Love U
"I may not always love you
But long as there are stars above you
You never need to doubt it
I'll make you so sure about it
God only knows what I'd be without you…"
The Beach Boys -- 1966
Earlier I discussed the concept of love. Like gravity, it is something we can't see, but we must recognize exists, and has a massive influence on our lives. We can be in love, out of love, or overcome by it. It can rule us, or ruin us. It can inspire us, or consume us. And though it is all about emotion, we see it demonstrated by animals.
It takes all kinds of forms: Some would say sex is an act of love, but not always. Sex can be violent, abusive and unwanted. So it doesn't belong exclusively to love. Sometimes we confuse admiration or adulation for love.
We all need love, so often we look for it in all the wrong places. I love beautiful days, but they are fleeting. I love a good ball game, but when the final out is made, I regain my senses. I love all kinds of good food, but in the end, it all turns to shit.
For me, I tend to find real love in relationships. In this chapter I want to review those relationships that definitely produced love in my life. God only knows what I would be without these people in my life.
Dottie
Does every man give their mom the most credit for who they have become? Probably so. Boys cling to their mommies for years, even when they get married. They will never admit their dependency, but it's there. I not only loved being around my mom, but I respected her. She was a genuinely good human being that cared about others. She had an intangible intuitive ability to anticipate my challenges, and offer just the right amount of advice and consent.
Dottie was a favorite of many. She literally lit up the room, but like so many social butterflies, her good humor, sincere interest in others, was most likely a cover for deep insecurity.
She could tell jokes with the best of them: Her younger brother and she would run off hundreds of jokes: "OK, that one reminds me…" On Thanksgiving Day she would always answer the phone, "Gobble Gobble Gobble!"
I couldn't get away with anything. She used to look me in the eye and say, "You know I know when you are lying!" And she did! But, she always forgave me for my transgressions, just as long as I came clean.
When I encountered rejection or headache, she would say, "Oh honey! You have such a great future! Don't let a little speedbump slow you down!"
When I would come into the house after sneaking out to smoke a cigarette, she would suggest, "I can't sit here and lecture you about smoking. That would be hypocritical. But I would rather you don't sneak around behind my back. Just let it be said, I don't approve but don't lie to me."
I know now what I didn't know then: Dottie had serious insecurities about her marriage. She felt disrespected by my dad because he flew all over the world "on business" and was well recognized, but she seldom, if ever, shared his spotlight. She was angered by Hugh's unwillingness to let her make any major family decisions.
Their circle of friends included many pilots, some other engineers and friends developed around sports, like snow and water skiing. Pilots had a reputation for being unfaithful, and it is possible my mom suspected dad of that. But I didn't. He was too conservative, too busy and self deprecating. But her fears may have contributed to her insecurity.
Was she unique in that era? No. But she kept those feelings suppressed for the benefit of family unity.
As for me? She maintained a dignified feminine mystique. A favorite person persona that I was always happy to see and spend time with and someone I could count on to be my partner in life. Her sense of humor was contagious. Whenever we socialized, the room would inevitably burst into laughter. Though much of her family had suffered years of tragedy, she accepted it as part of life, and preferred to be optimistic.
She was just beginning to enjoy retirement and grandkids. It should have been the best of times for her, when suddenly she started feeling weak and sleepy. One day she suddenly fell asleep at the wheel and crashed into a turn signal in the center divider. She was diagnosed with sleep apnea and an enlarged heart. The drugs made her lethargic and grumpy. When she started to suffer a series of upper respiratory infections, she was diagnosed with an inoperable lung tumor.
My mom died of lung cancer at 67 years of age. It was a heartbreaking end to a wonderful life and it hit our family really hard. Over the next decade every one of her four surviving siblings died from cancer.
The Rub? The scourge of her generation was their love affair with cigarettes. By the time science informed them of the dangers of tobacco inhalation, they were too addicted to stop, and part of that was the machismo of the image of the cigarette dangling from their lips. An image that was reinforced by Hollywood in films and TV. Though she let me smoke in her house beginning at 15 years of age, I realized in only 6 years that it was a disgusting habit that gave me zero return on my investment.
But I had to get help to quit.
Beverly
I met Beverly Free at a party when I was just a sophomore in college. I was living at my parents home for a stretch after getting busted for drug possession. She lived with her folks in Portuguese Bend on the southwest side of the Palos Verdes Peninsula. Beverly was a lithesome beauty, but also a strong-willed young woman who would not put up with anyone who doubted her willpower.
Her folks house, which tilted at least 15 degrees, was an inviting place for young lovers, especially when her workaholic parents weren't home. A certain area in Portuguese Bend had been condemned because most of the hillside was slowly sliding into the ocean. Because the mortgages were federally insured, the government bought the homeowners out but allowed them to remain in their homes if possible, or at least until conditions became too dangerous. That portion of the Palos Verdes Peninsula is one of California's most spectacular pieces of oceanfront real estate. As bad as the soil instability was, none of the homeowners wanted to leave.
I was a cigarette smoker at the time, and that drove Beverly crazy. I had to go outside for a smoke, then wash my face when I came back in. Whenever she had the opportunity she would rip a cigarette out of my lips and tear it in two. She pissed me off, but I was slayed by her femininity and grace.
We had a steamy relationship for a year and a half. Then one day she called me up and said we were done. She was moving to Hawaii and I would never see her again!
I couldn't believe she could be so cold hearted. She explained it had to be that way because she was too vulnerable and the decision to move was already made. She was being sent to attend a prestigious art college. Something she always dreamed about and she couldn't miss the opportunity.
I begged her to let me drive her to the airport. On the way I stored the last one of a box of Marlboros in my shirt pocket, to smoke later. At the terminal I waved goodbye as she boarded the plane, then broke down and cried. When I got to my car in the LA International Airport parking lot, I reached for my cigarette only to discover she had somehow torn it in two.
The Rub? I went home and layed down on my bed and cried. I was literally sick to my stomach from heartbreak. I decided at that moment that if I could live without Beverly, I could live without cigarettes. I felt like I had a bad case of the flu for the next two weeks, but I never smoked another cigarette in my life.
Jacqueline
My Mom started working at the Ski Racquet when I went off to college. She was bored and it made sense to put her fashion skills to work. She got me some part time work there too.
She began to build a new group of skier friends, and that led to trips to various resorts. One of her best new friends was Jacqueline. She was married and her husband was part of the ski shop management team.
One day I walked into my folks home and Jacque was sitting on the sofa, talking to my mom. She was California beautiful, long blond wavy hair, freckled cheeks, blue eyes and very friendly. We flirted but since she was married, I had to suppress my lust.
Eventually I got transferred out of the Ski Racquet in Torrance to a new store in Westchester, near LAX. Jacque's husband was the manager. Jacque would come in and poke her nose in the workshop where I was tuning skis. "Can I get my edges sharpened?"
Was she flirting with me?
Finally we hooked up. She promised me it was OK because her soon to be ex-husband had agreed to a divorce and he was already seeing somebody else. Did I mention she was a few years older than me? I was astounded that we had such fun together. There was always a little hesitance because she was deeply connected to the ski shop ownership group and of course her friendship with my mom made our 'thing' a little awkward.
She didn't take ending her marriage lightly. She felt guilty, but was determined to make it on her own. I felt lucky to spend any time with her at all. She had a keen sense of spiritual balance, serenity and wisdom. Part of that came from her deep affection for her mother, and appreciation for family connections. She celebrated her total independence, which I admired and respected.
We splurged on glorious sex and ski vacations for nearly two years.
The Rub? We both knew it was never going to progress beyond young love. I was in no position to make lifelong commitments, and she was in a position where it made sense to do just that. She was anxious to form a family unit, and her ex's reluctance had contributed to their breakup.
She was the only one emotionally secure enough to confront the fact that she had to move on. Our relationship wasn't the "First Cut" but it was definitely the deepest. I have maintained a loving relationship with Jacque ever since and cherish the fact that we can share our memories of such a wonderful period of our lives.
Randi
I cannot for the life of me remember where I met her. That is why she remains such an enigma in my life. Randi had that unique combination of sexual appeal and female vulnerability. She was mysterious, elusive, impulsive, and dangerously cute. I had been in love before, but I had never experienced such a magnetism, or compulsion to wallow in each other's emotional ocean.
When I arrived at her apartment to pick her up for my first date, another guy walked up on her porch at the same time. We found ourselves looking at each other wondering who would knock first? After we both knocked we heard a murmur, "Go away, I don't feel good."
I walked away trying to understand what had just happened. Later I called and she tried to apologize. "I hadn't heard from you, so I made another date."
