Thursday, April 23, 2015

Cat in the 'hood

UH OH, THE CAT IS COMING
It must occur daily. The walk by of the cat. First in front of our house and then a turn up our neighbor's driveway. Our neighbor does not have pets. The cat must know this. I do not know if the cat has an owner in the 'hood. I don't see a collar. Liam knows the cat is coming before I do. The racket that precedes its walk by our window is chaotic and sudden and jarring. The noise all emanates from Liam. Each sighting is the same. Liam listens, then watches and finally explodes into an instinct driven chase, barking all the while.
He races to the window, frantic that he will miss the cat. Hooks his paws to the window ledge for the best view. The cat strolls by. And I mean strolls. The cat often pauses and they lock eyes. As the cat reaches the end of the driveway and is almost out of sight Liam bolts from the living room to the kitchen side door and body slams it. His poochie bells jangle. The string of bells hang on the doorknob and their sound is normally  my signal to release him to the backyard. Liam understands that being outside will give him a better chance of a close encounter with the cat. And the cat understands that as long as Liam is inside it will be safe.
                                                             I am not letting you out Liam. 
                                                                           So stop it.

Eventually the cat disappears into the shrubs of our neighbor's yard. A spent Liam stretches out. And we wait for the next time.

Meow, meow...Woof, woof

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Dog Run

THINKING OF THE DOG RUN
I know they are coming before my Mom Carol sees them. By the time they are visible to my humans I am in full bark. Who are they? The dogs of New Hyde Park! I have my couch perch; my seat marked with a plaid towel. The street I am watching is Leonard Boulevard. Many of the dogs will pause at our Baxter Ave corner stop sign. I guess they are obeying the sign's command and while there are savoring stored smells and markings left by others. I bark and bark to say my hellos. This is my favorite view of the boulevard.
EYE ON THE CORNER STOP SIGN
I jump up and stand tall to make myself bigger. Sometimes my doggy buds react by facing in my direction. I know they hear me. Let's meet I think  But where? We should have a place.
THEY ARE ALMOST AT THE CORNER
They move along and I settle back down. If only we could meet and play. The town park is across the street from the stop sign. It is called Tully Park. Much unused land. A potential playground waits. However, no dogs are allowed inside.
GUESS THEY TURNED BACK
My parents talk about a place for dog play. Daddy Paul received some info while we were on a walk. I hear about a Dog Run. I listen intently whenever the idea comes up.
A gathering place for all of us. Here in New Hyde Park. Yes, across the street at Tully Park. A recent meeting took place right outside its Leonard Boulevard entrance. A meeting on a snowy March Tuesday. Mom was at a library activity. I know she would have joined in, had she been available. 
See link for our story and see a photo of my friends. You may know some of them. My friend Wrigley Wilbur is a featured participant.
WRIGLEY WILBUR (Wrigs)
Please check out the link for the dog run photo (Wrigs is in it) and story
A Dog Run at Tully Park would be ideal. Wrigs and I could play. I could hang with all my buds. Mom and Dad could be with me. I would be safe. Maybe I would learn some commands. Maybe I could teach the younger dogs some tricks. Mom says they could teach me a few tricks also. I jump up on people because I am glad to see them. If I knew I could see them often I would not have to be so exuberant. I would restrain myself and use my energy to play in the dog run.
A dog run would bring the community together by offering a place to meet, chat and share info. We would be centralized. Happy viewing for passersby. A secure sanctioned environment. Healthy. Exercise. Unleashed!
Mom is part of an email group of supporters. I can only bark out my support. And I do. 
There are many new friends to meet. I see new dogs in the 'hood all the time.
For now I wait on the couch to be taken out.
ARE WE GOING OUT?
I WANT A DOG RUN
We will take care of our Dog Run. It will have a positive culture. And will benefit the community. Supportive of all. We are looking to have involvement. Will keep you posted. 
Woof, Woof

