Oh, Hi Mr. Rattle Snake...

I see a lot of creatures when I run at the beach.  Most often I see bunnies, lizards and quail.   I see enough road-runners, often with a lizard dangling from their mouths, that they do not surprise me anymore.  Same for the sea lions, though  the dead ones washed up on the beach make me a bit sad - and the ones with large chunks missing make me worry about sharks.  I've seen several different species of hawks, an osprey, and an owl which flew about a foot over my head one evening this summer. Once I even saw a naked surfer.  He wasn't surfing, but changing into is wetsuit on the beach.  While surprised, I enjoyed the view.

Last week I ran across a creature which will keep me on the paths.  This guy:

 

 Not more than 30 seconds before I encountered this rattle snake I walked past an information sign showing animals found in the sea cliff habitat surrounding me.  I said to myself, I'd seen every creature on that board except a rattle snake.  Then I thought, I bet there aren't really any rattle snakes close to the paths because of the number of people strolling up and down to the beaches.  Two steps later - Oh My G!  There is a rattle snake!!

So I did what any normal person would do, I ran to my car, grabbed my camera, and ran back to take pictures.  The top picture was the last one I took.  After snapping it I looked down to see the once sleeping snake awake and looking at me.  Time to go.

What scares me about Mr. Snake is he was about 2 paces off the board-walk path.  That is within striking distance of people on the path.  Many people, especially kids and runners, walk and run just off the path. 

I will be keeping my eyes on the paths from now on - and staying away from the edges.

Missing Ripley

I miss her most when I go for a walk alone along the streets I use to walk her down.  My feet slow past her favorite sniffing spots, and I bow my head and look away as I pass her doggie friends.   My throat tightens and my eyes well-up with tears.  I feel an empty, gaping whole in my heart.  I am missing Ripley.

In early August we said good-bye to Ripley, or German Shepherd Dog.  She had a cancerous tumor in her bladder - incurable and inoperable.  It was devastating.

We adopted Ripley from the Virginia German Shepherd Rescue in February 2004.  I looked at many pictures of dogs on the rescue's site.  Something in her face pulled me to her - it said me and no other, and from the moment we meet we bonded.  She was our family dog, but she was my dog.

She was glued to my side.  For the six and a half years she was with us, no matter who else was home, if I was out she waited by the door.  She slept on the floor on my side of the bed.  She even curled up on the rug outside the shower waiting for me to finish.  She ran with me while I trained for marathons.  She walked with me when I needed to get out of the house.  I returned that love and devotion - more than I thought, more than I understood, until I lost her.

Now I see her shadow in the corner, by the door,  and sleeping beside me.  It gets easier as the days go by, but sometimes, some moments, when I forget, I call her, or look around for her, or wake and reach down for her.  Then I remember.  Then tears well up again.  Then I feel lonely again.

I have stopped going for walks in the neighborhood.  Our move to the new house can not come soon enough.

I am missing Ripley.