Category: Dogs

The dog days

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 7 Comments

There was a smallish wake for Paulette in the neighborhood last night.

Our newest neighbors, Larry and Jill, popped round to tell us of it. They occupy a pivotal corner, the Block of Gibraltar, which overlooks a vast expanse of the ’hood, and being excellent people they are already hip-deep in the goings-on. So we stayed up a bit past our bedtime telling tall tales and sipping champagne in Paulette’s honor.

This morning we were a bit sluggish for some reason, and I skipped my daily ride in favor of a stroll around the neighborhood, which used to be Paulette’s job. She and Bob the chocolate Lab would patrol up and down, east and west, north and south, collecting valuable intelligence in the service of us all.

And a dog helps. Herself learned that today, while walking Buddy (yes, he has officially been christened). Folks notice a dog-walker, especially if they happen to be walking a dog themselves, and stop to chat.

What degree of a dog is that? We’ve not seen you before … oh, wait a minute, you’re the folks on the alley, next to Mike! We thought you were cat people. And you are? How on earth does everyone get along? And so on and so forth.

This has always been a close neighborhood, but it got a little bit closer yesterday. Why, I saw Democrats and Republicans drinking and joking together, and you just know that’s no bullshit, because I’m a professional journalist.

Every dog has his day

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 29 Comments
The dog formerly known as Sweetpea
Oh, sure, yeah, right, now he sleeps. ...

Chapeau to Cadel Evans for finally making it onto the top step of the podium in Paris. He was not spectacular, but he was as strong as an onion-and-horseradish sandwich in a very tough Tour, and when it got down to the leg-breaking he was serving up pain by the plateful.

Things got a bit hectic around here the past few days. I made a quick trip to Boulder on Friday to say adieu to Ben Delaney, who stepped down as editor in chief of VeloNews. Then yesterday it was back to the VeloBarrel for the time trial that saw Cuddles clock the Schleck sisters.

And finally Herself decided that Chez Dog required an actual dog, so we paid a visit to the Humane Society of the Pikes Peak Region, where she volunteers a couple days a week, and bailed out a 6-year-old Japanese Chin she’d had her eye on.

The shelter people were calling him Sweetpea, and I was calling him Motherfucker when he woke us up at 4 a.m. today, but at the moment he remains nameless, though I’m leaning casually toward Buddy — an anglicization of Budai, the laughing Buddha — because the Japanese Chin appears to be smiling all the time.

When they’re awake, anyway. I think I’ll sneak back into the kitchen and wake the sonofabitch up, see if he’s grinning when I give him a taste of the old cowbell.

A time to be born, a time to die

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 3 Comments
Josie parking it in the park.
Josie parking it in the park.

Happy birthday to Herself, who celebrates another lap around the sun today. I won’t tell you how many, as I wish to continue breathing in and out. I had hoped to give her something she’s wanted for more than a month now — a completely restored basement office and bathroom — but the mitigation gods did not smile upon us. So we settled for a birthday breakfast at the Olive Branch downtown and will share a sparkling rosé tonight when she gets home from Denver.

We’ll raise at least one glass of that bubbly to Josie, a.k.a. JoJo, Demon Spawn, who until yesterday had been the last dog standing of the fabled German shepherd troika renowned throughout Santa Rosa, California, and beloved of Wes, Mary and Lo. Writes Lo:

Josie “JoJo” “Demon Spawn” died peacefully and without pain at home on Wednesday with Wes and Mary at her side.  She knew all along that you can make it a wonderful life.  Just the day before she was out walking with her Dad, and got to play in the creek. She loved the water so much! — like a moose — and she also loved her walks in the park.  She is the last of the (in)famous Santa Rosa German Shepherd trio, and she now has joined Darcy and Ritchey in the Big Beyond and also in Pet Cemetery at the Dog House, resting along with her blanket, toys and a stick. She left behind plenty of fur to keep us cleaning up after her, which she is certain to supervise from the Beyond — always happy to have her people cleaning up after her instead of leaving on their bikes. Best of all, Josie left us with the happiest of memories and a love for life and for us that will entertain and sustain us for the rest of our lives. Here’s to JoJo!

By all means, here’s to JoJo. Slainte! I’ve stood dry-eyed on the shore as many a human relative hung ten on the River Styx, but shed oceans of tears for four-legged family members — my own mutt Jojo, his daughter, Fuerte, our final dog, Bandit, and the famous Weirdcliffe felines Ike and Tina Turdherder.

This being March and St. Patrick’s Day so near, I’ll reference an Irish short story I’ve always loved: “Requiem,” by Frank O’Connor. It’s about a woman who asks a priest to say Mass for her departed poodle, Timmy. The priest, though touched, refused, saying Timmy had no need of the Mass because he could not incur guilt.

The woman took the priest to task, saying, “I’m as good a Catholic as the next, but I’d say it to the Pope himself this minute if he walked into this room. They have souls, and people are only deluding themselves about it. Anything that can love has a soul. … And I know as I’m standing here that somewhere or other I’ll see him again.”