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This post is late. I am a terrible blogger these days. 1. It is too sunny to stare at a computer. 2. My computer got a nasty little worm and was at the computer doctor for a week. 3. I have been in and out of town and away from the internet for a lot of reasons.
Tomorrow Violet, the Seal and I are going to the San Juan islands for a long weekend. We went to the same spot about a year ago after having the Seal in our lives for only a few weeks. At that point I know the Seal must have been worried that she went from doggy-jail to cushy-new-lezbo-home to stuck-in-the-woods-homeless-with-a-couple-of-strange-homos all in a few weeks.
But after a year of being treated like a dog-queen (being the dog queen that she is) I assume the Seal will be more at ease this time, understanding that this is just a short jaunt to get out of dodge and play outdoors without having to wipe your paws before coming indoors for a few days.
Anyway, here are a few of my favorites of our new queen over the last year (that haven’t already been posted):
Last night I saw Mary Oliver read and speak. Listening to her made me remember a different kind of breathing and that I should never leave the house without a pen. Ever. And if someone asked me today, if I could invite anyone in the world, living or not, to a dinner party, who would it be? Mary O. Hands down.
One of my all time favorites:
Little Dog’s Rhapsody in the Night (Percy Three)
by Mary Oliver
He puts his cheek against mine
and makes small, expressive sounds.
And when I’m awake, or awake enough
he turns upside down, his four paws
in the air
and his eyes dark and fervent.
Tell me you love me, he says.
Tell me again.
Could there be a sweeter arrangement?
Over and over
he gets to ask it.
I get to tell.
Having recently been laid off, having more time on my hands, and with spring sprung and creeping into summer the Seal and I have been outside, out and about, for most of our day, more than not.
This morning the Seal and I went for a long walk, like we do. The lilacs are fully bloomed and just beginning to drop. The Seal and I both love to smell them in huge, dramatic inhales and stop frequently to do so. The tulips are all spent, give or take a few late bloomers, the blue bells are standing and tired, the daffodils are weeks gone and the rhododendron are all tightly budded, ready to explode at any given moment . The cherry blossoms make it look like it snowed pink last night, but only in very particular patches.
On our walk this morning the Seal had a blossom stick to the top of her nose and after shaking her head a few times with no relief she just walked on, crossing her eyes every once in a while to focus on it. I thought it looked cute and springy and let the decoration stay until it finally fell several blocks later.
There is this older woman, 75 maybe, that lives in the neighborhood. Margaret is her name. She is always out walking with her dog. Always. It is almost impossible to stray more than a few blocks from home without passing by her. I use to catch her at my bus stop, sitting outside the bagel shop, sipping coffee and giving every other bite of her bagel to Thomas, her rolly polly little wiener dog.
Thomas has several outfits, depending on the weather, of course. He mostly sports either his blue sweater for cold, dry days or a little yellow raincoat for the rainy days. If my jacket style is similar to what Thomas is wearing I know I have properly prepared. She and I have always said hello in passing. Some days are chattier than other, like during the election, she would go on and on about how its “plenty time to let this Obama kid get going and get things going right for a change!” She is clearly quite intelligent, well spoken, progressive and very sweet and it always cracks a smile onto my face when I see her and her little fat dog walking around together.
I haven’t seen Margaret or Thomas around in months and I have thought about this a lot. I have been curious and worried with obvious suspicions but haven’t figured out how to go about finding anything out.
So, the Seal and i were out this morning, for a nice long stroll when all of a sudden, a block and a half a head of us i saw what appeared to be an older person walking what appeared to be Thomas in his little blue sweater.They were crossing the street and turning a corner and I had seconds before they would be out of site so I yelled, “That isn’t Thomas by any chance, is it?” as I began to jog towards them. A voice, not Margaret’s, said back, “This little weeny here? Ya, thats him. Who’s askin?”
