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Archive for the ‘Dogs’ Category

These are times when I need the calming influence of nature to calm my thoughts. This photo is of Maggie at Andrew Jackson State Park in South Carolina, which I describe better in my book, Travels with Maggie. — Photo by Pat Bean

“What is history? An echo of the past in the future, a reflex from the future on the past.” – Victor Hugo

History in the Making

          I share a birth year with Lily Tomlin and Tina Turner. The three of us were all born in 1939. I discovered this fact while doing research for my memoir, which if it ever gets written will be called Between Wars.

The most significant events of 1939 were the official ending of the Great Depression and the official beginning of World War II. I was raised by a mother who had been influenced by the Depression and could make a penny stretch to the moon. While I’m not nearly as thrifty, it pains me to see things go to waste.

As for the war, I would only be six years old when it ended, and thus have few personal memories about it. The one thing I do recall, probably because I was severely scolded, was finding and childishly destroying the family’s stash of ration coupons. As I vaguely remember, it meant that I ate my cereal without sugar for the month. According to the history books I studied in school, items rationed during the war included sugar, meat, coffee, and automobile fuel.

I overheard a conversation once that left me believing my dad had illegally acquired gasoline to take my brother to the doctor. Knowing my dad, that’s quite possibly true, but he probably had to do so because he earlier wasted gas gadding about for his own purposes, Gas, by the way, cost about 17 cents a gallon in 1939

I compared rationing in my early years with what is going on in the world today because of the coronavirus pandemic. Stores here in Tucson, and elsewhere I’m sure, are limiting how much toilet paper, and other items considered essential to life as we know it, can be purchased to halt hoarding.

Meanwhile, on a much lighter note, there were some other interesting firsts for 1939.

Batman was introduced in Detective Comics No. 27 and Superman got his own comic book. John Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath was published and Raymond Chandler’s Philip Marlow character was introduced in The Big Sleep.

Premiering on the big screen were Gone with the Wind and The Wizard of Oz, while Hedda Hopper’s Hollywood gossip show made its radio debut. Nylon stockings went on sale for the first time and Harvard University students swallowed goldfish.

In New York, both the Baseball Hall of Fame and LaGuardia Airport opened.

Judy Garland’s Over the Rainbow topped the music charts, with Glenn Miller’s Moonlight Serenade coming in second, Kate Smith’s God Bless America third and Billie Holiday’s Strange Fruit fourth. It was Holiday’s first civil rights song.

I wonder if future 80-year-olds will look back on their own birth years – and discover that the coronavirus pandemic tops the list of significant events?

Bean Pat: A Slice of Life https://lindahoye.com/and-yet/ A reflective post for today’s times.

Pat Bean is a retired journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is a wondering-wanderer, avid reader, enthusiastic birder, Lonely Planet Community Pathfinder, Story Circle Network board member, author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon, and is always searching for life’s silver lining.

 

 

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Morning Thoughts

When Scmp gets bored, he looks for things to shred. This morning it was two bookmarks. At least he doesn’t eat the pieces, and I get plenty of exercise picking up after him. — Photo by Pat Bean

With a cup of cream-laced coffee in hand, and my canine companion Scamp squeezed into my recliner with me, I continued my morning perusal of Bartlett’s Familiar Quotes, the first edition of which was published 165 years ago. Just for fun, I’ve been reading a couple pages a day of the old book.

It’s arranged chronologically and I’ve only gotten up to the 300 B.C.s. This morning’s reading included words by the

Theocritus — Wikimedia photo

Greek poet Theocritus’ His thoughts echoed in my own mind, speaking to an old broad who has finally slowed down and longs for peace in her life — which given the chaos in the world has been difficult to achieve.

Wrote Theocritus: “Sweet is the whispering music of yonder pine that sings. Our concern be peace of mind: some old

crone let us seek. To spit on us for luck and keep unlovely things afar. Cicala to cicala, and ant to ant, And kestrels dear to kestrels, but to me the Muse and song.

“The frog’s life is most jolly, my lads; he has no care … Who shall fill up his cup; for he has drink to spare … Verily, great grace may go. With a little gift; and precious are all things that come from friends.”

I thought it interesting that on the same page, Bion, another Greek poet, also mentioned frogs: “Though boys throw stones at frogs in sport, the frogs do not die in sport, but in earnest.” A good point to ponder, I think.

