Some days are like this!
How’s your day going?
Some days are like this!
How’s your day going?
On any other Monday morning, I’d be killing it on the Cybex arc burning in excess of 600 calories in 50 minutes. But, Zone Fitness was closed for Memorial Day, so I took to the streets in my slippers and p.j.’s, blanket wrapped round my shoulders for modesty’s sake.
To be sure, this was an unplanned session of cardio. It lasted only 30 minutes, but it was more brutal and intense than anything I’ve ever done in the gym. It began just after I’d poured my second cup of coffee.
“Where’s Winnie?” was the rallying cry! When you live with three dachshunds always under foot, you develop a sixth sense that warns you when one of them is in trouble (of their own making)! We called for her and searched the yard, but it quickly became clear that she was gone!
My husband and I ran to the driveway to begin our rescue mission while our daughter, home from school for the weekend, changed from p.j.’s to street clothing. Tom headed left. I went right and flagged down a car just as he rounded our corner. I didn’t know him, but he knew enough about me that I didn’t have to tell him the breed of my dogs!
“Oh, I’ve seen your doxies,” or did he say “heard your doxies”? It’s all a blur. “I have a dog; I understand,” he continued.
He offered to drive, slowly, around the loop that is our street and search for my girl. My belief in the kindness of strangers is so often validated.
I continued down the street, alternately yelling “Winnie” and explaining to any passers-by that my dog was loose, and very tiny. About 20 frantic minutes after the realization that she was gone, I felt the first tear slip down my cheek. I began knocking on doors. People can be very sweet when presented with a strangely dressed, very sad neighbor at their door. No one had seen her, but everyone would watch out for her. A few even joined me in the street.
It would be about another 10 minutes before my husband found our pup and sent our daughter out in the car to look for me. I learned he gave her simple instructions.
“Don’t come back without your mother!”
Back in our family room where our day had quietly begun, my husband described what he’d learned about Winnie’s great escape and brief adventure. I must describe the geography of our home for you to fully appreciate her great feat.
Our house is below street level, so our garden is terraced. Stone walls divide each level. Our little one had jumped four 18 inch walls (we knew she could do that) and a 2 foot metal fence (we didn’t know she could do that) and then tunneled under the bottom of the fence to arrive in our neighbor’s back yard. She didn’t stop there, though. She tunneled further to pop up in the next neighbors yard and had just left and crossed the street when the man who offered to help me spotted her from his car and called out to my husband.
My husband called out to Winnie, who obviously knew she’d been a bad girl. She turned and ran away from him, but thankfully back the way she’d come. She arrived in our yard to my husband’s great pleasure (or displeasure)?!
Dachshunds were bred to burrow and they are known to be trouble-makers. Our Winnie is an overachiever in both areas! Thankfully, this is a story with a happy ending, but I also think it’s a cautionary tale to anyone thinking about acquiring a dog:
There are dogs and then there are dachshunds…beware!
P.S. On a positive note, I did get in some cardio…and my husband will be getting his workout after he returns from Home Depot with cement and lumber to build a bigger, better fence!
It’s been an amazing Spring day. This morning I woke to the sound and the sight of frozen pellets of rain bouncing about in my garden! Hailstorms are not a common occurrence in California. It’s very exciting for us. It brings everyone to the windows to watch. And after it’s over, we must inspect what’s left.
Winnie is ever curious, but she returned to the warmth of her cozy bed shortly after her first encounter with ice. I imagine her paws were very cold.
A couple of hours later, the sun appeared and our little four-legged trouble maker resumed her exploration of the garden.
What was the weather like in your neighborhood?
No, that’s not a typo in the title! It’s Friday and thank god for it …TGIF! But, alas, today I’m also feeling grateful for Target. How did we ever accomplish anything major before this retailer came to our rescue? Thank God for Target! They’ve got shower curtains and small desks, frozen lasagna and iced coffee in large jugs, shower curtains and toaster ovens, laundry detergent and first-aid kits and lots of storage options: bins, boxes and baskets of all sizes.
On Monday night, I hit the sack at 10 p.m. I was up at 1:30 a.m. on Tuesday at my pup Winnie’s insistence and again at 4:30 to provide puppy relief. I loafed until 6 a.m. and then headed south down Highway 101 to help my daughter move into her first off-campus apartment. By 11 a.m., we’d made our first trip to Target. You may wonder: how many Target trips does it take to set-up a new apartment for three students? I’ve got the answer; read on!
Day one was devoted to kitchen set-up; we’ve got our priorities straight! Things went smoothly until we discovered the garbage bags did not fit into the very old trash compactor and we’d need a stepping stool to provide access to upper shelves to maximize storage. We started a list and prepared for trip #2.
We began the trip with a detour to the in-store Starbucks. Iced tea in hand, we headed our separate ways to divide and conquer. I found myself in the pop-up “Dorm/Apartment Kitchen Essentials Department” where I encountered three young men debating the attributes of two different silverware trays. I stopped to eavesdrop…just because I find the young amusing. In the end, they decided they didn’t really need a sorter.