My stomach sank a bit as I was jogging over, to find out about Margaret. As I got closer I could see this old man, clearly not Margaret. He had slicked back white hair, snow-white side burns, the most typical gray old-man-pants with the most typical brown leather old man shoes, a green button down collared shirt with a big blue postal jacket, a tough-guy posture, leaned up against a fence, holding the leash of that fat little rolly polly wiener dog, Thomas, that the Seal and I were oh so happy to see.
“Hi there,” I said. “My name is Jesse. Sorry to chase you down a street but I just haven’t seen Thomas or Margaret in some time.” And then I just went for it, “Is Margaret ok?”
And as soon as this old man opened his mouth and said, “Damn near died I tell you. Goddamn doctors are only human but if I hadn’t raised em’ some hell over there, well then, who knows. Nearly killed her liver with some goddamn medicine that she didn’t even need, I tell you what, I’ve had it with those damn doctors. Think they’re god but dumb as bricks, some of ‘em” I realized that this old man was an old woman. This old man was Margaret’s partner.
I smiled big and said, “But she is ok. Man, that is great to hear.”
“Of course she’s ok. They all think she’s just this sweet old lady. Well, that’s cause she is. But I ain’t.” and she laughed big, holding her belly.
We talked for a while, well she did the talking, like a grumpy old man, complaining on and on about everything from how the damned winter killed all the rosemary around here: “In all my life of living here, when in the hell have I ever had to pay for rosemary at the store? Now I’m buying the stuff from California. Damn snow took ‘em all out.” To complaining about the roundabouts at the end of all of our streets: “If your car is too big for ya, well, shame on you for it. But if it ain’t, cause you need it, like my 4×4 pickup truck, well, now, you try to get that son of a bitch around that damn circle. Try it. Gonna run up the side every time, so what good is that? Don’t slow me down none either, just pisses me off.”
I stood there listening, agreeing with everything regardless, and marveled at what an amazingly beautiful and masculine person Margaret’s partner was (I never got her name but she mentioned that they had lived in their house for more than 30 years together). And how relieved I was that Margaret was ok. And how happy I was that she had someone looking after her, taking care of her. How lucky I am to be right where I am, right now.
We said goodbye and as the Seal and I walked off I heard, “Come on, you little weeny. Let’s go now.” A few seconds later I turned around and saw Margaret’s partner bent over, picking one of the last tulips standing and I realized that bringing your girl a flower never gets old.
This is what it looks like to take a random day off in the week on one of those rare seattle spring days when it isn’t raining, snowing, windy or totally freezing:
Remember when I said this blog would not turn into post after post of the Seal? I’m trying folks… I am.
For the last month or so the Seal has been coming to work with me a few days a week. My desk is set up in a way where the right half works just like a little dog house cave – and the Seal loves it. The office is a nice big open studio for her to wander around and visit other folks. She spends the bulk of her time just sitting there staring at me from under the desk, waiting for me to do something. If I go to pick up a fax, the Seal comes with me. If I go to get water the Seal goes to get water. If I am in a meeting the Seal is under the table of the meeting, awkwardly sniffing the crotches of, or licking the shoes of other folks in the meeting.
For the most part this is all working out fine and dandy and I love having her with me. She has also given me good reason to get out of the office frequently for little walks, which I don’t offer myself enough of on my own. The only tricky part thus far has been the bus.
The bus is oh so very crowded on either side of the commute. And other folks commuting to and from work are not on guard to be looking out for a slightly shorter than usual black lab and her constantly swooshing tail on the bus. (And yes, it is doubly awkward when she licks the shoes of or sniffs the crotches of bus strangers but what are you going to do?)
She does pretty well, I must say. She is calm and patient and more than not, receives plenty of compliments for both.
I took the Seal to work today and all went fine – until the ride home- when…
She was just tired, I could tell and we didn’t have a proper walk at lunch time because I was just too busy. So, on the bus she was fidgety and uncomfortable.
