The upcoming Memorial Day holiday makes an old dog reminisce about days gone by, when pups spent the day outside; playing ball, helping with chores and breathing in the fresh clean air.  You don't see the young dogs out much anymore, as they were back in my day.  It seems like they've retreated to their homes, or they're being sent to obedience school or puppy daycare or such.  Their lives are being scripted and micromanaged by their owners, and from an old dog's perspective that's not a good  thing.  In my day the neighborhood children and their dogs would be out romping and playing from early morning until dusk.  There would be a short break for a quick bowl of chow and a drink for lunch.  If I was lucky I'd get a bite of my own child- master's sandwich and I'd hope that he or she would spill a little lemonade so I could taste the tart sweetness.  The dogs would play along (I admit, at times we were tied to a tree in the shade) as the kids played sandlot baseball or soccer or tennis.  There was so much laughter and energy!  On some days the kids would take hikes along the pond and search for muskrats or turtles or frogs.  I came along to chase away the Canadian geese, and protect the kids from any coyotes that might happen by.  You never knew what other dogs and neighbor kids you might run into and how the day might turn out.  Not back then, in the good old days.

     I look out my window and see a parade of dogs and their owners taking nice planned walks along the road out front.  I'd like to join them, but I still haven't figured out how to open that darn front door.  Besides, the masters probably wouldn't approve, it's not in today's plan. It seems like dogs and kids have their lives preplanned and scripted these days.  There's always someplace to be, and some club that your kid has to be in.  When the children are home, they often spend the day watching television or playing video games.  These things aren't very interactive from a dog's point of view.  Why not go out and have real adventures of your own?  Why not see what the day brings if you spend it outside, interacting with nature and other animals?  Have your dog show you how, if it's a skill that you've forgotten. I can only tell you that back in my day it was great fun.  It provided memories that have lasted a lifetime. Being in clubs and planning every days activities down to the minute might have some benefits too.  I guess whatever is gained in one direction is lost in another.  We dogs recommend that you spend the holiday, and most of the upcoming summer, without a watch and without a compass. It would be a summer that you would reminisce about and regard fondly, when you're an old dog yourself ,someday. 

    

 

     I consider myself to be an optimistic, friendly dog on average.  I'm usually not ruffled by the various knocks that a dog takes as he tries to deal with the vagaries of life.  I may bark a little here and there, and have a few angry moments; but over time my behavior and temperament stops meandering and reverts back to the mean, the average Buffy-like countenance.  You probably know what I mean to say , as you likely have an average look that describes your own typical demeanor and appearance. The mean is a tough taskmaster.  It acts like gravity and pulls down all of my efforts to fly via change and self improvement, back towards the norm.  I may set out one day with a plan to be the best dog I can be for 24 hours; soon as I know it some angry, crabby dog gets me riled and I revert back to my mean.  In my case that's a well intentioned poodle, trying to be better, but unable to be as saintly as I would like to be.  My mean behavior is inside my head; it's hardwired and software programmed into my consciousness.  It seems that despite all of my efforts, it's hard to rise above my average level of greatness. Perhaps you too find it difficult to rise above your own normal brilliance.  Still, it is possible to improve yourself, given the will and the effort.  Changing the meanness of society is a more difficult task. 

     Socrates, a famous dog from ancient times, if I have that right; maintained that while it's possible to change oneself, it's near impossible to improve the nature of society.  I might have to agree with my main dog on that point.  Our efforts at changing dog society through manipulation of the social, political and educational systems are sometimes effective in the short run. They may actually move the mean upwards , in a positive direction.  That is progress, but the mean still persists.  Remove the props and supports of those manipulations, and canine social comity quickly comes crashing down to its wild , animal-like state.  Humans, too, have seen once civilized countries revert back to the mean, and have seen their citizens behave like kennels full of angry territorial animals.  The ability to change oneself from within, as Socrates notes, can be accomplished through education, self-will, and self criticism.  One can only hope that enough other dogs buy into that concept, and that they can agree on what type of change is positive for all. The presence of that mean mean suggests otherwise. 

