A Rainy Day in Paradise

Aug. 20 - Rain on my Patio

Today is a rainy day in paradise. Florida might not be a paradise for everyone, but it works just fine for me. We seem to have scooted past the scorching hot "dog days of summer" and are now into the intermittent rain squalls. I like this kind of weather. The rain comes down in spurts and keeps the air clean and fragrant with the smell of whatever flowers are blooming at the moment. Today there's a whiff of Gardenias in the air.

I never realized how much I loved rain until we moved away from Florida to live in Las Vegas for several years. There you learn to pray for rain. Then you want to dance and sing in that rain when it does finally arrive. In Vegas it's like no rain forever and then one day it's flash floods. There's no inbetween in the desert. It's a harsh climate of hot, dry, 117 degree weather through the summer months, blustery Santa Ana winds in the fall, maybe a few snowflakes in the winter, followed by some scattered spring rains. Then for a few weeks the desert comes alive with wild flowers.

When we moved to the Texas Hill Country we had even less rain, if that can be imagined. We lived on the top of a hill with a panoramic view of rolling hills dotted with scrub oaks and red cedars and lots of rocks. The rocky soil there is called "hardscrabble" and it's pretty difficult to grow much of anything in it. I had to satisfy myself with pots filled with brightly colored flowers. We had a big covered back veranda so I had potted flowers everywhere.

The only problem with flowers in the Texas Hill Country is that the deer liked to eat them. And since we had a regular crowd of white-tailed deer visiting us on a daily basis, many of my flowers became lunch. I remember one day when a young buck, I named him Seymour after the "Little Shop of Horrors," decided he wanted some of my flowers. I was at the sink washing dishes and through the window saw Seymour standing among some pots of flowers near the front porch. Rushing out, I caught him red-handed with a whole marigold plant in his mouth, the golden marigolds hanging out of one side of his mouth and the roots hanging out the other. I scolded him and he promptly dropped the marigolds and backed away with a very guilty look on his face. Funny thing, I never caught him eating any of my flowers again. That doesn't mean he didn't actually eat some flowers now and then, only that he made sure I wasn't watching.

Anyway, in the 18 months we lived in Texas there was probably only 4 or 5 days of rain all told. A couple of those days the rain was so pitiful it was almost more like spit coming down from the sky. The other days the rain was so torrential it caused flash floods in the valleys. Those of us living on the hilltops just enjoyed the rain.

Now that we live back in Florida I cherish every minute of the rain. Some days, like today, it's a series of 10 or 15 minute rain squalls interspersed with sunshine. Sometimes it's days and nights of rain with no end in sight. Other times it could be weeks or even months before the next good rain storm. So for today all the flowers and trees and other plants are happy. Today I'm happy too.

A Story About Dogs - Part 1



Me with my first dog, Dusty

I love dogs. It seems like I've always had one or more as a companion since I was a baby. The first were Dusty and Rusty, red Cocker Spaniel puppies that my parents got for me when I was a year old. The two apparently didn't get along, or so I've been told, and Dusty was given away to a cousin, and Rusty was renamed Dusty. Not sure why they decided to change his name. My favorite Dusty story is when he and my 3 year old brother ran away together. They were waylayed a couple miles away by a sweet little old white haired lady. I can still picture the two of them sitting in the lady's yard when my mom and I went to pick them up. Anyway, Dusty stayed by my side, or my brother's side, for 12 whole years until he died of cancer.



Mr. Binks

 

It was a difficult decision in picking out a new dog. Tear-stained we finally made a trip to the pound and brought home Mr. Binks. Yep, he came with that name, but he was commonly known as Binky or Binks. That's him in the Slideshow photo standing on the rocks on Laguna Beach. Binky was an interesting mix, supposedly from a Cocker mom and an Old English Sheepdog, Hollywood movie star dog. Binky could pull us at breakneck speed up and down the sidewalk on our skateboards. He loved taking me for a walk, only the leash got clipped onto my jeans belt loop and Binky carried the leash in his mouth. Binky loved sunglasses, bright colored bandannas and T-shirts. He loved to swim in the pool or at the beach. I have mourned his loss for all these many years.

