He's a travelin' pup

Now that the question of his name was answered, it was on to the next concern. Would Albie be comfortable with leaving a home he has known for literally one night and travel across the state with two virtual strangers? With all his worldly possessions in tow (mind you, that only included a couple toys, a chewy and his crate), we were off on our first journey together. It was amazing. He absolutely loved being in the truck. We built a platform in the area behind the seats in the truck so he could look out of the back, but he decided the armrest between us was a perfect puppy perch. And that is where he spent most of the ride. We arrived at the house after dark and quickly got settled into our room. We set up the crate, wondering how he would do sleeping, not only in a strange room, but in a crate he'd only slept in once before. Albie was wonderful. We had no reason to worry at all. It was soon very obvious that he loves traveling. In fact, we have found that he is at his happiest when we are on the road. He loves being in a car. 

For four lovely days, we spent every moment together, enjoying the beautiful Sierra foothills. Albie did really well with all the people he met. He did great walking on a leash. We did find out he had kennel cough, which he must have got at the rescue. We fretted some over his persistent hacking, but he seemed quite healthy otherwise. Little did we know, this was just the beginning of many journeys to be made together. I would tell you more about that weekend, but I think pictures tell the story just as well.

Waiting to head out.

He was such a little thing.

Albie's first time in snow.

He's full of piss and vinegar, ok maybe just vinegar.

Waiting with his daddy. Yes, I'm mommy.

 

Canis Albicaulis Maculata

"Huh?" That's what Kevin decided should be his name. I know that we had to change it. No offense to the musician, but Kenny G just did not fit. He just didn't look like a saxophone player. Ok, what does that mean? Kevin said it was Latin for white, spotted dog. Kevin is a self-taught botanist whose memory is amazing when it comes to scientific names of numerous California native plants. I understood why he chose the name, but it's really not something that rolls off the tongue. I couldn't see either of us recalling him with that huge moniker. Still, I was fine with the name as long as we could find something we could call him in mixed company. Mac was one choice, but I pushed for Albie. I thought it fit his personality and there were nowhere near as many dogs with that name as there were with the name Mac. From that point on, he was known as Albie. One problem solved. 

Albie seemed to settle in pretty quickly to our home, but as soon as he felt comfortable we were packing up and hitting the road. It was important to have a nice, quiet evening the night before all the chaos began. We decided to relax and watch a movie, figuring he would sleep through it. Alas, little did we know our choice that evening would cause quite a bit of excitement for him. We settled in and started watching 'Up'. I won't go into movie review mode, suffice it to say the dogs near the end of the movie really got Albie worked up. With all the growling, snarling and barking, he was captivated and a little upset. We felt horrible. What awful parents we were! It hadn't been more than 48 hours and we were all ready traumatizing our little boy. Though he did make it to the end of the film, we have noticed he is easily attracted to things on the television, often rushing the screen in 'attack' mode. Great. It's never too early to scar a formidable mind.

 

"I think I've found the one"

Kevin pointed at his laptop. He'd been searching for a while. I wasn't even aware of how seriously he had been looking. It's not that I didn't have any input into this very important decision, but I knew that this had to be something Kevin initiated. And not because this dog would be his and not mine. The fact is this dog would be spending most of it's time with him, going to work with him nearly every day. And let's be honest, I was pretty easy to please. I just wanted a dog. Kevin showed me the picture from the website. There sat a small, white dog with a big, brown spot over one eye. He had that typical puppy pose with one front leg slightly bent as if he were dying to hand you his paw. (Nearly three years later my heart still melts when he busts that pose). "But he has a tail," I pointed out. Kevin was willing to overlook this tiny flaw. He said there was something in the look that puppy gave the camera. One thing was certain, he was a cute, fuzzy little thing. 
Kevin contacted the rescue where he was living and arranged to meet him. The day came and we made the hour drive, both of us anxious to see what this dog was like. I didn't want to set my expectations too high. This was the first dog Kevin had even called about. I found it difficult to think that the first one would be the one. 
The rescue was in a home in a quiet neighborhood. The woman who ran it specialized almost exclusively in cattle dogs. She introduced us to Kenny G, as he was known then. She explained how he had found his way to her. He had been found abandoned at a laundromat in Monument Valley, Utah, by a family from the Bay area. They were on vacation and decided to take him to a veterinarian to have him checked out. The vet told them that he was about six weeks old and seemed to be in good health. They decided to take him with them and his life on the road began. For two weeks, he rode around with them while they took in the sights. When they got home, they made the difficult decision to give him up. We don't know why they did, but we will be forever grateful for it. They found out about the cattle dog rescue and brought him to her. While she told us the story, Kenny G ran around on the deck and chewed on a bully stick. He was now 3 months old. She let us take him for a walk around the block to see how he was with us without her around. He walked well on a leash, though he seemed a little nervous. I remember he was startled by a fire hydrant that we walked past. It seemed that it was just something new he hadn't seen before, but he was brave enough and trusting in us all ready to get past that crazy thing. By the time we were ready to go, Kevin was writing a check as a deposit. The meeting happened on a Tuesday. By Thursday, she would be bringing him to our home to become a part of our family. But there were still a few questions. We were leaving Friday for a trip to the Sierra foothills. We were concerned about how he would do, after only being with us one day before heading out on the road for a four-day weekend. Would he be able to adjust to this upheaval with people he just met? And would we be able to handle this precocious pup? We were going to be staying with nearly a dozen people. How would he behave around that many strangers? And the biggest question of all....

what were we going to name him?

