Learning Lessons

I'm trying to stay on top of the blog...and the dogs, and the shop, but I want to keep you informed, because it turns out some of you are really interested in Trooper. (If you're only here for the vintage I am SO sorry. Really. Until I get the new dog blog--yes, the dogs are getting their own blog--set up I'm posting here.

So, a quick run down of today:

1. Walking the dogs together is really...frustrating. I'm not sure how I'm going to improve on it, but it's a must or mommy's going to have a little meltdown. I walked them tonight, came home, dropped all leashes, turned around and took my very own walk. I was that stressed out. It happens.

2. My book came today: "Living With A Deaf Dog" by Susan Cope Becker. Now that we're moving from Trooper emergency care to daily care, it's really time to better understand him, rather than just coexisting with him. I think it will do us both good, as he's getting pretty demanding, a lot of barking if he can't see me and perhaps a bit spoiled.

3. Trooper made a serious break for it yesterday, down the driveway, FOUR houses down. I, of course, was in socks & flip-flops. I ditched the flip-flops mid-run and chased him down in my socks on a wet sidewalk. Good times. My knees really love me today, too. With better health, he's getting faster. I SO need a driveway gate.

4. As his teeth feel better, his appetite is growing, but he's having some trouble with food. I grind it up and make a mushy paste with water, but we're now one step further making "dog food soup" that he can lap up. The mush was getting pushed all over the floor, leaving Zephyr as clean-up patrol. Trooper has NO front teeth anymore, or, no scoopers, as I like to think of them. So, I'm trying to make sure he gets enough to eat. I worry. (I worry about everything, but now I have a whole new list of dog worries too. Sigh. Breathe. Om.)

Needs a clean-up commity

5. Lastly, I got another donation to the surgery fund! Now at, $185!. It's from someone I don't even know, not even from Twitter. (I love it when people blow my mind, in a good way.). This lovely woman nearly put me in tears, because she APOLOGIZED for not being able to give very much. My mind just reeled, because, because...no one should ever apologize for giving. We give what we can, when we can, if we can, however we can, or not. I get we are in a major recession, and we are all doing the best we can at any given moment. Let's all say "Oooooommmm". And, thank you kind person for donating. It ALL helps. :-)

Side note: I am being taught a lot about generosity right now. It's good for me, and sometimes hard too, because I often feel that asking for help with Trooper--or anything, really--is wrong, not polite, "we just don't do that." It's needy, greedy or...in poor taste. I sometimes feel very guilty. I don't want to make people feel uncomfortabe. I don't expect anything. Who am "I" to ask for anything?! Etc, etc, etc. I'm trying--trying, trying, trying--to learn to just sit still, say thank you, be gracious and let it happen. It isn't easy, but perhaps, necessary. 

And...that was today's short list. Sorry. I think, write, pontificate and write. It's never short. Brevity, something else to work on.


Again, thank you. Thank you for just reading. You rock. :-)

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

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

Morning Walk, Day 8

We walked quite a ways this morning. Little guy was just about to sit down and call it quits in this photo. He was a great trooper, keeping up, but then he was done. Plop. I had to carry him home. My arms were limp by the time we arrived.

I may need one of those doggy backpacks...words no one would EVER imagine me saying. This dog is not a dog anyone would ever imagine ME having either. Big dogs, mountain dogs, herding dogs, that's me. Or, that's my illusion of me. Now I'm a woman who is homing a small fluffy lap dog, one that sits in the crook of my arm, one that wears a coat & needs a sweater.

Can you hear it? The universe is laughing and laughing. Oh well. Laugh away.

d, xo

Found: Booby-Trap!

I spotted the old board game box box amongst a plethora of jigsaw puzzles at the thrift store, an original Booby-Trap game by Parker Brother, 1965. I gasped & nabbed it with that exhilaration reserved for great finds like Famolare wedge heels, Spirographs, a pink Samsonite train case. :-) I slipped it into my cart with a hint of glee on my face & went on my way.

As with everything, I thought it would be a great piece for the shop. Who didn't love Booby-Trap? But EBay is surprisingly covered with them and I'm a bit relieved, because now I can keep it.

I grew up in the mountains, snowbound all winter. We kids thrilled to be outdoors, building snow forts, sledding down deadly inclines, and precariously hanging from the the second story deck rail and falling into snowbanks, but eventually we'd get cold and spend the day indoors playing board games: Clue, Masterpiece, Monopoly, Yahtzee, Battleship, Life, Stratego, Booby-trap.

I don't know where the game came from, as it was toted as a bar game, not a kid game, but we had one and I loved to play. SNAP, went the trap, as you eased the wood pieces out of their tight squeeze. It was a vintage version of Jenga or pick-up sticks, it required skill, patience and a long winter.

I think I'll take this up to my parents house and teach my niece to play. We'll make popcorn and sit around the table with the family who still loves to play board games. :-)

d xo

Scout and Rescue gets a banner

It isn't a complete banner yet, no type, just the photo. But oh, I love this photo. These two young cuties are my parents. Years before I was around, but no so many before they were married at the unbelievably young age of 18 and 19. Insane. 

But, I hear, back then, they were a lot of fun together. Mom was a sporty girl--camping, fishing, racing around in the Austin Healey. The boys liked her. She was a trooper. I like that.

When dad saw this photo, he exclaimed: "Good god! Where did that come from?" I snickered. The family has made me the keeper of photographs, so I've got my pick of the best of them and I'm not afraid to parade them out once in a while. Amen.

d, xo

St. Valentines Day

It's a good day to hang out with the one I love. I hope you are too.

Happy Saint Valentine's Day,

Dahlila & Zephyr

Moving Continues . . .

Beginnings are always a bit confusing, a little disorienting. You may at times need to sit down and have a cup of tea, or something stronger.

Let me explain. The banner above reads "Dahlila Found" and that is my Vintage shop on Etsy. (There is also Dahlila on Etsy, my other shop, but that's for another story.)

But your address reads Snowflower Street; where are we? I am so confused. I feel faint. Please bring me that tea and pour that something-stronger in it please. . .

Snowflower Street is my home. It is where the real me lives. Snowflower Street began over on Wordpress where it will remain--all the questions, the confusion, the exasperations of life, the sighs, the yelling, the ennui, but also the beauty, the details, the walks, the observations, the little nuances of life that don't necessarily pertain to Etsy. The name just had to come along because I couldn't bare to come up with a new name.

This new blog will be mostly about my life on Etsy, my shops--both of them--and all the beautiful things I can find to share with you.

It's terribly dusty here still and it will be for quite some time. As unpacking can take me, well, as long as it takes me, but I'll try and share the journey along the way. I hope you will come back as I move in, rearrange the furniture, paint and settle in.

Meanwhile, you most welcome to read Snowflower Street. A lot has taken place there, dahlila.