Dogs in Hawaii - Always Cheerful?

Tom and I disappeared for a week from Daisy's life, leaving her in the capable care of her cousin and aunt. How did it go? Well, more on that later.

For now, we'll concentrate on the dogs we met while on our fabulous vacation in, yes, Hawaii! We visited the Big Island. While we did spend most of our time swimming and snorkeling, we also ventured out on the land a bit to see what the dogs were up to. First, we discovered that most dogs do not go out during the daytime on weekdays at all. Are they sleeping off a wild weekend? Staying cool? It's hard to say.

But, come Friday afternoon, they emerge. The first pup we saw was 20 yards out from the shore, swimming with his human companion in a prime snorkeling spot at Honaunau Bay, called Two Steps for short. This seemed to be a regular activity for the two. (Tip for snorkelers: Leave the dolphins be. They need their sleep time during the day.)

We also spotted a couple of Basset hounds (see above) who had stopped for shaved ice one evening in Kailua-Kona Town. And this individual to the right was part of a greeting committee for kayaks at the Kealakekua Bay. He had just finished his job and was off to a nearby party.

Is it possible to generalize about Hawaiian dogs? Probably not. But they did all seem awfully mellow and good-humored, even when they had been charged with guarding someone or something. It's probably the warm air and all that salt spray that makes for a positive outlook and good temperament.

Daisy's theme song

Daisy and I co-composed a song about our escapades. It sort of has a wannabe Kings of Convenience breeziness, and Daisy consulted by whining or snuffing at certain chord progressions. The lame lyrics are all hers.

Play Daisy, Day by Day (mp3)

List of things Daisy has learned to do in her parents' absence

Tom and Sally are off to Hawaii, taking in sites like the Wai'po Valley. Meanwhile, Daisy has decided to reveal a repertoire of super-canine skills, previously unbeknownst to her parents:

• Balance an eel on the tip of her nose, Father William style
  
  
• Compose and perform guitar ballads full of suspended seconds
  
  
• Sleep uninterrupted, save vigorous squirrel dreams, for thirteen hours
  
  
• Solve the mystery of 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42
  
  
• Make banana pancakes
  
  
• Rescue three small children from riptides, and simultaneously block their sandcastle from waves
  
  
• Dig a CO2 sequestration pit big enough to end global warming
  

Being a modest dog, she'd probably rather I didn't tell the world about her deeds. Good thing she can't read.

Vancouver dogs -- rugged, yet pampered?

Just a week later off I went again, this time to Vancouver. While there, I had the opportunity to observe another very dog-friendly city. Just like Manhattan, people and their dog companions stepped out on the town morning, noon and night. But when the weather turned nice -- the best all year, I was told -- then there was no holding back.
Everyone in the city, it seemed, headed out to enjoy the sun and fresh air. And most seemed to be on their way to Stanley Park for the waterside greenery.

Vancouver dogs really do appear different somehow from those in Manhattan. They have that Northwest ruggedness, well-groomed but with a slight scruffiness that comes, perhaps, from the Pacific ocean air. Or maybe all that delicious salmon. It's good for one's coat, you know, even if not for one's breath.

But they have more of an air of sophistication than Montara dogs, who may live a little closer to the earth. We have fewer sidewalks, for example. And perhaps dogs are a little less pampered down here on the Coast.

New York dogs - sophisticated? spoiled? or simply urban?

Oh my! Look what day it is. Sorry to have disappeared like that.

You've probably been wondering what's become of us. One of us, Sally, has been traipsing around an awful lot. Tom and Daisy have been very patient about staying home on their own.

And I have missed them. So while in New York, I snapped some photos of the many dogs out walking in the morning, at noon, and in the evening. So many dogs in New York! Here are a few:

Taking the subway

Out at night

Walking in groups

For the highlight of the week, I visited Mara at the American Kennel Club headquarters. What a remarkable place! The walls are lined with handsome dog portraits, all of the utmost quality. And what did I see the moment I stepped off the elevator, in the most coveted spot at the entry? A beautiful Saint Bernard, of course!

Congrats to beagles everywhere

In case you missed the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show, you can find some great photos at the Christian Monitor site, and here at Animal Hubbub. And check out these lovely faces!

Daisy is not much of a beauty queen, though she does like her new FURminator. Yes, we broke down and bought one. We waited a couple days to try it, as I was worried about the loss of important undercoat warmth during this cold season. But soon, Tom was FURminating away. Even with this super-brush, grooming is still a project -- at least a half hour to start, we found. But we did accumulate a nice pile of fur from Daisy's back in about 10 minutes. Then it was time to rest.

