Finnegan's World

Roll over

2012-01-02T10:39:00.000-08:00

I don't roll over. I am too dignified.

But people think that time rolls over. They divide time into chunks and subdivide them and then they number the chucks and subchunks keep track of them and set all kind of expectations based on the chunks.

I am well aware of the cyclical nature of life - sleeping follows hunting and chasing Ollie and various meals and treats, time after time after time. Night follows day. Cooler follows hotter. But I am not so interested in larger concepts like calendars and dreaming about the past, hoping for the future. I like to be Now.

I AM now. I make my Person's life more now than she and all her yoga classes could ever hope to manage. She can stand on one leg or upside down but she has trouble being now. And so it seems to be with people. They are always elsewhere. And I am always here.

So here I am now, on a hike, seeing swans and mergansers and ducks and a muskrat who is also unaware of the calendar but just knows that now it is warm and sunny and the ice is open and there are reeds to chew. I am looking ahead, not to an ideal of how I will be if I try harder next year, but to what is hiding in those bushes over there. Some other creature very much now. After all, we really only have right now.

On thin ice

2011-12-27T07:27:00.000-08:00

All you dogs out there who got winter coats for a holiday gift - green, plaid, hooded or otherwise - can throw them away. And be glad.

A streak of mildness has thinned the ice, greened the grass in protected places and made it possible to lounge outside in the sun if you have a built-in fur coat. Mine is getting thick and plushy and I am hoping a little Alaska salmon oil will make my fur shiny too.

Salmon, you ask? You may think that this little Red Dog feasts entirely on roasted turkey for holidays but this year I suffered both disappointment and joy, as life so often presents as close companions.

Once again I experienced the thrill of driving south in my Person's cramped car, my usual shotgun position taken by my Best Friend while I was told to remain in the back seat. Why doesn't my Best Friend ride in the back seat so I can be in front? As my Person points out, you can see just as well as from there. And his front half wouldn't drift forward between the seats like mine unaccountably does.

Anyway, I could tell by my internal GPS that we were nearing the house containing the Turkey Room. What excitement! We drove fast, I rested my outstretched chin on the stick shift, got yelled at, hung onto the back of the passenger seat breathing hard into my Best Friend's ear and tangling myself in his shoulder strap, and got yelled at some more. Finally we were There.

I ran inside! Waiting hands petted the rushing air wake as I raced by! I knew my target!

It was empty.

I ran into the kichen. There were people there, in festive garb. I had the date right.

I ran back into the Turkey Room.

Slowly the truth dawned as I sniffed the air. There was no turkey. Maybe I should have stayed home.

But no, there was a visiting sheltie at home, my erstwhile cousin, pointed head stuffed with as much fur inside as it was covered with outside, given to howling and barking. "Better off here," I thought and gamely started begging for whatever there was to be had.

And in truth, there was plenty to satisfy even one so disappointed as I. I got brunch bake morsels, bits of dropped monkey bread, kringle crumbs. I even ate some melon and blueberries.

Then we went for a hike and I nearly saved the day by flushing a turkey! I was so close and it was nearly as big as I, but it flew off before my Person could wring its neck. Not that she would have. She isn't much of a hunter.

Then I trotted on a lake. The ice was beginning to rot, just like in the spring, and the muskrat houses were softening. Maybe we could have roasted muskrat instead of turkey? I started digging. My Person, ever the kill-joy, stopped me.

Back to the house with the Turkeyless Room we went. Still no turkey. But a new wonderment was revealed. Smoked salmon, from Wasilla, Alaska. Can you even imagine such a thing? Two kinds! Salmon sticks! And a huge salmon side, all smoked and delicious. I had pieces from everyone in the room.

This was just an appetizer for the next meal. "These people are like me," I thought. "They eat to prepare to eat." So onward to mashed potatoes with cheese and bacon and tender cooked ribs. Salad for me? No way!

I went home a rounder and more experienced Little Red Dog. And I learned that there is more to holidays than turkey. There is companionship and fun, getting your ears scratched and sitting on your Best Friend's brother's shoulder so you can see out the window better to look for turkeys. And now I know there is salmon from Alaska!

Differences

2011-12-15T15:11:00.000-08:00

I saw something unusual today.

First I walked by a pug. It was wearing a bright green winter coat. Then I walked by a St. Bernard. It had its own fur coat on but it was wearing a sloppy but friendly sort of smile. My Person, always quick on the draw, said "How different dogs are from each other Finnegan." I stared at her, not wanting to encourage idle chatter. I was, in fact, hunting at the time.

But I started to think. Why would she expect dogs to be like each other? I am about as different as one can get, origins swirled in misty obscurity, unknown and unknowable. And then I thought "Eureka!" Clearly My Person was thinking about breeds of dogs and how alike they are to each other and how different they are from other dog breeds.

But does she think all dogs of a certain breed are alike? If you lined up 100 pugs, and they all looked very puggy and all wore green winter coats, they would still all be distinct individuals, with different histories and personalities. And so too with all animals. We are all different, wild and tame and domesticated and whatever category my stupid cat brothers fall into.

Some wild animals look more uniform than dogs, like squirrels for example. One gray squirrel in your yard looks much like any gray squirrel in my yard. But they are not the same squirrel - they have different pasts, different families, different personalities. And now and then one will even look alarmingly different. And as if my thoughts required an living example, a black squirrel appeared in the trees ahead of us.

People often prize things for looking like a type - a pug looking like a pug, plus or minus the embarrassing clothes. But sometimes something looks quite different from the expected and it has a special beauty because of this. Like the little black squirrel.

But two roses do not really look alike, and two branches each have their own curves and bends. It is worth paying attention and seeing things for what they are and perhaps you will end up surprised by what you see.

Cold

2011-12-09T17:14:00.000-08:00

My feet are cold.

The gentle glide from one season to the next went into some sort of icy skid this week and suddenly the ground is hard and the cold is so intense that the thin snow sounds like styrofoam when you walk on it. And sometimes you can only use three of your available feet because one has frozen up a bit. If that happens to my Person she's in big trouble, being somewhat more limited in the number of feet department.

The river has skinned over with ice, some shark skin looking sections, some sections like glass that mirror the walls of the sandstone gorge, and some sections like ragged doilies wheeling out from the shore. The sections run into each other and under each other, raising ridges and creating icy fissures as the hard surface strains against the flowing water that is just below. The river groans in the cold conflict between motion and stillness, sometimes sounding like a Greek hero brought down in battle, his bronze armor rent. Other times it sounds like an animal beginning to huff and howl and then cut short. Today I thought I was being followed, a wolf perhaps out on the ice, and at every groan I would stare and tremble and then I would bark.

My Person giggled and I decided to go back to hunting for squirrels.

Back home my Person doled out safflower and suet and thistle and peanuts to the cold-fluffed birds who eat from dawn until the yard grows dark. These tiny food-stoked sparks of life battle the night's cold with nary a warm couch or bed to rest on. If they ate as little as I am given they would fall, frozen, from their perches before the sun sank below the horizon. So it is just as well I will spend the evening half-buried in the afghan, under the cheery lamps, the radiator ticking and my Person reading the Iliad beside me while the sounds of the river groaning become the sounds of battles fought and heroes lost so many eons ago.

Thanksgiving

2011-11-28T18:44:00.000-08:00

The weather is shifting around a bit lately. One day there is a snowbound rabbit in the yard, wriggling his nose at the howling wind. A few days later people are wandering around in their shorts, kicking their toes into the still-green grass.

Today was a shorts day I guess, even though the bird bath water was pretty stiff this morning. Or maybe everyone ate so much food recently that they are burning up extra calories, producing so much body heat they don't need winter coats.

I wouldn't know. I never get enough to eat. No matter what my Person says as she parsimoniously ladles out my meager Super Supper.

Though last Thursday was a day to be thankful for. I visited my Best Friend's family, having received a Personal Invitation to come dine. Once I knew where my Person's car was heading I could hardly stay in the back seat. In fact, my front end kept finding itself in the front seat even though I was obediently being a Backseat Dog. But I knew where I was going and could hardly contain myself: I was going to the house with the Turkey Room!

It is so wonderful I can hardly believe it exists most of the time. Imagine this: a nice place, with windows and doors and sofas and beds and water dishes and people and all the other nice things about a home. Plus a special small room, adjacent to the kitchen, completely dedicated to the resting and carving of freshly roasted turkey! Maybe there are other purposes for the room, but none that interest me. I am only interested in its Turkey duties. What a room! It is a small bit of Red Dog Heaven.

Every time I go to this house I run inside and right on by the row of hands waiting to pet me. I head straight for the Turkey Room and survey its contents. If there is a turkey in there, waiting to be carved, my joy is unbounded. My tail will wag for hours on end for I know that these particular people, at this particular house, love to share their turkey with me.

During dinner I sidle around the table, moving from person to person, neatly avoiding a certain Person who does not approve. Bit by bit, mouthful by mouthful, I have the best meal of the year.

But I am an excellent guest. And this year I helped by cleaning up the turkey board after the meal was done.

I am not really sure why this wonderful dinner happens every fall. And I am not sure why my Person doesn't make a Turkey Room in our own house. I do know that it makes me count my blessings and remember that sometimes the cold wind blows an invitation to a fine feast my way. And for that I am very Thankful!

Transformation

2011-11-19T12:25:00.000-08:00

At dawn a pale sun wanly lit the morning world. I watched the morning unfold through the bedroom window, lying on plumped up pillows. Outside, the riotous birds began to breakfast, boisterous and contentious as birds, and people, only be can be. There is not much "sweet" in the bird world. Life is serious business, with the added glory and fun of being able to fly.

The morning crept on. The cats went from morning slumber to morning nap time. I looked out of the window and watched the day grow grim. It got darker instead of lighter. The wind came up but the trees did not throw their limbs about in wild autumnal abondon. Instead, they stood stiff and cold and they shivered from the base of their limbs to their outermost twigs.

And then the sleet began, small round balls of snow and ice packed together. And then flakes began to fall and the leaf piles swiftly disappeared into a bumpy white landscape. Evergreens grew a frosting of white and the leafless deciduous trees held crusty white ridges along the lengths of their slender branches.

The yard rabbit showed up in a great rush and found a new hiding spot under snow-bent branches. He snugged inside and is waiting out the winter's first gentle storm, peering out at a world that in one short day is completely transformed.

On this day

2011-11-16T14:31:00.000-08:00

On this day the wind and the squirrels conspire
To knock over the bird feeder
The dog and sparrows eat together, nosing though the leaves.

On this day the wind pushes leaves back up from the ground
They land on branches
Like birds that forgot it was passed time to fly away south.

On this day a small red dog runs up the bottom of a rocky gorge
A small red fox awakens
Steals over the gorge top and disappears among umbered leaves.

On this day the last mulberry leaves have fallen
Leaving only buckthorn trees
Green against the soft fawn of oak and maple and cottonwood.

On this day the sun paints the other side of the river in ochre light
Snow dances in the air but does not fall
The red dog runs through leaves that whisper of his passing.

On this day the robin's knocking call announces evening
Crows argue with their kin
A hawk takes the day's last sail over the thick pulse of the gray river.

A break

2011-10-25T09:12:00.000-07:00

If you are lucky enough to have a Person, you might be extra lucky enough to have one who will drive many miles in a cramped but fuel-efficient car to take you somewhere interesting for a walk. And she might take the money she saved on gas and buy you a nice item off the dollar menu at MacDonalds for your super supper. And she might rent you a little cabin to sleep in over night that has a little porch and yard and in the morning you can sniff the scent of red squirrel feet or gray fox feet or wolf feet or bear feet or even moose feet while the sun rises up over Lake Superior and ravens call gruffly as they fly over your little red head. And she might take you to Grand Marais and share a cinnamon-sprinkled donut with you while people admire your size and shape and brown eyes and ask about your origins. And she might take you hiking in a ferny grotto and clamber up the sides of a rocky outcropping with you and sit on the top of a bluff looking out over at the Poplar River and share an apple with you. And she might make you wait in the car while she eats with your Best Friend but she might bring you a piece of fresh bluefin herring to eat for a snack.

I am an extra lucky Red Dog and that is what I did this weekend for fun!

What are you looking for?

2011-10-09T17:28:00.000-07:00

Let me tell you, chances are you will find something different.

I was just out on a little jaunt with my Person leashed up behind me and we were both looking for foxes. Or maybe baby racoons up in the tree branches. Or an eagle.

But instead we found a Lost Dog.

We were tromping through our favorite oak savanna, and we passed a group of leaf watchers. There was a dog with them. But when we passed them the dog followed us. "Is this your dog?" my Person bellowed. "No," they bellowed back.

My Person looked at the dog and said, "I hope you are not a Lost Dog."

The dog followed us a bit and then it ran ahead. "Aha!" my Person said. She thought the Lost Dog's Person was up ahead and the Lost Dog was not lost after all. But there was no Person up ahead. We stopped and the Lost Dog stopped too. Then it ran toward us and kept going back where we had first met it.

