Giving Thanks, Year 5

Well folks, we’ve had a long year here at PB&C.  We fell off our posting but picked up an instagram (@zozobeanfinley), but it’s just not the same.  We can do better.

Of all our posts over our years blogging, our Thanksgiving posts are our favorite (1,2,3,4)  It feels good to give back, especially after you’ve given so much love, enthusiasm and encouragement to us.  We weren’t going to drop the ball on this.  And Mother Nature really demanded it.

Beginning November 8th, three California wildfires caused massive destruction, injury and heartbreak; the most destructive season on record in California.  Over 10,000 pets have been displaced by the fire, and the impact to other animals and wildlife is as yet untold (but devastating).

This year, we’re making three donations.  All three organizations are taking in displaced, evacuated animals.  They’re working to reunite families who were separated from their pets.  They’re providing emergency veterinary care to wildlife.  They’re making room where room is not available, working around the clock.  Will my contribution make a big impact?  Absolutely not, but we’re definitely in “every little bit helps” territory.

Humane Society of Ventura County

Los Angeles County Animal Care Foundation

Pasadena Humane Society & SPCA

Here’s what I know: there are plenty of local rescues and shelters in and around Malibu that could use your help.  I picked these three because their resources cast the widest net in terms of services provided.  I speak with no authority that these are the right choices for everyone, but they’re the right ones for us.  If you consider donating, I know you’ll pick a deserving individual (so many gofundmes right now), organization or foundation that’s best for you.

I hope that you and yours are having a warm and wonderful holiday season.  Take care of each other, and give thanks for what you’ve got.  We’re certainly thankful for you.

XO,

Team PB&C

Who doesn’t like new things?

March 2018

Two years ago, we bought a new mattress.  It was an ordeal, trying to determine fill, firmness, pillow-top or not, size, etc.  Although the weekend spent reclining around mattress showrooms was both entertaining and creepy.

This year, we were in the market for a new mattress, but for the grumpy old man who lives with us. Same ordeal, less test-driving: what fill, level of support or cushion, to bolster/bumper or not to bolster/bumper, etc.  After much looking (an Orvis isn’t in the budget right now), we settled on the PupLounge Memory Foam Orthopaedic Bed from Treat A Dog.

 

What we like:

• The Tempurpedic foam holds its shape, which is good for Zo’s aging joints
• It doesn’t slip cross the floor
• It’s waterproof and tear-proof, and machine washable.
• The price point: we bought this on a steep mark down (60% off and free shipping).  If it had been original ticket price, I may be less enthusiastic.  It feels like it’s more durable and better craftsmanship than something you can snag at a local, big box pet store.

What we less-than-like:

• As the video mentions, we bought based on his weight.  I suppose I could have pulled out a tape measure to confirm the dimensions, but I assumed (I know, I know) that a bed for an 80 pound dog would be proportional in size to weight.  That’s on me. Next time, we’ll go for the extra large bed.
• The sound of his nails on the cover is irritating, but that’s a #dogmomproblem more than anything.

 

So far, so good.

Barkselona

February 2018

James and I had the opportunity to travel to Barcelona, Spain with Atlas Obscura. It was a magnificent, once-in-a-lifetime trip.  As with any humans-only trip we take, we miss Zozo, who was on his own adventure first on a mountain and then at our usual boarding spot.

What we didn’t know about Barcelona was just how dog friendly a city it is.  Dogs on the subway.   Dogs in (some) stores.  Off leash.  On leash.  In arms.  Wearing sweaters.  This town is Dog Friendly.  A good quarter of the 600 pictures we took are some pups out and about.  Here are a few of our favorites!

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Wordless Wednesday: one trip, two stops!

Negotiations

December 20, 2017

or literally any day after 3pm

 

 

 

Giving Thanks, Year 4

November 23, 2017

Year 1, we asked you to click.

Year 2, we asked you to share.

Year 3, we asked you to pay it forward.

This year… well, 2017 has been tumultuous in so many ways.  Just getting up and going to work has been tough when it feels like the world is falling apart.  At work, we’re having to “do more with less.”  Sometimes you have to find something to brighten your day.

Meet Eddie.

Eddie is a handsome, golden 8-year old.  He snores and he sheds and he gives slobbery kisses.  He goes on walkabout when his person is attending a “no dogs allowed” meeting and he gets bored.  He’s sweet.  He’s the most popular being at the office.  You see his face and it just makes you feel happy.