After we worked it out, she accompanied me to a floating nightclub in King Harbor at Redondo Beach. The theme was Karaoke, and after cocktails they played 60's era oldies and invited audience members to come up on stage and either mimic or sing the songs.
Little did I know Randi was waving her hand over my head, so I got invited to go up and mimic a song called "Bop-a-Lena" by the Trashmen, who had a hit with "The Bird" ("Bird, bird, the bird is the word!") which I could have handled. But I had no idea what Bop-a-Lena meant, what was being said, or how to follow the beat. I simply melted down, and the audience loved it!
Afterward I was too embarrassed to speak while she was cracking up. It was perhaps the perfect analogy for our eventual five-year-long relationship. We had many things in common, but most of all we loved to laugh, often at each other's expense.
We were together for most of my time at Ski-Surf Shop, so we went on water and snow skiing trips, and spent much of our free time with a large group of friends. She was very athletic, but most of all, very vulnerable, insecure and did I mention, sexy? She had no family ties, and kept most of her history a secret. I was aware that her mother had married SEVEN times, her brother had a history of heroin abuse and jail time. She had no idea who her real father was.
Maybe that should have been a clue, because it all ended suddenly. She literally moved out one day and cut off all contact. I was devastated. I lost 30 pounds, struggled to stay employed, and wondered if I had caused the breakup. But I think there was something telling me not to take the next step and propose marriage. The lack of any family history was the inflection point in our relationship, and proved to be terminal. Within a few months she had married a rich guy she had met through her work, and they moved up north.
A few months later, I moved to San Diego and reinvented myself.
The Rub? We spent five of the best years of my life, to that point, and then it suddenly imploded. Sometimes I find myself wondering if that incredibly fun, romantic and carefree period was nothing more than a mirage. I justify her leaving me by thinking maybe she was doing me a favor…
I have always cherished my friendships, and for the most part I have maintained them well. I have many lifetime friends, but this one ended in a way I will never understand. I haven't seen or spoken to her in over 40 years.
The Kid
I was fitting ski boots on a male customer at my snow ski shop in Rancho Bernardo when suddenly he asked me if I was married. I said "Why do you ask?" He said he just assumed my assistant and I must have owned the business together.
I wasn't romantically involved with her but I could see why he might think that. She was attractive and a hard worker. We did everything together, sponsoring remote fashion shows and holding parking lot sales. She was the software buyer and I was the hardware buyer. But our relationship was all business. I thought nothing of it.
A few days later an attractive brunette came into the store and wanted to try on some ski boots. I noticed she was wearing the same scrubs as my Doctor Customer. I asked her if she worked for Dr. Fortney, a local oral surgeon.
Years later, she admitted to me that he had recommended she go see the new guy in town. He knew she had recently ended a relationship and he thought she might find the ski shop owner "interesting".
I eventually called her up and we went on our first date. She was interesting to me because she was independent (owned her own condo), hard working, self-sufficient, and had a sweet disposition. And incredibly cute! We dated a few times, progressing very slowly. We both were coming off serious relationships and weren't too eager to stick our necks out too far. We were both focused on getting ahead financially and avoiding drama.
A couple of months later, after a few water ski trips to Kings River, we went on a 10 day houseboat trip with a few of my LA friends. The group rented a motorhome and drove 18 hours to Lake Powell, then spent 7 days on a houseboat together.
It turned out to be the best vacation any of us had ever had. The Kid fit like a comfortable pair of shoes. When you are confined on a little houseboat in incredibly tight quarters for that length of time, it tends to reveal a lot about your social skills and personal peccadillos. It was obvious from that trip that we had a future together.
My 30th birthday was coming up, so we decided it would be a good opportunity for our parents to meet. I arranged for my folks to come down from LA that weekend, and planned to go over to her folks house in Poway for a dinner introduction. Little did I know Cathy had secretly planned to have all those friends from the houseboat trip, plus dozens of others, stage a surprise 30th birthday party at her parents house.
The LA gang came early and had a few drinks before me and my folks showed up. Surprise! It was risky to throw a bunch of rowdy drunk friends into the first meeting of our folks! What was she thinking?
Before you know it the place was rocking and rolling! People were literally blasted! My mom got thrown into the hot tub fully clothed, not once but twice! Later, swimwear came off altogether! Here was my dad and her dad soaking in the jacuzzi with naked ladies they had never met! It turned into a really ribald scene, and most of the revelers passed out on the Rosson's living room floor.
The fact that everyone had so much fun and that Cathy's parents were willing to talk to me again meant that we were on the right path. I moved in with her and put my condo in Escondido up for rent.
I used the term "Kid" for Cathy for many years because she seemed as innocent as a kid. Later I learned that was a trick. She played innocent to disarm her competition. Now that I know her extreme competitiveness, her willingness to go to great lengths to win at golf, bowling, tennis, or cards, I now call her "Conchita" because she will con or cheat to win.
The Rub? In this case I knew within minutes this girl was special. It felt like my turn had finally come around, and I think if you asked her, she would say the same thing. We had too much in common: A great family tree, love of sports, a large group of longtime friends, and in many ways we're opposites, which is good. We compliment each other's shortcomings. She is her daddy's girl. Like her dad, she is clever, inventive, and extremely level headed. She is Miss MacGyver. I am the dreamer, the imagineer. I am the Skipper from Gilligan's Island.
We have since shared more than half of our lifetimes together, and raised two very healthy and productive kids. We must be doing something right.
Kelly
Our first born didn't come easily. Kelly was 17 hours in labor. I was sitting in the hospital waiting area watching the Sunday Charger game. We had rushed to the hospital at 1 AM, and thought at first it would be a quick and easy delivery. By 3 o'clock the next afternoon Cathy was in dreadful shape. I kept peeking into her room, "Is it soup yet?"
The Chargers were playing the hated rival Oakland Raiders, and there were only seconds left on the clock. They had driven down to within field goal range…now I was hoping the baby would wait just a few more minutes! Eventually the doctor decided it was time for a C-section.
They say little girls wrap their daddies around their little finger. So true. Though we struggled with work schedules and meager income at times, Kelly has always had a great attitude, an infectious giggle and a zest for life. When Jeff came along she immediately became Mommy to him. And to this day, she still is.
Cathy has an innate ability to mother. She takes to kids like they take to ice cream. So between her and Kelly, I have been blessed with two women intimately involved in holding our family together. I turn to Kelly for advice, and sometimes she offers it when I don't want to hear it. But upon reflection I am always amazed at how insightful and wise she is. I think more than a little of Cathy has rubbed off on Kelly. There is too much to say about Kelly here. I could write a whole book about her, and maybe I will…
Honorable Mentions?
I didn't have a lot of romantic relationships. More often than not, I stopped calling if I didn't sense a future. I can honestly say, I had very few female 'friends with benefits'. I have always had a problem with getting intimate with someone I don't love. That sounds old fashioned and the truth is, it is. I am afraid too many young people don't have that "problem" today.
I have always had a soft spot for dogs.
Here is my history of dog relationships. I think it is important because dogs have played important roles in my life. I am proud to say that for the majority of my time on this Earth, I have had a loyal and trustworthy dog at my side.
Lassie
As a little boy, our family dog was named Lassie, after the TV show of the same name. She was a Shetland Sheepdog, with the cutest long muzzle that often found its way to my crotch. I was too young to remember when we got her or how, but I have many fond memories of her around the house and yard and how she was extremely friendly. I also remember how she shed tons of hair, and needed constant grooming by my mom.
I will never forget a trip to Mammoth in its early days, when Dave McCoy was just developing the ski area beyond the Village. He had established a rope tow near Lake Crowley and my dad had a relationship with the owner of several small cabins. They were really cheap to rent, so after McCoy moved up to the Big Mountain, we stayed there and drove up to Mammoth Village to ski.
One day, just after arriving at the cabins, Lassie suddenly took off and ran out into the fields. My brother took off screaming "Lassie! Lassie! Come Lassie! Come!" But she ignored him, and then as we all went after her, we realized she was herding some cattle! They were grazing in the field and she was just responding to her instincts. She was a Sheepdog, and this was the nearest thing to a herd of sheep she had ever seen.
By the time we ran her down, she was black with mud! And exhausted from running around and around the cattle, who paid absolutely no attention to her. She was a gamer! But we never took her on another ski trip…
When we moved from Altadena to Palos Verdes in 1960, we didn't take Lassie with us. I don't remember what happened to her: Did mom and dad put her down? I can't remember, but as a 10 year old, it may have been too traumatic for me to process.
Owsley
I picked up a puppy in front of the grocery store when I was 17. I thought it was time to get another family dog, and he was sooo cute. And free!
