A Girlie Dog

Yes, that's Lil' Robin falling through time and space in her (wildest) dreams! And a fine time for a (very unscientific) exploration of sex differences in girls and boy dogs. Your actual experiences may differ*; but a year in on harboring a female dog and I can assure you there are some differences.
I consider myself a card-carrying feminist, so I don't believe in dressing my dog up in pink bows or silly sweaters with tutus stitched to the bottom or talk more (or less) "baby talk" to her... (Oh please! Talking baby talk to the dog just happens!) I guess what I'm trying to say is that I believe myself to be somewhat unbiased. Background-wise I have had more males than females: Woofie, Archie, Charlie (for like a two weeks, poor thing!), Frank the Dog and Jules as opposed to only Ricky and now Robin in the girl department.*
First, I do subscribe to the basic premise that it has more to do with how you raise/nurture/handle the dog than some inherent traits, but I do observe some temperament variations. The boy dogs seem easy going in a funny way; not "goofy" as I've read other dog people describe it, just more relaxed and ready to have fun. My two girls seem to "worry" more; Robin suffers from a bit of separation anxiety and this could be (and is!) breed-related, but it fits with Ricky who nearly lost her marbles when we boarded her once. If you gave Ricky a biscuit, she would wander miserably around the house, moaning to herself (I think she was searching for her abandoned mother dog and her eleven siblings.) Very pathetic!
I think they're more naturally protective, too. Robin barks when people come to the house and is not as welcoming to men that enter. And she is definitely more guarded and more suspicious of people and dogs on our morning walks. Jules (and Archie and Woofie) used to love everybody. It's interesting that neighbors remark on this to me and I respond, "They're different dogs!" Perhaps more of this is personality than sex...
Robin also is more measured in her affections. She is extraordinarily affectionate, but when she's done, she makes it clear and moves on. She seems discerning (but this could be that she is a Sagittarius, like Frank the Dog with whom she seems to share other character traits. Yeesh! Has anyone out there studied Astrological Signs in dogs?!?!?!)
Funny enough, I think Robin is more rough and tumble in play. Boy, she's ferocious with the sticks and balls outside- she'll caroom around the yard at a million miles an hour and then POW! body slam you when she runs your way. Very physical, although she's also incredibly willowy and graceful. (Remember, she has high cheekbones and very long legs and is slim and I call her my Supermodel.) And then she prances across the yard and poses. She also sulks, pouts and preens. It occurs to me that she's more outwardly feminine than I'll ever be- that's a strange thing to ponder!

(Robin, rearranging the cosmic furniture.)
Our next door neighbor likes to comment that girl dogs are much smarter than males. Granted, the dog they have now is denser than a door knob (they'll be the first to admit it!) but all of my males have been smart. But I think that that's the single most important attribute I look for in any dog, regardless of make, model or year... or color or gender or size. (Although I do tend towards the mid-sized, silky coated, wavy pendulous eared setter/spaniel/retriever end of the canine spectrum and have never been drawn to terrier/hound/pit bull or herding types.
This is only a years worth of evidence and based on more boys than girls so check back in with me. But Lil' Robin keeps surprising me with her opinions on things and you can definitely see the gears moving between her (silky) ears!

*Let me know your experiences.
*And I'm not weighing in on the intact vs spay/neutered controversy- yet! There are definite differences along with politics. My dogs have all been "factory equipped" so to speak- with no weird or undesirable side effects. Don't get me started...

