I subscribe to the overall life philosophy of “Go where the dog takes you.”
Since man and dog teamed up, dogs have always led the way. We didn’t put leashes on dogs to keep them safe; we tethered them to us so they wouldn't leave us behind.
Such it is with not just the hunt in ancient times, but on this road of life. Tucker has been navigating the ship of my life since the day I met him. For the past four years, every gig has one non-negotiable element: Tucker has to be allowed in the office. We’re a package deal. And no, he’s not my emotional support dog. He’s more of my mood ring. If I am flustered and stressed, he begins futzing and itching and scratching and making a nuisance of himself. When I am calm and productive, he is napping. When I am happy and joyful, he offers up a toy for an exuberant game of tug, tail wagging and smile on this face.
Since man and dog teamed up, dogs have always led the way. We didn’t put leashes on dogs to keep them safe; we tethered them to us so they wouldn't leave us behind.
Such it is with not just the hunt in ancient times, but on this road of life. Tucker has been navigating the ship of my life since the day I met him. For the past four years, every gig has one non-negotiable element: Tucker has to be allowed in the office. We’re a package deal. And no, he’s not my emotional support dog. He’s more of my mood ring. If I am flustered and stressed, he begins futzing and itching and scratching and making a nuisance of himself. When I am calm and productive, he is napping. When I am happy and joyful, he offers up a toy for an exuberant game of tug, tail wagging and smile on this face.
Tucker is not a dog who can handle spending 12-14 hours alone in a house with one twenty minute walk a day while I’m at work. He needs a balanced, healthy dose of stimuli; people to meet and great, dogs to converse and romp with; new places to sniff and explore, and an equal amount of down time, dreaming his vivid and active doggy-dreams.
Whenever I turn down a job because my partner is not welcome, I know it is for the best. I am even sometimes justified when I later hear what a nightmare that particular job was. As for where Tucker has taken me, I can’t complain. Dog people are just more compassionate people. They understand that our jobs are jobs, not our entire lives.
I haven’t worked in Los Angeles in almost a decade. First off, I simply enjoy location work far more and get paid more lucratively for it. But the other reason, at least recently, is that none of the major studios allow dogs on the property, and few office/warehouse rentals allow them either.
And then this job came along: a television show shot mostly internationally with a couple of months in Los Angeles. I’d be based at LA Center Studios, the dog-friendliest dog friendly studio in all of LA. But I’d miss any opportunities for summer adventure jobs. No wandering around the east coast, no journeying to Canada, no cannonball run to Georgia. I’ve never spent more than four months in one shot in my own house. Even Tucker has only spent half his life with me at my permanent address.
But life has a way of being exactly the same—until it isn’t. Just one moment and all changes. One yes, and there it is: a gig at home, where Tucker and I spend every night in the house I bought five years ago and have spent all of three years in. It will be nice to be home, but my wanderlust is hard to keep bottled up. Just a week after accepting the job, someone called and said, “Hey, do you know anyone who wants to go to Wilmington, NC?” My first thought was, “Oooo! I haven’t been to Wilmington before!!” And then I realized I had already committed to be here—until the onset of Autumn.
I am trying to put the longevity of the job out of my mind and concentrate on making this like every other distant location job. I need to explore and discover this City of Angeles like I would any new town or city on location. There’s slightly more woods than Santa Fe, but certainly not as many waterfalls and shaded paths as the southern east coast, so it's going to take some work, but I will find the wild in this sprawling urban society.
In the spirit of making every weekend the same as on location, Pete’s mom Nicole invited Tucker and me to explore the trails outside her own apartment complex on President’s Day.
One forgets, especially working in an office that overlooks the 110 freeway and is surrounded by skyscrapers on every side, that a lot of Los Angeles does in fact look like this:
Whenever I turn down a job because my partner is not welcome, I know it is for the best. I am even sometimes justified when I later hear what a nightmare that particular job was. As for where Tucker has taken me, I can’t complain. Dog people are just more compassionate people. They understand that our jobs are jobs, not our entire lives.
I haven’t worked in Los Angeles in almost a decade. First off, I simply enjoy location work far more and get paid more lucratively for it. But the other reason, at least recently, is that none of the major studios allow dogs on the property, and few office/warehouse rentals allow them either.
And then this job came along: a television show shot mostly internationally with a couple of months in Los Angeles. I’d be based at LA Center Studios, the dog-friendliest dog friendly studio in all of LA. But I’d miss any opportunities for summer adventure jobs. No wandering around the east coast, no journeying to Canada, no cannonball run to Georgia. I’ve never spent more than four months in one shot in my own house. Even Tucker has only spent half his life with me at my permanent address.