He was a little black mutt, probably mostly lab. Mom thought I was reckless and thoughtless to assume the rest of the family would accept a new pet. My brother had left for college and I was still in high school but would be leaving for college in a year. She was right, I showed little interest in the responsibilities of feeding, washing, grooming, and cleaning up. Let alone training and walking little Owsley, who I named after the most popular LSD maker at the time.
Within six months I agreed to rehome my little friend, and since he was still young and healthy, I reconciled my angst, knowing he was going to a loving environment.
The Rub? I came to realize I was very young, impulsive and stupid. I had mistaken love for infatuation. I didn't even think about getting another dog for another 14 years.
Whiskey River
I met Cathy in 1980. We quickly got tired of sharing time at each other's place. I had a condo in Escondido, and she had one in Poway. She had roommates, so she came over to my place often, but that was really inconvenient since she worked in Poway.
I was winding down the Ski Outpost, and repping water skis, so I was on the road a lot. It made sense for us to share her place and rent mine out, so I moved in with her in '82. That Christmas I had a lot of ski equipment to liquidate, and so it made sense to outfit both of us for the future. For Christmas I decided to surprise Cathy with all new ski equipment. But I also had a surprise in mind. One of my shop employees had a litter of Golden Retriever/Labrador mix puppies.
Ever since that Christmas, Cathy has complained that we never had another one like that one: New skis, boots, jackets and gloves, plus a cute little puppy under our tree.
The little doggie was full of energy, running all around, ripping up wrappers, chewing on furniture and whining all night while penned up on the paper-covered kitchen floor. He was so wild, we named him after the Willie Nelson song Whiskey River.
Cathy's condo had a small backyard, about 20' X 30' with a small cement patio with a redwood table and two benches. Whiskey chewed up all of the plants and the bark off of the only tree we had. But we were crazy about him and took long walks and took him on day trips often. On one trip to Big Bear we visited friends, and while walking their four-year-old boy and Whiskey, our rambunctious dog ran past the kid and knocked him to the ground. He sustained a huge bump on his forehead and the understandably frightened parents rushed him to the local emergency room. But first they insisted we leave because we were "dangerous".
Fortunately the bump turned out to be a lot more visually threatening than actually dangerous, and within a few hours it was just a bruise. The incident scared us, but fortunately the kid was OK.
Whiskey was left in the yard when we were at work, so he would get bored and find things to dig up or chew on. One day, when he was just 2 years old, I came home to find him unconscious. He had a trail of stinky bile drooling from his mouth and his tongue was hanging out. I scooped him up and rushed to the nearby Pet Emergency Hospital. They immediately took him into the ER and sent me home.
That night at 11:30, they called with bad news: Whiskey passed away from blood poisoning. They wanted to do an autopsy, with our permission, to find out what happened. We cried all night in agony. The vet called later the next day to give us a report. Apparently Whiskey had chewed on one of the legs of our redwood table, and swallowed a splinter that punctured his intestine. The internal leakage allowed for poisonous bacteria to get into his bloodstream. He assured us that the dog had had internal bleeding for several days that would have been undetectable. With no visible symptoms, there was nothing we could have done to have saved him.
Neither one of us could function properly for a week. We worried that if this was how we raised dogs, maybe we would never have children…
Flash
A few months after the passing of Whiskey, there was a knock at the front door. Our neighbor's 7 year-old boy stood on the step with a black puppy cradled in his arms.
"When did you get a new puppy?"
"It's not mine. I found him."
"Where did you find him?"
"In the fields across the street. He was in our fort this morning. Don't know where he came from. But my dad says we can't keep him. Since Whiskey is gone, I thought maybe I could keep Flash in your backyard."
"How do you know his name?"
"Me and my friends named him."
"Son, that puppy didn't just come out of nowhere. He belongs to someone nearby. You need to return him to his rightful owner. Just think how sad they are because their new puppy is lost. Imagine if that was your puppy and one morning you woke up and he was gone!"
The little boy looked forlorn.
"I have an idea. I will keep him for one week. We will put up signs and knock on doors to see if we can find his owner. If we can't, then we will have to take him to the Humane Society. We are not ready to have another dog just yet. Are you OK with that?"
"Yes sir…"
We spent a good deal of time posting "Found Puppy" signs and walking through the neighborhood looking for Flash's real owner. In the meantime Cathy and I were falling in love with the little dog. He was just adorable and fun loving.
Flash became a part of our growing family. When we bought our house in Escondido he blossomed, having a ½ acre to romp around and many kids in the neighborhood to keep him busy. Labs are perfect pets for families with young children. They are gentle, playful and protective. Soon we had Kelly, and the two of them became best friends. Flash lived for 14 years.
Eventually I had to have him put out of his misery when his hips completely failed. That was tough, especially since on the Monday I took him to the Humane Society to have him euthanized, it turned out they were closed for Presidents Day, a federal holiday! I had to go home and go back the next day…
Sunny
We were certain we were going to be living in our house in Escondido for a long time. We loved the location, the space, the community, and the view. We waited for a year to let the grief of losing Flash to pass. As Christmas approached I decided it was time for another dog. On Christmas eve I drove to Ramona to look at a litter of yellow labs. When one of the females immediately came running towards me, I knew I had found our new pet. It was snowing, and she was being reared in the doghouse, so I felt reassured she could be comfortable living outside.
As I drove down the hill from Ramona, I passed the "Welcome To Ramona" sign. I called Cathy on my new car phone and told her I was bringing home a Christmas Baby. As the puppy laid on the passenger side seat and moaned, I said, "We should name her Mona. You know, since we got her in Ra..Mona?""
That idea didn't go over well, so it took us weeks to settle on Sundance. Then it became Sundance Kid, since I often called Cathy "Kid" as a term of endearment. In the end, we nicknamed her Sunny.
Sunny was an outdoor dog. We would only invite her inside if the weather was horrific, but she never seemed overly eager to be inside. Our yard was her domain, where she ruled over rabbits, gophers and lizards. She was a bird dog, and occasionally pounced on a distracted bird, shredding it. Then she would deliver it to our doorstep. Sunny lived to the ripe old age of 13 before succumbing to hip dysplasia.
Butch
After Jeff joined our family, Sunny had a complete family. Or maybe not…Cathy and I were gone a lot, and we began to worry that Sunny was bored. We thought maybe adding a second dog would solve that problem. When Sunny was three we adopted an Australian Sheepdog puppy from the Humane Society.
He was a little black ball of fur, and absolutely adorable. So much so that we tended to smother Butch (Butch Casady and the Sundance Kid. Get it?) with all of the attention. I would throw a tennis ball for Sunny to retrieve, and Butch would tackle her before she could get to the ball. He was a natural herding dog, but Sunny saw it as aggression. I could see her hair stand up on her back. She never liked him. As he quickly grew up to be thirty five pounds, she got increasingly annoyed with him. Before long I was getting calls at work to come home because my "dogs" were out running around the neighborhood.
They kept this up weekly, digging holes under the fence. Sunny had never wandered away. In fact we often left the gate open and she would still hang around the house, never indicating that she had a wandering eye. So it was clear to me that Butch was the trouble maker, and Sundance was more than willing to help him "disappear".
I reinforced the fencing, extending it deep into the ground. But to no avail: They kept finding ways to escape. Eventually, one of our neighbors called to "turn in" Sunny. We never saw Butch again.
When we got home, the fur in Sunny's back had laid down…
Macks
As a part of Kelly's breakup with her old boyfriend, she inherited a dog. He was a feisty Chihuahua/Cockapoo mix breed. He was not really friendly, probably because he had been abused. He was fiercely loyal to Kelly, and he took a liking to me because I would wrestle with him.
She was still living with us, building a new relationship, and working nearby so Macks was a new part of our family. This was the first time we had ever allowed a dog to live in our house. Maybe because we are getting older, or because we empathize with Kelly and her affection for the only good thing that came from her relationship with "Mike" but Cathy and I fell hard for Macks.
Unfortunately, Macks was not healthy. He suffered from occasional seizures, anxiety attacks, and poor eyesight. The vet had no remedies because the dog was simply too old to invest a lot of money in procedures that weren't necessarily going to work.
Kelly got married and moved to Fallbrook where they purchased a fixer upper with 2 acres. But it wasn't long before Kelly realized Macks was seriously ill. It was time to end his suffering, so they hired a pet euthanasia expert to send him off with the family present. It was a serious and formal way to say goodbye, but it did give us all a sense of "completion" that the little guy was surrounded by love when he was chemically put to sleep.
Abby
Jeff was finishing up college and ready to move out on his own. Cathy and I started getting serious about finding another dog. But we wanted to be sure, to find something really special. It would be a house dog, so something under 35 pounds. Definitely a female.
