The Life of Bobby Lee: October 2019

There is beauty all around when you have a puppy!

Puppy lived with us for 5,265 days – Mother’s Day, May 15, 2005 to today, October 14, 2019. This is just a glimpse back at one of those days:

Spock, Killer, Puppy in His Younger Days

Puppy and I went for a walk just before sunset today, January 30, 2010. It has been a week since the
big rain. We had a tiny bit this week, but not much really. The ground is already dry in most places, but you can see where the water had been standing. Home plate at the park still had some puddles of water but they'll probably be playing games there in a week or two. A couple of trees were blown over by the wind. Workers have cleared the fallen trees from the sidewalk but haven't removed the debris yet. It's amazing how much the ground dries up in just a week. Ours and several other houses lost some shingles in the wind. Ours is not as bad as some, but still about 20 or so need to be replaced, but I've been compensated for the extra work of repairing the roof.

The pile of mulberry leaves that had accumulated at the foot of the tree has gone with the wind. The air was a little chilly, but still nice - mid 60's I'd guess. I had to wear a long-sleeved shirt. The park was buzzing with people. There were at least three groups celebrating birthdays or some other special event. In the basin there was a large group throwing footballs and such. They had tables set up I think with food but I'm not sure. I wondered who they were.

Around the back there was a birthday party for sure. The party-goers had those big pans like you see in a cafeteria to keep food warm. I don't know what they were eating, but it smelled good. The kids were playing in one of those inflatable playrooms. I wished I was a kid again. We didn't have things like that in the 50's. We had to use our imagination more. The playground was full of parents and children on swings and other equipment. As we passed the playground a woman was taking her small daughter to the bathroom. The girl asked, "Does your dog bite?" I thought about Peter Sellers in the Pink Panther when I said "No"...as she began to pet him. Luckily, he just sniffed her feet.

I saw at least 30 airplanes overhead as we walked. I sighed every time. Some were making contrails, others were lower. They were heading in every direction.

Randall, our neighbor, was walking south by the pool wearing his safari hat while we were heading east. I saw him, he saw us. But puppy was too busy sniffing the ground and peeing on bushes to notice. Good thing because he would have barked up a storm. Twice tonight he was on the arm of the couch facing the door barking constantly. There was nothing outside, I opened the door so he could see. Then I realized that a book of Arizona Parks was sitting on the end table. Randall brought it by this morning for me to look at. I don't know why Puppy has it in for Randall, but he does. Every time we pass his house, Puppy runs to the end of the leash barking like crazy and then chokes himself and has to cough to clear his throat. He settles down after we pass by.

In the park there was a father and four boys playing football. The father was the QB. Two boys went out for a pass and two others were defending. The father threw a long pass which was caught by one of boys and then raised both hands pointing to the sky signaling a touchdown and victory! He looked just like Brett Favre (I bet this dad knows how to pronounce his own name, but that’s another story). Another group of adults and children were playing a bean bag toss game near the ramada. They cheered when someone apparently made a really good shot.

When we got back to the house, our shadows were on the neighbor's house. This only happens for a week or so about a month on either side of Dec 21 when the sun is in the right position in the southern sky near sunset. Puppy saw the shadows, ran toward the house and barked at them. By the time I got my camera, the sun had dropped partly below the houses to the west and I couldn't see puppy's shadow any more so I had to pick him up.

Puppy and I went for a walk today, October 16, 2019. This was unlike the hundreds of other walks we took around Arrowhead Park in the past. Puppy went home two days ago.

Puppy's Doggy Tags

Today, I felt drawn to the idea to carry his dog tags around the long route we once walked at a brisk pace, but which we had to abandon several years ago because of his advancing age, declining energy, and quivering legs. Gradually we had cut back - first eliminating the circuit around the baseball fields, then the loop around the retention basin until all that he could bear was to walk around the pool and playground, and just barely so. Still, four days ago, our last Saturday morning walk, took longer than those early walks around the entire park.

