The D Club (and Welcome Back!)

I like dogs as much as Ron Swanson likes bacon, maybe more. So naturally I like taking pictures of dogs, to savor the excitement and revisit them later. And don't even get me started on dog parks. Best invention ever. I'd like to thank Leslie Knope for that idea. Who else could it be?

So as an intro to my revamped blog, I wanted to introduce you to my favorite dogs. I will tell you ahead of time that I do indeed know of some these dogs in real life. (Collective inhale.) With some, I'm on nickname basis. Others are dogs I have socialized with, near or around. No matter my relation, however, I hope you enjoy what I'm calling...

The D Club 

Bella Lucinda/Louis Speilberg 

I start with the pup dearest to my heart, Bella Lu (Louis Speilberg, Belly, Lucinda, Lulu). Bella is sassy and cuddly and quite laid back for being a Little Dog, all of which makes up for the fact that her face is squished and her eyes look like they might pop out of her skull if she sneezes too hard. My favorite thing Bella does is the way she greets you when you walk in the door. When she sees you, she starts to charge your way in an excited gait, and then, right before she gets to you, she flips over onto her back mid-stride, sliding beneath you in perfect belly rub position, as if saying "You're home! And, I know you've been waiting all day to pet my belly." 

Bella in proper belly rub form. 

Coco & Woofy Komaiko 

Coco and Woofy Komaiko are sisters by association, not by biology, and man what a ruckus these two make. The Komaiko family (Jordan's sister, her husband and two darling kiddos) rescued Coco last year and brought her home to Woofy, the mini Schnauzer. Like something out of a rom-com, these two were best dog friends since first sight. Together they've eaten bags of Halloween candy (and subsequently gotten their stomaches pumped), and made a habit out of snuggling on the couch. But the best thing these two have contributed to our weekly Wednesday night dinners is entertainment in the form of what we call Wrestlemania. Woofy and Coco rarely tire of wrestling with each other, and when they're wrestling, it's hard to tell tail from head. Like a blonde and gray yin and yang tumbleweed, they make their way around the house growling and biting each other (with love). 

Coco & Woofy Komaiko

Working dogs

An outstanding job perk for a dogless girl like me is a dog-friendly office like the one I work in. In the interest of savoring my professional relationships by not going into detail about how much satisfaction I get when other people bring their dogs to work, I will let this photo of Noe the Labradoodle and Riley the Lab mix speak for itself.

Chewbacca the (Crazy/Happy) Golden Retriever

This smiley golden ball of love came into my life last weekend. I won't say we know each other well, but we did snuggle on the couch (read: Chewbacca jumped on my lap, attempted to lick my chapstick off my lips and then hastily made his way to his owner) at a birthday party last weekend. I didn't say he was a gentlemen, but I had to include him on the list, because look at his face! And because Golden Retrievers are my favorite. 

Neighbor dogs

These three King Charles Cavaliers live a few houses down from me and they can be admired laying out on their driveway sunbathing while their retired parents garden and enjoy their yard. I had the pleasure of meeting them one morning when Bella was in town. I only remember that one of them is named Pollyanna. 

Bella meeting the Canon Drive King Charles Cavalier posse.

Pippa Kimball

My mom will kill me if I don't include a blurb on her other dog, Pippa (Bella's roommate.) I say roommate, because unlike Woofy and Coco Komaiko, Bella and Pippa do not have a happily ever after-themed friendship story. In short, they're not friends. And while Pippa has a mind of her own, she can be quite snuggly and cute when she wants to be, so we love her all the same.

Pippa Kimball at work.

Dogs I Don't Know But Have Seen (or Pictures of Dogs Sent to Me Electronically)

I'm fortunate to have two dog-crazy sisters and a sweet boyfriend, all of whom send me pictures of dogs on the reg. Here's a collage of my favorite ones from the last week. 

As a full-time dog obsessor, I'd love to see pictures and read stories about your favorite furry things! Twitter: @kmdediego 

Dog-on-it

Hey, Pippa here, and I get to write Kate’s blog post this week! Kate’s been on vacation and going to a lot of yoga, so I’m sure you can understand that she’s just too tired to write this week. So, it’s Pippa Kimball to the rescue! And, I have so much to tell you.

Well, I guess I’ll start by introducing myself. I am Pippa Jean Kimball, but I like to go by Pippa Kimball or Peepo. I am an 18-pound Shih Tzu, and I like it when it’s cool outside. I like Cool Weather because I have a birthday during Cool Weather, and also I have a lot of fur, which tends to keep the heat inside me and the heat is known to make me do snapping, growling and fighting with my sister.

Oh, ya! My sister! I have an older sister named Bella who would be the perfect snuggle partner, except for the fact that Bella doesn’t like me. She openly wishes she were still an only dog. I think that’s why she loves our big (human) sister, Brooke, so much; they relate on the level that they both resented our parents when little sisters (me and Kate) came along. Anyway, I love Bella and refuse to leave her alone. Persistence is key when you’re trying to get someone to like you, so I make sure to jump on her as she wakes up each morning, which sends the message, "GOOD MORNING, BELLA! I'M RIGHT HERE AND I LOVE YOU AND YOU LOOK GREAT EVEN AT THIS HOUR!" I also sit very close to her when she eats, for her comfort. And I think I’m making progress, because Bella and I even made up a game that we play together; it’s called Wrestling & Biting. It’s a great game that is fun at any time of day, but personally I prefer to play right when I wake up and right before I go to bed. The game ends when someone is tired, except sometimes I get fed up with Bella and her “independence” so I do a little bit of ear biting and then she—little princess that she is—plays the “I’m smaller” card and yelps until I get harshly picked up and stowed in the living room while she rolls over onto her back to enjoy a belly rub from Mom.