I was writing and was ready to publish my first paperback book . A longtime friend of the family offered to have his wife help me edit and publish my manuscript, and in exchange I promised to help her sell her pet products at large pet trade conventions in Southern California.
I attended the International Pet Industry Convention and Show in Costa Mesa at the fairgrounds. It attracted 50,000 attendees and displayed every conceivable pet product plus dozens of dog rescue organizations and hundreds of available dogs in every breed imaginable.
In between my duties at my friends booth, I visited every dog rescue pen, and looked at hundreds of lonely prospects. I learned a lot about breeds, and educated myself about their idiosyncrasies.
But nothing struck me as "The One".
Cathy and I started going to rescue rallies, where different groups would bring car loads of available dogs to local shopping center parking lots. Still, nothing felt right.
We agreed that we would know the right dog when we saw it. Until then, we would wait.
One day I was looking at CraigsList, and I saw a blurry picture of a furry white and caramel colored female Goldendoodle. The ad said it was a lost dog, and the person had found her tied to a tree near a local park. He was afraid to take her to the pound where she might get euthanized. I answered the ad and asked for some better pictures by email. Instead, the man sent a video.
As soon as I saw the dog, whom he referred to as "Abby" I knew we had to act fast. We had already agreed to name our new dog "Abby"!
I called Cathy on her cell and since she was already in La Mesa, we arranged for her to go directly to the man's apartment house to see the dog. She was nervous. She was afraid to make a decision without me. But I said "I trust your judgment. You'll know right away, so don't hesitate if you think this is The One".
I didn't hear from her for several hours. When she called she said "I think we have our baby!"
The man had found the dog while taking his dog to the park. It was tied to a tree and abandoned. He said he couldn't believe someone would abandon such a sweet and beautiful puppy. He took her to the park and asked around if anybody recognized her. When he had no response he took her home and decided to find her a new home with CraigsList. He intended to vet every potential new owner.
When Cathy came over, they went for a long walk with the man's own dog and "Abby". He let them off the leash at the park and Cathy was shocked, but they came right back when he called them. It turned out that his dog was named Abby, so what we heard on the videotape was him playing with his own dog and calling out her name.
No matter, it was serendipitous…
After a three hour interview, he awarded the puppy to Cathy before interviewing any other prospects. He thought we would be the perfect match.
I had worried that dogs are sometimes stolen then sold on CraigsList. But this man asked for nothing! He had not gotten her shots, so we would need to do that. He didn't take her to the pound, so he had no idea if she had been chipped. But when he offered to give us the dog for free, I was sure his motives were noble. He had already invested time and effort, and because his lease forbade more than one pet per household, he couldn't keep her, though he wanted to.
Cathy felt like this pup was the 'Abby' we were looking for. We didn't really want a puppy, and this dog was estimated to be about 9 months old, but otherwise she filled our fantasy requirements perfectly. I could tell when she called to confirm she was bringing Abby home that Cathy had already fallen head over heels in love.
Abby was a handful. She was a bundle of energy, racing around the yard, tearing through the house! For months we wondered if we had bitten off more than we could chew. She immediately adopted our bed as her own. She demanded our attention 24/7. But she was so sweet and loving! And beautiful! Her big brown eyes would talk us into anything she wanted. I told Cathy we should have named her Mimi, because she was all about Me, Me!
She came along at a particularly critical time in my life. I was semi-retired in 2017, and I needed something to occupy my free time. So I started walking her everyday at different places around town. It helped her burn energy and got me outside doing something besides golfing, doing yard work or sitting behind the computer writing and doing research.
Cathy was deeply involved in fitting medical devices, so Abby and I were alone together for most of the workday. She followed me around "like a puppy" and I loved every minute of it. I had never developed such a close relationship with a pet, and it would prove to be critical when the COVID19 Pandemic hit in 2020.
It is easy to forget what a dark place the COVID19 worldwide pandemic took us to. It was as if the whole world was threatened with extinction. The government became authoritarian, shutting down businesses, churches and restricting all assembly unless it was approved by big bureaucratic boards. Older people were told to remain in their homes until further notice. No birthday parties, no Christmas or New Years gatherings. No Thanksgiving family dinners.
If you got the virus, you were probably going to suffer and die! Every news cast began their programs rattling off the latest infection and death tolls. Everyone was required to cover their faces with diaper masks. After initially telling everyone the restrictions would only be temporary, they continued to escalate and roll on. When there is a natural calamity, a fire or flood, a hurricane or tornado, or even a war, it is easier to motivate yourself to face possible death. To get motivated to fight the enemy, because it is tangible and visible. But fighting a virus is like fighting shadows. It is hard to believe it is a real threat.
While we shut down our social activities, having Abby around to distract us from all of the negativity was invaluable. She had no idea that life was threatened by a virus. She just kept keepin' on!
When I eventually tested positive, I was very sick for four weeks, and Abby was right by my side. Cathy got Covid at least twice, and maybe three times. Each time she recovered faster due to natural immunity, but thank God we had our partner around, keeping us entertained and busy.
In early 2021 the world started to unravel like an old silk purse. As we learn how the Pandemic was likely a surreptitious politically engineered weapon, how the vaccine mandates were designed to exert more government controls, and how the whole sordid affair has destroyed millions of lives, I can only say my homelife, my family, and my relationships with Cathy and Abby have literally saved my life.
We have been consumed with grief for the loss of so many friends, not from the virus, but from old age and the loss of a passion to live. It seems like instead of football games and weddings, we all get together mostly to mourn the loss of another friend or relative. The pandemic and the resulting lockdowns murdered our sense of optimism. People lost their homes, their businesses, and their savings, while fighting over the proper way to fight the disease. Meantime, the politicians on all sides continue to encourage the production of biological weapons, the manipulation of economic lifelines, and the incessant use of propaganda to gaslight the masses.
This period was as far from the American Dream as America has been since the Civil War. Then just to top off a series of bad years since early 2020, in 2023 Abby suddenly started acting weird. She lost her vitality. We noticed her limping. She was reluctant to go for walks. She seemed like she had aged suddenly.
One day as I was driving her to the nearby park we liked to use for walks, she wasn't lying down on the back seat of my truck. I kept urging her to lay down for safety. When we got to the park and I went to get her leash on, I noticed a pool of vomit on the bench seat. I decided right then to return home. She immediately went into our room and laid down in her bed. I noticed she had not eaten her food..
That was on Friday, by Monday we knew something was definitely wrong. She was not responding, not showing any energy. We were able to get a vet appointment late Monday afternoon.
Within just a few minutes, the vet said, "You have a very sick dog. Her gums are very gray and that indicates something serious. I recommend you take her to the Pet Hospital right now. They can do things there I can't do."
We gathered her up and drove around the corner to the 24/7 pet hospital. They wanted to draw blood and it would take an hour or two to get the results analyzed. They sent us home and told us to wait for a call.
The analysis suggested she was suffering from IMHA (Immune Mediated Hemolytic Anemia) which causes the dogs immune system to attack the host. The immune system destroys the red blood cells resulting in a number of dangerous complications that all threaten the life of the dog.
IMHA typically occurs in middle aged dogs, can be triggered by tick or flea bites, toxic water, or any number of otherwise benign factors. It can also be the side effect of an underlying condition such as cancer. The vet recommended an immediate blood transfusion. This is because the blood cell tests are very disturbing and her life is at risk. That was phase one, but it usually only delays the process. Ultimately, she is likely to need a SERIES of transfusions, along with steroids to stimulate the immune system to recognize the cells in the new blood, and to continue to restore her proper red cell count.
Phase One treatment was going to cost $2500. Phase Two, would likely involve multiple transfusions, costing $1500 each, an MRI and Ultrasound and other more aggressive tests of bone marrow, or even spleen removal. All of which could easily raise the costs to $20,000!
We chose Phase One, and decided it was as much as we were financially able to handle. It sounds insensitive, but there are financial limits that we all have to confront. We both WORSHIPED Abby but, unlike the government, we can't print money.
We spent the next four days hoping and praying that the protocols would work. At first we saw improvement, but in just one day she started going south. By day four she couldn't stand up. Her head was slumping, her legs were shaking and she wasn't eating at all. We had to force feed her the medicine, and encouraged her to drink water, which she gulped increasingly more frequently.
Before we took her in to be put down, we had the local vet run another blood smear. He looked us straight in the eye and said her red cell count had fallen to 6%. She had very little time left and at this point she was suffering.
Walking into the Humane Society as the last customer of the day was the hardest thing I have ever done. I was racked with guilt that I hadn't protected my little girl. Cathy and I can hardly keep from bursting into tears every time we see another Goldendoodle on TV, which is every fifteen minutes!
