Category: CREATURE FEATURES (Page 12 of 37)
Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My! (Plus dogs and cats)
It was a McMeal of Scooby Snacks, Sliders, and Tater Tots last night while we watched the final episode of “The Handsmaid’s Tale.” In Oregon we have both McDonald’s and McMenamins to satisfy our McCravings. However, salt and caramel ice cream is what we were really after, but Salt & Straw can’t keep it in stock, so we didn’t get dessert. “To-Go” is the main incentive to get us out of the apartment these days. “To-Stay” means little to do but watch TV, play video games, read, write, nap, or assemble a puzzle. We ended the lazy night with the first episode of “Little Fires Everywhere.”
It’s another rainy Portland day, so Tally the schnauzer will join us on a “Nothing-Doing” Saturday. She hates getting wet, so her much anticipated walks will be disappointingly short, leaving us all more time to do nothing. There was a time when a down-day like this would have been more than welcome, but instead it’s become dreadfully routine. We could have been doing nothing in the Bali sunshine right now, if circumstances hadn’t changed. At the very least, I should be grateful that we’re healthy, along with 99% of people we know. There is that very small percentage of distance acquaintances that have contracted COVID-19, but fortunately none have been fatal cases or even close to home.
As we walked to pick up our food last night, my wife did an informal survey of those wearing masks on the street. Ours just arrived in the mail, so I was sporting mine for the first time, while she elected to enjoy the fresh air. Of about 75 people we passed, only about 20 had their nose and mouth covered. I found mine to be uncomfortable because my glasses were steaming up. I’ll have to dig in my ski equipment to find some anti-fog. Speaking of snow, the local ski areas just re-opened today. It’s about an hour drive if I were ambitious. It serves as a reminder that there are things to do if I make the effort. However, I haven’t skied in over a year, even when life was normal and never as late as mid-May. Before we exit Oregon for a Florida home, I’ll need to hit the slopes one last time while I’m still in my sixties. It’s a long way from Tampa to snow for a Septuagenarian, another name for a dinosaur. I guess I better think twice about “Doing Nothing” when a few more years might mean “Nothing Doing!”
I only watched about 3-hours of TV yesterday, as opposed to the normal 8. Most of my time was spent pondering the second jig-saw puzzle of what is now 57 days. Unlike most everyone else, I cheated those first few days by traveling, otherwise the total would have already exceeded sixty. According to a radio report, it will be at least two to three more weeks before the state of Oregon fully reopens. This should happen just in time to sneak-off to Florida and do some home shopping. Florida has been open for business for several weeks now.
My youngest grandchild celebrated her 2nd birthday yesterday. We should be settled in Florida to be there for her 3rd. It’s probably good to stay away for the terrible-twos. Her sister turns eleven in two weeks. My grandson is already a teenager, so I’ve never been much a part of their lives. Most importantly, there should be more sunshine than living in rainy Portland. My skin is turning ghost-like in isolation, while my hair is out of control, probably accounting for some of the weight gain. I’ll be unrecognizable to the kids by the time we get down there.
It’s good to anticipate a little travel, especially considering that I’d be bronze in the Bali sun by now. It hardly seems fair that I’ve now got the time and resources to see the world but another obstacle suddenly jumps in the way. One of the memories of our trip to Venice was a drink at Harry’s Bar, a Hemmingway hang-out on the water. It’s another casualty of COVID-19, closing for good after 90-years in business. The Pro’s Table in Indianapolis, owned by friends, is also a recent victim, though not as historically famous. In my hometown of Elkhart, Indiana, popular Lucchese will shutter after 38-years of serving Italian food. The virus is taking its toll on beloved dining all over the world.
Tally will get a much needed visit with Falco today to burn off some energy. My wife will take her over to her daughter’s house this afternoon. In addition to the puzzle, I’ll probably try to add a few more pages to my murder novel, a long-overdue project that I finally started out of boredom. I guess there’s a few pluses in having too much time on your over-washed hands. Our masks arrived yesterday in the mail, after a too-long delay. I’ll give it a try tonight for Chinese to-go from the neighboring restaurant. It’s hardly as eventful as the distant memory of Friday “Leadership Meetings” at Buffalo Wild Wings during the Good Old Days.
