Camera in Hand

Feeling stronger than usual, I decided to take the neighborhood trail, but be extremely diligent about pursuing a route that was peaceful. That's not what ended up happening, but there was a feeling of extreme empowerment and satisfaction this time. The reason? I brought my iPhone, complete with camera and video recording capabilities.

I have been practicing walking with the camera phone outside of the neighborhood trail. In my practice, I've learned that the camera app is slow to launch, and like Paul's cool photography of the Honu, it's better to record the action with video instead of going for still shots when there is a lot of movement going on. The best way to walk is with the device in my hand, as if reviewing something that's just been received, but keeping the video camera at the ready is all that is necessary for some decent live action shots.

In my quest for a peaceful, contemplative walk, I chose to take a path to the upper park that is actually situated in the city of San Ramon. The walk started off calm enough. I was enjoying the cool, crisp air and the view of Mount Diablo as Roxie and I spotted a coyote scurrying away from us. Wanting to get a shot of the coyote, I whipped out the iPhone, but the coyote was too sly and it hid someplace inside the high brush that is likely its home. Off in the distance I saw a man coming toward us, his dog off leash. The dog looked like an Akita-Husky mix, scary looking in any case, but this was my chance at using the camera. I kept going, instead of using my usual tactic which is to turn around and hoof it quickly in the opposite direction.

I can't say that I was practicing aloha when that dog and its owner passed by us. In fact, I lost my temper using an undignified expletive, and I am not proud of that. Under my breath, I stated that he should leash his dog, and he took issue with it. Like so many oblivious dog owners, he had not read the sign that has been posted at the gate of the trail for as long as I have been walking there. I rebuffed his remark by stating something about how it's posted at the trail head. He maintained that walking the dog off leash was allowed on this trail, as he raised his hands at me in disgust. In my panic I stopped recording the episode, so taken aback was I in his heartlessness. He yelled something about how I don't make the laws, he called me a lunatic, and stomped off.

Ironically the dog really wasn't as bad as the other dogs I've encountered in my recent past, but its owner was as brutal as that Pit Bull that killed Hardy. What is unfortunate? This wouldn't have phased me if it had occurred sometime before June 14, 2010. I would have let Hardy off leash and play with the dog that really seemed quite nice. In fact, during this encounter, both of the dogs were silent and distinguished. I came away feeling disturbed, proud of the dogs, disappointed in the humans, yet feeling empowered because of the use of my camera.

Good-bye Mellow Brook Trail

The last time I visited my psychiatrist to check in, I felt empowered to make changes in my life that were not out of cowardice, but out of good sense. On the way home from that visit, I made a stop at a grocery store and noticed a car that was decked out with several of those new magnetic bumper stickers. They were very similar to the one I wrote about last year that stated, "Who Rescued Who?" The one on the car this day that moved me the most said, "It's a Dog's World... Adjust." I couldn't help thinking that my psychiatrist had followed me to that store just so I would read it. I felt like it applied to me specifically, and coincidentally, it was parked directly next to mine when I came out of the building.

I was reminded of that saying this afternoon. It had inevitably got filed someplace in my subconscious, but today it has had a noticeable influence on me. I recently asked my husband if he wouldn't mind adding my family members back on our local athletic club membership and he thought it was a good idea. So good in fact, the day I queried about the change, he went directly to the Club and signed us all up. I had forgotten how much I love working out. Walking and cycling has been my main medium for getting aerobic exercise because going outdoors is also something I love to do. I've said it before, Hardy was my gym. Since walking is such a major chore now, with all of the poorly behaved, wild and dangerous dogs I've been bumping into, I've decided to take action using my common sense. I've made a decision: no more dog walking for exercise.

I believe it's time for me to let go completely in a regular walking routine. It's time for me to adjust. There are plenty of other opportunities for my dog and me to get outside and enjoy the fresh air, and I plan to make use of those instead. For example, I love to garden, and I love to read, and I love to simply sit outside and observe the natural world. I can do all of this in the safety of my backyard, and I won't have to deal with anything to harsh.