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Lost, Late, Last


SEARCHING
I am often perplexed when folks tell me they get lost. Why don't they use GPS? It is available on every device. And there are online maps. And well, really, how the heck can someone not be prepared? Make a test run. I do.
I am impatient; shaking my head about those bewildered lost folks who are calling, texting, frantically running to make it to an event...it is impossible to get lost nowadays. Really it is.
Except I do. Often. And I had a whopper lost episode last Saturday. We have a sisters-in-law lunch at Seasons 52, a high end restaurant ostensibly in Roosevelt Field. Check it out, link follows
 https://www.seasons52.com/
I am prepared. I have the event date on my iPhone calendar which includes a link and directions and a map. I have the Open Table invite email. I know my route. The trip is supposed to take 15-19 minutes depending on traffic. I allow 45...this will enlarge my arrival window enough to avoid any possibility of lateness or lostness. I have a map propagated from the link. The screen shot of it below does not seem correct. The pin is plunked down on a Subway. Maybe Seasons 52 is also the name of a sandwich.
The second map below shows Seasons 52 next to the Grand Lux cafe. I have this from a Google map app on my phone. Hmm. This discrepancy does not affect my confidence in finding it. I figure I will easily locate it once there.
I have the directions (see screen shot below) and I follow the suggested route. I turn right once. I disregard the instructions after the fourth line. I begin the descent into LOST.
 THE ROAD NOT TRAVELED
I enter the parking maze.
Cars are traveling unlawfully and recklessly. You see, it has snowed (as usual) and there are soft slushy areas as well as granite hard dirt and pebble encrusted snow mountains. These conditions reduce the number of spots. I have a car not a SUV so after a few go rounds I am able to insert it into a half spot; the front of which harbors a small iceberg. Being small and flanked by a huge van, I do not stick out too much. I take it.
Saturday at Roosevelt Field is nightmarish to me. I try to always shop online to avoid going near a mall. Yet, here I am on Saturday at Roosevelt Field. And it is a Saturday after a brutal winter and on the first full day of spring. Eager groups of shoppers careen into me. They unknowingly whack me with their packages. Folks do not realize how much wider they are with their purchases hanging from them.
IS THERE A VIRTUAL PLAYGROUP?
Years ago I was able to negotiate visits to the mall. I had a plan. I would park up top and descend via an escalator. I experienced little human contact. Was in and out. Efficient. Pleasing. I now rarely go to the mall. I am out of practice by at least a decade.
Where is the restaurant?
WHERE IS IT?
Its address is 630 Old Country Road. Of course it is nowhere near Old Country Road. I know this because I came down Old Country Road. I see Dick's Sporting Goods and its address is 600. Okay, Seasons 52 must be nearby. I still don't see it. I feel panic washing over me. I retrieve my phone, tap my contacts. The alphabetical order dictates which sister-in-law gets the first distress call. No answer. I leave a message. As I talk I hear myself becoming unraveled. I might have even denounced Saturday shopping at Roosevelt Field as well the mall venue concept. I sort of remember adding that I might go home. Really. I think I did. I walk for another 10 minutes. Why can I not see it? Proceeding in alphabetical order in my contacts, I phone the next sister-in-law...call does not seem to connect. Irony. I am a person who never makes calls and I have made two. I decide to enter the mall and find a directory. No entrances. How do I get in? Through Penney's? Through Dick's Sporting Goods? I walk and walk. My window of being early is rapidly closing. It is now 12:50 and the reservation is at 1PM. I am irrationally terrified of being late and phobic about being last. Last and on time is disturbing for me. Lost and Late is a condition that engenders a profound negative shift in my view of myself.
HOW DO I GET IN?
Way down on the side I find an entrance and go in. Oh no, this is not better. Swarming shoppers. A cacophony assaults my ears and I consider removing my hearing aids fearing I might lose more hearing. No sense of urgency exhibited by the crowd, they are strolling. But I need to move quickly. Time is running out.
WHICH WAY?
No directory, not a one.
I ask directions of a salesman. He is stationed at a kiosk. Never heard of Seasons 52. He is sorry. I head down the other side. Cognizant that I look crazed. My anxious demeanor contrasts with the desultory movement of the groups of shoppers. I have my phone out and am using the GPS. It shows I am 5 minutes from Seasons 52. I have been 5 minutes away at every point since I parked my car.
ALONE IN A CROWD
I enter a posh jewelry store thinking these folks will know of a non-Food Court restaurant. They don't. And they are also sorry. Me too. I am very sorry. I know I have to get out of the mall. Seasons 52 must not be in the mall! Where is it? No exit. I must enter a store to escape. I race toward Macy's. I have traveled the length of the mall, both sides. I have to go through Macy's to get out. I do.
I see a Macy's guard as I am exiting. I ask him if he knows of Seasons 52. He says "I think it is on the outside." My aha moment. Of course it is. All the good restaurants are. And that is why it has an address. Why would restaurant in a mall need an address? Only outside restaurants need an address. Sigh. I am now out in the parking lot. Alone. Silence
Now I will be able to walk the perimeter and find Seasons 52. Not so fast. The entire facade is under construction. No signs visible, only scaffolding. I make a third call to my next in line sister-in-law. Success. An answer and directions. I have made 3 personal phone calls in one day. A record. One I hope to never break. I now am going to be a few minutes late as well as last. But not left out which is my worst fear. I arrive at 1:05. Late and Last but not Lost and Left out.

