Other's voices

"I've never seen a dog with a more expressive face.... the last of the real gentlemen. The end of an era." Richard Orzeck, DVM. Trumansburg, NY
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I'm glad i got to meet him.. He was everything you described and more. The first time i met him.. i remembered being so frightened when I saw how big he was, and he looked at me: "easy buddy, I'm not gonna do anything to you..unless I really want to! =)" and when we were inside to was so polite and gentle.. G. Eagan, Cortland, NY
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I have such fond memories of you walking by my house with your guys Flag and Kuro back in the days when we were neighbors! I can remember when I first met Kuro, but what I remember most was that enormous head! He was very kind to allow this crazy lady that he hardly knew to get right up into his face in pure amazement of the size and beauty of that head!

I swore it was the biggest and most beautiful dog head I'd ever seen! I've spoken of this to so many people and will never forget it. So for your patience, I thank you Kuro for allowing me to love you up for a few minutes that day, and to admire you daily as you walked by." A. Marshall, Seneca Falls, NY
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Kuro is gorgeous! Beautiful head, wonderful boy--I don't blame you for being so passionate about him B. Bouyet
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I look at pizza bones and think of Kuro, not that Nikka doesn't like them , but I just love the way Kuro would give us a kiss before and after eating them . He didn't mind if it was veggie or meat pizza bone... I've printed out one of my favorite photos of him . I have it sitting on the dining room table so I can talk to him and let him know what a great friend he was to me . He was the one who had me get over my fear of big dogs; as well I did not have an allergic reaction to him . I could even put my face down into his fur... I glad that you called and had me come on Saturday . If you hadn't, I would not have said a quiet good bye to him. E. Mason, Lodi, NY

The Best Dog - Ever

It's easy to eulogize someone after they've died, and overlook or ignore the irritating and exasperating traits they had. Kuro was not perfect. He was, however, a damned Good Dog. Actually, he was the Best Dog Ever.

My ex-neighbor S emailed me yesterday. "Geez it wasn’t that long ago that he enjoyed escaping from your backyard on Kraft Road. I remember finding him one day eating a dead deer along Route 89 – I’ll be that was an excellent adventure day for him! He was a great guy, a big old gentle bear."

While the visual of him chowing down on rotting venison is not an appetizing image, I needed to hear this. I needed to be reminded that not so very long ago Kuro was in the prime of his life, and was hale, hearty and robust in health, spirit and will.

My nickname for Kuro was 'Butthead' -- saved for times when he was being the less than perfect canine. S's email reminded me of the fortifications I had to build to keep him in the back yard. 8 foot fences, chicken wire dug in along the bottom, fencing dug 2 feet into the ground.

I ended up calling the 'dog pen' (what to others would be a fenced yard) the Dog Stockade. Several times I'd be home, with the dogs allegedly safely contained in the yard. I'd get an itchy feeling at the back of my neck. 'Haven't seen The Big Guy for a couple of minutes...' Heading to the back of the yard, I'd find him climbing the 8 foot fence.

Each time he'd look at me and with his expression clearly say 'hey! look at what I'm doing! Aren't you proud of me?' He would literally climb 8 foot fences to enjoy an adventure in the great wide world. When I caught him in the act, I'd roll my eyes in exasperation, while he dropped down and came to me for a hug.

When I swam in Cayuga Lake, the dogs would run parallel to my course, running out to the end of docks, then scampering along the shoreline to keep up with me. When I turned, they did too.

Last summer, I had stopped to speak with a couple who were enjoying an early morning coffee at the foot of their dock. The dogs ran up to say polite hello's. Kuro then waded into the water, chest deep. By this time, he was already quite unstable. He clearly was worried about the uncertain rocky footing. That day, however, he gave me a round faced look. His expression clearly said 'I'd come out there if you'd hold me.'

So I did. "I'll help you, honey." I extended my arms. He waded in and swam to me, then paddled gently for several minutes with my arms supporting him. When he was ready, I let him go, and he swam regally to shore.

Kuro was not very vocal, but his expressions said as much as words. There were times where he'd be sacked out on one of his beds, and without moving his head, his eyes would track my movements -- rather like being watched by a whale or porpoise. Invariably, he was telling me to 'c'mon over and pet me!'

Boy, did he have me well trained. For of course I would. Who could resist?

One time, when we still lived at Kraft Road, I'd put the pups into the back yard and told them firmly "GO PEE!" Kuro did so immediately, then came inside into the kitchen. He made sure I was looking at him, then looked at the cookie jar, then at me, then back at the jar. Words could not have expressed his desire any more clearly.

Again, who could resist?

I miss his 'wooooo!' of happiness. I miss the way he could make his face round, turning it into a perfect circle, when he was happy and excited. I miss how, when he knew I was walking over to pet him, he'd scrunch is body up just for a second in anticipation of the caress.

Above all, I miss just having him with me.

I love Kuro with all my heart, took the good - nay, great - with the not-so-good, and am so incredibly grateful that this amazing boy graced my life.

Giving up those furry pajamas.

I had my beloved best friend euthanized last night. Kuro has been released from his old, old body, and has shed his furry pajamas.