I truly don't think Roxie will mind. She seems to enjoy eavesdropping on the chickens, occasionally trying to entice them to play with her when she is feeling spunky. Basically, she just wants to be with me anyway.

Ducks Sleep in the Water

I embarked early this morning, so early the gate to the trail was locked. I decided to take an alternate route beginning with a steep hill that leads to a posh neighborhood with outstanding views. The view beckoning, and thinking I would retake the hill again, Roxie and I turned around and walked back down. Once at the bottom, we discovered the gate was now open, so we took the trail to the park. It was quiet and peaceful and my heart was warmed with aloha. The trail was returned to me, complete with sightings of deer, the quail flock, and a pair of ducks sound asleep on the creek bank, heads tucked softly under their wings.

I stopped at the park to pick up a doggie bag, noticing a single park maintenance worker collecting the trash from garbage bins. A man, bundled up due to the chill, was reading the Sunday paper at a nearby picnic table. Roxie and I moved towards the grassy area where she loves to run off-leash, and do her business. As I walked through the sunlight dappled through the tree branches, I marveled at the loveliness of the scene. So enjoyable was this private walk, we went all the way down to the dog park that is about one mile away from my home. A red shoulder hawk called overhead, and the quail flock awaited us, the littlest ones scurrying into the brush while the larger ones called out from the tops of the bushes. I cursed to myself for not bringing my camera.

We stopped and watched, as I kept Roxie a quiet and safe distance away from the quail, noticing a male on one side of the trail and a female on the other. Once all of the quail were quietly out of sight, we resumed our walk back towards home. And then came the humans. A couple walked together silently side by side for their morning exercise.  I spotted the first dog owner jogging some distance away with her chihuahua, as I passed back through the park. The man I had seen earlier was still enjoying reading his newspaper on the park bench. I moved toward a crosswalk, noticing a woman walking her Boxer from the opposite direction - not one of my favorite breeds. I decided to take another lap around the park, and by the time I did, she was no longer in eye shot. My evasive technique worked and I was delighted.

I began walking uphill towards home on the trail, relaxed and pleased that I was not frightened even once on this walk. I took a quick look behind me to ensure one last time that the woman and her Boxer were not following me. I like to let Roxie run off-leash a little as we work our way towards home. After one last look over my shoulder for safety before letting her go, I noticed the man on the park bench was now standing up watching me intently as I moved out of sight. I decided that it was just a coincidence, but something was nagging at me not to let Roxie go, so I kept her on leash, keeping a watchful eye around every twist and turn of the trail.

Then it happened. A man being pulled by an an ugly, panting, Pit Bull came directly towards me. I looked at the guy sorrowfully, and muttered something under my breath. I turned around looking for a safe spot to go, and moved off the trail quite a bit, picking up Roxie as I did. Panic set in and I hugged her close to my body praying that nothing bad would happen as the dog moved passed me panting and growling.

"Thank you," the man said quite graciously. I turned my head slightly, enough to see that he was sincere. Then I turned my back to him and waited until he was some distance away before I continued on the trail towards home. I noticed a tattoo on the back of his right calf thinking it was a weird place to have a tat. His gratitude helped me even though I walked home dazed and somewhat heartbroken. It was a good walk spoiled. There was no driving, chipping, or putting, but I think Samuel Langhorne Clemens would have agreed when describing this early Sunday morning walk.

Memories of Maui

Here are some of my favorites all taken by Dmitri Offergeld at Honokeana Cove. Enjoy!