Rest in peace my sweet baby. God only knows where we'd be without you…
***
But long as there are stars above you
You never need to doubt it
I'll make you so sure about it
God only knows what I'd be without you…"
The Beach Boys -- 1966
Earlier I discussed the concept of love. Like gravity, it is something we can't see, but we must recognize exists, and has a massive influence on our lives. We can be in love, out of love, or overcome by it. It can rule us, or ruin us. It can inspire us, or consume us. And though it is all about emotion, we see it demonstrated by animals.
It takes all kinds of forms: Some would say sex is an act of love, but not always. Sex can be violent, abusive and unwanted. So it doesn't belong exclusively to love. Sometimes we confuse admiration or adulation for love.
We all need love, so often we look for it in all the wrong places. I love beautiful days, but they are fleeting. I love a good ball game, but when the final out is made, I regain my senses. I love all kinds of good food, but in the end, it all turns to shit.
For me, I tend to find real love in relationships. In this chapter I want to review those relationships that definitely produced love in my life. God only knows what I would be without these people in my life.
Dottie
Does every man give their mom the most credit for who they have become? Probably so. Boys cling to their mommies for years, even when they get married. They will never admit their dependency, but it's there. I not only loved being around my mom, but I respected her. She was a genuinely good human being that cared about others. She had an intangible intuitive ability to anticipate my challenges, and offer just the right amount of advice and consent.
Dottie was a favorite of many. She literally lit up the room, but like so many social butterflies, her good humor, sincere interest in others, was most likely a cover for deep insecurity.
She could tell jokes with the best of them: Her younger brother and she would run off hundreds of jokes: "OK, that one reminds me…" On Thanksgiving Day she would always answer the phone, "Gobble Gobble Gobble!"
I couldn't get away with anything. She used to look me in the eye and say, "You know I know when you are lying!" And she did! But, she always forgave me for my transgressions, just as long as I came clean.
When I encountered rejection or headache, she would say, "Oh honey! You have such a great future! Don't let a little speedbump slow you down!"
When I would come into the house after sneaking out to smoke a cigarette, she would suggest, "I can't sit here and lecture you about smoking. That would be hypocritical. But I would rather you don't sneak around behind my back. Just let it be said, I don't approve but don't lie to me."
I know now what I didn't know then: Dottie had serious insecurities about her marriage. She felt disrespected by my dad because he flew all over the world "on business" and was well recognized, but she seldom, if ever, shared his spotlight. She was angered by Hugh's unwillingness to let her make any major family decisions.
Their circle of friends included many pilots, some other engineers and friends developed around sports, like snow and water skiing. Pilots had a reputation for being unfaithful, and it is possible my mom suspected dad of that. But I didn't. He was too conservative, too busy and self deprecating. But her fears may have contributed to her insecurity.
Was she unique in that era? No. But she kept those feelings suppressed for the benefit of family unity.
As for me? She maintained a dignified feminine mystique. A favorite person persona that I was always happy to see and spend time with and someone I could count on to be my partner in life. Her sense of humor was contagious. Whenever we socialized, the room would inevitably burst into laughter. Though much of her family had suffered years of tragedy, she accepted it as part of life, and preferred to be optimistic.
She was just beginning to enjoy retirement and grandkids. It should have been the best of times for her, when suddenly she started feeling weak and sleepy. One day she suddenly fell asleep at the wheel and crashed into a turn signal in the center divider. She was diagnosed with sleep apnea and an enlarged heart. The drugs made her lethargic and grumpy. When she started to suffer a series of upper respiratory infections, she was diagnosed with an inoperable lung tumor.
My mom died of lung cancer at 67 years of age. It was a heartbreaking end to a wonderful life and it hit our family really hard. Over the next decade every one of her four surviving siblings died from cancer.
The Rub? The scourge of her generation was their love affair with cigarettes. By the time science informed them of the dangers of tobacco inhalation, they were too addicted to stop, and part of that was the machismo of the image of the cigarette dangling from their lips. An image that was reinforced by Hollywood in films and TV. Though she let me smoke in her house beginning at 15 years of age, I realized in only 6 years that it was a disgusting habit that gave me zero return on my investment.
But I had to get help to quit.
Beverly
I met Beverly Free at a party when I was just a sophomore in college. I was living at my parents home for a stretch after getting busted for drug possession. She lived with her folks in Portuguese Bend on the southwest side of the Palos Verdes Peninsula. Beverly was a lithesome beauty, but also a strong-willed young woman who would not put up with anyone who doubted her willpower.
Her folks house, which tilted at least 15 degrees, was an inviting place for young lovers, especially when her workaholic parents weren't home. A certain area in Portuguese Bend had been condemned because most of the hillside was slowly sliding into the ocean. Because the mortgages were federally insured, the government bought the homeowners out but allowed them to remain in their homes if possible, or at least until conditions became too dangerous. That portion of the Palos Verdes Peninsula is one of California's most spectacular pieces of oceanfront real estate. As bad as the soil instability was, none of the homeowners wanted to leave.
I was a cigarette smoker at the time, and that drove Beverly crazy. I had to go outside for a smoke, then wash my face when I came back in. Whenever she had the opportunity she would rip a cigarette out of my lips and tear it in two. She pissed me off, but I was slayed by her femininity and grace.
We had a steamy relationship for a year and a half. Then one day she called me up and said we were done. She was moving to Hawaii and I would never see her again!
I couldn't believe she could be so cold hearted. She explained it had to be that way because she was too vulnerable and the decision to move was already made. She was being sent to attend a prestigious art college. Something she always dreamed about and she couldn't miss the opportunity.
I begged her to let me drive her to the airport. On the way I stored the last one of a box of Marlboros in my shirt pocket, to smoke later. At the terminal I waved goodbye as she boarded the plane, then broke down and cried. When I got to my car in the LA International Airport parking lot, I reached for my cigarette only to discover she had somehow torn it in two.
The Rub? I went home and layed down on my bed and cried. I was literally sick to my stomach from heartbreak. I decided at that moment that if I could live without Beverly, I could live without cigarettes. I felt like I had a bad case of the flu for the next two weeks, but I never smoked another cigarette in my life.
Jacqueline
My Mom started working at the Ski Racquet when I went off to college. She was bored and it made sense to put her fashion skills to work. She got me some part time work there too.
She began to build a new group of skier friends, and that led to trips to various resorts. One of her best new friends was Jacqueline. She was married and her husband was part of the ski shop management team.
One day I walked into my folks home and Jacque was sitting on the sofa, talking to my mom. She was California beautiful, long blond wavy hair, freckled cheeks, blue eyes and very friendly. We flirted but since she was married, I had to suppress my lust.
Eventually I got transferred out of the Ski Racquet in Torrance to a new store in Westchester, near LAX. Jacque's husband was the manager. Jacque would come in and poke her nose in the workshop where I was tuning skis. "Can I get my edges sharpened?"
Was she flirting with me?
Finally we hooked up. She promised me it was OK because her soon to be ex-husband had agreed to a divorce and he was already seeing somebody else. Did I mention she was a few years older than me? I was astounded that we had such fun together. There was always a little hesitance because she was deeply connected to the ski shop ownership group and of course her friendship with my mom made our 'thing' a little awkward.
She didn't take ending her marriage lightly. She felt guilty, but was determined to make it on her own. I felt lucky to spend any time with her at all. She had a keen sense of spiritual balance, serenity and wisdom. Part of that came from her deep affection for her mother, and appreciation for family connections. She celebrated her total independence, which I admired and respected.
We splurged on glorious sex and ski vacations for nearly two years.
The Rub? We both knew it was never going to progress beyond young love. I was in no position to make lifelong commitments, and she was in a position where it made sense to do just that. She was anxious to form a family unit, and her ex's reluctance had contributed to their breakup.
She was the only one emotionally secure enough to confront the fact that she had to move on. Our relationship wasn't the "First Cut" but it was definitely the deepest. I have maintained a loving relationship with Jacque ever since and cherish the fact that we can share our memories of such a wonderful period of our lives.
Randi
I cannot for the life of me remember where I met her. That is why she remains such an enigma in my life. Randi had that unique combination of sexual appeal and female vulnerability. She was mysterious, elusive, impulsive, and dangerously cute. I had been in love before, but I had never experienced such a magnetism, or compulsion to wallow in each other's emotional ocean.
When I arrived at her apartment to pick her up for my first date, another guy walked up on her porch at the same time. We found ourselves looking at each other wondering who would knock first? After we both knocked we heard a murmur, "Go away, I don't feel good."
I walked away trying to understand what had just happened. Later I called and she tried to apologize. "I hadn't heard from you, so I made another date."