And now I’ll go put up Bartlett until tomorrow morning, and go walk Scamp, He has been looking at me with injured eyes because I have been ignoring him.

I wonder if Theocritus and Bion ever used a dog as an analogy in their writings?”

Bean Pat: Never Assume https://forestgardenblog.wordpress.com/2020/02/23/sunday-dinner-never-assume/ My thoughts exactly.

Pat Bean is a retired journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is a wondering-wanderer, avid reader, enthusiastic birder, Lonely Planet Community Pathfinder, Story Circle Network board member, author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon, and is always searching for life’s silver lining.

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Sleep and Dreams

I often find myself in nature in my dreams. — Painting of Shone Falls by Thomas Moran, which was discovered at the Twin Falls, Idaho, Library when I lived there in the mid-1980s This would be a nice place to dream about. –

          “I put a piece of paper under my pillow, and when I could not sleep I wrote in the dark.” – Henry David Thoreau

Morning Chat

          I went ice skating last night. That’s amazing because in reality I never could do it. I played tennis, I hiked, I even roller skated. But I could never stand up on a slim blade of steel on ice.

But when I awoke this morning, the image of myself skimming around a frozen pond on skates was still vividly in my mind. I don’t remember anything else about the dream except the feeling of competently gliding across the ice.

It was wonderful, and I didn’t want to let it go. But go it went as soon as I opened my eyes to see my canine companion Scamp staring into them as his way of demanding his morning walk.

Scamp sitting on my bed watching me as I write this blog. He seems to be asking if I’m writing about him. — Photo by Pat Bean

I don’t sleep well these days, often waking frequently to shift into a more comfortable position or go to the bathroom, or to try and scoot Scamp over to his side of the bed. I think at least the first two awakenings are simply a side effect of being 80 years old, as I hear similar complaints from other oldsters among my acquaintances.

When I was younger, I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, and I awoke rarely remembering my dreams. These days, some mornings arrive with me feeling I never truly slept. I don’t worry about it, however.

I once read that if you close your eyes and lay still it’s as good as sleep. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but since I usually wake refreshed, I suspect it might be. Or else I sleep more than I think.

I do know I dream more, or at least remember more, and seldom are my dreams anything but pleasant. When I do have a nightmare it usually involves me back once again as a reporter chasing a story and in danger of missing a deadline.

I usually wake myself up before that happens. Then I lay still so as not to wake Scamp, who is ready to go for a walk the second his eyes open – even if it’s 4:30 a.m., as it was this morning.

I took him for his walk, then crawled back in bed for a rare, solid three hours of sleep before waking to find myself skimming across the ice on those thin steel blades.

  Bean Pat: 1WriteWay https://1writeway.com/picking-up-after-others-makeamericabeautifulagain-leaveonlyfootprints/ This is a writer’s blog I follow, but she has a non-writing goal that tunes into my soul. Let’s all do it.

Pat Bean is a retired journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is a wondering-wanderer, avid reader, enthusiastic birder, Lonely Planet Community Pathfinder, Story Circle Network board member, author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon, and is always searching for life’s silver lining.

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Smiles

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. – Leo Buscaglia

My canine companion Scamp — who is quite aptly named — makes me smile every day. I took this photo of him last night as he claimed the pillows I tossed off my bed before I crawled into it. He followed me onto the bed. Did I mention he is a bed hog? — Photo by Pat Bean

Morning Chat

As I was driving out of the library parking lot the other morning, a woman passed by with such a big smile on her face that I stopped the car, rolled down the window and told her she had a beautiful smile.

I often make art that makes me smile. What makes you smile?

She thanked me and indicated the load of books in her arms, and said it was because of the wonderful library we had.

Now I love this library, but it’s a small branch and not really grand at all. I suspected that this woman was one of those people who was always smiling. If so, she was a kindred spirit.

Back in the 1990s when I was a reporter covering Utah’s Hill Air Force Base, my newspaper’s publisher wanted a photo of me for a promo ad. One of the paper’s photographers took a dozen or more and gave them to the publisher to choose which to use.

The publisher rejected everyone, then called me into his office, and told me he wanted a picture of me looking serious and not smiling. So back I went for another photo session, in which I found it almost impossible not to smile.

