I'm participating in Srutt Your Mutt to raise money for my favorite charity, Two Dog Farms , the Jindo rescue that saved Dory. The event is on Sept. 15, 2013, in Woodley Hills, where we humans will strut our respective rescued dogs to raise money.  No donation amount is too small or too large.  ;-)  I'm asking all my friends, family, blog followers and strangers I meet on the street to donate. Each donation is tax deductible and I will send each donor an adorable photo of adorable Dory.  If you're not inclined, no worries. If you would like to help raise funds (for which I will be eternally grateful), please donate at the link in this blog entry or go to . For more information on how to adopt or foster a Jindo dog like Dory, check out the information at TwoDogFarms.com.

Adorable Dory as seen on the streets of Santa Monica.

Today at the Santa Monica Pier...

upon closer inspection...

These are photos of an example of the best of human endeavours and I'm so happy the good ship Endeavour has come to spend her retirement years in Los Angeles where she can inspire and delight untold numbers of future scientists, explorers, astronomers, teachers, artists and people like me who are just proud of what was achieved through her existence. 

Sunday At the Beach with Dory

In a continuing episode of Adventures with Dori - scared, adorable Jindo dog extraordinaire -- currently being fostered by this Santa Monica resident, this photo essay is submitted. 

"I'm the best dog I know how to be..."

Sunday, March 4th, having made impressive progress facing fear and flinching in Santa Monica, I journeyed with bright-eyed and eager Dori through the loudest part of Santa Monica to its most congested and attractive part -- the beach.  Actually we only went to the Pacific Palisades park which overlooks the beach near Wilshire Blvd. 

"Meh..."

Regardless of the beautiful day, clear sky, low surf, Dori Dog was none too impressed, clearly turning his back on the ocean so it wouldn't scare him.  Earlier he had been seriously startled by his shadow so the ocean scene was a bit beyond his ability to face new fears for the day. 


Walks with Dori are studded with full-body flinches and crouching plus the occasional attempt to avoid or escape.  Dogs and those on the other end of the leash are supposed to enjoy and bond during walks but walking with a hyper-vigilant and nervous dog who turtles his tail with every city sound is challenging work (to be fair, for a dog whose previous 5 years was spent alone on the end of a long leash staked in a back yard in the quite Pasadena mountains, Santa Monica must sound like he's in the midst of blunderbuss hunting season for Jindo dogs). I thought a back pack would help Dori feel more confident on his walks. So, with the help of one of Mr. BoJindo's back packs, which arrived today, Dori got a new red bag! 

"Now what?"

Dori accepted the back pack (which, empty, is about the weight of a bath towel) without fear even though it required some fiddling under his chest where the straps connect with clasps that can sometimes pinch. Nevertheless, Dori stood still while I lowered the shoulder straps over his head, the bags across his back and clicked the chest straps together.  I had to cinch the chest straps a bit since Dori is probably 10 to 15 pounds lighter than Mr. BoJindo but Dori patiently tolerated -- or perhaps enjoyed -- all the handling and physical fuss.  The pockets are filled with his poop pick-up bags and some handi-wipes or me.  When he gets some of his weight back I may add a water bottle so he'll have water on longer walks.

The back pack seemed to help Mr. BoJindo focus when he walked or hiked so he wouldn't ramble and charge off to the end of his leash after a squirrel as much as he did without it  I hope it'll help Dori feel more secure when we walk.  We'll soon find out!

Once outside with his back pack, Dori met my neighbors who patiently introduced themselves and offered a gentle hand to scratch his neck. 

To be continued... 

Grounded

There's always something new to be found while walking Santa Monica and sometimes it's under my feet. During a recent walk along one of Santa Monica's oldest boulevards I took the time to notice the lovely art work in the sidewalk.  These mosaics take public art to a whole new level.  Ground level. 

And then there's this. 

This isn't art but it's history. I found it thanks to one of our awesome librarians at the Santa Monica Public Library familiar with Santa Monica history who gave me a rough idea where to find this street sign that's been in place since sometime prior to 1912.   Santa Monica residents might scratch their collective heads wondering where in the city is Oregon Ave.? "Oregon Ave." can be found on early maps of Santa Monica (also available online through the Santa Monica Library).  Most residents know where Colorado, California, Idaho, Washington, Montana, Pennsylvania, Arizona -- even Ohio -- avenues are -- but Oregon? Not so much. That's because Oregon Ave. was changed to the now world famous Santa Monica Blvd. in 1912.  This faded street sign is on the north west corner of 5th and Santa Monica Blvd.  


With all the countless pairs of feet crossing and scuffling across this street sign every day, eventually it'll be worn away and forgotten -- or at least illegible.   Wouldn't it be nice if the Santa Monica City Council could initiate some action that would preserve this piece of under foot history?

