Negatively No Dogs

This looked like a really really good spot. Booker sniffed, he circled, he sniffed, he circled and then he dumped.



Well, Booker can't read. And can you SEE the sign in the photo above, anyway?



Thank goodness H-Mom always carries bags. She is diligent about leaving no trace of our visits.

That is one of our pet peeves. Or, you could say, peeves about pets. It's simple enough to "pick it up" and really part of being a responsible and courteous dog owner. There are trashcans AND bag dispensers on almost every block along our walking paths. Even in the park. Just because WE enjoy the company of a dog, doesn't mean we want to step in YOUR dog's mess! It is unbelievable how many people pretend that they haven't noticed what their dog is up to. Even at the dog park. Can you believe that H-Mom walked over to one man and HANDED him a poop bag? HAHAHAHAHAHA, she said, "Everyone here helps keep our park clean for everyone else."

H-Mom's idol, Victoria Stilwell, agrees: A War in the Neighborhood.

H-Mom wants to say to everyone, "Good morning ... and THANK YOU for picking up after your pooch!"

Condo Coonhound

Listening for the elevator to stop on "19" with that bing

Sitting politely on the elevator to get to "G"

Exiting and entering through the service entrance as requested


Of course, with that coonhound nose,
Booker can even find the correct door in a long, monotonous hallway

Rainy Season

In southern Florida during the rainy season, the weather usually moves fairly quickly from the west to the east, so if it's raining by Man-Dad's office, he calls and then we know that if we want to get a good walk in, we better get moving.


If this is what the sky looks like, we pick up the pace to get our business done. Sometimes you can see the rain coming, it's a sheet of gray coming down from the dark clouds to the ground.



Fort Lauderdale is known as the "Venice of America" because there are more than 300 miles of navigable water, including the Intracoastal Waterway, the New River and a myriad of canals, working their way from the Atlantic Ocean to the Everglades.

We live right on the New River, and one of the best dog walks is along the Riverwalk, which runs a few miles along both the south and north sides of the New River, in downtown Fort Lauderdale. We cross the drawbridges at Andrews and at 3rd to get around, which makes downtown living convenient even though the New River passes right through the city.












We start out by going under the drawbridge. If it starts to pour, we can hang out there for a bit so we don't get soaked. We walk up one side of the New River.


Then we have to walk over the drawbridge. The cars and trucks make a very odd, deep rumbling noise when they drive over, but Booker is very tolerant. It's easy to be happy when you are going for a walk, as long as there is no thunder!

We walk back down the other side, and over another drawbridge. If there is a tall boat, the bridge goes up and everyone has to wait. Booker thinks that part is very boring, and it's usually at the end of the walk when we are both dragging from the humidity anyway. Note the huge yawn ...

Deep Seated Issues

Booker is doing much better around other dogs when he is on-leash. He is being calm, walking quietly and doing his best to not "pitch a fit." That would include barking, growling, lunging, howling and leaping around. And more howling.

These three dogs send him into fits of mania, though. What is up? Maybe memories, and old deep-seated issues? Did one of these guys steal his dinner on a regular basis? Pick on him and bite his ears? Bully and berate him?

If you look like any one these three, kindly keep your distance. No offense, we just don't get it and Booker's not talking.

Pet Crazy

H-mom is watching Animal Planet. She should be exercising, but she is procrastinating. Of course, she just spent an hour power-walking with Booker, so that counts for something.

Still, the DVD is in the player and she needs to get to it.

Animal Cops is on TV. They said that at the Humane Society of Broward County, 1000 people visit every weekend looking for a pet to adopt. The Humane Society places over 8000 animals a year. The narrator said, "South Floridians are pet crazy."

Crazy? HEY! That's a good thing!

Now, about that exercise ...

Inhumanity of Man

When Maple Sugar first appeared on the ABTCR site, I was enchanted. Look at her face. Look at those eyes. What a gentle soul this dog seemed to have. She needed saving, critically.

"How about a bloodhound?" I asked David, only half kidding.

I keep flirting with the thought of a second dog, and I know that it would be a hound. The thought of two dogs in a condo is daunting. Impractical. Insanity. Still, Maple Sugar had a hold on my imagination. Then she disappeared from the Rescue site. "Wonderful," I thought, "she has been adopted! She wasn't meant for us ..."

I read this the other day. It is heartwrenching. David teared up when I relayed it.

"Maple Sugar is at peace. She was a red Bloodhound who spent almost all her life tied up and forgotten. Finally at 2 years of age, her owner abandoned her to fend for herself. Maple had a long road ahead in her recovery from chronic emaciation and heartworm disease, but she maintained a very loving and gentle personality and was so grateful for any small kindness. Maple experienced the joys of a soft bed, regular meals and love for the first time in her life during her short time in foster care. She gave up her struggle today, while being held by her foster mom."

Some of these gorgeous dogs can be saved. For some it is just too late. Who could be so cruel as to let this happen to a living creature? Furious, sad, astounded ... there is no list of words expressive enough ...

Evidence of an Escape Plot

Booker has been really well behaved lately, when left alone at home. With the exception, of course, of the "Ham Salad Incident." We go out the door and he curls up on the sofa.

Yesterday H-Mom left to open the gallery a bit before 10 a.m. Booker had an hour at the dog park and a brisk walk before she left. Then he hung out with Samantha and got another walk before she headed out around 2 for her internship job.

Was all quiet? No complaints about barking. The anti-bark citronella collar is very effective.

When H-Mom and Samantha got home together around 4:30, the front door was unlocked. She turned to Samantha. "That's weird, did you lock up when you left?"

"I think so," Sam nodded. Samantha is very diligent and extremely security-conscious. It's not like her to leave the door unlocked.

We went in. Booker was very pleased to see us. Goofy, silly pleased. He was acting odd. He was acting guilty.

This is what we discovered:

Scratch marks by the front door. The paint is chipped and marred with nail trails. Note how the door would be easy for a crafty dog to unlock - you just push down on the lever and then on the handle. He got it unlocked, but not open. That didn't work, so he moved to try his new technique on another.

Look at this! Light coming through. H-Mom's bedroom door is open a crack! Booker pushed the handle down and let himself in!

The pillows and throw are mysteriously messed up. Are those pawprints on Man-Dad's side of the bed? Guess all that attempted breaking and exiting deserved a nap!

H-Mom and Samantha tried really hard not to laugh. Naughty dog! What if he would have gotten out the front door and into the hallway? Would he have gone and waited for the elevator? Next time everyone is gone, he will be in his kennel, where he can't get into mischief and plot an escape.

Where did Booker go? Seems he is hiding behind the sofa.