But life has a way of being exactly the same—until it isn’t. Just one moment and all changes. One yes, and there it is: a gig at home, where Tucker and I spend every night in the house I bought five years ago and have spent all of three years in. It will be nice to be home, but my wanderlust is hard to keep bottled up. Just a week after accepting the job, someone called and said, “Hey, do you know anyone who wants to go to Wilmington, NC?” My first thought was, “Oooo! I haven’t been to Wilmington before!!” And then I realized I had already committed to be here—until the onset of Autumn.
I am trying to put the longevity of the job out of my mind and concentrate on making this like every other distant location job. I need to explore and discover this City of Angeles like I would any new town or city on location. There’s slightly more woods than Santa Fe, but certainly not as many waterfalls and shaded paths as the southern east coast, so it's going to take some work, but I will find the wild in this sprawling urban society.
In the spirit of making every weekend the same as on location, Pete’s mom Nicole invited Tucker and me to explore the trails outside her own apartment complex on President’s Day.
One forgets, especially working in an office that overlooks the 110 freeway and is surrounded by skyscrapers on every side, that a lot of Los Angeles does in fact look like this:
This is the Los Angeles Tucker and I set out to explore.
The trail outside her place intersected the main Griffith Park to a place known as “The Wisdom Tree.” You can see this tree from just about anywhere in Burbank. You need only gaze up at the mountain range separating the San Fernando Valley to the LA Basin, follow the rugged line across the top to the west, at the very end you’ll see one shadowy figure that from a distance, looks like a perfectly pruned Bonsai Tree.
After a fire (set accidentally by kids playing with fireworks) tore through Griffith Park, ravaging the landscape nearly a decade ago, this one tree was all that remained. No special effort was made to save it—it just SURVIVED. Its tenacity (or good luck) to not be consumed by flames has led many to sojourn up to this spot. Many of them, today.
At a round trip of 3.5 miles, the elevation gain is a grueling 1100 feet over a mile and a half or so. I thought this would deter the masses. I was wrong.
Tucker was quite pleased to be on the trails again, regardless of how many humans might be on them with him.
After a fire (set accidentally by kids playing with fireworks) tore through Griffith Park, ravaging the landscape nearly a decade ago, this one tree was all that remained. No special effort was made to save it—it just SURVIVED. Its tenacity (or good luck) to not be consumed by flames has led many to sojourn up to this spot. Many of them, today.
At a round trip of 3.5 miles, the elevation gain is a grueling 1100 feet over a mile and a half or so. I thought this would deter the masses. I was wrong.
Tucker was quite pleased to be on the trails again, regardless of how many humans might be on them with him.
His friend Pete could be off leash on the first leg of the journey that wasn’t teeming with people, but since Tucker would leave me in the dust the instant he was free, Pete leashed up out of politeness to his friend.
Long before reaching the pinnacle, we encountered sweeping views of Los Angeles.
Long before reaching the pinnacle, we encountered sweeping views of Los Angeles.
That blue patch in the middle is Lake Hollywood. As much as I would love to walk around it, it’s not the kind of lake one finds in other places in the US. The trail around it hides the lake behind chain link and wooden barriers. It is not a serene walk in the woods around a peaceful body of water.
Way atop our vertical climb, we came across boulders to add to the fun. Not enough to create an agility course, but enough to make Tucker smile as he climbed atop and balanced himself for a better view.
Way atop our vertical climb, we came across boulders to add to the fun. Not enough to create an agility course, but enough to make Tucker smile as he climbed atop and balanced himself for a better view.
Pete and Tucker sniffed and peed, reading information placards unexperienced by human senses, and adding their own opinions in their streams of pee and by kicking dirt this way and that.
For us humans, we enjoyed inhaling the fresh air that blew through after a week of storms and viewed the skyscape that hung just over the mountains, making shadows dance and play along the canyons.
Up at the top, beneath the Wisdom Tree, Tucker and Pete shared a drink. (Because there is no such thing as personal space for these two—they share everything at the same exact time.)
Los Angeles isn’t just a sprawling urban metropolis. It is a place whose landscape is as diverse as its population. Los Angeles is a an urban jungle but it also towering mountains, sandy beaches, hidden canyons, and trees that defy death.
Three hours after we began our hike, we returned to the hideaway apartment beneath trees that made me feel like I was on a southern plantation.
Tucker and Pete napped while we humans decompressed from an afternoon in the sun.
Tucker and Pete napped while we humans decompressed from an afternoon in the sun.
Los Angeles has a lot of secrets. It has undiscovered pockets, and a variety of experiences. It has been said, “The best part of LA is getting out of it.” But maybe those that say that just haven’t truly been in it.
Tucker has led me right to my own backyard for this gig, and although I don’t know why, I don’t doubt that he will find the most amazing places and most interesting adventures to have.
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