All kinds of changes going on

It took me only a few months to get settled in San Jose, but I immediately recognized a huge void. Dogs are welcome practically everywhere in this area, even the store I worked at. It was so difficult to see happy, wagging tails walking in the aisles and know that none of them were following me; however, I knew, just as I had known in Florida, that my lifestyle was just not conducive to the demands of a canine companion. For one thing, my roommate didn't like dogs, an opinion I have never understood. She claimed, and I've heard this from others, that they are stupid animals. Oh just you wait. I will easily disprove that belief in later entries. And I still spent too much time away from home, working nearly 40 hours a week.

Life went on and so did I. The years passed and I moved out on my own, but I still didn't think it was fair to ask such a devoted creature to wait for me to have the time for them. I knew that things would have to change in my life before that decision could be broached. Ironically, the one change I had not seen probable would be the one that made everything possible. I hadn't been in a relationship for a long time and had become comfortable and quite happy with being alone. I was secure in the belief that it was just me and would only be just me. Then Kevin came along and turned everything upside down. And I will be forever grateful for that. Our love is based on many things, one of the strongest being our mutual love of nature and the beasts that inhabit it. When we moved in together, he shared an open door relationship with a fuzzy, grey cat whose name was somewhat of a mystery. What we most often called him was Meowzebob, or more easily just Bob. Bob would come and go through a kitty door, often coming in at night when it was cold out. We would be watching tv and hear the welcoming flap as he walked through, voicing a pleasant feline answer to our hellos. Unfortunately, the life of a quasi-wild cat is a tough one and Bob had lived quite a long time before I came into his life. Not too long after Kevin welcomed me into his home, that wonderful flapping sound came to an end.

Kevin had a love for dogs as well, but was still getting over the loss of his best friend and companion, Springy. It wasn't too long before he started mentioning the idea of adding to our family. I was elated. Finally! There were certain criteria that Kevin had and I graciously deferred to his judgement. I wasn't too particular, finding nearly every dog one that I would love to love. We both agreed we wanted a rescue dog. Springy was a cattle dog mix and Kevin really loved his temperament and level of intelligence. That's right, naysayers, some dogs are quite smart and herding breeds are reputably some of the smartest dogs around. One more slightly odd (or so I thought) requirement for Kevin was a lack of tail. Springy didn't have one and Kevin grew to like the lack of accidents often caused by that appendage. Again, I didn't care. I just wanted a dog.

 After an extensive search of several different rescues, he came across a picture that just tugged at his heart. "I think I've found the one."

Move West, Young Woman

After Gizmo’s death, things grew increasingly colder in my relationship. I hate to think he and Tiki were the only things holding us together, but when she passed away a little while after, I knew it was true. Looking back with completely open eyes, I know our time together would not have lasted as long if we didn’t have those two, sweet souls living with us. I know Gizmo’s death hit him hard. I had to convince him that it was time to let go when we did. I loved that sweet, old pooch so much, but I couldn’t bear to see him waste away anymore and I finally put my foot down and demanded that we help him leave this life with dignity. Euthanasia is never an easy choice; however, watching your devoted pet, who will try to last as long as they can only for you, lose their abilities and slowly become a shell of the noble and wonderful being they once were is selfish, in my opinion. My boyfriend didn’t believe in ending a pet’s life and I had to convince him that he was only thinking of himself and not of what was best for Gizmo. I think he resented me for doing that, yet I also think he knew I was right. At eighteen, Gizmo would never regain the energy or vitality he once had. It was time to let go. And it was time for me to move on.

Not knowing what I would do next, I made a difficult decision and moved back to Michigan and in with my mother. And again, my life was surrounded by furry friends. My mother had two American Eskimos, Puffin & Kita. Fluffy, white balls of bark, they may have looked alike, but they had two very distinct personalities. Puffin, though smaller than Kita, was top dog. That’s not to say Kita was a pushover by any means, but when it came down to it she would defer to what Puffin wished. It was always fun to watch those two race around the house and out into the back yard.

After nearly a year and a half, my wanderlust kicked in and I felt I needed to do the one thing I had dreamed of doing for over three decades, move to California. I packed everything I could into my two-door Honda Civic and drove cross-country, keeping myself entertained and awake by singing songs from Hair and Jesus Christ Superstar at the top of my lungs. It wasn’t completely smooth sailing. At one point, as I drove across the vast wasteland (aka The Big Basin) of Northern Nevada, I began to cry and couldn’t stop for miles. It could have been the long stretch of endless highway in front of me, but I like to think it’s because I didn’t have the comfort of the canine variety sitting in the seat next to me. For that pleasure was still several years away.