The Week of Smelling Badly

 Every where we turned last week, things stunk. Bob bought a sweater at a second hand store; a nice blue color, in good shape. But when he brought it home and washed it, it smelled like someone's terribly clinging cologne. It seems the washing re-activated the smell. He hung it up in the down stairs bathroom to dry and the whole downstairs started to smell. Bob moved it outside, to the clothes line in the fresh air.
The sweater has been joined by a used LL Bean jacket that Bob bought at another second hand store. This one smelled heavily of some sort of commercial detergent or sanitizer that they used. Bob hung it outside and standing downwind, you could still detect it. Pretty powerful stuff! It should also be mentioned that a helpful posting on the Internet suggested that clothes inhabited by a persistent smell be spritzed with vodka (!) so Bob hastened to our local package store and has doused his sweater and jacket in an invigorating cocktail. 
It therefore seems appropriate that a skunk visited on Friday morning. That temporarily erased the smell of the clothing but it was not an improvement.The skunk was probably drawn to the happy hour featuring vodka-drenched outerwear.
Also this week, we had an unfortunate experience in the check out line on Wednesday when a woman in front of us (who my mother would have described as having "a big behind") let loose with a very ripe episode of flatulence. (Hey! I'm being polite here.) We were all nicely tucked up next to her, trapped between impulse buy Slim Jims and trashy tabloids. No where to run! And wouldn't you know, we met up with her again at the bakery.
If this weren't enough for one week, we purchased balloons (pictured above) to decorate for my sister Beatrice's birthday. We're so glad we selected the fun polka dot ones because the minute I opened the package, the house was immediately filled with a dreadful petroleum reek. An hour after tying them in a festive fashion around the living room, we banished them to the outdoors. You could still see them from inside the house but we weren't in danger of being poisoned.

Windy City

I thought it would be well, not fun exactly, but diverting (maybe?) to extol the power of Nature instead of railing against our democracy's current state of decay. I hope this diverts me at least briefly...
When I arrived home today, Bob announced that one of sketchy, half dead spruces had been blown over. It was that kind of windy day. Unfortunately, all the trees in a line between the vegetable garden and the house are weak and getting ready to join this one. I LIKE those spare and ghostly trees; they add an odd "Californian" aspect to our place. I guess I'm referencing pictures I've seen of Joshua Tree and other western landscapes. So I'm sorry to see them go, even if they are at the end of their natural lives. The wind is still whipping like mad, now, late at night and I'm dreading having to take Robin out to pee. It's also cold!

They really are long, tall trees! Bob said he was in the house when the tree blew down, but didn't hear a thing- probably because the wind was/is pretty noisy and the snow may have muffled the sound of it toppling over. Amazingly enough, not only did it not hit the house, it also managed to miss the garden or anything else vaguely in its path like the picnic table or one of us!

And here's the requisite picture of Robin for those that requested it. She looked lovely in the split second before I took this picture but (of course) moved and all I got was her butt and tail in motion. Robin is the only one of us not entirely sick of all the snow...

Executive Orders

(This picture was taken by my co-worker Antony. While we did not assemble the above tableau, we definitely appreciated it! Some fun can still be had a work but that's another story...)
In light of various inexplicable facts- like the Unpresidented Occupation of The White House- I have decided to take matters into my own small (but square and capable hands)  and declare myself Queen. Therefore it is now within my purview to issue Executive Orders. The following shall take effect immediately (and this is just a partial list for my first few days in office):
1.) Universal health care will be available to everyone. The same insurance currently given to members of Congress- including dental and vision- will be provided for all. For life. No high (or low) deductibles, no cost for drugs. All inclusive. You're welcome!
2.) A Department of Climate Change will be instituted and begin work to reverse the effects of Climate Change. There will be no arguing against scientific facts. We will go solar, embrace wind and all other renewables. The world will thank us.
3.) There will be a new Department of Women's Issues. The Equal Rights Amendment will be implemented post haste and women will be paid- and treated- fairly. Hell, maybe I'll just make a Department of Humanity and make sure everyone: women, LGBTQ, people of color, people with disabilities, everyone- even men!- gets treated fairly.
4.) The minimum wage will be raised to $20 an hour and we all get a month off work- with pay- every year. Corporate heads will now receive pay no more than 20 times the minimum wage and they will receive two weeks off with no pay. (And I don't want to hear any whining. The working people already put up with plenty!)
5.) Corporations and banks will work hard to reward their consumers- and NOT their shareholders. (Maybe I'll just do away with the stock market; I haven't gotten that far!)
6.) People with pets or domestic animals will get a significant tax break. (And I am debating whether this includes the keeping of exotic pets, like tarantulas and snakes. There's something weird about keeping non-fluffy animals. Maybe it's just me).
7.) People who garden- whether edible or ornamental- will get a tax break.
8.) All artists shall be given free and spacious, well-appointed studio (or practice) spaces.
9.) All artists (if unable to support themselves on their art work) shall be provided jobs that require no more than three days a week and afford sufficient financial remuneration.
10.) There will be a Department of Peace. Instead of wasting all of our time producing awful engines of destruction that kill and maim, we will produce more stereo equipment and we all dance and have fun together.
It sounds like I have an ambitious agenda for my first few days in office, so let's get to work. And if any one has any good ideas, please share them. All good ideas will be considered!

