We were at the bluffs with my owner's backup camera, which she has yet to master.
We started out in black and white, for reasons unknown.
Next thing I knew we were in color mode.
And then, inexplicably, we had moved into a mode where everything was black and white, except for blue, which popped out at you.
Once I got over my shock, I kind of liked this new world.
It's dizzying yet subtle. I think I could get used to it.
Someone left a bracelet lying on the Samulon bench at the bluffs.
It could have been left there deliberately, in a fit of pique or rage.
But, more likely, it was left there unintentionally and someone is missing it right now.
It's at times like this that a dog has to take on responsibility to the community.
So I headed off to look for people who might be missing bracelets.
Potentially a large population.
Sometimes when I go to the bluffs the plethora of options makes me feel like I'm on a cruise ship.
The other night, for example, there was a yoga session taking place at the same time as a game of fetch. It was hard for me to decide which one I should join.
In the end I went with yoga, because of its lifelong health benefits.
Everyone worried when we noticed the little plane flying alarmingly close to the water.
For a minute it disappeared entirely.
Then we saw it climbing towards the setting sun.
Out at the bluffs this morning I ran into my old aquaintance Ziggy with his owner.
It turned out that Ziggy has talents I was unaware of.
He responds to a lot of commands and can perform quite a few tricks. On top of that he's a friendly, affectionate guy.
It was impressive to watch Ziggy, yet also sobering as I realized that my own talents are, charitably speaking, more subtle. So I read Proust and reflect on philosophy...what skills do I actually offer the world? Ziggy responds to both English and German commands. The dog is brilliant.
Ziggy and his owner tried to reassure me, Ziggy modestly downplaying his accomplishments.
Then Howard and entourage showed up, and Ziggy went over to greet them because of course he also moves in that circle.
He's a Renaissance dog, make no mistake about it. Just being on the bench with Howard he excelled without even trying, as he performed an incredible leap of agility over the bench to go back to his owner.
Then Ziggy ran off to frolic on the bluff. I followed him for a bit. But I realized that he was a star so bright that I was happy just gazing at him in wonderment.
Who's the distinguished-looking gent with a fresh haircut and a black mitten on his paw?
You might be thinking it's a Michael Jackson impersonator, but it's me.
Close observers will notice that in a touch of either whimsy or confusion, my owner put the mitt on my left paw, though the sore we're trying to protect is on my right paw.
Juanito!
I've just met a dog named Juanito,
And suddenly that name
Will never be the same
To me.
...
....
This dog Juanito appeared at the bluffs tonight. He had been adopted from the Westside Animal Shelter six days ago, and he's about a year old. He looks a lot like me, but thinner, and with a big tail that he seems to like to keep tucked under his body.
Could Juanito and I be kin?
I've been trying to learn the back story on David R. Robbins, who is memorialized at this bench.
The plaque states that Mr. Robbins was born in 1959 and died young, in 1994. But there is no listing for him in the Social Security Death Index. I am perplexed.
Mr. Robbins was a son, a brother and a friend. Unfortunately, his bench memorial seems to have come upon hard times.
It benefits from a gorgeous location, however.
When I went out this morning I noticed some crows active nearby.
That didn't faze me. Nor did I feel the need to run after them (even though I have heard it suggested that crows are the new squirrels).
As the me-generation guru Fritz Perls put it:
I do my thing and you do your thing / I am not in this world to live up to your expectations / And you are not in this world to live up to mine / You are you / And am I / And if by chance we find each other / It's beautiful.
