Dogs

Ruby says hello from Portugal. She's a nine year old pug.

The High Park Swimming Pool had its annual free for all for dogs. I never attended when Shakedown was alive as she didn't like being in water when other dogs were around. This year, I got in the pool with 60 or so unfamiliar dogs and 3 I know quite well. It was a bit of chaos but managed to get a few good shots.

So you remember Flowers, the very good dog mom? She found me again and asked me to follow. Sal happened to be around and was up for an adventure, so she came too.

Flowers led us to the neighboring property, the abandoned Orem University, where she'd hidden her five pups under an old chapel. We gathered up all six of them and took them to the vet.

The vet was not so happy to see us. She sensed (correctly) that we were going to leave mom and pups for her to treat and find homes for. It was a weird situation: the dogs weren't ours, and vets and food ain't free. I was a fish out of water, culture-wise, but I slipped the vet some vatu on our way out.

So this very good girl wandered up while I was having lunch with John, Sal, and Geoff and Lorraine, two friends from down the beach. We had an instant connection. I have a natural instinct for naming dogs on first contact and as I lowered to her, I said, "Hey, Flowers, how you doing?", and gave her some good rubs. She flipped onto her back, and I could see she'd recently given birth.

John chided me a little for being friendly to an island dog. You don't want them coming around; it's not fair to the dog who actually lives on the property. I knew that, and made a mental note to keep my nature in check.

Sal and John's dog, Coco. A very island dog.

Broke up a dog fight yesterday and got chomped by a dog I've known for years who was absolutely losing it. Thankfully, didn't break the skin (much), but it's a helluva tender bruise.