Nicole Tasker Woods

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Ryan and I split house cleaning duties. He vacuums the carpet and mops the floors (something I totally dread) and I clean the bathrooms. When it comes to the vacuum, Cali (as do most dogs) is frightened to death of the look of it before it is even turned on. One time I vacuumed upstairs while she hung out downstairs and found her in the sink with the stove gas clicking on, but not lighting. She had jumped up there to hide and in the process, she hit the switch for the stove. So now when it comes to vacuuming, Ryan does it while I take Cali out for a long walk or to the dog park.

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I like to think that Cali says that to herself when it is just me and her in the house or when we spend the day together. Ryan is in San Francisco on business the rest of this week so it is just the puppy and me curled up in a queen sized bed of fluffy sheets and feather pillows. Instead of Cali laying at my feet (or rather, on my feet) like she does every other night, she curled up next to me last night, her head on Ryan’s pillow. I like waking up in the middle of the night and pulling her close to spoon. She does not groan or sigh, just settles in for a good cuddle.

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I had last Thursday off of work before the Friday July 4th holiday so I took Cali to the beach in Oxnard that day. I had never actually gone to the beach in California in full on beach mode—bathing suit, suntan lotion, etc. I had walked on the beach a time or two in Santa Monica, but since I have moved here, there have been no beach day adventures. My mom used to say to me and my brothers when we were little that we were going on an ‘excellent adventure’ whenever we were in the car heading somewhere. Whether it was some new and exciting place, or just the hardware store down the street…it was always an excellent adventure.

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As Cali grows older, she is more fun to hang with. These days, she is like a young adult, despite acting like a baby most of the time. Now, do not get me wrong, I loved her immensely as a young puppy when we first got her, but the amount of character that she displays these days, after learning how to live in the same house as us has been a real treat.

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On Tuesday after work, Cali and I went for our regular walk. I have been trying to overcome my fear of the ivy where the last slithering creature was hiding. I started by walking on that side of the road, but my eyes frantically darted from flower to rock to piece of trash hiding in the shrubbery. So far, so good. I continued to walk down the road then took a sharp left onto the service road that is gated off and usually has a mixture of Cal-Lutheran students jogging, mothers pushing strollers and random men and women walking their dogs. Recently, the tall grasses that lined the edges of this road have been weed-whacked down to the dirt. This is good for me because I can see everything that is going on and this keeps Cali (and let’s face it, myself) safe from Anaconda 3 that is just waiting to leap out from the bushes and attack me.

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Mondays are busy for me at work so I thought I would post a picture instead of nothing at all…

The rain started to fall and I could hear it pit-patter on my doorstep around 9:00pm last night. I sat cuddled up with Cali’s head in my lap and Grammy’s afghan wrapped around us on the couch while we watched TV. The thought of going outside was chilling. An hour later, Cali got up from my lap and sat down underneath her leash & collar that hang on one of the dining room chairs by the door. That was the signal. I put on shoes, a sweatshirt with the hood tied tight and opened an umbrella over my head. The first step out the door was wet and I quickly discovered that every inch of the ground was going to be covered in snails. When the rain falls at night and moisture fills the air, out come the snails. It was like a mine field. Cali was less cautious, but I could not help but guide her between all the shiny shells to keep her paws from crushing them. We spent about 20 minutes outside, in the misty air, weaving around snails dotted on the cement walkways, asphalt driveways, ivy-covered corners and even the wood-chipped rose garden. I hate creepy-crawlies, like lizards and snakes…tack snails on that list too.

In the mornings, she fancies
A brisk walk in the ivy, low to the ground.
Her footprints staying hidden by the carpeted mat
As she daintily chooses each step.
She then sniffs along a cement path that curves
Around front stoops to a fence in the back…
Where she can see everything going on down below.
The path along the fence opens up to a cul-de-sac
That she crosses in a graceful trot.
She hops over rubber plants and carefully
Enters the forbidden rose garden
That is filled with dew-soaked, yet fragrant pink pedals.
As she weaves between the flowery bushes
She warily avoids thorny branches and combs the woodchips
With her snout to discover an unknown scent.

In the afternoons, she is game for a three mile trot
That stretches her legs and fills her tummy
With an abundance of fresh air.
As she walks down the street,
On sidewalks and bike lanes,
Her head is tilted up to the cement walls:
Her ears smooth back into Full-Stealth-Mode
As she becomes a cunning con contemplating
A leap to the other side.
So light on her feet, she slips past houses
With dogs in backyards and none of them the wiser.
She dislikes pine needles immensely
And prefers a jagged weave around each pile
To prevent crunching them with her matted paws.
One wrong step and her lovely gait
Transforms into a three-legged hobble
As her foot is stung by a thorn hiding amongst needles.

In the evenings, she wrestles, nipping fingers,
Swinging rope-toy, looking for constant attention.
Get her riled up and the crazy-switch
Clicks –ON– scoot – scoot – scoot
Upstairs,
Downstairs,
On couches and coffee tables, from bed to bed,
Then on the floor with tail straight in the air
And paws stretched out in front as she is ready-to-pounce.
Her tongue hangs out of her mouth and to the side,
With eyes wild and waiting for you to make the next move.

After dinner, she lounges on couches
Resembling nothing at all that is disastrous or destructive.
While lying on her back, tucked in between
Cushions and pillows, she drifts off to sleep
With paws dangling above her and toes fluttering…
The product of puppy dreams.

Copyright © 2008 N.E. Tasker

I got home from work at 5:15 last night. These days that means the sun has not quite set and it is still warm enough for a stroll. I fit the red harness on the bouncing Basenji, hooked on her leash and off we went. There are a few routes we take, but today I wanted to head to the private, fenced-in soccer field that is about a half mile from my house. It is a practice field used by Cal-Lutheran University, which sits right next to our housing complex. I have been able to slip inside the gate a few times this past week because the pad-lock has just been hanging on the chain, unlocked, almost asking to be opened. Cali gets excited as we approach this field and starts to pull on the leash the minute she realizes we are heading in that direction. This is the one place (other than the public dog-park) that she can be unleashed to run free like a wild animal.

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