"Aha!" my Person said again, thinking the Lost Dog's Person was really behind us, not ahead of us. So we turned and followed the Lost Dog. But it turned too and ran back to us and then a little ahead. It really was a Lost Dog. So my Person called it, trying all sorts of names like "pup" and "dog" and "hey you." Finally she clapped her hands and yelled "Come!" and the Lost Dog ran right up and sat down and waited for one of my treats.

It was an old dog, brown and short and grizzled and pleasant. It had a collar but it didn't have any tags that said what its name was or its Person's phone number was or anything useful. (Now I remember why I have to wear those jangly things, since I was once a Lost Dog.) It also did not have a leash. And I needed to use mine to keep the number of Lost Dogs in this story to one.

Now my leash attaches to my sporty harness and my collar is mainly a holder for my tags. Every now and again my Person does something handy and on this occasion she fashioned a short little leash by slipping my collar though the Lost Dog's collar.

Off we went, my Person bent sideways to hang onto the short leash of the Lost Dog and I sped along on her other side stopping to sniff and snort and entertain myself. "Stop that," My Person growled.

We traveled along like this until we got to the main road and my Person found another Person to help us. She had a cell phone, being a better prepared sort of Person than my Person. And she called Animal Control, which does not help lost animals on Sunday nights. They suggested letting the Lost Dog go loose again!!

So the helpful and prepared Person called her husband and he came to meet us and he brought a real leash. I got my collar back and the Lost Dog trailed home after them to spend the night in a more comfortable place than an oak savanna. He is there now with a dish of water and a bowl of food and a blanket to sleep on. And in the morning those nice people will find that Lost Dog's real home and he won't be Lost anymore.

And my Person and I will go back to looking for foxes and not adventures.

Follow me where I go

2011-10-04T19:06:00.000-07:00

Sometimes my Person lets me run free, like a wild thing. And I am a wild thing when I run free. I tear through ravines, across sandy beaches, into the woods. I have even run right up a tree trunk that was reclining a bit.

My nose is even faster than my legs and I sniff and snort as I run, skimming over fallen logs, diving into bushes, tongue and ears flapping, hot on the shifting trails of creatures with stinky feet. When I catch the scent of something I might like to hunt I bark and yelp as loudly as I can. I create quite a commotion.

But most of the time when we set off on an adventure, my Person hooks herself up to me with a leash. One end attaches to my handsome red collar and the other is clutched in her hand. And I lead her about. I think she is prone to getting lost and needs me to find the way for her. She certainly lacks my discerning nose and couldn't sniff her way home if her life depended on it. So she must follow me, attached one to another like mittens to an idiot string. She calls this "Taking the dog for a walk," but we all know what the real story is.

I might have more fun on my walks if I weren't lumbered with a great clumsy and slow Person. But sometimes it is nice to have someone along to share interesting experiences. Today, for instance, I discovered a red fox curled in a neat circle on a pile of fallen yellow leaves, dozing in the late afternoon sunlight that peaked through the trees. And I was happy to have my Person along to share this with. Of course I would have been happier if she had unhooked the leash so I could chase the fox around. But instead we watched a bit and I whined my regrets and we left the fox in peace.

And perhaps because I didn't chase the fox it won't be scared of fierce Red Dogs and the next time I take my Person on a walk we might have a fox sighting to share again.

More goodbyes

2011-10-02T08:49:00.000-07:00

I might as well give in to my Person's lachrymose mood about the seasonal change and say farewell to another summer companion.

I am a pretty swell creature, but even I realize how phenomenal is this little bird. It is so petite and so full of bravado, so hungry and so speedy. Wait, am I talking about myself again? No, I am talking about ruby throat hummingbirds, our tiny summer-long visitors, who sup nectar from my Person's flowers that she buys just for them, and who bring their young ones to my yard as they grow into tiresome teens and who fuss and bother and zoom about the yard with their buzzing wings and sonic chitters.

They are endlessly fascinating to watch, sitting on the clothes line, and sticking out their tongues to catch passing gnats and scratching their tiny chins with one little foot. From their looping pendulum courting dances to their mad aerial bombing routines, they are proof that there is always something interesting to watch if you go outside and sit quietly. Maybe it will be a spider that creeps out or a shy sort of bird or a cloud that looks like a white version of a Red Dog. Maybe it will be a squirrel that is all red or maybe, if you are lucky and have lots of red flowers, it will be a hummer!

going, going, not gone yet

2011-09-29T17:53:00.000-07:00

My Person is so very sentimental and is practically going around the backyard saying goodbye to the flowers. It seems that it is officially autumn and the flowers are past peaky and getting in short supply.

Some of my back yard companions are getting scarce too. This cute little fellow was a regular for a while this summer even though my yard was chock full of men with power tools for months and months, or at least weeks and weeks, sending up great choking clouds of sawdust, leaving the gate open and interfering with my job, which is to be in the yard doing what I want whenever I want. (But I got a porch out of it so I won't complain too loudly.)

Anyway, the little Red Squirrel packed it in after a while and moved down the road a bit. I am left with the much more common and imperturbable gray squirrels and they will be around all winter too. But it was fun having this guy's almost constant presence and a new sound in the back yard as he chipped his bossy warning cries from the treetop and went about his business gathering food. And napping.

Ah, languid days...I think there are still some to come and there are still sights to see in the yard.

Transitions

2011-09-21T18:00:00.000-07:00

I am feeling a bit moody. I am not very good with transitions. And it is a transitional time of year, the hot and steamy summer suddenly giving way to a chilly world. Leaves are turning colors, birds are flocking. Geese are practicing their great aerial V's. My hiding place on the deck is not so sunny and cheerful as it was just a short time ago.

I think enduring transitions easily requires perspective. And that just isn't my strong suit. I am a here and now kind of dog. If I thought about it, I would know that sunny days follows gray days, just as gray days follow sunny ones. And that chasing a squirrel will be just as fun tomorrow as it was yesterday, even if I don't see one today at all. Or that if stealing crackers two weeks ago was bad then stealing them last week was bad too and so will stealing them next week. But I just don't think that way. My Person says I don't think much at all, most of the time.

And generally that is true. I just am.

But today I am thinking, mainly because the rain is keeping me from the active life. And this is what I think: I want it to be sunny now, and for a squirrel to run by. I want crackers to slip off the counter when I walk into the kitchen. And mostly I want us all to be forever young.

Doga

2011-09-11T18:12:00.000-07:00

I try to stay current. Sometimes I am so current I am ahead of myself. And I am always curious how a country-dog-at-heart like me matches up against dogs in faster sorts of cities. Like in Hong Kong or Boca Raton, for example, life-in-the-fast-lane places.

Well, someone emailed my Person a link to a story (I don't really know what any of that means, I am just repeating what I heard her say) about the latest thing, called Doga. It is yoga classes for people and their dogs. And there are classes like that in Hong Kong and Boca Raton and maybe even in your town!

Excuse me while I snort.

Since when does a dog need a yoga class? I am demonstrating right now how dogs like me, athletic ones anyway, can wiggle and bend and stretch in all sorts of directions all at once! Now my Person attends a yoga class every few days and she sometimes performs her asanas at home. She even does one called Downward Facing Dog! Let me tell you, a dog in that pose is irresistibly cute. A person in that pose is both resistible and very awkward looking. And fairly red in the face.

I admit that dogs are naturally designed for something like yoga. The idea that we have to go to a class to learn this is ridiculous. People should just do as we dogs do instead. First, give up the whimsical notion of arms and grow four legs instead. Much better for speed and balance. Next, roll around on the ground and wiggle every part of your body. Don't chant or hum or breathe through one nostril. Instead, snort and sneeze while you are rolling. Then stand up and shake all those parts until you feel excellent all over. Then wag your tail and you are set.

All I can say to those dogs in Boca, with their yoga mats slung in the back of their Person's sports car, is I am sorry for them. And now I am going to roll in the grass a bit more. And I am not even going to use a mat!

Roadtrip

2011-09-06T09:15:00.000-07:00

There are many ways to make a living. One is to have a Person to provide for you and take you on road trips to Wisconsin. Another is to be furry and smallish and like to swim and eat leaves and have an independent riparian life with no Person at all to talk to or put your meal in a dish or provide furniture and a porch for you.

I personally think it is a toss-up.

I did go on a road trip this weekend, to visit my human grandparents. On the way we stopped along the Fox River, what a nice name that is, and this odd fellow swam out of the river right in front of me and started eating cottonwood leaves! He is a muskrat. And he came closer and closer and he didn't care at all that someone as ferocious as I am was standing so close, held back by the slimmest of leashes. I will tell you what DID scare him. A huge sturgeon bumped into him from behind and the muskrat swam off and I jumped a bit too! I have never seen such a large fish.

We also saw two foxes that weren't rivers but were running jumping animals, a coyote and many sandhill cranes. But none of them got this close to me so maybe they all were shyer or slyer than the little muskrat.

All of this is what is great about road trips. No matter what you start out with as a plan, and that is probably just a destination, other interesting things appear along the way. And those interesting things you didn't plan give you something to think about when you are back at home, lying on your porch.

Dog porch

2011-08-30T08:13:00.000-07:00

I thought you'd like to see my new porch. I am probably going to be spending a lot of time out here, so it is a good thing I like it.

Last night my Person was out doing some errands, none of which benefited me, so I thought I would make my own luck. I went hunting. Indoors. And I found, carelessly lying about on top of a counter I am not supposed to be able to reach, in a grocery bag I am not supposed to bother with, a bag of ginger snaps.

Now I am kind of a ginger snap as well so I helped myself.

There were way too many cookies for me to eat right then and there so I decided to stash some for later, in a better hiding place than where I originally found them. I tried to hide them under the pillows in the bed, but then I remembered my Person always sleeps there at night and she might just find my prize. So then I hid them under the afghan that adorns the couch. I carefully balled the afghan up over the cookie package in a casual-looking manner, so as to not draw any attention, and then I waited for my Person to come home. As soon as I heard the back door open I dashed out into the yard to hide, just in case I miscalculated and my Person had been dreaming of munching ginger snaps the entire time she was out on her errand.

Unfortunately, my dashing out the door somehow signals to my Person that I feel guilty about something. (I don't understand how she gleans these insights into my cunning mind.) Also, I accidentally knocked some other stuff out of the grocery bag when I was grabbing the cookies and she cleverly read that as a clue that I had done Something Bad.

Soon enough she found my cookies. And she didn't believe that I had set a trap for chipmunks and therefore was being helpful. She just made me sit on the porch and think about what I had done. What I really thought about was how I could talk my Best Friend into sneaking the cookie bag out of the garbage and into my toy box. My Person NEVER looks in there.

Anyway, if we had a dog house I would be in it now. But we don't. We just have a dog porch. And here I sit.

A slipping-away summer

2011-08-23T07:05:00.000-07:00

How the time flies, even when you are NOT having fun. Though right now I am.

I am high above the Mississippi, pretending the world is mine, even the eagle that just flew below me holding a big fat fish in his talons. It reminds me of the snack I will get when I am home again, not nearly so large, but not wriggling either.

I have been in a bit of a hiatus from my creative life. Sometimes you have to attend to other things and my job as a guard dog has grown almost burdensome. For several months now, my Person and Best Friend have undertaken to expand my little house into a bigger sort of house. Day after day, crews of workers have needed to be barked at, safety-sniffed and supervised.

First the roof was torn right off of my home and one day I ran up the steps and into the open-air platform with carpenters chasing me. Many a day a carpenter would let me right out of my little yard but I stayed close by and didn't run off as I would have in my less serious days.

Now the house is mostly finished and the cats have the run of the new space but I will admit only to you I am a bit afraid of going to the new upstairs. But my solace is my new back porch and from this secret and shady place I can watch the birds alight, the chipmunks sneak and the squirrels dash over the fence. Sometimes I spring out from under the porch chair and roar at them. I even lurk here in the dark of the evening, guarding against raccoons and evil-doers.

I also have a new duty: scaring away the Cooper's hawk who is new to the world this summer and has taken up target practice in my back yard. The only good news is that his aim is bad. The bad news is he is relentless. Unless I am around.

And so my summer has gone, constantly at work and adjusting to new circumstances, taking on responsibilities. I fear I am no longer the pup I used to be.

I will ponder that more. Later. Right now I am going to chase a squirrel.

What has he been up too?

2011-02-01T10:14:00.000-08:00

Or so my Best Friend inquires, about me.

Hiding for one thing! This has been a snowy winter and the snow banks have been hiding me and most other walking dogs from view. My Auntie VeeCee says that it looks like people are out walking leashes everyday.

Also I was hiding up north in the BWCA for a brief time and ran around on the frozen lake as wild and free as any wolf would dare. Except I got treats when I came into the cabin.