Mysterious Door

1660 Ninth St.

On my most recent trip to the Santa Monica Animal Shelter, intent on dropping off the last of my paperwork so I can eventually volunteer there, I noticed this intriguing door with the seemingly ominous door knocker.  I have no idea what's behind the door, but it's kind of spooky -- or perhaps intriguingly compelling.  I was tempted to use the knocker just to find out who would open the door and/or hear what sound would issue forth (perhaps Frau Blucher from "Young Frankenstein"?) -- but I'm not THAT fearless nor nosy -- just curious tinged with touch of drama. I'll leave it up to my imagination and conjure up my own visions of mystery, demons and Daniel Webster behind the mysterious door. 

Fostering in Santa Monica

Adventures with Dori begin!  Dori, the 5 year old, neutered male Jindo dog I volunteered to foster arrived today around noon.

My first visit with Dori at the Pasadena Humane Society

It all started on January 21st, when I read an email sent by Adopt A Pet looking for a volunteer to foster Dori. Not really knowing what "foster" meant, my immediate reaction was, "I know about the Jindo breed, I could probably foster this dog." immediately followed by, "I'm not allowed to have pets. I live in a single bungalow without much room. I'd have to change my daily routine.  I've house-sat for dogs but I don't know anything about being a foster. What if I mess up? I probably won't be able to help." Nevertheless, I responded to the email and later called the contact person listed on the email.  


I won't detail Dori's life before today -- because nothing exemplifies "Today is the first day of the rest of your life" better than dogs -- who always seem to live in the present.  Their behavior may be influenced by human treatment, but animals don't hold a grudge, don't feel sorry for themselves and they don't plot revenge.  They do know how to be loyal, to demonstrate total acceptance of humans no matter how worthy we may or may not be. They can be fearful and untrusting but I believe they're all creatures with undeniable, inestimable worth.  



Dori is nervous but curious and very sweet.  He takes food from my hand very gently, loves to have his neck and behind his ears scratched. He's "hand" shy -- his whole body flinches when I put up my hand to indicate "stay".  We had two walks so far today and he did very well both times. Although he didn't eat breakfast before he made the trip to my place, this afternoon he ate his "Taste of the Wild" kibble enthusiastically (provided by Two Dog Farms).  He is afraid/unsure/wary (?) of the kennel (also provided by Two Dog Farms) so we'll have to work on that.  I don't want to leave him here, on his own, right now.  In a crate he'll be less likely to eat my couch or claw his way through a window in an explosion of canine separation anxiety. With consistent effort on my part, I believe it won't take him long to be balanced and happy.  

The lovely and impressive Pasadena Humane Society

Dori has a second chance through the efforts of real life, terrestrial angels like Rosalind Behenna who runs Two Dog Farms, Inc. Non-Profit Jindo Rescue, a Korean Dog Rescue, Rehabilitation and Rehoming organization. One has only to read my May 20, 2010 post, "The Zen of Mr. BoJindo Sitting" to know that Jindos are very near and dear to my heart. I'm sure that's got a lot to do with my plunging into the unknown of fostering a dog. Step by step, starting with getting my landlord's permission (thank you Victor!), the groundwork was laid through Rosalind, Lorna Campbell at the Pasadena Humane Society and dog trainer Rebecca Setler to get Dori out of harms way and into my foster home care where he can evolve blossom into a self-confident, balanced dog ready for his forever home.  I'll probably make some mistakes along the way -- although I have seriously studied Cesar Millan's "Cesar's Way" which taught me a lot -- especially how to be a good pack leader -- so maybe the mistakes will be less than catastrophic. 

Memorial wall in the Pasadena Humane Society's courtyard 

After a long day, Dori is asleep on the floor right now, dreaming of something that makes his legs move like he's running. I hope it's a good dream and not an escape nightmare. It occurs to me that it might be interesting to make a movie or a computer game based on a dog's dream from the dog's point of view -- or what we humans think is a dog's point of view when they dream -- where every player is the embodiment of a dog having to deal with real canine issues.  Hmmm.  I LIKE it!

Dori scopes out the front yard.

Being able to foster this lovely creature would not have been possible if my landlord had not given me permission.  He's a dog lover and knows I've treated his property with respect for the past 20 years -- as if it belonged to me. I'm just glad I had the determination to ask him. Without his support this dear dog would probably not be alive right now due to overcrowding in the shelter that offered him for adoption and provided a short-term home -- and the world would be a little bit sadder, smaller and miserable.  I know -- how does saving one dog in a world where human beasts slaughter each other and their children make the world better?  I can't save the human beasts but right here, right now, there's the possibility that this dog has something to teach me and other people about being a better human being and I will do my best to help him on the way to a fulfilled doggie life.  

