Catching Up

March 5th, 2016

I've been a  bit of a sloth about blogging because A} I've never done this before and B} this new computer has been a drag.  Not to mention I was sick with food poisoning which set off my IBS and knocked me flat for days.  BUT!  I'm Baaaack!  When Doug comes for a week every other week we like to get out and about and explore the area, walk, take in new sights and try new things. 
So .... they (whoever "they" are) say a picture is worth a thousand words so here is a blog of photos of just a few of the GREAT people we have met through Zuma.  

The lovely Nun is so special. Talk about Good Karma.  This sweet woman was besotted with the dog and Zuma instantly adored her. And their outfits match.

There are the sweet little girls who weigh a fraction of what Z weighs:

Lovely families:

Cool college guys:

An adorable, animal-loving young girl:

Oh, I hope this girl finds a Dane in her future.

Darien, Georgia

February 27, 2016

Doug has to leave in a couple of days to go back to Maine so we decided to go on a day trip today.  After thumbing through some touristy guides, I found Darien, GA, listed as an unspoiled shrimp fishing town with a nice seafood restaurant.  Kelly had told me about this place and highly recommended it so we started out for a seaside excursion.  

On the way we drove through Savannah so Doug suggested we walk Zuma at Forsythe Park and a then stop for coffee and tea at his new fave coffee shop.

The Azaleas are starting to peak now, the daffodils are in full bloom as are the Camellias.  It's Spring here.  But the locals still call it Winter.

To our great delight, there was a Farmer's Market at the Park!  

We cruised through it and bought local honey for Zuma (the vet suggested a TBSP of local honey a day to help with her skin allergies), a loaf of spinach bread, homemade Brie, candied pecans and ginger molasses cookies.  Everything was homemade and delicious.  Zuma wagged her tail non-stop.  

After we logged three miles on our pedometers walking Zuma around the Park we munched on these goodies and sipped our hot drinks as we headed south to Darien,.   While at Forsythe, we met some cool dogs and people, including "The Three Little Pugs":

All rescues, all happy little dogs who loved meeting Zuma.  

Savannah is so dog-friendly and people here really take care of their dogs.  We're starting to get to recognize the regular walkers. 

Off to Darien!  To call it a sleepy little shrimping town would be pretty  uh .... exact.  There's not much going on in Darien.  Curious me, I wanted to check out the shrimping fleet.  

 

We had the great good fortune to walk down to the dock for a closer look and we met up with a guy who was happy to tell us about shrimpin' and eager to hear about lobster fishing in Maine.  He works on the boats (but doesn't go fishing, he suffered seasickness once and that was enough for him) so I picked his brain.  He informed us that the shrimp season is year round but once the weather warms up the shrimpers "have to go chase 'em".   So we are here at the right time, there's lots of fresh shrimp available right now.  The row of boats at this privately owned dock where the guy works is all owned and operated by one large family. There are 17 boats in the fleet.  It's really impressive.

Throughout the village of Darien are a lot of very cool old buildings: 

Many are built with shells and mortar:

Kelly recommended Skippers' Fish Camp for lunch so we went there that day and again two days later for another day trip fresh whole grilled Flounder and crab dip.  

The residents clearly have a sense of humor:

We walked Zuma around town and enjoyed the lack of tourists and the slow pace of life there.  We stopped into a new shop, it was open for only a week, a small shop, Turnip Greens.  They sell fresh produce and dry goods,  A real find hosted by a couple who are truly invested in putting Darien on the map.

It's a very small, unspoiled fishing town.  We will go back.

  

RV Living

March 3rd, 2016

This is the best, ya'll.  It's raining here.  My Dad always said there is no sound better than rain on a tin roof.  We don't have a tin roof but the thin fiberglass skin of the RV really accentuates the pattering sound of raindrops overhead and I love it.  Zuma has buried herself under the covers and refuses to rise to venture out for her last evening trot.  She met a Yorkie next door this evening and now she is fixated on Lucy-Lou and can't concentrate on bodily functions.  

