Around the time of my getting involved with Steve's world through music, a new actor appeared on our family scene who would bond in a most profound way with Steve. This was the dog, named Primo.
Primo, a mutt of unknown origin, would prove the aphorism, "Dogs take after their owners." In the Steve-Primo case, we might add a second line to said aphorism:
Dogs take after their owners,
And owners take after their dogs.
I do not recall how Primo entered our household, but there was barely ever a moment from then on that he and Steve were not together. Although a mix and match mutt, part shepherd, doberman, and sheep dog, he was strikingly handsome. He also was every bit the alpha male that his name Primo bore. Finally, he also owned the Stainless aura, just like his master. I recall him fighting and wrestling a neighboring dog in the dusty gullies behind our house. Primo emerged from this huge cloud of dust, fangs, and fur as one might expect. One brief head to tail shake later, however, he miraculously showed like a shining mascot for a dog food company.
Steve learned to drive around this time, and one would often see him away to some unknown destination in his yellow MGB coupe, Primo the sitting passenger. I did not know it then, but later Steve would tell me that during his 16 to 18 years, he would often skip school and head off with Primo to explore the mountains and deserts of California. Like Steve, Primo was gifted with seemingly endless energy and endurance. This did not work out so well on the days where Steve had to go to school. Dogs, of course, were not allowed in school, so Primo would have to stay home. Perhaps everyone thought he would be happy dogging about on our 4 acres? Nope.
Apparently, the first day Steve went to school, Primo simply jump-sailed over our 8 foot fences and followed him. At first this worked out fine, as schools in the 1970s were quite laid-back, with few rules and regulations compared to today's schools. Steve would be sitting in class, and sometime later Stainless Primo would cooly saunter in and quietly sit down next to him, listening to the lecture along with Master. In fact, Primo quickly became very popular at South Hills High School. He was an exceptionally charming critter when he wanted something. In this case, it was simply to hang around with Steve wherever he went. Primo soon became the school mascot and his fans amongst the teachers, coaches, and faculty bent the rules for a time. But of course, other students started bringing their dogs to school, frightened students started demanding "dog-safe spaces." ETC. We know how it goes. In the end, Primo had to stay home.
Of course for Primo, Primo does not "have" to do anything. First were built higher fences. "Surely a dog cannot get over a 10 foot fence?" A few days later, "Surely a dog cannot get over a 12 foot fence?" A few days later, "Looks like Primo will have to stay tied up for the day." A few days and a shredded fig tree later, "Surely Primo cannot chew threw the Big Oak Tree?" One ruined dog leash and a few days later, "This Dominator D-24 leash is used on bears in the circus." The Dominator D-24 did indeed do the trick, but we lived in an area with many retirees. The phone calls came flooding in, "Your stupid dog is barking and howling non-stop the entire day!" In came the Dominator D-9 muzzle. Lo and behold, Primo was subdued.
Or so we thought. That evening Steve opined "Hmm, Primo is not his usual self. He's bitter." By the next morning Vengeance had struck. My mother's prized Venetian blinds, painstakingly installed all along the sunny side of the house had been one and all shredded. Primo was staring everyone down at breakfast, his challenging gaze speaking volumes, "You want to mess with me? I thought so."
A day of fiery argument followed. In the end, my Dad ruled that Primo would be allowed to stay in the family, but would be punished and trained against destruction. I vividly remember my mother thenceforth naming him "Primo, the 10000 dollar dog."
Primo's bitterness at being separated from Steve because of school did not really end until my Dad brought home a mate, another little mutt of the female persuasion, Budweiser. Budweiser could not be more opposite a nature than Primo. She was as stupid as he was clever, cowardly as he was brave, loved to follow as much as Primo loved leading, seemed to be constantly covered in grit, twigs and dust, was not very pretty, and finally became very fat and lazy from endlessly eating avocadoes. Nevertheless, Primo jealously took charge of her and lost some of his possessiveness towards Steve.
Steve and Primo finally split when Steve left home at 18, but I recall one more story Steve recounted to me later. Ever the rebel in those days, he and his gang of friends decided to mock the yearly election cycle of the Student Body President. One of Steve's friends entered the election as a pseudo candidate, promising absurd things like paid holidays for students, a smoking zone in the school cafeteria, and the school sending a squad of football players to attack the Soviet Union. At the final rally where the candidates made speeches, Steve entered the back of the hall, shouted something in Russian then "assassinated" their candidate with a water gun. Another friend unleashed Primo from behind the stage who went running to "attack" Steve while the dying candidate dramatically cried out his last words, "Save the children! Save the children!"
Since Primo had not been seen at school for a year or so, everyone erupted with applause and laughter when he appeared so that in the confusion he did not see Steve "the assassin" but ran around licking various people instead. In any case, the stunt got Steve and his group of friends a week of suspension which was a perfect excuse for Steve to engage in some "spiritual searching" about "disrespect for democracy and the electoral process". In his MGB. With Primo the passenger.
