Mama’s friend asked me once, “is this one of your favorite toys?”
In my Russian voice, I replied, “Does it still have its eyes? Are the ears still intact? Da? Does it have cloth patches? Nyet? then the answer is No.”
Daddy should have never let me watch the Wire with him.
Scylla and Charybdis are no match for my puppy powers. I slay thee with my sweet smile and bright eyes.
Trolls, on the other hand, are no laughing matter. One time, Daddy, Mama and I were walking along the trails. It is literally called “The Trails.” An evening walk. Perhaps that was our mistake.
It was warm that evening so Daddy took off his sweater and wrapped it around his waist. As we walked, we chatted about worldly things – if a golden gets a skin graft from a Dalmatian, would he get spots or would it turn golden? Is the euro debt crisis over or is this just the beginning? Should the Rule against perpetuities be abolished?
Halfway through our walk, Daddy got a little chilly. To his surprise, Daddy noticed that the sweater around his waist was gone. Ah… Diabolical … A quick look to the right and a lingering look to the left — yet there was no sign of Daddy’s sweater. Instead, there was only a bridge; an innocent looking bridge that we walked by many times without giving it a second glance.
Daddy didn’t notice the bridge. Instead, we turned around to see if we could find the sweater. Mama suspected that it must have fell and it was now lying on the floor. Although we searched diligently, we saw nothing except a lady with a baby stroller.
I couldn’t look into the stroller basket because I was too short.
Did she take Daddy’s sweater? But why? It was not a name brand sweater. Worth $20 at most. Would she bring a baby stroller just on the off chance that Daddy would drop his sweater? Highly unlikely.
No. It must be something else. More sinister. More conniving. “We must search the bridge,” I told Daddy and Mama. But all they heard was, “hhhrm hhrrm hrrm hrrm.”
Sometimes I wish they taught me sign language.
The world would be better place if more people learned to love people and use things – not use people and love things.
You may have heard of the famous book titled “To Kill A Mockingbird.” If mama were to write a book about springtime in Vegas, she would call it “When Mockingbirds Kill.” It would be a story filled with lots drama, near death experiences, and ultimate triumph!
This time of the year is hatching season for the mockingbirds in town. As new baby birds are born, their mamas can be awfully protective of their nests.
I remember the first time many years ago when a mockingbird first tried to kill me and mama. It was a fine spring evening, just before sunset. As we were admiring the streaks of color across the sky and taking in the serenity of it all, a bird swoops down out of the blue and starts flying and squawking all about my back area. Since it was around my back, I didn’t notice anything going on, and merrily kept walking.
But then I see mama using the end of my leash to swat at a bird that’s swooping over me.
The bird keeps hovering around us, not deterred by the leash at all and determined for blood.
Mama suddenly yells “Run P Run!”
Next thing mama and I are running full speed down the street. When we get to the end of the block, we see a couple staring at us like we are nuts. Mama was a little embarrassed afterwards, and pretended like nothing unusual just happened. We look back at the couple, who were passing the very place where the mockingbird tried to kill us, and nothing happened to them. No assassin bird came after them. Huh, very strange.
When we get home, we tell daddy what happened, but daddy didn’t think it was a big deal and mama suspected that daddy thought we made the whole story up. Mama and I, however, tried not to walk down that same street again.
As we moved into our new house in a new neighborhood a few years later, we had more brushes with death. Every day, we’d walk around the neighborhood loop which was about a mile long. In the middle of the loop, there’s a nice grassy area with lots of trees and a sheltered bench to sit and chat.
As I was romping on the grass, a bird swoops down and squawks over me. Mama tries to swat it away and mutters at it “Will you quit that!” But it’s no use. The bird won’t let up, and keeps attacking us.
I hear mama’s voice yell “Run P Run!” and next thing I know, we’re running full speed down the street again.
That was during springtime, and marked the beginning of several kamikaze bird attacks for us that year. We found ourselves running like the wind, away from dive bombing birds, many times. What onlookers thought when they saw us, a grown woman and her goldie running like mad down the street, who knows.
Even though mama knew that the birds were just trying to protect their babies, mama felt she also had the right to protect her own baby from being attacked. Mama hatched many ideas:
The first three ideas were rejected because mama didn’t want to harm any birds. And the last one was a no go because she figured it would look very conspicuous if we walked around with an open umbrella, and it wasn’t raining.
Walking under an umbrella on a sunny day = too conspicuous.
Meanwhile, the mockingbirds became more aggressive. Instead of swooping down from a tall tree as we passed a hidden nest, they would perch ahead of time on a low lying ledge. It felt like they were just waiting for us to come along, then attack! One morning, we saw a bird fly down and land on a side ledge that we’d have to pass up ahead. The bird had a mean aura about her, and kept flipping it’s tail in the air. No doubt about it, that bird was trying to ambush us! If you’ve ever walked to school and had the neighborhood bully lurk around the corner, just to jump you for your lunch money, you’ll know the feeling of dread we felt.
Mama wasn’t letting any bully steal our lunch money, so she scooped me up in her arms, and we waited for cars to pass on the street before crossing over.
One lady who was jogging on the other side of the street, stopped in her tracks, and yelled over “Is your dog okay?”
As mama still carried me in her arms, I yelled back “I’m okay lady!”
