Aug
15
One thing I was told about Miss Mabel Dawg is that despite being the barkiest of the breeds she was not in fact a barker. And you know, the first few weeks I had her, she was pretty dang quiet! But I will say now that she is a comfortable and confident little Ween she has Found Her Voice. It is a very very very very loud voice that is not only noisesome but shrill, designed to be heard from underground badger lairs and ignite human eardrums with a rusty lighter.
That is perhaps her most unfortunate quality because while she is a wildly clever little thing she also has fat rough-chop lines of crushed Adderall where certain brain cells should be. Every now and then she will catch sight of herself in a mirror and oh my GOD, the insanity. WHO IS THAT OTHER DOG?!??! THE ONE THAT IS IDENTICAL TO ME AND MY SURROUNDINGS IN EVERY WAY THEY MUST DIE BY SONIC WEAPONRY
Her other embarrassing quirk is how she behaves when new people come to the house. Dylan, her biological sibling, is the exception, she is used to him and does not act like a stage-12 weirdo, but other people get the intense Mabel treatment which is to be barked at in a frenzy then smothered in way too much attention while simultaneously having their shit wrecked or stolen. My sweet friend Patrice had her prescription sunglasses filched from her purse and chewed before either of us even realized. Other people must endure Mabel obsessively crawling into their lap, nibbling them, and basically trying to wear them as a skinsuit while also barking every time they get up, so it’s all kind of A LOT with visitors.
She is a hot mess really but god I love this dog, and I love how she and Billy have evolved into such a hilarious odd couple. Their behavior is endlessly entertaining to observe, a mix of nonstop wrestling and play-fighting with some moments of peace/tolerance/affection and partnered mischief. (Their big combo move is for Billy to knock something off the counter and then Mabel takes off with it.)
Mabel has certainly changed the dynamic with Billy, and I do sometimes miss the quieter just-us phase I had with him. I do my best to make sure he still gets individual attention, which sometimes just means putting him above Mabel’s leapzone for pettins. He also sleeps with me at night while Mabel is nearby in her crate. I think he does enjoy having a constant source of play, and while Mabel tends to be the more enthusiastic/annoying participant in their shenanigans, Billy can definitely give as good as he gets. He can also be a deeply hilarious instigator, darting at Mabel and then skittering away sideways in Halloween mode, or exploding out from under the bed to crocodile-roll her.
These are two extremely smart, affectionate, and high-demand pets, and they truly fill my life. I have not had a moment of loneliness with them in my house, and while that includes being able to go to the bathroom without someone or someones right at my feet or moaning outside the door, I would not trade it for anything. Sure, my home is always a mess now with toys and fur and Folexed carpet stains and I can’t have knickknacks or good furniture or houseplants, it’s logistically overwhelming and expensive to leave town for even one night, my bank account is routinely drained by vet bills and pet food, I am officially the crazy divorced lady with a giant cat and a tiny yappy dog, every article of clothing and shoes I own has been dragged around the house and nibbled, every time someone goes by the house barking ensues and I live on a fairly busy street, I can’t stay out for long without feeling like I need to come home to them, I cannot eat a single bite of food without two starving maniacs swarming me, Billy has ransacked my jewelry drawer so many times I can only find a couple matching earrings any more, and every time I open a door to the outside or the garage I have to figure out how to get one aging human body through the opening while simultaneously stopping two small lightning-fast shitweasels from escaping, but SOMEHOW, the pros outweigh the cons.
They are such different animals and such a sensory delight in their own way. Billy is as soft as a cloud, a giant downy duckfuzz fluffapotomus whose belly fur I can bury my face in. Mabel is a bony sleek creature like a baby deer with the softest ears and face, and never happier than when she is right up against me in some way. They both smell like bread and sunny dusty attics and fritos and afternoon naps. Sometimes when I am very very lucky I get to cuddle them both at the same time and it is the best feeling. I love them so fiercely, I’m so happy they are such a big part of my life.