Now I have an extra reason to hide. My friend and nemesis Tasha of the Furious Fur has come to stay for a few weeks. She is inside right now while I am master of everything else and King of the Snows. Tasha seems to like the snow too and she seems to think she has as much right to the yard as I do. So I had better go enjoy this for a bit longer before I busted down to the short-haired half of a barking twosome again.

A-bed

2010-12-05T08:11:00.000-08:00

Don't think there are visions of sugar plumbs dancing in my head. Maybe sugar squirrels.

I have taken a long break from my writing. I have been so busy organizing my Person's life and making sure she gets out on walks, keeping the ever-errant Ollie in line and most lately, supervising work crews who are transforming our little house by the river into a little house by the river with a modern heating system and slightly more room for cat-swinging. But only slightly more.

The days have flown by, the seasons change. The bright green grass is still bright green but it is deep beneath a layer of Finn-colored leaves (someone forgot to rake) and a deeper layer of cold, white snow.

And I am deep beneath a layer of blankets. This week I sustained an injury and my Person had to drive me to my wacky Vet in a slippery snow storm. It seems I was guarding the house against mail carriers and UPS drivers too vigorously and now I have a bulging disc in my neck.

During my recuperation my Person is responsible for providing soothing neck rubs and hot compresses, and she needs to get on the stick because my neck is a bit cold right now. She made me a little neck warmer by putting some dry rice in a sock and microwaving it. I love how it feels and might try to snack on it when I get better. She also has been giving me tiny pills stuck in peanut butter globs. I love taking peanut butter medicine!

Well, don't mumble out loud while you are reading. Some of us need to rest now.

Bad habits

2010-08-31T20:11:00.000-07:00

Nah, I didn't pick up any bad habits. I just picked up my sheltie cousin's chew toy. Actually I guess I kind of stole it.

Maybe stealing is a bad habit.

There have been some bad habits on display around here. My car, which carries me on adventures with my Person, and to the dog park, and even more importantly, on trips to the store to buy my Super Supper, had its battery taken by some people indulging in their bad habit of stealing. Plus they cut all of the electrical wiring and that is just plain mean.

I don't know why I didn't sense what was happening with our little car. If only I had indulged in my bad habit of barking out the window I would have scared those bad people away. But I was indulging in my bad habit of snoring instead.

Well, two bad habits don't make a good one. Maybe that is a bad habit - making up sayings that don't make sense!

On the rocks

2010-08-19T09:59:00.001-07:00

I know, it has been a long time. My Person has not been helping me much, busy coping with some sort of personal affliction. She looks like a lamprey bit her on the leg and believe it or not she had it done on purpose by a doctor, a remedy of some sort. I won't be visiting that doctor any time soon!

I did get a very short vacation in on the North Shore, land of wolves and bear and moose and visiting little red dogs. That was quite interesting, especially in the sniffing and running department.

Then came a great heatwave and we all lay low for days and more days and the only relief was walking to the Mississippi River for a big swim. Then back to sleeping the day away under the picnic table. My Person would have joined me there for a nap but she takes up too much room.

Last week she deserted me and I stayed at my frenemy Tasha's house for a sleepover. Tasha treated me very well as long as I stayed away from her Person and her furniture and her dish and so on. I did get to stay next to Tasha's Person's Person, Gary, and he helped me get through a very thundery and lightningy night, as I was very afraid. He is now my second Best Friend, right after my first Best friend.

Just thinking about all of that puts me in mind of napping, so that is what I think I will do.

Get happy

2010-07-03T08:18:00.000-07:00

It is always good to see a friendly face when you are far from home. Yesterday my Person and I were on the road for hours and hours on our way to hang an art show at a gallery and then on the road hours and hours to get back home again. I am sure there were many other friendly faces around but they were whizzing by too fast for me to see and this friendly face was not moving at all.

Today I am not traveling by car. I am traveling in my dreams instead. It is hard to get your naps in when you are stuffed in a tiny Toyota and the sun is beaming right on your red rump and the car is bumping and swerving in the high prairie wind and your Person is howling "Summertime" to keep from falling asleep herself. I have a few hours of sleep to to put in before I am back up to "full" on my nap gauge.

But, if you aren't spending the day napping and you want to see a friendly face instead, just head west on that big old highway and at some point you will see one.

Made in the shade

2010-06-20T07:17:00.000-07:00

Here is my variation on the dog and chair routine. Sitting on the chair usually makes me the tallest dog around. But today I wanted to be the coolest dog around. So under the chair I go.

It is quite nice under there. It is shady and damp and I am at chipmunk level. I can rest and hunt all at the same time. My Person sits above me reading her book and she sometimes puts her lunch dish down right next to me because she forgets all about me when she is reading. And the sun-loving bugs bug her instead of me.

There are no drawbacks that I can see. Unless I suddenly dart out at one of the young and foolish chipmunks heading for my bird feeder and accidentally bonk my head on a chair leg.

Otherwise it is the most peaceful way of surveying your realm that I know of. If it is a sunny day in your yard you might want to try it too.

Always ready

2010-06-18T20:47:00.000-07:00

There are so many great things about being a dog, a little red one in particular. For instance there is attire.

Take me, for example. I am always suitably dressed for any occasion. You don't have to wait around for me to get ready. I am, always. No primping, no adjusting, no changing these white socks for some other.

Today my uber outfit was put to the test. First there was cat-chasing. I woke up appropriately dressed and pounced on Ollie before the sleep was out of my eyes. Next, a morning meal and did I need to change? Not on your nelly. Next, some very dull waiting-around time, but no wardrobe change was needed for that little nap I took to while away the hours. Then - big excitement - a car ride!! I was ready in a flash. Less than a flash. On the trip I visited a native plant store and was appropriately attired in my native garb. Next, a stop at the ice cream shop and it just happens that my native wear is appropriate for dining out! Then a dip or two in the beautiful St. Croix River and turns out my native-plant-viewing, eating-out outfit is, not surprisingly, the perfect swim suit.

Later in the day I watched my Person dig around in the garden and we walked along the river and I ate Super Supper and sat around in my very own lawn chair watching birds and bugs and my Person all toiling. And still I was dressed in the very thing I went to sleep in last night.

Meanwhile my Person was, by turns, dressy, muddy, sweaty, rumpled, absolutely dirty, partially cleaned up and back to rumpled and there were at least three costume changes for her this day.

I get tired just looking at her. And so does the washing machine. And while she spends time cleaning and changing I can just sit here and think about all the other great things about being a dog.

Sweet scents

2010-06-06T07:29:00.000-07:00

Summer is sweet. Flowers bloom on trees, shrubs and perennials in my Person's yard. Nectar flows and is lapped hungrily by that wise guy hummingbird and its fellows. So many kinds of bees - giant bumbles and all sorts of medium and teeny tiny ones - visit different flowers according to their body size to gather pollen. There are young birds trying their voices out and their parents' patience as well, hungrier than I could ever be.

The earth is humid and rich with smells. I found a wonderful new smell at the beach: aged carp. I told the flies to move on over and I rolled on that fish and bulldozed my neck across the silvery scales and spread that perfume deep into my fur. How appropriate for a day when the next scheduled activity was a visit to my favorite outdoor fish restaurant!

Until my Person got a hold of me. "Stop that," she roared ferociously. Then she started sniffing me. "Good," I thought, "she's acting more like a dog, a step toward wisdom finally. She'll appreciate me now." But oh no. She sniffed and her nose wrinkled up and she intoned the words I hate but so rarely hear: "You are going to need a bath."

And off we went to the sweet-smelling backyard and she hosed me down and washed me! I smelled like a fish that had been shampooed. So she washed me again! It was awful. But it was that or stay home from the restaurant and sleep in the backyard until I smelled more like a little red dog than a little dead fish.

I got my reward - lots of snacks and even more attention from the other restaurant patrons. I am glad they were smiling and petting me instead of wrinkling their noses and staying far away from me.

If it is true that a rose is a rose, then it follows that a fish is a fish. But when it comes to going out for dinner it is better for a dog to be more like a rose and less like a fish.

I never!

2010-05-28T19:16:00.000-07:00

There are some things that are too rude for even a dog to do. Apparently this little bird isn't as delicate about etiquette. True, we dogs may do all sorts of other rude things but in all my short days I have never seen two dogs face off and stick their tongues out at each other.

Maybe we don't know how to.

But this little pipsqueak with an attitude spent the evening in my backyard, slurping sugar water and making funny kissy noises and sticking its tongue out. My Person says it was catching bugs to eat but it sure looked like it was looking at me all the while. And maybe at you too.

I am going to practice this move - maybe it will be a superior way to be top dog at the dog park. I won't need to chase or bark or scrap or defend my honor. From now on I will just stick out my tongue. I wonder if my frenemy Tasha can stick out hers?

Patience

2010-05-16T19:33:00.000-07:00

I can be a very patient dog. And I have been getting a lot of practice lately. I think I am some sort of regional model for patience in dogs.

Not that I want to be. Oh no, I'd much rather be running around, chasing down my enemies and frenemies alike, or setting off on adventures and riding shot gun as is appropriate for a valiant and watchful dog like me.

But no, I sit and wait by the gate and my Person buzzes around with a frantic manner, doing goodness knows what useless things and tapping away on her keyboard. She seems to have forgotten the things that make life worthwile, like lying in the grass and snapping at bees, napping in the sun, chasing squirrels, stealing snacks....though I think she has easier access to snacks than I do. Then again I always find snacks on walks and she never does.

What she lacks in natural wisdom she make up in diligence and at some point she always remembers that it is time to walk the little red dog. Remember him? He's waiting by the gate, very patiently.

Take me for a ride in your car, car

2010-04-13T14:30:00.000-07:00

Oh boy! What Adric hates, I love - car rides!
Here I am off to Crex Meadows
What could make a dog happier? It turned out to be a crisp and dry spring day, and the meadows are beginning to fill with life: some animals passing through on migration and others that are year-long residents but sleep all winter or spend more time hidden in the snow and ice. Swans, geese and ducks were a-sailing with otter and muskrats and many beaver. There was a loon bathing while swimming, a practice I follow. Harriers, the sleek hunters of marsh and field, swooped low in their aerial prowls. There were soaring and sitting eagles and stalking cranes and a porcupine crawling out on a branch. There were timber wolf footprints all along the roads and bear were there too but were hiding from us. Deer crashed from ditch to ditch, sparrows called, doves cooed and snipe whizzed overhead as the sun finally set on a long day.

Visiting Crex was wonderful and I was able to sneak a few hitch hikers in the car before we left - wood ticks! Those I didn't keep for myself I shared with my Person and my Best Friend. I can only say they are not gracious gift-receivers.

And now the part that made me happier than anything else. I got a double cheeseburger for my supper! Travel is a wonderful thing is all I will say.

2010-04-04T16:07:00.000-07:00

Well, when it comes down to it, who cares about tulips! It is spring and if the wild flowers are up so am I. And the wild flowers are up - the bloodroot flowers were waving their petals at the sun today.

What a joy this time of year is! The birds that flew south for the winter are slowly winding their way up the mighty Mississippi River valley. Phoebes and bluebirds are back and there are freshly hatched little insects flying around for them to eat - just in time dining! And speaking of dining I ate my share of greening grass today.

Tomorrow I start my annual bluebird trail monitoring duties. Good thing I don't have to wear a uniform because I filled out a little this winter. I think that Tasha stole some of my exercise time. But look at me and my exercise program - I'm going to roll and shake until I am in summer shape!

Free and easy

2010-03-25T13:02:00.000-07:00

After the storm comes the calm. Tasha went home to her People and I have to admit, I got bored. I love chaos when it comes right down to it. And Tasha is chaos with lots of fur attached.

Sure, I had the couch to myself and no one else is in line to clean the cat dishes but me, me, me. But things did seem a bit slow after two months of having a roomie.

Luckily my Best Friend showed up and we all went on vacation. And here I am watching some chaos - the water at Gooseberry Falls was falling, and falling hard. Imagine - the last time I was there I trotted out onto the very rocks that are now covered by the crashing torrent.

We stayed in a little cabin that had the best smelling lawn. And then I found out a wolf pack had been hanging around - bet I scared them away.

But vacation is a fading dream and the snow in all gone in my back yard. The spring sun is trying to warm up the sleepy plants but all it is doing is making me a bit sleepy too. Time for a sunny nap where the snow used to be. Maybe I'll wake up when the tulips do.

Jealous

2010-03-05T09:00:00.000-08:00

There seems to be a key personality in any family group. I am happy for my Person to play that role, but lately I have to come way down on the list.

I think I am a little jealous of all the attention that others are getting. That Hurricane of Hair, Princess Tasha, gets treats every time she comes inside, she's allowed to bark whenever she wants and she gets chewy things whenever she spends time in her little kennel. Thank goodness she's packing her curling iron and heading back to her home tomorrow - I want to be top dog again!

And then there is the ongoing melodrama All About Adric. Sheesh, he goes for more car rides now than I do. I love car rides! My only solace is he doesn't seem to enjoy himself and he always has to leave the house in a carrier bag, howling all the way. He just doesn't know how to have fun.

