nakedjen

MALCOM IS MISSING!

Malcolm stolen from car in Denver, Colorado

April 29, 2009

HELP!
 
Michael Davis, lost his Airedale Malcolm near University and Asbury at around 5:30 pm on 4-29-2009.

He is beside himself that his beloved Malcolm is missing. Please alert everyone you know and anyone in that area to look for Malcolm.

Malcolm is wearing a black collar with yellow bones on it. He is micro chipped. Also, call or send him any ideas you may have to locate this Airedale...we need to get this boy back!

Michael lives in Lakewood, Colorado, so Malcolm could be headed in that direction.

Reply to Michael at: fugueman@hotmail.co.uk This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it
Or call him at: 303-619-9551

Sadly, this is becoming all too common.  I've got a special website in the works to help with these very special lost and missing companion animals.  They're far too precious to go missing, as we all know.  And I believe we must band together to keep all of them, each and every one, safe and sound.

Since we're talking about missing dogs, we are still looking for Haley.  I am still convinced that she's out there, that someone has her, that they're unaware that she has a forever home that misses her terribly.



Call me if you have any information about Haley.  Or Malcolm.  I'll gladly help reunite either dog with their owners.

---

GOOD NEWS!!  Malcolm has been found.  He's been reunited with his owners and this story of the stolen missing dog has a happy ending.

Now if we can also have a very happy ending for Haley and her owner in San Luis Obispo, well that would be a wonderful fabulous thing.

It's The Happy

I learned a lot on my recent visit to Santa Cruz.  A lot about myself.

First and foremost, I must share that I am not going to move back to Santa Cruz anytime soon.  It is not because I do not love Santa Cruz.  I love Santa Cruz with every fiber of my soul and being.  I am a Santa Cruz girl who now lives in Salt Lake City.  I think that is the best way to describe it. 

While I was there this time the Universe presented me with two separate housing opportunities that would have been doable for both me and the dogs.  Two!  However, neither one of them really felt right when I stopped long enough to allow myself to consider what it would be like to actually live there, to be there, to thrive there.

It's the thriving part that felt like it might be difficult. 

I've changed.  While Santa Cruz still thrives some where deep inside of me and it always will the last 15 months of self-imposed exile in the mountains of Utah have changed me.  I think, honestly, for the better. 

I am more grounded. I am more careful about making long term decisions.  I am willing to consider all the options presented and to consider everyone and not just me.  That last one?  That one is huge.  In other words, I'm not so damn selfish. 

Yes, it would have been really easy to snatch up one of those houses and say, "Hooray!  I'm coming home!"  But honestly at what price? 

I know I complain a lot about the weather in Utah.  But what I rarely talk about (and really should share more about) is how I have carved out a really good life for myself here in Salt Lake City. 

I have friends here who really do love me.  Love me.  More importantly, they loved me through the last year that was one of the most very difficult of my entire life.  I'm not discounting the love that flowed from those who also love me in Santa Cruz (you people rule!!) but my new friends in Salt Lake embraced me and loved me when I had very little to offer back other than a weak smile, the occasional vegan meal, a thoughtful conversation while walking my dogs.

I have also been embraced and welcomed into the film community here.  I tried for years and years (YEARS!) to be work with the film community in Santa Cruz and was frustrated to no end.  They consistently rejected me.  I wish I was joking about this, but it was just the way it was.  And it is a testament to my own insanity that I just kept trying over and over and over again expecting a different outcome. 

However, the good folks at Sundance and the Salt Lake Film Center have all welcomed me with open arms and appreciate my energy and my quirky "California" ways.  They like that I'm different.  They enjoy having me on board.  It feels good to be able to contribute and know that I'm truly making a difference in the world of Independent Film.  I mean this.

Plus, well, there's the relationships I've forged with the organic farmers here.  I had long and beautiful relationships with many farmers in Santa Cruz (and I still do) and I'm excited that I've managed to befriend some really amazing farmers here, too.  I can't wait for the farmers market to kick off in June.  Yes, we have a shorter growing season here and the market isn't all year long (with the exception of my dear sweet Chad who has been providing me with fabulous organic vegetables ALL WINTER LONG...can you believe that???) but our farmers market during the summer months is a destination I never miss on any Saturday and it makes me so happy! 