Lady and her two pups were dogs passing through. Lady was one year old stray Collie mix, pregnant by a neighbor's giant German Shepherd mix. Not long after she took up residence with us she had two puppies, born 8 hours apart as my Mother tells the story. Well, Mom named the pups Pansy and Yogi, only when they found new homes their names changed to Sheba and Max. Go figure. I rather liked the original names. Lady found a nice home with a woman who had a lot of dogs. I was in college at that time and moving on with my life and no room for dogs.

After Bob (name changed to protect the guilty, he wants me to say his name is Bob) and I got married we moved from California to Reno to Florida. That's where I found my adorable Dixie Darling, a Blue Merle Australian Shepherd pup who got so excited she tumbled to my feet when I first saw her. Dixie was known for her love of kids and her ability to round them all up in a circle. She was great at "kid control." Her unfortunate trait was that she was an escape artist. There was no fence she couldn't scale, so she'd take neighborhood walks on her own, visiting all her favorite people who gave her daily treats, plus she'd venture on down to the bay for a swim or to hunt for snakes. She could catch a water moccasin by the tail and whip it to death in a flash. Now those are mean and dangerous snakes to have around, so she kept the yard clear of them.

Dixie had a litter of pups before we had her spayed. Three found new homes, Rocky, Rebel and Blackie, but Jambalaya (aka Butchie) lived out his days with Dixie. One day Butchie disappeared and never came back. He was either stolen or hit by a car. Since he was a gorgeous big Blue Merle with one blue eye and one brown eye, I like to think someone took him home. Dixie ended her days when she got in the way of a car. Memories of Dixie just make me smile.

I eventually got another puppy, Rebel, a beautiful Border Collie whose claim to fame was jumping off our neighbor's fishing pier and swimming in the bayou. Rebel had a keen dislike of squirrels who would bomb him with hazel nuts from the trees overhead. So Rebel would bark his fool head off over those squirrels whenever we were away from home. This meant the neighbors complained and since a new "No Barking Ordinance" had just gone into effect, we had to find a new home for Rebel or face a $10/day fine. We didn't make that kind of money, so eight month old Rebel found a new home with a little old lady who was retired and wanted a dog to sleep on the end of her bed and to help her with her gardening.  



Maggie

 

Many many years passed before I ever considered bringing home another dog. By then we'd moved to Las Vegas and spent most of our time working and little time for anything else. But I started visiting the local pound on my lunch breaks and eventually brought home Maggie. She was a 10 week old Lab/Chow mix, full of energy and wanted to play catch for hours on end. So Maggie and I played catch on my lunch breaks and after I got home from work. She didn't care what I threw, a ball or stuffed toy or stick, she'd retrieve anything. At four months old Maggie stopped an early morning break-in, when a guy came over the wall with the intention of breaking and entering. Maggie backed the guy up to the wall and held him at bay until the police arrived. After the guy was arrested, it turned out he was an unregistered felon with a long record, the cops told us that Maggie was a dog to keep and were amazed at her guard-dog traits at such a young age.


Not ten months passed before I got it into my head that Maggie was lonely while we were at work. Hey, that sounded like a good story to me. So I took to visiting the pound again on my lunch breaks and brought home Nikki, a 7 month old Lab/Chow mix who looked very much like Maggie. Nikki was at the pound for the 2nd time, supposedly because her last owners had a cat and a new baby and decided to give up their puppy as they didn't have enough time for her. Nikki was very depressed when she came to live with us, but she took to Maggie right away. So in no time Maggie replaced the Cat Mother that Nikki had lost. To this day Nikki still has a fondness for babies and cats. In fact, we think that Nikki thinks she's a cat instead of a dog. Nik is very vocal and "talks" to us about everything. Her bark is an "uh-ruff" and she winds herself around your legs and furniture just like a cat.



Nikki

 My husband (Bob?) took the addition of Nikki to our household with mixed feelings. For the first year Nik tore out our drip water system in the backyard. My husband would painstakingly replace the drip lines and the next evening Nik would greet us at the door with 10 ft. of drip hose hanging from her mouth and her tail wagging so hard it shook her whole body. How can you scold a dog who looked that cute? Eventually Nikki learned better manners, but not until I had a long long talk with her and promised to return her to the pound if she tore up the drip lines one more time. Now Nikki is a very smart dog and she never tore up anything again after that. I guess Nik and I should have had that talk long before? (Read more at "A Story About Dogs - Part 2.")