Running with Pops

Running with Pops

Hey, it's me again! It's been raining the last coupla days so Pops and I haven't been out with the bike. Just walking around the neighborhood. Been a lot more peaceful this way. Yeah, no more getting jacked up by know-it-all busy-bodies. Guess Pops been telling you about all that, huh! Yeah, that last one really got to him, after a string of them lately. What's up with that?! 

He held it pretty good, though. The most he said was "Shut up."  No "F' word or nuthin'. But for most of the ride he was kinda lost in his own thoughts. Every now and then I hear him breathing deep, and we weren't even going up a hill or nuthin'. A coupla times he shook his head and shoulders - kinda like what we do when we're wet but he doesn't know how to do it right. I think it made him a bit dizzy! LOL! It wasn't till we got to Stowe Lake that he lightened up. I mean, who wouldn't? It was beautiful out there. They just finished paving the road so it was all smooth and smelling nice from the rain and just then, the sun came out too. That's when he remembered I was there and he looked over at me and gave me a treat. "Good dog!" he said, but I didn't do anything to deserve a treat. 'Course I took it anyway. Who needs a reason?!

Seems to me Pops got a lot more upset than need be. Funny. I mean, not his being upset but how he got upset. You know how he said them people identified themselves with their misery, like, their identity = misery? And that's why they act the way they do? Well, seems to be Pops got some identity thing too, although it's not about being unhappy. See, Pops sees himself as a good dog person - kind, knowledgeable and conscientious - like, picking up my poop and everything. And he is all that - I'm a witness and I can testify! But... he's built himself an identity around it. Now, identity, as we Buddhists know, is an illusory thing. There is no fixed thing called "I" and as long as we think we have one, we cling to it, defend it and sometimes lay a heavy trip on others because of it, like them people who been harassing him. So Pops was upset that the nice image or ID he has of himself was disrespected. But really, it was just all of them having identity clashes with each other - like how me and Trina bark at other dogs in our neighborhood sometimes.

Yeah, I say sometimes. I usually never bark or harass other dogs. I'm one mellow guy. But with Trina around, she gets me going. There' re a coupla yappers that he hates. So when she barks, I bark. Gotta give her support, right? I mean, she's my sister and all. Plus, I don't know what we're barking at half the time, but I don't want her to think I'm a flake, or a wuss. See? We all got ID issues.

With Trina, it's also from her conditioning. I don't know her past but humans have done all kinds of shitty things to us dogs. Moms and Pops have been real good to her but they can't seem to change some things. I guess Trina still thinks she's a shepherd even though there's no sheep around to protect and no bad wolves to attack us. She's stuck on her identity. LOL! But... She did scare away someone who tried to steal the planter on our front stoop once. Yeah, she was baa-a-ad!

Anyway, I think Pops had a few days to chill out and I think he sees through some of his own stuff. I guess being scolded is one of his hot buttons, especially when it comes from white people. Yeah, a lot of karma and past conditioning... Shit happens and it takes a lot to get over it, which is why I say, don't give people shit! It's gonna come back to you one way or another. Don't add any more to what we already got!

Adios, muchachos!

Biking with Dharma Dog

A little reality note: just 'cause you're happy, it doesn't mean that happiness gets automatically spread to everyone you meet. Sometimes it incurs just the opposite. Dharma dog and I have been encountering that a lot lately, coming across people who are so identified with their misery that they can't stand to see anyone else having a good time... or doing something a little out of the ordinary, like riding a bike with a dog leashed to it - despite the fact that we do it using one of the safest contraptions designed for doing this sort of thing.

Golden Gate lady #1: 

"How does he get to sniff with you dragging him around like that? That's so cruel!" 

She has a little yapper on a leash and it's sniffing and marking all over the place - not a healthy thing for dog or environment. Dog pee is highly acidic and fries all vegetation it comes in contact with. And incessant marking is a symptom and cause of neurosis. She has no idea that Huskies love to run, especially on a leash because they can pretend to be pulling a sled. Most likely, she didn't even see what kind of dog I had or even know what a Husky is.

Golden Gate lady #2: 

"Your dog is tired!" she shouts as she rides by on her bike, not waiting for any answer from me but slows down enough to give me a dirty look. Of course, none of these self appointed guardians of animal welfare are interested in dialog. I look at Nikki and he isn't anywhere near tired. I know his limits very well by now and I never ride faster than he can run.

Presidio lady:

Training her dog on the footpath. Her dog is on a leash and wears a muzzle. She's trying to get its attention with a food bribe, trying to work it in between the muzzle! Her dog, as most normal dogs, was more interested in meeting Nikki. She's pissed. The control freak can't get control.

"Do you have a leash?" She asks.

"Yeah," I said.

"Will you put it on?"

"No," I said. "I told you he's friendly and your dog doesn't seem to mind him at all," I said, riding off, with Nikki trailing behind off-leash, totally uninterested in the dog or its owner. She begins to yell at me and continues yelling as I pull away.

