Queen for a Day (Almost)

Another week, another walk. Today four WWTs and I hoofed it to the Trinity University campus. Just as we got back to our starting point in Olmos Park, we spied Martha, who had run late. So as not to disappoint her (and I suspect because they wanted to keep on talking) Mary and Ann walked with Martha to a nearby bakery.

Now the Bistro Bakery as it is called is some kind of place. They have mouth watering French- style treats, but what takes them over the top is that they welcome dogs to their outdoor tables. The owner, Lucile Watel, even came out to greet me. Of course as a princess I’ve come to expect such courtesies but in today’s world one doesn’t always receive her due.

Yesterday, I received another courtesy befitting my status. Mary and her friend, Karen Condit, have a harmonica class on Tuesday nights. Karen-- an artist--brought to class a pastel of my profile. I have to admit it is a beautiful rendering, one that does full justice to my remarkably well shaped snout. Mary plans to hang it near a line drawing Karen did of me earlier.

This afternoon I had another recognition of my princess status: I got to ride in a parade. Because she has written the centennial history of the Alamo Heights Independent School District, Mary was asked to ride in the Howdy Night Parade. And guess who got to go with her? From the window of a red Toyota Tundra with her name on the side we surveyed our “subjects.” I must admit I felt more like queen for a day than a mere princess. That is until the parade was over and we had no ride home. We hitched up our coronation gowns (just kidding) and hiked home.

One more thing: There was exciting news from Austin on Friday when Maverick emailed a photo of a pinky brown egg. At last his chickens have started laying and he’s eggs-static.

San Pedro Springs Park Birthday Bash

Yesterday the Wednesday Walkie Talkies tossed a surprise birthday party for my mistress. But I’ll get to that later.

First, they walked to the second oldest park in the country. San Pedro Park was once lush and green, due to springs. The day we went, they were dry. But near them was an intriguing fern-covered grotto built in the late 19^th century. WWT member Merribell, who directed the Columbus, Ohio Art Museum, explained to everyone that grottos used to be popular outdoor features, adding a romantic touch.

While the ladies paused to take in the grotto I sniffed around a bit. Since the grass was wet due to yesterday’s downpour, I didn’t really care that Mary didn’t release me from my leash. Princess that I am, I really don’t like traipsing in mud, even if it is the first time we’ve had anything but cracked earth in I-don’t-know-when.

Did I remember to say that it was chilly? That was another novelty today, given that the temperature’s been in the three digits for the last couple of months.

After a walk in the park the ladies headed back to Monte Vista, where Mary had arranged for them to take tea at the home of her daughter-in-law. It turned out there was a surprise when they got there. Ann and Carol, two WWTs known for their quirky decorator sense, had collaborated on a greeter in the dining room: a piñata in the shape of a buzzard with a crown that spelled out Happy Birthday. Mary was overcome.

The tea party turned more festive yet when Carol brought out a bottle of Two-Buck Chuck wine and Ann shared a Sister Schubert breakfast cake. The ladies cut loose and had a fine time hearing stories about Turkey from WWT Mary Lil, who had just returned from there.

Everything was perfect but for one little detail: I hate to sound whiny but where was MY treat?

Niagara Falls, Captivity

Last Wednesday, right after the Wednesday Walkie Talkies walk, Mary dropped me off at the vet’s so she and Lewis could attend his 50^th high school reunion in upstate New York. WITHOUT ME. So while my mistress and master went to Niagara Falls and celebrated with his classmates, I was cooped up in a cage at Dr. Kothman’s. (At least Mary thought to bring my bed and favorite blanket with pictures of princesses on it.)

During five days of confinement, I mulled over several matters. One was an article that Mary read in the New York Times just before she left, about the reason for domestication of dogs. According to some scientists, it was not for companionship, protection, work or warmth. In fact, it was for food. At least, I thought, when my master and mistress come back for me, I won’t be on the dinner menu.

Another thing I pondered while in captivity was something Mary’s former co-worker, Anita, wrote in an email after reading my last blog entry. She had the temerity to suggest that I hid the old harness because I “really just wanted some new ‘bling.’” Needless to say, I take umbrage at this baseless accusation. (Even if it wasn’t a half bad idea.)