When he came to me in June of 2000, the vet said he was seven or eight. I truly expected that I'd have him only a year or two. Big dogs don't live long. I had 10 grand, amazing years with this boy, who was a Prince among Princes. Funny, smart, loyal, gorgeous, affectionate, kind, gentle. He loved to be vacuumed and clipped - most dogs hate these! I am beyond grief.

The Big Guy has been winding down the last few months. Kuro's life had become more and more limited as his spine, hips and knees degenerated. It was time.

He had a great day yesterday. K was relaxed, happy, cool and cherished until the very last minute. The vet came to the house, and I held him until he was gone.

I spent much time and energy providing hospice care for the past several months. Someone (some knucklehead) said 'wow, your life with be so much easier when he's gone.' This is true. It's also unbelievably empty.

I do not resent or regret any of the thousands of times I helped him rise, lie down, get up the stairs or down them, or picked him up when he fell. Cleaning up his messes were part of helping him. Shopping for his food and cooking for him were a joy. I'd still be doing it if he had quality of life.

If I'd have been able to throw money at the problem to fix it, to fix him, I'd have done it. The last, best gift I could give him, the last, best act I could do to help my boy was to simply let him go.
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I remember the first time I saw him 10 years ago in June. NL, the director of Akita Rescue called. "There's a big male in Cleveland who needs to be temperament tested. Can you do it?"

"No, I've got 2 weeks of finals, it's a seven hour drive EACH WAY, this is crazy."

Which is why I drove to Cleveland. And back. In one day. The young couple who had retrieved him after he was shoved out of that truck and started galloping down the highway met me at a thruway exit. When I first saw "Henry" I was awestruck. What a gorgeous, lovely, big boisterous boy, filled with life and vigor.

He came home with me. I'd planned on fostering him, since "male Akitas can't be re-homed with another male." I already had a male Dalmatian, Flag, who, fortunately, was way down the pack hierarchy.

Then I had a dream, in which my first Akita Cagney appeared. She told me she had sent me this dog because I'd given her the best 9 months of her life. He was her way of thanking me. I needed to take my grief and put that energy into someone who needed me.

He transformed into Kuro. The word means 'black' in Japanese -- for his beautiful black mask and because he was less than spotless when he came to me.

Barbara Bouyet, the premier Akita expert in the U.S.: "He's gorgeous!" I know.

Michelle Bamburger, local animal behaviorist: "You have exceptional dogs!" I know.


I was so very, incredibly lucky to have this terrific, amazing dog grace my life. I miss him terribly already.

I now have the thankless task of telling friends, family, neighbors, and patients who love him that he's gone. I'm worried about some of my more fragile patients, whom he helped far more than I ever could.

Last night, G said 'Death comes to the best of us.'
'He IS the best of us.'

Memories of K:
Since he was an easy boy and an excellent temperament tester himself, I took him to NJ to check out a young female. My friend J, with whom we stayed, needed to make a late night trip to the grocery store. We loaded up and went for the ride.

As she stepped out of the car a group of young hoods swaggered out of the dark. "Hey, baby, come here, sweetie.' I got out of the car, too, and let Kuro slither around me. His head was down, his ears were flat, and his teeth were bared in a silent snarl.

I looked at this dog, whom I knew, but for an instant didn't recognized. He frightened me. Clearly I was not the only one taken aback. The group scattered, crying 'oh, shit man, it's a wolf!'

As soon as they were gone, he morphed back into my cheerful boy, ears up, tail curled, big proud smile on his face, and clearly saying 'hey! I did good! Where's my cookie?'

Kuro also defended me from inanimate objects. He rarely barked, but when he did, with his deep chest and huge lungs, it sounded like a cannon going off. He'd patrol his territory early every day. One foggy morning, he found a suspicious object in the garden. As he couldn't discern what it was through the fog, K started barking. When I went out to see, he refused to let me near the object of his attention. He kept barking and throwing himself between me and the unidentified It.

When I finally got him into the flower bed, he saw it was a large piece of cardboard (which I used for mulch and weed control). With crested neck, hackles raised, he stalked up, sniffed and then lifted his leg on it, before retiring to the porch to lie down. What a dog! ready to protect me from people AND cardboard!

Time after time The Big Guy proved himself to be an atypical Akita. Because of his round, bear-like face, people loved to get down at face level with him before I could warn them about not doing so. He would smile politely, and roll his eyes towards me, clearly saying 'man, this person is an idiot!' He never showed aggression or fear as people took this dominant position. Many times he'd give them a big raspy dog kiss.

I am grief stricken. Rest in peace, my beloved boy. Always loved. Always cherished. Always, always in my heart.

In memorandum

of all of those who have given their lives or limbs or sanity in service of our country. While no war is 'good,' the last war that had a just purpose was WWII, the 'Big One.' There were clear sides of good and evil. Good prevailed.

The conflicts in which the U.S. has since engaged have had murky purposes - stopping The Red Menace, fights for resources and territory. Iraq, for example: can you spell 'oil?' and Our Fearful Leader's (backed by his coterie of power-hungry self-serving megalomanics) effort to earn a place in history.