It's the happy.  I am happy here.  It's not that I can not be happy in Santa Cruz.  We all know it is a given that I can be happy in Santa Cruz.  But Santa Cruz for me, right now, also still holds some very powerful cellular-level memories that have yet to be exorcised.  It took everything I had not to call or contact DearSweetDave while I was visiting Santa Cruz over the past ten days.  Everything. 

It shouldn't be that difficult, I know.  I get it.  However, I was driving the streets where we lived.  I was bombarded by memories, sweet memories, every where I turned.  I do realize that the only way to get past all of that is to create new memories that do not include him, memories that are solely mine, memories that belong just to me. 

I did my best to avoid any conversations that might include mention of his name.  I didn't seek out information about him.  I purposely did not drive down the street where he lives or see any friends that we have absolutely "in common".  Still, I was haunted by him the entire time I was there.  And it was fucking difficult. 

I also recognize that this is my problem to sort out.  Santa Cruz is bigger and better than the both of us and my memories of "us" that haunt me while I'm there will certainly fade the more time passes, the longer I live just as me, Jen, a woman alone with her dogs.

Salt Lake City will be my home.  It isn't perfect.  But I am not perfect, either.  All the imperfections that both the city and I embody fit comfortably.   At least for now.

ISO A Three Year Old Boy

I am in search of and in need of one fearless three year old boy.  Turns out a small human of the three year old boy variety is the very BEST play toy ever for Buddha and Stella.  Should the three year old boy come with a single father who is also fond of dogs, the Sunday New York Times, lattes and independent film that would not be a horrible thing.  No, not at all. 

Three year old boys (and their single stable film-loving dads) who love big black furry animated dogs are more than welcome to contact me for a butt-smelling meet and greet with Buddha and Stella that will most certainly also include a rousing cleaning of all leftover juice and snack crumbs from the face. (The boy's, I am suspecting, not the dogs' but if the boy needs to lick the dogs that's totally okay!).  It should also be known that Stella is quite adept at potty training and that Buddha is quite specialized at teaching mad reading skills.  This is a win-win for everyone.

We're looking forward to hearing from you.  Soon!

B is for Beets

My friend, Tom Robbins, has a new book that has just come out that claims that B is for Beer.  Tom Robbins.  B is for Beer.  I most certainly know that B is for Beer as I am the child whose own grandmother sent her to the package store when she was nine with a note that said, "Please allow Jennifer to purchase one case of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer" and then I swear to God that the proprietor sent me marching home over the railroad track bridge to my house with that exact case of beer.  The case of beer that made up my grandmother's daily constitution. 

Yes, I know.  B is for Beer.

But I am still surprised, shocked even, that Tom Robbins didn't actually perhaps write a book for children called B is for Beets?  I think we all know that having children discover the joys of beer is not going to be difficult.  But having children discover the wonders of beets?  Now, well, that's a whole other rooty matter.

In defense of beets (because I know there are those of you out there who are just going EWWWW) I will offer this:

Beets lower high blood pressure.  Naturally.
Beets also lower your cholesterol.  Naturally.
Beets are a rich source of Vitamin B.  Naturally.
Beets promote detoxification of the liver, intestines and your blood.  Naturally.
Beets may even help prevent against certain cancers.  Naturally.
Beets have a high level of folate and are a great food for pregnancy.  Naturally.
Beets help in staving off osteoporois.  Naturally.
Beets relieve constipation.  Naturally.

Eat your beets.  Raw, roasted, in juice.

In other news, those of you who have been paying attention may have noticed that the dogs and I are in Santa Cruz.  It's true.  We are.  My own heart and head have been having a bit of a difficult time on this trip, I will admit. 

