People Walking Big Dogs Downtown

I was downtown and saw some people walking their big dogs.

It seems like people who walk their big dogs downtown always do so with the same apparent confidence level, very high. They're strutting their stuff and their dogs.

They might have a dozen different dogs. And it's always the same. They might have a dozen, but of course they never do. It's two or three at the most. But I can well imagine that if they had a dozen they'd walk with the same confidence (and obliviousness) that they do with two.

As for me, I don't know. I'd be nervous my dog would be going messy all over the place. Then I'd have a patio table full of people getting grossed out and pointing at me. So I keep my dog away from downtown. It's never been a temptation for me to take my dog downtown.

Write Something!

I've missed a couple days writing on my blogs, because of certain changes, upheavals, in my life. I'm in the process of moving. That causes a lot of consternation and a lot of wondering how things will work out, etc.

I hope good. The move is the big thing on my mind now. I've got a ton of boxes, and I'm giving quite an effort toward packing and cleaning my various rooms, including a basement that I had stuffed and messed up. Things had fallen over. Water had leaked in. Certain things were moldy, rotting. It wasn't a good scene. I was down there last night and hoping I wouldn't get that yucky water in any wound.

With all that going on, I've had to cut back in other areas of my life, including my daily writing of my blogs. So, I've knocked off for the night. It's been a busy day with it. And now I'm writing something.

I went to one of the local parks with my dog a while ago. She's consternated about the moving. The dolly and the boxes shuffling scares her so she's pretty scarce. But I know she's somewhere, like under the bed, probably wishing that we could get back to normal. Yes, I know, that's my wish too!

After a while I was thinking of her and that we needed a break. So we got in the car and headed to the park. It's a park that's a little out of the way, so there weren't any other people there. That meant I could give her free run, which she enjoys.

I sat at a picnic table for a few minutes, thinking over my life. Then I glanced over and the dog was taking a poop, so I took my sack over and picked it up.

Roll Over Minutes

We weren't home last night but staying somewhere else. It was unusual, not just for us but for the dog.

The dog was in bed with us, and I'm tossing and turning because I haven't got my normal clock to look at. So I'm turning on my phone. Then I'm trying to get my share of the covers, etc.

I'm rolling around in an unfamiliar bed. And I notice the dog rolling around too, trying to keep from me rolling over on to her.

It'd be tough to be that small and to have the constant danger of someone smushing you.

My Bagel Was Gummy

My dog's unpredictable ways forced me to leave my heated up bagel on the stove for an extra 10 minutes, meaning by the time I got to it it was gummy and tough to chew.

For quite a while -- maybe it was because of the winter darkness -- she stayed in bed and I was able to fix breakfast, eat it, check out the computer, etc., before she appeared, wanting to go outside. Now it's been more like this, that she makes an appearance right when I'm about to grab my food and head for the computer.

The same thing happened today. I didn't hear her footsteps on the stairs, so I thought maybe ... maybe I'd get away with doing it in the order I want. So I heated up the bagel, had it buttered, had some juice, milk, and coffee ready. Then ... on cue, she shows up!

We went outside and dilly dallied longer than usual. She made more near approaches to taking a crap than Apollo missions before they actually set one down. She was creeping around, looking for a place to land. Reminds me of crab walking. I was barely containing myself, feeling annoyed. And once when she was moving closer to some fresh mud I did yell out, "Hey!" I told her come this way, and "Good girl." I have to show that we're on the same page or she'll never go.

I finally got in and now here I sit. The coffee was cooler, the milk warmer, the juice was good, but the bagel was super gummy. Two things, bagels and macaroni and cheese have to be eaten right away or they're not fit to eat.

The Companionship Of A Good Dog

I don't know if there really are bad dogs. I'm sure of course that there are dogs that have been mistreated and so are bad. Or they're sick with some weird condition and they're bad. But whether there are just dogs that are bad just out of choice, that I don't think is the case.

The dog I have is certainly a good one.

I'm well aware of the whole thing where we get attached to them and we project a lot into them and their behavior, etc. But it really does look objectively like they are actually good and do love us. I look at my dog and it's impossible for me to think she doesn't love me. Since she's always around. If she didn't love me, wouldn't she be on the couch somewhere instead of right by my side?

I look at this dog and I'm amazed at the faithfulness, the quality of the companionship that she provides. It makes me want to cherish her in return, no matter what.

We're really on the same page in lots of ways. I've been taking her out without a harness and leash for over a month, since it's winter, there's snow everywhere, and she stays with me. She knows what I want to do based on what I say. I've been telling her to "Wait" when we come to a street crossing, since I don't want her to get run over. And she waits. Then "OK" and she runs across the street. But this wasn't practiced. I just did it and she seemed to get it right away. And there's other things like that.

