Avery and Catherine came to visit from Maryland.
Although their visit was not solely for the purpose of spending time with me, they were gratifyingly attentive.
On an evening hike to Inspiration Point, they were alert to species inequity -- I got water; everyone else got water and dinner -- and combatted it by dropping food to me.
Making it a much better picnic, from my standpoint.
Every couple of months our empty nesters group gets together. It was our turn to host.
Then it developed that Thomas and his colleague, Dusty, would be in town and staying with us that same weekend.
It was a party, through and through. My cup ranneth over.
In preparation for having the ladies from the Intergenerational Group over my owner moved my pillows from their usual spot on the sofa, so that I could cede the seating to our guests. Which I did, with an open heart because I welcome visitors.
But no one thought to put my pillows back after the guests had departed.
With important neighborhood observation to catch up on, I had to make do with the resources at hand: one measly pillow on the other sofa. It was uncomfortable and inadequate, but it was all I had.
After an excruciating delay, my family noticed, and reinstated my pillows.
Moments like these make me realize how dependent I am.
I met some foreign tourists at the bluff. Of course they had to take photos.
Why does everyone want to pose with me?
I guess I seem like the quintessential American.
Today being my blog's three-year anniversary, the tributes have been pouring in. This appreciation, "Poodle Saves Family", first appeared in the Midsight Crisis blog:
People often talk about how good it is for a family with school-age children to get a dog. It's supposed to teach the children responsibility and give them a companion.
And, as the mother of older children, I am aware that our dog, whom I infantilize shamelessly, fills my need for a little cuddlekins like my children used to be.
But until recently I never noticed that having a dog has a direct benefit for older adolescent boys and young adults. A teenager who would not be caught dead being soft or cuddly with other members of his family is not ashamed to melt over his dog. And, in a way, the dog has become a campfire for all of us: We can sit around and coo over him together, even when it's not appropriate for us to coo at each other any more.
To my family, I am the most important guy. I am the campfire.
Kate has been working on training her dogs. She is very diligent about it.
Ordinarily, I would not describe myself as having any interest in being trained. But whenever I see there are treats involved, I am struck by the compelling nature of Kate's work.
A dog-lover named Alejandro often comes to the bluffs looking for dogs he can play with. I know that I'm a disappointment to him, as I never really want to be played with, and only want one person--my owner--to pick me up. Thank goodness for Benny and Augie, who excel at dog-appropriate behavior.
Here's a photo of Alejandro being a good sport and letting his dad hold him in a Lambie-like pose next to me, also being held in a Lambie-like pose.
I wish I could be more of an outgoing guy for Alejandro, but it's just not my nature.
In the course of my research regarding the memorial bench brouhaha a couple of months ago, I had an opportunity to speak with Manny Glaser, who lives across the street from the bluffs. Though I knew, and had mentioned in my post about the Berman-Yoshpe bench, that Mr. Glaser is a longtime critic of dog owners who let their dogs go leashless at the bluff in violation of leash laws, until now I had not understood why he feels so strongly. Talking with him gave me food for thought.
Mr. Glaser's points, as I understand them, follow, along with my evaluation of each one:
1) The bluff is a people park. It is not a dog park. Mr. Glaser regrets that the Palisades doesn't have a dog park, but he emphasizes that the bottom line is that the Asilomar bluff is posted as requiring dogs to be on leashes.
My take: Mr. Glaser is accurate: Legally, this is not a dog park. Although, it is also true that laws sometimes lag behind changing social mores.
2) Mr. Glaser and the neighbors on each side of him, all of whom have dogs, are all frustrated because their own dogs become overexcited and bark constantly as they look out their windows at dogs across the street running wildly. (Here Mr. Glaser highlights in particular the people who use long ball-launchers to throw balls for their dogs to chase.) When Mr. Glaser is trying to work or to read, his dog is barking away. Mr. Glaser believes, as apparently also do his immediate neighbors, that the bluff is being hijacked in a way that frustrates their quiet enjoyment of their lives.
My take: Even if the dogs on the bluff were on-leash, the dogs looking out the window at them would be barking. As a sofa-sitter myself, I can attest that one's natural tendency is to bark when one sees a dog go by. If you live in front of a park, you're going to see a lot of activity.
3) The dogs who populate the bluff can be off-putting, in particular to older people who may be scared to walk there, and to young children. In particular, Mr. Glaser feels bad that when his Israeli grandchildren come to visit they have been leapt upon by very large dogs. Mr. Glaser says that in Israel dogs are not routinely kept as pets, so his grandchildren are frightened of these large and unrestrained dogs jumping on them when they go over to play on the bluff or even just to sit on a bench.
My take: This is a valid concern. Dog owners who bring their dogs to the bluff need to be more attentive, more sensitive, and more aware that not everyone else is as comfortable with their dogs as they are. I am thinking in particular of a few dog owners who have the nerve to take umbrage when asked whether or not their dog is friendly. The burden of proof is on the dog owner here. And rather than an unfortunately-titled 'one bite at the apple' rule, there should be no tolerance for any 'bites'. If a dog is possibly unreliable, that dog should not be on the bluff unless tightly leashed and supervised.
4) Dog owners do not always pay attention to their dogs, and thus may miss dog defecation which remains on the bluff and is like a minefield to persons such as Mr. Glaser who might want to walk on the bluff at night. Here Mr. Glaser identifies two categories of culprits: (a) People who come with their dogs to the bluff but may be socializing and miss seeing a poop occur; and (b) One particular neighbor, living a block from Mr. Glaser, whose dogs historically have crossed the street to the bluff while that neighbor stayed at home.
My take: This one is also a valid concern. The bluff isn't a forest; it's a public park where people like to walk. Anyone who repeatedly ignores their dog's defecation should not be permitted to return.
So, here we are. Mr. Glaser is certainly within his legal rights to complain, and some of his arguments are compelling. Is there a way to balance the concerns of the residents whose homes adjoin the bluffs with the desires of everyone else to come to the bluff and enjoy the sunset with their dogs?
Can dog owners stlll gather to socialize while keeping closer tabs on their pets? (I know... easy for me to suggest, since I have no desire to wander far from my owner and in an ideal world I would be carried by her at all times.)
Can the neighbor Mr. Glaser complains about better supervise her dogs?
Would the Glasers and their neighbors be OK with people gathering more decorously but minus the throwing balls?
Can bluff-goers police themselves better?
Can't we all just get along?
