Motel 6. Not.

It is often thought that urban living is dangerous. Certainly there are dangers and inconveniences for dogs who live in the city. Leash laws! Ugh! Persnickety individuals who mistake herding instincts for aggressive behavior. Ugh! Ask Radley if you don't believe me. But the real dangers are in the places where there is just enough urban to make for paved streets and just enough rural to allow coyotes to stray through. They were milling about from the early hours this morning. It was all I could do to drive them off. Boss thinks there is something noble and individualistic about them, although to his credit, he does think I am noble enough and individualistic enough for his taste and for our relationship. I do not think, he has told me recently, that I could forge a relationship with a coyote that comes close to what we have. I believe, he said, that we are a remarkably good fit. Well enough that he realizes. What coyote, for instance, would take such an interest in his work? What coyote would take pleasure in his company? What coyote would bestir himself or herself to travel with him to Woodside, when he hosts those writing persons every other month? What coyote would endure the rigors of a Motel 6 just to be with him? And now that I think about it, what dean would suggest that a coyote be the mascot of the department?

It is a no brainer. Coyotes should be seen from a distance--a great distance.

On Guard

Awakened at about three this morning by the ululation of coyotes. Thought seriously about getting up a petition.

Boss told me to sleep on it.

Later this evening, as I began my usual run up Greenwell Road, I saw another. Gave chase.

Humans have mosquitoes. Dogs get stuck with the real work.

Coyotes. Oh, please! There goes theneighborhood.

Probable Worst Day of Week

Woke up growling at about 3 this morning. Imagine Google imposing an age 13 barrier on blog sites. Yeah, yeah; that's for kids. Why should a dog have to wait? No sense to it. Got back to sleep with a neat dream about chasing a rabbit on Greenwell, shearing off just once to hurrah Kit, the three-legged Aussie, who lives in the roadside estate. Good dog for a three-legger. Up betimes, as P. would say in his journals, for a walk with A., who stopped by J's to pick up Fido. Some morning dampness and fog along Mountain Drive. Good for holding in scents. Got a good whiff of a possum, a deer, and a coyote. Damn few coyotes in the area. Was relieved when Fido missed scenting the skunk down by the stream. Last time Fido scented a skunk, we both paid for it. I am not big on baths in general, but a tomato juice bath? Forget it.

Home to wake up the Boss, watch him struggle with making coffee. Thursdays probably my worst day of the week, but I'll probably get a good morning run at Toro Canyon, either before or after Boss has lunch with C. Might even get a second shot at Toro when Boss goes to Summerland to meet F. for more manuscript stuff. Three dogs on Toro Canyon, all yowling and snarling when I come by. They hate the fact that they are behind a fence and I am not. Well, buzz off, you yahoos. You may live in a neat estate near the park, but I am not without credentials. Dean K. of the Master in Professional Writing Program at USC has named me mascot of the program. Great campus, although Boss assures me UCLA has more wild life to sniff. Still, lots of lawn to roll on. SC students often leave portions of meat sandwiches, which are nice to bury in the soft loam of the new planting beds. Boss says if I am not careful, I'll have sub sandwiches blossoming before very long.

Spring break now, which means no stopping at Deer Creek on the way down to L.A. While it is true that I love Greenwell, and Toro Canyon, and the SC campus, there is nothing--nothing like Deer Creek. The tangy iodine scent from off the ocean. Crisp bite of white ceanothus. Coyote. Deer. Once even caught a whiff of mountain lion pee. That's the place for me. Deer Creek. Just saying it puts me in a good mood. Doesn't hurt that we stop at Art's Deli after class. Pastrami. Brisket. Corned beef. Not bad.

Last time we were on campus, I got an itch on my back and rolled over on the grass to give it a scritch. Some student walking by. Said, "Hey, that dog is comfortable!"

Comfortable, I don't know. But I make a living.