Lambiedog

Enjoying the sea air in Cambria

In Cambria, we stayed in a hostelry that welcomes my kind.  That is, they let me stay there, albeit with all sorts of limitations: can't stay in room alone, can't go into pool or hot tub, can't be on bed ever, have to pay $25 extra just because you're a dog.  There's still a lot of prejudice in this world.

But on the bright side, Moonstone Beach was lovely -- both relaxing and stimulating, what with all the squirrel and chipmunk holes under the boardwalk, and the seals sunning themselves out on the rocks. 

I enjoyed my dinner al fresco.

Road trip

We spent a lot of time in the car this week, because that's what you do on a road trip.

It was a good opportunity to bond with my family.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

My brothers and I have a tight connection.

Taking some 'me' time

I am on vacation in northern California.  When you're in a high-stress position like mine it's really important to remember to take time to unwind.  

Looking at the laid-back dogs who live here at this ranch full-time, I realize that I had practically forgotten how to relax.

  

But I think I'm getting the hang of it.

A shocking discovery

I am not alone in the world!

If you type 'Lambie' into Bing -- the new Microsoft search engine -- and then click on 'Images,' photos of a lot of other Lambie dogs come up.

     

    

Some of these guys look very nice.  I bet we could be friends.  We might also be related.  Maybe I should organize a Lambie convention so we could get to know one another.

Big time operators

So, it turns out that there are some other guys who like to watch squirrels, and these guys have a sophisticated operation -- big artillery and lots of ammunition.

It's the sanitation truck drivers, who seem to spend a good part of their Tuesday mornings sitting at the bluffs throwing food to attract squirrels to come to them.

It's hard to compete with a set-up like that.

Species confusion

A member of my entourage has just brought up an intriguing possibility:  What if I am in fact a miniature lamb rather than a dog?  Since I was abandoned as a young animal I know no one who actually recalls my mother.  

If it quacks like a duck and walks like a duck, it's a duck.  But if it looks like a lamb and walks like a dog, which is it?

We've assumed that I'm a dog because I was rescued by a dog rescuer. What if my rescuer took a few categorization liberties in a generous effort to save a young lamb lost in a dangerous neighborhood? 

Here's my position:  I am not interested in species reassignment at this point.  I have identified as a dog for quite a while now, and I prefer to retain that identity.  

Back to work

I'm back in business after the Great Squirrel Disappointment.

I could be going into an existential funk and asking myself, 'What is the point?'

But I don't want to go the way of bitterness and despair.  'Get a grip, Lambie,' I tell myself.

I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of one little dog don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.  

An unexpected squirrel development

Sometimes when you get what you want it doesn't turn out how you expected.

Tonight I found a decomposed squirrel at the bluff.  I followed my genetic predisposition and mouthed it just like I do my new toy squirrel.  I was having a great time until my owner noticed and was very upset with me. 

Drama drama drama.  She yanked me away, ran me home and gave me a bath, and called the vet.  Now we're waiting around to see if I exhibit any symptoms of poisoning. 

At least she didn't take away my toy squirrel.

Putting a bully in his place

I was watching Pookie and his mom have a nice photo session,

when a monster in a rubber apron thought it would be fun to start scaring us.  

We didn't think it was funny.  He completely spooked Pookie.

I gave that guy a piece of my mind.

My friend Willy

Willy lives across the street.  Each time I go out for a walk I stop in front of his house and stare hopefully at the door, wondering whether it will open. Quite often it does open, because Willy hears or smells me outside and gets excited.

Once Kim opens the door I bound inside and run around their house to check on things.  I always make sure to check Willy's food bowl because he tends to have great food.  Then I run back and lick Kim, and then go outside to cavort with Willy.  I'm usually too restrained to jump on other dogs, but sometimes I'm so happy that I jump on Willy.

Willy and me on a walk