Lambiedog

Encounter with a Lipizzaner stallion

My Independence Day

The poodle seen marching in the parade above is not me.

Instead, I was the guy on the sidelines watching the festivities unfold.

It was the Fourth of July and, as is my wont, I took an understated approach.

Instead of the traditional tri-color red, white, and blue, I went with a simpler white and blue. I like to leave something for the onlooker's eye to fill in.

Oliver and Winnie and I attended the parade together. 

We saw lots of bands....

 

    and received some fashion inspiration.

In the end, though, it was really about relationships. 

It was a chance to enjoy the day with individuals who were all happy to share in the celebration of our magnificent albeit flawed democracy.

Contortionist

 

Brothers home

My brothers have been home recently.

Two of them were here at the same time.

  Soon after they left, the third brother arrived.

I basked in the company.  While they were here it felt like Camelot, with The Most Important Guy front and center.

           

But now I'm back to my dreary life, making do with whatever dregs of attention I can get.

Remembering fallen friends

    Back in the day, there were ground squirrels at the bluffs wherever you looked.  And I looked at them a lot.

A purge by the county knocked them out. But their holes remain, an evocative memorial to their joie-de-vivre and fun, fast-paced lives. 

My Juliet

    Each morning Delilah and I bark at one another like crazy as I walk past her home.

We never actually see each other, as we are separated by a stone wall and a wood gate.

So I was enthralled yesterday to look up and see her, posed above me like a beautiful vision.

But alas, it was not long to be.  I looked away, and she was gone.

Her delicate floral scent remained with me for hours.

Bench news roundup

    All of the older benches at the bluff have now been replaced with an attractive new style that is much more esthetically appealing than the plywood byproduct benches that were added a few years ago.

As previously reported, the first improvement was in the Stirling bench, which subsequently also received a touching new nameplate.

Now, the Berman-Yoshpe bench has been upgraded, as has the Anna Walker Steere bench. 

I was happily surprised that the Steere bench received any improvement, since it has been edging closer and closer to the edge of the bluff as the cliff recedes.

Unfortunately, the bench's isolated location also makes it an attractive target for vandals, who have already left their mark. 

In the hands of a master journalist

I was standing around at the bluff the other day when a photojournalist came rushing up in search of subjects for a piece he was doing on dogs. 

This was not a completely disinterested reporter.  We are social acquaintances. 

Thus, I may be forgiven for assuming that if he wanted to interview a dog he'd focus on me.  I quickly tried to remember which side was my most photogenic. 

But to my chagrin, this reporter's attention and camera -- shot upon shot --  were directed at an unknown dog standing nearby.

 

I thought of crying foul, but the truth is that I respect this reporter too much.  I've worked with him before.  I know that he's the real thing.  He'll follow a story wherever it takes him.

He's a man of great integrity.  Actually, the fact that he rose above our connection made me respect him even more. 

So I stood by patiently while he captured Unknown Dog from every angle.  It gave me time to gather my thoughts and recollect that my right side is my noblest profile.

Finally, he shifted his attention to me. 

I turned slightly, to give him the good profile and my Blue Steel far-away gaze. 

 He captured my essence in a single shot.

Then he zoomed off, in pursuit of another promising lead.

Sleepover

I went on a sleepover at the Ons' house.

We packed my valise, loaded it into the car, and drove over to Sherman Oaks.

 

 

I've been there many times.  I know Teresa.  I know Roger.  I know their cat, Pumpy.  Also, Kevin was home from college for spring break.  We've spent some good times in the past carousing together. 

 So I ran right in and made myself at home, while Teresa and my owner reviewed my daily routine.

 

Then my owner left.

         

After I got over my shock, it turned out that life was pretty good at the Ons'.

I had affection, exercise, and, to keep things interesting, an adversary.

    In fact, I was treated like a king, and I responded in kind.  Roger and Teresa were a bit surprised when I insisted on joining them under the covers.

I did wonder when my owner would be coming back. 

Of course, I knew that, like the song says, she always comes back -- she never would forget me.

Navigating the bluff's subtle social winds

Friday afternoon I went over to the bluffs hoping to find a good time. 

The in-crowd ignored me.  Of course.

Rebuffed, I went over to see instead what was happening with Eddie.  His owner was holding out her hand to him.  Something was going on. 

It occurred to me that she might be offering a treat.   I leapt up to see whether there might be some to share.

How embarrassing -- I had misread the situation. 

Eddie's owner wasn't holding out a treat, but, rather, pointing her trigger finger, as in "Bang bang, you're dead."

Eddie ignored it for a while, but finally he slumped over and cooperated.