     If you want to settle down a kennel full of barking dogs, give each of them a steak bone and they'll be quiet for awhile.  Take a picture, record the quiet, and preserve the moment for posterity.  The bones will soon be picked clean and things will revert back to the mean.  Amidst the barking and the clamor, perhaps there will be a few dogs willing and able to rise above the average, and  pull enough other dogs in their direction. A dog who espouses a saner, kinder world must begin with himself.  He must strive nail by nail, paw by paw; one way or another, this way or that; to rise above the pack, and make the world a little less harsh in his or her own way. If he is in the right place at the right time, he might even change society. He must find his own higher meaning in eliciting the means, to reduce the meanness of the mean. Hopefully the final end of his efforts doesn't involve hemlock.( if you know what I mean.)

     I am often called  upon to do discreet inquiries of sordid goings on, like possible violations of my subdivision's architectural control policy, on behalf of my pater and mater humans. If there is the smell of danger in the air, my nose is out there on the scent of the possible perpetrator.  At times I will be called upon to ferret out just what other animals might have visited my backyard during the night, and whether their purpose was sinister.  When a stranger visits, the knock on the door stirs me to action.  I rush to the window to see just who might be visiting our domicile, and whether violent action might be necessary to defend the family unit.  Protecting the territory is a solemn duty every dog partakes in on behalf of his master.  When the human dinner is cooking (which I hope to share), I quiz myself to see if I can identify the ingredients by the chemical signature the aromas leave on my supersensitive olfactory lobes.  I can do Crime Scene Investigations and I don't even need a lab, it's all built in. If I had to work for a living, I'd like to be a private investigator dog. First, I need a proper nom de plume.  

Buffy Hammer?
Buffy McNally?
Barnaby Buffy?
Buffy Rockford?
Buffy Hammer?
Buffy Spade?
Horatio Buffy?

     Which name and personality is the best fit?  I love a good mystery.  Now where did my tail go?  I was chasing it earlier, and I can't seem to remember  where it went. Perhaps an assistant would be helpful in my new business. If you're willing, I could use a Watson to my Sherlock. Be prepared for danger, the Architectural Control Committee meets this Monday!

Buffy Holmes (Investigator Extraordinaire)

 

 

     From a very early age, the conscientious canine is instructed by the more experienced dogs in his pack on the fine art of "Doggin It".  The Way of Doggin It is taught in the gradeschools of dogdom, and eventually many dogs obtain graduate degrees in the discipline.  Doggin It takes on spiritual overtones as the mystically inclined dog in the process of Doggin It is known to levitate, and is able to decrease her respirations to near zero.  While many are drawn to the active life and to the need to succeed in dog society, the dog who gains a knack for Doggin It will find personal success in the ability to live on her own terms, unrestrained by the dictates of society.  She will follow her own inner vision, and become master of her own domain.  All the while, she will look like she's just a common everyday dog, shuffling along in harmony with nature.  She will never run too fast, she will never look like she's trying too hard.  Such is the fine Art of Doggin It.  It can take a lifetime to master.
     As best friend to humanity, a dog like myself would exhort you human types to look into this more noncompetitive, self realizing type of physical-spiritual actualization.  If you would tone down the hyper meter about 10 points you'll increase your happiness level by about 20 percent.  Instead of working yourself ragged, try forgetting about the next high tech toy that you have to buy, and work on your shuffling, lazy type walk instead.  You need to relax all of your muscles, your shoulders will bob up and down as you saunter, there will be no tension in your body. You have to walk like there's no place you really have to get to, because you have everything under control.  You won't drive too fast, or scream when you wait in line too long, try to steal something from another person, or engage in any aggressive behavior because Doggin It will settle your soul.  You'll learn to make everyday a Sunday. When another human asks how you came to be such a wise person, and why you exude such a spiritual aura, tell them you've been studying the ancient fine Art of Doggin It.  Then ask them if they have any food that they can give you, and a place where you can stay.  Hopefully, your mark hasn't become too advanced in the fine Art of Doggin it himself!

Buffy (Doggin It Master)

P.S.:  Some of you may have heard the term "doggin it" used in a pejorative sense, as an insult or as a description of a lazy, procrastinating manner.  This is a human perversion of the term and does not reflect the actual meaning of the phrase as it originated in the dog community.  

