Emergency Sunday: Trooper Gets His Teeth Pulled

Trooper went back to the vet today, this time for a big teeth extraction: 21 to be exact. Ouch.

At the river, a happy dog, except for his teeth.

I didn't know it was an emergency, until I got a vet update. She told me it was the worst she has seen in a while. (I won't tell you the icky details. Really, you don't want to know). But when she said twenty-one teeth came out, all I could think of is, are there any left? The answer is yes, but not many.

Uber icky, one of TWENTY ONE that came out today.

The good news is--YES, THERE IS GOOD NEWS!  He's out of surgery and in recovery. *Whew*

The not-so-good news is the bill is twice the original quote, now, at an estimated $850, or what I like to call: rent.

Holy, bejeezus.


And, they won't take payments, or checks--in very tiny print. OYE VEY. *Fans myself*

Trooper saying thank you.

So, I've added a PayPal donation widget. Donate if you can. Every dollar helps, truly. We appreciate from the bottom of our furry little hearts.
Thank you, d xo
P.S. Donaters will receive 20% off ANYTHING you might want at Dahlila Found or Scout & Rescue.
thru April 2012.

DIY: Vintage Tissue Box Plant Hanger

Every once in a while I buy pieces that I think are fabulous, but then don't sell. Enter the vIntage tin floral tissue boxes. I thought they were darling, but seriously this one looks better here in the garden. (If it doesn't sell, well make something else out of it, right?)

How I made it:

1. I packed the sides and bottom w/that coconut brush stuffing made for hanging plants (Easy to find at any gardening store or Home Depot).

2. Fill with a good moisture holding soil--I got it straight from my compost. Lots of nutrients.

3. The tricky part was getting the sedums inside the basket. Luckily the sides were open and last fall the plants were smaller. (See through the mesh? The Hens & Chicks have grown!) The long hanging sedum, I think, is Burro's tail, but don't quote me on that. There are a variety of hanging sedums and I am no expert. I mostly like them because they are very easy to grow with very little water.

A bit easier to see the inside.

4. So, mix and match your plants. See a cluster of sedums while out walking in your neighborhood? Snap off a small piece (perhaps, ask first...your call) and push it gently into the dirt. They sprout roots are their own. No fuss, no mess. My kind of plant.

Close up: the "box" is getting rusty. I'll add more plants. It's an ever-changing garden.

5. Oh, and the vintage tissue basket? Try something else. A metal pasta strainer, a stray chipped bowl, bucket. I even saw an old leather boot once with sedums poking out the toes!

6. Most importantly: have fun and share! Show me what you've made.

d,  xo
Scout and Rescue

Bath Boy

Trooper, a week late on his bath.

All bundled up now and getting warm. What a fuzz ball. d xo

Belay On: Deaf Dog Safety

In rock climbing there's an incredibly important question all climbers ask their partners before they ascend a  wall: "On belay?" The climber is asking her partner, are you clipped in, anchored down, is your harness solid, do you have the rope, am I safe in your hands if I should fall? When her partner is all good to go, the answer is "belay on"--you are safe in my hands, "Climb on."

Trooper's one month anniversary of being found rolled by so quickly I didn't notice 'til three days after. It came; it went. We are here. The honeymoon is over. The lost dog became the found dog, the new dog, our dog, and now just Trooper: little guy. Also, Trooper, stop barking! Stop pulling! Come here! Which is an absurd conversation to have with a deaf dog, but that's another post.

Trooper, thy name is mischief.

So, we are comfortable, settling in, and that's about the time someone (me) might get laxed, not close the door "for just a second while I grab something", or look away at birds, clouds, my thoughts, while Trooper goes left and I find him to my right. It's exactly the time I should be ready, aware, "belay on" when I'm "off belay".

I admit I am the last person prepared for much of anything. Thinking too far ahead just causes me panic. Today, is about all I've got room for, but making sure Trooper, the little deaf dog--who blends in with the leafy scenery--does not vanish because I'm not paying attention, is a today issue, every single day.

Things that help & they might help you too:

1) Trooper wears his collar always with 3 different phone numbers on two tags. (Tomorrow he's getting chipped). Zephyr too.

Zephyr, lounging in the yard, has escaped many times. He's got tags galore.

2) Two dogs, two leashes, coffee, dog bags, purse, hat, gloves--leads to "holy, crap! I dropped a leash!" so Trooper is always clipped in. If I swap leashes on him, it's "clip in, then clip out" in my head--rock climbing rule #2. So, if I drop his leash, and I have, he's clipped into my belt with a carabiner.