After we worked it out, she accompanied me to a floating nightclub in King Harbor at Redondo Beach. The theme was Karaoke, and after cocktails they played 60's era oldies and invited audience members to come up on stage and either mimic or sing the songs.
Little did I know Randi was waving her hand over my head, so I got invited to go up and mimic a song called "Bop-a-Lena" by the Trashmen, who had a hit with "The Bird" ("Bird, bird, the bird is the word!") which I could have handled. But I had no idea what Bop-a-Lena meant, what was being said, or how to follow the beat. I simply melted down, and the audience loved it!
Afterward I was too embarrassed to speak while she was cracking up. It was perhaps the perfect analogy for our eventual five-year-long relationship. We had many things in common, but most of all we loved to laugh, often at each other's expense.
We were together for most of my time at Ski-Surf Shop, so we went on water and snow skiing trips, and spent much of our free time with a large group of friends. She was very athletic, but most of all, very vulnerable, insecure and did I mention, sexy? She had no family ties, and kept most of her history a secret. I was aware that her mother had married SEVEN times, her brother had a history of heroin abuse and jail time. She had no idea who her real father was.
Maybe that should have been a clue, because it all ended suddenly. She literally moved out one day and cut off all contact. I was devastated. I lost 30 pounds, struggled to stay employed, and wondered if I had caused the breakup. But I think there was something telling me not to take the next step and propose marriage. The lack of any family history was the inflection point in our relationship, and proved to be terminal. Within a few months she had married a rich guy she had met through her work, and they moved up north.
A few months later, I moved to San Diego and reinvented myself.
The Rub? We spent five of the best years of my life, to that point, and then it suddenly imploded. Sometimes I find myself wondering if that incredibly fun, romantic and carefree period was nothing more than a mirage. I justify her leaving me by thinking maybe she was doing me a favor…
I have always cherished my friendships, and for the most part I have maintained them well. I have many lifetime friends, but this one ended in a way I will never understand. I haven't seen or spoken to her in over 40 years.
The Kid
I was fitting ski boots on a male customer at my snow ski shop in Rancho Bernardo when suddenly he asked me if I was married. I said "Why do you ask?" He said he just assumed my assistant and I must have owned the business together.
I wasn't romantically involved with her but I could see why he might think that. She was attractive and a hard worker. We did everything together, sponsoring remote fashion shows and holding parking lot sales. She was the software buyer and I was the hardware buyer. But our relationship was all business. I thought nothing of it.
A few days later an attractive brunette came into the store and wanted to try on some ski boots. I noticed she was wearing the same scrubs as my Doctor Customer. I asked her if she worked for Dr. Fortney, a local oral surgeon.
Years later, she admitted to me that he had recommended she go see the new guy in town. He knew she had recently ended a relationship and he thought she might find the ski shop owner "interesting".
I eventually called her up and we went on our first date. She was interesting to me because she was independent (owned her own condo), hard working, self-sufficient, and had a sweet disposition. And incredibly cute! We dated a few times, progressing very slowly. We both were coming off serious relationships and weren't too eager to stick our necks out too far. We were both focused on getting ahead financially and avoiding drama.
A couple of months later, after a few water ski trips to Kings River, we went on a 10 day houseboat trip with a few of my LA friends. The group rented a motorhome and drove 18 hours to Lake Powell, then spent 7 days on a houseboat together.
It turned out to be the best vacation any of us had ever had. The Kid fit like a comfortable pair of shoes. When you are confined on a little houseboat in incredibly tight quarters for that length of time, it tends to reveal a lot about your social skills and personal peccadillos. It was obvious from that trip that we had a future together.
My 30th birthday was coming up, so we decided it would be a good opportunity for our parents to meet. I arranged for my folks to come down from LA that weekend, and planned to go over to her folks house in Poway for a dinner introduction. Little did I know Cathy had secretly planned to have all those friends from the houseboat trip, plus dozens of others, stage a surprise 30th birthday party at her parents house.
The LA gang came early and had a few drinks before me and my folks showed up. Surprise! It was risky to throw a bunch of rowdy drunk friends into the first meeting of our folks! What was she thinking?
Before you know it the place was rocking and rolling! People were literally blasted! My mom got thrown into the hot tub fully clothed, not once but twice! Later, swimwear came off altogether! Here was my dad and her dad soaking in the jacuzzi with naked ladies they had never met! It turned into a really ribald scene, and most of the revelers passed out on the Rosson's living room floor.
The fact that everyone had so much fun and that Cathy's parents were willing to talk to me again meant that we were on the right path. I moved in with her and put my condo in Escondido up for rent.
I used the term "Kid" for Cathy for many years because she seemed as innocent as a kid. Later I learned that was a trick. She played innocent to disarm her competition. Now that I know her extreme competitiveness, her willingness to go to great lengths to win at golf, bowling, tennis, or cards, I now call her "Conchita" because she will con or cheat to win.
The Rub? In this case I knew within minutes this girl was special. It felt like my turn had finally come around, and I think if you asked her, she would say the same thing. We had too much in common: A great family tree, love of sports, a large group of longtime friends, and in many ways we're opposites, which is good. We compliment each other's shortcomings. She is her daddy's girl. Like her dad, she is clever, inventive, and extremely level headed. She is Miss MacGyver. I am the dreamer, the imagineer. I am the Skipper from Gilligan's Island.
We have since shared more than half of our lifetimes together, and raised two very healthy and productive kids. We must be doing something right.
Kelly
Our first born didn't come easily. Kelly was 17 hours in labor. I was sitting in the hospital waiting area watching the Sunday Charger game. We had rushed to the hospital at 1 AM, and thought at first it would be a quick and easy delivery. By 3 o'clock the next afternoon Cathy was in dreadful shape. I kept peeking into her room, "Is it soup yet?"
The Chargers were playing the hated rival Oakland Raiders, and there were only seconds left on the clock. They had driven down to within field goal range…now I was hoping the baby would wait just a few more minutes! Eventually the doctor decided it was time for a C-section.
They say little girls wrap their daddies around their little finger. So true. Though we struggled with work schedules and meager income at times, Kelly has always had a great attitude, an infectious giggle and a zest for life. When Jeff came along she immediately became Mommy to him. And to this day, she still is.
Cathy has an innate ability to mother. She takes to kids like they take to ice cream. So between her and Kelly, I have been blessed with two women intimately involved in holding our family together. I turn to Kelly for advice, and sometimes she offers it when I don't want to hear it. But upon reflection I am always amazed at how insightful and wise she is. I think more than a little of Cathy has rubbed off on Kelly. There is too much to say about Kelly here. I could write a whole book about her, and maybe I will…
Honorable Mentions?
I didn't have a lot of romantic relationships. More often than not, I stopped calling if I didn't sense a future. I can honestly say, I had very few female 'friends with benefits'. I have always had a problem with getting intimate with someone I don't love. That sounds old fashioned and the truth is, it is. I am afraid too many young people don't have that "problem" today.
I have always had a soft spot for dogs.
Here is my history of dog relationships. I think it is important because dogs have played important roles in my life. I am proud to say that for the majority of my time on this Earth, I have had a loyal and trustworthy dog at my side.
Lassie
As a little boy, our family dog was named Lassie, after the TV show of the same name. She was a Shetland Sheepdog, with the cutest long muzzle that often found its way to my crotch. I was too young to remember when we got her or how, but I have many fond memories of her around the house and yard and how she was extremely friendly. I also remember how she shed tons of hair, and needed constant grooming by my mom.
I will never forget a trip to Mammoth in its early days, when Dave McCoy was just developing the ski area beyond the Village. He had established a rope tow near Lake Crowley and my dad had a relationship with the owner of several small cabins. They were really cheap to rent, so after McCoy moved up to the Big Mountain, we stayed there and drove up to Mammoth Village to ski.
One day, just after arriving at the cabins, Lassie suddenly took off and ran out into the fields. My brother took off screaming "Lassie! Lassie! Come Lassie! Come!" But she ignored him, and then as we all went after her, we realized she was herding some cattle! They were grazing in the field and she was just responding to her instincts. She was a Sheepdog, and this was the nearest thing to a herd of sheep she had ever seen.
By the time we ran her down, she was black with mud! And exhausted from running around and around the cattle, who paid absolutely no attention to her. She was a gamer! But we never took her on another ski trip…
When we moved from Altadena to Palos Verdes in 1960, we didn't take Lassie with us. I don't remember what happened to her: Did mom and dad put her down? I can't remember, but as a 10 year old, it may have been too traumatic for me to process.
Owsley
I picked up a puppy in front of the grocery store when I was 17. I thought it was time to get another family dog, and he was sooo cute. And free!
