Lambiedog

A case of trash

    While I was doing some sniffing work on the slope at the south end of the bluff, I happened to turn and look uphill. 

    My eye was caught by a disturbing vista of garbage. 

   
Bizarrely, the garbage appeared to be growing out of a bush.

 

I hurried to investigate.

It didn't take me long to determine that garbage-droppers had been having a heyday at this end of the bluff.

Everywhere I looked I saw signs of their disrespect.  Cans and cigarette butts were scattered plentifully around the area.

My mind turned to the late Lady Bird Johnson, who spearheaded the "Don't be a litterbug" campaign to beautify America.  I felt grateful that Lady Bird was not alive to learn of this desecration.

But then it occurred to me that Lady Bird might have been a can half-full type of person -- someone who focused not on the trash but on the lovely views, the crisp air, the cliffs too far for litterbugs to reach with their hurled cans.

What would Lady Bird do?

Gifted with opposable thumbs, she would likely have picked up the trash.  I didn't have that option.  But I did have the ability to look at the can half-full, so that's what I did.

Me and my Boswell

Social IQ

Oliver is always in the center of the crowd.  He radiates calm, and dogs seem drawn to him.

Whether he's mixing it up in a group, or sharing private confidences, he always looks comfortable.

 Social IQ is such a hard thing to analyze. Where does it come from? Why does one dog have it and another not?

Me, for example. I'm great with people, but cool with other dogs.

I've been studying Ollie, trying to pick up some of his ineffable secrets.

Apparently it helps to have short legs.

Fog

It was a foggy afternoon.

The bluff looked beautiful and mysterious.  And dangerous.

A dog could drop over the edge, and no one would know.

I could barely see my paw in front of my face.

 

There are no prizes awarded for foolhardiness.  So I took the prudent course and headed for home.

 

Return to Squirrelville

I was wandering the bluffs yesterday when my attention was caught by a hole.

It reminded me strongly of my halcyon days monitoring squirrel activity in precisely this area of the bluffs.  

I did some further investigation in other areas that the squirrels used to frequent.

 

     I'm not quite ready to make a decisive statement, but I have reason to believe that the squirrels are back in town.  I don't see them yet, but I sense their presence.

They make it look so easy

 

Stonehenge

When I go out in the morning I like to head first to Stonehenge, a place where two big stones sit not far apart.

In this peaceful, druidlike setting I am moved to express myself.

The unkindest cut

    To the right is a photo of me innocently cavorting with a new acquaintance by the name of Max, just before his owner pointed at me and asked my owner, "Is she pregnant?"

Below is a photo of me trying to simultaneously suck in my stomach and look macho.

 

Concert

There was an air of suppressed excitement at the bluffs.

Many dogs had gathered, and more kept streaming in.

    
  

The occasion?

 

An impromptu guitar concert.  

It was a mellow afternoon.  Some of us kept dancing even when the concert was over.  

The dogs hung out, and the people hung out, and everyone was happy.

Bright morning