Carabiner, the dog walkers best friend.

3) Unless we are in the park, Trooper stays on a short leash. I love the extend-o-leashes, but on a narrow sidewalk they are too difficult to retract in a hurry.

On a short leash.

4) Trooper pretty much always wears his little orange vest. Escape artist is his middle name. He still yearns to hit the road a dozen times a day. If that should happen--god forbid--he's a lot easier to spot looking like a safety cone.

Hello, I'm a crossing guard.



5) Eyes open and alert is the best recipe for any dog walk. From my experience, something will always happen, something you could never see coming--Zephyr running into a coyote warren in the bushes, Zephyr getting body slammed by the owner of a dog who attacked him, Shadow falling out the jeep window as I braked, Zephyr hitting the dash board for the same reason. Car harnesses, harnesses, harnesses. Live and learn.

I am learning to be prepared the very best I can. I adore my dogs. I don't want anything, ever, to happen to them. Life is happening all around us! Belay on!

d, xo

Miriam Haskell Earrings: The Family Theatrics

I finally sold the Miriam Haskell earrings, and I am truly pleased. It turns out they are gift for some one's daughter, how lovely. I could not resist adding this "family tale" in the package. Spectacular stories such as this one, really should be passed on with them. :-)

"Dear C,
I wanted to share this small bit of flamboyant history about the earrings, just in case it might interest you.

The Miriam Haskell earrings were a gift to my very elegant grandmother from her very handsome, but sly & swarthy 2nd husband, a “tycoon” of sorts from Los Angeles. They met in Hawaii in the late 50s and dazzled her off her after she had fled her forlorn life, a mere year after losing her first husband.

He was incredibly handsome, but a terrible cad. My grandmother, years later, told me a story that as a young man in high school, he was friends with the famous writer Lillian Hellman. The two of them, each with their own vehicle--one a Rolls-Royce, the other a fire truck raced each other to school.

I have no idea if the story is true or not, but I have always remembered it, and it is quite a tale to remember.

Enjoy the earrings. They have been tucked away in my jewelry box for over 25 years. ;-)

D. xo

Nap Time

From the very beginning, little guy (Trooper) has been a good napper. And I am all for dog naps. Sometimes, it's the only way I get any work done. Amen. 

Trooper's first trip to the river, crashed out in his basket. Snooze central.

Coming home from Nana's for Christmas in the jeep. Seven people, four dogs, food, running around the house, dog walks, and one last stop at Machado's apple orchard for pie and one last pee break walk on the way home. Zzzzz.

Fresh out of a bath, and a blow dry; not so much a nap as me burying him in blankets for warmth. Still, sleep came soon.

He woke up just as I was going in for this shot. He may not hear but he knows.

Today, a blustery sunny day, we walked several miles along the river. We took the low trail, along the water, through the Cottonwood trees on damp grown, over down branches, through dense grass up along the trail. Trooper followed along and worked to keep up with Zephyr, the trail leader, who waits, patiently for us. Now, crashed out by my computer in the sunny window. Sweet dreams, little guy.

d, xo

Scout and Rescue

If you haven't been around--or if I haven't been advertising enough--most likely the later, I have a second shop now, Scout and Rescue, vintage home decor, kitchenware, garden paraphinella. It's mostly a great excuse for me to buy a different variety of vintage--I do love kitchenware--that doesn't really blend in well with the cute shoes and flowy scarves at Dahlila Found. So, check it out!



Meanwhile, who are the couple in the photo, you're asking? These two very, very young cuties are my parents, years before they had me, years before they were even married. Age: 15-16, I think.

I ADORE this photo, so it's my shop picture. Because, in the grand scheme of things, my family, all of us, together or separately, our motto could easily be: scout and/or rescue. ;-)

p.s. Dad loved to fly fish. Motto: eat what you catch or release them back to the river. Yay, dad.

d, xo

Where Did the Vintage Go?

So sorry. You came here for vintage and lately all you're seeing is this furry little dog. What's up?

Well, my regular life blog over on WebPress was botching up. I couldn't add the Chip In donation button, so I had to bring it all over here. If you love dogs, that may be great, but if you're looking for vintage, I'm so sorry. Sometimes, life just throws stuff at you and you have to work with it, or play with it. Or, bring it home and love it to pieces, like I've done with little guy--oh, er, Trooper, his new name. :-)

In the meantime, here. Look at the pretty vintage jewelry. It's rare, beautiful, expensive, and I found it in my granny's train trunk.

