I’m going camping tomorrow. I’m packing the puppies and a boy and we’re driving two hours away to eleven acres of green complete with tiny electricity-less shack.
My book has been talking a lot to my brain lately. I recently reformed a few chapters and finally started to compile an ending. I’m looking forward to having the last week of June off to string more pieces together with shades of description and a new face here or there.
Yesterday I learned that in addition to the roof I ordinarily spend time on, I can actually access a second rooftop area that’s 44 stories up. I stood up there staring across Manhattan rooftops last night with the same feeling of, “Holy shit, I can’t believe I actually got myself set up here” feeling that doesn’t leave.
Still, my feet are itchy for something. Something that likely falls into the realm of holiday, book finishing, new plan scripting.
Blah blah blah… for now, all I am interested in is making smores tomorrow. I was quite surprised about my Australian family’s lack of awareness regarding smores – particularly when they have such spectacular barbecues.
I’m looking forward to standing beside a fire and infusing my body with smoky strips. I’ll probably eat a burnt veggie sausage off of a charred tree branch. Peanut and Franky will so happy. And I bet I see stars too. New York City has nearly everything I need, but lacks my one and only non-begotiable requirement aside from puppies…
Stars are critical.
When I was a little girl, and we would make our yearly New York City trip from the country, my eyes used to roll out of my head toward every dog I saw.
It was hard enough to accept that people actually lived in the expansive skyscraper jungle of Manhattan. Seeing people with dogs blew my mind. I grew up on acreage where neighborhood dogs roamed free. I couldn’t imagine a dog being in an apartment, particularly an apartment someplace like Fifth Avenue.
I was thinking this as I strolled up Eighth Avenue with the puppies this morning. The road I took to get back here got so bumpy at the end; I lost sight in some ways of what exactly I was swinging.
To widen my smile further, I wound up passing a woman around the age of my mother – standing in front of one of the hotels smoking her 6am cigarette. She beamed at the sight of Frankie and Peanut and greeted me with, “Look how good they are! They are CUTE!” And then she buried them in pats.
The lady reminded me of me as a kid. She made me realize that I grew into one of “those people” who once seemed like mythical creatures to me – people who not only live in midtown, they live there with dogs.
Frankie has brought a unique joy to my life. Taking care of him and watching his health improve in my care has grounded me in ways I never knew were coming. I’ve been grounded like this before, but I let it go for a minute.
Frankie reminds me of history to hold, and what to let go of. Here’s to staying and keeping light.
Basically since Saturday life has revolved around Frankie. The demands of a pound dog are full-on, even when it’s a perfect baby like my little rescued angel.
My most important mission has been to have him and Peanut loving each other. It seems to be working, although she doesn’t like when he tries to do puppy jumps on her. She hasn’t quite become trusting enough to play like she did with her brother – yet.
On top of his cold, caused by complete neglect and malnourishment – I’ve dealt with dirty teeth, dry skin and fleas. Luckily I’ve been on top of my game staying across everything. Dog people. We do things.
So, Frankie’s health and general condition continue to improve and blossom him back to a happy, healthy prancing puppy.
I realize I’ll never know his history, but I don’t think I’ll ever stop wondering about it. He’s a good boy and was obviously trained at some point, he knows more tricks than Peanut even. He’s house-trained, doesn’t pull on the leash and doesn’t run away when you let him off. And at the same time, he was clearly living in the streets for a very long time.
The only history I was told is that the people who brought him to the pound kept him for a week. Not very much of a bio.
I guess that means that Peanut and I will start to make new history with him. The three of us living in a Hell’s Kitchen studio is certainly an interesting beginning.
Namaste blog tribe
It pleases me in shivery ways to announce the latest addition to our cult of love – Frankie!
I rescued Frankie from the dog pound. On Saturday, the pound’s mobile unit cruised up to 82nd Street and Broadway. I have had my eye on adoptions now for some time, waiting for the right opportunity for Peanut to say G’day.
While there will never be any replacement for our beloved Henry, it’s time for my little girl to learn to love again. Fingers and toes are crossed that Frankie can help.
Frankie is the first dog I have rescued. I came across Peanut and Henry in the backyard of a few Queenslanders who had a litter. As can be expected, raising an animal from eight weeks… and rescuing one who is about two years = totally different deals.
Poor Frankie joins us very underweight, at least 4 kilos. His nose is scratched from pushing against the kennel door in the pound. He had the longest claws I’ve seen on a dog, watery eyes and a cough. I brought him to the vet who diagnosed him with a cold. They gave me some medicine.
Life changes drastically with a new family member, even after only a day and a half. This morning he danced around Central Park with Peanut, and he spent much of this rainy day resting.
I’m kind of having a heart attack about caring for two dogs again, over one – but I’ve become quite an advocate of the concept that dogs are pack animals and live much happier lives with a fellow canine companion.
Frankie is curled and tucked in Peanut’s big canvas crate. I hope he has sweet dreams. I learn something new about him each second.
Peanut has been squirreling her ass off in Central Park. Considering the fact that there are no squirrels in Australia, and this is her first springtime in the States – it’s some iz blog family.
She’s nearly eaten about a dozen squirrels so far, in front of international crowds of tourists and other various flavors of New York City tribe – capturing and (thankfully) releasing just one, so far.
I’m just wrapped to finally have some fricken WARM WEATHER! Continue reading