“Let’s just let it rattle around in the drawer,” the tall one said to the other two. They nodded and were off… presumably to buy a frozen pizza or something really “essential”.
I wondered silently: would I want my daughter to end up with a guy who felt he needed a flatware organizer or a guy who knew he could live without one?
I fell into bed exhausted that night and woke at 1:30 and again at 4 a.m. Ah, the puppy has ME trained! The “girls” all left for work early that morning after letting me into the apartment for some solo unpacking and organizing. I sat on the small couch drinking cold coffee that I had thrown into the cart on trip #1. The day ended on a sweet note, as well, when I placed the pillow I’d secretly purchased on the faux fur chair in the corner of my daughter’s room.
Day 3 began with a fourth trip to Target. Why hadn’t I bought an under-bed storage bin yet?! There were exactly two left in the store when I reached up to pull one from the shelf at the same moment as another woman. I looked at her with a slightly desperate expression that she seemed to understand.
“Oh, I only want one of them,” she said. “First year or second,” she asked.
“Third,” I replied proud of my daughter’s seniority. I pointed to the next aisle where the last two shoe organizers resided.
“Get one while you can, ” I suggested. (Well, I had seniority, too!)
It was the final day of my visit and we made a fifth trip to Target. This trip required a visit to the Customer Service Counter where we had to return the curtains that didn’t fit and the chair that clashed with the sofa. All went smoothly.
But, there was something bothering me. I’d been very smart and ordered a few key pieces ahead of time and yet they still hadn’t been delivered. Just as I sat down, with another glass of cold brew, I had the text from my husband: Lots of boxes delivered today. They’re for here?!
In the end, it took six trips to move my “child” into her first apartment and I’m glad I was there for all of them! Parenting is a long journey and it’s a privilege to feel welcome in my daughter’s world as she approaches the big 21.
P.S. Hoping the puppy feels as tired as I do this evening!
My new girl is a tail-wagging cuddler…perfect for me as my friend Karyn of Wagsmore Dachshunds promised. She’s also got a bit of the imp in her and a touch of the German stubborn to make her entertaining.
Dachshunds were bred 300 years ago in Germany to hunt badgers. Their name literally means “badger hound” (dachs means badger; hund means dog). Their short legs allow them to enter badger dens, and their fierce nature gives them the courage to take on the 15-pound mammals.
As a tribute to my dog’s origin I selected a German name.
“Here Winnie, Winnie…” rolls trippingly from the tongue. And, “Bad girl, Winifred Angela Wagsmore!” sounds very dramatic. “Angela” is in recognition of a strong leader who has spent her life refusing to be intimidated by egotistical leaders of the opposite sex. (When our country elects a president I can be proud of, I’ll consider naming my next dog after her.)
Winnie is my sixth dog, but it’s been eight long years since I’ve had a puppy. Three days into this journey, I’m struck by both what I remembered and what I forgot about the puppy days.
– Puppies teeth are sharp; I have a “love bite” on my neck.
– They leave noseprints on eye glasses, computers and phones. The world is a bit blurry.
– Puppies are exhausting. Life is a bit blurry.
– They are like toddlers; they put everything in their mouths!
– One should “puppy proof” the house BEFORE they arrive.
– Puppies need stuff! I love Amazon; they even offer Amazon Basic Puppy Pads at a very good price.
– When a puppy enters your home and heart, life becomes one big photo-op.
Things I remembered (not much):
– I’d spend a lot of time following a small creature around waiting for her to poo or pee.
– I’d be so excited when said creature pooed or peed in the appropriate place. After Winie’s first outdoor elimination, I ran inside to tell my husband. “Yes,” he said. “I know and I think the whole neighborhood knows, too.”
– The best lives are oftentimes a bit smelly, messy and exhausting. Friends and family have commented on both the dark circles under my eyes and my ebullient glow. Puppies are so wonderful 🙂
P.S. I started writing this days ago, but have been too tired to finish it until today. It’s day six with my new baby!
“My little dog—a heartbeat at my feet.”― Edith Wharton
I’m going to miss the little heartbeat at my feet. It’s been three days since Bart died in my arms, but I’m still looking for him. He followed me everywhere, and there’s no substitute for that. (Heaven forbid my husband should start following me around!) We have three dogs, but Bart was mine. He needed me.
Oh my goodness, how Bart loved it when he’d hear me grab the keys to my shed from the kitchen drawer. He’d run straight to the back door and wait to descend the stairs down to the pink shed. He had a well-worn bed (he liked to chew on the corners of it) under my desk and he’d patiently wait until the writing part of my day was over. Then I’d put him in my lap while I read or enjoyed a cup of tea in my cozy chair. Bart is featured in two of my of my most popular posts: See The Nose?! and My Dog’s Favorite Books.
I’m so glad to have had the absolute adoration of my cuddly Bart for nine years!