Eddie has a very important job as a guide dog for Q (not his real initial).  They are world travelers, happy hour partakers, and together they’re living their best bachelor lives.  They’ve been together for 6 years.  Q says it’s maybe taken that long for them to really get used to each other.

[Let me be clear: I understand what is or is not appropriate behavior between service animals and not-their-people.  I have read enough stories online about people distracting service animals and tragedy striking.  There are boundaries, and I respect them.  Everyone at work respects them, and we asked Q how we should or should not acknowledge Eddie when they joined our office.  I also asked Q’s permission before taking these pictures of Eddie.]

At 8, Eddie is starting to slow down.  His walking pace isn’t what it used to be, and he’s stopping for rests at times that may not be convenient or safe for he and Q.  Eddie is otherwise in good health, but he’s aging, like the rest of us.  In late September, a rumor went around the office that Q would be retiring Eddie and getting another service animal.

All hell broke loose, and that’s not an exaggeration.  There were shushed hallway conversations.  People asked Q what his plans were, what Eddie’s plans were.  Q wants Eddie to be able to be a dog in his twilight years.  No fewer than five coworkers offered to adopt Eddie when the time came (I was one of them).  Q is Eddie’s entire life.  Would he understand?

Yesterday was Eddie’s last day at the office.  He’s spending the holiday at a friend’s house and then heading off to his new home with X (also not his real initial).  I stopped in to see Q today, because he leaves right after the holiday to meet his new guide.  He’s nervous and excited.  I asked how he’s feeling about letting Eddie go.  The good news is that Eddie will be living with a family that are good friends with Q.  They’ll see each other.  He’ll get updates.  Q’s looking forward to meeting his new guide dog, but there’s so much that needs to happen as they bond and adapt to each other; it’s going to be a busy December for them. I cried a little when I said bye to Eddie, getting one final sloppy kiss that left a slime trail on my sweater (worth it).

While Q adapts to life with a new guide dog, Eddie is beginning a transition to civilian life.  He’s going to be living with a family with small children.  He’s got a yard and extra room in a house.  But he won’t be hopping a plane for a jiu-jitsu tournament or heading down to a local pub for a young professional’s meet up.  Not often, anyway.  Suburban life awaits him.

We wanted to do something for Eddie, because he deserves to be rewarded for doing his job so well for so long, and to celebrate this transition to retirement.

This year, we’re happy to give Eddie a 6-month subscription to BarkBox.  Zozo loves his BarkBox and seems to know that the blue and tan box is for him when it appears on our porch each month.  The treats are good quality and the toys are fantastic and durable.  Our hope is that Eddie will enjoy these special deliveries, too, that are just for him.

things i “barked at”* this weekend, by zozo

*they say “barked at”; i say “defended them from.”  we apparently have to agree to disagree.  (i’m right).

SATURDAY:

-momma leaving for class

-the mailman

-dad leaving for work

-momma unlocking the door

-the mailman

-mums’ arrival

-momma and mums leaving for the store

-momma and mums returning from the store

-the neighbors

-the neighbor boy’s friends

-nothing

-the gate swinging in the wind

-dad coming home from work

 

SUNDAY:

-birds in the yard

-momma going out for coffee

-momma coming home with coffee

-mo’s car

-mo

-mo’s shoes

-momma and daddy leaving

-nothing

-nothing again

-dad walking up the stairs

-dinner

-dad leaving for a meeting

-bubbles in the tub

-the neighbor dog out for a walk

-dad coming home from his meeting

 

I SAVED THEM!

In the neighborhood, in the neigh-bor-hood!

March 2017

About a year ago, I started running.  Voluntarily, with nothing chasing me.  I bought good sneakers that fit my orthotics (my knees have history) and a Wind Breaker and a little belt in which to keep my phone for music.  I used the Couch To 5K app to help me get started. If you were around my neighborhood, you’d see me jogging and walking and jogging and walking and huffing and puffing three days a week.  I did it for exercise and to help prepare for a musical I was in last summer.

(To be clear, I tried to take Zozo with me.  He wasn’t having it.  It could be I was too slow or he was too interested in pooping when there were no cans around.  Either way, opportunity lost.)

I hate running.  I struggle with it, but I keep at it.  I like the fresh air.  I like reporting back on homes for sale or new lawn decorations.  But mostly, I like that I get a chance to see neighborhood dogs.

