I Ran Away

I read my horoscope last week & it said I needed to run away. I couldn’t agree more.

Tonight, after slowly walking the dogs around the block for the umpteenth million time, while Zephyr wandered away from me, because he’s figured out I can’t grab him if I have Trooper, I’d had it. I took the dogs home, threw their leashed in the basket, grabbed my purse & nearly ran out the door.

My car is gone. It died today again–died is becoming a word my jeep does more often than not now. Everything in my life is dying & breaking–my dogs, my jeep, my apartment. AND I’M TIRED!

So tired, and losing my patience with this slowness, this tedious, every day, slowness and breaking down, so I ran away.

You wouldn’t know it. You would call it “going out for the evening”, but for me, it was running away.

I rode my bike all the way downtown–me, on my bike! I rode all the way to Hot Italian, my new favorite bar/pizza spot–all white, black, marble, very modern. It shines & glitters. It’s clean. It’s  everything my life isn’t right now.

I ordered something with vodka, limoncella & ice. It was splendidly tall & fizzy. I flipped through Italian Elle & ordered fresh basil pizza with a thin, thin crust. And I didn’t think about the dogs once. Not once. No worry, no fretting, no nothing. I was free.

This has got to be what parents feel like when they have just given and given, and one day, that’s just it. There’s nothing left to give, if they don’t give to themselves, and fast.

There are so many things I don’t do anymore– leave town, for one, kayaking, tango. I need more time, out there, or just more time with me, sans dogs.

And the funny thing was, tonight? I wasn’t scared–not sitting alone at the bar, not riding my bike home at dusk without a light, not taking alleys, nothing. I felt free. And free is something I haven’t felt for a very long time.

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Zephyr, Happiness

Over 100 degrees again today and Zephyr refused to come indoors near the AC. He spent his day prostrate on the garage concrete floor. Time for a little hose action! Zephyr loves to play in the hose.

Look at that face?  A moment of complete happiness. We grab then wherever and whenever we can. ❤

d, xo

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Zephyr’s Weather Report

Zephyr is always hot. He hates being in the house, lounges on the cold cement outdoors, in the garage, in the dirt. The first sign of cold weather and he’s begging to get in the jeep. He can sit there for hours. It’s officially Fall.

How could I not love this guy?

d, xo

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Walking The River

Today was windy and cool, a California autumn on the heels of a hot Indian summer. Zephyr and I  hadn’t been to the river in weeks. It was time.

Starting out in the park. Bright eyed and ready to walk.

By 5:30 the sun was heading west, cooling down so Zephyr could make the first half of the hot dry trek to the river. I love the dusty dirt road, but Zephyr heats up fast these days. I have to be careful.

If Zephyr were any other animal. He would be an otter.

The water is still amazingly high, higher than I’ve ever seen it this late in the season. Gates at Folsom must be wide open, because you can see the rise marks along the sand.

The sun was still hot on the upper dirt road, so we took the forest path along the river, which stays hidden in trees and vines. The path is very narrow in places. Fallen trees block passages. Despite, the dreadful “beaver fence” all along the rocky ledge, the beaver have been busy. (The dreadful fence keeps deer out, dogs out, people too, but the beaver, not a chance.)

Zephyr ahead of me on the trail. He trots on then turns and makes certain I’m coming. At 12 1/2 years old, he can still trek ahead. This makes me SO happy.

A little trouble on the big rocks at the end. Agility is best kept to the flat trail.

Coming back on the high road. Having fun in the setting sun.

We made it! Zephyr gets the rock ‘n’ roll dog award for this trek. Our celebratory photo.  Every single time we can still make this trek I feel blessed.

d, xo

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Accept The Good

I had a bit of meltdown last week. I got busted by the dog catcher, & Zephyr had a small scare from eating too much grass at the river.  A trip to the vet, some “as-long-as-you’re-here” blood work, some slightly scary news, but nothing frantic, immediate, just a real wake-up call that Zephyr is indeed getting old. I can’t bear the thought, but then I’m getting older too.

***

My time on Twitter has brought me–us–a very sweet new friend. Although we’ve never met face-to-face, she’s just the kindest person. She watched my meltdown, my nervous freak out that Zephyr was getting old & I just couldn’t bear or stop the clock! (insert panic).

Today, I got a surprise package in the mail from her: “Old Dogs are the best dogs“. The photos would make the most stoic soul weep. I’ve already reached for the Kleenex, twice.

Thank you Suzanne. You have a very big heart,

d, xo

Zephyr, not really interested in the photo, so much as the taste of the book, gave it a lick. At just about 12 years old, he is moving into the spry, yet senior, citizen department.  Although very distinguished, that muzzle used to be very dark.

Forgive that leash. I hate it. He hates it, but he’s been wandering off a bit. I find him standing out on the front lawn or the neighbor’s back yard. Not horrible, but a few weeks ago he crossed the street and the leash came out. We’re still adjusting.

After a nice walk this morning and meeting quite a few dogs along the way to play with, Zephyr is sprawled out on the cool pavement. The temperature is supposed to be 80 degrees today. We don’t do heat very well. I like big blue skies, but we both like chilly weather. We should move back to the beach.

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