I suspect Zuma will shove a wet muzzle into my eye sockets around 2 a.m. requesting relief.  I'm fine with it.  I'm learning to relax and chill out and not push myself to fit into a time schedule.  
We're on Tybee Time.

I seriously need to find a rescue Yorkie for Zuma.  She just loves them, their feisty confidence is perfect for her.  But I am concerned that she will lick it to pieces, she is a matronly soul.

RV living is definitely different from anything we've ever done in our lives.  Never did I imagine dwelling in a crowded campsite in a "tiny house" but we have found this fabulous place with excellent services and a surprising amount of privacy.  Best of all are the people and the dogs. We RVers are all "gypsies" in a sense, wandering around the country, admiring and enjoying America.  

Our RV "Hula Girl" is 25' in length, a "land yacht" as Carol (whom we met in Ocean City) calls it.  Yep, it's not unlike dwelling on our sailboat SURGE.  Everything is scaled down.  If you haven't watched the documentary "TINY HOUSES", it's a must-see before tackling RV life.  You just have to be flexible.  Both emotionally and physically.  

We went to look at RVs and found this vehicle and fell in love.
This is Doug at what I call "Ground Control".  He has his laptop set up in the passenger seat so he can work from here.

It's really nice.  A 2015 model with less than 3,500 miles, it's brand new.  The kitchen/galley is roomy other than lacking counter space. We just get inventive in our Tiny House.  The dining area is compact but really cozy and I can work on the computer during the day and shove it all aside for dinner. Who cares?  It's just "stuff" and there's a fabulous king size bed waiting.  Yeh, the bedroom is pretty simple but it's a fantastic retreat at the end of a long day outside.  The bed is fabulously comfortable and we don't feel like we are "camping".

Several years ago, my friend Johnna and I rented a teeny camper for weekends when our girls were showing horses.  We wanted to be "on site" and it seemed like a fun way to spend a horse show weekend.  Johnna made a stellar comment about the tiny shower stall:  "You just spray soap on the walls and spin around"; this always cracked me up.  Our shower stall is bigger than that but it's uh .... compact.  And if we need to stretch out,  the bath houses here are spotlessly clean.

THE ABSOLUTE BEST THING about this whole traveling experience (I apologize if I'm repeating myself) is the people we are meeting.  OMG, people are so nice.  I'm invited for cocktails/dinner tomorrow night with two groups of people on two different sites and I've only known them for a few minutes.  People "on the road" are so friendly, interesting and welcoming.  For those who know me, this is out of my comfort zone.  I realize now that I'd become a recluse back in Maine.  Never wanting to go to parties/large group functions.  Sure, I love hosting a party, having people over for an evening, dinner, lunch, etc.  But now, away from my secure home in Hope, Maine, I'm loosening up and enjoying getting "out there".  I'm just overwhelmed by the generosity of people (thanks to Zuma The Ice Breaker).  Zuma is invited to all the campfire parties, she loves it.  I'm looking forward to the weekend.

Here is a photo of our RV ("Hula Girl") at night:  

We picked up some lights to surround the area where the picnic table is; it's just enough subtle light to see where we're going.  

This trip and this blog is all about Zuma.  She and I need stimulation, sunlight and exercise.  Yeh, Doug and I wanted to escape a horrific Maine Winter.  Last year was Winter HELL. Thankfully for the folks in Maine, it's been a really mild Winter this year.

At this stage, Doug's work schedule keeps him away from here half the time; he is totally dedicated to his work but that's okay, he has to do what he has to do.  Once he gets through his Boat Show and travel commitments we will have more time together.  He's not yet ready to retire and I don't blame him.  We both need to be busy and he loves his work.  He makes calls, texts and e.mails all day from here, then he goes back to Maine frequently to touch base.  The guys at the office are champs and Emma is doing a fabulous job holding things together at the farm.  

We have been meeting with a lot of youngish retirees.  It's a struggle to recognize that we are into this stage of life but hey, that's reality.  I remember a wise elderly man saying to me years ago:  "Don't be too busy making a living to make a life".  
Oh, so true.