Building A Wall

I realize that the title of this post seems to refer to a notorious project that is being trumpeted about by a recent occupier of the White House (that will cost billions and accomplish nothing other than to make many people's lives worse than they already are...). But in this instance, the title refers to various barricades that Bob and I now live with as a matter of course. These demi-walls are set up to temporarily block a certain young dog access to rooms in our house.(Hi Robin!)

As we all fondly remember, Lil' Robin the Good refused to be confined when she was a mere pup. She scaled barriers of every description and height, perhaps employing magical powers, as she seemed to miraculously appear on the other side of whatever wall was erected. It was impressive. We finally relented, and gave her the run of the house and so far we have suffered no disastrous consequence, excepting Robin's consumption (with no ill effect) of several pairs of reading glasses, sun glasses and Bob's prescription glasses and a passel of pens.
However, when we're not present, we do restrict her access to a few rooms with these temporary barriers. Inexplicably, these pieces of plywood and fiberboard work where more serious blockades never did. And you may ask, why not just close the doors to these rooms? Because Lil' Robin doesn't like closed doors and will scratch and whine vigorously until the door is opened.

My studio, the bedroom and the "office" are all off limits as they are beyond impossible to secure from her idiosyncratic quest for things to chew. (I call it "shopping": she cases a room, checking out all nose-height surfaces.) Robin seems content to roam the rest of the house, and in general, we have been lucky that furniture has been spared. And Robin was a pretty quick study in the house training department; we really didn't experience many "accidents" of the liquids and solids variety.

And look! There's Lil' Robin now, with an entertaining assortment of her preferred chewables: empty seltzer bottles and plastic perennial pots, with the occasional foray into more traditional things like balls. And below? The Magic Robin! (Looks sort of like she's saying "Who me? I didn't eat that!")

Seige at the Tower

Look! There we are in the middle of that amazing crowd! It was easily the largest- and nicest!- crowd I have ever been in in my life. People were so energized and they focused their anger and outrage so peacefully and positively. It was a really hopeful and life changing event to be part of. (And this is only NYC!!! The world was here and there and everywhere!)
The train we rode into NYC was full of protesters and at every stop, women wearing pink knit Pussy Hats got on... and everyone clapped and cheered. At Grand Central, Bob and I (and our friend Joe) met up with good friends Bob and Susan and Sheldon and Louise and Roberta. I'm sure that being with close friends heightened the experience, but everyone in that crowd felt like good friends. It was truly incredible!
There were signs and chants and all the trappings that one would expect. But everyone seemed to be in the best of spirits. This many people organizing to Just Say NO to The Orange Menace. We stood and watched the March, which outside Grand Central was barely moving but so enthused. We attempted to make our way to the March start near the United Nations but gave up as there were so many people you couldn't get within blocks of it. So we jumped right in and were swallowed by the crowd. It was... amazing! And this comes from a woman (yours truly) who is not overly fond of crowds and tends to be claustrophobic!

