Dog's best friend

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Many of you have asked me how Zing responded to my recent trip to Miami. I was worried about the separation too.  Here’s the report I sent this morning to Dr. Karen, Zing’s behavioral medicine vet at UC-Davis:

Dear Karen,

Zing and I are calmer and pretty settled now — even after he spent Christmas week at Grateful Dog while I was in Miami. 

After I returned, there was some back-tracking, when he would whimper at the door after about 2 minutes of me being out in the hallway, instead of the 10 min. before the holiday. I got pretty discouraged, thinking this may never be settled. I want my freedom to take classes, have coffee with friends, go out to dinner on the spur of the moment ...

I decided to read some dog books and so far have only read “I’ll be Home Soon: How to Prevent and Treat Separation Anxiety” by Patricia B. McConnell. I used to listen to her on NPR. McConnell mirrors your advice. 

Crucially,  thanks to you, I’ve discovered Zing’s irresistible treat: wet dog food frozen in toilet paper tubes, which I cut in half.  Until this, he either scarfed treats down too quickly, or lost interest; either way, he was not distracted. 

So far I go out the door and come right back in. I’ll move along to staying out in the hall longer and then pushing the elevator so he hears it open and close and then go down, and stay away longer and longer. We were farther ahead before Christmas, but with a bit of whimpering or a couple of short barks — so now I’m going to move slower to avoid those anxious sounds. 

And I’ll be in Miami again (to meet with my sisters) for another week starting Wednesday. I’m hoping we transition back to normal as smoothly as we did last week. 

The effective treat (I hope it continues to be!), plus exercise beforehand and making sure Zing is hungry are giving me hope. Also, Grateful Dog and a (not always available) dog-sitter are great supports. I may need an additional dog-sitter. 

 If things progress smoothly, then great -- I’ll send you an invitation to Zing’s graduation! But earlier this week I almost lost hope. If I do need more support, I assume that I should call and make an appointment. Right? I’m not sure what that support might be — other than listening and encouraging. You’ve explained and demonstrated and suggested adjustments to the program very clearly. I suspect the hardest work now for me is patience, remembering how Zing makes me smile and laugh and introduces me to new friends. He’s worth the trouble. 

Meanwhile, I think of you every day, with gratitude!

Kathleen

So, there’s the Zing update. We’re going back to go forward. Say some dog prayers!

Love,

k

You are beautiful

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

I’m just wrapping up — yes, I believe I am — just wrapping up loose ends here in my new home. Clearly, this is now home. Not perfect, not ever complete, but comfortably mine. Three rooms full of space, color, memory… My to-do list is finally brief, and this morning I accomplished a few last bits — even got Rosa a good car wash (don’t tell anyone— but it’s just the second she’s had in five months!), and Zing is caught up on his shots and flea medicine — chores Clark used to take care of, and harder than you might think to incorporate into my life. Clark would be happy with the way we’re beginning 2017. 

Instead of New Year resolutions, I’m picking three words to keep in mind for the month, and I will repeat or change them in February. When Clark died in June my words were Purple Couch, Spirit and Beauty. I think Purple Couch is finished for now. I’m keeping Spirit and Beauty and adding another, which I haven’t decided yet. 

I was considering the word beauty as Zing and I walked past the yoga studio around the corner from the vet's office. I was thinking how we are each free to define beauty for ourselves. That seemed like a revolutionary thought. Then I glanced up and saw this sign pasted on the window we were passing: It said You are Beautiful. 

Yes, you are!

Love,

k

Naps and tea and violas

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Thanks for your sympathy and suggestions for flu — I spent the day gladly following advice — napping on the couch, brewing delicious tea (1 sliced lemon, 1 T chopped ginger, 2 cloves, 2 1/2 C. boiling water -- or tea -- or something else. Steep 1/2 hour. Warm up again, but don’t boil. Add a touch of red pepper at the end!), going to the drugstore for vitamins, and airplane prep tablets. Also disinfectant to wash hands in flight. I had fun, because I’m pretty close to well again. 

Rejuvenated, I walked to the noon chamber music at that church across from the Capitol. On the way I heard interesting bits of conversation from women and men with umbrellas and well-pressed clothes. But I never caught enough to make any sense. (“When you talk to them, be sure not to reveal … " “Is it a promotion? Are you getting paid more?”) This dry talk as prologue made the music all the the sweeter. Today it was violas, I think, or something like that. I missed the intro. At first I thought they were cellos, big and little. I am loving these concerts.

And that long line Zing and I pass each morning waiting at the federal building — it’s for the INS — people taking a citizenship test or with other immigration issues. A man who used to work in the building told me INS goes in the front and Homeland Security goes in the back — through an electric-powered gate with a pointy black metal fence.

Love,
k

Violas

Little bright spots

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Nothing happened again today. Except for walking Zing, I didn’t leave the apartment. It was a good day to stay inside anyway — cold (high of 51°, I heard) — gray, rainy, windy. Last summer people told me it would get this way in Sacramento, but I didn’t believe it.  