The process must feel like a nice massage, because Daisy wanted more.

When FURminating the legs and tummy, one must be very careful. But after we got most of her, Daisy looked a bit thinner and her red-brown coat shined beautifully. A week later, her fur is taking on a soft luster and feels almost as thick as ever. And she doesn't appear to be cold. We'll let you know about the shed levels after we've had a chance to evaluate fur drifts around the house.

Ten Things I Learned From My Dog

Dogs -- and probably even cats -- have a way of making sad times easier. And they're good for more than a hug. They teach us an awful lot, too, especially about living life to its fullest. Here are ten lessons that Daisy has taught us:

1) Use all your senses.

2) If you're fearful or conditions are bad, seek higher ground.

3) Go for a long walk every day.

4) If you're curious about something, check it out.

5) Never leave the house without a dog.

6) Get plenty of sleep and nap when you're tired.

7) Arise at the same early hour every day.

8) Start thinking about dinner at least an hour early.

9) If you want a rub, ask nicely and you'll probably get it.

10) Stay close to those you love.

What lessons have your own pups taught you?

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!

A Visit to Carson City

Daisy's grandmom lives about 300 miles away in Carson City, Nevada. Off we went on Saturday to pay her a holiday visit. This time of year you never know what you'll encounter on the way up, particularly over Carson Pass, which is a very popular cross-country ski area for a reason. We've hit many a nasty snowstorm through this area, which reaches an elevation of 8,650 feet. We thought it was our lucky day when we reached Ham's Station and the road was still clear. Then the sky started to darken. A steady rain turned to snow, and there we were in the Mini Cooper, snow chains snugly behind the seat and the road rapidly turning to ice.

Daisy closed her eyes and put her head between a couple of blankets. I held on to the seat and Tom drove, very carefully, all the while insisting that the car was hugging the road beautifully. When we got to the black asphalt on the other side, we pulled over, jumped out and took a deep breath in the chill air.

We reached Carson Valley early enough for dinner. Mom had the foresight to have a pot of split pea soup simmering on the stove. Her place was toasty and brightly lit, and she had put the cat to bed in another room. Daisy lumbered in and sniffed around while the humans all greeted one another with hugs. She walked straight over to the Christmas tree and sidled up next to it. Before we could catch her, there our Daisy was, squatting, despite apparently having emptied her bladder moments ago. And so our visit began.

What winter looks like at the beach

Perhaps we've given you the wrong impression. The beach here isn't strewn with an endless array of old plastic bottle caps and scraps of rubber. Yes, there's too much of that stuff. But unless you're looking for washed-up junk, what you're likely to notice is the sand. Lots of it.

Not the satiny white sand you find in Hawaii. Here we have hard-ground sand, bits of rock tumbled and worn down by the waves until they have become a multicolored mat beneath your feet. Walk barefoot on this sand, and it's like getting a massage.

On a winter's day when the tide is high, lots of stories have washed up onto the sand. A little pink crab's leg ... what happened to the rest of it?

We see plenty of whole Pacific mole crabs spread-eagled on their tiny backs. Yum, some dogs just love these salty critters.

This morning the surf poured across the width of the beach and chased us up against the cliff walls. We spotted a sand dollar as we passed five young men practicing their kick-boxing. A scoter rode out on the waves.

Holiday at the beach

Judging by the leftovers on the beach this morning, Christmas Day must have been a grand holiday for the dogs. Daisy and I found two lime neon tennis balls and one small multicolored ball as we walked to the north end of the beach. One more green one washed away in the surf before I could grab it.

Down at the end we sat on a rock and I noticed a black face peering at us from the waves. In this regard I think the "dogs can't generalize" folks may be right. Point as I might, Daisy simply would not look out to sea. The sea lion bobbed up and down for a long while. But this sort of abstract thinking -- extending the line of a pointed finger to a distant object -- doesn't seem to be within Daisy's repertoire. She was more interested in the incoming surf and wanted to leave.

So we climbed back down the rock and headed south. The escaped green ball was perched up on a dune. Next we found a worrisome construction safety hat. The story behind it couldn't have been good.

There were the usual bottle caps and straws washed in by the tide. Then another rubber ball, this time bright orange. And at the beginning of the walkway at the edge of the parking lot, we found one more set of relics from a happy day. A pair of brown leather sandals sat abandoned, with a miniature Frisbee for dogs at their side.

(Sea lion photo courtesy Central Park Zoo)