(These pictures were taken from screen shots on our computer, after we got home.) It was so exhilarating (have I said that already in any of twenty different ways?) even if they didn't allow us right up to the door of Trump Tower. At the sort of end of the March, we were diverted left or right a block before the actual Trump Tower address; I guess security had to be tight, even if The Orange Menace wasn't in residence. We only passed two people who we took to be republicans, trying to scurry home to their rat-infested luxury hi rise. They were going the wrong way, against the March- a fitting metaphor. They're on the wrong side of history!
After the March, we walked up to the Met Breuer (the former Whitney Museum) and had a well-deserved cup of coffee. Bob and I were smart to only drink a teeny tiny cup of morning coffee (so as to not have to pee every three minutes with nary a porta-potty in sight!) but boy, was I craving my full quota of caffeine! Newly refreshed, we took in the Kerry James Marshall show. He is a truly wonderful and endlessly inventive painter. He pushes new life into very narrative pictures. A great show and a perfect way to end the day.
Estimates of the number of people on the streets of NYC were somewhere between 200,000 and 400,000. I can honestly say I know there were more people there than at that scary inauguration! We came home, feeling hopeful for the first time in months...

Catching Up With Maggie

I have been told by Maggie that I am ignoring her fan club and haven't posted about her in quite a while. Well, there she is, in all her resplendent glory outfitted in her new rain coat; quite fashionable- and functional!
I am not an inveterate blanketer of horses: their heavy winter coats offer plenty of protection and there are independent studies that show that their coats can stand up or lay flatter to provide insulation and warmth. But when it gets really cold (we had minus 2 last week) I bundle Maggie up in a heavy jacket that I've had for years (Crispin wore the same winter blanket) and I know Maggie appreciates the extra warmth.
And Maggie is a girl who likes to stand around outside when it sleets and snows. She gets all wet and if the temperature drops, I worry that she'll get sick. She's not a young horse and while I realize it's probably my projection of how I'd feel in the wet and cold, I purchased the above rain protection for her. I think she likes it.
(And I will amend that  the act of purchasing a horse rain sheet is not as simple as it sounds. There are many brands and styles (not to mention "novelty" colors and patterns, like peace signs and breast cancer awareness and zebra stripes and Burberry plaid: haute couture for the horse!) and you have to measure your beast carefully so that you achieve a proper fit. It was nerve wracking somewhat expensive (believe me: you can spend hundreds of dollars) and you want it to be just right. Does she look okay? Does it make her butt look big? If you see Maggie, just tell her it looks fabulous!)
I would also like to offer a wee rant about how this is not the easiest weather to care for our four-footed friends. The cold and dark at 6:00 or 7:00 am is atrocious but I feel the need to run out and feed Maggie as she's been standing around in the elements all by herself. She's got to be at least a little hungry and miserable! The food is the easy part.
The water is the worst! Dreadfully early in the morning, I schlepp two (heavy) plastic pails of water, filled at the kitchen sink. (No hose or outside faucet in the cold weather.) These buckets are to be emptied into the two buckets in Maggie's activity area. One is inside the stall, next to the hay rack; the other is outside, clipped onto the fence so that she can't knock it over. (She tries anyway...) Both of these outdoor buckets are frozen solid- I mean SOLID. I wrestle one free from the hook, drag it outside the fence and pound the ice with a metal fence post, reserved just for this occasion, and stamp on the side to further smash the ice. (The other day, Bob had to use a sledge hammer as it was so cold and so frozen I couldn't get the ice to budge.)

The other fun thing to throw into the mix is that Maggie likes to take a sip of water while consuming her hay. Many horses do this, but I can tell you that it makes a nasty, noxious green "soup" in her water bucket as the hay festers in the water along with a goodly dose of horsey saliva. Boy oh boy does it stink on a warm day! In the cold weather, the hay freezes into the ice like so much fiberglass reinforcement and makes getting the ice out of the bucket even harder. And you haven't lived until you chop a hole in the ice and the slushy, slurpy demi-ice sloshes back up out of the bucket and onto your pants or down you boot! Hooray for winter!