“I wish somebody would have told me babe
Some day, these will be the good old days
All the love you won’t forget
And all these reckless nights you won’t regret
Someday soon, your whole life’s gonna change
You’ll miss the magic of these good old days”
Macklemore lyrics
Disney World will apparently be opening soon with patrons required to wear a mask. Will Mickey be wearing one? Regardless, it will hard to see the smiles as the characters do their magic. I haven’t gotten into the habit of wearing one yet, but it will soon be ordered. Some would claim that I’m being disrespectful, but I do at least go out of the way to keep distance. I’m also not outside the apartment that much with the exception of my morning run. Regardless, I need all the oxygen I can get when pounding the pavement.
We live in crazy times, fighting an invisible health threat with useless weapons. With little to do but watch TV, read, and do puzzles, all of us are getting antsy. I successfully fulfilled my weekly cooking responsibility last night and will be rewarded with to-go food tonight. We’re watching A Handmaid’s Tale and Billions to pass the time. I continue to chip away at my murder novel while reading Clive Cussler’s The NUMA Files that includes some Egyptian history. We’re still hopeful we can get there as planned in October.
The economy continues to struggle, as I am trying to write just a couple of paragraphs. It’s increasingly tough to come up with topics when there’s little to do. The big activity for today may be a drive to the vet office to pick-up some medication for Tally. Once again, it’s a rainy day in Portland and even the dog is restless. She’ll enjoy a short ride in the car, anything for variety. Her fur continues to grow without the availability of grooming services. The characteristic schnauzer mustache now appropriately covers her mouth like Mickey’s mask.
If life was normal, we would have been on a series of planes to Bali this morning. I probably would have also shortened my daily run to a mile to make the early flight. It’s now been two months since I’ve taken a running “break,” meaning less than 3.1 miles. My body seems to have weathered a two-week slump where a break would have probably been in order, but I persisted. The last three days have been relatively easy, as my pace has improved to under 12:30:00, though nothing to brag about. Actually, the average for someone my age is 13:52:00, which is what I was approaching during the slump. In the process, I made several adjustments in support, shoes, surfaces, and style. Compression gear, asphalt, a knee brace, more stretching, and arm motion have all placed a role in the improvement.
Instead of the balmy breezes of Bali, we’ll be stuck in the drizzle of Portland. Unfortunately, rain is back in the forecast after a week of 80-degree warmth. I’m sure this was also a factor in my running attitude after shedding the windbreaker for the first time in six months. Lighter and faster has made for a better experience of late, as day #4152 is now behind me. I’ll have to use my imagination when it comes to tropical sunsets, sandy beaches, and fine dining.
We hosted a Mother’s Day brunch yesterday for my wife’s daughter and her husband. Tally and Falco, got to romp in the nearby dog park. For a few brief hours, life was back to normal. We then tried to bring my car back to life, but the battery refused to cooperate. I’ll call AAA this morning, even though we don’t really need both cars these days. Then, as I sat down to print some tax forms, the printer ran out of ink, so I had to place an order. The cable signal was also starting to break-up. All was so very right for those few brief hours, but suddenly the everyday hassles were back! A Bali break will have to wait.
After 50 days of being home-bound, we ventured out on our longest journey since mid-March. It was just shy of a month ago that we did a shorter get-away out to the closed Vista House. State Parks like this were just re-opened to the public this past week. Our dog, Tally, likes to ride in the car and often perches herself like a surfer on the armrest between the two front seats of my wife’s convertible. In mine, she has an elevated dog bed in the back seat that allows her to see outside. I probably would have driven, because there is more space for everyone, but my battery was dead from little to no use.
Our goal was to pick-up a case of wine and enjoy a beautiful, sunny day. I was appeased with a quick stop at McDonald’s for a Diet Coke, a rare fountain treat these viral days. We also got a tankful of gas for the first time in recent memory. Premium was only $2.55/gallon, a bargain for Oregon, while the rest of the country often boasts of half that price. We were soon experiencing the refreshing openness of the countryside after the suffocation of isolation.
I was a “Five-Peak” day, as the mountains loomed in the distance. There is little more thrilling to my wife than a clear day in Oregon and views of Hood, St. Helens, Rainier, Jefferson, and Adams. Tally sat unimpressed until we stopped at the side of the road by a Llama farm. I’m not sure if she’s ever has been as close to something so tall. I could almost reach out and touch it, while she was hesitant to even move. They stared at each other for a minute before she started to bark..but it was more of a cautious woof. My wife wanted to take a picture of Tally and the Llama. “Tally Llama,” she quipped. It was a memorable moment of laughter.