Swinger's in Santa Monica

I love Swingers.  It's been one of my favorite Santa Monica eateries since the first time I ate there, shortly after it opened.  It's fun (there's a juke box and 60's-70's ambiance), the wait staff are always awesome (chatty, hip and always seem to get my order right), the food is lucious and fresh and the menu is lengthy. 


Friendly dogs are welcome -- they're not allowed inside but the long, narrow patio affords responsible dog owners the opportunity to have their dogs stay by them while they eat, talk, drink, laugh, meet and enjoy the experience of including their dog(s) through the day.  The wait staff will even bring a container of water for your beloved pooch. It's wonderful seeing several dogs curled up on the sidewalk by the patio tables where their humans are seated.  Recently, new bike posts have been installed on  Broadway next to the patio area so cyclists can secure their bikes to something sturdy rather than a parking meter. 


I stopped at Swingers Saturday afternoon after a couple hours of walk-about errands.  I was super hungry and I had to pass Swingers on the way home. I ordered my "usual": a burrito from the breakfast portion of the menu.  I sat at a patio table and within 15 seconds I was asked what I'd like to drink. Coffee and a glass of iceless water (that's the way I like it) were delivered in less than a minute.  BTW: their coffee is really good; I drink it black.  Minutes later I placed my order and settled in to read the "Santa Monica Daily Press".  By the time I was ready to read page two, the burrito arrived.  I'll admit the place wasn't that busy but even so -- that's fast.  I snapped the photo below and sent it with a text message via Loopt then dug into the warm, flavorful burrito awesomeness.  

Buried inside the whole wheat burrito are quinoa, spinach, black beans, some tomato-based sauce and really interesting flavorful spices.  There're probably more ingredients inside but I don't know what they are -- other than divine. The topping is the most delicious chipotle sauce I've ever tasted (garnish of spring onion tops). 


Swingers offers breakfast, lunch, dinner and late night nosh. The menu has plenty of interesting and delicious food for omnivores, vegetarians and vegans.  Many of my non-vegan/non-vegetarian friends now love Swingers.  If you live or work in Santa Monica and haven't eaten at Swingers... you really should.  Bring your out-of-town guests -- they won't forget the place and they'll probably want to go back every time they visit. 


The only drawback eating there, right now, is this view of the building across the street (NE corner of Broadway and Lincoln Blvd.)

Yep.  Another of the too-many, look-alike boxes being built in Santa Monica.  Fortunately, it  rained earlier so there was no construction cacophony and I could enjoy my burrito in relative quiet. 

11-11-11

Besides being a really awesome palindrome (no, that's not the name of Sarah Palin's country home), 11/11/11 is Veteran's Day.  It's the day we civilians are provided the opportunity to do more than just slap a "Support our Troops" bumper sticker on something. It's the chance to voice our thanks to the members of our military community, without whom our freedoms might only be a long-forgotten, faded piece of parchment. 


Thank you from the bottom of my heart to all our veterans. You are loved, celebrated, you are treasured and admired more than most of us can ever articulate. I'm not a veteran but I am a military brat so I'm a teeny-tiny bit familiar with the personal sacrifice of military life. There's much opportunity in military service but there's sacrifice as well. Besides opportunity to serve this country, the chance to earn a college degree, a noble career, and the experience of being part of a team, there's low pay, drafty base housing and more time away from family than with them.  


I'd like to expand my thanks to include the military families who stay strong and lovingly give of themselves in a way they may not have anticipated when their beloved family member became part of our military forces. For the military, service to country comes first and family members provide a huge amount of support to make that happen. This country should also thank the families. I salute the veterans and their incomparable families from the deepest, furthest corners of my heart. You bring color, vitality and nobility to our American life.  You are part of who we salute or for whom we cover our hearts when we sing the "Star Spangled Banner" or say the Pledge of Allegiance.  Thank you.


I thank my cousin Dale in Chicago who enlisted in the Marines in 1968 on the day he turned 18. He spent two tours as a lineman in Vietnam before he was twenty. He came home to marry a lovely woman and raise three fantastic, loving, generous children whose lives contribute to the world. Thank you Dale.  You have led a loving, selfless, noble life and you are one of my heroes. I'm proud of you. The whole family is proud of you. 


I'd like to celebrate my cousin Christina who enlisted with the Marines at age 18 and continued to serve her country even as a single mother. You inspire me and I thank you.  


A special thank you to my eighty-seven year old father, who, at age 18, was flying P38's with the famous 94th Aero Squadron over Italy during WWII.  He spent 24 years in the Air Force beginning his career when it was known as Army-Air Corps and retiring in 1964.

Photo from:world-war-2-planes.com 

About five years ago I attended a course, "American War Films", offered through Santa Monica College.  We viewed, analyzed and discussed about ten films, one of which was "The Story of G.I. Joe" which I'd never seen before.  War films are not my favorite film genre but I've seen a number of them. Where other films left me with a hatred of war and violence, "The Story of GI Joe" transformed me -- not my thinking -- me.  I don't mean that I now love war and violence but I did come away with a LOT more -- 100% more -- appreciation for what it took to be in the armed forces during WWII. 

