships. I belong to several "groups" on the internet. A couple of dog-behavior groups, and a couple of fibromyalgia groups. The people on these groups, including me, go out of their way to help the other members of the group. Now, we group members, except for a select few, have never met by telephone, we've certainly never met in person.

We are virtual strangers.

All of this communicating is being done on the keyboard. Everybody out-doing each other, or trying to, in writing, advice-giving, spelling and humor. I cannot count the number of times I've presented to one of these groups with a problem, and someone from a different state... shit sometimes from foreign countries... will reach out with answers, suggestions, compassion and humor. Most times this advice is bandied about on the group itself, for "public" consumption, as long as you're a member of the group. But other times -- and this is the part that is most incredible -- other times people will email me privately. Virtual strangers, reaching out to little ol' me, spending their time thinking about my problem and writing to me about it.

Just this weekend, I received lengthy emails from at least four group members offering me advice, educating me, and assisting me with my various "issues". One guy helped me with some photos I was having trouble posting to k2k9.com. And two other ladies gave me some invaluable knowledge about more personal matters.

These groups are the support groups that I attended 20 years ago in person, only better. From the comfort and privacy of your own home, you are invited to attend the support group meeting. You can do it 24/7, and communicate with like-minded individuals from all over the world. The concept is mind-blowing, and it's taken off like a rocket. Two of the groups I belong to have over 2,000 members apiece.

And, just as with interpersonal relationships of any kind, whether it be family, friends, co-workers, the same dynamics come into play. People get offended and get into arguments. The moderator has to step in and put an end to it. Sometimes, people get so offended, they quit the group (I left one dog group for 2 months this fall, and have just recently returned. I used to do that frequently with the for-real groups back in the 80s! The more things change...) Sometimes, everybody works it out and things end up being rather humorous. Some of the groups have extremely strict rules, and some are all about fun, fun, fun.

Oh, and did you know that I'm Time Magazine's Person of the Year?

K2