My Fast Eating Dog

I went out to eat tonight, this evening, getting the "Early Bird Special," just like on Seinfeld.

I'm almost getting old enough to qualify for the Senior Discount -- in fact I think I am old enough some places -- so I ought to hike my belt line up around my nipples and I'll be all set.

I got the seven ounce sirloin, which was very very good. I asked for medium and it was more like rare, which is still to my liking. I like the look of that redness in there ... maybe not super rare, though. It's very primal, eating something that's barely dead. Of course it's literally dead.

I could've eaten the whole thing. Seven ounces isn't enormous. But I started thinking of my dog at home, and how much I knew she'd appreciate having a piece of this. So I cut the remainder into tiny pieces. Otherwise she'd just wolf it down in one gulp if it was one piece.

We got home and the dog knew there was something delicious, the odor wafting in the air. She was very attentive and happy. I put the pieces, at least 10-12 little pieces, in her bowl, and she went to wolfing. She had them in her belly within 20 seconds.

The dog will not stop to enjoy anything. That is so weird. She just inhales it and it's gone.

A Few More Hours Of Christmas

I always think Dec. 26 is about the most depressing day of the year. After the build-up to Christmas, then it's over, just like that.

So enjoy it while you can. Just a few more hours to go. And let's say I go to bed a couple hours before midnight, I'm cheating myself out of two hours of Christmas.

I'm not visiting with family this year (on Christmas). So it's a little lonely. Right now it's just me, the dog, and two cats. And the cats are someplace.

It was fun watching the dog check out her stocking. We got her, let me amend that, SANTA got her a few items, mostly edibles, of course. And she dug right in to one of the chewy ones. It was cute how she was sniffing the stocking, because she knew it was hers!

My Dog Gets Cold Feet

I don't think I've ever seen anything like this.

I'm walking my dog and she suddenly appears to get cold feet and can't walk. She's lifting her legs and just hobbling there. So I run over and pick her up and carry her in the house.

I wonder if this comes with age, because I don't remember it from years ago. It's weird.

It's equally weird, unfortunate, that her nature is such that she can't just go to the bathroom. She has to walk around, sniffing everywhere, etc., like dogs do. But I have a human mind. So I know the clock's ticking ... if you don't go pretty soon, your feet are going to get cold and that will be it.

Use your opportunities now. Don't delay. Go while your feet are still warm!

Walking My Dog In The Snow

It's hard to believe we used to have dogs who lived outdoors. In the winter and everything. Except we brought them in if it was bitterly cold, and they stayed in the basement. That was over 40 years ago.

Now we have an inside dog, and I have to take her out, and she gets cold when it's around 20 degrees. She starts moving her feet like they're uncomfortable, and I suppose they are. Well, do your business and we can get in faster.

The last few years I've been carrying her quite a bit of the time. Then we find a spot and I set her down. Still, she doesn't exactly hurry to get it out. She still takes her time sometimes, meaning she's going to get cold.

But I love my dog. I want to keep her as comfortable as possible. So I usually carry her home afterward.

I've tried dog booties. They don't work with my dog. One pair we had was too little. One pair was too stiff. We tried baby socks with Velcro fasteners, but it takes too long to get them on, then they tend to fall off in the snow and it's a mess.

I need to take her out for a quickie before getting ready for bed. I'd love to be in bed in a half hour.

Growing Old Together

I was watching one of my cats going down the stairs the other day, not quite as spry as she used to be. It looked like she was taking very deliberate, almost painful steps. There wasn't anything to indicate pain, but going so slowly it made it look like that to me.

The other cat, a couple years ago or 1½ years ago, was having a hard time climbing. I saw him trying to jump up on something (on their cat box) and he wasn't making it, or making it with difficulty.

But in a gradual recovery, he doesn't seem to have any trouble doing it now. So I don't know. Maybe he had a temporary problem back then.

Both the cats will be 15 in the middle of 2010.

The dog is officially 10 years old and a few months. But she doesn't appear to be slowing down any. But it's all just a matter of time.

Then there's me, us people. We're way older than them, but it's OK to be as old as we are and be human beings. We age Fahrenheit and they're Celsius, so we have lots of extra leeway.

It's interesting to age together. Any other pet, something happens to them. Hit by a car. Strangled somehow. Dies of worms. These three animals look like they're not going to pass on till old age tells them to.

Dogs Live So In The Moment

I took my dog to a scenic place today, so I could get some photos of the first day of Fall.

She had no idea where we were going, of course, since we rarely go there. And since it's a little far, she took the trip with some resentment, since she doesn't like riding in the car long distances.