Primo, a mutt of unknown origin, would prove the aphorism, "Dogs take after their owners." In the Steve-Primo case, we might add a second line to said aphorism:
Dogs take after their owners,
And owners take after their dogs.
I do not recall how Primo entered our household, but there was barely ever a moment from then on that he and Steve were not together. Although a mix and match mutt, part shepherd, doberman, and sheep dog, he was strikingly handsome. He also was every bit the alpha male that his name Primo bore. Finally, he also owned the Stainless aura, just like his master. I recall him fighting and wrestling a neighboring dog in the dusty gullies behind our house. Primo emerged from this huge cloud of dust, fangs, and fur as one might expect. One brief head to tail shake later, however, he miraculously showed like a shining mascot for a dog food company.
Steve learned to drive around this time, and one would often see him away to some unknown destination in his yellow MGB coupe, Primo the sitting passenger. I did not know it then, but later Steve would tell me that during his 16 to 18 years, he would often skip school and head off with Primo to explore the mountains and deserts of California. Like Steve, Primo was gifted with seemingly endless energy and endurance. This did not work out so well on the days where Steve had to go to school. Dogs, of course, were not allowed in school, so Primo would have to stay home. Perhaps everyone thought he would be happy dogging about on our 4 acres? Nope.
Apparently, the first day Steve went to school, Primo simply jump-sailed over our 8 foot fences and followed him. At first this worked out fine, as schools in the 1970s were quite laid-back, with few rules and regulations compared to today's schools. Steve would be sitting in class, and sometime later Stainless Primo would cooly saunter in and quietly sit down next to him, listening to the lecture along with Master. In fact, Primo quickly became very popular at South Hills High School. He was an exceptionally charming critter when he wanted something. In this case, it was simply to hang around with Steve wherever he went. Primo soon became the school mascot and his fans amongst the teachers, coaches, and faculty bent the rules for a time. But of course, other students started bringing their dogs to school, frightened students started demanding "dog-safe spaces." ETC. We know how it goes. In the end, Primo had to stay home.
Of course for Primo, Primo does not "have" to do anything. First were built higher fences. "Surely a dog cannot get over a 10 foot fence?" A few days later, "Surely a dog cannot get over a 12 foot fence?" A few days later, "Looks like Primo will have to stay tied up for the day." A few days and a shredded fig tree later, "Surely Primo cannot chew threw the Big Oak Tree?" One ruined dog leash and a few days later, "This Dominator D-24 leash is used on bears in the circus." The Dominator D-24 did indeed do the trick, but we lived in an area with many retirees. The phone calls came flooding in, "Your stupid dog is barking and howling non-stop the entire day!" In came the Dominator D-9 muzzle. Lo and behold, Primo was subdued.
Or so we thought. That evening Steve opined "Hmm, Primo is not his usual self. He's bitter." By the next morning Vengeance had struck. My mother's prized Venetian blinds, painstakingly installed all along the sunny side of the house had been one and all shredded. Primo was staring everyone down at breakfast, his challenging gaze speaking volumes, "You want to mess with me? I thought so."
A day of fiery argument followed. In the end, my Dad ruled that Primo would be allowed to stay in the family, but would be punished and trained against destruction. I vividly remember my mother thenceforth naming him "Primo, the 10000 dollar dog."
Primo's bitterness at being separated from Steve because of school did not really end until my Dad brought home a mate, another little mutt of the female persuasion, Budweiser. Budweiser could not be more opposite a nature than Primo. She was as stupid as he was clever, cowardly as he was brave, loved to follow as much as Primo loved leading, seemed to be constantly covered in grit, twigs and dust, was not very pretty, and finally became very fat and lazy from endlessly eating avocadoes. Nevertheless, Primo jealously took charge of her and lost some of his possessiveness towards Steve.
Steve and Primo finally split when Steve left home at 18, but I recall one more story Steve recounted to me later. Ever the rebel in those days, he and his gang of friends decided to mock the yearly election cycle of the Student Body President. One of Steve's friends entered the election as a pseudo candidate, promising absurd things like paid holidays for students, a smoking zone in the school cafeteria, and the school sending a squad of football players to attack the Soviet Union. At the final rally where the candidates made speeches, Steve entered the back of the hall, shouted something in Russian then "assassinated" their candidate with a water gun. Another friend unleashed Primo from behind the stage who went running to "attack" Steve while the dying candidate dramatically cried out his last words, "Save the children! Save the children!"
Since Primo had not been seen at school for a year or so, everyone erupted with applause and laughter when he appeared so that in the confusion he did not see Steve "the assassin" but ran around licking various people instead. In any case, the stunt got Steve and his group of friends a week of suspension which was a perfect excuse for Steve to engage in some "spiritual searching" about "disrespect for democracy and the electoral process". In his MGB. With Primo the passenger.
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