Bradley is a handsome Sheltie who trots his dad along.  When he sees you, no matter how far off, he sits and waits.  His dad waits, too.  You may not pass Bradley without petting him, for he will follow you until you pet him.  Sometimes coming and going, I get some Bradley love.  Bradley’s dad gets a lot of interrupted walks.

Ariel is a German Shepherd with the largest ears I’ve ever seen.  She moved into a house as a puppy, and it’s been amazing to watch her grow into her feet.  Her eyes are amber. When her dad walks her to the local middle school to collect her human siblings, she’s off-leash, focused and disinterested in sharing the sidewalk.  Disciplined. So disciplined.

There’s a dog– sometimes two– that live in a house one street over.  I refer to this dog as Evil Dog.  I think his name is Storm.  I’m not sure.  He’s a fence charger and a jail-breaker.  From out of no where, he’ll come charging the fence, barking at passers-by, not at all phased by the beeping of the electric fence collar his owners have on him for extra restraint.  Maybe I’m being unkind– I suspect he’s lonely, bored, or poorly socialized– but he scares me to death every. damn. run.  (One time he hopped the fence and walked to Home Depot.  He was found in the plumbing section.)

A Burmese Mountain Dog broke away from his tweenage companion and knocked me over, stood on my legs and licked my hair.  The crackle of a changing voice screaming “MOM”, “HELP” and “HE’S JUST A PUPPY” was heartbreaking.  When I realized I wasn’t being mauled to death, we all calmed down and had a giggle.  And then I cried the rest of the way home.  Run cut short.  (They have a fence now.)

The long-haired Chihuahua.  This little thing, wearing a bedazzled orange harness, came running yap-yap-yap out of an open garage and chased me down the street.  When I turned back to him, he put his tush down and hushed.  I walked towards him and he backed up, turned around and started towards home.  I resumed my run and he resumed his.  I picked up my pace and flipped a corner.  I have no idea where he went, but I hope it was home, along the sidewalk.

There’s a beagle who guards a neighbor’s chicken coop and generally hangs out in the middle of the street.  He’s a weirdo.  People just drive around him, or get out of their cars to shoo him home.

There’s an older Korean gentleman who walks his cat.  I want to make friends with him.

 

Report Card

January 16, 2017

I suppose I shouldn’t laugh?

Street Animals of Cuba

October 26-30, 2016

We went to Cuba.  It’s a magnificent and startling and complicated place.

Doodle went to camp for his own adventure.  We missed him, but we were lucky to have a house-dog.  Our casa, the large house in which we rented a room, has a wiggly boxer named Pike who is curious, sweet and extremely well-behaved.

He’d greet us in the morning and when we returned from the day’s excursions.  We brought in smells from America as well as places in the city he’d never visited.  We hadn’t expected to have a trip mascot, but he was a wonderful surprise.

Something else we didn’t expect– that we didn’t know to ask about in advance to emotionally prepare for– were amount of stray animals.  Because why would we?  How would we know that we’d see dogs and cats, puppies and kittens roaming around appearing generally well-fed but still showing the wear-and-tear of street living?

Some of them joined our tours for a stroll around a square and or exploring Hemingway’s Finca Vigia, vocally letting our guide know how much they liked her explanations.

In some places, dogs wear string collars with index-sized cards attached, like the pup perched on James’ lap.  The cards are handwritten and include the animal’s name.  They mean that someone feeds the dogs regularly.  These animals are still strays, but someone nearby looks out for them.

And yet, with so many animals in need of homes or stability, puppies are sold on the street, costing more than the annual salary of local doctors.

In Cuba, there is veterinary care.  There is a spay and neuter program through animal welfare groups to try to control the stray population.  There is no such thing as dog food:  domesticated animals like Pike eat whatever their humans eat.  Pike’s breakfast was an enormous portion of freshly cooked rice and boiled beans, and sometimes chicken.  Cubans who own pets or who take care of them share their monthly food rations with them.

Together, James and I took close to 400 pictures.  So many are of the animals that hang around public spaces solo or in packs, calmly approaching humans for food or affection or sniffs.  Sleeping.  Prowling.  Co-existing with the bustle of the city.

And no, we didn’t come home with a new furbaby.  We’d never have gotten out and they’d never have gotten in.  But like so much of our trip, they’re going to be with us as we process our experiences.