But when we got there, she was very happy. Frolicking happy. And I'm snap, snap, snapping my pictures and enjoying it myself.

We left and got home, and, as far as I know, that's it for her. There's no hashing it out in her memory, nothing she can say. It was happening now ... but now has moved on.

I, on the other hand, needed to look at the pictures, reduce a few, crop one or two. And I'm definitely still thinking of it.

Happy Fall!

At Least 3 For 3

When my dog "goes," I have to scoop it up in a bag. These days it's a brown paper lunch sack, then then becomes a wad ready for the garbage.

Right by the door we have a garbage can just for this purpose. And I give it a good toss toward the can. And I've made some great shots lately.

Sometimes I miss one, like if I'm not really trying; I might be in a hurry to get going. But starting last night, I've given it a great effort. And I'm 3 for 3 since last night, including a bank shot off the house this morning (good) and a rim shot from about 10 feet away just minutes ago.

Yes! I had to pump my fist on that one.

Never Ending Pet Care

I can't imagine what happens when completely irresponsible people get pets. Their animals must really suffer. I hate everything about suffering animals and can't stand to watch it on TV, like on the Animal Planet channel.

They ought to rename Animal Planet the Sadist and Masochist Network, with all the dog surgery and abused animal shows they have. It's like animal porn and I can't stand to see it when it's on. "Is this the Food Network?" I'm seeing a lot of close-ups of red meat. Then they pull back. No, they're just bandaging up the back haunch of a dog.

Animal Planet is a very sickening channel.

Anyway, animal care is a thing full of responsibility. Meaning I need to forever be on top of the supply of food, cat litter, liner bags, etc. So I'm just about ready to head out to the store to pay the fee for animal companionship.

Girl Watcher

I listened to the record (45 rpm) of "Girl Watcher" by The O'Kaysions. I've always loved this song. And what a great song for summer, huh? (Huh? Huh? Give it to me.)

I love the lyrics and the lascivious, "Umm, umm" the guy does. "Whenever I detect, a member of the other sex..." is part of it. And that cool, "Here comes one now."

Then I was down by the lake and saw a girl floating on an air mattress and the song ran through my head. "Whenever I detect..." as I did right at that moment.

But since I had my dog, that was right when she took a crap and I had to worry about cleaning it up. Then we went the other way toward the garbage and the joy of the moment was lost.

Searching For Mister Stewart

We got on the subject of an old dog from the past, one side of the family, from the '70s. His first name was Mister and his last name Stewart.

But we can't remember when he died, or even if he died, although of course he did and would had to have long before now. There aren't dogs that old.

Yet there's no memory of his death, so I suggested, we put an ad in the paper, "Searching for Mister Stewart," and see how many Mr. Stewarts reply.

The Bo Book

I was at a pet store last night and saw a display of books, obviously dashed off a computer press of some sort quite recently, about President Obama's dog Bo.

I glanced through one. They were $14.95 and published by a place called Mascot Books. Just going by the description in there of Mascot as a publisher, it looks like if you have an idea for a book, they'll work it up somehow, and if it's commercial enough they obviously can produce books and get them distributed pretty fast.

The book was probably 8" x 10", approximately, and maybe 40 pages, and told about Bo, his breed, his activities in the White House, as well as some filler on the activities of presidential pets from years gone by. It covered some recent stuff, so this was fresh. Like the Easter egg hunt and the Jonas Brothers performing for the Obama daughters.

They didn't actually say the Jonas Brothers, though, and I don't think it mentioned the daughters precisely, but there was a trio pictured who looked a lot like the Jonas Brothers and I didn't see Ringo at the drums.

I didn't really take the time to read it, just snippets. It was obviously just a way to cash in, that's the idea, and we're not talking about great literature here. But it was color throughout, with several pieces of artwork of Obama himself, and nicely done. Although they have a weird way of doing the artwork, where parts of the artwork is fuzzed out, out of focus, bringing into focus only part of the picture. I didn't care for that.

One of the most interesting pictures I saw, and remember, Bo was a gift to the Obamas by Teddy Kennedy, was Teddy Kennedy showing up with the dog. It's interesting that such a detail wasn't overlooked. Did Kennedy actually show up and give them the dog?

I'd like to have a Mascot book about my own dogs. I remember my Grandpa showing up and giving my family a dog. It'd bring back lots of great memories to see it in a homemade book. The weird thing about that is that Grandpa rescued this dog from a culvert where he was stuck. And that dog never forgave my Grandpa, because he thought he was attacking him or something. So anytime over the years when Grandpa came by, that dog acted like he wanted to kill him. And we're like, "This is the guy who saved your life, you stupid dog!" (That'd make an interesting two pages right there.)

