Halloween

Halloween is not a big to-do at our house.  Our neighborhood does not have sidewalks and doesn't feel safe for kids to be walking in the dark.  We often do not get any trick-or-treaters at all. I always feel compelled to buy Halloween candy "just in case," but we usually end up eating it ourselves.  Halloween is fun when you have small kids, but at 16, our daughter is no longer trick-or-treating.  Last year, we did not even carve pumpkins.

This year, I felt like I didn't want to miss out.  I like tradition and felt a sense of loss for not participating in recent years.  So this year, we carved pumpkins for Ashley's birthday at the beginning of the month.  And when those grew moldy, we carved new ones. 

A couple weeks ago, Ashley and I were at Target doing some shopping.  I went to the Halloween aisle to look for candy for my kids at school and happened upon the animal costumes. I always love the dog costumes!  I'm lucky because Pongo will wear whatever I put on him.  Hats were just a couple of dollars, surely we could afford that!  I picked up a pirate hat and a chef's hat.

"Which one should we get for Pongo?" I asked Ashley.

She paused for a minute, thinking it over, then picked the chef's hat.

"Oh, that's perfect.  He's always in the kitchen!"

Then I decided to sew an apron for him.  I embroidered "Chef Po" in green by hand and then hemmed it and made straps on the sewing machine. I decided to dress up as a witch and found most of my costume in a box in the garage.

I invited a neighbor family to come by with their two kids on Halloween between 5 and 6.  The morning of October 31, I got up at 2am and made Halloween cookies. Of course at our house, Halloween cookies means black cats and pumpkins . . . .

  

 Halloween and Christmas are my favorite cookie making times of the year - about the only time of the year I make cut out cookies.

       Here Pongo sports his Halloween costume.

         Pongo and his mommy pose for pictures. 

  It was a lovely evening, and we even got a few trick-or-treaters!

Maybe it was the cute jack o'lanterns!

Happy Halloween from the Wulffs!

New Friends

I was scheduled to meet a co-worker and her dog at Little Si this morning for a hike.  Over the summer, she adopted Zed, a mixed breed, black and white spotted dog who looks similar to Calder (my sister's dog).  We have been meaning to introduce Pongo and Zed, but the start of school is always busy and the weeks have whizzed by. 

After a hectic school week, we decided this would be a good weekend for us to finally get them together.  We have had the most beautiful fall that I can ever remember.  It has been largely dry with mild temperatures for the past two months - extremely atypical for the Pacific Northwest.  The past week, however, the fog rolled in and stayed and when I got up this morning, it was raining. 

I feared Julia would cancel, but to my relief, she didn't.  You can't be a fair-weather hiker in the Pacific Northwest, or you'll only get to hike a few weeks of the year.  There were only a few cars in the parking lot when I arrived and to my surprise, Julia had not one but two dogs with her.  She explained that the black one, Oso, belonged to friends and that she was dog-sitting for the weekend. 

Pongo's motto is: "The more the merrier!"

Socialization is crucial for both humans and dogs.  Can you imagine being completely isolated with another species, never getting to converse with another human like you? Knowing this, I have always tried to give Pongo opportunities to be with other dogs.  Though it has been harder since moving to Washington state.  It often takes planning.  I live in a neighborhood where people who are walking their dogs cross the street when they see us.  The majority will not stop to let their dog say hello. There are many dog owners in Washington state that believe leaving their dog in the backyard gives them what they need.  Their dogs never leave the house or yard and only socialize with the family and whatever other pets are in the home.

Pongo, Zed and Oso bounded up the trail together.  They were all about the same size and looked adorable together!  As we hiked, I was struck by Zed and Oso's boundless energy.  They chased each other back and forth while Pongo trotted sedately, most often by my side or only a few yards ahead of me.  It is in these instances that I am reminded that Pongo is an old dog.  He simply could not keep up with them.  But he didn't care - he was happy to be outside in the cool, wet air.

 

 Julia gives the dogs water at the summit.

The fog was thick, obscuring the view of Mt. Si.

  

We lingered at the summit, taking time to eat a snack and water the dogs before heading back down.  While we had seen only a couple people as we neared the summit, on the way down we encountered many other hikers of all ages, as well as a fair number of dogs.

 

 

Eva poses with Zed, Pongo and Oso at the trailhead.