I thought about this after reading a memoir in which the author said: Perhaps one day, I’ll be able to swagger into a room with a bad-ass attitude instead of a wide-mouthed smile.

An interesting idea, I thought, contemplating just such an action. And then I thought of how the smiling face of the woman at the library had cheered me. I could do with more smiling faces these days — and less bad-ass attitudes.

          Bean Pat: I just finished reading The Salt Path by Raynor Winn. I loved this book and highly recommend it. It’s a book about overcoming loss, facing reality and simply surviving and carrying on.

Pat Bean is a retired journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is a wondering-wanderer, avid reader, enthusiastic birder, Lonely Planet Community Pathfinder, Story Circle Network board member, author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon, and is always searching for life’s silver lining.

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The Mystery of Disappearing Time

I can’t believe it is only five days until Christmas.

          “The trouble is, you think you have time.” Buddha

Only Five Days until Christmas

          Now that all but one of the packing boxes have been taken down to the recycling bin and things – including all that stuff I can’t understand where it came from — are mostly put in place, I took a deep breath this morning with my cream-laced coffee and realized Christmas is only five days away?

Scamp is a bewildered as I am about the disappearance of time, or so I imagine. This will be his first Christmas. I bought him a no-pull harness. But I think that is more of a Christmas gift for me than him. — Photo by Pat Bean

That’s just not possible, my confused brain said, despite the calendar’s confirmation. But then one of the most-used phrases in my journals, after a lapse of writing in them, is: Where in the heck has time disappeared?

          The big moving day to my new apartment was 16 days ago. I guess I just put everything on hold until I got resettled. Surely it didn’t take me over two weeks to do that?

As an old broad with more time behind her than ahead of her, the hours have become more precious with each passing day. I don’t want to lose a precious minute of them.

But growing older has also given me the wisdom to appreciate the positive more than the negative. And so, as I slowly sipped my coffee, I looked around at my new, larger, brighter digs, and gave myself a pat on the back for a job well done.

While Christmas might only be five days away, there is still time to do a little decorating. So, where in the heck did I put my Christmas decorations?

Bean Pat: Raindrops https://mybeautfulthings.com/2019/12/19/raindrops-another-leaf-and-love/ I like this blog because it reinforces my thinking that the little things in life are the most important.

Pat Bean is a retired journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is a wondering-wanderer, avid reader, enthusiastic birder, Lonely Planet Community Pathfinder, Story Circle Network board member, author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon, and is always searching for life’s silver lining.

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Early morning view of Mount Lemmon taken while walking Scamp. — Photo by Pat Bean

          “Everybody should have a shelter dog. It’s good for the soul.” – Paul Shaffer

Who Needs a Gym Membership?

          Scamp, my rowdy, half-trained canine companion, wakes me shortly before 6 a.m., impatiently eager for our morning walk. He snuggles next to me and kisses my face sweetly. He is always sweet in the morning. I scratch behind his ears, run my hands over his furry body, and rub the night boogers away from his eyes.

And then, to complete our morning ritual, I ask him if he’s ready for our walk. His reply is to wiggle all over, give me one last sloppy kiss, and then to hop down from the bed, but only after I have at least one foot on the floor. I don’t think he trusts that I really will get up.

Can’t you put your shoes on faster? I imagine Scamp asking as he waits for his morning walk. –Photo by Pat Bean 

Scamp then paces around me as I throw on some clothes, and lies in front of me as I sit in my living room recliner to put on my shoes and lace them up. This latter behavior is much appreciated. I adopted Scamp as an eight-month-old from a rescue shelter in May, and for the next two months, he kept attacking my feet as I tried to put on my shoes.

With a good grip on his leash, I open the door and tell him to wait before we walk down three flights of stairs. He is slowly learning to do that, but I always hang on to the railing as we go down. Sometimes he’s still too much of a puppy to go at my pace.

Once down, Scamp takes a long pee, and I praise him, thankful that he is now sleeping all through the night without a potty break. Then we take a meandering walk through my large apartment complex, with Scamp marking most trees as we pass them. He usually waits until we get to an upper courtyard level before doing his other business, which I dutifully pick up and dispose of at the pooper station.