I love and am well loved here.  I know this.  But I need to share that I love and am well loved in Salt Lake, too.  I believe, actually, that perhaps that learning this is the wake up call I really needed.  That last week of snow storms in Salt Lake really pushed me over the edge.  Walking at 5:00 a.m. with the dogs while being blinded by snow in April is not a life I want to live. 

The good news is that no one, but me, is in charge here.  No one, but me, is saying YOU MUST live that life.  I can put the dogs in the car and go where the climate suits my clothes.  Where the chilly winds don't blow.  Where the water tastes like wine.

I am truly free to be my most authentic me.  Honestly, I think this is the best time of my life. 

Because She Is My Mother

It's NakedMom's aka Emily Gilmore's birthday today.  Without NakedMom, well, we all know that there really wouldn't be a Nakedjen.  I'm not necessarily saying she gets ALL the props for me being who I am, but she did, you know, birth me.

I figured she'd like some Naked Swedish Men for her birthday.  But she'd also really love a flood of birthday wishes from total strangers.  In fact, I know that she would.  So go ahead, if you're feeling generous, and send her a birthday greeting.

Happy Birthday, Mom.  As it is Friday, I hope you spend at least part of it really naked!

The Object of His Affections

I think that Buddha may actually love Darby more than he loves me. 

When we were leaving for Santa Cruz last week, the only way I could coax him into the car that was obviously loaded with provisions for a long journey (a journey Buddha was not at all about to take) was by telling him we were going to see Darby.  The mention of HER name got him to jump right into the back of the car.

I suppose I can't blame him.  Look at her.  She's as yummy as an ice cream sundae with a luscious cherry on top.  I'm certain Buddha thinks so.

Buddha and Darby have been head over tails in love with one another since Buddha's big clunky puppy feet first hit the dog beach in Santa Cruz.  He adores her.  She's much faster than he is and will usually catch whatever ball has been thrown long before he lumbers up beside her but he will then follow her faithfully up and down and all around until she finally is willing to drop it so that he can do his proper retriever duties and bring the ball back.

They will do this for hours if we let them.  It's a match made in dog heaven.  I adore Darby's mom and it was with her that I completed the long, arduous San Francisco marathon last year.  She was my partner in crime, my source of inspiration, my support when I was certain that my two feet could not go another inch.  She was my Darby.  Carrying the ball just beyond reach and coaxing me along and reminding me that a sexy fireman wearing a tuxedo was waiting for me with a little blue box from Tiffany's if I would just take one.more.step.

Yesterday, of course, Darby and Buddha had a reunion.  The presence of Stella did not dampen the joyous occasion at all and we made plans to make sure they had another date before the dogs and I had back to Utah (yes, Utah, I promise I am coming back!).  In a moment that would make the Dog Whisperer so very proud, I got all three dogs to actually sit still for a photo opportunity!

Good dogs.  Really, good dogs.

Planted On The Earth

it's earth day. go hug a tree.

or sit in a river and appreciate its amazing life source and beauty.

or be like stella and romp in the waves with the pelicans.

we've only got one planet that provides us with all that we need to thrive. and while some of us choose to celebrate it every day, today is a day when all of us can take just a few moments to remember just how important this planet is to each of us. and to perhaps pledge to make the difference so our children will be able to thrive on this planet, too.

and, yes, we are spending earth day in santa cruz (if you couldn't tell).  i will share that salt lake city is actually pretty damn progressive and forward thinking and full of people who truly appreciate the planet and are stewards of this earth.  i will also share that i was really surprised to learn this, but am very grateful to know it and to share that city and the sate of utah with all of them.

this has been one of the most interesting journeys back to santa cruz for me yet.  i do feel slightly schizophrenic.  torn, really.  i want to fall down and kiss the ground here, but that overwhelming emotion, that flutter in my heart of being "home" is just not there.  and i'm worried that for the moment i'm a woman adrift. 

so i spent yesterday hugging my trees.  yes, i do consider them my trees.  i know they're your trees, too.  i am all about sharing the trees.  the dogs played in the river and i stood in awe (as i always do) of their majesty and hugged them, thanked them, and reminded myself that my home is truly wherever my two feet are currently planted on this earth. 