Say, ooh, aah. And I'll find you some more bobbles to look at again very soon.

d xo

p.s Dahlila Found is stocked to the gills. Surely there must be something there you can't resist. ;-)

Lost Dog, Found Dog: 3 Weeks In

I have a dog...another dog, a second dog. I have TWO DOGS.

Sometimes, I still can't believe he is a dog, but it's been three weeks and so much has happened since that very dark, cold night on December 6th. If you haven't heard, while out walking Zephyr, I found this animal scurrying down a leafy gutter.

I took this photo (above) the day after I found "the lost dog" states the .jpg title on this photo. He was headed for the pound--says me. Uh-huh, sure.

This is "the little guy" (above) one week later...

I was just "fostering him" and (below) keeping up with Zephyr through the leaves. Zephyr's been a great sport about this fostering business, because it's not forever, right?

And two weeks later...coming back from mom's in the foothills, stopping to get apple pie and take a walk in the orchard at Machados, my favorite road stop.

Going for broke in the orchard. The little guy was getting healthier and a lot faster. Now, dad calls him Zippy, but I still haven't found a name.

And by week two and a half, I was the only one who wasn't clear where little guy was living for good. Below, showing off his "night-walking jacket". Seriously, I wish it glowed and had blinkers.

This is the dog the vet dubbed "aggressive and unadoptable" making quick friends with a big shepherd at the dog park. We later learn little guy is completely deaf.

Zephyr, bless his patient heart, has put up with little guy even when he wants to run and hide from him.

Eventually, I gave in.

Zephyr is giving in.

Even my parents, friends and neighbors have given in. ;-)

And what an adventure one turn of the night has taken us: Little guy has been to FOUR vets, has been medicated, diagnosed, poked, prodded, washed more times in three weeks than Zephyr has in the last year. He's visited two pet stores, has two coats, rides in the jeep, in the basket, out of the basket, in my arms. He's been in Starbucks--and kicked out of Starbucks (nicely) and has been warmly welcomed in by family at Christmas, even when he peed on the floor, a few times.

Week three...23 days later, this is our family.

And, although we have tried out dozens of names--Possum, Scout, Rusty, RuDolpho, Ugg--what my step-father calls him, Zippy--what my dad calls him, Gutter--what the guy at the SPCA named him,  Butterscotch, Domino, my nieces great finds, I have FINALLY come up with a name that is sticky: Trooper.

Trooper is what my dad called me when I was a kid, if I helped stack the wood, shovel the deck, kept up on a hike. It's what little guy does every day to keep up with Zephyr.

I will continue to call him little guy, but now, instead of "lost dog" on the vet papers, it will state clearly, Trooper.

d, xo

Dad Christmas

Dad & I have a ritual, we meet for coffee Christmas morning at Espresso Metro--traditionally the only coffee house open in our neighborhood.  We know the owner, who brings her kids. All the regulars show up. My ex works there--I asked him if I could wish the anarchist a Merry Christmas, he obliged. :)

The sun was straining through the fog all morning but it cleared enough that we could take our coffee to the park across the street--We have our glass mugs, plate of coissants and cream cheese baguettes.

We have a no-presents pack and usually I'm the one to break it, but we agreed little guy was Christmas this year. Dad, however, surprised me with a Starbucks card (!). "It isn't a present," he said. "It's maintenance." I laughed, because, as you know, it's exactly what I needed. Thank you, dad. Coffee's on me!

Zephyr hates it immensely, but I put his red sweater on for the occassion. They're staring at little guy with curiosity, still.

Dad talking to little guy, whom he still finds hilarious.

And here's our new pack of 2 1/4. Merry Christmas, good tidings and a beautiful day to all.

d, xo

A Vintage Family Christmas

Folks on Twitter are posting #childhoodchristmas and I had to join in. These are a few of my very favorite winter photos, growing up in the deep white snow. :-) 



 Dad plowing the driveway in the old scout with Boomer hanging out in the snow (note: mom was WAY better at plowing, as dad always hit the garage divider when the scout slid down our steep drive. Boom! Mom was a rocking plow gal. Also, I learned to drive in the scout). 

My first, and second to last, ski race. Alpine Meadows, 1972. Dig the outfit. 