 

We finished the hike in 2 hours and 40 minutes.  I love it that Pongo and I can disappear into the woods, climb a mountain and then still have the whole day ahead of us.  After we said goodbye, I drove through North Bend and stopped to buy a big cup of green tea at a drive-through coffee stand. This has become another one of our rituals after cold, wet hikes in North Bend. After giving me my tea, the woman gave me a dog treat for Pongo.  Instead of eating it, he began pushing it with his nose, burying it in the sheet I'd spread to cover the back seat.  He lay down and went to sleep.

 

On the way home, we stopped at Mud Bay and bought him a bully stick.  When we arrived, I unwrapped it for him.  He lay down on the living room carpet and got right to chewing.  I swear he had a smile on his face.  Now that's a good day in the life of a dog . . .

 

Jealousy

Pongo is a momma's boy.  During Pongo and my early years together I was single. Although I dated, I did not have a steady boyfriend.  Most of the people who came to my home were women.  Pongo received my undivided attention much of the time when we were together. 

I didn't notice a difference in Pongo's behavior when I started dating my husband in 2008 until we moved in together in 2009.  Then, Pongo started displaying signs of jealousy.  When I would stand in the kitchen embracing my husband and we would kiss, Pongo would come stare us down and bark.  We tried telling him, "it's okay" or telling him "no," but to this day I can't hug and kiss my husband without Pongo protesting.

When I was single, Pongo slept at the foot of my bed with me.  But when Del and I decided to merge our homes, Pongo was then relegated to sleeping on the floor at the end of the bed.  If Del went to bed first and I climbed into bed later, it wasn't a problem.  But if I went to bed first and Del tried to crawl into bed with me, Pongo would growl and nip at him. This was alarming to both of us.  My gentle, sweet Pongo did not like my husband getting in bed with me! 

At the time, I was taking Pongo to advanced obedience classes, and when I confided in the instructor about this new behavior, she suggested that we try using Bitter Apple.  Bitter Apple is a product that you spray in the dog's mouth or on items you don't want them to chew.  It has a very bitter taste and dogs really dislike it.  The advice is that when the dog engages in an undesirable behavior, you spray it once into their mouth.  The next time the dog engages in the behavior, you spray it twice, and so on, increasing the spray each time until the dog learns not to do "it" anymore. 

Pongo, as expected, hated the taste of Bitter Apple. When he got his first spray of it, he immediately jumped off the bed and stopped growling.  The next time it happened, he jumped off the bed as soon as we picked up the bottle.  But Pongo continued to growl and sometimes nip at Del when he would come to bed.  Del and Pongo spent much of their time together in 2009.  The economy had tanked and Del had been laid off from work like many others.  Pongo spent the days following Del around the house and yard until I would get home in the late afternoon.  It hurt Del's feelings that they could be best friends during the day and then Pongo would turn on him when he tried to get in bed with me at night. 

Finally, I realized that the behavior had started when we moved Del's bed out of the bedroom and replaced it with the queen-sized bed that Pongo and I had always slept on before I had met him.  I hypothesized that the scent of that bed had something to do with him claiming it. We decided to swap them out and put Del's bed back.  Amazingly, it worked.  The territorial behavior stopped. 

Pongo has adjusted to being part of a family and loves Del.  But he is his momma's boy. When I come home, he greets me excitedly and wants to be by my side (unless Daddy's in the kitchen, then he becomes Del's shadow in hopes that he'll be given a little nibble here and there).  Sometimes when I am away, Pongo will sit or lay down by the back gate for hours, watching for my car to return. 

 

My wedding at Ponderosa State Park, McCall, Idaho, August 6, 2010.

I guess the jealousy goes two ways sometimes.  I like to say to Pongo, "who's my best boy?" and sometimes my husband replies, "I am."  I love both the men in my life.  In 2002, Pongo changed the way I looked at the world.  He gave me peace.  In 2008, Del brought me love and devotion and gave me hope for the future.  He gave me what I'd always wanted: a family.

Magnusen Off-Leash Dog Park

Warren G. Magnusen Park spans 350 acres at Pontiac Bay, Lake Washington and is located in the Sand Point neighborhood. It is the second largest (after Discovery Park) in Seattle.  This park was a former Navy airfield which was decomissioned in the 1970s.  The City Council agreed to develop it into a recreational facility in 1976 and named it after Warren G. Magnusen, who was a longtime Washington politician and served as a senator for almost forty years.

