- A place to hang yo’ hat and bandana
- Big enough to jump on the couch now
- 11 weeks mark
- Feelin’ clay pots, wooden bowls and rocks lately
- I felt pretty after using this mask
- Bye-bye dry wintery skin (even in California)
- Lola, in ink
- Play fighting. All day, errday.
- Fav old school photo of Trey, taken by a friend when he was sixteen
- Shacka Brah! (a weird brain child drawing by Trey)
This is a video I put together from our trip to Pismo Beach a couple weeks ago. I thought I’d share it here. Here’s to it being Friday and hoping you all have a stellar weekend.
Keep is such a rad little pup. She’s 10 weeks and learning fast. She’s got these floppy ears that are trying their best to stand up, but they end up leaning over to the left like there’s a strong wind coming from the east most of the time. She probably won’t be able to fit under the couch next week, which is sort of bittersweet because when we first brought her home she was scared and found shelter under there. Now she likes to pop out from under the couch and sneak attack Jack for fun. They play all day, it’s the best thing. To think I was ever afraid of introducing another dog into Jack’s life! She knows how to sit, give paw, lay down, and spin on command. We’re working on roll over. I’ll post a video of that soon. She’s house trained and likes to play fetch. Border collies and herding dogs in general (Jack is one too) are so impressive. They are so loyal and smart. It’s really fun having her.
Also, Trey and I got a kick out of the last photo…look at that glamour shot, with her little Cindy Crawford beauty spot on her face. Get ready Vogue…or should I say Dogue? Work it!
I’ve been called a tomboy for most of my life. I grew up with an older brother, loved exploring the woods behind my house and was always relatively athletic. In college, I lived with two guys and found myself on the porch drinking beer with guys while they worked on their bikes most nights. Then I became a biologist in a predominately male field. I used to loathe the word “tomboy”. I thought it was an unfair classification of females who happened to like things our society had classified as being “boyish”. Why did driving a manual vehicle and liking the outdoors have to be considered “boy-like” instead of just a girl’s personal preference? Why did the word boy even have to be involved? I also wasn’t a fan of being seen only as a guy’s girl when I was most definitely a girl’s girl too. But, lately I’ve come around to the word, seeing it used more and more as a term to describe a certain style that celebrates independent females who blur the lines between traditional masculine and feminine styles. Women who rebel against the norm and embrace the general badassery that comes along with it. I like having a style that reflects that part of my personality. Lately I’ve been inspired by the tomboy aesthetic, especially the late sixties/early seventies era styles with the classic vintage shirts, a good pair of blue jeans and plain cotton tees with that perfectly worn-in look to them.
We drove down to Pismo Beach for the long weekend. Pismo is a cool spot about half way in between San Francisco and LA. You can drive out on the beach and camp, have fires, and play on the dunes. It was Keep’s first camping trip. When Jack was her age we took him to Lake Tahoe and it was a great experience, so we thought it was time we got her out and let her start experiencing our way of life outside of the house. I loved everything about this trip. The way we drove out on the beach and slept in the back of our old truck with the pups between us. How we stood side by side looking out at the setting sun while Keeper chewed on sand dollars on the beach. How the sky looked like it was on fire from the layers of red and pinks streaks. Waking up to the smell of salt water in our hair and dog breath in our faces. How we drove home up the 1 and stopped along the way to sit on the cliffs that fell into the sea below. The sounds of the elephant seals in the rookery. Looking over and seeing Jack’s head out of the back window, his face silhouetted by the sun shining on the Pacific. How Lola, our Land Cruiser, got a new fan belt and air compressor once we got back to the Bay. How it reminds me that we’ll be building fires on beaches and chasing horizons until the sun goes down on us for good.
Keeper is 9 weeks old today. She is feisty, wild and sweet. In a few days she’ll be too big to fit behind the couch, her favorite hide out. She’s learning quickly and already knows how to “sit”, “give paw” and “lay down” on command. She tells us when she has to go outside and likes to carry her water bowl around when she wants more. At night, I’ll lay down with my back on the floor and fold my arm loosely in towards my side. She’ll find the space I created and curl up in the crease of my elbow. It puts a quiet smile on my face every time, this feeling of earning her trust and friendship.
This week and last have been busy ones. I’m looking forward to getting out and spending more time outdoors soon. We’re in the process of building a bed in the back of the Land Cruiser for a trip down the coast this weekend. Keep’s coming, Jack too. Woot.
“Hey bay, if you could eat anything you wanted right now, what would it be?” I asked Trey, looking up from the magazine I was reading on the couch. “Fried chicken from Fremont Diner in Napa”. He responded promptly from the next room having obviously already thought about this.
It was the weekend. We were on vacation from the week. We needed to take showers anyway. Driving an hour for fried chicken just made our brains feel right. So off we went with the dogs. Keeper sleeps a lot. She runs everywhere all enthusiastically and then just stops in her tracks and falls asleep in the middle of the floor. Her favorite place to sleep in the truck is either inside the center console that’s missing its top or on the bench seat in the back with Jack. She’s Jack’s biggest fan. He’s incredibly sweet to her. They play together a lot and she has perma-wet ears because Jack puts her whole head in his mouth.
Over the holidays we got a new puppy. A little girl border collie named Keeper. We had been talking about adding another dog to the mix for a while now, but had gone back and forth as to whether we should actually do it. It went something like this – “No, we’ve got all we need with Jack”, “Yes we should, Jack needs a dog buddy to grow up with” , “No, it might change Jack in a negative way”. Then, last week the opportunity came up to see a litter of unwanted border collie puppies an hour outside of Yosemite and we decided – “Yes, let’s do it”.
Jack and I have been by each other’s side for five years and there’s a certain amount of love and loyalty that comes with that, so it was really important to me that he didn’t feel like he was being replaced or anything (slightly anthropomorphizing here). When we got home, Jack kept his distance, his eyebrows tellingly furrowed with worry whenever she walked past him. But, like all mammals, there are certain introductory rituals that need to take place before a relationship is formed, and we knew it would take a little time before they would feel comfortable around each other.