Seventy-five people, including the fire department, gathered at the bluff this morning to await the arrival of the tsunami wave generated by Japan's terrible earthquake.
The expected time came and went but the wave did not appear. Finally, everyone went home.
We have a new fresh approach to exercise, replacing last year's fresh approach.
This one recognizes and addresses the Achilles heel of exercising locally: the difficulty I have in walking away from my home. I keep stopping and refusing to go further, in the hope that this silent protest might convince my owner to turn around.
Under the new regime, she puts me in the car and drives me to our exercise spot. This practice both leverages my enthusiasm for car rides and neutralizes my homing instinct, since, similar to a blindfolded hostage, I am disoriented and have no idea how to get home.
Our itinerary today was Venice, for an entertaining canal walk.
(We couldn't take a boat ride because all the boats in the canals are individually owned by canal residents.)
I saw ducks,
classy residences,
and threatening residents.
All in all, I had a great time. Although I am not ashamed to be a traditionally-built dog, I fancied I could feel some of my bulk melting off.
When I visited Dr. Galea last week to seek help for my recurrent ear infection, talk inevitably turned to my weight (18 pounds 2 ounces). Dr. Galea's first thought was that I was eating too much, but after favorably reviewing my diet, he changed his analysis.
He felt my abdomen and commented that he could still feel my ribs easily, then had me stand on the floor while he checked out my profile, which also met with his approval.
His conclusion?
I am not overweight -- just built sturdily. (Or, as Mma Ramotswe in the No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series would put it, I am a 'traditionally built' dog.)
This is what I have been trying to convey to my detractors* for months, perhaps even years!
Dr. Galea provided some practical advice: We should keep my diet as it is, avoid the treats I so enjoy when I go to Willy's house, and try to add more exercise.
With his words in mind, I will be taking up scenic hiking. Stay tuned.
*To be fair, they are not really detractors. They carp about my weight because they want me to live long and healthily. In that sense you could call them some of my biggest supporters.
Yesterday I had the pleasure of meeting Sam's family's new dog: a puppy named Rooney.
Rooney comes from the same breeder that Sam came from, and you can really see the resemblance, though Rooney has a coloring and sweetness all his own.
His eyes are a beautiful blue color, and he is very attentive to his owner.
What a happy addition to his family, to the neighborhood, and (once he's had all his shots) to the bluffs.
Giggles was under stress. He had a lot on his mind, and needed to process and share.
I find it often works best to approach tough topics in the course of some other activity.
So I proposed that we go for a 'frolic' at the end of the bluff.
As we strolled, Giggles laid out his heartache for me, and we worked through it.
By the end of our session, his step was much lighter. It was as if a weight had been lifted.
It's happy hour out at the bluffs.
Most of the dogs are busy interacting.
One still small voice crouches and leaps toward his owner, attempting to get her to pick him up.
Call it his version of aerobic exercise.
An unsolicited photo from a fan has given me the idea that maybe I should look into setting up some Lambie memorabilia with CafePress. I want my base to have easy access to mementos of me.
A T-shirt might be nice, with my image and perhaps an inspiring motto like "What would Lambie do?" or "Guided by Lambie."
What is it about the winter light? The mornings have been incredibly clear recently.
And the evenings....
Well, the evenings are really like going to a worship service of some kind, the kind where dogs are welcome.
It's not unusual to see dogs genuflecting in appreciation.
For myself, I find I need to survey my domain before I can fully relax and enjoy the sky.
First thing I do is to make sure that everything is in order. All dogs in their places, all owners in their places, all houses in their places.
I check the other end of the bluff to make sure that everything looks good there too. Just because the sun's setting in the west doesn't mean you should ignore the south.
All systems are go down at that end, so I let myself kick back and savor the sunset.
Once again, Lambie helps orchestrate a gorgeous ending to the day.