 

     Where are the heroes of yesteryear?  What has happened to our country?  It used to be that the airways were filled with primetime dog stars.  The dearth of dogs gracing the cover of TV Guide and leading the Sunday night primetime ratings is a measure of how our country has gotten away from absolute principles.  Lassie was our Ronald Reagan!  That stalwart dog represented all that was right and good about America.  Now we are left with pretenders to carry on the canine tradition of loyalty, forbearance and temperance.  Today we have Desperate Housewives engaged in illicit affairs , and we are all the poorer for the loss of Lassie's positive motherly message of caring, nurturing, family values and life saving heroics.  Sunday night TV meant something back in the day. I wish I had lived back then, when dogs were dogs, and it was morning in America. Ronald Reagan probably watched Lassie, and got some of his material from studying her character. I seem to recall Lassie barking something about  "morning in America" in one of her episodes. She was giving an inspirational speech to the neighbor dogs and trying to get their cooperation . She wouldn't have minded that someone else used her message, as long as it was for a good cause.  Where would America be today without us dogs?

 

     Remember when Marlon Brando refused his Oscar for The Godfather and had an American Indian, Sacheen Littlefeather decline it for him at the ceremony?  He was protesting the treatment of American Indians in movies and on television.  That's how I feel about dog shows.  I will not accept the award for Best Dog in Show, even if I am nominated by acclamation and happen to win.  I know it's a long shot, and that's why I'm ready to make such a pronouncement.  If I do win, I'll send a rescue dog in my place to decline the award.  This will demonstrate my social consciousness to other dogs the world over, and should rile the blue blood organizers who are making money by exploiting purebred, well fed, charismatic dogs.  These dogs don't realize that this exploitation harms the cause of other dogs who aren't as fortunate as they are.  People begin to think that every dog should be a show dog, and prance around and do tricks.  Humans start to expect their dogs to obey them, just like the television dogs do.  It's a vicious circle. (The circle is vicious , not the dogs)

     With my tail clipped by my breeder into some stubbie malformation, I realize I may never get a shot at declining Best of Show at Westminster.  Still, how many dogs write a blog like I do?  Academic talent always takes a back seat to looks and athletic ability, don't you think?  If you want to nominate me for some prestigious award, instead take the money and your attention and buy your dog some special treats and give her an extra hug!  Tell her that Buffy is responsible for your largesse, and her good fortune.  I know my real constituency  for Best on Planet designation is my fellow dogs, and I'm not above using politics or small bribes to get their vote.  That's an award I won't decline.  I hope it's edible.

Buffy (Best Dog in her Home)

 

     There are some bad dogs out there, with dark hearts. Did they get that way because of their environment ?  Or is it that they were born defective, or evil if you will. That's a tough question, it's difficult to control for the variables.  Maybe the evil doer never got any puppy love.  Maybe they're just doggin it, and don't deserve any understanding or compassion.  It's difficult to know where the distinction between a good dog and a bad dog lies, given the complexities that the whips and scorns of time offer to the animal negotiating his way through life's challenges.  A mean, ornery dog might be that way because he was abused.  Then again he might just have a few wires loose in his brain.  Dogs don't "strategerize" about things like humans sometimes do.  Not many humans would grant a dog the benefit of a soul or any chance of eternal life.  I guess that's why a dog tends to take it a day at a time.  If a dog is hungry, he'll take your food when you're not looking.  He doesn't have to worry about morality, or any future black mark on his soul.  If a dog was to invade another dog's yard in order to control its food supply, it would just do it if it could get away with it.  On the lower animal level it's all about power and opportunity, don't you think?  

     You humans have larger brains, greater intelligence, and souls so I imagine that you don't have these kind of "lower" animal problems. You do tend to premeditate and "strategerize" though, and this conscious decisiveness  makes your evil act a couple of  shades darker than a dog's spontaneous indiscretion.  Despite the occasional bad dog, in general we dogs have empathetic emotional systems, large hearts and we lack the organizational skills to form armies and invent weapons of mass destruction.  That's a plus for us, even if we do steal a bit of hot dog here and there.  I guess both of our species have our challenges in making light out of the darkness. We complement each other in important ways; we prop up each other's weaknesses. When you're training us to be good dogs and submit to your authority, be sure you're guiding us in the right direction. We'll try to do the same for you.  

