Today, dear reader, I am three years old. I feel wiser, stronger, and more mature. I have learned much of the world and seen many incredible things. There are still more wonders to come. Oh, those innocent days when I looked like a misshapen guinea pig and life was simple–when all I knew was the warmth of my littermates as we slept together and the strict love of our mother. I am happy in this life. Man and Woman are a good family to me, and I have many companions as well as my quest, of course.
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‘My mind,’ he said, ‘rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most abstruse cryptogram or the most intricate analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. I can dispense then with artificial stimulants. But I abhor the dull routine of existence. I crave for mental exaltation.’
I have not told you, dear reader, about one of my hobbies. I have engaged in a lengthy apprenticeship with Man, who loves working on cars. Since he was a boy, he has worked on old cars, most notably a Jaguar XJ6L and the MGB you see before you.
I have felt very grown up and responsible, now that Man has allowed me to assist him in his technical labors. I oversee all his work, and sometimes provide moral support or distraction, which are important parts of the process.
I have learned a lot about how these metal beasts function, and would pit my knowledge against that of any other canine. I am invigorated by the scent of the oils and the heat of the welding. I love the mental exercise of problem-solving with Man to create the ultimate vehicle, which might even run faster than I can on my own mortal legs.
My only complaint is that the MGB is a little small for a dog of my–majesty. I can’t sit comfortably on the floor or the seat. As a passenger, I prefer the family SUV, though as a connoisseur and mechanic-in-training, I share Man’s passion for vintage cars. Best of all, I love the Man-dog time we spend together, which has deepened our relationship.
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I had some fun with my last poem, so I thought I would give another one a try! After all,
To be a poet is a condition, not a profession.
-Robert Frost, courtesy of quotegarden.comMy Favorite Things Carrots, broccoli, peanut butter! Could there be anything better? Carrots: moist, crunchy… Brocolli: textured, fun to chew to bits. Peanut butter: sticks on my tongue as I lick it— salty, sweet, perfect. Let’s not forget the cold Yoghund and Frosty Paws! Ice cream: perfection. *image of yoghund from http://www.yoghund.com/products/index.php *image of FrostyPaws from https://www.facebook.com/FrostyPaws
Reflections on Time Spent in a ConeVision restricted, and I can’t lick what itches and the world is terrible. Frustration leads to low grumbling and I blunder into furniture. Woman and Man are deaf to my soft whines of woe: patient love tested. Finally, I sigh in resignation to my term in cone prison. Then, I sigh again in case they didn’t hear me. Miserable boredom.
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I have had the good fortune to meet a new friend, Murphy. Sadly, Murphy lives many hours away, but his people are Woman’s cousin and her boyfriend, so I am certain that our paths will cross again.
Murphy and I had much in common, in particular our passion for ball chasing and catching, as well as for good, old-fashioned running.
Murphy is quite young, at nearly a year old. I was impressed by the way his paws seemed barely to touch the ground as he ran and pranced gracefully in play.
I quite enjoyed meeting Murphy, who seemed a sensible and skillful dog whose company I look forward to enjoying again. I think I’ll give up tennis, though. The pavement of the court was a bit rough on my pads.
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The sun does not shine upon this fair earth to meet frowning eyes, depend upon it
-Charles Dickens, courtesy of litquotes.com
As spring has turned to summer, I have continued to follow Mr. Bailey’s advice to live life to the fullest and wait for the answer to the coyote question to come to me, at least for now. I have been spending a good deal of time paying visits to Mr. Bailey’s home and enjoying the summer sun, the soft earth and the feel of the gentle wind in my fur as I romp around the yard.
Mr. Bailey confided in me that Woman’s brother, who is currently staying in Mr. Bailey’s home, will be getting a puppy in a few days’ time. I congratulated him, but Mr. Bailey expressed some reservations.
“I am not as young as I once was, despite my incredible athleticism, Humphrey. Puppies are exhausting and they get into everything.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” I said to Mr. Bailey. “Yet, puppies also sleep a lot, so you’ll still have some time to yourself.”
Mr. Bailey seemed somewhat cheered by this and joined me for a stroll in the summer sunshine.
After we’d run around a bit, Mr. Bailey went in to check on his people and I decided to go for a swim. In the past, when I went for the pond, which often smells intriguingly strongly of algae and which provides a home for several slippery frogs, Man and Woman would say “No, stop!” but today they seemed resigned that I would swim. It was a hot day. They threw the stick for me a bit, and I enjoyed my splash in the pond, though I did hear the word “bath” bandied about quite a bit as I leaped in and out of the water.
It was easy today, in this gorgeous weather, to recapture the feeling I’ve often had of my own connection to nature. I could not help but wonder if the coyotes, in retracing my steps and Mr. Bailey’s, could sometimes imagine themselves part of our domestic sphere in the same way that I could often feel myself to be a creature of the forest.