Category: Tally (Page 16 of 31)
Our third schnauzer
My wife felt like a football widow these past few days and admittedly I spent a lot of time in front of the “boob tube.” Don’t worry, I did get a 3-mile run in every day to extend my continuous streak to 3,977. Only 23 days until the four-thousand milestone and another 28 to hit the 11-year mark! While not on the run, two I.U. soccer wins and the BIG Championship did not make up for the I.U.football loss to Penn State. The Hoosier basketball victory over Troy in between was interrupted by our “Meet the neighbors” open house, but the Oregon Ducks game started after everyone left. The Indianapolis Colts game wasn’t televised, while the “Bad News” Bears weren’t worth watching. I will get reacquainted with my wife today on our way to “Matinee Monday.” I want to see Ford v Ferrari that in her opinion is just more sports, but agrees that it’s getting great reviews.
While I was sitting in front of the TV, I was also actively engaged on the internet. I won a 1956 Chicago White Sox autographed baseball through the Heritage auction house that included Sherm Lollar’s signature, along with Hall of Fame members Nellie Fox and Luis Aparicio. It was my first experience with on-line bidding, so I was fortunate to claim the prize after the two-week process. At the same time, I was busy with “Ban(n)ister World,” adding more names to my Jerry Banister Family Tree. I created a list of about 100 names with “Common Ancestors” among my Ancestry DNA matches and performed the tedious task of connecting each them to the tree branches. It will hopefully give me more stories to add to my “Diary of an Adoptee.” It’s all about my curious quest to identify those who gave me life and find out more about their extended Ban(n)ister family members
If you didn’t know it already, I’m an adopted child and running fanatic that turned out to be an Indiana University (I.U.) grad, media alum, sports nut, collector, movie lover, and hobby genealogist. I have time to do all of these interests in retirement, and write about them in this daily blog. This particular post combines all my favorite activities. My wife and I now live in Portland, Oregon but we’re both originally from Indiana. We’re considering a move to sunny Florida to establish a permanent retirement home. My son and three grand kids would then be nearby. In fact, we’re headed to Orlando in a month for a visit and to do some exploration of property on the Gulf Coast. My wife’s daughters will be concerned that their mother is so far away, but both of them are newlyweds with busy lives. I don’t know if our elderly schnauzer, Tinker, will be able to tolerate another move, but the younger one, Tally, will like running on the beach. In the meantime, we’ll continue to be retired world travelers, dining-out enthusiasts, wine drinkers, and party hosts. Hopefully, this all will give you a clearer picture of Who I Am?
Our schnauzer Tally has had a tough couple of months. In our move from condo to apartment, she first lost her favorite sleeping spot, a small sofa that she chewed-up as a puppy. When the move was complete, she adopted another clawed-up chair that was once in my office. However, we replaced that with a new chair that she is not allowed to sit on. Naturally, she would not give up or just didn’t get it, so we finally compromised with a protective covering. Ultimately, she lost interest and found comfort in a dog bed next to where we sleep.
We next introduced Tally to her first niece, a terrier mix named Falco. We housed Falco for the week while her mother, my wife’s oldest daughter, and new husband enjoyed a honeymoon in Hawaii. They became best of friends, romping through the hallways on our floor and teaming-up to bark at other dogs. Our other schnauzer, Tinker, Falco’s elderly aunt, took this all in stride and maybe didn’t even realize that we had company. At over 15 years and without good eyes and ears, she only reacts to food. I take her outside in her stroller several times every day to make more room for more food. Input equals output – this is why Tinker has earned the reputation as “The Poopingest Pup on the Planet.” She rarely fails to discharge on each of our five or six daily outings. It was a challenging week, handling the needs of all three dogs. I would start each day with just Falco on a leash and then make a separate trip to the nearby park with Tinker and Tally. The rest of the day my wife and I would divide & conquer, so the peppy dogs could take longer walks while Tinker would rest and probably dream of food.
After all the other things we took away from Tally, it was time for Falco to go home. Today, things were back to normal for us, but Tally lost her best friend and playmate. Fortunately, she goes to the spa this morning for a bath and grooming. She’ll at least be around other dogs and can continue to romp before she returns to our quiet apartment. Hopefully, it will be an easier transition after so many tough ones. I can almost read Tally’s mind: “You took my couch, my chair, and now my dog.”
Our two schnauzers, Tinker and Tally, are slowly adapting to our small apartment box. It’s the way they started their life in Portland when we moved here over five years ago. They ride the elevators up and down throughout the day and have to contend with the traffic noise and crowded streets. It’s very different from the quiet neighborhood where we lived between apartments. Grass is also at a premium even through there is a park just a block away. This is where we go first thing every morning to do our business.