The Magnuson Off-Leash Dog Park was created in 1999.  It is Seattle’s biggest fenced dog play area with 9 acres of land, and is the only off-leash area inside city limits with water access. Pongo and I have been coming here since 2006 or 2007.  What used to be about a twenty-minute drive from my Beacon Hill home is now a forty-five to sixty-minute drive from Bonney Lake.  Needless to say, we don't come very often anymore.  It is a special treat that we do maybe six times a year. 

Pongo has always been highly social and loves to have play time with other dogs.  I learned very early on after adopting him the important role of dog parks.  Living in an apartment in DC, Pongo often spent ten to twelve hours a day indoors waiting for me to come home from work.  I discovered that giving him time off-leash to run, wrestle and play with other dogs wore him out much faster than taking him for a walk or a jog.  In addition, the socialization gave him time to be a dog.  He would come home happy and spent.  It was a regular part of our weekly routine at that time.  Now, Pongo has a lot less time to be with other dogs and he misses it.

The weather forecast today was for a dry day and mild temperatures - something I cherish this time of year.  Instead of going for a hike, I decided to give Pongo some doggie play time.  We left for Seattle shortly after 10 am this morning.   From I-5, we took the 45th Avenue exit and drove through the University of Washington campus.  Continuing on 45th, we passed Children's Hospital and the road turned into Sand Point Way NE.  At NE 74th Street, we turned right into the former naval complex. 

   We passed the community garden and the children's playground area.

Once inside, I took off Pongo's leash and he headed across the open play area  to the walkway that leads to the water. No longer interested in playing ball, probably because of arthritis, Pongo loves to spend his time on the beach playing with doggie friends.

He always finds a golden retriever to play with - his favorite breed, he always singles them out at the dog park.  I think he likes blondes...

View to the right of the beach. Kids, as well as dogs, like to play on the uprooted tree.

 

Pongo refuses to swim, but loves to wade knee-deep into the water.

 

      
         A view of the shoreline.

     View looking back from the beach.

This shows one of the long walkways from the play areas that leads to the shoreline.  Pongo sniffs along the fence line where many have passed before him.

This large play area looks toward the parking area.  On the other side of the shelter is a smaller, fenced-in area for small dogs. 

 

At the entrance/exit there are a couple water stations where owners can hose off their sand and mud-caked dogs and give them a fresh drink.

 

When we left, Pongo and I walked over to a food truck parked between the soccer fields and the children's play area.  I bought a 20 oz. caramel macchiato and a turkey hot dog with dijon mustard and sauerkraut.  I sat down in the grass and Pongo sat next to me, begging.  I pinched off bits off hot dog and bun and shared with him.  For years, I fed him only commercial dog food and treats.  But when I got married, my husband couldn't say no to Pongo's soulful eyes when he had food in his hands - especially meat.  Ignoring my protests, my husband would feed him scraps, saying: "I've never had a dog before."  Now, the excuse is that Pongo is an old dog and should enjoy life.  Even I give in sometimes, but only on special occasions, like when we go for a hike, or are on a long car drive and Pongo is hungry - or today.  Even I have become an old softy.

Skookum Flats

I researched this hike a couple of weeks ago, but ended up not going because it was pouring rain.  It had been raining for at least five days.  The damp cold made me want to curl up under a blanket and read a book.  I made my apologies to Pongo and promised him we would go when the sun shone once again.  This was the weekend! Two days of mild temperatures and blue skies. 

As soon as we got in the car, Pongo started whining.  He refused to sit in the back seat and stood up with his front paws over the gear shift.  This makes it very hard for me to drive, but I have tried several commercial dog seatbelts and Pongo always gets out of them, earning him the nickname of Houdini Po.  I gave up on those long ago. 

As I drove the backroads to Buckley, Pongo whined and yipped with excitement.  He didn't used to do that.  I believe he learned it from my sister's dog, Calder.  Calder is an obsessive-compulsive ball dog and will whine incessantly in the car when he knows you are going somewhere he perceives has a big reward at the end ... i.e. a park or river where you will throw the ball for him.  Pongo and Calder became best friends the summer of 2006.  I was contracting with the Federal Way Schools District, so I only got paid the nine months I was working.  I ended up working in Moscow, Idaho that summer at Gritman Memorial Hospital.  I lived with my parents and often biked the ten miles or so to work.  I took Pongo and Calder for many hikes, runs and walks over those two and a half months. 