Jekyll Island

February 24, 2016

On our way home from St. Augustine we stopped to explore Driftwood Beach on Jekyll Island.  This was a real treat for Zuma, I planned it so she would get to cut loose after a couple of days of heat.  Doug bought a long piece of rope from the local campground store and we let her wander amongst the fantastic driftwood pieces. This was Heaven for her, climbing and running and jumping over and around the land-deprived trees.

If you have plans to produce a horror movie this would be a great setting.

Kelly stays here at the RV Park most of the time and she had told me about the beach but I didn't realize how MUCH driftwood is there.  It is really a spectacular beach, haunting trees both standing and fallen over.  I've certainly never seen anything like it and will definitely take Zuma there again.  

She absolutely loves it there.

Zuma played brave dog and galloped in the waves, gallantly barking at them and lapping them.  

She was clearly smiling, Dog Style.  She has a good memory, but it's short.  She forgets that salt water tastes awful.  Ugh, salt water. She drank a LOT of fresh water once we returned to the car.

What a beautiful place.  Zuma was so excited to be on the beach.

St. Augustine

February 23 and 24th, 2016 

I have to be honest, hand scratching writing notes in the car (so my addled brain doesn't forget all the things that happen) about our days isn't working for my over-organized brain.  Scribbled on scraps of paper and napkins litter the floor of the passenger side of our car and I realized today that I messed up and forgot to include our trip to beautiful St. Augustine, Florida last week.  

Doug and I have just been having too much FUN and RELAXATION and I've been a sloth about blogging.  "I'll do it tomorrow, when I'm fresh", then we take off .... "I'll do it this evening", then we sit by the fire and I blow it off again.  I love blogging.  It's a great way to keep in touch with ya'll, but, the lazy casual life on "Tybee Time" is impossible to resist.  It's comfortably warm.  We are all relaxed.  No schlepping wood for the wood stoves, no horse chores as Emma has the farm totally under control, no shoveling my way out of the house with frozen shut snow-clogged doors to walk Zuma, who, at this time of year in Maine, refuses to venture outside.  Ice and snow limit my exercise too.  Here, if we need ice or firewood, we simply ask the Camp Hosts when they go by on their golf carts or call the office.  It is promptly delivered to our door.  No driving or plowing through snowbanks.  No wrestling logs for the wood stove, no sweeping up afterwards.  I could so get used to these luxury services.

We've been taking day trips the past few days and exploring the area, going out for meals wherever dogs are welcomed (pretty much everywhere if the dining facility houses a deck).  Water bowls are generously provided without requesting them.  Zuma appreciates all the "room service".  No way would we abandon her in the RV and go out for dinner.  We wouldn't have a nice time if we had to leave her.  She is so well-behaved wherever go, she just lays down until someone makes a fuss of her.  Then the tail starts waving and a crowd draws near.  Zuma just loves it.  We have met multitudes of good people because of Zuma.  

Sometimes it's difficult to shove a mouthful of salad in my mouth without it tumbling out while I stammer to answer questions. But that's okay, it's fine.  

A friend of mine traveled with me to Cayo Costa, Florida a few times the past few years;  we hopped on a ferry to Cabbage Key for lunch.  Famous for the reputation that Jimmy Buffett wrote one of his hits, "Cheeseburger in Paradise", it is a popular place.  The restaurant staff wear these shirts, answering the most frequently asked questions about the menu and the $ amount of bills tacked to the walls (all donated to charity annually):

I joked with Doug that I should get a t-shirt made for Zuma.  It would read:

Zuma
Great Dane
He's a She
4 years old in April
4 cups kibble a day

Last Sunday I met a woman who has owned Danes; she whispered to me:  "Don't you wish you had a dollar for every time people asked "Do you have a saddle for that horse?".  We had a good laugh.  Yeh.  I'd be a millionaire.

