Lambiedog

Wherein I realize that I am among the slower students in the class

    Out at the bluffs this morning I ran into my old aquaintance Ziggy with his owner.

    It turned out that Ziggy has talents I was unaware of. 

                  

        
 
           
    He responds to a lot of commands and can perform quite a few tricks.  On top of that he's a friendly, affectionate guy. 

    It was impressive to watch Ziggy, yet also sobering as I realized that my own talents are, charitably speaking, more subtle.  So I read Proust and reflect on philosophy...what skills do I actually offer the world?  Ziggy responds to both English and German commands. The dog is brilliant.

 

    Ziggy and his owner tried to reassure me, Ziggy modestly downplaying his accomplishments.  

Then Howard and entourage showed up, and Ziggy went over to greet them because of course he also moves in that circle.

    He's a Renaissance dog, make no mistake about it.  Just being on the bench with Howard he excelled without even trying, as he performed an incredible leap of agility over the bench to go back to his owner.

Then Ziggy ran off to frolic on the bluff.  I followed him for a bit.  But I realized that he was a star so bright that I was happy just gazing at him in wonderment.

 

The Stirling bench

    Although the Stirlings' bench looks like the other bluff benches, it is distinguished by the fact that it is dedicated to the living people of Pacific Palisades, rather than to the memory of a person who has passed away.

    Norman Stirling is a dermatologist who practices in Marina del Rey.  Karen Stirling is his wife and the Executive Officer of the California Yacht Club Women's Association, also in Marina del Rey. 

    I don't have any additional information about the Stirlings. Like the location of their bench, they are out in the open yet easy to miss.

Formal pose

 

Who's the distinguished-looking gent with a fresh haircut and a black mitten on his paw?

You might be thinking it's a Michael Jackson impersonator, but it's me.  

    Close observers will notice that in a touch of either whimsy or confusion, my owner put the mitt on my left paw, though the sore we're trying to protect is on my right paw.

Of all the bluffs in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine

 

Juanito!  

I've just met a dog named Juanito,

And suddenly that name

Will never be the same

To me.

    ...

....

    This dog Juanito appeared at the bluffs tonight.  He had been adopted from the Westside Animal Shelter six days ago, and he's about a year old.   He looks a lot like me, but thinner, and with a big tail that he seems to like to keep tucked under his body.  

    Could Juanito and I be kin?  

Curvature of the earth

On the injured list

        I flew too close to the sun last night.   I got so involved in chewing on my rawhide that I sustained an injury to my right front paw, which was holding the rawhide in place.

    First we put a sock on it, but after I pulled that off it was time for the dressing / gauze / tape treatment, which is where things stand now.

 

Detective work on the Robbins bench

I've been trying to learn the back story on David R. Robbins, who is memorialized at this bench.

         

The plaque states that Mr. Robbins was born in 1959 and died young, in 1994.  But there is no listing for him in the Social Security Death Index.  I am perplexed.

Mr. Robbins was a son, a brother and a friend.  Unfortunately, his bench memorial seems to have come upon hard times.

 

It benefits from a gorgeous location, however.

The party gets old

It was a typical bluffs evening.  Dogs were running all over.

A minstrel was strolling around dispensing his craft.

Ollie was playing dead as the minstrel's dog sniffed him.

I took it in for a while, but let's remember that I'm not the most outgoing guy when it comes to other dogs.  So when the socializing got too intense, I took a solitary moment for myself.

Then I cast my owner a pleading look.    

I noticed Trudie had had it with the hoopla as well.

Finally, between the two of us, we got the party moving home.

Thank goodness.

Coexisting with the crows

When I went out this morning I noticed some crows active nearby.

        

That didn't faze me.  Nor did I feel the need to run after them (even though I have heard it suggested that crows are the new squirrels).

As the me-generation guru Fritz Perls put it:

I do my thing and you do your thing / I am not in this world to live up to your expectations / And you are not in this world to live up to mine / You are you / And am I / And if by chance we find each other / It's beautiful.

 

My bed

My bed is one of my favorite places.  I always feel secure there.  Fortuitously, it is on the ground, and easy to access without requiring any embarrassing tests of my jumping abilities.