John Platt -- Rudy the Dog
John Platt -- Rudy the Dog


I have put up with a lot from the Old Man, but this time he really did it and the Old Lady is in on it too. We’re moving! The Old People are selling my house and backyard.

It is completely little two-year-old Lena’s fault. The Old People gush all over her. Now I have to work to get the proper attention I deserve. Fortunately, a firm cold noise poke still gets results.

The problem is the little one lives in Tacoma, and it is a LONGGGGG DRIVE. We have been spending a lot of time up there and finally the old ones made this bad decision. I didn’t even get a vote.

Up until now I suffered Lena silently as she needs lots of walks and that gets the Old Man up in the morning. However, laughing and chasing me is completely undignified. I no sooner find a comfortable spot and she is trying to hug me. Now I am trapped for the long term.

It is so hard to say goodbye to my parks, shady Franklin, wide open Jean Sweeney with rabbits and lizards, Littlejohn where squirrels abound, the path by the ferries where I get to hear the swimming dogs bark. No more chance to roll in dead fish on the Bay Farm trail. My heart is breaking.

My tail droops when I think of no more long hikes to the Farmer’s Market; to sit by my parking meter with my water bowl and the pets I get from neighbors walking by; plus, the treats the Old Man brings for me. Our friend Greg has disappeared. I miss sitting on his porch watching the shoppers parade by while he and the Old Man blab on the state of the world.

Destinations, Alameda is all about destinations. One of the good things about my Old So and So is he is always up for a stroll with a goal in mind, which at some point or another usually involves food. Heading down to Webster Street, sitting outside at the Wescafé or the 1400 where the Old Man sneaks wonderful sandwiches full of the forbidden fruit, bacon. And yes, my good old boy does share his prize with me, now that is a snack! Yani at the 1400 always greets us and makes me feel right at home with a big old water bowl. Sometimes we hang outside Peete’s in a shady spot sharing a pastry and then a meander home through Sweeney Park. Is anything in life better than that?

I am not sure how I will get on without my dog pals Chili, the jacked-up Jack Russell; Bitsy, the old round three-legged chihuahua; Goofy white Leo, the German Shephard; and his compadre, blind George, the unfazed old chocolate Lab. Big white Jake, who left us for dog heaven, I have missed for a while, running and barking with him along his stone wall.

One thing I won’t miss are the wild turkeys. They look at me with complete disdain with their beady eyes while they graze and mess up people’s lawns. No rules for nasty birds, Grrrrr.….

No more advising the Kiwanians as they pick weeds in Jean Sweeney Park. How can you replace hanging out under the table at the Alameda Island Brewery picking up dropped food as the old fogies of Alameda Old Men United grumble while they scarf down their beer? (Best friend Brian never forgets me and brings the best treats!) Alameda’s slow speed limit makes it perfect for hanging your head out the window and feeling the wind in your ears. Plus, now the blocked slow streets, especially my favorite Pacific, allow me and the Old Man to amble and visit with our neighbors.

At least there is still one more Rudy in town. Rudy at El Caballo, his staff and wonderful treats will still be in town to hold up our name while I am gone.

The Old Man is trying to make it up to me with walks through forests. Lots of friendly labs and slow squirrels in Tacoma do help to improve one’s step, but our friendly neighbors in Alameda will be impossible to replace.

So be kind to one another Alameda. You are a shining star. We will visit, but it will not be the same. Keep on exploring.

Transcribed by Rudy’s Old Man John Platt.