Lambiedog

To each his own

As I set out yesterday morning to check out the latest happenings in my domain, I was struck by the many ways in which individuals appreciate the bluffs.

 Immediately in front of me was a seated gentleman enjoying the view. 

             

  Behind him and to his right were two other gentlemen who seemed to be enjoying the bluffs more passively, as a pleasant setting for their slumbers.

As for my own enjoyment of the bluffs, it comes in the context of my work -- a passion that, as my readers know,consumes me.

  

New blood at the bluffs

    Big excitement at the bluffs yesterday.  There was new blood shaking things up, in a good way.

 First of all, there was a Rottweiler by the name of Tesla bounding about. Tesla seemed pretty mellow, though I noticed that her owner kept close tabs on her.

        
 

While everyone was still getting used to Tesla's energy, we were joined by a young dappled dachshund named Dexter.  Dexter is fast like a gazelle, and fearless.

  

We were all drawn to him.  The dog has that indefinable quality called presence.  

         

Evening exploration

 

  

More millinery notes

 

    Sometimes an idea seems to strike simultaneously in multiple places and -- bingo -- a trend emerges.

    Such appears to be the case with my recent foray into headgear.

    Not a day after I had posted on that topic, Sparkly's owner Suse called out to us on the bluff to request that we document Sparkly's look, which Suse described as "Nadia Comaneci in a babushka".

    In fact, Sparkly did look distinguished. Usually she wears her bandana around her neck, so this was something different.  

    Finney was entranced by Sparkly's intriguing new look -- so entranced that if I were a betting dog I'd be counting on her to be the next one to show up at the bluffs with headgear.  

    I'm not sure Finney's the babushka type, though.  A pillbox hat might be more reflective of her style.

Buddy

 

My neighbor Buddy passed away suddenly.  He seemed fine, then one day he couldn't get up.  It turned out he was riddled with cancer.  His owner had to put him down.

Buddy was a nice guy who never did anything bad to anyone.  He was beloved by his owners, a support to them through some difficult times, and a kind host to visiting dogs.

 Regrettably, I was never nice to Buddy.  I always barked at him and frightened him.  Now I will never have a chance to put things right.

   

My condolences to his loved ones.  I know they will miss him greatly.

Rest in peace, Buddy.

We bristle as one

 

A recent arrival was instantly unpopular.  No one liked him.

 He brazenly peed on our bench, then turned and walked away.

  
 

  The experience gave me insight into how onlookers sensing a threat to their community can be drawn into spontaneous group violence.  

Squirrel developments

  Lots of promising developments in the squirrel department.

I have been spending increasing amounts of time gazing into their lairs, trying to get inside their heads as any good tracker would do.

The work demands close attention.

    

Perhaps unsurprisingly, my subjects have not been supportive of my research efforts. 

But that does not dishearten me.  I'm confident that if I keep my nose to the ground I will turn up more information.

 

The best scientists have taken years to realize their life's work.  Think of Charles Darwin. 

Dog on a short leash

 

    Early yesterday morning I encountered a dog on an extremely short leash.

My first thought was that he must be a monster who required very close supervision.  But when I approached to sniff him, he turned out to be a nice fellow who was in the clutches of a controlling dog walker. 

 I whispered to him, using special dog language that only American Indian code talkers might be able to understand -- (and even they probably couldn't crack Spoken Dog) -- that he ought to make a break for it.

Although he listened intently to my suggestion, I could tell that he didn't have it in him.  Rebellion was not part of his vocabulary.  And I had to respect that.  Not everyone is an 'I ain't marching any more' type.  

 I didn't want to make him uncomfortable, so I backed off and wished him well.

 

Maybe he's the kind of guy who likes a short leash.

New friend

 

I've been having a great time out at the bluffs playing with a dog by the name of Charlie. 

Charlie and I have a lot in common:  We're both small, both white, both cute, and we share the same groomer.

           

We like running around with each other.

 

Not that we're exact replicas personality-wise.

  Charlie is the braver of us, and I the more cautious. 

     

     

But in terms of joie-de-vivre, I would say we are well-matched.

 

Haiku

  

Mooz bench defaced -- why?

Grieving husband planned for months;

Mindless louts don't care.