Max and Fang

Precious

After her first trip to the dog groomer.

How Precious Earned her Nickname

November 1st, I saw my opportunity to escape madness and took it.

2 weeks before, my owner had a stroke and was hospitalized. My care was passed to the landlord on a temporary basis. What will happen longterm?

While my owner's son is willing to give me to the SPCA, a friend steps forward pleading for the case that his mother will be shattered by the permanent loss of her Precious dog. The friend volunteers to temporarily foster me.

Housed with 6 other dogs and with no flea control I am miserable. In addition, children have been added to the mix who insist on carrying me around and brushing my tangled fur.

The last straw was being left in the backyard with the other dogs while the dog caregiver went off to Escalon for a funeral leaving us with yet another stranger to check on us and feed us for the weekend. And by now the weather has turned with a chilly day of rain.

Sunday night the out of town guests are leaving and I see the opportunity to escape. It's 10 p.m. on a dark and rainy night and I am determined to find my way to safety. At 3 a.m. Monday I am cold  and wet  and lost, I decide to scratch on a welcoming door on Homewood but my shyness holds me back from  accepting the hospitality offered and I run off again.

12 hours later I am running down the middle of Gunn Road when my rescuer spots me. Terrified yet submissive, Karin can't be worse than what I've experienced the past 15 hours. She takes me home and gives me a good look over then takes me to the vet. My skin appears to be on fire. It was probably a reaction to what I've been through, a flea allergy and the road oil that covers my body. A bath with Dawn, a steroid, an antibiotic and plenty of loving care and I'm feeling like the precious little dog I am.

My rescuer Karin posts Found Dog on Next Door and finds the probable owner on Craigslist.

My owner is headed for rehab for her paralysis and won't be able to have me back under her new living situation so I have been relinquished to Karin and her mom.

Two mommies, a foster brother, regular meals, my own bed and attention to my needs: what better could I hope for?

The nickname White Fang appropriately honors my great misadventure.

Jump Ahead to August 2014

Bought a new mirrorless Canon EOS M a few months ago and decided the only way to take advantage of its capabilities was to go out and shoot something.

Max was ready when he heard the word GO.

I spent the afternoon reading my Kindle Manual on the Camera purchased today and setup the camera with my preferences for focus, exposure bracketing and file size. I felt READY.

Drove to Old Town and parked near the Crocker Museum then walked along the Sacramento River exploring views worth taking of Sacramento's iconic Tower Bridge.

Update - Life in Citrus Heights

About a month ago, on my 74th birthday to be exact, the PT Cruiser was crushed by a Carport Roof. A month to the day I picked her up from Body Craft, repairs guaranteed for a lifetime by Geico. New roof, new windshield, apparently good as new. It was an interesting period of time to reflect on whether or not I need a car. Enterprise rented me a Jeep which spoiled my appreciation of the Cruiser. I could have 'gotten by' with public transportation and the occasional car rental. Something to keep in mind if and when the Cruiser is no longer a valid choice.


Life has settled into a routine of sorts. Farmer's Markets on the weekend, some exploration of burger joints and chinese food restaurants. A few outings but nothing of real note. What is coming to be a regular dinner engagement with the love of my life brings warmth and joy to the hearth and heart. Karin and Phil are nearby when I need or want to see my little family.


I'm loving living here. The weather suits me just fine. The house feels like home even though it's not 'there' yet. Most of the cardboard is secreted behind closet doors and/or upstairs in the spare bedroom/sewing room, out of sight and mainly out of mind.


If I'm going to cure all tendencies toward hoarding it will take an effort on my part to decide what to do about the excess. Too many quilting projects conceived but never planned and implemented leave me with few options. Shall I setup an Etsy store to market small quilted projects and/or sell off the fabric stash? Should I donate unwanted fabric to a quilting guild?


What do I want to do about my interests in photography, genealogy, knitting?


And, there is always the health issue of getting enough exercise for the body and soul and dogs.

Settling In - Citrus Heights

On August 26 the dogs and I were 'ready to go'. All that mattered and should be part of our 'new' life is packed in a U-Haul being driven by my son-in-law. The PT Cruiser looks like part of the Grapes of Wrath, packed to the hilt.

We've said our goodbyes and are heading for a new bed in Citrus Heights.

The following week I picked up Patti O to head for Arcata and pack up the remainder and identify the furniture that needs to come to Sacramento. We spent 24 hours or so getting it all together and staged for the move. Karin and Phil took care of things from there on.

This really complicates the move in process because my attention is now focused on organize, purge and destroy. How I thought I could avoid this is beyond me. AND there are still another 8 boxes or so in the garage in Arcata that will have to be disposed of as well. It is easier to do that here I suppose and we won't have to do it until the place is rented. Still the task looms ominously.

The daily routine includes making choices about whether or not it stays or goes and where can it be pigeon holed anyway?

Quarterly Update

Now introduced to the Sacramento area I am thinking, yes, I could live there.

My daughter's married life begins there. A home and a life plan that is looking good. Now mom and kids need to decide whether or not living nearby is an advantage.

The last move was never completed in terms of being an organized and livable household. Can I go through this again without a major shedding of the past encumbrances?

Unpacked boxes aren't the only barrier.