They've earned places in the books, all right - as the worst regime ("administration") in the country's history.

My sympathies to the families who have lost sons, mothers, fathers, daughters in the invasion of Iraq. Nothing can make up for those losses.

Sizzling Spring

It's not officially summer yet, however we're having July-like temperatures. 89 degrees today, 92 predicted for tomorrow. First lake swim tonight.... can't wait?

The Big Guy is suffering tremendously. His ability to regulate his body temperature is gone. He plants himself in front of an enormous retro-60's fan my sister gave him. He loves it!

I've also purchased the Cool Bed III, a cooling water bed. He's not too sure about it; he's so unstable in his hindquarters that the slight jiggle in the bed makes him a bit anxious.

Big Daddy Zydeco

Last night, G & I buzzed up to Webster to Harmony House. The event: Preston Frank
& Big Daddy Zydeco featuring Ed Poullard.

Harmony House is an old ballroom? Theater? Structure that was filled with happy zydeco dancers. The band played nearly two hours for the first set -- neither my partner nor I know the steps, and so just joined the throngs moving about the dance floor.

I assumed HH was a bar or dance club, but was pleasantly surprised to find the low key ambiance of the venue, rounded out by a dish to pass dinner.

NewPark

I've emailed this info to the owner of NewPark a couple of times - no response. I gather it fell short of the mark. Here it is! Photos to follow.



The phrases "defies description" and "labor of love" cannot begin to do justice to the amazing and spectacular work that transformed a funky, boring, highway motel into a showplace. Unique is too mild a word.

"I only have 7 rooms." So says Jamie Keogh, the creator of New Park.

Mr. Keogh's vision has resulted in a one-of-a-kind hostelry. NewPark is a marvel of detail, whimsy, charm, and elegance. Each building and every room is unique. One room has a fresco of hot air balloons. Another, used as a conference or meeting space, has a floor of tiny blue glass pieces, hand-placed into wire mesh. The shower for a third has a tiled wall, patterned with the Finger Lakes. Elements of European elegance meld with New World themes.

Each space has dozens, if not hundreds of details that catch your eye and imagination. The sensory feast that these provide are enticing, appealing, and exciting. You can stop and marvel at a dozen tiny elements, or relax and enjoy the marvel of the over-all effect. The spaces are enhanced by the peace and tranquility of the Park itself. Each room has a private courtyard or patio which open out to the Park. The bucolic setting of 65 acres, through which bike trails and hiking paths wind, connects with some of the best hiking areas in the Finger Lakes region.

The details and beauty of NewPark mesh and meld to make it an astonishing visual joy. As one guest said recently 'You can't describe it. You have to experience it.'

The Wish Room
Tranquility.
Relaxation.
Serenity.
The stillness of this room generates calmness in all who enter. With windows or glass doors on all sides, the outdoors is invited in on sunny days. On grey days, the warmth of the centrally located open stone fireplace makes the space a cozy place to curl up with a book or to enjoy a wine tasting session with friends.

This space lends itself to conferences or meetings, intimate parties or larger gatherings which spill out onto its patios and the surrounding lawns.

Look for details such as the beautiful blue floor, made of hand-placed glass. Another highlight is the Claddagh Ring, symbolic of the love, friendship and loyalty. The Wish Room fosters the meaning behind the ring: "Let love and friendship reign forever."


The Finger Lakes Chalet
The design and artistry of this area pays homage to the spectacular scenery of the Finger Lakes region and the Wine Trails of Cayuga and Seneca Lakes. Cozy, warm, charming, you'll want to snuggle up with a good book or relax at the end of a day exploring the gorges and trails of the region and NewPark itself.

Local artists collaborated to design the amazing stonework in the bathroom, which gives a bird's eye view of the lakes.

The Bunkhouse
Designed specifically to appeal to both the young and the young-at-heart, the Bunkhouse has loft areas with bunks for children and adults. Relax after a busy day in the private patio area, before playfully continuing the day's fun by climbing into a custom crafted bunk.

Be sure to admire the amazing carvings in the doors!

The Park House
You'll spend hours studying the details and designs of what we've nicknamed 'The Big House.' In the entry of the Park room, local artists have used stonework or carvings to honor our Native American heritage. In the main hall, you'll feel as if you've stepped back into the 40's with retro furniture and artwork. The Balloon Room had a fresco of the area's hot air balloons reaching up to the cathedral ceiling. Enjoy the use of the enormous steam room and then luxuriate in the oversized soaking tub!

The Keogh Room
Or is it the Key Hole Room? There is a key hole shaped doorway, after all! It's our word play with the family name of Jamie Keough, whose inspiration and dedication has transformed NewPark into a an inviting, intimate, relaxing setting where guests can enjoy the amenities of the Park and the surrounding area with a home-away-from-home as their base.

With a full kitchen, comfortable bedroom on one side of the key hole, and a room sporting mutliple round windows and Native American artwork on the other, this space lends itself to dinner or cocktail parties, or a simple weekend away from the stresses of real life!