Sunday, February 22
Bridget and I step outside each morning to soft light and beach glow at our Salton Sea camp.
The photo (above) was taken yesterday morning. This morning the Sea is a deeper shade of blue. The atmosphere has changed. During the night the wind picked up. I woke up and listened to the shooshing of waves, a gentle sound coming through the open windows.
The birds have moved further up the beach.
I zoom in on them. A squabble occurs when one gull tries to steal the breakfast of another. The egret chooses not to become involved.
I was going to break camp today.
Now that today is here, I don’t feel like moving. I love it here. It’s Sunday anyway. The weekend campers will be heading home and using the dump station at the Salton Sea Rec Area headquarters on their way out. I wouldn’t want to be in their way. At least that’s the excuse I’m using for staying another day.
Some days I have no ambition at all!
Several readers have commented that they have enjoyed this camp very much. If you would like to read about our first visit to the Salton Sea in November 2012, click on this link: “A new camp at the Salton Sea and “Spikey, you didn’t!'”.
That post includes photos of the Visitor Center and beach north of our present camp. The post after that one includes a slideshow with some of my favorite photos of the Salton Sea.
Breaking news!
A few minutes ago I took a break from writing this post in order to check the websites of local animal shelters again. You may not be aware that I have been searching for a new crew member. There have been disappointments.
Just now I came across a dog I’d like to meet who is currently at a shelter within reasonable driving distance from our camp and that shelter is open on Sundays!
I want to leave in a few minutes. I’ll update later today.
Okay. It’s later!
We didn’t get the dog. I’m sorry to disappoint. Here’s what happened.
This morning I see a dog at the Palm Springs Animal Shelter’s website. This dog looks perfect! He’s a Jack Russell terrier, one-and-a-half years old, sturdily built, small, photogenic, mostly white (with reddish-brown spots), and with cute button ears. His name is Dots.
Quickly I send my prepared message to the shelter which describes me and my qualifications. I have discovered that this standard email has a positive effect on shelter personnel.
Anyway . . .
Off Bridget and I go to Palm Springs.
It’s not an easy, quick drive from here. I have to stop for gas and then, in Indio, we become tangled in traffic for the Riverside County Fair which must be a big event around here, given the hordes of people streaming toward the entrance and loud music.
We arrive at the shelter about one hour after it opened.
As one would expect in Palm Springs, it’s a very nice facility.
I’m greeted courteously upon entering. I state that I’d like to look at Dots, the terrier. I’m told that Dots has accumulated a waiting list in the past hour. My heart sinks. The man sees my disappointment and very earnestly offers encouragement.
“The people on the list are in the Counseling Room right now. We don’t always choose the first person on the list. In other words, we choose the best applicant — the best fit — for the dog.”
“I’d like to see Dots first, if I may.”
“Sure! And you know? We’re having a special today. Dogs are only $10 to adopt and that includes shots, spay/neuter, and . . . ” (I’m not sure but I think he said micro-chipped, too. Quite a deal! Which explains the rush of adopters today.)
We enter a room with several pens, each holding one or two dogs.
Most of the dogs are barking. Dots is in a pen with another terrier, a bigger, wire-haired type. I’m led outside to the courtyard and Dots is placed in my arms. Gee, he’s a lot smaller than I expected. Mild mannered. Bright eyes. Healthy coat. He responds to my talk. Okay, so far, so good.
I place him on the ground to look him over.
He walks around sniffing the ground. Oh no! That’s a deal-breaker! I definitely do not want to adopt Dots.
He has the long body of a dachshund and his back is curved upward at midsection. He may be okay for a few years, but that back is going to give him problems. Oh, well. He will find a home for sure. Not with us though.
(I don’t take any photos of him because he keeps turning away and I don’t want to make him any more nervous than he already is.)
As Dots is returned to his pen, I take another look at the wire-haired terrier.
His name is Oscar.
Oscar has a lot going for him. He’s young, good-looking, and isn’t acting like a maniac. I’m not sure about him though so I don’t ask him to be let out into the courtyard.
I’m escorted out of the room which has a door that is kept locked for added security. I let the staff know that I’m no longer interested in Dots.
I wander back for another look at Oscar.
I take a few photos of him through the interior window glass by the door. Here he is again. That’s Dots in the background.
Oscar is a wonderful, young dog.
Several years ago I had a dog similar to him and that dog was great. However, I can tell I’m forcing myself to choose him because I don’t want to leave the shelter empty-handed.
I try to imagine him with Bridget and living with us in the BLT. He’s too big. Try as I might, I can’t make him any smaller. He’s just too big.
The sign on his cage says Oscar is a stray and cannot be adopted until two days from now.
He’s being held for the usual period of time in order to give his owners time to claim him. I walk up the hall, go past the cat house, and out the door.
Poor Bridget has been waiting out in the PTV. Darn. Another disappointment. Oh well, I tried. We’ll find him someday.
rvsue
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