The first ‘uh oh’ moment came when the heater kicked on, which scared the Seal and caused her to pee a little bit. The bus floors are grooved and her pee took up three different tracks so that with each stop the pee kept crawling forward a bit. By the time we got off the bus the pee had almost made it to the driver.
A little dog pee racing down the bus isle isn’t great but it isn’t that terrible nor is it disruptive. The moment of “oh-shit-I mean-at-least-I-can-blame-the-dog-but-oh-shit-none-the-less” was when she looked up at me with the sweetest little puppy dog eyes – which led one bus rider to comment on how pretty she was – followed by the most unwarranted, foul smelling dog fart that all of sudden began to take over every little bit of air there was to breathe. It was a misty bomb of ’someone obviously ate poison earlier today and now needs to poop!’ smell that, one by one, like the wave at a football game, had calm and resting end of the day faces turn to panicked scowls of “I can’t breathe! I really, really can’t breathe!”
I was mortified. And the Seal – oh, she knew! She looked at me with that, “Oops. Damn. My bad, huh!?!” look as she lowered her head. And we were guilty. Both of us. Clearly.
So, for the sake of the riders and selfishly wanting air that didn’t smell like decomposing dead squirrel marinated in ammonia with a hint of onion we got off the bus three stops early. The walk of shame, down an isle trickled in a small stream of urine, was long and full of some suffocating, judgmental looks.
But, the Seal is not one to dwell and I love her spirit of ‘what’s done is done – movin’ on now’ so, I followed her lead. We got off the bus, walked a few extra blocks, chased each other around in the park, went home, both gave Violet a big kiss and got on with our evening.
What’s done is done, we say, and we’re both sticking to it. And yes, we’ll both be on the bus come Monday.
(I promise this blog will not turn into post after post of pictures of the Seal balancing things. That said, she obviously has a natural talent so don’t be surprised if every now and then you run into a picture of her with something new on her head. And yes, I am fully aware that the idea is a total copycat of Dooce’s Daily Chuck. Chuck is a dog of great talent and the Seal looks up to him. And like Chuck, only novice, the Seal happens to be able and willing to balance things on her head as well.)
This is my dog, the Seal, with her frog.
The frog is on the dog because the dog loves her frog… and peanut butter biscuits, which were given to the dog every time the frog stayed on the dog’s nog long enough to take a shot for Jesse’s blog.
What a good dog with a frog on your nog for my blog. Very. good. dog.
The picture quality is terrible but the Seal kicks equilibrium’s ass! I ended up taking the picture with the camera on my phone as the Kongball, which is the Seal’s teddy bear of toys (besides her frog, which I’m sure we will be balancing soon), was not staying up there long enough for me to grab the real camera. We’ll get there though. Oh yes. We will. My guess is that we are just a few balancing acts away from pseudo-Chuckdom! (That dog has talent!)
Just look at those eyes. She’s staring at me like, “Jesseman, you got it all wrong, dude. The ball is supposed to go in my mouth! Not on my face. How much you had to drink, anyway? Regardless, I love you so unconditionally and with such reckless abandon that I will sit here with my favorite toy on my face (instead of in my mouth, where it goes!) while you point your phone at me, chanting, ‘stay, stay, stay’, like I could really not ‘stay’ right now without dropping my Kong on the floor, where you’ll be all, ‘Duuuuuude! So close! Ok, let’s try again’. My only hope is that you can tell how much I would appreciate a little peanut butter dog biscuit or two, for my efforts in entertaining your inane activity.”
The Seal not only got a handful of peanut butter treats but we also had a celebratory dance party in the kitchen. I don’t think she really understands why I was so excited, but I also don’t think she cares. I mean, who needs a reason to dance?