We’ve settled into a daily routine that starts with loading Tinker into her stroller. Once she’s buckled in, Tally goes on the leash and we head out the door. I now own more keys than I’ve ever had in my life. One for the apartment door, an electronic fob to get in the building, trash room keys, garage opener fob, plus hydraulic lift and mailbox keys. I replaced key locks for our storage cages with combination locks so that my pockets don’t bulge as much. Are those keys in your pocket or are you glad to see me? I carry just the door fob and apartment key with me when dressed to run. They do their thing in the park and then I escape for my daily three miles.
By the time I return from my jog, dodging cars, bicycles, pedestrians, and scooters, my wife takes her turn with the pups. Each dog then has a different priority. Tally wants to stay in bed with my wife, while Tinker wants food. Tinker is the classic example of input equals output. This is why we call her “The Poopingest Pup on the Planet.” She’s well into her fifteenth year – about 110 dog years, and relies solely on her sense of smell. Even though she’s lost hearing and eyesight, her appetite has never waned. Also, the minute after I get her out of the stroller, she wastes no time making waste. I have little time to get a doggy bag ready, as she wobbles off to take care of number one. On the positive side, she has not had one single poop-sident in the apartment, but I feel like she’s ready to explode every morning after all the scraps we feed her. One morning, I made the mistake of taking her out without the stroller. Fortunately, I had a bag ready when she started to squat in the elevator. I was able to catch it before it hit the floor. The Air Buggy stroller that we bought for her can prevent such an embarrassment and allows her to keep up with Tally’s much faster pace.
While I write, my wife takes the pups on a much longer walk, sometimes leaving Tinker behind. The 110-year old lady seems to be fine as long as I’m nearby, but appears to loom by the door hoping that they don’t forget to include her. On occasion now, I’ll go with them, taking turns to push the stroller. Since my wife’s retirement, we’ve done fewer “Schnauzerthons,” where I combine my run with their walk. She has the time to spend with them outside of weekends. I still do the early morning and late night shifts of taking them out, but we now alternate throughout the afternoon, making sure they get six outings every day.
Tally’s only adjustment issue has been the other dogs. Somewhere along the line she’s lost her social skills, and has been very protective of us, barking at all the strangers that we encounter. She even barked at herself in the elevator the other day, spotting her own reflection in the stainless steel walls. Loud bus and streetcar noises make her jump, while Tinker never hears them anymore. Hopefully, Tally will eventually settle down. She loves to go out on our tiny balcony and bark at anything down below. We feed her out there, as well, so greedy Tinker can’t steal her food. Once Tinker has quickly gobbled down her own dinner and begins to search for Tally’s, we simply shut the sliding glass door so Tally can take her time eating. When we were in the condo, their bowls were side-by-side so we always had to keep an eye on ravenous Tinker. Tally eats much slower and gets distracted easily. Next thing she knows, her bowl is emptied by Tinker. Eventually, we learned to separate the two of them at meal time. The balcony trick works great, especially when you live in a small box!
The other day I ran past the Lovejoy Columns, not knowing their significance in Portland history. Coincidentally, I was renting the movie Drugstore Cowboy filmed in the railroad viaduct area of the now refurbished Pearl District. A friend suggested that I watch the Matt Dillon classic primarily for one of the opening scenes that takes place in a drugstore just down the street from our new apartment. The robbery crew headed by Dillon’s character Bob are shown in some choreographed segments involving the columns that once held up the Lovejoy Street ramp that once bridged the freight tracks. According to Wikipedia accounts, the columns were painted by Greek immigrant Tom Stefopoulos between 1948 and 1952. In 1999, the viaduct was demolished but the columns were spared due to the efforts of the architectural group Rigga. For the next five years, attempts to restore the columns were unsuccessful and they remained in storage beneath the Fremont Bridge.
In 2005, two of the original columns were re-sited at Northwest 10th Avenue between Everett and Flanders Streets. These were what I spotted on my morning run. The Regional Arts & Culture Council was searching for photographs showing the murals in their original location for an ongoing restoration project. In 2006, Randy Shelton reconstructed the artworks on the columns using the photographs for reference. The once seedy grounds around the rail yard are now home to some of the priciest real estate in Portland. What was the perfect setting for this movie about drug theft is currently loaded with fine restaurants, luxury high rise condos, upscale businesses, and popular bars. “Formerly known as the Northwest Industrial Triangle, it was given its new name in 1985 by a gallery owner named Thomas Augustine, who told a magazine writer that the neighborhood’s artists, toiling away in old, crusty buildings, were like pearls inside oysters.”