The strange thing is that when he comes back from one of his car rides he always has a different color bandage on his leg. Today's color is royal purple. He looks pretty dopey but I know better than to laugh at him. My Person takes his side in all interspecies disputes, and today she even let him finish the milk in her cereal dish. That is one of my other favorite things, handed over to the Man in Bandages.

Maybe I am seeing a little green (actually purple). But I hope one of these days spring will be here, I will be the sole lord of my warm and sunny yard, Adric will quit being the patient that tries my patience and I will be the only one who rides shotgun in my Person's car.

United in fear

2010-03-01T07:27:00.000-08:00

No trying to be tallest today. Today I am just trying to get off the floor and so is Tasha. My Person has been on some sort of a cleaning rampage, and all of us four-legged folks are a little afraid of the vacuum cleaner. Not that we see it that much ordinarily, but there is a lot of extra dog fur, suspiciously long fur I might add, floating around lately.

Next, my Person did the weirdest thing yet. (And that is saying something.) She washed the floors with tea. I have long advocated having food on the floor but it never occurred to me to spread beverages around. My Person said it was sort of an old wife's remedy for dull floors. Well, she is older than she once was but I don't think that explains this behavior. The tea seemed to have no effect other than to erase all the little dog footprints and to scent the entire house like a tea shop.

I prefer the scent of pet food shops myself.

But if this sort of madness is to continue I am going to suggest my Person clean the floor with a beverage we all enjoy. Maybe vanilla milkshake?

Tallest dog wins

2010-02-21T09:44:00.000-08:00

There are no equals in the animal kingdom. Or so says Pico's vet.

People try equality all the time and they make a right mess of it. Not too many people are really willing to sacrifice their own higher positions to level the playing field for others.

In the dog realm we have a similar tough time being equals. And while being Equality Dog is almost impossible there are lots of ways to become Top Dog. Being the snarkiest can work. Being the toughest and most aggressive does as well but you sure are going to lose that congeniality contest and your Person will be giving you the evil eye every time you act like a bully toward another dog. Some dogs think barking the loudest is the best way. (I've tried it, and I just get yelled at.) Being able to run the fastest will get you out of trouble but it won't really get you ahead. So I have come up with the best way of all: I am going to be the tallest dog around.

It seems the Barking Hairdo of a Tasha is just not one of nature's able jumpers. But I am. So whenever that Tasha is around and starts competing with me, I'll get taller. And to do this all I need is some handy furniture.

Believe me, my Person has lots of furniture around to help me. Maybe she doesn't like lying on, sitting on and eating on the floor as much as I do. Or maybe she's trying to be taller than me! Maybe I need to find a new way to be Top Dog.

Good dog

2010-02-19T15:04:00.000-08:00

No matter how good I try to be, I seem to get into hot water a lot. But right now I am not in hot water. I am in cold water. And the water is so cold that, like Bambi once observed, it is stiff!

This is me on my usual constitutional along the Mississippi River. Only this time I am in the river. Or on the river. Whichever. Up to my neck at any rate.

All I know is I am going to remind my Person of this the next time I accidentally get caught eating the homemade bread left out to cool, or knocking over the garbage, or eating Ollie's breakfast before he finishes or, well, being a dog. After all, who can be mad at a dog who can walk on water?

Détente

2010-02-16T11:11:00.000-08:00

What do you get when you add fresh snow drifts and bright sun and two cabin-feverish dogs together? You get some fun! Tasha and I forgot our household rivalries and got down to some serious dog play in the backyard today.

It is at times like this when I think Tasha is pretty okay, if too hairy. And she probably thinks the same of me, except for the too hairy part. If only we could always be like this but sometimes I am too rough and sometimes Tasha is too sensitive. And sometimes I am too sensitive and Tasha is too territorial. Sometimes we both forget how much more fun it is to be friends than foes.

Maybe we both have been hanging out with humans too much!

Pathetique

2010-02-09T11:59:00.000-08:00

Adric continues to hold the center of attention around here. He is getting around too well if you ask me and has resumed his former role of King of the Hill and Lord all He Surveys. From his new height he can survey quite a bit, even if all of him doesn't quite fit up there on his perch.

I am reminded almost continually of how lucky I am to be a dog. I am sturdy and fast, I eat things I find and I rumble with other dogs, but I am not prone to the kind of things that get cats in trouble. I do not jump into boxes and I do not aim myself at open dresser drawers and I do not fly from counters and I do not leap up into linen cabinets. I generally stay on the ground floor. Believe me, there are plenty of interesting possibilities in life without launching oneself UP.

My Person sure is lucky she has me. And only one Adric!

Tasha's Sense of Snow

2010-02-03T08:26:00.000-08:00

One of the good things about Tasha is she is so furry. One of the bad things about Tasha is she is so furry. I, of course, figure I am just right in the fur department - a little thinner in the summer, a little thicker in the winter, never long enough to step on, tangle-free and with a built-in cleaning setting (called "run fast!").

Tasha causes fur piles to collect in the corners and on the couch and my Person is spending more time with the vacuum cleaner these days, but the good news is that Tasha can stay outside for ever so long. No matter which part of herself she sets down in the snow - feet, backside, chest, forehead even - she has a nice protective blanket of Tasha fur between herself and the cold, cold ground. Who knows? Maybe Tasha is solid fur!

All I know is that I get to snooze peacefully in my little bed (whenever Adric the Wounded isn't already ensconced there) knowing that the backyard is vigilantly protected from squirrels. This is like a little vacation from my job as guard dog, and I am spending it much like Tasha's own People are spending theirs - relaxing in a warm place.

Stairway to heaven

2010-01-30T18:59:00.000-08:00

Good ol' Adric used to be sort of like Tigger - you know, with a top half made out of rubber and a bottom half made out of springs. (And if you ask me, he is just as annoying as Tigger.)

But Adric is having trouble being springy these days. As a matter of fact he is under doctor's orders NOT to spring. The problem is Adric is a cat. And he is only happy when he is up on top of something. And in the winter, that means up on top of the hot water radiator.

Now in the summer when it is hot, all the cats mope around and throw themselves on the floor and spread out as thin as they can, looking aggrieved and moaning weakly because they are too warm. But in the winter all they want to do is toast themselves until they are piping hot! (Only fools try to figure cats out.)

Adric can't make it up to his favorite hot spot and so my Person decided to help him out by building him these great stairs and then covering them with comfy fleece. Now Adric can haul himself and his new bright green cast up to the cat roasting area and down again without doing himself another injury. The stairs are so sturdy I can walk on them too. Even though I have been told not to.

I wonder if my Person would build me some stairs for the places I have trouble getting to, like the cupboard where my food is, or the top of the refrigerator where my treats are? I'm not going to hold my breath - it seems to me that the things I want are frowned upon but whatever Adric wants, Adric gets.

Seeking warmth

2010-01-28T08:44:00.000-08:00

There is this old saying that the January sun is a warming one, making the cold days of winter bearable. For in the far north, sunshine and extreme cold seem to be winter's favorite pairing. But it is hard to consider January sun a warming influence when it is below zero outside and the birds are puffed up like feather dusters and the snow sounds like styrofoam when you walk on it and the hairs on your chinny chin chin freeze into a frost beard while you root around on the ground for the interesting edibles that nature always provides for a keen-eyed and keen-nosed little red dog.

However, if you are in your Person's house and find a patch of January sun shining away, it is indeed warming. And here I will lie, warming myself and finding that I agree with that old saying so long as I am safely inside!

Poor kitty

2010-01-23T07:53:00.000-08:00

My cat brother Adric has some nicknames - notably Badric. He earned this one by jumping on top of doors, shredding toilet paper rolls, turning on the hot water in the tub and then shutting himself in the bathroom creating a personal sauna and by assisting me when I scout for food (not a Person-approved activity) by tossing loaves of bread and other goodies to me from the counter top. He even threw me an entire bag of training treats from the top of the refrigerator. I ate them all and maybe that is why I am so well-trained.

Well, Adric has a new nickname and it is Sadric. He is the saddest sad sack of a cat ever. That isn't a holiday stocking he has donned. Poor Adric had to have surgery on his broken leg and now he's got this big old cast with a red wrapper to haul around and his very ample-looking thigh has been shaved. How embarrassing is that? And that other blob of shaved-ness is his even more ample belly.

That Adric sure doesn't have my trim sportsman's physique. But he doesn't go for daily runs by the river either. He sleeps and stretches and walks around like a princeling and sleeps some more. And that is on a busy day.

I feel badly for him even if he is getting the royal treatment - he has special beds all over the place and every time I try to nap on one my Person growls at me. And he gets extra food (look at that thigh, Person, and restrain yourself!), and he gets held whenever he wants and that is almost all the time. And he gets special medicine but I would rather have treats than that.

I am hoping for a nice romp outside today but there is a slick layer of ice on the ground. Even with four legs I am going to have to be careful out there. I may be a little red dog but I sure don't want to end up with a red leg like Adric!

Avoidance

2010-01-19T09:48:00.000-08:00

I am using a technique my Person sometimes uses when she is doesn't want to deal with things. I am staying in bed. She calls it napping, and sometimes she holds a closed book in one hand and she calls it reading. But it all amounts to the same thing. Avoidance.

What am I avoiding? I am avoiding Miss Furry who is holding court in the living room, sleeping on my couch and every now and again bestirring herself to go outside to chase my squirrels.

There is a saying about house guests and fish...but I LIKE the smell of old fish and I know Tasha does as well. Dogs generally handle strange smells two ways: they whiz on the stinky thing or they rub it all over themselves. I prefer the former, and when it comes to rotten fish, Tasha prefers the latter. So I guess if the saying is true, I actually like having Tasha here, though I sure haven't whizzed on her. (She'd probably retaliate somehow, like rubbing herself all over me.) So, let's say we have a detente going on, and we've established some boundaries: Tasha rules where ever she is and I hide in the bedroom!

Brotherly love

2010-01-14T08:31:00.000-08:00

Notice that this is not a picture of a certain red dog and a certain Tasha the Furry Interloper. This is poor Adric using poorer Pico as a pillow, and they are roasting themselves on top of the radiator. Adric looks pretty silly and his cast says "OUCH" (his vet is something of a wag) but my Person will not let me laugh at him. To his face anyway. What I do in private is my own business.

Speaking of which, I don't have much private business these days. Every where I look, there is Tasha. Every time I scrounge for crumbs, there is Tasha. Every time I go outside, there is Tasha. The only time I don't see Tasha is when I close my eyes and when I do that she stares at me!

Move over Adric and Pico - I think I'd like to join the cat pile for awhile!

Double trouble

2010-01-12T08:39:00.000-08:00

This may look like I am trying to take a chunk out of someone but it is just me whispering sweet nothings into my best frenemy's ear. Winter Storm Tasha has hit and here she is now, stirring things up in MY backyard.

I think things are going pretty well so far, except my Person takes Tasha for private walks and Tasha gets special treats and Tasha follows my Person everywhere (I didn't know dogs were supposed to do that) and Tasha scares all the squirrels away from the yard (that is MY job) and she scares the birds away too (another thing I didn't know dogs were supposed to do) and she licks my Person's hands (maybe my Person isn't very careful about washing up after she eats, or that's a third thing I didn't know dogs were supposed to do) and she generally is trying to insinuate herself into the structure of our little family by being nice to my cat brothers (okay, that's a fourth thing I didn't know dogs were supposed to do).

I don't know whether I am being shown up or not but I think I'd better come up with some plans to outdo Tasha!

All quiet

2010-01-07T13:15:00.000-08:00

Winter has settled in. The snow is deep and crunchy and there is a new layer of fresh snow on top - snow covered snow as it were. The birds and squirrels are furiously hungry, almost as hungry as I always am.

I caught a squirrel today, briefly. My Person screamed and jumped up and down (she exhibits classic primate behavior) until I dropped the squirrel and it ran away. I think it was an unfair match - the snow makes it harder for little animals to scarper. But I am all in favor of unfair matches, as long as things are in my favor.

I'm inside now and all is quiet. The calm between the storms, one might say. The snow storm is over and the next storm is yet to begin: Tasha, the Barking Hairdo of a Sheltie is coming to stay with me. For weeks!!

Talk about unfair matches. I am no match for this Little Miss and I think she knows it. Until she gets here I am going to enjoy the quiet life and prepare myself for Winter Storm Tasha!

A new year?

2010-01-02T12:30:00.000-08:00

I don't really understand the human desire for the Big Do-Over. Periodically they think they deserve a new beginning. It seems to me that everything is a continuation. One can't really change what has happened before - we can merely go forward, and maybe even with good intentions.

If he knew about the concept, Adric probably would like a do-over for the moment he slipped his ankle into that drawer pull and then jumped. But Adric doesn't know about such ideas, and neither does his broken ankle and neither do little red dogs. Full steam ahead is what I say. (Or what I think even if I don't say so.)

