Lambiedog

Into the tunnel, almost

Another grueling morning of squirrel work.

I collapsed as soon as I got home.

Squirrel work with Dolce

I took Dolce with me to check on the squirrel situation.

Dolce found a bottle of Dos Equis.

From that point on she forgot our purpose.

She's just a puppy and is easily diverted. 

I had to shoulder the full responsibility by myself.  

Palaver with friends

Caught up with the guys at the bluffs.

Willy's studded collar is looking sharp.

I asked his owner, Kim, if she could give me some sartorial advice.

Kim's got a great sense of style.

My body is a temple

I try to perform my rituals in harmonic convergence with earth, sea and sky.

Foxtails

Foxtails  are a scourge to the dog population. 

These spiky plants, which are all over the bluff right now, have barbed needles that get embedded in our nostrils, our ears, our bellies, and between our toes. They grow low, at just the right height to present us maximum danger.

Long-haired dogs are the most vulnerable.  I've heard stories of foxtails that go in through the ear or nose, travel into soft tissue and organs, and end up cutting a dog's life off in full bloom. Two dogs in my friend Tucker's family died that way. 

 I have short, curly hair, so foxtails are more of an inconvenience than a mortal danger for me.  But being a civic-minded dog, I am stirred to engagement.  Maybe I should organize a protest.

Stopping by bluffs on a sunny morning

Hung out with some sanitation workers on their break this morning.   

We bonded while observing a hawk flying nearby.

 

Then, regretfully, I took my leave.

It had been a nice interlude, but I knew that I had promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.

 

They said they understood.

Monday afternoon we all tried to act unworried about the potential pandemic

It was another gorgeous afternoon out at the bluffs.

I met a new guy, by the name of Prince.

He seemed carefree and brave in the face of the swine flu hoopla, but I noticed he brought a glass of wine with him, perhaps to fortify his nerves. 

Is it a dog park?

    Some people call my bluff a dog park, but it isn't really.  It's a place that old people like to come and sit, and young people like to come and make out, and middle aged people like to come and stand around and talk and watch the sun set while their dogs have a good time.

Where everybody knows your name

    Late each afternoon, I head out to the bluffs near my home to socialize and do some sniffing. There are some regulars that I can always look forward to seeing:   Winnie and Trudie, Zachary and Scout, Dolce, Wonka, Teddy, Buddy, CeeCee, Max, Molly, Harry and Sadie, Sparkly, Rosie, Bo and Luna.

Some of these dogs really go wild playing with each other, especially the puppies.

Occasionally I get involved; maybe run along for a bit.

But usually I prefer to go sniff around for ground squirrels,

or perhaps to stand around and think important thoughts.