Questions
Why did I enter the mall? 
Why didn't I follow the instructions?
Why didn't I turn on my phone while driving and listen to the GPS?
Why didn't I call the restaurant?
Why did I walk left and not right?
Why didn't I use my "lost" time wisely and buy shoes on my way through Macy's? Or at least accept the ubiquitous offers of free sprays of perfume?
Why do have all these issues? 

I think it is some sort of psychotic episode brought on by my Saturday mall fear and fueled by my regular "l" issues...lose, last, late, left out.

My favorite TV show of all time is Lost. See link for a refresher. It ended 5 years ago. May 2010.
No one was ever as lost as those folks. In June 2010, I bought a Ford Focus. I named him, Sawyer, after my favorite Lost character James "Sawyer" Ford. Here he is:
http://lostpedia.wikia.com/wiki/James_%22Sawyer%22_Ford
Maybe I am trying to channel the Losties' experience.
In the end they all found one another. It took a while (some were lost for eons) but they did. 
And so did I.

Exiting the mall area is accomplished swiftly.
Once home, I perform a hard reboot to put myself back on a rational track. This "restart" consists of a visit to the health club. I walk on the treadmill and read. Walking and reading transport me to another zone. Exhaust the body, focus the mind and override emotions.
Later that evening I complete the reboot with some red wine.
Brain rewired. All is okay.
Who was that "lost, late, last person? Not me. How in the world do people get lost? Seriously...there are devices...
Safe at home again.

And do try the restaurant. It is classy and cozy and peaceful. An antidote to the mall experience. No need to even go near the stores. Seasons 52 is only tangentially in the Roosevelt Field mall. Actually best to think of it as located in Garden City.

Woof, Woof

Thursday, March 12, 2015

Time Marches Onward

LIAM AT HIS PERCH DURING MARCH 5 STORM

My mother Ruth said that a lot. It went like this "Carol, time marches onward" then the addendum, "tempus fugit." Imprinting in my brain a vague anxiety as well as a future affinity for Latin.
I checked out the first quote and found many have said something similar and that there is no definitive attribution.
The tempus fugit phrase was easier to find.
See the following link
Guess she liked delivering well timed announcements.

Timeline
January
Watching the Honeymooner marathon on New Year's Day.
Hunkering down awaiting the storm of the century on January 26.
February
Canceled and rescheduled over and over.
March 
Snuck in on a Sunday and somehow we are already in the middle of it!
Tempus Fugit.
Lots of expectations for this month. A lion represents its arrival and a lamb its end. Snow piled high. Streets narrowed by encroaching snow. A swing month. Something of everything.
Hiatused shows returning, number of awards shows diminishing. Liam watched all. But lost interest during the Oscars after he saw his namesake Liam Neeson.
LIAM TURNS AWAY 
after seeing his namesake Liam Neeson present an award, 
no longer interested
The other seasons slide into each other easily...fall into winter, spring into summer. Winter into spring...not as easy. And March has both...the juxtaposition is often jarring.
The archaic and annoying daylight savings time is implemented, stealing an hour from us.
Ten feet of snow on the ground in places. Sunlight glaring off the snow. What a jumble of images and events.

We will share our March jumble.in this week's LiamLicks.
March
Since the New Year we have been anticipating turning the page to March on our Pet Valu calendar. Our New Hyde Park Pet Valu is adjacent to our Starbucks so we see it on a daily basis. Pet Valu produces its own calendar and the monthly featured pets are winners of a contest that was held in August/September 2014. The 13 (cover included) pets who made it received the most votes. It feels like only yesterday that we brought home the calendar!
PET VALU CALENDAR COVER
March is the first month featuring a dog. And he is a customer at our New Hyde Park Pet Valu! 
January had a ferret, February a cat. March's portrait is of Ricky. See him third from the left.. 
I thought we had a chance of Liam making it onto the calendar. Fresh off our Animal League poster selection, I thought Liam had it in the bag. Not. I missed the cues as to what would appeal. A seasonal motif. The dog as the star. No accoutrements. Our photo entry follows.You can see it does not fit...too many pillows, too many gifts. The couch is bigger than Liam. Should have done some cropping and zooming in.
OUR ENTRY