Where We Exchanged Vows

A Good Morning in Santa Cruz

Walking the neighborhood in Santa Cruz is so much easier for me. I hate to admit it, but the worst behaved doggie here is my own. Yesterday she charged a sweet and timid Golden Retriever from our back entry. I was going to my car, and she got out from behind me, charging this poor dog and his owner exactly like that Black Retriever did to us a week ago. I couldn't get her to back off, and had to chase her down, pick her up, and scold her on the way back. I went for errands after that, keeping her "crated" in the car. Good thing it was cool outside. With the windows open a little, I can return to my car with the fresh ocean air and a comfortable temperature in the car.

This morning we walked near that same dog and his master. The man remembered us and commented about how sweet Roxie was on the leash. I shook my head, and apologized again taking full responsibility. The man admitted that his dog was somewhat of a coward, but also added that my dog scared him too. We both marveled at how the two dogs got along as we passed by. I felt like the man accepted my apology today, which was a stark contrast to yesterday when he gave me the silent stink eye stare.

My new "weight loss" walking strategy was carried over this morning. I recently read that one of the hidden money drains from the wallet is fancy lattes. Everyone knows how much I love my latte. Now I've found a substitute. It's an instant "International" coffee that is both decaffeinated and sugar free - bonus. One can from the store serves me a cup for about 30 cents. The catch is, I can only seem to locate this coffee at Safeway (still love my pink bag), and since my new walk strategy is to take a hill... I decided to try the big kahuna hill in Santa Cruz: Alta Vista.

There is only one word to describe Alta Vista (besides the obvious Alta, which means tall in Spanish): STEEP. The last time my brother and nephew were here on bikes, they bragged that they rode up this hill. I'm not sure I could ever do that! Walking was a feat in itself, but once at the top, complete with groceries in both hands, and Roxie towing me up, I'm happy to report that I didn't fall down, and I actually enjoyed it. I think hill climbing is fast becoming an enjoyable new routine. It simply burns too much fat to ignore, and easy fat burning is epic!

Hardy would have loved this walk, and the Golden Retriever too. He was always up for a physical challenge, and I'm sure he would have been tugging me along up that hill along with Roxie. One of my memories of Hardy is that people would comment about how young he looked. I believe it was because I took him everywhere with me, whenever I could, and also because he got plenty of fresh air outside with me. We had that in common, we both loved the outdoors. I regret to report that I never took Hardy on the Alta Vista hill climb, despite the fact that it was always there waiting for us. I guess it took his untimely death for me to change my daily routines and challenge my personal limitations even more.

Wild Animal Residents in the Hood

I began my walk this morning eager to appreciate the new California Quail flock I spotted the other day, or the lone coyote, or even a fledgling turkey or two. I came home believing that I am being investigated, or in my own words harassed. It seems like every morning I walk into dog owners, both responsible and irresponsible. But this time it was over the top. I took a hill, then meandered down to the park, using what people in the hood call the "upper" trail.

Prior to the attack, the upper trail was always quiet and extremely uncrowded. It was rare to see dogs that I didn't recognize, let alone dogs and/or people at all. I know the dogs that will lurch out at me - because they are my neighbors' dogs. I know the ones who are going to be off leash, and I know the ones that are sweet and mild. These dogs are locals and I recognize them from a distance; I know some of them by name. But now, I am regularly seeing dogs I don't recognize on my quiet trail, everyday. It's weird. Even weirder still? The irresponsible dog owners I am seeing on a regular basis, the ones who are walking a dangerous, lurch out type dog. These "owners" are also usually talking on the phone. One time I clearly saw someone sitting on the grass in the park with her iPhone, not talking, but using it as a camera, and Roxie and I were the subject matter. Who was she?

For months I have been shrugging these sightings off, as coincidences. Today I put one and one together. On my way down to the park, there was an awful dog and a small dog attached to a woman talking on the phone. The awful dog was yanking its leash and had that eye thing going on with Roxie. I was terrified. I yelled out that I was scared of her dog, and she politely moved her dog past me as I went far off the trail to what felt like a safe spot. I turned my back, and she SLOWLY went by - all the time talking on the phone. I overheard her explaining what was happening as she went by as I held Roxie in my arms - fearfully using my ostrich technique.