My Year Of Nothing New - The Spring Report

Though there is currently snow, yes snow, falling from the sky outside my windows, I am determined that it is really Spring.  I am.  So determined that I'm sitting here wearing nothing at all.  Because it is also Friday.  Fridays are meant to be naked.  Actually, we know that every day is meant to be at least a little bit naked.  If it is not just a little bit naked, well, it probably wasn't your best lived day.  At least not for me.

Besides giving up sugar for 2009, I also decided that this would be the year of nothing new.  No new purchases for 2009.  Other than necessities like groceries and toilet paper (and is that really a necessity?) I decided while quietly ringing in the New Year this year that it would be my year of real gratitude.  Of appreciating all that I already have in my life and celebrating the fact that I am really already blessed with so very much.

So what I've learned about myself thus far in this process is that I am a thrill shopper.  Meaning that I will purchase things just for the thrill of the purchase rather than with any real long contemplation about whether or not I actually NEED the item.  This is especially true for shoes.  We've discussed my shoes before.  How I have trunks of shoes, literally, and I am not a centipede.  I only have two feet.  Currently, there is an entire trunk of shoes in my tea studio that has not been unlocked since I moved from Santa Cruz over a year ago.  An entire trunk!  I know it contains shoes I believe that I absolutely can not live without, but I have obviously been able to live without them for over 12 months. 

I find myself with free time surfing shoe sites.  I also find myself surfing Etsy.  Oh Etsy.  How you torture me.  The exquisite things I find there.  Things I want to snatch right up.  Things I want to have shipped right to my house.  Things! Things! Things!

It's a sickness.  Certainly it is part of my own mania.  And this year of no new things is at the same time eye-opening, mind expanding and a tad masochistic.  I will share, though, that I am saving money.  I know that our President and our Government want me to spend my Obama Dollars, but honestly, I like knowing that I can resist the temptation.

I also like knowing that I can manifest things if I truly truly want them.  It's been good practice.  It has also humbled me and has provided me with that many more reasons to express gratitude. 

Gratitude is good.  It is very good.

My year of nothing new is shaping up to be a very lovely journey.

Festival People

I am a festival person.  If you are a festival person, too, you already know what I'm talking about, but if you're not, well, then I'm a little bit sad for you.  It's no secret how I feel about film festivals.  Or that I will absolutely gladly attend the Fringe Festival without hesitation.  And that the Fair, well, the Fair is the festival that is perhaps the most sacred and dear to my heart of all. 

I believe, perhaps, that in previous incarnations I was a traveler, a gypsy, a girl bound to the festival life.  I may have been a performer, but am thinking that more likely I was the one organizing everything and making the event truly festive.  I'm good at that.  The festive part.  I one of the people that puts the festive in festival.

There's a festival that I've yet to attend (but just may attend this year!) called the Glastonbury Festival.  Perhaps you've heard of it?  I'm sure most of you have.  It's legendary.  And it surprises me, actually, that I've never gone.  Especially since I've spent all that time actually living in England and trying to convince those good people of the United Kingdom that I was one of their own.

I obviously did not do a very good job in the convincing department since I'm living in exile in Utah.  However, there are plans underway for me to pack up the dogs and head home.  There are other plans underway that will have me dancing front and center at Glastonbury, as well. 

Tonight I went to see a very rudimentary documentary about Glastonbury that was screening here in Salt Lake.  When the credits started to roll at the start of the film, I was disappointed to see that it had not been funded by good friends at the UK Film Council, but by the end of the more than two hours of what wasn't much more than home movies, I was quite glad to know that it was not funded by the UK Film Council.  It was funded by the BBC and I'm wondering just what funding was provided?  

The film is a historical look at Glastonbury.  The festival spans a 30 year period at this point so that's a lot of ground to cover.  However, the documentarian forgot that a good documentary still has a story arc and doesn't just show us a conglomeration of home video shot by all the folks who've attended the festival over the years.  A good documentary gives us a reason to care.  I kept wanting to care, but soon realized that I was going to have far more fun searching for the people that I actually knew in the film.

