Hello World and Aunties and Uncles

This is a blog created by animals (and birds) for animals (and birds), however, I’d like to extend greetings in this my first ABCD post to my support group of human aunties and uncles, who have so greatly contributed to my education, entertainment, and culinary experiences since I arrived here as a pup. Since my foster grandmother, Uli, prefers a dream existence to a working one, I’ve lacked a guiding paw (or nip). One can’t expect cats to take up the slack. Two of them, Malka (“I hate you forever, dog”) and Yotur, the four-legged tummy, opted out last year. Esmeralda and Whiskers maintain a careful feline policy of “I don’t see you, you don’t see me.” Then there are the two Big Beaks, Birdo and Varna, who make cacophonous and biased comments about my canine habits. I’m not surrounded by animal joy.

Nevertheless, I have managed to keep the upbeat attitude I brought from my birthplace in Southern California. I’m a February pup, who opened eyes on a spring world of entrancing scents and exciting bustle. Hence my name, Laihainai Ourai, Spring Wind. Perhaps that delicious moment of awareness also awoke the poetess in me. Certainly it inspired me to want to communicate my experiences to anyone around me. The bark is a wonderful canine tool, so expressive and impressive. Finally, and it’s about time given I’ve been an ABCD Collective member since April 2017, I’ve been allowed to write a post. So I intend to pack it with a backlog of observations, some of which I have been emailing to my previously mentioned support group. I keep my paws busy pressing keys on Hilary’s iPad.

First of all, this Willis Avenue house is a good location for my dog den. The puppy pen I was first offered simply could not contain my ambitions. Three hours and I had scaled its fencing. The pen now belongs to Uli. I have a gated kitchen with adequate flooring on which to spread out my collection of toys, a table under which I can hide to eat forbidden snacks, and a choice of chairs for sleeping. Nowadays I can stretch myself tall enough to view what is happening on the tabletop and, sometimes, to borrow something from it.

It was obvious I had been hired to fill the Collective’s vacant position of Protection Agency officer since Uli definitely considered herself retired from duty. Perhaps the Collective members (naming no names) expected me to fit the stereotype of a toy-sized American Eskimo. I am not a toy, being a nice hefty weight and about twice Uli’s height and bark capability. True, she has a cute, fluffy coat, but that’s rather a disadvantage in sunny San Jose. We have discussed these differences during moments she’s been awake.

I love to bark and I love to bounce. Life is full of thrilling encounters, such as visits from my puppy godmother, Auntie Linda, or catching sight of one of our backyard feline members scooting away to the safety of the cats patio, or scenting a fresh bag of treats brought by Uncle Jim. Yes, best of all, I love to sniff. This neighborhood is ripe with tantalizing smells. A walk is an olfactory tour of poles, fencing, sidewalks, front yards when my leash reaches, and discarded trash. There’s a good spread of the latter around here. I insist on examining each interesting odor in order to process and store its information. A dog, says Uli, is an encyclopedia of smells. Unfortunately, her edition is out-of-date.

What new adventures will my second spring bring? (Hint, my birthday is February 11). I expect to help again with garden pruning, to take longer walks as days lengthen, perhaps to be introduced to some dog friends (preferably the male kind), to roll around the idea of puppies, and to enjoy being such an attractive, clever, and creative canine. Look for another post very soon.

Laihainai Ourai