Lambiedog

Parade blues

 

    So, I see that the Palisades has picked a winning motto for this year's Fourth of July parade:  "Small Town, Big Heart."  

    As these things go, it's okay, but it doesn't seem very Lambie-centric.  "Small Town, Big Poop," would have been better.  Or, "Small Dog, Big Stomach."  Or even,"Nice Bluffs, Many Ground Squirrels."

     Of course, I realize that I have only myself to blame, since I didn't enter the contest.  

    Next year I'm going to enter a slogan.  It's my civic duty, plus I think that I'd really enjoy the victor's reward of riding on the fire truck during the parade.  

My solitary labors

    Things are heating up here in terms of wildlife.  Squirrels and rabbits are present on the bluffs in increasing numbers, offering eager students many promising avenues of inquiry.  

    Yet my research is so often solitary.

    I do try to get other dogs involved. Ziggy, for example, with his great intellect, would be an outstanding research partner.  Mogul, with his boundless enthusiasm, could also doubtless advance our efforts.  Even Tramp could assist when he's in town.  

    If only.

    The problem is that, just as I seem to lack the hail-fellow-well-met gene, these guys do not seem to have the gene for research.   If I propose a wildlife foray, they're willing to follow along with me for a second or two. Then they get caught up in their interactions and forget about fauna that might be hidden in the bushes.

 

    So I straighten my shoulders and head off to find more research subjects.  

    Alone again, of course.

 

Flower appreciation

 

There's a beautiful flower that I like to visit at the bluffs.

    It has been a launching pad for some of my most important investigative work.        

It has also crossed my mind that if I were to position myself strategically I could use this flower and its foliage as part of a disguise to render me scary and warriorlike, as the elephants did when fighting the rhinoceri in Babar's Travels.

                    

    Just a thought.
 

Snack time

 We were playing over at Willy's house when Kim brought out some treats.  We all gathered round.

 On the ladies-first principle Miss Jade got the first snack.  Then, maybe on the guests-first principle, it was Charo's turn.  

Finally it was time for the Most Important Dog to receive my treat.

 

 As the host, Willy was very patient and waited until everyone else had been served. 

Guidance

 

Dolce's uncle

 

Dolce's uncle paid her a holiday visit. He thoughtfully paid attention as well to those of us who didn't have any visiting relatives.  

But when I got home I was beset with the blues.  Why didn't I have any relatives visiting?

 

Too bad my relatives live on the other side of the continent.

Dispatch from the south of France

 

My European correspondent has sent me some photos of French dogs engaged in their native routines:

         

         

         

I note that these dogs seem perhaps more urbane than us simple country folk who gather at the bluff. 

Westward migration

      There is a significant difference in tone between my morning and evening bluff outings.

     My trip to the bluffs in the morning tends to be solitary and brief, with the sole purpose of excretion before returning home for breakfast.

    ...

    By contrast, my afternoon migration is broadly social and open-ended.  After sometimes stopping off to visit my friend Willy, I fall into what historian Howard Kern calls the 'canine convoy' making its way westward to the bluffs like some great wave of manifest destiny.  

Source of strength

 

When I'm at a loss I sometimes seek guidance at the sacred fire pit.  

  Even if there's no fire going, I absorb calm and wisdom as I circle around the pit. 

 It centers me.

 

A friend to all

 

Out at the bluffs you can meet all sorts of individuals.  People who sit on the bluff benches tend to be very welcoming to me, which is a good thing since I tend to join them without waiting to be invited.