Central Ave lady: 

"Leash too short," she says and looks at me with disapproval.

"Huh?" I said, incredulously. 

"Leash too short." 

"The leash is fine," I said, not bothering to waste time explaining that the leash is intentionally kept short so the dog doesn't run in front of the bike or get it tangled up in the rear wheel. At the same time, there was plenty of slack for the dog to move about comfortably.

"That's cruelty to animals!" she says.

By now, I ran out of patience with these people. I said, "SHUT up!" and pulled away.

Now... I wonder if it's a coincidence that these were all women. Seems like unhappy men resort to physical violence while their female counterparts use psychological aggression. And is it a coincidence that they were all white? Are they less inhibited about berating people of color than they are with white people? Do they feel bolder with me and morally superior? Or were they just looking to find some company for their misery?

Hmmm... probably all of the above. 

Deep breaths... shake it off. Look at Nikki, give him a treat. "What a good dog!" The new pavement around Stowe Lake is a dream! And the morning air, after a sprinkle of rain, smells so fresh and clean!

Nikki Dharma Dog

Whew, had to take a break after that last post. I guess it's pretty obvious now, that all dogs are dharma dogs. They have so much to teach us about life, about ourselves. It was really more about the level of my own Buddhist practice that I began to call Nikki the dharma dog, and not any of the dogs before. And while our morning outings have taken us to places of quietude and contemplation, it was my relationship with Nikki - and the way it unfolded - that made me recognize him as the dharma dog.

For the longest time, Nikki lived in the shadow of Kaleo, even as I hated to admit it, I held back my affection and became disappointed when unrealistic and unfair expectations were placed on him. It took a huge effort to see Nikki for himself and not as a failed replacement for Kaleo. Eventually, mindful persistence and discipline paid off. I began to appreciate and see him as a beautiful dog totally in his own right. And with with Nikki's patience and generosity we managed to form a special bond that is uniquely our own. 

Kaleo

Kaleo is my favorite dog of all time. Yes, I admit it. Yes, we're not supposed to have favorites, but it happens. You can't will it away, or dismiss it based on some sort of "thought correctness." Truth is, some sentient beings resonate with us more deeply than others -  be it a child, a pet or a life partner. It has to do with our karma. And so it is that Kaleo touched me more deeply than any dog so far. The grief and despair I felt at his passing was greater than any I've experienced - for dog or human.

I've always felt that Kaleo and I had known each other in a previous life. With those piercing eyes, I felt the stare of my ancestors. I felt the connection to memory from a long, long time ago. But it wasn't the memory of the mind, but of the heart and soul. And due to fortune or karma, we were brought together again, perhaps, as reward for good behavior. 

Why, then, were we separated again so soon? Is it really true that all good things don't last? Was it to teach me about impermanence, about loss? To prepare me for even greater losses up ahead? There are, of course, no definitive answers, suffice it to keep the thoughts in mind, for when situations do arise, I would be better prepared to do what I have to do. And ever since I buried him, I've felt much more at peace with his passing. I am deeply grateful.

Trina and Kaleo

Trina brought us so much joy from day one. My mother was still living with us then, and when Trina came into our home for the first time, she went straight to my mother and put her head in her lap and looked up at her with those big, pleading brown eyes. Mom was instantly won over.

Trina has always been such a good girl - we never had to house train her. In the ten years since we've had her, she has had only one "accident" and that was because she was sick. She always came when called and before long, we were letting her run off leash. 

She loved playing with other dogs - "stalking" them from distance, then making a last minute dash toward them with "no-holds" exuberance. But what she really loved was being chased and boy, did she own that game! She had a thing or two to show the guys in football - how to make it through the best defense with lightning quick fakes to the left, then right, left again, getting low to the ground for the sharpest turns, then circling around so she ended up chasing the chaser! She was so good other dogs soon gave up playing with her. They didn't stand a chance.

Because Mom was getting on in age, she could not spend the kind of active time with Trina. When Karen thought out loud about getting another dog to keep Trina company, it was all I needed to hit the internet dog search. I had actually always liked Huskies, so I thought this time, I would get one. I found one posted by a Northern dogs rescue organization in Salinas, CA. It was love at first sight. I made arrangements to see the dog and brought Trina with me to make sure it will be one she liked. And for her, it was love at first sight, as well. She and Kaleo (called Nohea then) hit it off right away, and it was like, " Can we take him home, Daddy, can we, can we? Ple-e-e-ase!"

Well, it took a couple of days for me to finally decide, as I wasn't sure about having two dogs in the house. But, of course, you know I was going to bring him home. As it turned out, they became the best buddies ever... and no trouble whatsoever.

Trina

Okay, okay! Dharma dog bugged me enough to get back to posting. Said he got tired of sub'ing for me. Can't blame him... Now... where was I? Oh yeah, just before I left for Vancouver I was supposed to tell Trina's story. 

