Dog Days in Michigan
July 1, 2005

I am sorry for my absence here - particularly because so many hundreds of Steve’s amazing radio family took time to send condolences for Chamois. I answered the first wave, but then I was re-saddening, so I filed them and will answer soon, I promise. I miss her especially up here in Michigan, where she loved to gaze at the beach from the upstairs bed, and made us nuts by rolling in dead fish and sand. She would come home to Chicago with sand flea bites, and chew herself raw. When she was young, she would rush past any opened door, bolt down the 100 stairs to the water, and frolic by the water. To teach her how naughty she was, we would have to climb back up with her, and give her a time out on the porch while she dried off. It almost gave us a heart attack! Now Mabel does the same thing, but with reckless force. She is like a pin sweeper, pushing any human being aside, then plunging into Lake Michigan with her snout pointed to Saugatuck.

Last month, we came here for a few days, and Steve commented that the place was looking rough - and after 20 years of boys and dogs, he was not wrong. He said the “feng shui” was off. He went to work the next day, and Mike and I decided to ditch the corner section of the sectional, and make a long couch. We figured this would open the room, and create feng shui. So we dragged it out, and it got lodged in the doorway. Mabel leaped upon it, off of it, and chugged to the lake. We abandoned the damn thing on the sidewalk and gave chase. She was headed out to sea, and we were treat and leash free. We had to throw a hundred pieces of driftwood before she would fetch one and be apprehended. We almost left her in the garage with the abandoned section. Funny thing was - when Steve returned from work, he didn’t notice

A few weekends ago, I brought both dogs here, knowing it was Chamois’ last time. She couldn’t go up all the stairs, and it was part of the basis for our decision to put her to sleep: she could not even enjoy a place that she loved. I was walking Mabel in the parking lot on one of those extend-a-leash doo-dads, and I was bouncing a tennis ball into her mouth to keep her attention. Steve was running, and she saw him. She lurched with all her might to greet him, and it ricocheted so intensely that I went up in the air and came down like a sack of potatoes. Then she dragged me a few steps for good measure. Mind you, I am not a feather- she is an ox! Steve had his glasses off and was sweating into his eyes, but he said he thought “Who is that idiot who has that big dog on that weird leash?” TA-DA. That would be me. I was purple and scraped the next day, but the image of myself flipping up into the air made us both laugh, and forgive Mabel. It is also why I brought the Gentle Lead up here for any future walks. I have some dignity left.

Our place here is not a lah-di-dah summer place like you see in the magazines. It is a small condo, built with the lowest construction values upon a beautiful slab of beach. We bought it when Matt was a little baby, during Steve’s last year at ABC. We had an appointment to look in St. Joseph for a cottage, but the kids were wailing at the 70 mile mark, and we decided to get off the highway and look around. While I nursed Matt, Steve followed the signs to our complex. An hour later, we had deposited $1000 in earnest money. Even in times of unemployment, we have clung to it.

[ See more photos in the Janet's Planet Gallery. ]