Sad Days for Daisy

Daisy has been moping around a bit the past week, looking around for someone who's not there. That's because her aforementioned god-dad, Charles, has passed away.

In spite of all her neuroses, Daisy knows how to be a good friend. That's what she was to Charles, a brilliant, funny architect who bravely confronted the unrelenting progression of a brain tumor over the past 16 months. "Hey girl, how you doin'?" he'd call out to her, even after the effort to excise the tumor had also removed much of his ability to communicate verbally.

It's a special talent that many dogs have, to provide comfort and sometimes, a good laugh. Daisy liked to hang out under her godparents' dining room table, unseen but at the center of energy. People could rub their feet on her and she didn't mind. She'd always stick close to Charles, and would wander around looking for him if he was missing. She loved him as much as he loved her.

Fortunately, Daisy has no problem meeting new humans and rapidly winning their hearts. She would stride right into in-patient rehab and plop down on the floor. The nurses would all crowd around, telling us, "She's big!" It's a little warm in hospitals, but Daisy would usually stick it out. And there's nothing like the touch of soft fur against your hand when you're feeling down.

And the Winner....

We know you don't come here for surf news, but the king of 40-foot waves at Mavericks this year is South African Greg Long, who achieved a perfect score in the final heat. Not long ago, this contest was somewhat pompously called "Men Who Ride Mountains." On Saturday, though, all the surfers' talk of humility rang true. That's when the six finalists revealed that way out there on the water, while waiting on a near-flat ocean, they pulled their boards in a circle, held hands and agreed to split the $75,000 prize.

Then four-story waves started to roll in and the heat was on.

Here's the San Francisco Chronicle's coverage, where you can watch Long's ride on video. The San Jose Mercury News has this story.

Surf update: Mavericks Big Wave Contest Called

Our big wave, we learned today, was a harbinger of more. This morning a neighbor ran out to greet us as we began our walk. The Mavericks big wave surf contest has been called for tomorrow, she alerted us. A booming crash from the beach echoed up the valley and her eyes widened.

Local surfing legend Jeff Clark calls the contest after checking charts and forecasts for gigantic waves and good weather. Then surfers from all over the world have 24 hours to get here and prepare to ride. What started out as a scrappy challenge among a crew of dedicated and crazy surfers has turned into a big event.

Saint and Human Get Soaked

When you live by the ocean, you come to think you understand it. Or maybe, you understand how much you don't understand, retaining a healthy respect for the unknown.

But sometimes we get a little too comfortable. Or distracted.

This morning we were reminded of this when Daisy and I went out for our walk. As we headed down toward state park, we noticed the sign about unpredictable surf. Glad they post that for tourists, we thought. We observed the water pouring high on the beach, normal for winter but not as intense as the past few days. Over the weekend, the waves rolled so high and forcefully that we chose not to venture down to the sand.

But this morning, the sea had settled a bit and the wet, sparkling sand looked very inviting. We got all the way to the north end and the gray-blue spikes and spires of crashing water amazed us with their beauty. It had started to rain, but I was dressed warmly and Daisy had her fur coat.

When we turned around at the end, Daisy began to act antsy and pull. The rain began to pour. I looked down toward the middle of the beach and could barely make out, as I peered between raindrops, three people. They accompanied what looked to be three to four rollicking dogs. Were they heading toward us? Or turning back because of the downpour? We kept walking and I squinted to see better. We reached a spot where we had to cross a little stream. Here freshwater pours down the hillside and meets the waves. Just as I discerned that the group had turned around, I noticed a wave coming. And a big wave at that.

It was too late to turn back and too wet to turn forward. All we could do was stand there, with one wave sloppily coming around front and one rapidly advancing behind.

My soaked legs and feet

They call these "sleepers," big waves that emerge out of what looks like a calm sea. I planted my feet as the water swirled around us and I could feel Daisy getting lighter. Stay, Daisy! Daisy, stay! (I should have called, "Swim!") I encouraged her and held on. The water washed up to my thighs but Daisy managed to stick with me. Finally the flow subsided and we plowed forward and out of that dangerous spot. She shook a couple of times, and I could see sand sprinkled all about her coat.

I'm not sure whether having to swim against a rising current was more frightening to Daisy than those dogs down the beach. As soon as she got free of the water, she began to press forward toward the other animals, lurching right and left and pulling hard. All I know is that when we got home, she wanted a hug and was very, very tired.

A friend at dinner boosts appetite

In response to our description of Daisy's finicky eating habits, Mara describes the after-dinner food fight at her place and offers a suggestion:

"Then Maggie dashes to Lisa's bowl, and finishes any atom of food left in or near it. Lisa does the same to Maggie's bowl. Floors, bowls, etc. come out spic and span...

So, the solution is obvious. Daisy needs a dinner companion."

Funny you should mention this, Mara! Feeling hesitant to throw out a wonderful Saint Bernard calendar for 2007, I thought of a new purpose. Perhaps Daisy would enjoy looking at cute Saint Bernards while at dinner. So I posted a puppy clambering amidst lavender behind her dinner station. (This also serves as an easy clean-up option for the rice and egg splatters -- just toss out the photo every so often.)

What do you know? You are absolutely right. Ever since that puppy has been her breakfast and dinner partner across the bowl, Daisy has slurped up every bit of food she can, and right quick, too.Our scientifically minded readers might object: "Correlation is not causation!" And indeed, it's true. But, failing the ability to interview Daisy, we have to go with anecdotal observation. And we do have two data points from separate locations -- New York and San Francisco -- that suggest that dinner companions do boost appetite.

FURminator Update

So, no FURminator yet, and we are suffering for it. With so much cold weather and rain, Daisy has amped up her production. Here are results from the latest brushing. Anyone want to spin this up into yarn and make a sweater? Here's a recipe.

Holiday paws in the mud

Fortunately, Mom had seen such things more than once before. She laughed and pulled out a Bissell Spotlifter. This is an amazing machine.

First, of course, we had to blot up the pint of urine now sitting on the white rug. Then Mom squirted some sort of pet odor and stain removal formula onto the fiber, and vacuumed it all up. You'd never know anything had happened.

But Miss Behavior wasn't finished. We fed her dinner, a concoction inspired by Mara's meatloaf. Daisy ate up with vigor, but as she chewed, she dribbled big chunks of rice and egg all about the freshly washed kitchen floor. I wiped up as best I could, while my mom told me that she had timed her last scrubbing. Only ten minutes!

After this display of good manners, Daisy settled in and we all relaxed.

Because of the allergy-inducing cat, we stayed at a bed and breakfast in town. Daisy thought it was great -- it offered wonderful views out each window and she had the run of the place. True, the Bliss Bungalow is really quite nice. We liked the comfortable bed, restrained historic decor and warm feel of the shared kitchen and living areas.

At Mom's we ate, drank, and talked up a storm. With Daisy we had to be discrete. Mom lives in a townhouse complex that surrounds a lake frequented by migrating waterfowl. No dogs over one foot high allowed. We snuck Daisy in under her blanket and attempted to walk her out of view. But once again, Daisy would have none of it. She left clear evidence of her visit, rules be damned!