Watch Out For That Drain!

Missing today were the plastic grocery bags I would carry to pick up puppy surprises he usually left in the dirt under a large cottonwood tree just past the northwest corner of the fenced-off Arrowhead Pool. Gone was my concern as we passed the gutter with openings that drain runoff water into the retention basin. Those drains were quite large enough to swallow even an overweight Long-haired Chihuahua. Also missing was the tinkling of his tags as they would do when he jumped the curb, or when he trotted along, constantly pulling at the leash, but more recently, just waddled along our trail…and, of course, missing was the incessant barking as we passed Randall’s house, which we did twice on every walk. I don’t think Randall knows yet it is safe to visit us again.

It has been twenty-three days since the big rain – the full measure of the summer monsoon on West Tyson Street that was confined to thirty minutes on September 23 between 5:00 and 5:30 a.m. I heard this was the fifth worst monsoon on record. Prior to 2008, the beginning of the Arizona Monsoon was determined to be when the average dew point temperature was 55 degrees or higher for three consecutive days. But then some important people determined that it would begin on June 15 and end on September 30. Too bad they cannot predict the weather as well as they seem to think they can control it simply with an edict. Actually...that isn't fair. They have become much better at forecasting than the stereotype given them in times past.

Arrowhead Meadows Water Retention Basin
And the Lower Trail

The pathways around the park were dry today. The trees and grass looked healthy, but somehow the color was not as vivid as I remember from past walks. The park looked tidier than a month or two ago. Branches from several decaying cottonwood trees had fallen to the ground in the summer winds, but recently, workers have been busy cleaning up and it looked good.

The pile of mulberry leaves in our front yard is just a memory. We lost that tree five years ago. Grandpa doesn’t have leaves anymore. Little Tommi, our newest granddaughter, born just a couple months ago, will never know the fun the older kids knew playing in Grandpa's leaves – and sadly, she will never know Grandpa's Puppy.

Arrowhead Pool Digital Timer

Today is Wednesday. Fall break is over and schools are back in session. Nobody was playing football in the basin, no umpire yelled "Batter Up!" on any of the four diamonds, the pickleball and tennis courts were silent, and there was no splashing, nobody taking laps in the pool, no divers. The pool was full of water but empty of swimmers, although the digital lap timer on the wall was ticking away as it has been 24/7 for as long as I can remember. One day maybe someone will repair the display so that the numbers will be readable again. Seems like missing lines that define the numbers is a common problem on scoreboards and clocks such as the one at the pool. Makes me wonder: “Does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care?"

A Party at the Ramada

Homeless Man Napping on the Grass

The park wasn’t completely silent. A homeless man was asleep on the grass in the shade of a large mulberry tree, with his bicycle and a bundle close beside him. If he was snoring, though, I was too far away to hear him. In the early years, Puppy would have heard him. A small group of party-goers was celebrating under one of the ramadas. From a distance I could see that food was involved and there were decorations on the tables, but no balloons. I was curious what food had been prepared – not sure if it was a late breakfast or early lunch. Must have been a brunch. Since my smeller is no longer functioning, I could not get a whiff of what they were having. It isn’t a total loss. I can still taste sweet and salty.

A city parks worker was washing down the tennis courts with a hose and a middle-aged man and woman appeared to have discovered the courts for the first time. They walked inside the gate to check it out but they were not dressed to play. I couldn't hear their conversation, but I had the impression they thought of coming back when they were dressed differently. Thinking they looked middle-aged brought to my mind the episode of “Happy Days” when Howard Cunningham turned fifty and was finally "middle-aged", according to The Fonz…but that’s another story.

Another man in his fifties, I’d guess, passed by me from behind at a brisk pace. He was wearing shorts and ear buds and appeared to be serious about fitness. A young woman wearing wrap-around dark glasses, a black hoodie, and headphones walked within two feet of me from the opposite direction. With her head slightly bowed and her cell phone in the familiar vertical position peculiar to this day and age, she did not respond when I said “good morning” … and she never looked up. Lucky for her Killer wasn’t there to bark her leg off.