He was a little black mutt, probably mostly lab. Mom thought I was reckless and thoughtless to assume the rest of the family would accept a new pet. My brother had left for college and I was still in high school but would be leaving for college in a year. She was right, I showed little interest in the responsibilities of feeding, washing, grooming, and cleaning up. Let alone training and walking little Owsley, who I named after the most popular LSD maker at the time.
Within six months I agreed to rehome my little friend, and since he was still young and healthy, I reconciled my angst, knowing he was going to a loving environment.
The Rub? I came to realize I was very young, impulsive and stupid. I had mistaken love for infatuation. I didn't even think about getting another dog for another 14 years.
Whiskey River
I met Cathy in 1980. We quickly got tired of sharing time at each other's place. I had a condo in Escondido, and she had one in Poway. She had roommates, so she came over to my place often, but that was really inconvenient since she worked in Poway.
I was winding down the Ski Outpost, and repping water skis, so I was on the road a lot. It made sense for us to share her place and rent mine out, so I moved in with her in '82. That Christmas I had a lot of ski equipment to liquidate, and so it made sense to outfit both of us for the future. For Christmas I decided to surprise Cathy with all new ski equipment. But I also had a surprise in mind. One of my shop employees had a litter of Golden Retriever/Labrador mix puppies.
Ever since that Christmas, Cathy has complained that we never had another one like that one: New skis, boots, jackets and gloves, plus a cute little puppy under our tree.
The little doggie was full of energy, running all around, ripping up wrappers, chewing on furniture and whining all night while penned up on the paper-covered kitchen floor. He was so wild, we named him after the Willie Nelson song Whiskey River.
Cathy's condo had a small backyard, about 20' X 30' with a small cement patio with a redwood table and two benches. Whiskey chewed up all of the plants and the bark off of the only tree we had. But we were crazy about him and took long walks and took him on day trips often. On one trip to Big Bear we visited friends, and while walking their four-year-old boy and Whiskey, our rambunctious dog ran past the kid and knocked him to the ground. He sustained a huge bump on his forehead and the understandably frightened parents rushed him to the local emergency room. But first they insisted we leave because we were "dangerous".
Fortunately the bump turned out to be a lot more visually threatening than actually dangerous, and within a few hours it was just a bruise. The incident scared us, but fortunately the kid was OK.
Whiskey was left in the yard when we were at work, so he would get bored and find things to dig up or chew on. One day, when he was just 2 years old, I came home to find him unconscious. He had a trail of stinky bile drooling from his mouth and his tongue was hanging out. I scooped him up and rushed to the nearby Pet Emergency Hospital. They immediately took him into the ER and sent me home.
That night at 11:30, they called with bad news: Whiskey passed away from blood poisoning. They wanted to do an autopsy, with our permission, to find out what happened. We cried all night in agony. The vet called later the next day to give us a report. Apparently Whiskey had chewed on one of the legs of our redwood table, and swallowed a splinter that punctured his intestine. The internal leakage allowed for poisonous bacteria to get into his bloodstream. He assured us that the dog had had internal bleeding for several days that would have been undetectable. With no visible symptoms, there was nothing we could have done to have saved him.
Neither one of us could function properly for a week. We worried that if this was how we raised dogs, maybe we would never have children…
Flash
A few months after the passing of Whiskey, there was a knock at the front door. Our neighbor's 7 year-old boy stood on the step with a black puppy cradled in his arms.
"When did you get a new puppy?"
"It's not mine. I found him."
"Where did you find him?"
"In the fields across the street. He was in our fort this morning. Don't know where he came from. But my dad says we can't keep him. Since Whiskey is gone, I thought maybe I could keep Flash in your backyard."
"How do you know his name?"
"Me and my friends named him."
"Son, that puppy didn't just come out of nowhere. He belongs to someone nearby. You need to return him to his rightful owner. Just think how sad they are because their new puppy is lost. Imagine if that was your puppy and one morning you woke up and he was gone!"
The little boy looked forlorn.
"I have an idea. I will keep him for one week. We will put up signs and knock on doors to see if we can find his owner. If we can't, then we will have to take him to the Humane Society. We are not ready to have another dog just yet. Are you OK with that?"
"Yes sir…"
We spent a good deal of time posting "Found Puppy" signs and walking through the neighborhood looking for Flash's real owner. In the meantime Cathy and I were falling in love with the little dog. He was just adorable and fun loving.
Flash became a part of our growing family. When we bought our house in Escondido he blossomed, having a ½ acre to romp around and many kids in the neighborhood to keep him busy. Labs are perfect pets for families with young children. They are gentle, playful and protective. Soon we had Kelly, and the two of them became best friends. Flash lived for 14 years.
Eventually I had to have him put out of his misery when his hips completely failed. That was tough, especially since on the Monday I took him to the Humane Society to have him euthanized, it turned out they were closed for Presidents Day, a federal holiday! I had to go home and go back the next day…
Sunny
We were certain we were going to be living in our house in Escondido for a long time. We loved the location, the space, the community, and the view. We waited for a year to let the grief of losing Flash to pass. As Christmas approached I decided it was time for another dog. On Christmas eve I drove to Ramona to look at a litter of yellow labs. When one of the females immediately came running towards me, I knew I had found our new pet. It was snowing, and she was being reared in the doghouse, so I felt reassured she could be comfortable living outside.
As I drove down the hill from Ramona, I passed the "Welcome To Ramona" sign. I called Cathy on my new car phone and told her I was bringing home a Christmas Baby. As the puppy laid on the passenger side seat and moaned, I said, "We should name her Mona. You know, since we got her in Ra..Mona?""
That idea didn't go over well, so it took us weeks to settle on Sundance. Then it became Sundance Kid, since I often called Cathy "Kid" as a term of endearment. In the end, we nicknamed her Sunny.
Sunny was an outdoor dog. We would only invite her inside if the weather was horrific, but she never seemed overly eager to be inside. Our yard was her domain, where she ruled over rabbits, gophers and lizards. She was a bird dog, and occasionally pounced on a distracted bird, shredding it. Then she would deliver it to our doorstep. Sunny lived to the ripe old age of 13 before succumbing to hip dysplasia.
Butch
After Jeff joined our family, Sunny had a complete family. Or maybe not…Cathy and I were gone a lot, and we began to worry that Sunny was bored. We thought maybe adding a second dog would solve that problem. When Sunny was three we adopted an Australian Sheepdog puppy from the Humane Society.
He was a little black ball of fur, and absolutely adorable. So much so that we tended to smother Butch (Butch Casady and the Sundance Kid. Get it?) with all of the attention. I would throw a tennis ball for Sunny to retrieve, and Butch would tackle her before she could get to the ball. He was a natural herding dog, but Sunny saw it as aggression. I could see her hair stand up on her back. She never liked him. As he quickly grew up to be thirty five pounds, she got increasingly annoyed with him. Before long I was getting calls at work to come home because my "dogs" were out running around the neighborhood.
They kept this up weekly, digging holes under the fence. Sunny had never wandered away. In fact we often left the gate open and she would still hang around the house, never indicating that she had a wandering eye. So it was clear to me that Butch was the trouble maker, and Sundance was more than willing to help him "disappear".
I reinforced the fencing, extending it deep into the ground. But to no avail: They kept finding ways to escape. Eventually, one of our neighbors called to "turn in" Sunny. We never saw Butch again.
When we got home, the fur in Sunny's back had laid down…
Macks
As a part of Kelly's breakup with her old boyfriend, she inherited a dog. He was a feisty Chihuahua/Cockapoo mix breed. He was not really friendly, probably because he had been abused. He was fiercely loyal to Kelly, and he took a liking to me because I would wrestle with him.
She was still living with us, building a new relationship, and working nearby so Macks was a new part of our family. This was the first time we had ever allowed a dog to live in our house. Maybe because we are getting older, or because we empathize with Kelly and her affection for the only good thing that came from her relationship with "Mike" but Cathy and I fell hard for Macks.
Unfortunately, Macks was not healthy. He suffered from occasional seizures, anxiety attacks, and poor eyesight. The vet had no remedies because the dog was simply too old to invest a lot of money in procedures that weren't necessarily going to work.
Kelly got married and moved to Fallbrook where they purchased a fixer upper with 2 acres. But it wasn't long before Kelly realized Macks was seriously ill. It was time to end his suffering, so they hired a pet euthanasia expert to send him off with the family present. It was a serious and formal way to say goodbye, but it did give us all a sense of "completion" that the little guy was surrounded by love when he was chemically put to sleep.
Abby
Jeff was finishing up college and ready to move out on his own. Cathy and I started getting serious about finding another dog. But we wanted to be sure, to find something really special. It would be a house dog, so something under 35 pounds. Definitely a female.
