Tag, I'm What?

So I have been tagged with a meme, which could not come at a more difficult time since I'm up to my puppybutt keeping coyotes, racocons and possibly dragons away from the house. Approaching holiday season is never easy on a dog.

Also two trips a week to teach, a Saturday workshop, and tomorrow the Bay Area for a workshop.

The one shining thing is that Z. got an award of 50000 smackers. You go, Big Z!

Tag, I'm What?

24/7 on the Job

Up betimes as SP used to write in his daily journal, picking up Fido and then out for the morning patrol. I caught the scent right out of the car, had to get Fido to back me up on this.

A bobcat. Hissing and spitting the way cats do, but we treed the sucker, showed him what for.

Like whatsisname, the president, GWB. Mission accomplished. Only mine was. You are now able to move safely along Mountain Drive without fear of bobcats.

No, don't thank me, just get out of the way; I've got work to do.

Maybe a little nap after breakfast.

Dogs Need Palmpilots

I need an intern. Perhaps a young Border Collie or a pure ACD, someone to tend to the basics. I already have my paws full, making sure Boss gets to his classes, workshops, that oh so long late night whatever it is he does at the writers' conference. I have my own duties. Mascot for the whole graduate writing program. Trips to the Bay area for workshops there. Stops along the way to get a sense of what's going on in the Interior. And coyotes! Jeez! Last night, I had to fight off at least twenty, keening, and barking, and snarling. At least sixteen, maybe even ten; surely six from the sound of their voices. One dog cannot get it all in and still maintain order. I'm thinking maybe someone in The College of Creative Studies at UCSB or perhaps one of Boss's better students at Antioch. An intern, that's the ticket.

My summer routine

Up early because some monster is prowling around outside, looking for ways to jimmy the front door, maybe murder up the place. (I could stand to see the cats go, but there is a trade-off in that with no cats, then no cat food which, because of some dumb rule, has more protein per volume than dog food has.)

Dispatched the monster.

Got some sleep, but woke self up snoring. Got to work on that.

Cat's food for breakfast, then a ride over to Fido's, pick him up, then over to Cold Springs Trail for a stroll. No real action. Some raccoons had been there and a rabbit, but you call that action.

Home for more breakfast and a snooze.

Helped Boss get started on an overdue book review.

Another snooze, then off on a photo shoot with Boss and LNK, who doesn't like it when I use her middle name. She is all, how will I get used to this new prime, an 85. She worries about lenses, LNK. I pretty much take what comes.

I think they got some images.

Home for another snooze before dinner, which was not bad. Swordfish. Never had a run-in with one, but I'm certain I could take one if it started acting, you know, uppity.

Out for a walk in Hale Park. Saved their sorry asses from a coyote. They might have handled it. Might. But I put the little sucker to rout fast enough.

Another day, another coyote.

Do I get any thanks?

Actually, I think they recognize they'd have long since been toast without me.

A Dog's Guide to the Better Universities

Negotiations completed. My letter of acceptance is in, and I have signed. My first official act was to demonstrate my alpha-dog status to the statue of Tommy Trojan. I think the gig pays off after a time with an honorary degree. I rather like the sound of Dr. Sally.

http://www.usc.edu/dept/LAS/mpw/students/index.php

A Dog's Guide to Dumb Places in Los Angeles

For two hours they're driving me around the Valley side of Los Angeles, making me suspicious in the first place because who goes to the Valley in Los Angeles but dog catchers and Republicans. Then they start down the 405 southbound and they're looking for Getty Circle Drive, which can only mean I'm going to log some in-car time, right?

They promise me Art's Deli for lunch, but first it's going to be Nice doggie, stay in the car, right?

Which isn't too bed a deal because, to tell the truth, I feel a nap coming on.But then we get into the parking lot and bingo, here we go. No pets. Sally is not a pet, Boss says, Sally is a dog. No dogs.

We don't want to take her into the museum.

No dogs in the parking lot. Pull your care over here and make a left turn out onto the road.

Okay, so they think fast and go to the parking lot across the street, the lot for the L___ B____ Temple. Nice man, that L____B____. Yeah, sure. They have an attitude in the parking lot there, too.

How about, I suggest, we forget this Mickey Mouse and go to Art's? I could handle some pastrami.

Boss gets behind this plan and we are off to lunch it up, then go on in to drop of grades and maybe pee on the USC lawn, show the world a dog's on the job.

Boss says piss on the Getty.

I wouldn't.