Llamas have been in the news lately. According to Belgium scientists, “A female llama called Winter has been injected with a protein present on the surface of the novel coronavirus, first detected in China last year, and has reacted by developing antibodies. These in turn appear capable of playing a role in shielding the carrier and neutralizing the threat of the virus.” It seemed appropriate that we were face-to-face with what could be a hero in freeing us from isolation and the threat of respiratory disease.
We’re all familiar with the Dalai Lama, “spiritual leader of Tibetan Buddhism, and in the tradition of Bodhisattva. He has spent his life committed to benefiting humanity. In 1989, the Dalai Lama was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for his nonviolent efforts for the liberation of Tibet and his concern for global environmental problems.” Maybe next year’s prize could be awarded to Winter the Llama?
In the business world, there are those that have obviously capitalized with variations on the Dalai Lama name. For example, The Dolly Llama “specializes in unique, hand crafted dessert waffles paired with artisan ice cream and personalized toppings.” Now, there’s the Tally Llama, the product of my wife’s vivid imagination. It’s a schnauzer with black fur and a long neck that likes ice cream.
It’s like someone hit the pause button on life. Freeze-It! Every morning I run by the restaurants and shops that have yet to open. There’s no sign of life…no pulse. Every chair is in the same place it was seven weeks ago. Window manikins wear the same outfit. Parked cars haven’t moved in months. The homeless have found new doorways to sleep in, knowing that customers won’t soon cross the threshold. It truly is a ghost town.
I was struck by the new Rolling Stones single, “Ghosts in a Ghost Town.” It came on the radio – at least, something new. Apparently, it was written months ago, but the words were changed before release, capitalizing on the current state of our dying cities. Yes, a few places have re-opened in the neighborhood, mostly coffee shops and bakeries. Maybe all this caffeine will pump some life into us?
It’s disturbing how sedate my life has gotten. I haven’t driven my car in weeks, concerned that it may not start when I need it. I didn’t even feel like walking down the street for take-out last night. My wife is frustrated because she needed some variety. We did get a visit from her daughter and her husband last night. They picked up their dog, Falco, after a few nights in our care. As new homeowners, they are taking advantage of “shelter in place” to work on their roof, gutters, and yard. All the noise is disturbing to puppy ears, plus Falco can romp with our schnauzer Tally. Today, both dogs are depressed without companionship.
Double-dog duty is more challenging, but a pleasant disruption from our boring routine of late. I’d blame it on retirement, but most people are now living at a slow pace. They’re either working from home our out-of-work, stuck in front of the TV like most retirees. Under normal circumstances, we would be packing for Bali. Are better times on the horizon? Some states are opening for what I think is risky business. This virus is tricky and I’m worried that it could once again take control, setting us back from recovery. Maybe they need to hit the “pause button?”
Oregon seems to be content waiting another few weeks to see what happens elsewhere. Everyone is certainly hungry for the streets to return to normal and our economy suffers more with every day of missed work. It would be nice to push “play” and get on with our lives, but too many want “fast forward.” I just don’t want to have to “rewind” only to start this whole thing over again.
Like the “Good Ol’ Days,” I did pick-up a penny off the sidewalk the other night. My wife and I were patiently waiting for our “Scooby Snacks” and sliders from the recently re-opened McMenamin’s Blue Moon. More and more neighborhood restaurants are unlocking their doors after apparently securing government loans, enabling limited carry-out menus. Admittedly, I’m frustrated with missing out on my little quirk of collecting “Pennies from Heaven,” concerned that they now may be infested with germs. It turned out to be too late to get them later when I had proper hand protection. All these recent changes in dining and cleanliness routines are sadly the by-product of the Coronavirus crisis. Touching anything or anyone can be hazardous to our health.
Our frisky schnauzer, Tally, unconcerned about social distancing, accompanied us on the 6-block walk to get our to-go order. “Scooby Snacks” are logically a favorite of hers, as well, named after the animated Great Dane Scooby-Doo. They’re actually mini corn-dogs. On the way, I had just used a doggy bag to pick-up her poop, so after spotting a penny on the ground near-by, the risk of grabbing it in a similar manner suddenly didn’t seem like a big deal. I’ll keep a spare bag in my pocket on future runs. After all, why pass-up a penny when a poop is worth much less!
I once won a giant five-foot stuffed Scooby-Doo at the Indiana State Fair and proudly presented in to my then wife-to-be. I felt like her knight in shining armor toting that silly dog around all evening, since everyone was jealous of our prize. It was eventually passed on to a friend’s daughter of perhaps a more appropriate age. Every time we share “Scooby Snacks,” it makes me think of that summer night when we were first dating twenty years ago. Nowadays, my armor is badly tarnished, and I’m all too often in her dog house. As what I fondly refer to as the “Scoobster” would say, “Ruh-Roh.”