I can’t imagine wanting to share my home with anyone else.
Aug
10
My paddleboard origin story starts with me reading a post from a women’s friend-making group I follow on Facebook. It was an event listing with info about kayak rentals at nearby Dexter Lake, and I decided to skip the event but go out and get myself a kayak and do some toodlin’. However, when I arrived it turns out all they had to rent was paddleboards, and I almost just got back in my car and left but then life-coached myself (“You drove all the way here! You have sunscreen on!”) into getting one and sort of tragiccomically hauled it to the water — hnnnnnngggggh — and plunked it in and looked around at all the other people sitting on their paddleboards and caaaarefully got on it and situated criss-cross-applesauce and then
I HAD THE BEST FOUR HOURS OF MY LIFE???
I have been on a paddleboard a few times before and had decided that while it looked very zen and cool, in reality the effort of keeping balance while standing was an all-consuming mid-to-extreme stressed-out vibe. However, if you just SIT on the dang thing, it is — as was sung in Aladdin during the magic carpet ride, on which, I will point out, they were sitting as opposed to trying to stand —a whole new world.
So I really enjoyed my time there that day and I rented one more time before deciding that I was going to take the plunge and buy my own. I bought one online based on a vague mix of vibes/price/reviews and then I scoured the comments for tips and also got an electric pump called a Hydro Hero.
(I did try inflating the board manually once just to see what that was like and I do not recommend it. By the time I was done I was EXHAUSTED, probably it’s a great workout but absolutely fuck that.)
This was about a month ago, and I have taken this board out on so many wonderful adventures! My friend Jodi introduced me to the Autzen canal, which is a local waterway that’s just a five-minute drive from my house. You park at the edge of a big mostly unused lot, get your gear set up next to the car, then hoof it through a little path to get on a narrow channel where you paddle upstream to a big opened-up pool next to Autzen stadium, and then you can go further to interesting neighborhoods with houses right next to the water. There’s all sorts of cool vegetation and extremely friendly ducks who come right up hoping for snacks, plus herons everywhere.
There’s Dexter lake where I got started, a very popular reservoir with lots of people and boats. About 30 minutes south is another reservoir called Dorena Lake that is less populated and more naturey-feeling, which I’ve been to twice now with the board. I also took myself to Clear Lake about 90 minutes up the McKenzie river, which was as advertised staggeringly clear and ice-cold and otherworldly shades of blue and teal.
I do practice standing now and then but for the most part I stay seated and it just feels very stable and comfortable. I can get deep pulls with the paddle that way and am able to maneuver pretty well, not as nimble as a kayak but enough to feel quite capable on the water.
And I think that’s the key word, capable. I feel like this paddleboard has unlocked a lot of deeply rewarding summer fun and also built myself up in some important ways. I mean, I know it is not in fact rocket science to be able to inflate and carry a thing but it feels like a Super Big Deal for me.
For most of my adult life I have relied on someone else to manage all the outdoorsy stuff I got to enjoy — the planning, the gear, the knowledge, nearly every aspect of the outing itself. I was literally a passenger, perched on the side of a raft or a ski lift. The cabin on the river with its little yellow kayaks and circling ospreys is no longer available to me. I had so many great times but not by my own accord and I was worried that I would lose so much of that.
And now I can go out on my own, my candy-apple-red Bronco easily carrying all the things I need. I deeply enjoy every bit of it — the satisfaction of my loud-ass pump transforming a pile of plastic into an actual magic carpet ride, the moment of pushing off into the water and being like goodbye land world, the fun and effort of the paddle, the peace of finding a spot to just lie flat on my back and feel the water and look up at the sky. The birds, the far-off boats, the bob and swell, the cold splashes and hot sunshine, it’s all so goddamned good.
I have all kinds of new muscles from this hobby. I can feel how it’s strengthened me from the inside out.
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