new ink, notepads
returning to scribbling
new story awaits
—JD, notes haiku #3

A Puppy’s Trust

Obtaining a puppy’s trust is everything, but earning it takes time and intention. Trust cannot be commanded.

Even at seven months old and 40 pounds, there are still so many firsts for Opal to navigate. Some firsts are met with caution. Like the large pinwheels spinning madly in a neighbor’s yard. Opal froze, watching and assessing them.

Mostly, we give Opal time to look and think before asking her to walk on. Occasionally, we retreat and take another route. We want her to learn we won’t put her in danger. That she can trust us to keep her safe.

There’s also the ongoing work. Learning how to do things and getting her to trust us in that, too.

It was super hard teaching Opal to climb in and out of the car. Getting out of the car was easy once she started doggie daycare. She loves it so much she rushes to climb out. After all, there are a lot of doggie butts awaiting a hello.

Getting into the car was completely different. We tried everything. Treats. Toys. Playing games in the car without going anywhere. A step stool. Driving to fun places. A motion sensor light to make sure she could see the car floor. A plush toy to model how to climb in.

Nada.

Even though I can lift a 40 pound puppy, that’s not a sustainable method to get my dog into the car. Right?

We re-evaluated our treats and cooked ground turkey into tiny patties. I put a stool in front of the backseat, turned on the floor light, and tossed some turkey onto the floor. She stretched her long body over the stool and ate the treat. I tossed the next piece of turkey farther. Eventually, she put her back legs onto the stool and climbed in. Finally, she didn't need the stool. We practiced this method for a few minutes over two days. By the third day, she jumped in without the need for a treat.

All along, of course, she received tons of high praise for her bravery and mastery. What a relief, ay? She’s still eagerly climbing in without a treat. She might even be proud of herself.

Even I learned something about the power of (as dog trainers say) a high-value treat. It doesn’t create trust, but encourages learning, creating positive associations which leads to trust. It’s a process. Progress not perfection!

New Mexico - Trusting Intuition

Last February marked the seventh anniversary of our move to New Mexico. After my wife’s parents passed away in Kentucky, we spent a long time searching for a new place to live. A lot of places looked good on paper, but in reality, none improved upon our home in Louisville which had music, museums, horses, an airport, great pizza, and greenery galore. Along with ice storms, blizzards, and thick summer humidity. Eventually we quit looking, telling ourselves if the right place existed it would announce itself.

And so it did. Eight years ago, we visited New Mexico. I wanted to attend the outdoor Santa Fe Opera, and my wife wanted to visit Roswell, the site of the 1947 alien ship crash landing. We did both those things and more. (Those experiences deserve more space in the future.)

I had fallen for New Mexico’s red rock and green chili fifty years ago, and that love was renewed during our vacation. But I said nothing to my spouse. I didn’t want her to feel bad about not wanting to live west of the Mississippi. To my surprise, ten days after we returned home, my wife turned to me and said, “New Mexico sang to me.”

That’s our code for “Stop. Listen. Let’s do this.”

The thing is, we trust the singing.

On the 11th day we began packing up our home. Soon, we found a realtor in Santa Fe, and six months later we moved from Louisville with our Lab, Walker-girl. We left behind a 3-story house with a basement, tornados, blizzards and great pizza for the wide-open blue sky, a delightful one-story house, mountains, museums, music, red dirt, lizards, piñon trees, a tiny airport, and good people. My wife makes an incredible cornmeal crust pizza.

Writing - Trusting the Process

Last month, I brought home a stack of thrillers and mysteries from the library. In one book, I found a note stuck inside at the title page.

Transcription of the note w/no grammatical corrections:

This gives me hope that I could still write a novel & get it published. Apparently, as evidenced from this book a book—& its characters—don’t have to be any good

While I empathized with the reader that it’s distressing to find a crummy novel has made it through the competitive publishing noise, I also know that persistence sometimes wins over talent (the not so good gets published over the good). Publishers may have other reasons, too, that have nothing to do with talent, but with market placement and what will sell.

I strongly believe that bitterness about others success is a dead end. Anger and bitterness only corrupt the creative soul.

Also, I’m keenly aware a writer’s first novel doesn’t always get published. (fingers crossed.)

If you’re a writer or some other kind of creative soul, you keep on. Creation is what we do. We show up, do the work, and put it out for others to read or see. Sometimes it lands, sometimes it doesn’t.

I trust the work. I trust the people who receive the work to be professional about it. It’s hard sometimes and, like Opal, I have to sit back and assess, but most days I trust the process that carries the work into the world.

Novels set in New Mexico I liked

• Exposure, by Ramona Emerson

• Blood Mountain, by Alisa Lynn Valdes

• Havoc, by Deborah J. Ledford

Stay caring and curious, friends. See you anon.—JD

Currently

• Drinking: Jade Buddha Da Hong Pao Rock Oolong

• Using: Montegrappa Chile Pepper inked with Sailor Seiboku.

• Reading: Slow Horses, by Mick Herron

• Sharing (old-nerd-friend alert): The Old Internet is Still Here blog post by Tyler Gaw, March 26, 2026