Life is full of surprises (a concept Adric DOES understand) and I was surprised by some pretty deep snow and some pretty big snow people down along the river. They gaze out over the ice sheet with attention and quiet humor. They are only here for season at the longest and don't have time to regret. They merely ARE, right now, right here. And I like that about them. And I like that about me, too.

The calendar may say it is a new year, but since I can't read, I am protected from such frivolity. So don't count on do-overs and maybe-laters and what-ifs. Go look at the river and run and smile at your Best Friend. Forward, I say!

A Christmas gift

2009-12-24T12:17:00.000-08:00

My cat brother Adric and I have a prickly relationship - I relate and Adric prickles. And he is loaded with pricklers - in his mouth, on all four fur feet....it is like living with a little saber-toothed tiger. Well, "little" would be the wrong adjective. Adric is pretty big.

But the other day I thought we had reached a new level of friendship. I thought that Adric had prepared the best ever Holiday gift for me. After all, I've been pretty good lately. As good as dogs get that is. I thought he made me a cat punching bag! Out of himself!

It started like this. Adric was in the kitchen, jumping up on the counter and scouting food as usual. This accounts for the not-so-little aspect of Adric. My Person was busy being busy, or as I think of it, wasting time that could be spent playing with me. Suddenly a hideous commotion broke out in the kitchen: cat screams and hisses and growls. I ran right on in as any dog would. There, suspended by his skinny ankle from a drawer pull, hung big ol' Adric. I was beside myself with joy and started punching away at him. It seems he liked this even less than being suspended. The level of noise increased though that didn't seem possible.

My Person ran through the house, wailing (her usual response to surprises), ran to the kitchen, ceased wailing and commenced screaming, joining right in there with Adric. (My Person has been in a choir lately and I believe she was doing an alto accompaniment to Adric's mixed soprano and bass.) She lifted him up and out of the drawer pull and Adric rolled and stumbled down the basement stairs, hissing and spitting, and then my Person rounded on me like it was my fault for taking advantage of the moment and what I thought was an amusement arranged especially for me. "Back!" she hissed like a snake in full fury, and then she sailed down the basement stairs after Adric.

Well, a long time and a lot of mushy kissy noises and poor kitties and sweet adrics later, up the basement stairs came my Person holding one wounded Adric. And off to the Emergency Vet they went. I realized then that Adric hadn't made me a nice punching bag but had gotten himself in a dangerous fix. I too have been to the Emergency Vet recently and the thought of it still makes me shudder.

Well, the long and short of it is Adric broke his ankle bone and is taking some mighty powerful painkillers and is spending his time in MY little nap bed in the bathroom, all toasty and warm and with dilated eyes and purring and singing little cat songs to himself.

And I am down one Christmas present and a little bit in the dog house but I am getting pretty used to that.

So remember, always look a gift horse in the mouth because maybe it isn't really a gift and maybe you are headed for some trouble if you think it is!

Triple-walled dog house

2009-12-07T21:13:00.000-08:00

That's where I live. Lately.

I admit. I've been bad. But it isn't really my fault.

First, my Person foolishly left the grocery bag up on the table where I am not suppose to go and I sort of got inside and pulled a quart container pack of organic chicken broth out from under a giant heavy winter squash and carried it into the living room and ripped it open and slurped up most of it except for a little puddle by the bookcase I forgot about until it was too late.

Second, my Person foolishly left a sealed box of bird seed by the back door that I happened to pull open and dump upside down and sample a good deal of before she surprised me by coming in that very back door without knocking first.

Third, I ate a pan of almond bars that my Person made for her Friend and left to cool on top of the stove. She didn't even yell at me or call me a bad dog after that one. She just gave me a steely look and said "You know what kind of dog you are," and I cowered and shrank and glued my ears to the back of my head and gave a gulp and unfortunately I also burped. She ignore me then and strode out of the room to lie down on the couch and read. And that was very bad because I had hidden some of the almond bars under the couch throw. And then she went to bed to read and that was very bad too because I had hidden some more almond bars under the blankets. "What are you?" she roared. "A grizzly bear making food caches?" Then she laughed but it was a grim sort of laugh and I found some other place that wasn't the couch or the bed to sleep that night.

Lucky

2009-11-24T08:21:00.000-08:00

I am taking a moment to reflect. (Actually I was napping.)

But now that I am awake it is good to reflect. It is almost Thanksgiving and my Best Friend is visiting me and I have been invited to at least one holiday meal (though rumor is I am banned from another). The sun shines every few days and the river still hasn't frozen up so there is still outdoor swimming for intrepid red dogs. These all go into the category of things I am thankful for.

Also in that category: new liver treats, kicking up my white heels walking in the oak leaf drifts, chasing squirrels, going to the dogpark with Tasha and her Bark, riding in the car and sleeping on the couch.

It would seem that I am thankful for companionship, adventure and purpose (and food). And I am lucky to have all of those things. And that is why my full name is Lucky Finnegan!

Sharing

2009-11-15T17:08:00.000-08:00

Today I turned up my nose at walking around the lake in one of my city's finer zip codes and decided to stick to basics: sun, sand and surf in my own neighborhood. And I invited my best frenemy to join me.

Tasha the Barking Sheltie headed down to the Mighty Mississippi with me. You might think I am a wild one but get a load of this walking hairdo of a dog!

If I had hair like that I'd probably bark more too. Think of how frilly and whirly and swirly Tasha's whole body must feel. Every part of her is blowing in the wind, my friend.

I am more of a close cropped, no fuss no muss kind of guy. A fine coat like Tasha's would trip me up on my adventures and clog up with debris. And I am sure I am more aerodynamic than that furry girl. I don't need any additional turbulence when I head into adventures - I make enough of my own and sure don't need my fur doing it for me. Speaking of adventures, looks like I'm into one now!

Artless

2009-11-08T18:38:00.000-08:00

Being a companion animal to my Person isn't easy. I spend a lot of time sitting on my heels waiting for something interesting to happen.

And even then, my Person's idea of interesting is not really very interesting to a little red dog. Reading is not interesting to me. One would be better off asleep and in fact when reading is going on you can count on my having a snooze.

Painting is not very interesting either except for when my Person is eating and painting at the same time and I end up with most of her snack because she drops it when she switches paint brushes.

Being told it is super supper time and then having to wait while my Person dithers around making her own supper or just plain forgets about me and goes back to painting instead is really not interesting.

I am trying all my best heart string plucking plaintive expressions. Do I hear the sounds of kibble in my dish? No, just the swirl of turpentine and clatter of brushes. Maybe I need to brush up on the art of making myself more interesting!

Trick or treat

2009-11-04T06:41:00.000-08:00

The season of holidays has begun. First the world turns yellow and orange and then the leaves fall and the cold rains come and before you know it Halloween is upon us. Next up are some other holidays which interest me only because a lot of good food is served and my human cousins drop a lot of it on the floor under their chairs.

But Halloween is most compelling for a dog. On Halloween night the children of the neighborhood swap their jeans and t-shirts for costumes and show up right at your door in the dark, yelling and laughing and asking for treats.

This is my territory!! I am supposed to be performing for treats. And I am supposed to guard my house against incursions by ghosts, princesses and knights. So what happens on this special night? I get tethered to a chair in the kitchen and told to be quiet!! I don't get to charge the door. I don't get to scare the vampires and skeletons and ghost brides. I have to stay in the kitchen, alone, while Adric patrols and gets first crack at household defense.

What a horrid night. It was no treat for me, just a terrible trick.

One of these things is not like the others

2009-10-13T15:18:00.001-07:00

This is kind of like an IQ test. It will judge your ability to see relationships between things, to recognize sets. So, which one of these four things does not belong:
1) red dog
2) snow
3) green grass
4) warm sunshine

Are you done? This one should be pretty easy. Red dogs go with everything but warm sun and green grass and - here's the odd one out - snow are the Axis of Unrelatedness. Here I was, happily in the midst of a bit of late summer easing into fall reverie and I get dumped on with snow! This is just too much for me to process. I wouldn't know what to wear but I never change clothes much. Or bathe. Good thing I don't need to, being naturally clean.

Well, I got in a bit of a river swim anyway and ate lots of grass and skipped ahead pretty fast whenever a snow clump slid off a branch and landed near me. I ended up with muddy feet and a wet belly and my breath came out in frosty clouds as I blinked in the sunlight and watched runners go passed in shorts and winter caps. It is the change of seasons - we just don't know what the season is changing to!

Look out below!

2009-09-30T17:32:00.001-07:00

Here is how I look when I have been swimming and running. It is similar to how I look when I accidentally almost do myself in.

My Person says I need climbing gear or longer toe nails or less enthusiasm for high-risk adventures. This might have something to do with the fact that today I fell out of a tree at the dog park. About a 12 foot drop. Aren't I remarkable?

How, you might ask, did I get so high up a tree? Easy, I would reply. I ran!

The dog park has lots of big old cottonwoods, those great water-loving trees with complicated, bank-stabilizing root systems. Well, the river rises and the river falls and sometimes those trees stand knee-deep in water and sometimes the river rushes by and drags away the sand. And after a few – or even many – years the roots don't have so much sand to hold on to and the big old cottonwoods begin to slant a little. Or a lot. Some of the dog park cottonwoods stand at about a 45 degree angle, their angle of repose for now, and just the perfect angle for an intrepid red dog to run right up.

The cottonwoods start out broad and then they begin to taper. I was running up every cottonwood I could find and making a neat U-turn just as the trunk was almost too narrow for a maneuver like that and then running down again as fast as I could. And then on to the next tree.

I was scaring my Person a bit, and Tasha's Person too. Tasha was there but not climbing - she's a more cautious sort and she's not sturdy like me. One might even call her delicate. Anyway, I had this scared-ish audience and I just couldn't resist continuing my tree climbing, especially since I got a treat every time I made it back to terra firma.

Then my great trick turned into a great fall. I ran too far up a tree and the trunk got too tapered and my U-turn went a bit wobbly and then I sailed through the air and all one could hear was the collective intake of breath by my watchers and the plaintive call "Finnegan!" I was a bit crumpled in the sand with my tail tucked and my ears back and I was as scared as everyone else. At first. Then I tried out all my movable parts and they still moved and I tried out my non-moving parts and they still didn't move and I tried out my ability to eat treats and that was unimpaired so I popped up, good as new!

My Person says she's going to start carrying a giant blue IKEA bag to the dog park to use as a portable stretcher just in case one of my adventures has a bad end. I think she worries too much. Doesn't she know that trees are for climbing?

Par-tay

2009-09-20T19:54:00.000-07:00

I thought you'd like to meet some of my human family. This is not a six-legged human relative - I don't think I have any six-legged relatives - but a group of several of them all hugger mugger. This is an uncle-cousin-cousin group plus one little red dog on top.

We were having a birthday party for my cousin. He is 14. I am only in the four to five age range, but the exact information escapes me and therefore everyone who knows me. I cannot even imagine being 14! That is really a lot of dog years.

It was great celebration. There was food on the table and below, dishes to be washed (and I make a fine prewash cycle), there were pile-ons and presents and a pizza party the night before with movies I slept through and a trip to the dogpark (everybody sing!) that I didn't sleep through.

It was the best sort of weekend for a quiche, pizza and family loving dog like me!

Dog park

2009-09-16T17:29:00.000-07:00

My Person sings me a song. She made it up herself and she calls it Dog Park. It goes something like this:

"Dog park, dog park
Dog park, dog park
Dog park, dog park
Dooooooooog park!"

What this ditty lacks in grace, imagination, variation or lyricism, it makes up in being short and to the point. This makes me happy. And what else makes me happy is that she sings it before we go to - you guessed it - the dog park!

And here I am now, fresh from a chorus or two of our favorite song and ready to run my little red heart out.

After this it will be time to head home for the evening meal. I can feel another song coming on:

"Super supper, super supper...."
I bet you know the rest!

Oh to be free

2009-09-15T21:30:00.000-07:00

See the wild creature trot down the woodland path? A fox you wonder, or could it be...a wild Finnegan?

I was enjoying a solitary hike (solitary as long as I was looking forward since I was being trailed by my Person as usual). I was thinking how nice it might be to live here, alone and wild, wandering and sniffing all the day long, hunting and scuttling through the shadows at night.

What fun! Especially if my Person would show up every 12 hours with a nice dish of food. And if we could move my cushion down here.

Come to think of it I could use the bed too. And the couch. And I like the lawn chair for napping and squirrel duty. And I would kind of miss having Ollie to pester, even though there are plenty of things down in this woods to chase. I just have a feeling some of them might chase me right back. So I guess I will trail my Person back home after all!

What dogs do for fun

2009-09-04T09:27:00.000-07:00

That is an easy one. Dogs do about anything for fun. And for treats! Like going swimming even when they are non-swimmers. And climbing trees even when they aren't climbers.

