I was out at the bluff when I was approached by a petite fan.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Bugsy walking past. It would have been nice to join him, but I knew I should not pass up an opportunity -- nay, a duty -- to help acclimatize this impressionable young person to the canine world.
The very next day, I was gratified to see my young protégée paying it forward by coaching a contemporary as to how to relate to me.
Sometimes when I go to the bluffs I like to flirt with danger a little.
I gauge how close to the edge I can stand.
It brings me closer to my roots: feral dog in savage terrain.
And it never fails to draw a rise out of my owner.
Not perfect, but it took a lot of wrangling just to get things looking this composed.
It was time to shake things up a bit: get off of my sofa, see the world, and get some exercise. I decided to take a hike into Temescal Canyon.
Thomas was the obvious choice to lead the trip. He is familiar with the Santa Monica Mountains, he uses good judgement, and I trust him.
We went up via El Medio, and thence onto our initial trail. The view was wide and lovely, and we stopped to enjoy it before continuing our ascent.
But things got unpleasant a few minutes later, when Thomas spotted a cruel sign on the trail ahead of us. He tried to turn me around and pull me back before I could read it. But I ignored him and, scampering ahead, was exposed to the sign in its full horror.
We turned back down, of course, descending into Temescal Canyon and into a mood that I would characterize as more minor key.
To get back home, we walked up Sunset Boulevard.
When we passed a mysteriously empty picture frame on the hillside retaining wall, Thomas seized upon it as an opportunity to build up my shaken self-esteem.
He exhorted me to hold my head up high and be proud that I'm a dog.
What a wise leader.
via Instagram
At the close of the day I like to sit in my recliner chair and catch up on all the news that's fit to print, even if it is sometimes over my head.
Sunday morning we did the Secret Stairs Walk #33 (Bronson Canyon Loop) with Teresa. The walk took us through an attractive part of the Hollywood Hills, starting and ending at the Scientology Celebrity Centre.
The Celebrity Centre's website explains that it is intended to "cater to those individuals.... upon whom society depends the most....the artists, politicians, leaders of industry, sports figures and anyone with the power and vision to create a better world."
The website goes on,
Now one might argue that these individuals already have benefits that many will never have. But, ask any one of them — ask yourself — it can become a lonely world. Subject to the unusual pressures that come with prominence and responsibility, being looked upon under a microscope for good or bad — these are burdens others can’t imagine. Not to mention the counter-attack such individuals are subjected to by those less-ambitious who would rather fight to maintain a “status quo” than allow another to attempt a change or improvement.
You see, there’s no shame in helping the artist. In fact, in the larger scope of societal help, we had better help the artist if we wish to advance the society at all.
When we returned to the Ons' house, I wasn't sure that I wanted to leave. I sat on their stoop for a while, thinking about how they understand how to treat an artistic Celebrity such as myself. They get the pressures that come with my prominence and responsibility. When I stay with them I feel like I can let go of my burden for a little while; get out from under the microscope of scrutiny that is my regular companion.
Teresa spoke softly and supportively with me. She acknowledged the hardships of living what others might see as my cosseted life at the bluffs. Promising that, just as the Celebrity Centre pampers other prominent leaders, she and Roger would be there to help and cater to me when I really needed them, she encouraged me to get in the car and cross the hill back to my lonely world on the other side.
Which I did, because I had an inkling that there might be a really good sunset that night.
via Instagram
"Everything the light touches...."
This seems like a good time to look back on the hopes I voiced on the first day of last year and see how things panned out.
Hmm. Not so good. ALS is still present, an awful scourge. Although a suspect was arrested in the hit-and-run death of David Pregerson, there is still regular news of new hit-and-runs. Inequality in America is if anything more starkly defined than it was a year ago; there continue to be plenty of homeless children.
OK. Let's go back another year.
On the first day of 2013, I was wishing improved health for Hillary Clinton, Kerry and Dexter. Hillary and Dexter pulled through nicely. Kerry did not.
I did have more consistent success in that year's personal resolutions for myself. I have kept the weight off. I continue to think deep thoughts. I have pretty much mastered the wait-to-cross-the-street thing. No jumping through hoops yet, but that was specified as a reach goal, so not achieving it shouldn't count as a failure.
But I see that it took me more than a year to fully achieve the 2013 goals. Maybe that should be factored into future goal-setting. Which I will take a stab at right now, also taking pains this time to identify goals that are achievable and within my sphere of influence.
So, for the two-year arc of 2015 - 2016, I hope to:
- Learn to better moderate my licking in line with social mores
- Catch lots of great sunsets
- Learn German
- Be slower to agitate to be held while out 'walking'
- Travel some more (so broadening!)
- Appreciate every moment with my family
I will also hold out hope to see the arc bend toward a more just society.