When Doug is here he takes over and is really great at public relations. While people sometimes shy away from this large dark beast, we welcome the generosity of people's genuine love and understanding of Great Danes and other large breed dogs.  If this trip does anything, it will hopefully inspire people to recognize that big dogs are nice dogs.  

We didn't start out on this trip thinking it would take the twists and turns it's taken, but that's life, it's the journey, not the destination.  I welcome the ever-evolving way our travels are taking us. While Zuma is still young enough to do this, I want to keep traveling with her and Doug. It would be even more perfect if Emma were here, she is an excellent dog handler and Zuma worships her.

The main problem with Great Danes is that they don't live long. We knew that going in.  Their life expectancy is 7 - 8 years because of heart and hip conditions.  We keep her fit and don't overdo it.  She and Emma are "our kids".  Sadly, Emma is so busy with her many jobs she cannot join us right now but hopefully soon .... She was Zuma's rescuer and Zuma goes insane when she sees Emma.  She knows.  She knows.  And she is like an elephant.  She never forgets who saved her.

Anyway, back on topic!  We tripped to St. Augustine, Florida and we loved it.  On the way to St. Augustine we detoured and visited Amelia Island and a darling little town called Fernandina Beach where we popped into The Palace Saloon, apparently "Florida's Oldest Saloon", according to one of the tour books I am using for research.  

St. Augustine is a gorgeous, historic place, with a tiny center filled with old buildings, shops and homes.  St. Augustine was founded in 1565, the streets are narrow and the tourists fill them.  Fogler College has residency in a gorgeous palatial like set of buildings.

The architecture is definitely Spanish-inspired.

Zuma hung out in the a/c while we had a two hour walk around St. Augustine and I walked her later in the day when it was cooler (it was in the low 80s until almost 5 p.m.).  She felt refreshed then and we were able to walk a couple of miles near the hotel without exhausting her.  

We ordered Mexican takeout from La Cocina for dinner, it was without a doubt the best Mexican food I've ever tasted.  Fresh, innovative, a true, honest Mexican meal.

The following day on the way home to Tybee, we stopped by "Citrus World" in Florida and "Peach World" in Georgia, both tourist traps I couldn't resist.  Kelly had a chuckle about this:  "I would never stop by those places" she scoffed.  "Well, it's for the blog" I rationalized.  We giggled.  Both were let downs but Doug and I tried.  We bought peach cider (no alcohol) and we'll partially freeze it to make slushy drinks on a hot day. 

Doug and Zuma

February 25 and 26, 2016

The weather here is absolutely perfect for walking Zuma and she is loving trekking for 5 miles a day.  3 miles is a slow day.  If we were in Maine I'd be wrapping her in her winter coat and shoving her out the door for a brief walk to the barn to complete horse chores.  She would be shivering at the barn door; as much as she loves the horses, like most Danes, we are told, they dislike the cold. She would be curled up in her fluffy bed in front of the crackling wood stove.

Here, she is outside all day, the RV (Hula Girl, as Doug has named her) on a long line, celebrating life with her comfy bed nearby and multiple short walks for "business" along with a 5 mile daily jaunt. When the temperature retreats into the 60s, Zuma starts to shiver and she wants to be inside in her bed.  The RV door is always open so she can come and go as she pleases and Doug and I are always with her.

When I am working, Doug and Zuma like to go into Savannah.  The two times I turned them loose in the city  Doug decided to go for a walk in the city, they were approached by SCAD (Savannah College of Art and Design) students and had their photograph taken as part of an art school project.  "What was the assignment?" I inquired.  Doug:  "I dunno, old guys with dogs?"  We had a good laugh about that.  

Today, the 25th, they went for an outing to Forsythe Park again and attracted a pair of SCAD students whose assignment was "How is your life affected by your dog?"  or something like that.  

Doug willingly responded to their questions, he told me.  Life with Zuma is not like life with any other dog!  Then he presented them with Zuma's business card which has the link to her/our blog and they all but gasped!  Yep, life with Zuma is definitely a defining part of our existence!