A year later, my sister was diagnosed with breast and thyroid cancer at 37.  While she was going through chemotherapy and radiation, Calder came to stay with me for about six weeks.  She didn't have the energy to provide him with the daily exercise he needed.  I would take Pongo and Calder to the dog park to play ball and Calder would whine the entire way there.  Pongo began to imitate him.  I noticed after Calder had gone home that Pongo continued to whine on the way to the dog park.  Gradually, he began to do it to other places he liked, and the behavior was generalized.  This is a good example of how dogs learn from each other - both positive and negative behavior!  Thanks, Calder!

To get to Skookum Flats, we drove from Buckley on 410 to Enumclaw then continued on twenty five miles.  Soon after passing the town of Greenwater, we came to Forest Service (FS) Road 73 and turned right.  We passed over a one-lane car bridge spanning over the White River to a small parking lot .  There was only one other car in the lot.  We found the trailhead on the left side of the road. 

I chose this particular hike because it has very little elevation in climb.  It is a fairly flat trail that meanders along the White River.  Though you cannot always see the river, you can hear its rush continually as you hike to Skookum Falls.  The perfect hike for an aging dog.

Although the temperatures were in the sixties, I felt chilled as we set off.  I wished I had a jacket, but had come only with a thin, long-sleeved, synthetic Nike shirt.  It took me thirty minutes of hiking before I finally warmed up.  But I quickly fell in love with this trail.    There were old decaying cedars along the way.

 The trail wound through the forest and then back to the river, never veering far away.

There were enormous downed trees that had been cut to let hikers through.   We traipsed over boarded walkways that covered shallow streams, where Pongo often stopped to drink.  Which was a good thing, because when I sat down on a log and pulled my water bottle out from my backpack, I set it down on the ground momentarily.  Thirsty, Pongo decided to help himself to some water and knocked it over.  I grabbed it quickly before all the water could drain out. 

At one point, a steep rock face wall hugged the trail as it descended.  To my delight, it was covered in starry moss, tiny shoots of ferns, and leaves that looked like a climbing vine.  I put my hand out and touched it as I stepped down over tree roots and around rocks. It was luxurious as velvet.

We came across many different mushrooms growing up out of the forest floor.  Other mushrooms grew on the trees, jutting out of the bark like hand holds on a commercial climbing wall. 

We were alone on the trail for more than half an hour.  I doubted whether we would see another soul.  But then we came across three older gentleman coming towards us with hiking poles and packs.  I wondered if they belonged to the Subaru I had parked next to which had a Northwest Trails Association sticker in the window.   One asked me what my dog's name was and I told him.

"Congo?" he asked.

"Pongo with a P,"  I replied.  I get that a lot.  I understand.  P and K are both unvoiced, high frequency sounds.  They are hard to hear.  Congo is a more familiar word and people's minds fill in the unheard sound with something that makes sense to them.  (There's a little speech pathology trivia for you.)  "Pongo was the daddy dog in 101 Dalmations," I continue, "not that he looks anything like a Dalmation."

They tell me I am near the falls and continue on their way.  Once we get closer, I am delighted that I can hear the water.  I thought that after a long, uncharacteristically hot summer in the Pacific Northwest, that it might be dry.  Perhaps the two weeks of recent rain had made it flow again.  Half-way from the top of the falls and a pristine view of the water cascading down, I found a log to sit on.  I took off my pack and decided it was a lovely place to eat lunch.  Pongo sat facing me, staring up at me with his playful eyes, begging for bites of my peanut butter sandwich.  It is our hiking ritual.  I broke off bits - one for you, one for me.  To my dismay, my camera phone had stopped working, and I am unable to get a photo of the falls.

After we had finished eating, I decided to try to hike to the top before turning around.  Pongo bounded up the steep trail like a mountain goat, or a young dog.  I chuckled to myself.  He continues to surprise me.  He paused to look back at me, "Come on!" he seemed to say.  I hadn't brought my hiking poles.  It was steep and my running shoes slipped periodically on the moist surface.  Still, I was more worried about Pongo falling than I was of myself.  Three quarters of the way up, I decided to go back down. 

Then, as we headed back the way we had come, I began to jog.  I was in my bliss.  Dwarfed by trees, the sound of the river in my ears, Pongo bounding ahead of me on the trail, then coming back to make sure I was still coming, his laughing smile and cocked head reminded me of my favorite childhood book, Where The Red Fern Grows.   The story of a boy and his hunting dogs, they spend endless days together in the forest.  I can't help think that this is where man (or woman) and their dogs belong - in nature together.

Pongo and I trade the lead, running, walking back to the trailhead.