Fast forward to the park where there was another woman, also on the phone, who was walking with an aggressive looking mid-sized dog. She slowly meandered around, seemingly waiting to see which way I would go so she could approach me, or so I thought. I have so many routes now that it's easy for me to get a good walk in, as well as evade them, but I couldn't help but wonder if she was actually talking to the other woman that I'd recently seen at the upper part of that same trail.

I decided to follow her. She continued on the lower part of the trail, my favorite part, but I didn't follow her until I knew she would be a good 15 minutes distance down the road.  I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw her again, not very far from the bend in the trail, just hanging around. At this point, I really felt like she was watching me. I turned around and for the second time with this same person, walking in the opposite direction. There is a different path that I know of that allows walkers to see the trail from a distance away, and I took it to see what she would do. By the time I got to the place where she was stagnating, I saw that she was gone. I felt relieved. Saddened, but relieved.

I am sad to note that I had mild flashback on the way home. That awful dog and its piercing stare down at Roxie caused it. I had to shake my head to make it stop, but it did stop. I felt poorly though and hurried home. As I walked by the house, I counted houses to keep my sanity. When I finally arrived I was greeted by my sweet next door neighbor who was on her way to work. It felt like I was being welcomed by a guardian angel. I hadn't seen her for some time, and I was happy to see her lovely, smiling face. We didn't chat for too long, but she successfully got me thinking about other things, and noticed how great Roxie was doing. By the time she drove away to begin her workday, I was feeling much better, but still wondering if the "phone" ladies walking the trail were just a coincidence or hired to be there.

Tough Love Neighborhood

Roxie at the Trail (check out her Angel's Eyes!)

 It happened again. I got charged by another dog while walking my Roxie on the way back to the house.  It happened just a few houses before the attack house. I wonder how much more of this I can take. I am so grateful for the panic pills. They really help me cope. At the same time, I hate having to rely on them to keep me sane. It's unfortunate, but it's true. Even more unfortunate is that my own dogs (Hardy, Chico, AND Roxie) have done the same thing from time to time. There are so many dog walkers who use our sidewalk to get to the beautiful trail near our house that sometimes when the garage door opens, a neighborhood dog, or our dogs, will charge the walkers who are peacefully strolling by. It happens both ways too. Sometimes it's our dogs that charge, and other times it's the sidewalker's dog charging us. I have to remind myself every time I open the garage door to put the dogs inside for the opening, and check the sidewalk to make sure it's safe.

Neighborhood Camping Jamboree

Exhausted Dad after Camping Night

This is the same neighborhood where just last weekend there was a neighborhood camping "jamboree" for families in the area. People came and pitched their tents in the park, gathered for some fun campy events, barbecued their food, and had donuts in the morning before packing their stuff away. When I walked around the neighborhood park on the wake up morning, I snapped a photo of the sweetness of it all. It was heartwarming. An interesting side note was that I didn't see many pooch campers in tow, nor did I bump into any bad dogs on my walk that morning or the evening prior. I had been feeling fairly safe and not so jumpy walking, but as usual, when I let my guard down for even an instant I usually get creamed. 

I have no willingness to fight back now. I dropped Roxie's leash, covered my face, and hurried away from the charging dog. I know I was moaning or something like that, and I was calling Roxie to follow me, but I don't remember feeling my feet as I moved away from the dog. It was a big black dog, and I've been charged by it before I lost Hardy, getting away unscathed. This time my response was visceral, and stemmed directly from the attack experience that took the life of my beloved doggie. Like the past experience with Big Black, Roxie and I came away unharmed, at least physically. But I couldn't keep my composure as I hurried to the safety of my home, where thankfully, my daughter was inside already home from work.