Anyway, I live in a pretty cool house with my mom, dad and big (human) sister, Kate—the one who writes this blog! Kate is pretty nice, gives good belly rubs and we have some common interests, like taking walks, talking, and lying on the ground. Kate and I also like to walk in nature, but Kate usually just looks at the leaves and trees and birds and bugs; she never stops to smell these wondrous things, and often hurries me along in my sniffing. And everyone knows you can't be an efficient sniffer under so much pressure and leash pulling. She's really missing out. Kate’s other downside is that she doesn’t eat meat or cheese, so her “treats” that fall when she’s cooking are usually quinoa kernels, grapes or carrot chunks. Still, I’m not a particular eater (I mean I like to eat poop), so I still fight Bella for the chunk of onion that falls from Kate’s cutting board. The other thing about Kate is that she always telling Bella and me how much she’ll miss us when she moves out. She wants to move out so she can go out on The Weekend with her friends. I’m not sure, but I think The Weekend is a boat. I know Kate is used to working on The Weekend, so she’s probably really excited about going out on The Weekend for pure enjoyment.

Ok, back to my house. My house has lots of windows, a nice deck and some cool tile to lie on after summer walks. But my favorite part of the house is the kitchen. There is a big white door in the kitchen that doesn’t really lead anywhere, but the smells inside—oh my! Cheese! Salami! Pizza! Beans! But every time I get close enough to really explore, my dad or Kate comes along and snaps it shut in front of me. Humans are weird about food. In fact, I think my mom and dad are practicing a religious ritual of some sort. I think they’re making food sacrifices to the gods. A few times a day, every day, my mom or dad (and even Kate!) opens a door underneath the water spout in our kitchen and puts some food in a bag that sits in a tub in there. And once a week they take the bag outside and put it into a bigger tub where all of our neighbors have put their sacrificial food as well. Once a week the gods send their delegates to collect the food in a big truck, and I’m guessing they have it delivered right to the gods’ houses. Because I mostly stick to filling my days with searching for food, taking naps, barking and chasing leaves, I’m happy my family is considering our position with the gods. I hear that all dogs go to heaven, so it’s good to know I’ll be welcomed there.

Well, I think it’s Bedtime. I know that because my eyes are getting droopy and mom has on those funny leopard print pants she puts on before Bedtime every night. I don’t mind Bedtime, because you know what time comes after it? Time To Eat! So, good night! Take care! I love you! See you tomorrow! I have floppy ears! I love Pupperoni treats! Please rub my tummy! Good night!

A Tuesday in Suburbia

I was invited to Brian’s birthday party.

I didn’t even know Brian. And, I’d only know Tom, the guy that invited me, for a matter of minutes before I received the invite. And when strangers invite you to birthday celebrations, a red flag goes up with the alert message announcing loud and clear: this guy doesn’t have any friends; STEER CLEAR.

That said, I didn’t plan on making the party.

It’s hard to work with two little pups wrestling at your feet—one of the very few downsides to working from home (if you can even call the ability to take a break and go for a walk at anytime a downside.) So with a quick swoop of the sunglasses and latch of the leashes, Bella, Pippa and I were off to the big hill behind our house, where all three of us could release some pent-up energy amongst the birds, grass and sunny skies.

Along the way, we passed a park where people were waving in our direction. Brian’s birthday party. I had forgotten, and now it looked like we were coming to the party. I thought about it, but decided we couldn’t just walk past the fiesta. We’re new to the area, and while I don’t plan on sticking around long, I don’t want to soil the family’s rep up here.

We entered the park. Even Bella and Pippa were hesitant. (Who can blame them for preferring the open Aptos beaches to a fenced patch of grass?)

Anyway, the party was set up nicely with balloon bouquets, sweet treats, bottles of wine, finger sandwiches and more. Friends brought gifts. Cameras flashed and birthday greetings sing-songed around the park.

Tom approached to say hello and distinguished the birthday boy from the rest of the crowd for me. I probably could have figured out that the guy wearing the special scarf was the man of the hour if it weren’t for Brian’s friend Matt, who was the only one wearing a party hat. I believe Matt is what Monica Geller calls a “thunder stealer.”

I wished Brian a happy birthday as he came closer. But he was very much wrapped up in the birthday excitement. I understood. His friends had started a wrestling match in the middle of the park. I had to give 'em credit: they were all pretty laid back, silly and good looking, but I was still wary of the possibility of friendship.

You see, Brian is a dog—a thirty-pound beagle with long ears and a deep howl that he employs when he’s not getting enough attention. His party was at the local dog park, and I was invited by my dear friend Tom, a seventy-something year old man who wants to welcome me to the dog park community.

Oh, the thrills of suburbia.