Ricky is an outstanding choice. One brown eye, one blue. And wearing a jazzy green neck scarf with a St. Patrick's Day theme. Of course! Perfect for March. Liam is okay with his non-selection. After all his photo hangs on Pet Valu's wall all year long. Thank You!
RICKY
Treats will always distract from a disappointment and Liam is enjoying St. Patrick's yummies from his Aunt. He nibbles on small pieces each day. We are trying to make them last till next week. As I hand them down to him I have to suppress the urge to try one. The company says they are fine for humans.
                                                                   We have a big storm. Then melting. The temps rise and fall.
7 degrees is the new 20
30 degrees is the new 50
over 50 has people in shorts and coatless

          Inclement weather. 
Snowy and sunny. Cold. Warmer. March is a wild mix. We are inside and outside. Adjusting to each day. And the days feel as if they are flying by. The hour we lost last weekend propels us into the second week of March. Soaring temps. These will soon to be a memory as winter settles in again next week.
KEETS, KRISTIN AND KAYSAR 
viewing the storm from the safety of their cage
LIAM AND I SHELTERING IN PLACE
and below more photos from these two weeks




















PASSING THE TIME WITH COUCH AND KONG

    


TIME 

MARCHES

ONWARD


TEMPUS 

FUGIT

   


 Woof, Woof

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Chopped by Butter Boy

WAITING FOR KIBBLE, DREAMING OF BUTTER
We don't give Liam much human food. A little here and there. A plop of peanut butter and a few latte foam licks and turkey slices for training. Oh and Greek yogurt licks and some popcorn Friday's after Crabtree's. Therefore when he snagged part of Daddy Paul's buttered bagel and a lamb chop in the same day he scored a feast bigger than anything he has had in a long time.

Butter Boy
Liam loves butter. We know from his repeat upward leaps whenever butter is out on the kitchen counter. A few months ago he earned his sobriquet "butter boy" by sucking in a quarter pound of butter. He paw-swiped it off the counter. I heard the clatter of the fallen dish and spied the stick as it was sliding backward into his mouth. I reached for it but butter is impossible to grip. Land o Lakes, Liam's favorite. We now know to push it far back on the counter.
We affectionately call him Butter Boy when the butter is on the counter and in use.

Following photos illustrate the butter incident.
HMM I SMELL LAND O LAKES
GOT IT!

Buttered Bagel
On a recent Sunday Paul received two phone calls. The compelling ring of the land line still causes Paul to run to answer. We were expecting a call from a snow removal service. In this frigid snowy winter that is a call one wants to answer. Paul jumped and ran for it. Just as quickly Liam jumped at the bagel resting on the arm of the couch. I was in the room but do not possess the leaping ability of a beagle boy zeroed in on a buttered bagel. He got it. I ripped it from his mouth. This was a Starbucks bagel and they are cakey not chewy. It broke into pieces. And I got most of it back. I am sure this partial meal whetted Liam's appetite.
And there would be more.

WATCHING AND WAITING
The Lamb Chop
Late in the day Paul was doing the garbage chore. Tying up the hefty bag and putting it out. Another phone call. Quick one, Liam quick also. Bag left on floor. Liam's head in it, rummaging and sniffing and pushing its contents around
and emerging with a dryer sheet hanging from his mouth concealing what I suspected was a lamb chop. Or the remains. I ran after him. Paul joined in. To the back of the couch, then to the love seat, Paul at one end me at the other...we cornered him and dragged him out. I then put my hand in his mouth. Really. I did that. In an adult dog's mouth with greenie strengthened teeth. I used to do it when he was a puppy and he always relinquished the item. His teeth clamped on my hand. Grownup Liam does not surrender anything once it is  in his mouth. To save me Paul got turkey and peanut butter to distract Liam. It worked. After an interminable wait I was able to pull out my hand. The chop was ground to bits and swallowed. 

Photo reenactment of the lamb chop hide and seek by Liam's stunt double
BEHIND COUCH-CHOP HIDING PLACE
BEHIND LOVE SEAT
CHECKING FOR PARENTS
What a day.

Lessons 
Let the answering machine get the call.
Never take eyes off Liam when food is out
Do not put hand into dog's mouth.  My hand came dangerously close to being chopped.
Teach Liam the "drop it" command

Meanwhile Liam is off to dreamland; his toys watching over him. A wildly satisfying hunt will cause a dog to feel sleepy...and no longer interested in us. 
Woof, Woof