Thaw

I intended my next blog entry to be titled "Depression, Aggression, Regression" - all of which have been recurring themes in the life of Urban Adventure Dog and Olivia Sage over the past two wintry weeks. But then, I decided on "Thaw."

The inspiration for this change was a hike we took this morning at Chase Farm in Lincoln, Rhode Island. It's a place we go often. Especially this winter, it has served as a source of inspiration. It's a public place, but you can tell that a long time ago it was someone's farm. Shamus and I walk the perimeter, and I imagine that it's my farm - that it's our responsibility to walk that fence line as a farmer of old might have done. In the winter, the farm was splendid - rolling hills covered with whiteness, pine trees decorated with more of the same. And it was often abandoned, or almost so, except for a fellow dog walker. It was more beautiful than it was today.

Today, Chase Farm's dominant color was murky brownish-green, and mud came up nearly to my ankles in places. And it smelled like spring, but also like marsh. And there were more people and more dogs. And the pond was melting around its edges. Thaw.

The thaw seemed to bring scents alive for Urban Adventure Dog, and reminded me that spring is coming.

Famous Shamus and his February Adventures

This month, I owe the Urban Adventure Dog some gratitude. This is the worst winter I can remember, at least in the last five years or so, and it can be a struggle to get up and go teach classes or tutor my students or even to go to the movies with Ace.

Despite the bitter cold and slippery streets, Urban Adventure Dog (Shamus) still wants to be out and about, patrolling his block. In fact, I've noticed that the colder it is, the more Shamus seems to want to be out there - enjoying what I imagine are fresh scents augmented by the cold air. And, good dog though he is, he is simply restless inside my apartment at this point in the winter, for example leaping OVER the couch when I call him to dinner instead of running around it.

Since I started this blog, I've noticed what an effect Shamus has on people. He walks down the block smiling, his body shaking with the excitement of being out. People glance from cars and smile at him. Pedestrians ask me if they can pet him. They look out from under umbrellas and ask, "What's his name?" There have even been diners at Broadway Bistro who have seen him through the window and come outside to pet him - a family of three getting up and leaving their gourmet dishes to cool at the table, just so they could pet Shamus. His super-dog vibe must really be shining through these days. (The Bistro, by the way, is one of my favorite neighborhood restaurants, and their amazing website features a black lab, who in real life, is one of Urban Adventure Dog's neighborhood pals. Check it out! The website and the restaurant!)

Just yesterday, I was walking around the block and a heavy set, dread-locked woman who I've never met or seen before, took a step backwards when she saw Shamus, looked at me, and said loudly, "He walkin' like he the man." It's almost as if this dog knows I'm writing about him, knows that he's accruing fame and fans. His attitude reflects it!

Often, the old men who walk up and down Atwells in literally any weather, and sit outside the store fronts on nicer days, will comment on how cute Shamus is or try to talk to him. Sample conversation:

Old man: He looks like a good dog. Hey, doggie.

Olivia Sage: Oh, yes, he's the best dog.

Shamus: (pees on a trash can)

Olivia Sage: (nods towards peeing dog) He thinks this whole neighborhood is his territory.

Old man: (first appears stunned that we are talking about pee before recovering to make witty comment) I know some guys like that. Heh. Heh. Heh.

So, I owe Urban Adventure Dog some gratitude, partly because he gets me out and moving around even in the worst weather, and partly because being out and about all the time makes me interact with my neighbors in a more positive and frequent manner.

Side note: The beachy picture of Shamus above was taken on Valentine's Day at Watch Hill in Westerly, Rhode Island. This is one of the best dog hikes that I know in RI. I always walk down the rocky bay side of the peninsula, and then back on the sandy beach side. It's just about three miles and Shamus and I have been going there since he was a pup. The crazy dog was in the water on Valentine's Day.

Side note #2: I didn't know much about blogging, and I didn't realize you were supposed to write frequently. So, check back often, much more Urban Adventure Dog is on the way, much more often.

Meet Urban Adventure Dog

We all need to think of ourselves as heroes in our own life stories, at least from time to time. And every hero needs a sidekick, a confidant, a partner in the adventure. Mine is Shamus, the Urban Adventure Dog.

Be warned: this is not Chicken Soup for the Dog Lover's Soul. Much of my blog may involve poop on a sidewalk. This is a story of moving on - and moving in - to a city, with the Urban Adventure Dog by my side. It's a story of adjustment, of learning to walk new streets, face new fears, mark new territory. It's also a story, like most great adventures, that involves proving myself at the same time that I learn - I can't do this alone. It's a story of not doing it on my own.

Having a big dog in a city is a two-sided coin: I glean a feeling of safety because I believe he would protect me - and perhaps more importantly because other people believe he would. On the other hand, having a dog means having to walk city blocks - four times a day at least, and often in the dark and in the inclement weather and when I'm sick with the flu. Without Shamus, I could have avoided facing a lot of fears.

So, how did this ordinary, reddish-brown Golden Retriever - German Sheppard mix go from being called by the relatively down-to-earth dog name Shamus to revealing his true superhero identity: Urban Adventure Dog? It happened one day a couple of weeks ago. It was at the end of a winter storm. Providence had gotten pummeled with ten inches of snow, which had given way to freezing rain, and finally to sleet-rain mix. We went out for our morning walk and Shamus promptly lunged to pee on a snow bank, pulling me over, onto my side, on the slick, wet, icy cold sidewalk. I stood up, soaking wet and angry with him, and tried to walk him further. In front of us were snowbanks, beneath our feet was ice; slush was being splashed on us as cars went by on the road. It was misery. I looked at him. He wagged his tail.

We tried to keep walking, approaching dark, slushy puddles that had the sheen of gasoline on them. "Up," I told him, using words from our former pre-agility class. To my surprise, he responded to my command and jumped the puddles. Always, this dog shows heart. We tried and tried to find a place for him to poo. It seemed every time he found a spot, a car went by and splashed him. Finally, I took shelter behind a pizza place, beside a dumpster, and held my umbrella over him so that he'd relax enough to complete the task at hand. He did it. This made him my momentary hero. In fact, it gave me the feeling that he and I were both heroes of sorts, survivors, making our way together through an unpredictable and often uncomfortable world, solving problems. We went home through the rain and the slush, leaping snow banks, passing other unfortunate pedestrians and giving them a nod and a tail wag. At home I dried him off, stared into his brown eyes, and said, "I'm proud of you, Urban Adventure Dog." A name, a theme, a way of life, was born.

PS: If you love incredible dog stories (of which the above was definitely an example), you should check out this You Tube clip