Eventually I had to relent and take a panic pill. I feel like a failure when I have to do that, like I can't cope and I'm addicted to drugs. The bottom line is that the pill works! Sometimes I search for the bigger picture of it all, and it came to me later because I had stopped during my walk to chat with a neighbor - both of us out burning fat at our trail. It was a brief and lovely conversation, and before we went our separate ways, I made it a point to thank her for her support this past year. She is someone who has continually checked in with me, and encourages me as I walk passed her house. I remember what she said to me on attack day, it was, "It could have easily been one of my children. We live right across the street from them." She was referring to the neighbors who owned the attack dog.

When I think about the purpose of this horrific event, I am comforted to know that it was NOT one of her children that day. Even though I had to give up my Hardy, I would do it again if I knew that was the reason for his death. I find solace in that thought. Perhaps Hardy saved not only my life, but also the life of a child.  That thought doesn't make my longing for him go away, because I still miss him, and I can't help wondering when these difficult events cross my path how we would have weathered them if he had survived.

Save the Ta Tas

Yesterday was the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer: San Francisco event. It was inspiring to see all of the ladies, gentlemen, and children walking for this cause. As we drove over the Golden Gate Bridge we cheered for hundreds of people who were out there walking to save the ta tas. Pink was EVERYWHERE (photo montage on Flicker). For obvious reasons it is easy to understand why women would support the ta tas... but those of us in the car decided this was a cause to be supported by both women and men. Everyone knows how much men love breasts, and I don't know a man who could honestly say they would want their mother, sister, daughter, girlfriend, fiance, wife, or even ex-wife to loose hers. It's never to late to make a donation, so if you are reading this, click the donation link and remember no amount is too small.

My daughter and her BF

Once across the bridge we wound our way to one of our favorite highways that eventually leads to one of our favorite destinations: Wine Country. In fact, we love this 101 over Golden Gate and through Marin County so much that we have begun to take that route whenever we can. Wine country awaits about 20 minutes after crossing over the bridge, and this time we stopped to picnic at Gloria Ferrer. Tasty treats, delicious bottled water, a spectacular view and great company made this visit festive and fun. I enjoyed myself so much that I joined their Cuvee Wine Club. I just love sipping sparkling wine as I create memories with my loved ones.

The Newlyweds

Lock Down

I went for a walk this morning. I’ve learned if I take Roxie for a walk in the early AM, I see fewer people walking their dogs, and it’s a lot less stressful for both of us that way. She still has rotten manners when she sees a dog coming towards us from the opposite direction, and her behavior doesn’t help me much AT ALL. But after visiting my psychiatrist and confessing that I’ve gained about 8-10 lbs., I decided that I had to MAKE myself do it. By now, I have some strategies that work for me, but I still have some super bad panic from time to time.

The strategy that works best to help me keep my cool is the ostrich/golfing strategy. I wear a big floppy rimmed hat to cover my eyes, and keep my head down, as if there is a golf ball I am trying to hit. It doesn’t help when there is a particularly unruly dog coming toward us because Roxie is guaranteed to growl and carry on like the rescue animal that she is. I am committed to getting back into exercising outside, and I’m not willing to give up my beloved trail walks, so I continue to work on going outside as often as I can. It used to be every day, but now I’m happy if I get out there twice a week. Baby steps.

I also have a new route that I walk. For specific and compelling reasons, too many depressing ones to mention, I can’t walk the route I used to walk with Hardy. I don’t ever want to retrace those steps ever again, so I don’t push it, and walk different routes practically every time I take Roxie out there. There are a couple of new things I like to do when I walk. I like to take in at least one steep hill, preferably towards the beginning of the walk, and I like to make it down to the grassy area that borders a neighborhood park, so I can let Roxie off leash a little bit in a somewhat safe area. There are rarely any other dogs in this grassy fenced in area, and it’s shady and green and relaxing. I can breathe there.