This little bit of late summer fun is going to be gone too soon and the ice crystals will be sticking to your forehead where river water splashes once sparkled. Frigid winds will howl out of Manitoba and blow you right off that tree perch. (And it will hurt when you land on that frozen sand!)

So go have a little frolic in the sun and act like a little red dog while you can!

Dog daze

2009-09-01T19:03:00.000-07:00

I don't know if it is still summer or not but it is chilly enough to make me think it might be getting close to autumn. So I have decided to get in a summer's worth of lawn chair napping in one afternoon.

My Person is completely ignoring me but since she is cleaning the basement I figure I am better off right where I am, doing just what I am doing. I am not allowed in the basement so my interest in it's hygiene is slim.

Adric spends quite a bit of time down there. As a matter of fact, all three cats sneak down there on a regular basis and then I hear what sounds like sand flying around. Then the cats come flying up the stairs as fast as they can and in a state of great joy. Who knows what they have been doing down there.

Well, pondering the ways and whys of cats is enough to put a dog to sleep so I'd better continue my snooze before it gets too cold to!

Mythic

2009-08-28T11:29:00.000-07:00

On my travels I see mysterious things. Sometimes they are little and sometimes they are big and sometimes they are of mythic proportions. For example I just happened to see the Loch Ness Monster today as I was strolling around an urban lake. Click on my photo and you'll see it better too.

Now I didn't think too much of it even if my Person was all agog. I was much more interested in the muskrat who just sort of accidentally jumped into my mouth at the very moment I was pouncing on the river bank. My Person did shriek louder for that than she did for Nessie and I literally dropped my jaw - and the muskrat. He gave me a quick and baleful look and headed for the deep weeds.

If I felt like going for a big swim I could have tried the same technique with the Lock Ness Monster but it is a bit larger than I am. I do hate to be on the receiving end of "pounce and bite." If a pitbull can send me to the hospital I shudder to think what Nessie could do!

Walking down a country road

2009-08-12T14:26:00.000-07:00

I have no idea where I am going and (this part is a lesson for my Person and other humans) I am perfectly happy.

Everything is a a little surprise for me. Waking up. Having breakfast. Seeing a donkey stare at me from behind a bush (that really happened on this particular walk). Finding a frog hopping along the same road as I am, maybe with a better idea of where he is going.

I sure have had some unpleasant surprises too but often such things are quite interesting once you have survived them.

This particular country road sure held my interest though. There were the two fawns that were as surprised to see me as I was to see them. Then I found something crunchy to eat when my Person was looking the other way. Loons called from a nearby lake and weren't quite drowned out by the sound of jet skis. (I barked at a bunch of them - jet skis, not loons - later on, though I guess that puts me on the list of obnoxiously noisy things.)

My Person trotted along behind me, identifying birds and plants when she could and pondering trouble and strife when it occurred to her and she even threw in some worrying, planning and slapping at mosquitoes and I tried as hard as I could to let her know this wasn't just time for a walk, it was time for a little red dog philosophy.

Swimming with tigers

2009-07-19T15:41:00.000-07:00

My Person and I broke our stride today and tried something different. We deserted our familiar routine and visited one of the city's urban lakes. We picked the one with the most enviable zip code and set off showing those fancy lake dwellers how we rustic riparian types like to enjoy ourselves. I was the only one swimming in the whole darned lake, or so I thought.

After a few laps my Person hauled me out and we stopped to read a nearby sign. It read "This lake contains muskellunge."

I was swimming with tiger muskies! Can you believe it - ferocious stripey fellows with uncountable numbers of sharp teeth. One could have nipped off part of this little red dog! I probably look pretty tasty paddling around through the weeds.

After this close shave we retired to the familiar shores of the Mississippi River and I attended a beach party for dogs. There was a puggle and a doodle and a poodle and shepgle or maybe it was a beaglard or maybe it was just called a shepard beagle but it was a funny fellow regardless of its name. And we jumped in the waves and my Person tried to make us "Sit!" in the deep water but we are all too smart for that. It was a real summer day and even my favorite princess Tasha is now cleaning out the sand from between her toes!

Hummingbird

2009-07-17T19:26:00.000-07:00

This little bird has captured my Person's attention. It is trying to get some nectar from a flower that hasn't opened up yet.

I know how it feels. I look about like that, only larger and red, when my Person hasn't opened the cupboard where my food is stored, when she hasn't put that food in my dish and when she hasn't given me the high sign that I can start eating.

The little bird was pretty amazing to watch as it went on to find a meal at nearly every kind of flowering plant my Person has been planting since before I arrived on the scene. There is even a special garden she calls the prairie garden and I like that garden a lot. After all, I am a prairie sort of dog from Prairie du Chien. That is mainly where this little bird was hovering and sipping, in the garden I mean, not in Wisconsin, lifting suddenly and swooping out of sight and back again before you could count to three and occasionally sitting down on a little branch, still and crisp and not its usual so-fast-it-is-blurry self.

I sat with my Person and watched the little bird eating until at last it flew away for the evening, and I think we both were thinking how wonderful it might be to fly like that, and while we were busy imagining, the light grew dimmer and the evening grew quieter and all the other birds went to their roosting places for the evening and so did my Person and so did I.

Doggone clean

2009-07-15T15:11:00.000-07:00

Nothing like a good scrub up.

This is how we dogs get clean - we jump in the river and then roll in the sand and before you know it we are sparkling clean and smelling fresh and don't need any bathing at home. Ever.

It is funny how many products people seem to need to keep in good order - shampoos and soaps and lotions and gels and sprays and scents and sun screens. All you really need is a good tossing of river sand in your fur and you are set for at least a week.

Prissy Pants Pico doesn't clean up this way. He is always licking himself and the other two cats and they lick him in return. I find this behavior disgusting. I'd rather be covered with good clean sand than spit any old day. Everyone knows spit is for cleaning shoes and Pico doesn't wear any. And neither do I!

That darned cat

2009-07-14T11:24:00.001-07:00

Most of you know I have some dramatic aspirations. I have answered a few audition calls in my time. I imagine plenty of other farm boys, listening to crickets on hazy summer evenings, dream of trodding the planks, a rapt audience agog as they do their full routine of "Sit!" and "Wait!" and "Leave it!" (This last met with thunderous applause.) Well, that's me all over - if you happen to have some treats on you.

Well the agent called, and to my ever-lasting astonishment, wanted a cat and not me!! Off went Pico and his companion Adric and left me home! That Pico couldn't act his way out of a paper bag. His ability to dissemble is nonexistent. He is incapable of rouse. And he can't even cock his head cutely when you ask him a question. I am a master of all of the above.

Pico isn't a scholarship student in outdoor obedience - as I just happen to be - and the only command he obeys is "Go take a nap on a comfy chair for 18 hours."

LIfe is so disappointing sometimes, and though it is mean to wish failure on others, I am struggling to heed the call of my nobler side. Good thing I am a dog, as you know what side will prevail...but if I were a cat...well, I guess I would have slept through all of this!

Finally

2009-07-13T08:56:00.000-07:00

I have been getting nagged to write a bit about life but it just has been an endless slog of chores. Laundry, classes, harvesting (I am by origin a farm dog), herding cats. The usual summer fare. I even did a little Tom Sawyer routine and helped paint the fence with my chin and ears but more of the time I kept the chipmunks from leaving pawprints in the fresh paint while my human cousins labored under my Person's stern eye.

But finally, today, I had an adventure worth telling about. We were on our way home from the usual Monday bluebird trail inspection and what did we see ahead of us as we trudged on the bridge, high over the Mississippi? Ducklings! On the foot path, along the busy car traffic!

I was pretty surprised and excited. My Person was pretty surprised and full of stupid life-saving ideas. We tried herding the ducklings along, hoping to get them off the bridge, but at the foot of the bridge is a busy intersection! The ducklings kept veering toward the edge of the bridge, peering under the railing at the water 60 feet below. Then my Person hailed a passing cyclist and he stopped to help us try to gather the ducklings. I was tethered to the railing as my Person thought my happy barks were "not helping the situation." She told me as much. The cyclist tried to block the ducklings from running into the street. My Person frantically grabbed at them. She caught one and bundled it up in her shirt. Another jumped off the bridge - horrors! The others swirled and beeped and peeped. I barked and howled (I admit a little loss of self control). The ducklings surged. My Person grabbed another and then another. One ran along the bridge and then jumped down from the bridge into a tree top on the river edge. The cyclist stuffed the captured ducklings into his backpack and then we all walked along until we got nearer to the river and let the ducklings off in the weedy ground where they continued to swirl and beep and run into each other. Believe it or not, the tree-top duckling made it there too having fallen out of the tree and followed his siblings' calls.

Hopefully the ducklings have made their way to the river and haven't gone bridge climbing again. For myself, I am exhausted and need to rest in the shade. Until I have another chore to do that is.

On the trail

2009-05-26T08:59:00.000-07:00

Those of you who know me well know that I am officially an unofficial bluebird trail monitor. My Person is officially official but she couldn't monitor the trail without me. She eyes the stuff up high and I keep my nose to the ground and between us we do a good job.

Today we saw newly hatched bluebirds in their nest box and also a tree swallow who was so devoted to its egg clutch it refused to leave when we peered in the nest box. Such brave creatures birds are!

On the way home we walked across the Mississippi River, using a helpful bridge of course, and looked down over the riverside tree canopy stretching out below us. A cowbird, that much maligned songbird (look it up, you can start with the westward movement and the slaughter of the plains buffalo herds and you end up with this little bird living in my city, humans are the problem as usual) was perched on the bridge railing, calling in distress and looking out at the trees as well. Suddenly a cooper's hawk lifted up out of the trees, a bird in its talons.

I guess we saw it all this morning: a homeland lost for one species and regained for another and the cycle of life and death played out before us by our fellow creatures.

Contemplation

2009-05-25T19:33:00.000-07:00

A summery day is just the perfect time to lie in the grass and meditate. Or fall asleep. My Best Friend always falls asleep when he mediates so maybe it is all the same thing.

I have been pondering a bit between snores, getting in touch with my inner self. My inner chicken, my Person says. That is just because I ate an entire chicken carcass a few days ago, and so far no remains of it have, well, emerged. She thinks I am plugged up, but I think I am really a wolf in Red Dog clothing and can eat a lot of bones without ill effect.

But my inner chicken isn't limited to my diet. It also includes my feelings: feelings about conflict and the rough and tumble life of dogs, how some dogs are friendly and some are not, some playful and some want to fight, what people expect from dogs and what dogs expect from each other. My Person signed me up for an outdoor advanced obedience class and I get just a little scared of all the things we have to do and the other dogs in the class, all the direction and correction going on. It all makes me feel a little chicken.

Maybe I would like to be a simpler sort of fellow, not a dog signed up for advanced classes. Maybe I would like to be a rural rustic and lie on my side in the shade with a grass blade between my teeth, a bird singing over my head.

Of course if the bird is a chicken, I'll just have to eat it.

At swim, one dog

2009-05-14T19:48:00.000-07:00

There is a freeze warning for the northern part of my northern home but just look at me in my swimsuit, enjoying the sun and having a sip or two of enriched water.

I hear that some people drink coffee and energy drinks and tea and all kinds of flavored water that they pay for with money that could instead purchase things like dog toys and dog treats. Why, you might wonder, as I often do whenever my Person buys something for herself and not for me, why on earth buy some fancy juiced-up liquid when you can just come down to the shores of the Mississippi and jump on in and drink as much enhanced water as you want for free?

This river water probably has lots of caffeine in it and lots of roughage besides and little fish parts and some greenery and wiggly guys and paramecia and twigs. This is water you can chew as well as slurp.

Of course you might end up with some uninvited guests living in your gut. So begins my summer of giardia once again!

I've had enough!

2009-05-07T21:28:00.000-07:00

Too much has happened to this little red dog lately. First I get my lights punched out and end up in the hospital, and then my Person up and leaves me and I have to spend a week in a prison for sad dogs. And then today, on this gently sunny spring day, we bravely brave the dog park for the first time since the Incident and who do I see the minute I arrive? The dog that beat me up!

It seems this dog was a fighting dog found on the mean streets of the city. I feel badly for him but I would just as soon NEVER see him again.

After that uneasy encounter I continued on my way into the park and calmed myself down by running as fast as I could and swimming and playing with a Shiba Inu who was just my size. I even joined my friend Tasha in a game of Chase the Person around the Tree. I thought it was a little tame but it got Tasha pretty wound up. I spent my evening watching my Person babysit and it was nice to stretch out on the grass and feel it tickle my bare chest and watch the birds sail into the yard. Life finally seems peaceful once again. Oh I hope I am right. I've had about as much excitement lately as I can take.

Thumbs up!

2009-04-25T15:55:00.000-07:00

Whew! I am glad this week is over. I am done being an invalid, I am done wearing a 5T toddler shirt and I am done with my check up. The vet says I am almost as good a new with a little scar tissue added. And minus most of my chest fur.

I deserve a treat!

