Papa Bear is not small, no. He's rather like a living giant stuffed animal. A lumbering, gentle beast with brief bursts of enthusiasm. We have suddenly run into another kind of prejudice: big dog prejudice.
My wonderful original California bungalow is very simple, built in the '20's and the last round of modernization was in the '50's; certainly not grand. It's been cozy with its small fenced back yard, perfect for Papa Bear and me. It's a leased house that we've been in for four years and everything just fits, especially Papa Bear as it turns out. I thought it would last forever but it cannot. The owners need to sell it and while I am trying to conjure gobs of money to buy it, it isn't likely. It's true that house prices are still depressed even by the beach, but there's only a handful to lease. These houses have become very rare with costs going up as much in percentages as houses for sale have come down. I've spent the last week looking and am dismayed and shocked. It's a kind of grieving period and I haven't accomplished very much and completely ignored blogging.
There were several bungalows in Venice that included a qualifier about pets such as "under 25 pounds." Papa Bear is not in that category although he is of a far more glamorous variety than most smaller dogs. Strange how the debate over curvier models being on magazine covers and walking for designers has invaded my life.
Big dogs are beautiful too.