Just when I think things are going to be free and easy, something inevitably happens that makes my skin crawl. The first happened on my nephew’s birthday celebration day – I just couldn’t celebrate on the actual day. That was when I went walking with my brother and his boys to throw the Frisbee around. The grassy park was the Frisbee haven where the men threw a disk like only Santa Cruz Slug Alum and his college kids could. It was spectacular, and Roxie more than anyone else, seemed to really like this excursion. It happened when we were returning home that day when I noticed out of the corner of my eye a couple walking their pit bull – off leash. I started to panic and ran home with Roxie in my arms, got to the front door, attempted to open it, and it was locked. Thankfully, my son opened the door, so I could enter the house and collapse on the floor in tears, whining about when I would ever be whole again.

The family didn’t quite know what to make of my behavior. They were a little out of practice. I’ve been working everyday and the parents at the elementary school where I teach have been diligent about keeping their dogs at home. In any case, the good news was that I didn’t have a full-blown panic attack. The bad news? I was not able to function for about 10 minutes because I was tearfully breaking down in a similar location on the inside of a house, looking out the window, watching for safety to return to our quiet, peaceful neighborhood. Meanwhile, that couple waltzed down the block oblivious about my plight. So unfair.

Suffice it to mention, it ruined my day, but I was proud of the fact that I didn’t have a full-blown panic attack. The next event was worse, however. Again I went for a walk early in the AM, and both my husband and my daughter had both left to work. There is a signal I leave them to keep the door unlocked so I may enter easily. I don’t usually bring along a key when I walk, so on this occasion, I returned to my home, and our scary, violent neighbor was in his car with his pit bull waiting to go inside (after I was out of eye shot). Our neighbors run a child care next door, and I’m certain that they didn’t want me to see their dog go into the backyard – as if I haven’t seen it before. UGH!

In any case, I’m scared of this particular neighbor and his pit bull. It was NOT a convenient time for me to be locked outside of my home while he was outside – especially because he was with his dog. I tried to endure without losing it, but all I could think about was that I wanted to get inside, and I couldn’t do that because I was locked out at the gate and at the front door. He finally decided to take his dog out of the car and, off leash, called the dog inside their back yard – right in front of me. It was too much for me to handle; I panicked. I ran to the side of the house where no one could see me, and I proceeded to kick down the fence until there was enough room so I could pass through.  Back inside the safety of my home, I shut down and locked myself in my room until family came home to comfort me hours later.

I hate that my pain and fear isn’t something people can read. My family can see when I am freaking out, but otherwise all of my anxiety and panic happens on the inside of me; it’s not noticeable to insignificant others. Most folks think I’m okay, but I still struggle, and it seems like the bulk of my struggle occurs one or two doors down from my house. Additionally, I have to continually make adjustments in my daily routines from over a YEAR ago. It reminds me that wounds of the psyche are just as challenging to heal as wounds of the flesh. Maybe even more so.

Crystal Cruises Symphony

I was invited to tag along with my husband to have lunch on the Crystal Cruises, Symphony that was docked in San Francisco yesterday. We arrived there at 11:30 had a tour of the ship, complete with live chamber music in the lobby, and then sat down with our friends for a lite lunch. While I can appreciate the beauty of the ship, and our friend's photography business on it, I was once again reminded that I do NOT like cruising. The minute I stepped on board, I felt that familiar slightly off balance feeling. I don't understand why anyone would want a hotel cruising around on the ocean more than soaring above the clouds and unpacking on LAND. But to each his own.

Our friends LOVE to cruise and spend almost half the year on a boat cruising the oceans blue. They seem in their element while cruising on this ship. They are a husband and wife team that run a photography operation strictly for Crystal Cruises. They produce expensive photo albums, as well as high end portraits, and other family keepsakes for the the guests while they are at sea. Their business is an international one with an international staff. I must say that their work is incredible and that the ship is equally so.