There was a dramatic change to my routine today. I got out of bed, did some stretching & push-ups, squeezed into my compression gear, and started to let the dog outside. All of this right on time, as it is every day of the week. We live in an apartment building, so I have to take our schnauzer Tally down three flights of stairs to get to the exit doors. From there, it’s a one-block sleep-walk to the park and business as usual. The only problem is that the door is not glass, so I can’t see what’s on the other side, as Tally bolts anxiously ahead every morning. She is on a leash to protect her from what was once a busy street. Lately, with everyone shuttered inside, it’s eerily quiet.
I never know what’s on the other side of that one-way locked door. There could be a homeless person sleeping just outside, but this is rarely the case since I’m not the first out that steel door every morning. There’s also an airlock between the stairway door and the exit, leaving about a six-foot long carpeted hallway. Sometimes a smoker will huddle on the cement pad in front of the covered doorway and the odor of pot or tobacco will linger. It’s also a dry spot to duck out of the rain plus a depository for cigarette butts and food wrappers. One one occasion, Tally’s doggy buddy, Falco, couldn’t wait to get out and relieved herself in that contained space. I immediately cleaned the carpeting with Spot Shot, but could smell the trapped fumes of cleaning fluid for weeks afterwards. Needless to say, there are many distracting smells that Tally looks forward to sniffing every morning.
Other neighborhood dogs lurk outside on the sidewalk if my timing is bad. The barking and growls echo throughout the hallways and disturb an otherwise quiet setting. These encounters are always eye-opening and ear shattering, especially after eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. I learned after moving in that this back-exit was the best option, after encountering other dogs in the elevators and common stairwells that lead to the lobby. The dogs in our building are predictably enthusiastic once they leave the cramped confines of their respective apartments. They’re either very glad to see each other or mad about sharing their newfound freedom. In particular, there’s a Saint Bernard upstairs, Moose, that would like to eat Tally for breakfast. Needless to say, we stay out of each other’s way whenever possible.
Moose’s owner must have been slightly off-schedule this morning, since normally they are on the other side of the park as I exit the building. They always spot each other with doggy-radar but they’re too far apart for anything but dagger-like stares. Maybe it’s a love-hate relationship? This morning as Tally wanted to go out, Moose was chompin’ to get in; they were quickly nose-to-nose and ready to tear into each other. I ended up shutting the door and changed my normal route to the park in favor of the other direction. Nothing gets the blood flowing faster than seeing the furry, giant jowls of Moose and his hungry eyes looking back at your helpless dog through the crack in the door – at least it’s steel. After narrowly avoiding confrontation, we wisely took a “Fur Detour!”
I need an injection of energy, as we face another day of sameness. Stretch. Run. Blog. Watch. Eat. Eat. Nap. Eat. Wine. Watch. Read. Bed. Repeat. In between, are a few short outings with the dog, but otherwise every action is pretty much “Groundhog Day.” A couple of short conversations with friends add some variety, but overall I’m getting a troublesome case of “Cabin Fever.” We don’t even live in a cabin!
“Cabin fever refers to the distressing claustrophobic irritability or restlessness experienced when a person, or group, is stuck at an isolated location or in confined quarters for an extended period of time. A person may be referred to as stir-crazy, derived from the use of stir to mean ‘prison’.” All this according to Wikipedia.
It seems like years since the movie theaters have been open, but a good example of “Cabin Fever” is a recent psychological horror film, The Lighthouse. “It’s the tale of two lighthouse keepers who start to lose their sanity when a storm strands them on the remote island where they are stationed.” Isolation from civilization does strange things to people. Stories like Crime and Punishment and The Shining are classic examples. They prove that you can bore yourself to death!
I am a little stir-crazy, even though I sometimes relish just being alone. Killing something or somebody has yet to come to mind of late. I used to dread going to networking events, parties, fundraisers, and conventions where there was never any privacy. Admittedly, there were times when I would have killed to just stay home. Now, it’s just my wife and I confined in an apartment with our travel dreams on hold. Our main entertainment is television and Tally, our ten-year old schnauzer. Tally leads a lazy life in “good bed,” but is always anxious for a walk. It’s these brief encounters with the outdoors that keep our family sane. Tally leads us away from the television and out of the cabin!