I’m a few hours away from leaving for my vacation with Ruth. I have made the bold choice to go on this vacation sans computer. I want to see what time away from staring at this screen may or may not do for my soul (is it really sucking it out or does it just feel that way? We shall see). Not to say I won’t jump at the chance if there happens to be free internet somewhere along the way. But, in case there isn’t, and I am internet-sober for this entire trip, you may not hear anything from me for a week or so.
This also means that the staff here at jljj is off the hook for a bit too. Violet, Fraidy, Marcus and the Seal can all rest assured that any and all follies, cute gesture, slip ups, and pooping of clothing will go undocumented for a brief bit of time. Is this to their relief or less reason to get up in the morning? They will have to figure that out and let me know. Regardless, I will be back soon and will promptly begin to overly observe and document my little family… and then, I’ll blog about it all… like I do.
And just remember, although Thursday may come and go a few times, Cher loves you.
That is what the Seal did this morning. Yes indeed. She shit a shirt. Well, part of one. Which makes me wonder where the rest is. Time will tell, this I know.
We were at our unofficial dawgpark this morning and I was throwing a ball and she was bringing the ball back to me over and over… and over again. Just like we do every morning. And every morning, at some point in all of this terrific fetching fun, the Seal’s bowels get a little jump start on the day. Unbeknownst to her, this is actually the main purpose for this too-early-in-the-morning activity. That, and to run her little ass off so that she’ll be too tired to eat things that are not food. Like shirts.
Oh yes, the Seal has found a new interest in interior design. Her nest, as we refer to it, is in the living room and it is her favorite place to be, except for the couch, where she is not allowed. And the only way to keep her off of the couch is to put the coffee table on top of it before we go anywhere. This nest makes the Seal very happy. She spends a lot of time keeping things about it just right. She will circle around and around… and around in it, getting her blanket and stuffed animals just right before she flops down, grunts and takes a little snoozer.
But lately, for unknown reasons, she has found her nest a bit empty, a bit drab. And so, she has been taking it upon herself to decorate it while we’re away. You know, to add some pizazz, a little splash of je ne sais quoi, give it that little something to tie things together. And occasionally, as I discovered this morning, she taste tests her decorations.
To date she has tried a fair amount of décor options. We have come home to find the Seal’s nest decorated with different combinations of things like: wooden spoons, toilet paper rolls, 2 pound bags of nutritional yeast, opened up and scattered all over the fucking place, you know, for that fun yellow accenting. Dirty dishes, toothpaste, spaghetti noodles, measuring cups, coffee filter complete with used, wet grounds, for that earthy-sustainability-feel, scarves, sponges, dvd’s, various paper- turned-confetti, for that spontaneous-party-feel, a baseball hat, a bag of apple, a six pack of ginger ale, pens, hangers, dishtowels, ear plugs, bobby-pins, dirty socks, t-shirts, and on and on I could go.
Every once in a while it does look kind of nice. Cozier. And with decent color themes, which is impressive seeing as she is color blind.
A few days ago the Seal’s décor choice was so avant-garde that Violet and I both couldn’t help but to gasp when we first saw it. Kind of like that art piece that just hits you by surprise. This was followed by Violet covering her mouth, shaking her head, mumbling, “NO. No, she didn’t! How?” which really made the Seal sit up tall and proud.
The Seal’s decorating style had finally gone over the top for our taste. And I am so glad, and will forever be so glad, that we didn’t arrive home with company in tow. We came home, opened the front door and there was our proud little seal pup, tail flapping, tongue dangling, big smile, sitting in her nest amongst a variety of the previously mentioned objects and, this time, including what we had thought was a well hidden toy-bone-looking-object that is in fact a toy of sorts, but not a bone and not for dogs. No. Not for dogs at all.
So, now the routine is one of two: Put everything away. Very, very away. Super away. Away squared. Up high or in things that close and preferably that lock -or- Take her with us every time we go anywhere.
Both options have been time consuming but the Seal’s need to decorate is unstoppable and her style-choices are simply too bold for our taste.
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