Lambiedog

Calamaro

    Who was the late Fino Calamaro?  From his bench plaque at the bluffs, we know that Mr. Calamaro was born in 1919 and died in 1996.

   The Blue and Gold Yearbook of the University of California at Berkeley lists a 1949 graduate by the name of Raphael Fino i Calamaro, who graduated with a degree in Civil Engineering.  The yearbook states that he hailed from Eypt,and was a transfer from Ecole Francaise d'Ingenieurs.   

    We also know that Mr. Calamaro an engineer who worked in the aerospace industry at McDonnell Douglas in the 1960s and 1970s, because he is mentioned in the memoirs  of a finite element analysis consultant named Henry Fong.

    There has been and continues to be a Calamaro living in the bluffs area since 1973 -- a relative, perhaps?

    What we know for sure is that Mr. Calamaro was loved and is missed by his family.

Well-stated

There was a terrific piece in yesterday's New York Times by one of the most prominent dogs in America. Read it here . 

Mr. Samulon's bench

Who was Henry Adam Samulon? 

From the plaque, we know that he was a beloved family man, who lived 82 years, from 1915 to 1997.  

He was also an accomplished electrical accoustical engineer who worked at TRW, and a Swiss-Jewish refugee who emigrated to the United States in 1947.  More about Mr. Samulon can be found in this biography of his wife, Fay Samulon. 

I never had the pleasure of knowing Henry Samulon in life, but I have enjoyed many inspiring moments in the shadow of his memorial bench.  

Behind the benches

    I think I will use the calm provided by the squirrels' mysterious summer absence to work on another of my interests:  history. My research will focus on the six benches scattered along the bluffs, each of them dedicated to the memory of a different person or persons.

    Who what when where why -- that's the classic reporter's brief, and it will be mine too.  I've already answered the 'where' -- it's the bluff.  But the rest remains to be discovered.

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.

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.  

Not my twin

Out at the bluffs, I met a dog who looks like me.  Her name is Angel.

First I had a soaring thought that we might be siblings, maybe even twins.  When you are adopted you always wonder if there's another dog running around with your same genetic makeup.  

But after we did some comparisons and measuring, I had to admit that it was unlikely. 

In my bluffside roamings, I will continue to  search for that mirror-image self.  I will never give up hope.

 

If selected, I would not have served

One member of my retinue thought that we should offer me up to the Obamas as the First Dog, in the nation's service.  He thought I should do it for my country. Everyone else, me included, thought that was a terrible idea. 

It's nothing personal -- I'm a huge Obama supporter. But this is where I belong.  My family needs me here. 

Anyway, the guy who got the nod, Bo, seems to be doing a fine job.  Also, he's a puppy, and I think that the position is best-suited to a younger man.

Lambie: The early days

I think I'll start today by giving some background as to my earlier life.

My recorded history begins when I was approximately seven months old.  Some office workers downtown called Billy Criswell at Best Friends Rescue, to report that I and another dog  had been living under a dumpster in an alley for the past three or four months.  They knew, because they had been feeding us.  Billy cooked up some ground turkey, because he says that has the most appealing smell for dogs, and came downtown to lure us out.  Here's the picture he snapped of me and Seymour as we came toward him for the first time.  (I'm the one on the left.)

Billy took us back to his house.  Here's a photo of me in the car on the way.  I was a mess.  I looked like a cross between a Rastafarian and a bunny rabbit.  Along with other maladies, I had mange.  

I ended up spending several months boarding with a vet while I recovered.  By then my hair, which had had to be shaved, had grown out.

Billy posted a soulful photo of me on Petfinder.com, the dog adoption website, along with a flattering writeup that stated, "....Unbelievably and against all odds, [Lambie] turned out to be sweet, loving, affectionate, trusting and good with people and other dogs.  [He is an] all around perfect dog."  

Although he'd been calling me Chauncy, he made a strategic marketing decision to change my name in the Petfinders listing to Lambert, Lambie for short.  I think that suits me better, anyway.

Billy got a lot of interest from that Petfinders posting.  When he interviewed prospective families, I came too.    We soon found the right family for me.  This is a photo that Billy took of me leaving for my new home.