The Playground

At the playground, three young mothers were pushing some little ones in the swings and a few other children were playing under the canopy. A man was watching another child on the slide. Usually one of those little ones at the swings would scamper across the wood chips covering the play area and want to pet Puppy. Or else, they would appear interested but reticent, holding on to mommy's leg - but today I doubt they even noticed when we passed by. Only the usual sounds were floating in the gentle breeze – the delightful melodies of children at play. Missing were their curious questions or exclamations:

“Does your dog bite?”
“Oh, mommy, look at the cute puppy!”

The Walk Between the Pool and Tennis and Pickleball Courts

“Can I pet your dog?”
“I like your dog.”
“What’s his name?”

To the last one, I always answered: “His name is Spock, like the pointy-eared guy on Star Trek, but I call him Puppy, or Killer when I want to scare someone.” That was usually followed by: “Oh, how cute”, but only if I left off the Killer part. The name thing is another story, and I have already written part of it.

Artist's Canvas

All around the park, there were signs of life but little other activity. The old cottonwood tree by the playground still displays the image of a dancer, quite skillfully drawn by an unknown artist who, in my humble opinion, definitely has a gift. It hasn’t been there long – maybe since the beginning of summer, but not much longer. A couple other irreverent artists have recently tagged the sidewalk nearby, and possibly a budding Degas or Da Vinci have recently used the sidewalk near the east baseball field as a canvas for their chalk drawings. But then again, it just might have been a couple of youngsters who came to watch a T-Ball game last weekend.

Remnants of the concrete mile-markers from Andrew Van Allen’s Eagle Project of 1993 are still standing along the course around the scarcely-used water retention basin. I’m relying on a fading memory for that date. The markers have weathered significantly in twenty-six years and probably won’t survive to the age of Stonehenge, or even Manhattanhenge, but they will remain awhile longer as a monument to a young man’s diligent efforts to earn scouting’s highest award. The city has since upgraded the Lower Path and installed new ramadas and light poles around the basin.

Andrew Van Allen's Eagle Project
Mileage Marker

Strategically posted signs clearly outline the rules for using the park. By the entrance to the third base side of the east field, the signs clearly warned: “NO dogs allowed on ball fields” and “No metal cleats on mound”. I was wearing my Sketchers, and there was nothing posted anywhere prohibiting dog tags on the field. I think there should have been a sign saying: “Put your blasted sunflower seed shells in the trash, SLOB!” But there wasn’t one of those signs either.

No Dogs Allowed

Close to the pool on Erie Street, the trimmed Mexican Petunia bush has grown a bit since Puppy spent nearly two minutes sniffing around it Saturday morning. I think it was his way of catching a breather. Alone, I crossed the completely unshaded parking lot where I often would pick him up and carry him if he was too tired or if it was too hot.

Doggy Tags Permitted

Looking both ways out of a long-established habit I crossed the street and headed home. Saturday, a considerate motorist had slowed even more than the Speed Humps signs suggest allowing us safe crossing. Today the street was vacant. Across the street, I noticed again some trash in the oleander bushes by the corner house. Park visitors seem to dump there a lot. I have often thought to get one of those long grabby thingy’s and some plastic gloves and use Puppy’s unused plastic grocery bag (I always carried two), to pick up the trash, but never seem to think about it except when I pass by.

On the home stretch, I saw four pigeons perched atop the street light. As I drew closer I made my normal loud whishing sound and waved my arms to scare them off. Still, the sidewalk is always a mess for me to clean. I would prefer scooping doggy doo in the back yard. But that’s gone too.

At the threshold to the front door, Saturday he paused as he always did for the last few years, getting ready to make the jump into the living room. As he did, I always said “Good Boy!”, and gave him a treat after removing his leash. I sure do miss that!

The Puppy Song