Lambiedog

Chamber of horrors

    As I had my kitchen sink bath last night, my thoughts turned to a disturbing video that I first became aware of a couple of months ago.  It features a French invention called the Dog-o-Matic, which is essentially a carwash for dogs, involving jets of water and then blasts of hot air directed at a terrified animal captive in a noisy piece of equipment. 

    Who would put a dog in a washing machine?  Apparently, plenty of people.  Dog-o-Matic is already established in France and has plans to move into the United Kingdom.  They are also pushing a cat-washing machine built along similar principles.

    In response to unfavorable online comments on his invention, Romain Jarry -- the entrepreneur who came up with the idea -- posted a defense noting, in part,  "In case of dog's panic, owners can push the stop button or open the door."   To me, the concept still sounds like dog abuse.

The leaves in Vermont haven't turned yet, I see

 

 

My cousins Leo and Ella sent me this photo of them canoeing on the Connecticut River last week.  It looks like Ella hasn't yet mastered the concept of balancing her weight in the canoe.  Good thing they both know how to swim.

Wallflower

At Dolce's party the other day some of the dogs were running and jumping and splashing about madly. And then there were more bashful dogs.  Me, for example.  I found a little corner where I felt safe, and I mostly just stayed there.

I'm just not a hale-fellow-well-met kind of guy.  I'm more comfortable in small groups, with dogs like Ella and Fred, who have temperaments similar to mine.    

We're not really party animals.

Birthday party

Dolce had a party yesterday to celebrate her first birthday. 

 

It was quite a scene.  At least a dozen dogs were there.

It was a pool party, with lots of splashing. 

Frosty Paws were served as a treat.

Dolce really enjoyed her Frosty Paws.  After she finished it she polished off what was left on other dogs' plates.  

   This was the first time I'd ever had Frosty Paws.  I was excited, but also a little confused about how to approach this huge frozen confection.

  A visiting Scotsman was kind enough to cut my food into bites for me.

A lot of new experiences for me to reflect on.

 

Garbo, Howard Hughes, J.D. Salinger, and....Sam

     Readers of this blog might be under the impression that I have two brothers, but that would be the wrong impression.  Actually, I also have a third and equally wonderful brother, but he is not a fan of my blog so does not typically oblige the photographer who tries to capture him with me.      

    To the right is a rare shot of him and me together.  

And below is another:  a photo booth shot provided by none other than the reclusive man himself:

Thank you, Sam, for letting me feature you in my blog.

Adventure

Sun and wind and beat of sea,

Great lands stretching endlessly...

Where be bonds to bind the free?

All the world was made for me!

    -Adeline Crapsey

R.I.P.

This stone is set into the edge of the bluffs.

It's the only one there, so I think maybe it was brought specifically to be a memorial.

I wonder who it commemorates, and what's underneath it.

Siblings of the same species

 

 

    It was a typical bluffs gathering.  Everyone gathered around chewing the fat, so to speak.

    The nuclear family of Winnie, Trudie and Ollie was there with their owners.

   

    I started to think about what it would be like to have dog-siblings.

 

 

    We could play and wrestle together, and cuddle up and sleep next to one another at night. 

 

    I wouldn't want them horning in on my territory  on my owner's bed, though.  That's my special spot. 

 

    We could share rawhides.  Or possibly compete over rawhides.

    Hmmm.  Clearly, there would be pluses and minuses here.  My human-brothers never try to take my rawhide.

 

Running wild with Chet

Chet is a guy whose tough background bears similarities to my own.  Before we each made our way here, I was living under a dumpster downtown and he was living behind a Mexican restaurant in East Los Angeles.  

Now we both live nestled in the lap of luxury.  But you can always recognize a brother from the 'hood. 

                                            

Sing-along

Perspective

Sometimes the world can seem so cruel.

When I arrived at the bluffs last night I saw Dolce and Max playing together. Black and white, ebony and ivory, perfect harmony.

 

I looked at their owners.  Dressed in black and white, they matched Max and Dolce, and incidentally coordinated with one another as well.  

 

Then I looked at my owner.  Pink and olive.   A terrible match for my fur.  And obviously not coordinated with the other owners either.

  It's hard enough being a dog who's not great at playing wrestling games or running after balls.  Why do I also have to have the misfit parent?

Sure, it's all in my own head.  But it's still hard to be the dog who doesn't fit in.

I turned away and walked over to the edge of the bluffs, away from the pink and olive, black and white.  

I drank deeply of the ocean breeze and thought of my dinner waiting for me at home.  

 

I thought of all the dogs who don't have dinner waiting, and of all the dogs whose owners are worse-dressed than mine. 

I thought about how much my owner loves me, and I decided that maybe it was time for us to go home together and investigate the dinner situation.   

Excellent hair day

 

 

Things went very well with my haircut and bath. I feel sleek as a mink.

 

 

 

Next time, though, I'm going to ask them not to make me too pretty.  I ripped off the yellow bow the second I got out of there. 

The flirty eyelashes are also going to have to go. They're obscuring my vision.

They've got my back

My brothers might strike you as tough.

 

But they're putty in my paws.         

 

Remembrance of things past

 

The tea and madeleines took me back....

No sooner had the warm liquid mixed with the crumbs touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me....

And suddenly the memory revealed itself.  The taste was that of the little piece of madeleine which on Sunday mornings at Combray (because on those mornings I did not go out before mass), when I went to say good morning to her in her bedroom, my aunt Leonie used to give me, dipping it first in her own cup of tea or tisane.  And as soon as I had recognized the taste of the piece of madeleine soaked in her decoction of lime-blossom which my aunt used to give me (although I did not yet know and must long postpone the discovery of why this memory made me so happy) immediately the old grey house upon the street, where her room was, rose up like a stage set to attach itself to the little pavilion opening on to the garden which had been built out behind it for my parents (the isolated segment which until that moment had been all that I could see); and with the house the town, from morning to night and in all weathers, the Square where I used to be sent before lunch, the streets along which I used to run errands, the country roads we took when it was fine.  And as in the game wherein the Japanese amuse themselves by filling a porcelain bowl with water and steeping in it little pieces of paper which until then are without character or form, but, the moment they become wet, stretch and twist and take on colour and distinctive shape, become flowers or houses or people, solid and recognizable, so in that moment all the flowers in our garden and in M. Swann's park, and the water-lilies on the Vivonne and the good folk of the village and their little dwellings and the parish church and the whole of Combray and its surroundings, taking shape and solidity, sprang into being, town and gardens alike, from my cup of tea.

    -From Marcel Proust, Remembrance of Things Past, Vol. 1: Swann's Way.

Got to go

This morning I really really had to go.  I danced around and gave significant looks and generally tried to herd my owners into waking up and starting the day.  

It was like herding sheep.

Finally I got them going and we made it outside.  I headed right for my preferred spot at the bluffs.

I felt much better after accomplishing my mission.