I was writing and was ready to publish my first paperback book . A longtime friend of the family offered to have his wife help me edit and publish my manuscript, and in exchange I promised to help her sell her pet products at large pet trade conventions in Southern California.
I attended the International Pet Industry Convention and Show in Costa Mesa at the fairgrounds. It attracted 50,000 attendees and displayed every conceivable pet product plus dozens of dog rescue organizations and hundreds of available dogs in every breed imaginable.
In between my duties at my friends booth, I visited every dog rescue pen, and looked at hundreds of lonely prospects. I learned a lot about breeds, and educated myself about their idiosyncrasies.
But nothing struck me as "The One".
Cathy and I started going to rescue rallies, where different groups would bring car loads of available dogs to local shopping center parking lots. Still, nothing felt right.
We agreed that we would know the right dog when we saw it. Until then, we would wait.
One day I was looking at CraigsList, and I saw a blurry picture of a furry white and caramel colored female Goldendoodle. The ad said it was a lost dog, and the person had found her tied to a tree near a local park. He was afraid to take her to the pound where she might get euthanized. I answered the ad and asked for some better pictures by email. Instead, the man sent a video.
As soon as I saw the dog, whom he referred to as "Abby" I knew we had to act fast. We had already agreed to name our new dog "Abby"!
I called Cathy on her cell and since she was already in La Mesa, we arranged for her to go directly to the man's apartment house to see the dog. She was nervous. She was afraid to make a decision without me. But I said "I trust your judgment. You'll know right away, so don't hesitate if you think this is The One".
I didn't hear from her for several hours. When she called she said "I think we have our baby!"
The man had found the dog while taking his dog to the park. It was tied to a tree and abandoned. He said he couldn't believe someone would abandon such a sweet and beautiful puppy. He took her to the park and asked around if anybody recognized her. When he had no response he took her home and decided to find her a new home with CraigsList. He intended to vet every potential new owner.
When Cathy came over, they went for a long walk with the man's own dog and "Abby". He let them off the leash at the park and Cathy was shocked, but they came right back when he called them. It turned out that his dog was named Abby, so what we heard on the videotape was him playing with his own dog and calling out her name.
No matter, it was serendipitous…
After a three hour interview, he awarded the puppy to Cathy before interviewing any other prospects. He thought we would be the perfect match.
I had worried that dogs are sometimes stolen then sold on CraigsList. But this man asked for nothing! He had not gotten her shots, so we would need to do that. He didn't take her to the pound, so he had no idea if she had been chipped. But when he offered to give us the dog for free, I was sure his motives were noble. He had already invested time and effort, and because his lease forbade more than one pet per household, he couldn't keep her, though he wanted to.
Cathy felt like this pup was the 'Abby' we were looking for. We didn't really want a puppy, and this dog was estimated to be about 9 months old, but otherwise she filled our fantasy requirements perfectly. I could tell when she called to confirm she was bringing Abby home that Cathy had already fallen head over heels in love.
Abby was a handful. She was a bundle of energy, racing around the yard, tearing through the house! For months we wondered if we had bitten off more than we could chew. She immediately adopted our bed as her own. She demanded our attention 24/7. But she was so sweet and loving! And beautiful! Her big brown eyes would talk us into anything she wanted. I told Cathy we should have named her Mimi, because she was all about Me, Me!
She came along at a particularly critical time in my life. I was semi-retired in 2017, and I needed something to occupy my free time. So I started walking her everyday at different places around town. It helped her burn energy and got me outside doing something besides golfing, doing yard work or sitting behind the computer writing and doing research.
Cathy was deeply involved in fitting medical devices, so Abby and I were alone together for most of the workday. She followed me around "like a puppy" and I loved every minute of it. I had never developed such a close relationship with a pet, and it would prove to be critical when the COVID19 Pandemic hit in 2020.
It is easy to forget what a dark place the COVID19 worldwide pandemic took us to. It was as if the whole world was threatened with extinction. The government became authoritarian, shutting down businesses, churches and restricting all assembly unless it was approved by big bureaucratic boards. Older people were told to remain in their homes until further notice. No birthday parties, no Christmas or New Years gatherings. No Thanksgiving family dinners.
If you got the virus, you were probably going to suffer and die! Every news cast began their programs rattling off the latest infection and death tolls. Everyone was required to cover their faces with diaper masks. After initially telling everyone the restrictions would only be temporary, they continued to escalate and roll on. When there is a natural calamity, a fire or flood, a hurricane or tornado, or even a war, it is easier to motivate yourself to face possible death. To get motivated to fight the enemy, because it is tangible and visible. But fighting a virus is like fighting shadows. It is hard to believe it is a real threat.
While we shut down our social activities, having Abby around to distract us from all of the negativity was invaluable. She had no idea that life was threatened by a virus. She just kept keepin' on!
When I eventually tested positive, I was very sick for four weeks, and Abby was right by my side. Cathy got Covid at least twice, and maybe three times. Each time she recovered faster due to natural immunity, but thank God we had our partner around, keeping us entertained and busy.
In early 2021 the world started to unravel like an old silk purse. As we learn how the Pandemic was likely a surreptitious politically engineered weapon, how the vaccine mandates were designed to exert more government controls, and how the whole sordid affair has destroyed millions of lives, I can only say my homelife, my family, and my relationships with Cathy and Abby have literally saved my life.
We have been consumed with grief for the loss of so many friends, not from the virus, but from old age and the loss of a passion to live. It seems like instead of football games and weddings, we all get together mostly to mourn the loss of another friend or relative. The pandemic and the resulting lockdowns murdered our sense of optimism. People lost their homes, their businesses, and their savings, while fighting over the proper way to fight the disease. Meantime, the politicians on all sides continue to encourage the production of biological weapons, the manipulation of economic lifelines, and the incessant use of propaganda to gaslight the masses.
This period was as far from the American Dream as America has been since the Civil War. Then just to top off a series of bad years since early 2020, in 2023 Abby suddenly started acting weird. She lost her vitality. We noticed her limping. She was reluctant to go for walks. She seemed like she had aged suddenly.
One day as I was driving her to the nearby park we liked to use for walks, she wasn't lying down on the back seat of my truck. I kept urging her to lay down for safety. When we got to the park and I went to get her leash on, I noticed a pool of vomit on the bench seat. I decided right then to return home. She immediately went into our room and laid down in her bed. I noticed she had not eaten her food..
That was on Friday, by Monday we knew something was definitely wrong. She was not responding, not showing any energy. We were able to get a vet appointment late Monday afternoon.
Within just a few minutes, the vet said, "You have a very sick dog. Her gums are very gray and that indicates something serious. I recommend you take her to the Pet Hospital right now. They can do things there I can't do."
We gathered her up and drove around the corner to the 24/7 pet hospital. They wanted to draw blood and it would take an hour or two to get the results analyzed. They sent us home and told us to wait for a call.
The analysis suggested she was suffering from IMHA (Immune Mediated Hemolytic Anemia) which causes the dogs immune system to attack the host. The immune system destroys the red blood cells resulting in a number of dangerous complications that all threaten the life of the dog.
IMHA typically occurs in middle aged dogs, can be triggered by tick or flea bites, toxic water, or any number of otherwise benign factors. It can also be the side effect of an underlying condition such as cancer. The vet recommended an immediate blood transfusion. This is because the blood cell tests are very disturbing and her life is at risk. That was phase one, but it usually only delays the process. Ultimately, she is likely to need a SERIES of transfusions, along with steroids to stimulate the immune system to recognize the cells in the new blood, and to continue to restore her proper red cell count.
Phase One treatment was going to cost $2500. Phase Two, would likely involve multiple transfusions, costing $1500 each, an MRI and Ultrasound and other more aggressive tests of bone marrow, or even spleen removal. All of which could easily raise the costs to $20,000!
We chose Phase One, and decided it was as much as we were financially able to handle. It sounds insensitive, but there are financial limits that we all have to confront. We both WORSHIPED Abby but, unlike the government, we can't print money.
We spent the next four days hoping and praying that the protocols would work. At first we saw improvement, but in just one day she started going south. By day four she couldn't stand up. Her head was slumping, her legs were shaking and she wasn't eating at all. We had to force feed her the medicine, and encouraged her to drink water, which she gulped increasingly more frequently.
Before we took her in to be put down, we had the local vet run another blood smear. He looked us straight in the eye and said her red cell count had fallen to 6%. She had very little time left and at this point she was suffering.
Walking into the Humane Society as the last customer of the day was the hardest thing I have ever done. I was racked with guilt that I hadn't protected my little girl. Cathy and I can hardly keep from bursting into tears every time we see another Goldendoodle on TV, which is every fifteen minutes!
Rest in peace my sweet baby. God only knows where we'd be without you…
***