Low on adventures

2009-04-22T06:55:00.000-07:00

The busybody is at rest. And highly medicated.

I am feeling better and remember how to wag my tail. But I am not doing that any time soon because my Person is making me wear this stupid tank top to keep my wound clean. How embarrassing! She bought me several little shirts to wear and I am surprised but relieved that none of them have bears or bunnies or Spiderman on them. Or Elmo.

If this had happened to my friend Tasha she would have a pink t-shirt for sure! But I am glad she doesn't have to go through this.

A bad day

2009-04-20T06:45:00.000-07:00

I am a mutt. I am a mix of many of breeds of dogs. It seems all of us dogs carry traits from our ancestors. Mine make me want to hunt for chipmunks and stick my head into holes in the ground for a good sniff. Other dogs have ancestors who were trained to be to be valiant and to fight enemies to the death. That makes them extra loyal to their packs but dangerous to others when they get mad.

The pit bull dog is one of those breeds and they are caught up in a swirl of controversy: their human pack members love their ferocious loyalty, but their huge, strong jaws are a danger to those who get in the way of an aroused pit.

One got mad at me at the dog park and I ended up at the University Veterinary Hospital. My Person was terribly afraid and I couldn't get away from that dog or get out of its mouth once it pinned me. If a brave man hadn't pulled the pit bull off of me I might have been hurt much worse. I couldn't walk after I was attacked and my Person had to carry me for a long, long way to get out of the dog park. My friend Tasha was with me and she was very scared and so was her Person. I am recuperating now from a very bruised shoulder and leg and a deep puncture wound in my chest.

I hope that pitbull owners understand that they need to have complete control over and be very near to their dogs at all times. Maybe it isn't what their pit bull might do to them that is the issue. It is the incredible amount of damage to others that pit bulls are capable of that makes them a real danger.

Summer daze

2009-04-15T18:54:00.000-07:00

I know it it is just barely spring but today seemed like summer. Minus the green.

What do kids get up to on warm summer days? A bit of running and splashing in a swimming hole and maybe even trying to catch a frog or two? I did all of that. And more!

I shed some of my winter coat. I swallowed lots of enriched (pond) water. I got so muddy my socks turned brown. I stuck my nose down into a hole in the ground. My Person said "Someday, something will bite your nose and then you'll be sorry."

But I won't be. When winter is gone and spring is really here, even a sore nose can't spoil my fun!

What dogs do

2009-04-04T08:45:00.000-07:00

It is cold and gray but my Person says it is spring. And in the spring she plants seeds in her garden (which takes up most of MY yard by the way) and then she waters what she planted and waits and checks and studies and waits some more.

So I am gardening too. I have my best toy, a blobby thing my Person knitted for me, and I am going to plant it in my garden. And I will water it and watch to see what grows. It is made of lambswool and I am not sure if it will grow a nice toy tree or one covered with little lambs. Either would suit my purposes. Either I will have a lot of new toys to harvest or a lot of little lambs to herd around. And if the latter is the case, my Person can sheer off their extra wool and knit me up even more toys. And next spring I can plant them as well.

The first time my human Grandmother saw me she said I was just a farm dog. Wait until she sees what this dog can do!

Sharing again

2009-03-28T08:53:00.000-07:00

It has been a long cold week. Rivers are rising in many places as the spring moves forward in a series of wintry stalls and open water ices over and then melts again. My favorite riparian dog park is almost completely flooded - where dogs so recently were leaping and chasing, ducks are now paddling. I guess we dogs are sharing our park with others, but we don't have much choice.

It is good weather to go for a run and then head inside. My frenemy Tasha's couch spot has been taken over by my buddy Pico. If I get too close he makes a funny sound like he's losing air, so I stay as far to one side as I can. But it is nice having someone to share with.

Speaking of sharing, my Person has been busy baking her favorite no-knead bread and she shared it with me a couple days ago. If it is on the counter and she's off somewhere and wasn't polite enough to include me, then I figure all is fair game. So off to bed I trotted with my prize and spent a glorious afternoon munching and dozing under the covers. I was happy and my Person got an unexpected opportunity to share.

Isn't that the stuff that gives life meaning?

Blowing out the cobwebs

2009-03-22T16:06:00.001-07:00

Ah-ha! To run on dirt and grass instead of snow is a springtime pleasure...even though the grass is still looking pretty dead. My Person and my Auntie Val and I had a big hike today in the high wind and milky sun and I got to lead the way. I followed a deer trail along a creek and got us lost and then I got us unlost. I am a pretty good tracker but I am better at finding where moles and voles are than where the trail went.

It was a good airing out though and we all needed it.

The house needed some airing out too. The Barking Furball has gone home and though she was glad to be shut of us she left some bits and pieces behind. Tasha lives up to the Furball part of her name even more than the Barking part. If Tasha were musical and had bad taste, she could be a one dog hair band.

In the Olympics of Housekeeping my Person would score a solid 4.4: okay start and very bad follow-through. But when I start sneezing up cat fur and the cat brothers start complaining about the dog fur on their feet it is time to vacuum. So my Person hauled out the air sucking monster and the last of Tasha disappeared. Now if I want to see a little Tasha I will have to go to the dog park instead of looking between Adric's toes.

I shall be released

2009-03-14T07:56:00.000-07:00

It is the big count down until Tasha's Person #1 and Person #2 return home. (They can fight about who is which.) And then Tasha can return to her home as well. And then I will rule once again!

Right now she's outside scaring birds and I have sneaked out one of my toys for some play time. You won't be surprised to hear that Tasha commandeers my toys when she finds them so is has been a toyless two weeks for me.

Pretty soon I won't have to listen to my Person saying "Good girl!" from the other room or listen to the crinkle crinkle of treat bags being unrolled but not for me, and there won't be a furry puffy one anchoring the other end of the couch or someone to show me up on the finer points of dogdom, like heeling and such. It will just be me, me, me. Plus Adric and Ollie and Pico. And some others I won't even mention.

Will I miss Tasha - of course! But I will see her at the dogpark. And if she doesn't bring her Barbie suitcase I might even invite her for a sleep-over.

In praise of short hair

2009-03-10T11:24:00.000-07:00

Do I look a little damp? I should be. My Person decided, with her unerring sense of timing, that it was just right for a walk for me and my frenemy Tasha, well ahead of predicted sleet. Ha! Here I am an hour later, damp and slightly disgruntled and trying to forget the feel of ice pellets banging on my little red head.

But you should see Tasha! Being plumy may lend a certain charming and girlish appearance (as if I care) but imagine having five-inch belly fur, crusted with ice and clotted with mud and hanging all damp and bedraggled. Yuck! Needless to say she is sequestered in a highly absorbent environment for a while until she dries out. I maybe look a little wet but I came out of it better than she did!

My Person must realize the advantage of my hair style since she just had her scrambled and Tasha-like hair chopped off. I think maybe she took a picture of me with her to the stylist, not having found more practical or attractive styles in a fashion magazine. I won't tell her but the look is more successful on me. Maybe if she had furry ears...

Play time?

2009-03-04T16:41:00.000-08:00

This may look like the pose that a jaguar or a leopard assumes before dropping on its heedless prey but it is really an invitation to play. From the position of advantage that is. I'm as smart as a Big Cat.

You see, the Barking Furball started playing with me today. At first I thought she'd popped a circuit breaker. My Person even left her beloved computer and came to gawk. So I assumed the Big Cat position and wouldn't you know, Tasha stopped playing as suddenly as she began. And I was just ready to mix it up.

Of course Tasha's idea of mixing it up probably has something to do with donning pink wings and playing Barbie. So it is just as well. But I think I'll hang out here awhile just in case any likely prey - I mean playmate - happens to wander beneath me.

The agony of sharing

2009-03-01T08:11:00.000-08:00

I can't believe I am sharing my couch with a girl. I mean my Person is a girl but this dog girl on my couch has me all worried. Is nothing sacred?

I guess things are going better than I expected with Tasha the Barking Furball. She has been just slightly condescending to me (she only likes fuzzy dogs) and she has shared my backyard peaceably and she has even shared some of her treats with me. Cheese and Bacon Madness! Would my Person buy me a treat called that? No way! (Actually I wonder about the wisdom of buying Tasha treats with the word Madness in the name but I am not her personal shopper.)

So, we are embarking on Day Two of life with Tasha and I am doing my best to be non-controversial and keep my opinions to myself and I am incapable of discussing religion or politics so maybe things will continue down this path, fraught with more bark than bite.

The calm before the storm

2009-02-27T09:50:00.000-08:00

It was shattered yesterday. A sweet and mild day full of drips of melting snow and bird calls and soft sun was followed by a punch in the nose of a snow storm. I can easily ice my armpits in the backyard without lying down and the squirrels need some extra bounce today.

But a bigger storm will hit tonight. Hurricane Tasha is coming to stay. I have put little PostIt notes that read "This belongs to Finnegan. Do not touch," on all the furniture and my toys and water dish and food bowl. The cats are teaching each other how to plug their ears with their paws and they keep falling over in their attempts. My Person seems absolutely oblivious (what else is new) and isn't preparing nets, dungeons, chains, separate dining facilities, ANYTHING! I better put one of those PostIt notes on her.

So I am enjoying the quiet - broken only by the growls of snowplows and the snaps of snow shovels and people's backs. And waiting for the real storm to begin.

Sunbathing

2009-02-24T11:31:00.000-08:00

Roller coaster weather has left us all a bit dazzled. It has thawed, then frozen, then thawed, then frozen so many times lately people don't know whether to wear their shorts or their long underwear. I have seen someone wear both at the same time! I bet people wish they all had one outfit, serviceable and stylish for all weather conditions, like a certain little red dog does.

The cat brothers are stupified by the sunlight. (And by everything else but we won't talk about that now.) While I am busy working, pulling squirrel duty from the back step - admittedly a very sunny spot - Adric and Ollie are inside lounging and giving each other a good tongue washing. I'd give them a good tongue lashing for being so lazy, but maybe they feel like they are working.

I could use a bath too but I am not really due until May. So I will give one of my socks a slurp and let the sun do the rest of the work.

Cold nose, warm heart

2009-02-14T10:04:00.000-08:00

Today is a tough day for some folks, especially visiting and thin-blooded southern Best Friends, but I am just the guy to warm the day up. My nose may feel cold but I am a hot dog! Lots of running and jumping and snuggling will make Valentine's day warm no matter what the thermometer says.

I also recommend barking for warming things up. Ask my friend Tasha. She's an expert.

She came for a sleep over this week and we had a blast. In two separate rooms of course. We played a great game called "I can't see you and therefore you do not exist!" whenever we had to be in the same room together. Adric the Cat tried to paste her a few good ones making him my favorite cat brother, right after Pico and Ollie that is. (Hmmm, bottom of the list as usual. Sorry Adric.)

I can't wait until Tasha comes back for a longer stay so here's a little shout-out to her and everyone else too: Happy Valentine's Day!

Mug shot

2009-02-08T16:58:00.000-08:00

I am recovering from a visit by my human cousins. They are pretty fun but the indignities I endure to amuse them!

I got my own back today though. I led them on a merry chase around the dog park, running lightly through deep damp snow and leaping logs and skittering across icy ground. I can think of two kids who are going to sleep well tonight! They were lying in twisted piles more than they were chasing me. "Let's corner him!" they yelled time and time again. As if!

Still, we had a good visit together. I stared at them meltingly until they handed over pizza. I nosed around under their covers to keep them awake. I made sure they got up extra early and I ate their breakfast leftovers when they weren't looking.

Now it is just me and my Person to clear away the dishes and the blankets and the spills and the books and art supplies. But I got a wee bit tired out entertaining my cousins so maybe I'll just have to sleep through the clean-up!

Back on the job

2009-02-07T08:17:00.000-08:00

Okay. I woke up from my delirium of happiness and there is still work to do. So here I am, up a tree, wondering what to do next.

The weather is warming up so I will spend more time outside today. This means I can chase more squirrels and there are more dogs at the dog park that need some harassing. Rumor has it that my only dog friend is coming for a sleep-over soon so I am going to practice all my snarky tricks like stealing treats really fast and always being in front on a walk. Plus I need to sneak a magic marker from my Person and draw a circle around everything that the Barking Furball Tasha is not allowed to touch. Like the contents of the livingroom.

Meanwhile my human cousins are heading my way so I have chores to do to get ready. I better go linger near my leash until my Person gets the drift and off we'll go for the day.

Time to relax

2009-01-24T08:16:00.001-08:00

Ah...I feel so relaxed. I am happy about the new President. Most of the world is I hear. So I think I can be off duty for a while. No longer need I be concerned with every stranger walking up the street, every dog that sniffs along the sidewalk, every rabbit that visits the yard. I don't have to be afraid and I don't have to go shopping either. I just have to be a responsible little red dog, be honorable with other dogs and be useful and helpful.

I am still going to chase those squirrels away though. As soon as a I wake up....

