Woe, no mo’. Zozobra!

Hi everybody! Daisy Jones-Klein here again. And to start off, I’ve got a short quiz for you, Now, answer these questions truthfully:

• Do you ever feel anxious for more than a day?
• Ever have trouble sleeping?
• Ever get so busy thinking about what you gotta do next that you forget what you're supposed to be doing now?
• Got money woes?
• Ever feel stressed from trying to do too much, too fast?

Well, if you answered “yes” to two or more of these questions, then I’ve got some bad news to break to ya’: You’re probably a Peep. Sorry, Dude. It happens.

Us dogs and other quadruped critters generally don’t fret about the sorts of things you Peeps seem to obsess over. Sure, we’ve got stuff to keep us wary, like not getting eaten by a coyote, or going to the vet, or getting tricked into taking a bath. But that’s just street-smart living, and certainly no reason to forgo a good bellyrub, or the insouciance of a warm nap in the sunshine, or the simple joie de vivre of chasing a favorite squeaky toy. But you Peeps … you really do seem to have trouble letting go of your woes and living in the moment. Not every song has to be the Blues.

I’m not trying to blame you Peeps for these shortcomings. I understand that you probably can’t help yourselves. After all, being a Peep is a hereditary condition, something you’re born with. If your birth parents were Peeps, chances are you’re one, too. It’s a chronic condition, likely to last a lifetime. And there’s no known cure; the best you can hope for is accommodation and adaptation. Again, I’m really so sorry, Dude.

But here in Santa Fe, The City Different as it’s often called, Peeps have developed a tradition to help them cope with their troubles. It’s called Zozobra, and it started all the way back in 1924. It’s a part of the Fiesta de Santa Fe, a New Mexico tradition that goes even further back, all the way to 1712. In dog-years, that’s like two millennia!

So what, or who, is Zozobra? He’s Old Man Gloom, a 50-foot marionette that flails, moans, and groans. Over the years he’s gotten bigger, as have the crowds that come to see him. 

In the weeks leading up to Zozobra’s big day, Peeps can bring him their woes. All kinds of symbols of bad luck make their way to him – overdue bills, Dear John letters, sad poems, pink slips, and even the occasional wedding dress no longer memorable. These are all shredded and stuffed inside Zozobra as Old Man Gloom takes form.

On the Big Day, Zozobra is brought out to Fort Marcy Park and stood up to his full height of despair and gloominess:

Tens of thousands of Peeps come out to the park to picnic, to listen to the music, and to watch Zozobra standing tall and evil, flailing his arms, moving his head, and letting rip the occasional gloomy moan.

And when the sun’s finally set and the music has stopped, it’s just Zozobra, still standing tall and flailing against an ever-darkening sky. The crowd is getting restless, and begins to chant “Burn him! Burn him! Burn him!” This goes on and on, while Zozobra gets ever more agitated and flailing and moaning. 

But his protestations are to no avail, and the crowd keeps on chanting “Burn him! Burn him! Burn him!”

And so they do:

The flames climb up and up, burning Old Man Gloom and all the troubles stuffed inside. And as his head bursts into flames and Zozobra collapses into his own ash heap, fireworks light up the sky. Old Man Gloom is gone, lost in his fiery demise, taking with him all our troubles for another whole year.

It’s quite a fine tradition for Santa Feans. It's sorta like having a karmic cleansing, Yom Kippur atonement, Dorothy and Toto stepping into Oz after the twister, having your very own Ghostbusters Proton Pack, an Airing of Grievances at Festivus, a city-wide exorcism, rainbows after a thunderstorm, a Monopoly get-out-of-jail-free card, a tune-up for your chakras, and a pardon from the Governor, all rolled into one. How cool is that! 

Or, you could try being a bit more like us dogs. That usually works, too.

Daisy Jones-Klein

Santa Fe, NM

September 2013

Daisy goes to Summer Camp!