Walking home after the class, I felt the urge to call my dad and thank him for his service.  Like so many veterans, Dad seldom spoke about what war was like for him so I didn't know if I'd embarrass him or make him uncomfortable. I called anyway. I told Dad, "I've just seen 'The Story of GI Joe' and, I know you weren't in the infantry and I'll never know what it was like for you in World War II, but I appreciate what you did and I want thank you. I just really thank you."  He was quiet for a few seconds. Then he said, "You don't need to thank me."  I said, "I want to." Another second or two passed before he replied, "No one in my family ever thanked me before."  We talked further but I was so glad I made the call and so glad I thanked my father for his service to this country. 

In his back yard.

Dad lives in Virginia now and spends his days teaching himself Arabic, studying home courses about calculus, astronomy, theology, genetics and teachings of the Buddha. As an unintended member of The Greatest Generation, he's a walking, breathing part of history -- and he's interesting to talk to about almost any subject. 

Enjoying the afternoon sun.

Most days Dad takes a walk along the Windsor Castle park bridge in Smithfield, VA.  If you see him, introduce yourself and chat. I'm sure he'd be delighted and it'd be a gift to him if you say "Thank you for your service to this country".

Once again, thank you Veterans and Veterans' families. 

Steve Jobs in Santa Monica

The alert bell jangled on October 5, 2011. The sound, I knew, was breaking news delivered to my iPhone via the New York Times app. The screen read, "Steve Jobs, Apple Co-Founder Dead". Like many millions of others, I read about the death of Steve Jobs on an Apple device. I gasped, "No..." and wept. I don't remember ever crying over the death of a CEO before.  I was caught off guard by my reaction.  I knew Steve Jobs was battling cancer but I was shocked, felt a deep sense of loss and cried. I wanted to visit the Santa Monica Apple store. I knew instinctively I'd find fellow mourners with whom I could cry and wonder aloud how such a brilliant man, leading innovator in personal computing, music and animated film industries could be beaten by cancer.  He just seemed bigger than a disease that so voraciously vanquishes the lives of less accomplished mortals.

I bought my first Apple product in 1984 and have been an unabashed Apple fan ever since. I admire the clean simplicity of Apple products even if I don't understand or utilize even half of any devices' capability.  Most of all I admired that Steve Jobs wanted to change the world and he did. I admired Steve Jobs unconditionally -- flaws and all.  I needed to find my own personal way to say thank you and goodbye. 


It took me four days to stop crying, gather myself and organize my day so I could take time away from work. On October 9th I printed the photo from the Apple web site and scribbled, "Thank you, Steve Jobs for the difference you made in my life through your life's work." Around 2 PM I began the nine-block walk to the Santa Monica Apple store, 5" x 7" note in hand, intending to leave it on the sidewalk in front of the store where I expected to find a spontaneous memorial of flowers, notes and apples.
  
What I didn't expect was this:

Santa Monica Apple Store tribute/memorial to Steve Jobs 

The Warhol-esque, three-panel vision of a larger-than-life Steve Jobs rested against the Apple store's front window.  Each panel was about four feet tall by three feet wide. The canvases were striking, poignant and quietly powerful. There was something so cathartic, so right about the art work -- I conjured the memory of John Lennon, Steve Jobs and Beatles' music.  There were flower bouquets, single roses, candles, cards and apples with a single bite taken from side like the iconic Apple logo. It was a magical memorial.  


I placed my note at the base of the left hand screen next to a generous bouquet. Many notes read simply, "Thank you."  Like me, several people in the quiet crowd around the memorial read the notes, stood in silent reverie, left something behind and took photos. I'm still moved by the show of affection for a man I'm sure none of us who visited the store that day ever met.  


After I placed my note, I entered the Apple store and asked the young man who'd helped me solve an ITunes problem, if one of the store employees painted the art work.  He said no, and none of the employees knew anything about it. It had been left anonymously and was there when the first employees arrived to open the store that morning, Oct. 9th.  


I haven't returned to the store since, so I don't know if the artist returned to reclaim the canvases or if the memorial is still there.  I may go visit the store again tomorrow, November 9, a month after my visit and ask if anyone knows any more about the art.  

Santa Monica Chip

This precious little critter is "Chip" and I frequently see him in Santa Monica, walking with his human partner. His personality could light up anyone's day.

Chip

I took about 8 pictures of this darling, friendly and gleeful chihuahua but he's so full of zip and vigor that he's just too fast for my iPhone camera! He's got such a happy personality and he makes me giggle every time I see him  I'll try to photograph him again next time I see him. Maybe I can get some better pics.