Today (26th) we all walked along River Street; it is difficult to walk without Zuma attracting people.  We met some great people. There was a very funny/sad scene where a middle-aged woman snatched up her Yorkie with a yelp and ran, clutching her baby, across the street when she spied us 100' away.  As this was happening, Zuma was making friends with another Yorkie and three small children.  Many photos were taken and the parents of the children and their teeny dog were delighted. 

I worry about Zuma, she is so sensitive, all Danes are usually rather emotionally delicate, I don't want her to feel freakish because of her size.  People who know dogs suggest it is because she is black she appears more of a prescence.  WHOA!  Don't even go there with me. She is a true kindred spirit and if people did a little research and understood these "Gentle Giants", the world would be a better place.  We hope Zuma will continue to be an ambassador for the breed.  They are sweet, eager to please and friendly when well-socialized.

I was feeling pretty sad for Zuma afterwards, as she takes it all in. One of her best dog pals here is a Yorkie (Peanut).  

Traveling to our car, two tourists we have met with in the past weeks called out, "Hi Zuma!".  They came over to her, crossing a lawn in high heels for a snuggle and I swear she remembered them. Her tail wagged like crazy and she joyfully licked their faces.  The timing could not have been more perfect.

Kindness.  Acceptance.  It melts my heart.  

Tracing Zuma

February 19, 2016

Kelly cracks me up.  Ever since I found out that Sandra Bullock and some other celebrities have homes here, Kelly launched into Super Sleuth mode.  

Kelly located Sandy's home and she's our neighbor!  Who knewwww?!  Doug says now to find John Mellencamp's getaway home on Tybee!  Miley Cyrus has a place here, too, but we don't care.

I have been struggling with this computer.  On the 9th I spent the day inside trying to write, but the computer kept acting up.  I called Google for support.  They wanted money.  We already paid for the Super Duper Protection Program, so NO.  They told me my computer has "malicious viruses".  It feels like a scam.

The constantly revolving cast of campers keeps life interesting.  An elderly couple parked near us last week and the man was very friendly.  As it turned out, he is a professional Santa Claus "and I take it very seriously", he added.  He lost his dear dog one Christmas Eve (oh, the irony) and his neighbor offered him a small, fuzzy bundle of puppy. He accepted the little furball and they quickly bonded.  His name?  St. Nick.  Nick for short.  "I wanted to call him Bubba but my daughter insisted on St. Nick", he told us.  Nick and Zuma met and liked each other (Zuma likes everyone, man or beast) until Nick tried to hump Zuma's head.  Having never experienced such sexual boldness, Zuma looked quizzically at me and I swear she rolled her eyes at me as she swiftly walked away from Nick.  She's just not that kinduv girl, Santa.  And Nick may want to rethink his Christmas list.

Shortly after midnight on Monday the 15th I woke up with baby aliens gurgling inside me.  Instinct told me that was not a good sign.  Food Poisoning.  Needless to say, the week was pretty much a total "write-off" with no stamina and no computer.  Plus it was rainy and windy a few days and Zuma doesn't like that kind of weather.  I've been too weak to do much of anything but am on the mend now, thankfully.  I know it was triggered by lobster bisque from a large chain grocery store.  I should have known better. Never again.

Doug arrived this afternoon and pulled the laptop together.  
In the meantime, I mustered up some courage (in my lucid moments) to contact the people I thought were Zuma's breeders. When I called I delicately questioned the date they had a litter in April, 2012 and it was Zumas birthdate (according the the veterinary vaccination records that came with her).  It was a challenge to ask her if they had traded an unnamed 8 week old puppy for a lawnmower but I inquired anyway.  She immediately burst into tears "That was my husband, I didn't want him to do that".  I knew then my hunch had been right.  I just didn't know where to begin.  For the rest of the conversation, as I explained that the totally neglected dog had been rescued by a kindly neighbor from the lawnmower people, she sobbed.  I struggled to avoid thinking about her husband getting a skillet across the head when he got home that night. 