Our lunch was on the Lido Deck overlooking the city of San Francisco, the Bay Bridge, and the Golden Gate, which the Symphony passes under during the beginning of their journey to Alaska. That must be a sight to behold! The views from the Lido Deck were spectacular, but being in the company of a photography company, it simply didn't feel right taking pictures of anything. Most noteworthy was the view of Alcatraz off the stern of the ship during our tour. It was difficult for me to keep my camera in my purse, and I regret that I didn't at least snap a pic of that, especially since my own family has some history there. My grandfather was a guard on Alcatraz when it was a working jail, and he used to ferry to work there and back again.

I think I have an affliction for riding those ferry boats, and I've made it a point to include the link for the one that leaves a couple of blocks away from Pier 35, where the Symphony was docked. There are several ferries that depart from SF, but you won't be headed for Alaska, with a stop at Vancouver on its way further north. The thing that makes the ferry trip so fun, is that you ride it one way, and you may stay at your final destination as long as you want. In my opinion, that's the cruise ship's downfall. Once it departs, the participants must follow the itinerary of the cruise line, and get on and off again on a schedule. It's also one of the things our friends complained about. There is not enough time to have an adventure on your own when you take a cruise. If you miss the boat, you're sunk!

Hardy would not give a paw up to taking a cruise either. In fact, he would not even want to place a paw on deck. Since he had such a sensitive stomach, he would have likely become seasick too. He never liked it when I used hand sanitizer either, something required as you board. Hardy was, however, allowed on those wonderful ferry boats, but I'm also disappointed to note, he didn't like riding on those very much either. It was simply too loud and windy on the car deck, the only deck where the four legged animals are allowed. That said, Hardy would leap with joy to go on an excursion to Sausalito on the Golden Gate Ferry. I'm confident that he would em-BARK with delight.

Dinner with a Celebrity

Yesterday was my son's 21st birthday. I am so proud of him. He's living on his own in Santa Cruz and going to UC at the same time. I'm an education nut, but I'm not sure how fun it would be to live in such a wonderful place, and then keep your head in the books. Fortunately for him, he has found a way to make the best of both. He is working towards a major in Psychology, and a minor in Electronic Music. It's an excellent way for him to get experience in producing music as an undergraduate. UCSC also has a two year graduate program. I'm so proud of my son because he found the minor first, and didn't have to add it on later as a graduate. He doesn't complain, but it adds a lot more to the course load. But it gets better... he has also made it a point to use his skills out in the world to make some extra cash.

He has done all of this education stuff at the urging of his father and me, as well as "spin" music as a DJ for people in San Francisco, Santa Cruz, and other cities in the Bay Area. Then his 21st birthday came around, and almost seemed to get in the way; he was the headliner at a nightclub in Oakland until the wee hours of the morning, and then he had to get up, walk to school, and take a Sociology mid-term just hours later. Poor thing! I felt so sorry for him when he had to get up at the crack of dawn to go to UC to take that exam. What a trooper. He looked exhausted when I left our condo to return to Dublin, but he didn't complain one tiny bit.

We began the 21st birthday family celebration at the Crow's Nest. Wednesday night is usually the night we sail in the sailboat races, but it was fun to watch them from the other side. We waited there until Paul arrived, and then the four of us loaded up in one car to go to Shadowbrook in Capitola for dinner. A couple of the staff noticed him as we dined. It's a little bit like dining with a celebrity. We enjoyed our dinner and his company at this wonderful restaurant. I hope it was as fun for him as it was for me. I enjoyed myself, and the company of my family, immensely.

Hardy always barked, "If you can't play in the islands, woof the islands to you."  I don't think Hardy would have minded waiting in the car here. It's never too hot, and they boxed a special "doggie dinner" for Roxie and Chico who waited out there. Hardy would have loved running up and down the garden stairs that lead to the restaurant, but I don't think he would have liked riding the tram. It's just too darn romantic for a little doggie.