Vancouver, by the way, was great. I rode the Gran Fondo Whistler and managed to finish in a decent time - nothing to brag about, but I did finish. Then, typically when we're up there, wifey and I ate our way through Vancouver. Much as I enjoyed it, I'm glad to be back. And be with my "kids" again. Been retreating into the garden - pruning, replanting and making myself a meditation station to do daily sitting at sunrise.

So... about Trina. I found Trina online - Petfinders.com, I think. She lived in Sacramento, so wifey, i.e., Karen and I drove out there "just to look." It was a bit soon after Tybone had died, but I decided that getting a new dog, while it replaced a hole in my heart, will never replace the dog. There will always a place for Tybone. 

Trina lived in a foster home with about a dozen other dogs with this lady who had a couple of acres around her house in rural Sacramento. I had called ahead, so when we got there the lady called out to Trina. She had a different name then. She was named "America," as everyone was still reeling from the shock and aftermath of 9/11. So, even before she came to us, Trina was already a healer and a heart-mender. I didn't know then that she was to play that role two times - first was, of course, after Tybone's passing, but just five years later, a second time after we lost our beloved Kaleo.

 
Trina was two when we brought her home on Valentine's Day in 2002. We named her Trina during the drive home. Soon, I was also referring to her as the Princess of Hearts, and what a sweetheart she is! Just as the saying goes, she "wears her heart on her sleeve." She's the most openly giving and loving dog ever. She does not hold back. She was also full of surprises. The first time a fire engine went by the house, Karen and I were shocked when Trina leaned back on her haunches and began howling with all her might. She does not hold back!

It took years for us to find out that Trina is an Icelandic sheepdog and this propensity for howling is a typical characteristic of the breed. All along, we had been told she's part Golden Retriever and part Shepherd. This was easy to see, though we were constantly guessing at which of the shepherds, but when I ran across a dog that could have been her twin, I found out, for the first time, about Icelandic Sheep dogs and realized that this must be what Trina is. 

Shepherd, sheep dog - whatever you call it, Trina is definitely protective, vigilant and territorial. And she has no interest in chasing after balls, let alone retrieving them.

There's so much to tell about Trina, her story would have to be told on a continuous basis. So for now, just take a llok at early pictures of her. Oh, and her other nickname is "Sweetie pie."

Ty

Hey, look at these old pictures Pops found while cleaning out his man cave! This is Ty. His full name was Tyrone but he was usually called Ty... and then Mom's started calling him "Tybone" and that kinda stuck. 

Tybone was adopted from the SPCA back in '95. Moms and Pops went there to look for a cat... a CAT! WTF! Moms doesn't like cats (Yay Moms!) but she relented when Pops wouldn't stop moaning and groaning about it. Then, for some reason they decided to look at dogs while they were there and Pops fell in love with the dog.

"It was those big brown eyes," Pops said. "I've never seen such soulful eyes on a dog or a human!"

Tybone was the sweetest dog with people, Pops said, but he had real issues with other dogs. He just went berserko every time he saw another dog, so walking him was very hard, although in those days there weren't that many dogs in the neighborhood. They never knew why or how he got that way. The SPCA folks even warned Moms and Pops about this but they decided to take him anyway. You know Poops was in love with that dog! "We'll deal with it," he said.

Tybone was real smart. Pops said it didn't take but once for him to say, "Your name is 'Ty'  for him to understand. (Took me a while to get used to being called "Nikki!") Then, when Pops and Moms were talking and didn't want Ty to know they were saying the word, "treat,'" they would spell it out. After just that one time, Ty knew what "T-R-E-A-T" meant! But... poor Ty, Moms and Pops didn't know much about dogs back then. He was Pops' first dog. And with Ty's hate-other-dogs problem, he could never be let off leash. Ty didn't get to run around like I do. 

Pops was heart-broken when Ty died. They didn't knw he had a tumor in him, but one night, it got so big it burst his spleen. Moms and Pops woke up to a real sick dog. Ty went into the garden and hid under some bushes way in the back of the garden.  Pops said he kinda panicked. He dug Tybone out from under the bush and carried him upstairs through the house and into the car and drove him to the vet. The vet was dealing with another emergency, so he put Ty in a crate in the back for observation. At that point no one knew what was wrong. There was nothing for Pops to do but go home and wait. Then, a phone call came. The vet said, "Ty passed."

Pops was not only sad that he lost Ty but he was sorry that he didn't just sit with Ty by the bush and waited with him. Instead, Ty was left to die all alone in a strange place. If he only knew that Ty was going to die anyway he wouldn't have put poor Ty through all that trauma in his last moments. Pops vowed to never let any dog of his go like that again.

A few months later, on Valentine's Day in 2002, Moms and Pops brought Trina home. I'll let him tell you that story.