Obama Dog

2009-01-23T08:24:00.000-08:00

A picture is worth a 1000 words! I am almost as happy as my Person!

I would be even happier without clothing however.

13 below and falling

2009-01-15T17:43:00.000-08:00

It is a brisk out today. Fresh. Chilly maybe. The snow is over my keel and the air freezes the inside of my nice, wet nose and when I run through the drifts the hairs of my chinny-chin freeze and soon I am wearing a little ice beard which makes me look wise but cold.

You have to prepare a bit before you go outside in this weather. My Person puts on layer after layer of clothes. I go from deep snooze to ready to play a lot faster than she does and I prepare for the icy blast by running in place by the door, jumping, whining and then wildly hurtling around the room when my Person puts on her outermost layer. If you grabbed her scarf and pulled, she'd spin like a top and that would be fun for you but she'd probably fall down on the ice that is hiding under all that cold snow.

The birds look extra cold today with fluffed out feathers, often hopping on one foot to keep the other foot warm inside their feathery coats. And even though I love the snow it is good to have a warm place to curl up when the fun is over and I have such a spot and I am headed there now.

Softy

2009-01-11T17:04:00.000-08:00

I was up to my usual tricks today - haunting the river bottom, pouncing in the snow banks, hunting for snow mice - the usual routine. Another dog showed up, and can you believe it, he only spoke German!! He wanted to play.

Now I am a Social Barker, not a problem, can quit any time, but this dog didn't bark at all and so it turned out we didn't have anything in common and we didn't play after all. In fact, this little guy seemed a little upset by my barking.

He trotted away and I bounded away and that was that. Or so I thought.

Then my Person spoke up. "You are a Ruffian," she said. Or maybe she said "You are a Roughian." I kind of like the idea of being a Ruffian - "Ruff, ruff," that is what I like to say to the world. But a Roughian?

I've decide to take up knitting just in case she meant spelling number two. I think knitting is not rough. It is genteel. It is soft and quiet and produces fun things to chew - like scarves and mittens and socks. It is accompanied by the soft click of needles and the soft sighs of knitters and causes cats to fall asleep (not that they have trouble in that area) and dogs to, well, cease barking.

Well, ruff or rough as the case may be, I am a knitter now.

Hunting instinct

2009-01-07T19:33:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, long ago, there was a little red wolf. He was my ancestor. He had brown eyes and soft ears and a black, wet, cold nose and he liked to hunt.

Leap forward a few generations and several thousand years and you come to me. My ears tip down and I am a bit shorter than my wolfy forebear and I spend more time couch surfing than deer stalking. But I am still a hunter. Here is one of my latest trophies.

I caught tree! It was on the small side itself, and it was already lying down, but it was a battle of titans and I bit it all over its little branches until it surrendered. But being a modern hunter I practice catch and release. So I left the little tree reclining on the frozen shore and it made no move to get up or hide from further attack and you can go see it yourself if you feel like hunting.

New and lightly used

2009-01-03T17:22:00.000-08:00

As I suspected, the new year crept in without me hearing and I didn't bark the old one out the door. In fact I was at a private party but I had faded a bit, perhaps was even snoozing lightly, when the great moment came.

And as I also suspected, no resolutions were in order and things have been going pretty well so far: plenty of 2008-model squirrels left to chase, dog parks to play in full of dogs to bark at, treats from store owners. I even was allowed to go inside a pizza parlor with my Person while my Best Friend ordered our dinner to go.

2008 presented me with new challenges and learning opportunities: modeling, trying out for a play, staying overnight with my human grandparents, snowshoeing up north where the wolves live. I had trips and visits and learned to play off-leash without running away from my Person forever. I grew a winter coat and then dropped it over time and over the couch and now I am growing a new one. I had holiday meals with new friends including a lovely woman with Alzheimer's who found my soft ears a comfort to pet. Plus she fed me a huge amount of turkey under the table. I survived an almost endless bout of giardia but I kept my sunny side (that's the red side) up most of the time.

What a life I have. I have a couple of new 2009 toys to chew and my cat brothers are as sleepy and round and easy to catch as ever. And now it is time to add a little taste of pizza to my 2009 experience!!

Done and almost over

2008-12-31T15:31:00.000-08:00

In a few hours the year will be finished. And then a new one begins. Seamlessly. I probably won't even wake up when one is done and the other starts.

I thought about making resolutions. But I am a dog and I am pretty happy about everything I do. Well, getting up on the kitchen table wasn't so smart. And barking at my Best Friend when he was shoveling might be interpreted as kind of dense. And maybe I shouldn't have eaten all that chocolate chip banana bread. But almost everything else I have ever done seemed pretty reasonable at the time. Or maybe I just wasn't reasoning. I was just doing.

It seems to be a good way for me to be. Think a little, do a lot. I can try to remember to be polite, to be patient, to be gentle. I could try and lose a couple pounds but I get lots of exercise and my red suit fits, so who cares? I am appreciative, enthusiastic, somewhat obedient and don't take up too much room on the couch. I keep the kitchen floor clean, Ollie on his toes, don't snore too loudly and prevent the squirrels from taking over the yard. All in all, I am a pretty swell fellow. Or at least tolerable. Well, let's just say I am a good dog.

So, a tail wag to all and a happy new year!

Wild life

2008-12-24T06:46:00.000-08:00

Maybe Ollie is right to watch shadows. If I had I would have missed this one though. A sharp-eyed sharp-shinned hawk sailed into the yard and snatched a sparrow who had been looking down at cracked corn instead of up at the sky - the place that danger comes from.

The hawk ate and ate and scattered the feathers and ate some more.

At first I was slightly appalled. After all, it is MY job to decide what goes on in the yard (except when I am asleep and then its everyone for himself). But the sharpie was efficient. There was no sport in his actions, only grim survival. No one hands him crunchies in a bowl twice a day.

The yard remained quiet for a few hours. My Person shoveled away the feathers, feet and beak left behind in the snow. A crow, sentinel of the bird world, made sure the sharpie didn't hang around all afternoon, digesting and scaring the chickadees and house finches that normally populate the yard.

Today a few flight feathers poke up through a fresh dusting of snow and the goldfinches glean the seed heads of cone flowers. Wild life goes on.

Ollie's cave

2008-12-21T08:21:00.000-08:00

How often does your cat brother illustrate a philosophical allegory? More often than you might think.

Here is Ollie, seated at the window which overlooks the bird feeder. On this frosty day the birds are coming in to eat, a constant and fluttering crowd, squabbling, eating, seed tossing and jockeying for the best seat at the seed table.

But you will notice that Ollie does not look out of the window. He watches shadows instead. Sometimes the shadow of a bird landing on a nearby branch is cast upon the wall and Ollie stands on his hind legs and taps it with his paw. He cries softly and sits back down to watch the shadows again.

Does Ollie know he is watching shadows? How does he feel about Plato's illustration of the philosopher's role in society? Does Ollie have his own reasons for looking at the shadows?

Well, I am just a little red dog but I know a shadow from a bird. And I might not be of a philosophical bent but I think Ollie just spends too much time asleep in warm places. Or maybe he's a complex sort of little white cat and has turned all his world into a game. And I bet Ollie won't tell us what he thinks so I am not going to ask.

Below zero

2008-12-17T17:29:00.000-08:00

I am a dog and I have a bite. I reserve my bite for eating supper and for emergency situations. But this winter weather has a bite of its own and it is not holding it in reserve. It is cold out!

I have been spending a lot less time out of doors - I run outside, and do my business and scoop up all the bird seed the silly birds have kicked out of their seed tray. Then I am ready to go back inside and curl up somewhere warm.

During my walks my little fast feet freeze one by one and I look like an animated tripod running along on three legs at a time. And my Person bundles up into a giant stiff padded shape and she shuffles along breathing out vapor clouds that circle her hat and freeze on her glasses. I would laugh but instead I lead her along safely. My work is never done.

If you have a place to warm up, count yourself lucky. I am happy to be a tame little red dog with a home and a food dish and a radiator or two. It is one thing to be a wild and free guy in the summer but right now I am happy to be inside and all curled up!

Storm watch

2008-12-09T07:06:00.000-08:00

Blowing snow, cold wind, fluffed birds, my footprints lost as soon as I've made them - this is a winter storm watch in the North. And I was out in it with the best of them (and the worst of them), trudging through the gloaming, ice crusting my snout and drifts covering my little white socks and snow standing in a long ridge on my back and frosting my ears. The wildest of wild animals, furred or feathered, fanged or clawed, was similarly snow-assailed and searching for food in the late light (I found a wild slice of bread in someone's yard), and thinking about a sheltering place for the night.

Here is my sheltering place, a butterfly chair with a chenille throw, and I suppose the coyote I saw doesn't have quite the same comforts awaiting him. But I do and I won't complain too much and here I will stay until my next fearsome walk. Or supper.

Quietly quietly

2008-12-07T15:37:00.000-08:00

Autumn has left and winter has come. The leaves are snowed under and the cold wind blows the snow in hissing waves.

But I am up for a walk anyway.

Our walks are quieter than a few weeks ago. Especially for my Person, who wears a huge hat on her head to keep her ears warm and to amuse the rest of us. The winter robins "chuck chuck" quietly quietly as we walk along and our footfalls are muffled in snow. Woodpeckers rap on tree trunks but few other birds are seen. The river flows quietly quietly under a skin of ice and a blanket of snow. Yesterday the river ice was talking - creaks and hums and strange zings. But not today. An eagle flies quietly quietly over the walking path and down by the river edge a strange wild creature noses quietly quietly along. I bark but not quietly. My Person and I are both pretty sure it was a coyote.

After this I was so excited I made up for the wintery hush by barking at all kinds of things - people, dogs, leaf piles. I barked myself into a great state of almost summery warmth. So much for quietly quietly.

Scolded

2008-11-18T15:48:00.000-08:00

It may surprise you to find out how many times a day I get corrected, glared at, tsk-tsked at, or just plain hollered at: "Stop rolling Pico across the floor!" "Don't sit on Ollie!" "That's MY breakfast!"

Sometimes I can't do anything right.

But today I was honored to be scolded - by a peregrine falcon! This demon of the sky was sitting in the tree top by the bridge, hoping to pounce on a nice plump pigeon. And when I walked under his perch he scolded me. At first my Person couldn't figure out where the sound was coming from. It was bouncing off the concrete bridge and seemed to come from all directions. And she couldn't figure out what it was - it sounded sort of like an eagle but not quite. I don't get stuck in all this minutia of who, what, where, why...I just bark. So I did, and big surprise, I got shushed for that. But when we retraced our steps the bird scolded again and this time we saw it.

And why am I so pleased to be scolded? This bird considered me a rival, a fellow hunter and pouncer, and a wild thing. And I am, too. So I trotted away, unchastened and proud, wondering if pigeon tastes as good as dog treats.

Still at Work

2008-11-13T08:39:00.000-08:00

The time has been flying by and my person has been too busy working to help me with this account. I finally pressed my nose into her leg so hard she got the picture. And I have a picture for you too. Look at what I have to live with! As you can see, it is the silly season in the cat realm. But it always is, from what I have observed.

While those good-for-nothing fur machines have been snoozing I have been hard at work myself. I got my Person through election season by walking her twice a day to calm her down and letting her run around at my favorite haunt, the river bank. I paid a week-long visit to my other human family where my cousins live and I admit I drove them a bit crazy by trying to rearrange the pecking order and to rid their neighborhood of other dogs, mail carriers and squirrels. I applied for an acting job and though I sat on the interviewer's foot and shed on his pant leg I didn't get the position - can you believe it??? What does it take?? And I have had my usual chores around the home.

So it has been a busy time.

This morning was no exception. I cleared the squirrels from my rainy yard and trotted to the river. The beaver have been busy and have chewed off many saplings. I played for a while with a stick a kindly beaver chewed to the perfect dog-toy length and then thoughtfully removed the bark. Then I chased a bald eagle but he ignored me. The good news is he didn't try to eat me. But I look more like a jawbreaker of a little red treat than a gummy bear. If someone wants to have me for a snack, they have their work cut out for them!

New coat

2008-10-26T16:50:00.000-07:00

Life is full of patterns. You think your daily routine is much the same while all around you the world changes. You notice the world is changing and then you realize that change is really part of a larger familiar pattern.

The world around me is changing in a familiar way. The leaves are falling, blanketing the ground and making it fun for running and jumping and crashing through leafy drifts. Soon a thicker blanket of white will cover the leaves but the thought of that is making my Person shudder. We got a little taste of it today - blowing wind and rain and snow all mixed together, making the leaves skip and fly and ears flop inside out if you have flip floppy ears.

It was so chilly on our walk my Person wore two sweaters and a puffy vest and a jacket and a scarf and extra thick socks and she still seemed pretty cold as she pulled up the rear at the slow end of the leash. I could have used some thicker socks myself. My winter coat doesn't come from the closet - I have to grow it myself and I just barely have a start on it. I guess I'd better get busy!