Lambiedog

Sleepover

I went on a sleepover at the Ons' house.

We packed my valise, loaded it into the car, and drove over to Sherman Oaks.

 

 

I've been there many times.  I know Teresa.  I know Roger.  I know their cat, Pumpy.  Also, Kevin was home from college for spring break.  We've spent some good times in the past carousing together. 

 So I ran right in and made myself at home, while Teresa and my owner reviewed my daily routine.

 

Then my owner left.

         

After I got over my shock, it turned out that life was pretty good at the Ons'.

I had affection, exercise, and, to keep things interesting, an adversary.

    In fact, I was treated like a king, and I responded in kind.  Roger and Teresa were a bit surprised when I insisted on joining them under the covers.

I did wonder when my owner would be coming back. 

Of course, I knew that, like the song says, she always comes back -- she never would forget me.

Visit to the country cousins

We went to Ojai to see the country cousins -- Leo, Ella, and Annie. I won't name names, but some of them are less friendly than others.  Overall, I felt a bit intimidated.

Aunt Margie put them outside while she took me inside and prepared a delicious meal of ground raw meat to tempt me out of my anorexia.

So thoughtful!

 

Then we went outside again for awhile.  I felt more relaxed in the open space.

When we came in, we stood around together hoping for more food. I wouldn't go so far as to call it a bonding moment, but at least it was an instant of common purpose.   It was a start.

 

Stepping lightly into 2013

    What will this year bring?

I hope, good things for all. 

Specifically I want to single out Hillary Clinton and my friend Kerry for good wishes health-wise.  Among canines, my friend Dexter comes to mind.  I hope his tumor will be controlled. 

As for me, Lambie, I feel a renewed vigor after losing several pounds in the course of my recent illness.  My plan for 2013 is to stay slimmed down, and to continue thinking deep thoughts. I'm also thinking it would be nice to acquire some talents.  For example, I'd like to learn to stop at curbs and wait for a signal before stepping into the street. 

Maybe also a showstopper trick would be good.  Perhaps I could learn to jump through a flaming hoop.  Though I don't want to get too ambitious.  Walking through a non-flaming hoop might be almost as impressive.

365 days.  That's a lot of licking opportunities for me.  I intend to appreciate them all.

Life after illness

    Now that I'm on the mend, I'm returning to my old life.

Much is the same:

  -Gorgeous sunsets

  -My unchanged need to launch myself vertically should my owner ignore me while socializing.

 
    Yet, in the food and fun department, there's an unpleasant new rigor.

I'm receiving tiny, boring meals multiple times a day, in deference to my delicate digestive tract.  Further, the snacking situation is terrible.  They've outlawed all treats, on doctor's orders.

Worst of all, my rawhides have been hidden from me.  My family used to be great at noticing when I wanted to play Fetch The Rawhide, or Chew the Rawhide, and at helping me to find my rawhide when I misplaced it.  Now they're pretending they don't notice what I'm trying to communicate. 

How could they be so obtuse now when they've been so empathic in the past?

They throw my mallard and I run after it dutifully, but it's just not the same. Mallard ≠ Rawhide.

Bright lights, big city

 I had an anxious moment alone in the car when we went out to Brentwood to return library books.

The restless, seething city disoriented me and put me on edge.  I felt like a dog in headlights.

 

But now I'm home, and feeling more centered.

Depressive philosopher cat gains acclaim

    A spate of recent news stories have focused on a Seattle cat by the name of Henri, who is the star of  some heavy videos on YouTube and now also has a book contract.

    As a fellow auteur, I celebrate Henri's renown, and applaud his achievements. 

    However, Henri's success does lead me to question my own accomplishments.  I wonder whether my humble blog might go viral if I were to become more existentialist in my musings.  Perhaps I am too cheerful and joyous.

New sibling idea is floated

    On our weekend walk with Teresa, we stopped to see the animals at a pet rescue.

I was not that interested, but my owner seemed activated.

 

Life is good as it is; why add another baby? Am I not enough dog for my family?

So much for security

 I received a gift rawhide.

   Not only was it an outstanding rawhide, of a shape and brand I don't usually get, but it also had great sentimental value, as it had been given to me by Kim and Willy.

    I wanted to keep it with me when I went out to the bluffs, but I knew other dogs would covet it. 

So I engaged protection to accompany me on my walk.  
 

As I had expected, interest in my prize was keen.

Unfortunately, my security detail was not strong at security.  Affable, yes.  But I'd look elsewhere if recruiting for the Secret Service. 

I got my owner's attention and we agreed to hightail it for home.

 

By the grace of God, I made it back to my front door with the rawhide still intact between my teeth.
 

I'm not sure that my bodyguard even knew I had left.

'Not posting enough,' they say

Here I am in the dumps, trying to think of new posts.  How do those Twitterers manage it?

        I am going to rise to the pressure.  I can't let my followers down.

        Stay tuned for more episodes of the Lambie show, coming soon.

Object permanence

                                Not only did Charlie leave recently; his sofa also left.

                Now there's a new sofa, but Charlie isn't on it.