Now on to today’s WWT adventure. There were four ladies today, including a new member, the mistress of Bumper-- the friendly dog I memorialized a couple of weeks ago. Susan is a bit younger than the other ladies and walks briskly with what looks like ski poles. We didn’t stop as much this time (which I didn’t like) and I attribute it to their keeping pace with Susan. Since she and another WWT, Ann, are in training for a walkathon I fear this is going to be the drill from now on.

The only thing of note on the walk through Olmos Park and Monte Vista today was when we came upon a fledgling golden-fronted woodpecker in the middle of the street. My mistress, Mary, picked it up and put it on a bush, where it started squawking. Thanks goodness she didn’t decide to rescue it as I really value my beauty sleep, me being a princess and all.

New harness, Hondo Creek

Today when the Wednesday Walkie Talkies did their thing I felt like the grandest tiger in the jungle. That’s because my mistress, Mary, got me a new harness.

She lost the old one over the weekend while we were at Mary and Lewis’ country place near Tarpley, Texas. I love to go there and bark at the longhorn cattle and chase jackrabbits. But I’m wary of foxes, feral hogs, coyotes and large owls.

So when Mary and Lewis walked down to see Hondo Creek--which is completely dry due to the prolonged drought--given that is was dusk, I was afraid. As is so often the case, the thing I worried about—scary night predators—did not materialize. Instead, I they lost my harness somewhere along the way.

After we got home, Mary took me to the neighborhood pet store to get a replacement. Thank goodness she spied a snazzier version, which is much more comfortable. Since red is my best color, she bought one to match my fancy red collar with silver conchos. I know they say “What price beauty,” but in this case comfort and beauty converged.

Today I sported my new halter as the WWTs walked from Olmos Park to Monte Vista, a historic neighborhood dating back to the late 19th century. We paused to take a photo of two of the WWTs in front of the house where Mary and Lewis’ older son, William, and his wife, Mariana, used to live. I remember when their daughter, Christina, was little, she used to hector me no end at that house (which is now for sale). Now it’s Christina’s younger brother, Maxwell, who’s bothering me at their new, larger home in Monte Vista.

There are a number of interesting people who live in Monte Vista, ranging from a former mayor of San Antonio to the star of “Criminal Minds." (I sit next to Mary every week when she watches that show on TV). We passed both their houses before turning back to our point of origin in Olmos Park. In all, it was a good outing. And the best news of all: it started raining right afterwards.

Checking out the Chickens

Today only three of the WWTs walked. One of them offered to take J.D., since his mistress couldn’t come. Now J.D. had a personal trainer when he was a puppy, so he knows what humans like. He stays on the left side of the street and never stops to sniff things. Although he's my friend, I was jealous when Carol—who walked him—asked, “Doesn’t he have good manners?” right in front of me. (I thought the implied comparison was REALLY rude, but let it pass.)

All three ladies had mid-morning plans so we stayed in Olmos Park. Other than noticing that even the native trees are looking stressed from the brutal heat and drought, there's nothing else worth mentioning.

Thank goodness it’s gotten a little cooler and hopefully, we’re past what is on record as the hottest, driest summer ever in San Antonio. (My mistress was really worried about my not jumping up to take walks lately. When she reported it to the vet he cited the heat, pointing out, “Trixie’s Momma didn’t raise a dumb dog.”) So true.

While this week’s walk wasn’t exciting, a trip over the weekend was. That’s when I went to Austin to see my master and mistress’ younger son, Maverick. I’d heard his parents talking about the chicken coop Maverick was having built. It’s on wheels with a detachable “run” for the birds to exercise. As the coop is moved about the yard, the chickens fertilize it.

Mary, my mistress, immediately identified the aroma produced by the chickens as “barnyard.” Since I’d never been around that particular scent, I was fascinated and sniffed all around, above and below the coop. It seemed to spook the chickens (there are three) but after a while they ventured out of the coop.

They are half Americauna, a South American breed, and half Rhode Island Red. August is the month chickens molt, so their tails are pretty sketchy, but they are a nice reddish brown color (kind of like me). According to an FFA booklet Maverick has read, they will lay green eggs. They haven't produced yet. (Chickens don't lay when molting). But I'll keep you posted when they do.

Remembering Bumper

This week Mary couldn't walk with the ladies when they explored the Trinity University campus. Naturally I'm disappointed as I've heard they have scads of squirrels there. Instead, she and my master, Lewis, went to the inauguration of a new exhibit at Mission San Juan Capistrano.

