sugar plums

Midsummer dreaming...

A neighbor's artful Barbie collection

 hangs on her garden fence

so dogs can dream 

of dancing sugar plums.

Makes my dog

positively lecherous.

refraction

The alleys are full of miraculous treasures.

Early one morning, the dog noticed

this unusual doorway

and paused for a moment to refract.

lunatique

enthusiasm

A dog's enthusiasm

is contagious.

Canine oxytocin.

best old friend

A friend emailed an excellent batch of dog pictures.

This one looks exactly like my old first best dog.

We traveled everywhere together.

He balanced stuff on his head, too.

Sorry to all my other dogs, but Al set a high standard.

He still makes us all try harder. 

a dog's rainbow

Casey Klahn has posted an interesting pastel on The Colorist,

called "Dog, detail #1". We couldn't pass up the opportunity.

According to Psychology Today, Jay Neitz at the University of California, Santa Barbara, tested the color vision of dogs and came up with a nice chart.

We have a question...

What's psychology?

cello

Nancy Colella's new puppy is yellow.

So of course, her name's Limoncello.

It's a cute name for a dog,

 More Italian than nog,

And for short, they can just call her Cello.

local fauna

I promised no palm trees, so here's the local fauna report...

First spotting was Sluggo's head in the seat ahead of me. Yikes.

No matter the destination, whenever I have to leave my homedog behind, I sorely miss him. To me, dogs are always as important as anything else. Anyone who knows me knows this is just who I am. So whenever I'm separated from my better half, my canine appendage, my tail if you will, I tend to lose my place and/or my mind and become so distracted by even the sight of a dog that I drift off.

A few sightings yesterday made me realize that I may have a deeper condition than just abject doglove. Seems I have a limit for seeing nothing but humans for too long. The occasional company of any animal does a thing for my oxytocin levels which I can't deny.

I went to down the beach to Sunset Point last night to watch the you-know-what set and was thrilled to run into a familiar dog. She's sort of the official beach-greeter-bitch and is there every evening. An equal-opportunity friend, she seems to know that some people just need to get them some doglove. She always makes me feel good.

When I got back to the house, I was greeted by a little feral cat. We haven't seen our last feral, Fortitude, for a couple of years and miss him every time we come back here. This sweet thing was like a messenger and stayed long enough to meow and yeowl and rub against my ankles 'til they sparked and then was off down the beach.

Then, this morning, I saw my first holy-moly mongoose. Considering their local history, he did nothing for my oxytocin, but I did take note and a picture. It's like a Hawaiian raccoon. Garrett would know just what to do...

3-legged landscape

Last week, I paraphrased Wolf Kahn:

"Paint a landscape because
no one will say you're crazy if you put three legs on it."

Here's my 3-legged landscape.

Boulder at dawn.

I also took a cue from Celeste Bergin
and worked over an old canvas,
a painting of 3-legged dog.
It seemed appropriate.
  

seeing eye dog

Look me in the eye.

Wait...

I have been professionally accused of being indirect.

 Understatement.

This post is a sterling example; let me explain.

With a wild swing from obscurity to brick-upside-the-head,
this is a blind dog.

No doubt it would have worked better
if I had just said that to begin with.
"But what kind of art needs a written explanation?",
I asked myself.
(My apologies to any and all who tried to figure this out.
All three of you.)

O Holy Dog

dream dog

A dog's midwinter's night dream.

alexander's garden

Art is everywhere.

It appears wherever someone stakes a claim.

Here in our neighborhood,

a seven-year-old kid named Alexander works his magic

 on the street corner in front of his house.  

He's carefully laid out an extensive collection of treasures

right there on the sidewalk for all the world to enjoy.

For instance, right there below the fossilized ammonite

 is one of the finest arrowheads I've ever seen.

And now, here's what I consider to be 

Alexander's absolute tour de force...

But wait...

If that weren't enough,

he has an installation directly across the street.

Yes, that's a dollar affixed with Bondo. 

I call it the $1 hydrant.

Garrett doesn't know what he thinks of it.

I suppose that for a dog, it's kind of like

Duchamp's urinal.

bite me

Don't bite the hand that feeds you?

Maybe that's where I went wrong.

I didn't feed the stray who bit me.

Let THAT be a lesson.

lop-eared retriever

reclipse

I'm as much of a heathen as anyone,

so I regret not staying up to see

the totality of the eclipse on the solstice.

But I did see the moon rise that night.

O my Dog.

thanks be to dog

I'm thankful me and the dog did NOT go for a walk yesterday morning because there was a stoned mountain lion staggering up the alley where we walk. The po-leese and the DOW screwed up another bait n switch and had to dart him twice.

As always, I'm thankful I get to go get poked by my acuprincess and that she lets my dog come with me. I'm thankful for the GP/OB/GYN she recommended to me. Dr. OneSwellFoop.

I'm very thankful they both have a decent sense of humor.

hair of the bee

Dogs don't like booze,

so that bit about their hair curing a hangover

makes no sense at all.

On the other hand, taking away the pain of a bee sting

almost instantly by putting a dab of honey on it

works like a charm.

trapped

I'd like to go out on the porch and take photos of some more paintings, but Garrett has his girlfriend Wild L over here to "play", and I'm trapped in here. Without warning, their heavy wrasslin' explodes into dead-out laps around and around the studio. They like to play rough. Actually, calling it "play" is like Ahmadinejad calling his bombs reactors. Occasionally, they call a truce to drink, pant and pee, and I cautiously venture out to check for sports injuries. If I ever do have to go to the house, I run from pillar to post to get there. They're way too fast to shoot a video, but I did get some stills while Garrett chewed on her one afternoon...

He just happened to be on top at this moment; believe me, she gets in her licks, too.

In 2002, Someone apparently thought I was taking my lifelong trust of dogs for granted and taught me the lesson of a lifetime; two dogs, 180 pounds between them, accidentally slammed into my right knee. (Did I already mention this? Sorry, but it made a real impression on me.) They also were playing, but the ensuing 2 surgeries and 10 months of PT put the Fear of Dog into me, so now I let them have the field to themselves. I know it sounds totally out of control, but they'll stop on a dime the instant I call the game. 

A landscaper is coming tomorrow to restore what's left of the yard and has asked me to keep the dogs out of the garden. Right...  So one more round tomorrow morning. Their game is truly hilarious, and they have as much fun as I've ever seen two dogs have. I can wait and take my pictures tomorrow afternoon.   

mary had a little dog

Actually, Mary's dog still lives in my studio, and I've loved having the little guy around. It's hard to let him go, but I called her to tell her about this post and blew my cover. I've been avoiding haggling with her over the price; she's an accountant, and I'm me.