The breeder thanked me profusely when I assured her Zuma is safe and well and much-loved.  She listed off the names of Zuma's parents and there is no worrisome medical history in the families she comes from.  Phew.  Interestingly enough, both her parents are now retired and her mother is a therapy dog.  I could tell this woman really loves her dogs. 
   
I felt horrible disclosing the torrid truth, but we both had to know the real story, about how a good Samaritan neighbor intervened when she saw the 5 1/2 month old puppy in a crate too small to stand up in or turn around and paid the owners $200.00 for her, threatening to call the authorities if they didn't comply.  About how the dog was standing in 6 inches of feces and urine and rarely let out, except for occasionally being tied with a 3' leash.  When I met her, I cried.  Her feet and skin were rotting.  Her coat was horrible and she was THIN.  About the fact the lawnmower dealers were feeding the puppy cat food.   And that her worm burden was so huge my veterinarian said she felt sorry for me when she looked at the egg count.  The puppy was severely overloaded with parasites, fleas, worms, yuk.  The poor puppy.

The Good Samaritan woman didn't need another dog, she lived in a townhouse with her husband, six children and a Newfoundland.   But she sure as heck wasn't leaving the dog there.  The people who had the puppy were moving and they took the money and left her with no emotion, I was told.

The Rescuer bathed the puppy and fed her properly and did her best to control a serious flea problem.  But with this Wild Child and all the other household occupants, she knew quickly that it was too much.  She made a poster and took a copy to several places hoping to find the puppy a loving home; she delivered one poster to the grooming salon where our daughter was working at the time. Emma immediately called me as I'd been looking for a rescue Dane for two years.  The rest is history!

I admit, I was a bit shaky having this flung at me with no lead-up, but I had done a lot of "homework" and I knew this would be the breed for me.  We've always had Shepherd mixes and one Lab so we are used to large breeds .... but Great Danes are a different dog altogether.

I wanted a dog I didn't have to bend over to pet, one who would go with me when I ride my horse on the farm.  A friend of mine had one, he was fabulous.  His name was Zazu and he was adored by all for his genuine, gentle personality.  Once I met him, I was hooked.

Emma and a mutual friend drove me to the grocery store that sunny September afternoon and we met the rescuer in the parking lot to meet the puppy.  I met her and then had to seriously think about this huge commitment.  But I couldn't put that sweet, struggling dog out of my mind.  

We went back again after five days.  I knew it was the ight thing, take this dog on and it would all work out.  Eventually.  She was WILD at the end of a leash with newfound freedom.  She was all legs.  She looked like a dog crossed with a giant spider.  I had to think about it very, very seriously.  This was a huge commitment. 

Emma and our friend took me to a local restaurant and we went over the pros and cons as they fed me two Bloody Marys and the next thing I knew Emma was driving us all home with a crazed Great Dane puppy bouncing around in the back seat. 

Emma was a Champ.  She took the puppy right to the grooming salon where she worked at the time (Yankee Groomer in Rockport, Maine, thank you, Liz) and bathed her.  She came home smelling much more fresh and full of herself.  She knew she was HOME.  She bonded immediately with Emma and I.  When Doug arrived home from work, she growled at him.  Protecting us, I guess?  She quickly warmed up to him.  She was just so desperate to find security and her low rumblings were a sign of her insecurity, I think.  

She was a sad sack of a dog.  Malnourished and over exuberant about any attention bestowed upon her.  She was pooping spaghetti from a roundworm overburden.  Emma had taken care of the flea population and we had put her on Heartworm/flea medications immediately.  Never again did she have a problem with parasites.

Now we had yet another orphan for the farm and our family.  It's difficult to choose a name you want to call.  But I knew exactly what her name would be.  I wanted it to start with Z, in honor of Zazu who inspired me to find a Dane.  I chose the name Zuma. 
It means peace in Hebrew.  I'm not religious in any way, shape or form and I'm not Jewish, but this darling dog needed a good karma name; my research showed me that Gwen Steffani named her sone Zuma.  If it's good enough for Gwen, it's good enough for us.