Hi everybody! Daisy Jones-Klein here. Can you believe that the summer is practically over? Seems like the time just flew by.

But before the Internet’s “favorite dogblogger” tells y’all about How I Spent My Summer Vacation, I have some sad news to report. Those of us in the Canine-American Community mourn the loss of three of our finest. Let’s raise a toast to Bailey in McLean VA, Madison in Deer Canyon Preserve NM, and Indy in Colonial Beach VA. Three of our finest critters, devoted to bringing joy to their families. They shared their insights on living fully in the present, loyalty to their pack, and non-judgment, and in doing so they brought a bit more humanity to their Peeps. They will be missed; may their memory be a blessing.

But now back to Me! You might think I have a pretty full life here, what with all the walks, bunny chasing, napping, snacking, barking, and snuggling. I know I sure thought so. But my Peeps thought I deserved even more, so they sent me to Doggie Camp. Twice! They told me all about Camp Barkaway, and how it’s a place where me and the other dogs could spend all day barking our brains out, and never get shushed even once! How cool is that? Here’s a picture of Mom at the entrance to Camp Barkaway:

“But Daisy,” you might ask. “Don’t you feel just a little guilty having so much fun at Camp Barkaway while your Peeps sit around moping at home?” Good question! I didn’t want my Peeps to feel cooped up and resentful while I had all the fun, so I encouraged them to get out and about, and do something a little different. So they did! And they sent me postcards and pictures, and told me about their adventures traveling around the West.

During my first session at Camp Barkaway, they spent the weekend with friends in a place south of Mountainair, NM, nearly smack in the middle of this beautiful state that's now home. The area is called Deer Canyon Preserve, over 12,000 acres of high desert hills and mesas, and views of mountain ranges in every direction. It's mostly shared by a couple of hundred owners, and it’s got deer and coyotes and longhorn cattle and horses, and zillions of hummingbirds. With only 40-50 homes there so far, there’s lots of space for hiking, riding, and just hanging out. Or, people can borrow from an old Spanish proverb “How sweet it is to do nothing all day long. And after having done so, to rest.” True dat! And they sent back these pictures:

My second session at Camp Barkaway was even longer, a whole week! My Peeps must really like me a lot to let me go again. And this time while I was at camp, they went on a jaunt with their friends Capt. Jack and Karen C., first to the Grand Tetons and then to Glacier National Park. Here's what they told me. First they flew up to Jackson Hole ...

Where they stayed with friends in Jackson Hole until the next day ...

 

Then they flew on up to Glacier National Park, way up in Montana next to Canada. It's one of the crown jewels of the National Park System. But sadly the glaciers have been melting for a long while, and it may not be all that much longer until they have to rename it something like "The National Park Formerly Known as Glacier".

Glacier is a huge park with lakes and mountains and glaciers and animals and forests and horses and hiking trails and more, way more than folks and their dogs can do in a few days. But they did go to Lake McDonald ...

And hiked in some old-growth forests ...

And rode some horses ...

And drove the incredible Going-to-the-Sun Road, over the mountains and across the Continental Divide ...

And they spent a day at Flathead Lake, south of Glacier Park. Flathead Lake is the largest natural freshwater lake west of the Mississippi River. The lake is so big that there's a 2100 acre island in it called Wild Horse Island, a state park designated as a primitive park, with lots of wildlife like eagles and ospreys and wild horses and mule deer and even bighorn sheep ...

 

But my week at Camp Barkaway was coming to an end! So with Capt. Jack and Karen C., they all flew back to Santa Fe. I was really glad to see my Peeps again!

So anyway, my Summer Camp adventures are over for a while, Camp Barkaway's just a pleasant memory, and we’re all getting back to our regular routines. Actually, though, as much fun as Camp Barkaway was, I kinda enjoy having us all back in our Forever Home, where it’s especially good to be Daisy. Hope it’s good to be you, too.

Daisy Jones-Klein
Santa Fe, NM
August 2013