This morning Zing and I passed a man raking soggy leaves at the curb of the next apartments. On a whim I said, “Thank you for your work.” (It was so miserable outside!) He nodded and smiled. “I take care of this whole block of apartments.” That’s a lot of leaves, we agreed.

And farther on, at Capitol Mall, where there are banks and government offices, stoic people lined up in front of the federal building, waiting, I think for 8 a.m. or maybe 9. I’ve got to find out why they’re there, but today it was uninviting to walk even one extra step. Then along came a man in a tailored coat and a felt fedora, and guess what he was doing as he walked briskly among all those people on their phones? He was reading a book, turning pages and everything. He brightened my morning.  

Love,
k

On the upside of miserable

Written this morning:

Dear Friends, 
I got the flu -- pretty common after air travel -- and fell asleep without writing. Twelve hours later, Zing was tapping my shoulder to wake me. Then it was a race between me getting dressed and his pee machine. (Guess who won?) That got my blood moving, and now I'm on the up side of miserable. Thanks to Clark, I have a collection of cold and flu medications to help.  


Love,
k

Happy Heart -- not a bad start!

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

We’re off into the new year! I meant to to do nothing all day long, but failed. Whatever little things I accomplished were easy, partly because I’m getting a cold, and you know how that separates your head from reality. Best was a long walk-talk with Mary; she in the Ohio woods and me (and Zing) in the city, from 5th Street to 23rd Street and back. Ouch! my knee hurts! It didn’t hurt at the time, though — definitely worth it!

In spite of myself I accomplished a couple things I’d been putting off for months. Believe it or not, I think I copied a TV program — Sherlock, which starts tonight. Steph showed me how months ago, but I never followed up. I think I remember, though. Thanks, Steph!

And with three days left before the deadline, I entered my painted quilt Happy Heart in the Sacred Threads national competition. Whether or not I get into the show, my application means I’m back in the art quilt community. That part of me died for a few months. I finished the quilt earlier in 2016, so you may have seen it, but here’s my explanation of how I made it and how it fits into my spiritual journey (which is what the application asks). 

Our Florida home was surrounded by birds and blossoms, so I was enchanted with flowers and wings. I sketched a pair of flowered wings, and when I put them together in a new way they created this heart, which I layered, stitched, and painted in happy colors. Happy Heart: it expressed just how I felt then, not so long ago. But soon after the quilt was finished my husband died suddenly and happiness fled. It's slowly returning, and whenever I'm overwhelmed with loss I look at this quilt and remember how happy he made me and how happy he still wants me to be.Love, k Happy Heart 30.5" x 36" Kona cotton on cotton duck, batting stitch,  acrylic paint

Small good omens

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

It was 9 p.m. when Zing and I walked our routine short night way. Our street is usually quiet in the evening, but tonight there were people of all ages walking in the other direction. So we turned and joined the crowd. One block down, one block over. By the time we got to the Wells Fargo building on Capitol Mall traffic was jammed and everyone was looking over toward the river and the yellow bridge. It wasn’t midnight, but fireworks sizzled in the sky. Somehow, they didn’t feel as aggressive as on July 4. The showers of sparks were lower and broader. There is no such thing as a gentle firework, but these were close. I sat down on the bench in front of the bank and held Zing in my lap as a garden of red splashed overhead. It felt like a good omen, a wink in the sky from Clark. We didn’t stay long — Zing isn’t one of those dogs who cowers at loud noises, but he doesn’t like them much either. 

Another good thing happened a little earlier. You know I like to have cinnamon rolls for Sunday breakfast to keep up our old tradition. But it looked like that wasn’t going to happen tomorrow — a bad New Year omen indeed, if you pay attention to such things. (I don’t … or maybe I do… ) I was late getting to Freeport Boulevard, home of the pink box bakery and a great doughnut shop. Both had open signs displayed, but they must have turned them to closed as I passed and parked. I gazed sadly inside, but the clerks just looked down at the floor and kept sweeping. No rolls for me! Luckily, after I picked Zing up at Grateful Dog we took a stroll through that neighborhood and passed a nothing-looking bakery that I’ve often ignored. But it was open and I was desperate, so I parked Zing back in Rosa and returned: not fancy, just rolls and cookies and a Cannoli sign. “Do you have cannoli?” I asked. “Sometimes,” the young woman behind the counter said. “ … whenever the owner feels like making them.” She laughed and started to describe the routine. “We close at 5:30. The owner comes in at about 7:30 and he bakes all night. Everything is baked from scratch right here. He’s had the shop for 20 years, and sometimes the man who had it before him returns and joins in the baking. I love this place!” I think I might too. Maybe someday I’ll even get a cannoli. 

Two small, good signs for the new year. May yours be full of small good things!

Love,

k