All in a Day's Work

Boss has given me one of my favorite snacks, a lamb shank bone. Dogs particularly and cats at times are not known for exchanging tangible things. Being pack animals, we exchange presence and status rather than artifacts. We express ourselves by giving presence, by basking in the sense of pack. Boss has told me on numerous occasions that one of his favorite visions of me is of me, at somewhat of a distance from him, running toward him. He first noticed and recorded this impression some time back, when he began taking me with him to teach down below at USC. We were separated and I was hanging out with ENK, who then pointed him out to me, approaching from a distant building. I ran to greet him. He stood, arms outstretched, awaiting me, somehow in that gesture even taller than he is now. Over the years, we have reenacted this ritual many times, celebrating the sense of joining that is pack. Often, at night, when I have settled in on or near my bed and he in his, he will tell me how comforting it is to see me where I am. Groggy with settled-in sleep, I am aware of his voice. I understand from his tone that he has learned a thing or two about being a pack. We are a relatively small pack, but we get the work done.

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.