Most mornings, it’s just the two of us out an about. It’s peaceful. I love the freshness of a morning with the sun peeking up from the horizons. We have resident great horned owls, and sometimes they are still up and, hooting from one of the tall trees. The morning view of Mount Lemmon, never quite the same, lifts my soul and prepares it for the day ahead.

If there are others up at this early hour, walking their dogs or heading off to work, Scamp wants to greet them. He’s become a favorite of many of the residents and mostly they stop and give him a pat or two.

Scamp, since I adopted him, has never met a human or a dog he doesn’t like. That makes up for a lot of his other faults, like pulling, chewing and demanding attention.

Once back in my apartment, I feed Scamp before brushing my teeth and making coffee for myself. Most mornings I drink my coffee on my third-floor balcony with a book in my hand and Scamp at my feet watching the world go by below.

I can’t think of a better way to start my day – which will include at least four more walks for Scamp and me. He and the stairs are this 80-year-old’s exercise plan – a rare one that can’t be skipped.

I count myself blessed.

Bean Pat: Writing myths https://ryanlanz.com/2019/10/05/6-myths-about-writing-2/ One of the writing blogs I follow.

Pat Bean is a retired journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is a wondering-wanderer, avid reader, enthusiastic birder, Lonely Planet Community Pathfinder, Story Circle Network board member, author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon, and is always searching for life’s silver lining.

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Scamp: The Scamp

            “Because of the dog’s joyfulness, our own is increased. It is no small gift.” – Mary Oliver

He’s a scamp, but he’s my Scamp. — Photo by Jean Gowen

Dynamite on Four Legs

            There is a saying about being careful what you ask for. While still grieving for the loss of my canine companion Pepper, I saw this picture of an adorable eight-month-old puppy, or so the shelter said. I suspect now, judging by his continuing puppy mannerisms and how much he has grown since May, that he might have been a bit younger.

Dang dog!!!! — Photo by Pat Bean

The important thing, however, is that the minute I saw what I thought was her face but turned out to be his face, my heart did a jazz dance. “I want this dog,” I wailed, knowing he was over 800 miles away from my home in Tucson.

The tears worked. With the help of a good friend, Scamp – who was Smidge at the shelter and Harley until I realized his true name was Scamp – now belongs to me. He weighed 18 pounds when I got him, and now, I’m guessing, weighs 30 pounds. I’m hoping he won’t get  much bigger.

The best thing about him is that he has never met a person or a dog, German shepherds and English bulldogs included, that he doesn’t like, and hasn’t got a mean bone in his furry body.

On the other hand, he wasn’t house broken when I got him. To get him to that stage, I walked him every hour for two weeks – and I live in a third-floor walk-up apartment. We’re now down to five or six walks a day, the first one at 5 a.m. He is this old-broad’s exercise plan, I should note.

Photo taken this morning of Scamp and his best friend, Dusty, sitting nicely — for treats. — Photo by Pat Bean

Scamp is sassy and wants his way, and pulls when he wants to go in the opposite direction than I do on our walks. I’m working on that. He comes about 50 percent of the time when called, but is good at sitting – for a treat. The word NO is still a foreign language to him, but I have this loud YEECCK sound when I am really exasperated that he seems to understand.

The second I sit down in a chair, he hops in my lap and proceeds to push the book away, or else try to chew on it. He is seriously cutting into my reading time. He doesn’t like me talking on the phone either, or being on my computer. He thinks he should have all my attention.

I’ve kept track, and so far, he has torn up 10 rolls of toilet paper — make that 11. Between the time I started writing this and now, he got another roll that I forgot to put back on a HIGH shelf when the phone rang and interrupted my brain,

He’s chewed up two plastic dog dishes, a plastic plate, one pen, one leash, and I now have chew marks on one of my dining room chairs. A cardboard box is his favorite toy. He tears it into penny-size pieces for me to pick up.

But he’s mine, and I love him. He’s a damn lucky dog!

Bean Pat: Nature up Close https://tom8pie.com/2019/08/26/global-dragonfly/#like-13543 global dragonfly.

Check out Travels with Maggie on Amazon.

Pat Bean is a retired journalist who lives in Tucson. She is a wondering-wanderer, avid reader, Lonely Planet Community Pathfinder, Story Circle Network board member, author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon, enthusiastic birder, and is always searching for life’s silver lining

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