Anyway, it was a great idea for the book, whoever came up with it. I wonder how many will be sold. As for myself, I wouldn't buy one. But there has to be lots of people who would.

A Fictional Dog No One Else Mentions

It seems to me that there ought to be a mention of every fictional dog and cat. We have Lassie, Rin Tin Tin, Morris the Cat.

I've been reading a book, "The Lead Disk," by LeRoy W. Snell, from 1934, published by Cupples & Leon Co. It's an adventure story for boys about a guy who goes to be a Canadian mounted police officer, and follows the travails he has in the wild. And there's lot of travails. You'd almost think being in the Canadian wilderness back then would be a lonely place. But not in the book.

There's an Indian character in the book who has a dog who's like a cross between a wolf and a dog, a very fearsome (but loyal and good -- good to the right people) animal.

And here is his name -- the only mention on the internet insofar as I've been able to locate it -- are you ready? -- It's Me-tah-nic. Pretty good, huh? And his Indian master's name is Lone Walker. The hero's name in the book is Tom Haley.

Dog Death Anniversary

I just got back from taking my dog -- my current dog -- to the park. She likes to go romp there and of course go to the bathroom repeatedly. I've had this dog for about 10 years.

Our last dog died, and going through some papers today I found a reference to it. I hadn't remembered when the death was precisely. But it turns out that it's tomorrow, May 2. And the year was 1996. So 13 years ago. It's been a while.

It was a very bad day for me 13 years ago. I had a major flat tire on the interstate and had to depend on the very generous kindness of strangers (really) to get everything taken care of. Something was wrong with my spare. I'd driven for years with a spare that didn't actually fit the car! But the strangers involved were very kind.

Then I got home, finally, and learned that this dog had died. And that I needed to bury him.

My Animatronic Dog

I was looking under my dog's chin. It's funny, in a way, the way God has put animals together. You look at a stuffed animal and there are all the normal places that stitches have to be to hold together the assorted pieces making up the thing. You figure it'd be hard to put together a stuffed toy as one piece without stitches. Especially if you were trying to mass produce them. We're all impressed by those guys who carve a realistic boat inside a bottle, or the Chinese, who make boxes within boxes or carve wooden puzzles that somehow retract down into infinity as a single piece, kind of like a Slinky but whittled out.

When it comes to actual animals, though, somehow they're all of one piece, starting out small, yet being what they always will be, then growing in proportions up to their final form. They have fur, skin, bones, the usual array of intestines, a brain, their nature, their natural instincts, then on top of all that (and this seems to me where it'd get dicey) the stuff they're bred with from man's history, like what is particular to breeds, ability to hunt, to dig, to point, to rescue, etc. It's too much for my non-scientific mind.

I'm admiring my dog and always amazed at the combination of physical characteristics, psychological characteristics, instinctual characteristics, and all the things of her particular behavior, what we have taught and what has been conditioned because of our ongoing relationship. It's crazy in a way that all these things could make the dog that sits before me. It's like fiction. But it is obviously real, as real as anything else.

OK, I'm looking under the chin, where stitches might very normally be were she a stuffed animal. And there really is a kind of joining there, not stitches, but something movable and edging by nature into the upper chest. It's not totally smooth and non-distinct. So I tell her, I can see your stitches. And as to her behavior, it's animatronic.

Kibbles and Bits

I decided to switch my dog's food last night. She's been having trouble with the other, which I think is called Purina Seniors 7. The trouble isn't trouble with the dog food exactly, just that she doesn't like it. She likes to pick through it and take out certain pieces and leave the majority of it in the dish.

I was just letting her keep it in her bowl till she got hungry enough to eat it. But I felt bad about that, because I'd like to see her consuming something other than the bag of Pedigree wet food everyday at 5:00 p.m.

So I was checking out the other brands of dog food last night, and it's hard to judge since I'm not eating any of it myself. But I decided to go with a bag of Kibbles and Bits, which I'm sure I've never bought before. Pouring it out it sure looked good and she went wild eating it, seeming to love it.

But maybe too much, since she woke up with a bowel condition, going to the bathroom on the floor a bit much. Then I took her out and nothing. But then, within an hour, again, all over the floor. It reminded me of the children's book, "Everyone Poops." Only I might write a sequel, "But This Much?!"

Her dry bowl is about empty now. It's almost time for the wet. And I think I will only fill the dry bowl halfway and try to ease her into the switch. On the other hand, maybe she's sick from some other reason unrelated to dog food. Maybe it's just a coincidence and nothing to do with the Kibbles.