Tag: dogs

Farewell to the Dowager Doberman

I have loved teasing you about your age, accusing you of being anywhere from 200 to 857 years old. But I admired you for hanging in there without trying to convince us you were 35. Sometimes it was a lot of work for you to drag your stiff old self out of those cozy blankets and do your part in guarding Green Acres and The Compound, but you did it. You suffered through the occasional indignity like diapers with a look that clearly said, You humans; what foolishness will you think of next? And even though you were never a cuddly dog, and there were some things that made you timid, you were always ready to stand still for a pat on the head and an ear scratch.

You were loyal and loving to Craig, and when he died last year, because your own health had been failing, most of us thought you’d soon follow. You stayed behind for more than a year, maybe because you knew you needed to teach some manners to those pups Sue and Minute, but also because you still had love and comfort to give to Lynne. You understood what Laura asked from you, and you will be missed by her and Jess, who you helped take from childhood to the fine man he is today. You were his friend for fifteen years!

You were unfailingly kind to Margot and Guinness, for which I will always be grateful. And you let Seig and Rex know that it’s best not to annoy a female of a certain age because nobody can quite put you in your place like a tough old broad.

We were happy to offer you River’s crate so you could have a safe place to sleep. Tim was glad to take care of you when Lynne traveled. (He told us how, when you thought no one was looking, you sometimes summoned up your inner puppy and played well with others.) And Margot was delighted to sneak onto your pillow whenever she found it empty during your visits to The Compound.

I personally will always think of you under Lynne’s oversized, glass-topped coffee table, where you could keep an eye on everything and feel safe from the frisky dogs and many feet to be found in a home that is always open with warmth and welcome to friends and neighbors. I will think of feeding you by hand whenever I had the care of you. Yeah, I knew you were pulling a fast one on me, but I loved those quiet minutes just the two of us spent together, me talking, you listening and offering wisdom in a way dogs can.

Goodbye, Greta. I celebrate your living and the best of the spirit in you. I take comfort that you’re out of pain and “now you’re sleeping peaceful.”


Greta, Craig’s Dog
Companion to Lynne, Jess, Laura, Sparky, Minute, Seig, and Sue
Run free with Heidi, Hershey, Bubba, Pete, Stevie, and River

One of my heroes

When Tom, Amy, and I went to Washington, D.C. in October 1996 as volunteers for what has been (to date) the last full display of the NAMES panels of the AIDS Memorial Quilt, there were several sites on our agenda to visit. We stayed in Georgetown (it was lovely) and used cabs (more expensive than New York) and the excellent subway system to get into, out of, and around the city. High points of the sightseeing part of our trip were the various memorials (Lincoln, Jefferson, Washington monument, the graves of the two Kennedys at Arlington, the Korean and Vietnam war memorials), the capitol, the White House, and several museums (historical and art).

It was in Washington that we discovered the marvels of Streetwise Maps. As helpful as the maps were, we also found that any time we stopped to study one, locals would also stop and ask us if they could help us find our destination. Never was “the kindness of strangers” more apparent than during those few very cold but magical days in the capital.

There was one place in particular that I wanted to go, and in those pre-Internet days, finding it presented a bit of a challenge. Fortunately, one of Amy’s Streetwise Maps came through for us. The place was the Congressional Cemetery. It was tucked away in what we were warned was a less than ideal neighborhood. We emerged from the subway in the late afternoon to find that the cemetery was a farther walk than we’d realized. It was cold, the sunlight was fading, and gray clouds threatened a drizzle. But Amy and Tom knew this was important to me, so they gamely kept going.
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Button Sunday

The first Pride that Margot and Guinness were with us, Tom and I took them to the parade just as we had Stevie and Pete in years past. Big mistake. Guinness was fine with it, but Margot was terrified. We hadn’t known until then that loud noises–like say, Dykes on Bikes and sirens–scared her, because she hadn’t yet started to show her fear of thunder. Lesson learned. No more Pride for the girls.

Last year, Tom was exhausted on that Saturday, so he stayed home with all the dogs while Tim and I walked to the parade and met up with Rhonda and Lindsey. This year, Tom went with Rhonda and Lindsey, and Tim and I planned to catch up with them later. I asked Tim if Rex could go, and he seemed a little iffy about it. So while Tim was getting ready, Rex and I did a little something to show him that Rex really, really felt proud:

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Saturday in the park…sort of…

I woke early this morning feeling like hammered wolf crap. So I did what any sensible person would do. I got up, brushed my teeth, applied a clay mask to my face and cucumber slices to my tired eyes, and went back to bed. I vaguely remember hearing Tom say, “No, Guinness. That’s not a doggie snack.” She must have listened because the slices were still there when I woke up later to chisel the plaster from my face.

After officially getting up, showering, etc., I was drinking coffee (in my Starbucks travel tumbler; too generic to photograph) and taking a break from Coventry when it occurred to me that a couple of weeks ago, I was sitting in a Starbucks on Columbus Avenue, cursing the gods of wireless disconnections. In honor of that memory, it seems like a good time to publish the rest of my New York photos.

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