Saturday, May 29, 2010
Sibe Got Your Voice?
Kona showed me her post by the window, letting me know my actions were not OK. . .
I've banned local trails. Between Kona's foxtail scare at the beginning of the month and her vet visit this week, we've had enough close encounters of the sticker kind. An overreaction? Well, between those two blogged about stories, I also had to do some precarious pulling to remove a foxtail from the tip of Kona's nostril, plus I preformed full-on mini surgery to remove a sticker from inside her mouth. Four incidents in 20 days. (I promise, this is with me trying to keep her away from anything dry.) The numbers aren't in our favor.
We need trails, but foxtail season may last until November. I have an idea to get back onto dirt, but more on that next week.
So what's a girl to do?
To the neighborhood we went! I take Kona on neighborhood walks about three or four times a week, just before we head to the trails. We only go a few blocks and I keep a close eye on Kona's nerves. I felt hopeful this morning. Maybe we could go further...get a real workout in.
I leashed Kona and headed out the door. I could tell that the vet spookiness still lingered, but she still found things to sniff and ate some sausage. Then, around the corner, the paperboy made his way up the street. Oh #*#&.
I contribute Kona's wariness of cars to too many encounters with our paperboy. He's all of Kona's fears, rolled into one vehicle. He's unpredictable. His car drives on the wrong side of the road, stops, starts, U-turns. He gets in and out of the car. And, of course, he throws a paper out his window. Kona's not into him.
I would have hightailed it, but the paperboy headed towards home, so we kept going. To my utter joy, Kona was willing to take treats from me! Within a half block, she found something to sniff! Kona use to panic to the point of pulling her body sideways as she strained at the leash to run away. I did an internal victory dance.
Unfortunately, she couldn't completely recover, so we turned around after four blocks. I needed to run to push off the anxiety of the week, so I dropped Kona off and headed back out. My shins protested the concrete, but it felt good to move.
When I returned home, I got the full report. As soon as I left for my run, Kona bolted to the window and started howl-crying. Oh boy. She hasn't done that since she was four months old when she was learning to be left alone. I didn't have to ask for more details, I knew exactly how she sounded. It wasn't her pitiful whimper, it was a full blown wake the entire block. I don't think she liked the new routine.
Camera Saga Story
Yesterday, I called the camera repair service from my home in Los Angeles and talked to a man from Sweden who was working out of a call center in Costa Rica. Perhaps with the international support, my camera will make its way home.