The surprise?

I knew way more people than one might surmise given that I'm the American festival girl and this is a festival in England that I've never attended.  It is, however, a music festival.  Of the largest and most awe-inspiring proportions.  130,000 people attended last year!   And we must also remember that I am that girl among us who followed the Grateful Dead around until they told me I had to pack up my bags, grow up and actually get a real job.  Or in other words, until our dear sweet Jerry departed.

I couldn't believe how many folks in those home movies I actually really did know.  Oh what joy it gave me to see them in all their naked hippie glory there on the screen.  I had not seen a lot of these folks since I hung up my own tie dyes.  Nearly 15 years.  But there they were.  It was like a reunion, only not.  But sort of.  My heart definitely did a little flip and pitter patter of happiness. 

These are my people.  Festival people.  I can't wait to embrace them, to dance with them, and to tell them exactly how very much they make me who I am.

The Bond A Woman Has With Her Dog

Kind amazing Nakedjen readers (all of you):  I have a very important message for all of you and I need your generous help.  Please.

 

Haley is the loving dog companion of Deby.  As you can see, she's a beautiful dog and it is really important that we all come together to help bring her home.

Deby found my blog and sent me the following email:

Hello

I see you wrote your missing dog blog in 2005 and are probably over the grief and maybe even have a new companion dog.

I’m assuming your dog died?

Well, mine was let out of our fenced back yard by workers and she is 10 and she is deaf and it has been 3 months and she has not made it home and all I do is sob – and pretend to cope in public and in private.

I cannot find anything on the web on how to cope with a lost dog – meaning a missing dog – as opposed to a dog who has died, which strange as it sounds, would be a blessing right now.

I could write a book on everything I’ve done to find my dog – the local paper even did an article about me because NO ONE had ever gone to the lengths I did to find her.   I made forty 2 foot x 3 foot neon posters and posted them to create a safe perimeter, I hired a helicopter pilot to look for her, I handed out thousands of the attached flyer and did about 123 other things – but no Haley.

Even the pet detective I spoke with was perplexed on where she is. 

If you’ve come across anyone who’s pet went missing, but never come back (Lassie does not always come home), I would really appreciate it if you could point me to them for grief support.  If you know of any written material, that would be great too.  I’ve looked at about 20,000 Amazon titles about “lost pets,” “missing pets,” “missing dog,” “lost dog,” etc – and there’s nothing out there that covers the emotional pain I am going through.

I can’t even find a book on dealing with a missing child or a missing in action soldier, which must feel the same as this terrible pain.

You see – I too am really missing my dog, but it’s 100 times worse because my dog is out there alive somewhere really missing me.

I just KNOW that this dog is still out there.  I also know that together, using our vast social networking capabilities, we can help to truly bring her home. 

To answer some questions, Haley is microchipped.  She was wearing her red collar at the time she was lost and it had tags.  Her owner, Deby, checks PetHarbor daily and is heartbroken over the sheer numbers of lost dogs that she finds listed there every day.  But so far, no Haley. 

One thing everyone should really know is that if you find a lost dog do not hesitate to call the shelter or to even take the dog there.  So many people do not do this because they believe the dog will be euthanized.   But that is a last resort, and it is always best to at least check for a microchip and the shelter will at least take all your information so the owner can be reunited with the dog even if you do choose to keep the dog at your house rather than surrender it. 

I know I have many dog lovers who read this blog.  I know any one of you would be completely devastated if your dog was lost or missing. 

Let's all help bring Haley home.  Please repost and rebroadcast this information anywhere you feel appropriate.  And if you have extra "dog divining" thoughts and ideas, please do not hesitate to contact me.  I'm all ears and willing to do it. 

I am, as we know, in service to all dogs.  Not just the ones who are hogging up my own bed.

Buddha, Stella and I all thank you for your help.  Most importantly, though, I know Haley thanks you.  Because I know she just wants to go home.