I guess people thought it strange to see a woman carrying her 65lb golden retriever across the street, but mama and I were able to safely cross the street and foil that evil bird’s plan to kill us. We lived to fight another day! If I could make a fist with my paw, I would shake it in the air at that bird in triumph.
Mama and I kept racking our brains for ideas because every time we got attacked, which became more often, mama’s heart would go boom boom boom. We discussed many ideas together, but for one reason or another, had to reject most of them. One day she came across an idea as she was reading about how gardeners would hang strips of silver foil on trees to keep away birds and crows from eating the fruits. Finally, we stumbled upon a viable weapon!
Mama wears a white wide-brimmed hat whenever we go walking, so she wrapped a big strip of silver metallic ribbon across the brim and let long strands of it hang off the back for extra measure. The moment of truth came when we walked across the first spot in our path where many past attacks have taken place.
Armed with our silver be-ribonned hat, I yelled “Now, mama now!”
Surrounded by many trees, we walk into a possible multi bird ambush. “Quickly mama! Use the hat!”
Mama shook her head vigorously from side to side so the sun would reflect off the silver and repel the birds. We waited to see if it worked. There was no attack. We didn’t have to run full speed down the street. It worked, and victory was ours! Since mama started wearing her silver ribbonned hat, we haven’t been attacked once.
Mama and I walked happily ever after… The End.
P’s life lesson: In times of war, look for peace. There is often a peaceful solution if you have the patience and willingness to find it. Also, when a bird dive bombs you and you are without your own silver be-ribboned hat, don’t be too embarrassed to run like the wind!
It was about 10 years ago this very month that daddy, mama, and I became a family – or as mama likes to say, three peas in a pod. Daddy and mama remember that day as if it were yesterday; as if the love they felt that day was like a brush that painted a lasting and infinitely dear memory on their hearts. Mama says that that day was one of the happiest of her life. Daddy and I remember how she smiled such a big smile that whole day, so it must be true.
The day started out like any other. The sun came up as it always does, and I gave a big yawn as my small eyes opened to another beautiful, sunny day in Rosamond, CA. I was still a puppy then, only 4 months old and weighing 16 pounds – pea-sized for a golden. All of my litter mates had already gotten adopted and left with families, until I was the only one left. I was a small boy, and it seemed that everyone wanted a big golden. Mama says I was saved for them, and they were saved for me, and that we were meant to be a family.
I knew something was up that day. The house was in a big commotion with everybody running around.
“Someone is coming to visit today, I just know it! Wait a minute… wait a minute… what’s going on?! I don’t want a bath! I’ll be much too busy entertaining guests today!” I said as I was unwillfully plunked into the kitchen sink.
My first view of daddy and mama as they came into the house was from the inside of the kitchen sink, soaped up with dripping wet fur. Even as a puppy, I was a sensitive boy, and I tell you this was an insult to my sensitive nature.
“Don’t look at me!” I cried, and they thankfully looked away quickly.
Once the indignity of the bath was over, and my paws were on solid ground again, I was in the mood to play and impress. My father and grandfather were champion dogs – entertainment was in my blood.
There was a stuffed duck that I loved, and I ran and ran around the couch with it in my mouth at full puppy speed until I got dizzy. I could hear everyone laughing as they watched. Then I stopped in front of daddy and dropped the duck in his lap.
“I choose you Pikachu!”
Three seconds pass.
“Okay, 3 second rule – time’s up!”
Daddy threw the toy for me and I ran after it again. I liked daddy right away – he already knew my three second rule.
All that running made me thirsty, so I stole a sip from the cats’ water bowl – their water seemed so much tastier than mine. They’d hiss and spit, and I’d run away laughing. One cat got so mad she angrily raked her scratching post after, and pieces of cardboard went flying off it. It was lots of fun playing with those cats.
When mama was signing the adoption papers, I was sitting quietly underneath the dining table. Daddy crouched down underneath the table with me, and gently put a collar no bigger than a cat sized one around my neck. It had a name on it – P! I didn’t have a name before – only green boy because that was the color of my ribbon when I was born. Now I had a name, and I was going home with a family!
Riding in daddy’s old honda civic (picture taken before I threw up all over).
On the ride home, mama sat in the back seat with me and kept smiling and smiling. Whenever daddy looked in his rear view mirror, he’d see mama smiling the biggest smile that went all the way up to her eyes, which sparkled with happiness. I rarely rode in a car before, and the ride made me nauseous. I threw up two times on the way home. Mama jokingly thought that green boy was a fitting name for me.
When we got home, there were brand new toys for me to play with. One of my favorite games was running after a red rubber ball that mama and daddy threw to each other, and I’d run in the middle after it. My tail was wagging in a crazy loop nonstop, I was having such fun. I didn’t want to stop playing, but I had to go potty all of a sudden. Daddy saw my confused face, and opened the back door. Daddy already knew my special language. I ran to the yard to pee, then went back in to play again. Let the good times roll again!
You can see my red rubber ball on the right.
In those early days, mama and daddy and I spent most of our time together in the dining room, which had lots of tile just in case I had an accident. There were soft rugs to sleep on, and I’d nap most of the day in the cozy crook of daddy’s arm. We spent almost all of our time together, just like three peas in a pod, and I was happy.
P’s life lesson: Look past the surface and into the soul of someone; you may just find a very special treasure inside. When everyone else passed me over, mama and daddy saw something special in me, and I in them; and a love that forever bound our hearts together was born.