Dog, Fog, and House ...


Previously I wrote in, Puppy Love, about my hopes for the future of our yellow lab mix. He is now 9 months old and doing exceedingly well. We chose to move him to the new house in the late evening and fed him here with the other two dogs. For familiarity his cage and bed were brought along and placed in the living room but have since been moved into a spare room off the kitchen. The first night he didn’t mind being locked in his cage. It may have provided some security in a strange environment. The next night he got upset in the middle of the night, thus the move to another room where he could be allowed to move around and change positions without getting into trouble for sleeping on the furniture.

We braced ourselves for the possibility of altercations with neighboring dogs, but to our surprise and relief they have all gotten along quite well. We have gone from a secure walled-in yard to an open area surrounded by rice fields. If I didn’t know better I could imagine that being the resident pack of the biggest and most eccentric house in the area has afforded our dogs an elevated status among the local thugs and bullies.  All three of our male dogs are behaving differently these days and strutting their stuff with a relaxed air of self confidence.

With the success of the move I decided to try, leash free, hiking to the dam. The youngster isn’t as strong as his uncles but makes a valiant effort to keep up. The one dog is an elegant leaper with some very stylish moves. The puppy has tried on occasion to follow his lead up a steep hill or high ledge, to find himself falling in a heap at the base of the embankment. Embarrassing for sure but no damage done.

Without the hindrance of a leash we are all getting a much better workout on our frequent constitutionals. With the foggy, morning temperatures in the fifties these days, the nearly 5 mile round trip jaunt to the dam, is quite pleasant. The locals are no longer shocked when we pop out of the mist on their way to the fields and orchards. We are heading home from the dam, flush from our exertion and enjoyment. No telling how long this weather will last so I’m determined to get out every morning, if possible. After the stress and preoccupation of building the house this aging frame is in dire need of a regular exercise regimen.

As for the house, it has far exceeded what I allowed myself to hope for. After grinding coffee beans and steeping them in the French press, I sit at the table these mornings, savoring this addicting brew. I take in the views of the fields and mountains beyond and count myself among the fortunate few to be living a dream.