I discovered this hidden Portland treasure that is just past the two-mile mark of my morning run. I will make a tradition out of circling around the columns before the last mile home. Today was number 3,952 on my quest to continue running every single day for as long as I can. Just after Christmas it will have involved eleven straight years of lacing up the shoes and completing at least a mile each day. Over the next two years, I’ve made plans to run in Spain, Portugal, Belgium, Norway, Russia, Finland, Indonesia, Egypt, and China, adding to my worldly roadwork accomplishments that already include the Caribbean, Mexico, Canada, France, the U.S. (at least 20 states), Netherlands, England, Croatia, Italy, Thailand, Greece, Tahiti, and Bora Bora. In the words of the band Queens of the Stone Age, “Feet don’t fail me now!”
Oh-oh-oh, feet don’t fail me now
Do whatcha gotta do
And do it now
Feet don’t fail me now
I just gotta move on
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Dean Anthony Fertita / Joshua Michael Homme / Michael Jay Shuman / Troy Dean Van Leeuwen
Feet Don’t Fail Me lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Another 100 blog posts on the record in the last 102 days, just slightly under my goal of one a day. In the move, I was off-line for several days coupled with some travel that took me out of my writing routine. It’s not like running where I can’t miss a day. Today was 3,948 consecutive, dodging more abandoned scooters than homeless people. Weekend nights are apparently good for the rental business. I’m familiar with DUI and even BUI, when it comes to boating, but is there such a thing as SUI? Scootering under the influence makes a helmet even more important. I just hope I don’t trip over a scooter since the sidewalk is not a responsible parking spot. I found one the other night blocking the entrance to our parking garage. I have no desire to ride one or even a bicycle, certainly an injury threat to my running streak. The uneven sidewalks in our neighborhood are enough of a concern.
The rain will continue into next week, but so far I’ve been able to catch some breaks in the morning hours. It’s several months before we travel again. The stand-up 1000 Places to See before I Die calendar gets thinner every day on my desk. It continues to show how little of the world I’ve really seen. This week featured photos of Bolivia, Wales, Ethiopia, South Africa, Japan, Jordan, and evasive Maine. Only Savannah, Georgia, America’s first planned city, has been explored by us. We spent some time there on a car trip to Hilton Head many years ago. It made me think of the book and movie Midnight in the Garden of Evil. We’ve done a thorough job of covering the Southern and Western U.S. states, but I’m still missing those very Northern locations like Maine and Alaska. They remain on my retirement radar.
Two weeks ago, I would have been taking out the trash and recycling today. Instead, it’s now just a matter of taking it down the hall to the garbage chute. Speaking of convenience, my wife and her daughter just got back from a walk to brunch just down the street at Pine Street Biscuits. They brought me mine, while I watched football. With the visit, we were able to pass along another throw rug that we no longer need in our carpeted bedrooms. While they spent time together, I had to keep a close eye on our dog Tally who insists on adopting our new chair as her own. She dug her way through the cushion of our last one that was sent to the junk pile last week. She also lost her sleeping couch in the move that she chewed up as a pup. Everyone is having to adapt to change here in our new apartment. Aging Tinker just finds a convenient spot on the floor when she’s not in the kitchen begging for food. I’m ready for a nap (or should I say hibernation?) after biscuits, brownies, cookies. and bad Bears football.
“We’re movin’ on up.” Well, actually we’re moving downtown and up three stories, but living in half the space for more per month. It doesn’t make sense in the short run, but in the long run we’re no longer property owners, maintaining the flexibility to move when we want. If property values come down as expected in an election year, we’ll have won the real estate game, for once. If not, at least we turned a profit on our Portland investment and will not be at the mercy of market trends. However, every month that we continue to pay more for less eats into that “temporary” windfall. We’ll need to find a retirement destination sooner than later!
Today is day 8 of the 16 that we will personally shuttle possessions from condo to apartment. On day 16, the movers will finally take what’s left. One load a day is exhausting for an old guy like me, but two days ago we did three. This is, of course, after running three miles every morning. My wife does most of the packing, while I do the loading and unloading. We’re Team Transit!
We’ll take a break today to see the new Downton Abbey movie, on Cinemark’s Discount Tuesday. Only $12 for both of us to get in, a bargain even bigger than the Monday Senior Citizen specials. Because of the British accents, It will undoubtedly be difficult for me to follow without closed captioning. I’ve taken strong advantage of this benefit while binge watching the series on TV. I’ll just be grateful to sit in that luxury lounger and not have to move clothes, books, and dishes. A brief moment of relaxation, that is now a distant memory of my former leisurely retirement routine. My how things have changed!
What would a blog like this be without mention of a dog or two. By happy chance, we have two to brag about. In this case, however, poor Tally spent nearly two hours at the vet yesterday afternoon. Pet. Vet. Debt. (See Post #493) The doctor was unable to determine the nature of her malady. She’s been lackadaisical and acts like she’s hacking up a hair-ball. Also, she hasn’t touched her dinner in two nights. Blood tests will be back today, and hopefully the antibiotics and fluids will help her feel better. We believe that she damaged her throat with a chew, but she’s also had to adapt to a new bed. Moving is changing all of our lives. It’s the first time she’s been the patient other than a routine annual physical. Typically, she’s in the examining room simply to support her older schnauzer-sister Tinker.
