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Hi there. Thanks for stopping by. If you are new here then let me introduce you to Peggy and Steve. You’ve now met the two most important dogs I know. Today we’ll talk about two dogs. Let’s all take a deep breath and direct our focus on a dog for a moment.
As close readers of Some Dogs may recall, Peggy is a complicated animal with an independent spirit. Inside her fluffed, fur-bound frame she contains galaxies worth of pure affection and loyalty. For example, after being hit by a car, Peggy, naturally, grew wary of motor vehicles, even stationary ones. But in recent years she has overcome her fear after realizing that human beings — her favorite in the pantheon of species — tend to come out of cars and, in most cases, lavish her with pets. But Peggy can also be aloof and sometimes withholding. This is most true in the summers, when she craves room to roam and a dynamic outdoor environment of sun (for luxuriating and surveying) and shade (for her formidable coat).
Peggy’s dwelling is rather small and in the winter months, when the winds and frequent rains batter the coast, she and Steve are largely left to putter around the home. A tradeoff of living in the rainy west, yes, but a worthy one. Because when the temperate, sun dappled weeks of early summer roll around, Peggy becomes an outdoor cat of a dog.
Peggy’s typical summer day begins by waking at an ungodly hour with the sun. Breakfast and a few quick naps give way to a morning constitutional. But once she’s back home, the restlessness begins. Inevitably, around nine or ten, one of her roommates will notice her sitting by the door, gazing longingly outside. The screen door is parted and she begins her day lolling about her domain. Sun. Shade. Luxuriating in various patches of cool dirt. A nap in the grass. Woofing weakly at a Federal Express employee. But the culmination of a successful summer day takes place around cocktail hour, when the sun is still high in the sky. When the roommates are ready, Peggy and Steve lead the way down a well worn path carved into smooth, ten foot cliffs of sandstone and onto a rocky beach where much ball fetching and swimming commence.
The longest days melt away in this pleasing fashion, with Peggy coming and going as she likes. Until one afternoon in late July.
On this day your faithful correspondent was packing for a trip of considerable length. Unlike Steve, who has yet to make the connection, Peggy does not like packing as it portends some kind of undesirable roommate absence. At first sight of a suitcase, Peggy ambled outside, which, as we have made clear, is quite normal summertime behavior.
Occasionally Peggy’s transience will make her harder to locate. It might, for example, take a few moments to rouse her if she is mid-nap in the dirt. On this day, all attempts to recall Peggy failed. A careful examination of her usual domain revealed no trace. A concerned (but not frightened) hunt ensued. First on foot, then by vehicle. Residents of all ages were questioned as to Peggy’s whereabouts. She remained elusive until, after much searching, we returned home to find her sunning herself by our front door. She looked pleased. And soaking wet.
Confused, your correspondent took his trip as planned. But dispatches from home revealed that Peggy’s absence was no fluke. Two days later, in the heat of the afternoon, Peggy was nowhere to be found. A similar search party found her half a mile away basking in the shade and observing patrons by the general store. Again, soaking wet. The following day offered a similar disappearance — a third strike. But this time she was discovered quickly. Via dispatch, your correspondent learned that Peggy had, for the first time in three years, discovered a staircase down the sandstone cliffside to her rocky beach. Timing the tides expertly, she was able to find a small alcove in the cliff that offered both protection from the sun as well as a perch from which to watch the blue herons as they peck at the sea floor at low tide. From this vantage, Peggy can watch the clouds pass as well as the ferry as it makes its hourly passage through the channel. Here is a photo of Peggy when she was discovered in her alcove:
Some detective work revealed that, later in the afternoon, when the tide rose, Peggy’s path back was flooded, which forced her to take a circuitous route home, with plenty of distractions along the way. Her roommates deemed this entire situation dicey and less than ideal. And so, the pathway to the beach was, regrettably, blocked for non-supervised canine usage. A brief period of house arrest followed for Peggy, but rest assured, ambling privileges were quickly restored.
Though the roommates would never tell her, it is impossible not to have a quiet admiration for Peggy’s summer escapes. After all, what is summer for, if not adventures, aimless wandering, and the feeling of a cool sea breeze through your fur?
Your faithful correspondent,
Charlie
I love these posts, and my heart lifts when they land in my email inbox. Especially now, when we've just lost the beloved dog who shared our home for thirteen years. As we come to grips with life without her, it's a balm to be able to share yours. Thank you,
you go get your life peggy!