It was late in a hitherto uneventful afternoon.
A shrill sound split the air at a pitch audible only to dogs and to humans age 24 and younger.
Suddenly, computer and TV monitors were swarmed by images of scary men in threatening poses.
The world placed its hopes in the only individual who could combat evil of this magnitude.
Wearing his lucky ID tag, he set out to vanquish the enemies unknown.
He's taught camels to delay peeing.
Critics have described his licking as performance art.
His favorite book is the one he just read.
He was offered the ambassadorship to Bermuda, but declined.
If he was a cat, he'd have ten lives.
He believes a couch is more than a couch.
He is ... The Most Interesting Dog in the Palisades.
A sports figure whom I admire starred last year in a Spike Lee documentary about his work ethic. Entitled "Kobe Doin Work," the documentary followed Kobe Bryant through a day in the life.
I've been inspired by that film to present this homage, which I call, "Lambie Doin Work."
I am thrilled to report that an action version of these electrifying still shots is currently in development at a major studio.
While I was doing some sniffing work on the slope at the south end of the bluff, I happened to turn and look uphill.
My eye was caught by a disturbing vista of garbage.
Bizarrely, the garbage appeared to be growing out of a bush.
I hurried to investigate.
It didn't take me long to determine that garbage-droppers had been having a heyday at this end of the bluff.
Everywhere I looked I saw signs of their disrespect. Cans and cigarette butts were scattered plentifully around the area.
My mind turned to the late Lady Bird Johnson, who spearheaded the "Don't be a litterbug" campaign to beautify America. I felt grateful that Lady Bird was not alive to learn of this desecration.
But then it occurred to me that Lady Bird might have been a can half-full type of person -- someone who focused not on the trash but on the lovely views, the crisp air, the cliffs too far for litterbugs to reach with their hurled cans.
What would Lady Bird do?
Gifted with opposable thumbs, she would likely have picked up the trash. I didn't have that option. But I did have the ability to look at the can half-full, so that's what I did.
As a California coastal dog, I am drawn to the seafaring life.
A prime research source for me has been Margaret Wise Brown's classic book The Sailor Dog, which examines the very satisfying experience of a dog by the name of Scuppers.
Apparently all one needs to get going is a boat and a spyglass. A hat and a can-do attitude are also desirable.
The book also provides a song that I have adjusted so it goes, "I'm Lambie the Sailor Dog..."
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...
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A dog can dream, can't he?
Sometimes I don't want to go home from the bluffs. Maybe there are more dogs or people I want to interact with, or things I want to sniff.
At such times, I channel Mahatma Gandhi, an exemplar of non-violent resistance.
Ferdinand, the title character in a book by Munro Leaf, is a gentle fellow who is not interested in fighting or playing like the other young bulls. He just wants to sit in the shade of a cork tree and smell the flowers.
I think about Ferdinand when people say to me, "Why don't you run and play like all the other dogs?"