No one can agree on what year this is, but I'm probably 13-15 years old. This may be the year I HAD to cut down the tree with an AXE...just me and my best friend...in a snowstorm.  The axe failed. We ended with a saw. It took us HOURS. Crazy kids.

That's it for this Christmas eve. Off to the yearly family party, parents and all. Merry Christmas!

d, xo

Little Guy: Dental, Earaches & Hope

So, I find this little dog and my whole life gets flipped for a loop--Zephyr's too, poor guy--but that's how life works. It's okay--or, it will be okay, or it is depending on how I look at it--the glass is half empty or half full. And people have been SO GENEROUS. I'm floored by it all, but not used to the flurry, commotion, attention, distraction, the whole EVENT of it all, I just haven't caught my breath yet.



Last night, at 3am, Zephyr and I were startled awake by little guy yowling from his box. I ran downstairs to find him all agitated. I took him outside, not much help. He was all in a dither, scratching his ears and wobbling.

I took him back to the vet today, way out in the burbs--the vet I was going to specifically for a dental overhaul CONSULTATION. Alas, 30 minutes later we had a mass ear infection diagnosis plus an extensive dental layout. We walked out with a boat load of meds: TrizUltra + Keto: ear cleaning fluid, Mometamax: a steroid, I think, Biomax: an antibiotic and Tramadol for pain. Ka-ching: $140. There goes Christmas.

 Plus, the dental estimate which ranges from an absolutely easy-peasy surgery at $195 to the most extensive teeth extractions, neuter and prolonged anesthesia at a conservative $473. Please lord, pass the wine...

As the honeymoon of finding little guy wears down and the cost goes up, I am settling into my former panic--bills, bills, bills, rent, and, oh, Christmas. My niece is the only one receiving this year and I feel shitty about that. I'm having a bad-grown up moment. Then I think of my niece and how she'd give up a present for little guy because she adores him, even though she's only met him once so far.

I have to remember--over, over and over--that the universe has been incredibly generous. Strangers have donated money, kind wishes, encouragement, direction, dog treats and good comfort. I look in the mirror, again and again, repeat with shaky will: I AM BLESSED.

d, xo

Big Day, Big Hearts, Big Dog Park

We had a big day. Little guy was wheezing and scratching his ears. It was time to go to the SPCA and see what help they could give us.

There, we met Bobby (cute young guy with floppy bangs who was very sweet and helpful).  He named little guy, Gutter--since that's were I found him--but no. I'm not naming him Gutter. Bobby took little guy to see the vet and get some more info. on his conditions:

1) His eye is not a cataract but something called "nuclear sclerosis" similar, but not the same.

2) His teeth are bad but not so awful there's no repair bad, she believes.

3) Little guy definitely needs to be neutered, but also they don't want to do it, because of his age, he needs blood work done before hand for his own safety. Good to know.

Bobby got on the Internet and the phone--while little guy peed on his floor. Oops, again--and we may have a vet who can do the neuter and teeth for a lot less--still potentially expensive, but we will see. At least there is hope. :-)

Oh, and this: while we were standing there, a man came in to make a charitable donation. He asked about little guy? I told him, we chatted, he went back to give his donation. On his way out, he stopped handed me  a TWENTY DOLLAR BILL. Merry Christmas, he said, and walked out. All I know is his name is Greg and he gets enormous generosity karma points and wings. :-)

After the SPCA visit, we needed some park time. The dogs meet another big guy and sniffed over something together.

This place is amazing, out behind the courthouse in an industrial area. You'd never know it was here unless you had a dog. Big dog side on the left; little dog side on the right. :-)

Shot from the same spot, a great skate park on the other! What a cool place! Off Power Inn Road in Sacramento).

What a day.

d, xo

Saturday, Sunshine, River

We've had the most incredible weather this December. Grand blue skies, slightly chilly, sweater weather. Eventually, it will surely rain, but for now Mother Nature practically demands we go to the river.



The guys waiting for me to get it all together.

Just starting out on the dunes. Little guy got a new bright orange jacket just for these wide open range occasions. Easier for me to spot and, hopefully, less likely to look a rodent, or hawk/coyote dinner.

 The only time he stands still is when he's peeing.

 Purveying the river. Happy dogs.



Becoming friendlier.



  The nearly impossible to pull off, family photo.

Back at the car; nap time.

We spent the whole afternoon wandering up the dunes, down along the water. Zephyr swam, little guy tip-toed through the sand. We tromped up the levy and down the trails. It was absolutely beautiful.

d, xo