pet connection

When Bella was an only dog, we took her to the beach fairly often, where she would chase the seagulls right into the waves. When Darcy came along, we still went occasionally, but managing two bird-crazy Cavaliers was a lot more work. With Twyla’s arrival, we still went for walks in beach neighborhoods, but in the seven years since we’ve had her, those black and tan paws have never touched sand (which you would understand completely if you had ever tried to groom her very long, thick coat). Harper has been once or twice, by herself. That all changed on Saturday. We loaded everyone up and headed to Dog Beach in Huntington Beach to watch Cleo the Miniature Poodle mix learn to surf.

Cleo found her way to Arden Moore’s house a few years ago, after deciding that her home at the time was not to her liking. Arden tracked down her people, but they didn’t want Cleo back. Arden wasn’t sure what to do with her, not having ever had a small dog before, but by that time it was too late; Cleo had wrapped herself inside Arden’s heart and clearly was not going anywhere. To this day, Arden still exclaims over Cleo’s gutsiness, despite her size, so when she had a chance to judge a dog surfing contest and get a surfing lesson for one of her dogs, there was no doubt in her mind as to which one would go out.

We’ve only seen dogs body surfing, so we went along for the spectacle of the thing. Jerry brought his camera to document the lesson, and we thought all the girls would enjoy the chance to do a little off-leash frolicking on the sand. Twyla seemed taken aback by the feel of the sand beneath her paws, but she soon got over that. She was not thrilled, however, the first time a wave washed up and got her wet.  After that she carefully avoided any part of the beach that had any chance of getting her wet. Sand didn’t seem to bother her, though. She had it encrusted all over her face, giving it the look of being frosted by snow. After doing a little exploring, she chillaxed and gnawed on a piece of seaweed.

We found a spot to sit and watch the show, which was great except for being frequently body-slammed by all the bigger dogs playing nearby. I didn’t mind so much for myself, but I spent a lot of time trying to protect poor Bella from getting run over, and Jerry had to protect his camera and lenses from too many noses and tongues.  Happily, all the dogs were friendly. Dog Beach is patrolled regularly by volunteers, and they take good behavior (and beach cleanliness) seriously.

We had to wait a while for the instructor, Brandon Scolman, to arrive, but it was well worth it.  He worked well with Cleo and she seemed to trust him from the start.  Arden had put a flotation vest on her, and it was very easy to just pick Cleo up and place her on the board.  From there the instructor carried the board (with Cleo on it) out into the surf, and swam her out over several breakers.  They did this three times with Cleo magnificently riding the board back to shore, with Arden’s other dog, Chipper, running out to meet her and make sure she was all right. Cleo wiped out at least once, but Brandon lifted her up and put her right back on the board. She always wears a stoic expression, so it’s hard to say if she was having a good time, but she was definitely a trooper.

Arden wanted to keep the lesson short since it was a bit chilly, so after half an hour, we wrapped Cleo up in a blanket I had brought and took her back to the pet-friendly Shorebreak Hotel, where they were staying. She and Chipper got baths in the very deep tub, and we took our girls on home. By the time we arrived, they showed no sign of having been on the beach. I used to make fun of breed descriptions that said the dog’s coat shed dirt and mud, but, well, it’s true.

We skipped the actual surf competition on Sunday, not wanting to fight the crowds, but Arden says it was a blast. The LA Times has a slide show of some of the competitors. We hear that Boston Terriers and Bulldogs were some of the best surfers out there. That whole low-to-the-ground thing helps a lot (I speak from my 40th-birthday-schooly experience). About 1,500 spectators came to see the canine shredders.

Cowabunga, dog!

The wild life in Laguna

On Sunday, we took Harper to Laguna for our regularly scheduled walk. It was dark by the time we headed back, along PCH instead of our usual route through the park, so we could do some window shopping at the galleries. A guy approaching from the other direction took a look at Harper and warned us about a ring of raccoons up ahead. I’m not sure if he thought they would go after Harper or vice versa. She thinks she’s tough, so we were happy to have the heads up. Sure enough, about five of the little rascals were running back and forth beneath a gate into someone’s yard, no doubt raiding the trash. I don’t believe in picking little dogs up when they’re approached by bigger dogs, but I wasn’t taking any chances with raccoons.

She got carried until we were past them.