It was The Jefferson’s theme, “Movin’ On Up,” that came to mind regarding this particular move downtown. Although,“to a deluxe apartment in the sky” applies more to when we first came to Portland. My wife’s company put us up in a 12th floor glass box overlooking the city. This move reminds me more of the Beverly Hillbillies, with our convertible overflowing of rolled-up rugs, boxes, and furniture. We’re only up three floors above the street, next door to a sausage company. More urban than deluxe! However, we’re excited about the neighborhood that is filled with restaurants, small retailers, and youthful energy. I’m “up” for it!
As Eric Clapton sings “Let It Rain.” I’ve just returned from my morning run, soaked to the bone. Fortunately, I was able to get the dogs outside before it started. Their much anticipated “Schnauzerton” is now out of the question because somewhere in the middle of my 3.1 mile jaunt, it began to pour, and looks like it’s here to stay. I pulled my car into the garage and put the top down to accommodate some more boxes to drive down to the new apartment.
Yesterday, 1-800-GOT-JUNK stopped by and my wife and I moved part of a bedroom suite over to the neighbor’s garage. The first carload of non-junk then went to my stepdaughter’s house. This was soon followed by a drive to the apartment with a second load. By mid-afternoon, my wife and I were both exhausted, but continued to sort and organize for future trips. I watched the tragic but predictable end of the Cubs game and some college football before we both fell asleep in the middle of a Sopranos episode. Our dog Tally was obviously depressed from losing her chewed-up couch to the junk man. She refused to eat her dinner and retreated to a chair in my dark office. All of our lives are changing every day, as we continue to make the transition from home to apartment.
Today’s rain makes me feel like I’m not missing out on anything. We’ll soon drive downtown and separate our boxes between storage and closets and probably come back for another car-full or take more stuff to Goodwill. It’s been pretty much the same routine for the past week. Fortunately, my wife is no longer working and can devote most of her time to protective packing and unpacking, filling plastic tubs full of precious knick-knacks, glassware, and porcelain. My role is to load and unload, using my convertible like a pick-up truck. It’s then top-up or top-down, depending on the weather. Today is a top-up day, so I’m limited on how high I can stack boxes and clothes. Maybe I’ll get to watch some NFL football before the day is over? Let It Rain!
After this morning’s “Schnauzerton,” a visit from 1-800-GOT-JUNK, and two trips to our new downtown apartment to deliver carloads full of non-junk, I actually sat down and watched some college football. This was just after the Cubs blew another critical game, and I.U. claimed their third football victory of the season. I wanted to see the Oregon-Stanford match-up, but ended up flipping over to Notre Dame – Georgia. Early in the game, the Fighting Irish recovered a fumble and completed a pass in the end zone, however The Bulldogs had cleverly called timeout and the play was disallowed. As number 89 (currently Brock Wright) caught the ball for the temporary TD, it caused me to flash back to my childhood.
It was just after my 9th birthday (9/24/60, 59 years ago next week), and my dad took me to the University of California opener at Notre Dame Stadium. I remember only two things: the Golden Bear Mascot and my cousin’s #89 number. He was a sophomore Tight End on the 1960 team and my uncle John was an assistant coach. Their last name was Murphy, so they also had that Irish Catholic heritage that undoubtedly attracted them to Touchdown Jesus! They must have gotten tickets for my Dad and I, so this became my very first college football game. I had to look it up, because I definitely didn’t pay much attention to the game at that age. In fact, it reminds me of my own experience taking my son to his first high school basketball game. He was totally focused on the Tiger mascot of my team’s opponent, just as I spent the afternoon watching the Cal Dancing Bear.
My research this afternoon showed me that Notre Dame won the game 21-7 and nearly 50,000 fans were in attendance. It would be hard to not remember an experience like that! My dad went to Indiana University, and in fact hated Notre Dame, so I’m sure I didn’t get much encouragement in following the team that day. Maybe he even privately enjoyed the fact that I was following the Golden Bears? We did, of course, want to support my uncle and cousin, especially since they provided the tickets. As family, I’m certain we had good seats, plus we got together with them after the game. I also recollect my cousin as a giant, (probably 6’5″) and have a few black & white pictures with him in my scrapbook.
I did discover that Notre Dame had an awful team that year, winning only their first and last games and going 2-8 for the year. USC and California were their two victims. In my cousin’s Junior and Senior years they did improve to 5-5, with Daryle Lamonica at quarterback. Lamonica turned down a baseball contract with the Chicago Cubs and was drafted by the Buffalo Bills. I’m not really sure what happened to my cousin, to be quite honest. It seems like he went into coaching himself, but he’ll always be number 89 to me!