While there, Mary heard of another Olmos Park oddity. It's a house owned by Cynthia, a board member of Los Compadres, a support group for San Antonio's missions. Cynthia lives in a storybook house, based on Hansel and Gretel, and she's invited the WWTs to stop by for tea. (I wonder if she has cats. Not MY cup of tea).

I'm going to dedicate the rest of my column to a canine I never had the pleasure of sniffing. Last week, I mentioned an outgoing pug that greeted passersby as he sat in front of an Olmos Park home, sitting between two dressed-up stone statues of dogs.

He wasn't there the day we passed and sadly, my friend J.D. (for "Just Dog") explained why. He emailed (with the technical help of his mistress, who has a PhD in computer science), "the pug, named Bumper, went to doggie heaven a week or so ago. All the neighborhood pups miss seeing him in the front yard." Upon hearing the news, Ann--another WWT--wrote in to say, "so sorry about Bumper...it won't be the same walking by."

With the help of J.D's mistress, Pat, I got in touch with Bumper's mistress, Susan (who serves on the Olmos Park City Council with Pat). It's so sad when your dog dies," Susan told Mary. "Bumper was a member of our family." A second-generation pug owner, she recalled her pet as "a social animal" who loved to greet passersby from the front yard.

It became "kind of a ritual" for Bumper to run to the door in the morning, waiting to be tethered in front, she recalled. "More people seemed to know him"-- even the garbage collectors, who greeted him by name. When she ran for city council, Susan included Bumper in her campaign photo, noting "Bumper wants your vote, too." Born on New Year's Day in 1998, Bumper was eleven and a half when he died.

In doggie heaven, he's no doubt sitting between the pearly gates, greeting all who enter.

Spooky Woods of Olmos Park

Today's WWT adventure didn't start well: my mistress almost forgot to take me. I started barking as soon as I heard her pulling out of the driveway and fortunately, she came back for me. What she never forgets, thank goodness, is her can of pepper spray.

That is because a few months ago a big stray dog (well to ME almost every dog is big) attacked me in front of our house. As Mary tried to wrestle it off, it bit her and then went back to me. Fortunately my master, Lewis, heard me shrieking, rushed out and kicked the dog off. The vet said I was lucky the dog hadn't punctured my lungs, but for about a week I just lay in the back of the closet with my head to the wall. It freaked my owners out but I just couldn't deal with anyone or anything until I got my head together. Since then Mary seems more wary of unleashed dogs than I am. I've moved on and am always ready for an outing.

Am I talking too much about me? My former owner, who rescued me from the streets in Austin, just emailed my mistress that any Trixie-centric blog I wrote "would have to rely heavily on two words: 'I' and 'Me.'" He went on to say he thinks of me as "the Little Queen of everything," just because I wanted more attention than his dogs. It's a REALLY tacky thing for him to say but since he's Mary's son's boss I won't say so to his face. He SO needs to get over those Jack Russells. They are the ones with a royalty complex.

But back to this morning: once my mistress came back for me, we headed over for a walk through a wooded area on the periphery of her friends' neighborhood. Not much of anyone from that fancy little suburb goes in there, including the WWTs. But one member, Carol, led the way in. She and Mary had explored it awhile back--before I was invited into the group--and discovered a mysterious old rock ruin. If you use your imagination you can picture Indiana Jones in this jungle, since there are so many greenbrier and Virginia creeper vines all over the place.

We made our way through the spooky woods for more than a half hour, the high point for me being the sight--really the scent--of a skeletal paw with claws. The ladies discussed whether it was of a possum, raccoon or ring tailed cat but couldn't decide. Neither could I.

Finally we emerged onto the streets and walked around Olmos Park, a small incorporated city inside of San Antonio where most of the Wednesday Walkie Talkies live. Soon we encountered something as interesting to me as the paw. (There I go again with "Me.") Someone had dressed up two stone statues of pug dogs as if they were going to school. And I don't mean obedience school. They had backpacks and lunch boxes and canteens. Carol said the homeowner has an old pug that sometimes comes out and sits in front of the house in between the statues.

Well kids, that's all for today. After a baby-sitting stint with Mary's grandkids at their house--a command performance for me--I plan to sit around home like a princess. Oops, should I have said queen?