Thanks, 

Buffy
  
 

 

     You may wonder at times why your dog is eating grass, and what that means as far as the dog's state of physical health, and possibly about the status of his mental well being.  Humans don't eat a lot of grass I've heard, unless it's in brownies?  The chocolate must aid in the digestion of the cellulose?  I've never tried smoking a ryegrass, but I've heard about humans rolling a joint of grass and smoking it, and that has something to do with grass as a medicine?  A curious dog, like the inquisitive human, can sometimes be an explorer of altered states of reality; and take a solitary journey into the nether regions of the mind. Picture yourself in a boat on a river....... 
    
    The subtleties of the different varieties of grass and weed are lost on the human, but well recognized by the dog.  He has used the mystical powers imbued by the alkaloids within for his daily dog devotions for centuries.  When he gets home from his walk and returns to a comfortable perch, he takes another kind of trip, a journey of intense introspection.  He explores the antipodes of the mind, and gives meditative reflection to the doors of perception.  Flowers and insects take on exaggerated size and color, and rabbits of white run across the purple landscape, apparently late for important dates.  Bent grass causes mindbending hallucinations in 4 dimensions as Mind at Large is twisted and turned through the reducing valve of ego that normally governs the portal.  Ryeglass inflicts a sarcastic manner laced with spontaneous hysterical laughter.  Indian grass induces transcendent mystical interpretations with heightened perception of the transfigured redrock landscape.  Big bluestem amplifies mood indigo so be sure to keep some prozac handy.  The enlightened, grass inspired dog, sees every sound and hears every color in a vivid technicolor rainbow of music . A ravenous appetite soon ensues as the munchies arrive in this Land of Oz.  The dog and the world unite as one. His toenail takes on archetypal metaphysical significance, and vibrates on a 5th dimensional plane in rhythm with choral Gregorian chant accompaniment. He soon solves the mystery of the univ..


     Buffy, stop eating that grass.  You're going to throw up!

    Oh, sorry! Where was I.............. Oh, a bit of a headache there.  In case you were wondering, it seems that this has all been a walking daydream. Just a fantasy.  It must have been inspired by hearing you humans talking about "grass" and its relaxing properties.  Used for medical purposes only of course.  Maybe it was inspired by something I heard on the news, or read in a book, or by some conversation I overheard. Wild!.............  but then again, I was chewing on a little Bahia grass a little earlier. It did taste especially sweet !  And now for some reason, I feel very hungry?

Sincerely,

Buffy

Nature is metaphor for the Soul.
The beauty and violence of objective Nature
Mirrors a radiant but chaotic subjective Self.
The unconditioned animal mind inhabits the interface,
When in a state of pure awareness the receptive vessel
Is sensitive to the influence of both Nature and Spirit.
Characteristic behavior and instinctual response demonstrate
The revealed truth of that unique convergence of matter and energy
That forms and illuminates each particular animal soul.
Though rescued from the hazards of the hunt 
By domestication and civilization,
The respectable animal is always just
A step away from a return to untamed Nature,
To its delights and its brutalities.
As beauty and radiance meet violence and chaos,
The inner and the outer become one,
as Nature greets Soul
In the call of the wild.

 

     I don't know how it is with you humans, but we dogs spend a lot of time daydreaming.  I spend a little time each day wondering what it would be like to have superpowers and invulnerability. As SuperBuffy. I would be patrolling the skies over Wind Meadows, my subdivision.  The huge flocks of geese that now have run of the pond would be taken down in dogfights reminiscent of the great Baron von Snoopy!  The real Superdog, Krypto,  hailed from the planet Krypton just like Superman.  I never met this defender of truth and justice, but I'm happy that he always performed his duties the American Way. Some dogs have gotten away from that lately.  I believe Superdog still has a condo on earth for use when he's not on super galactic jaunts through interstellar space.  Superdog had a secret identity as Skip, when he was growing up with Clark Kent on their farm in Smallville.  I heard he preferred Lana to Lois, at least that's what Dog Entertainment News reported some time back.  Superdog was a hero, as he was sent from Krypton to test the rocket type that would be used to send Kal-El (Superman) to earth.  I wonder if I would have had that kind of courage?  In the early space program of Russia, real dogs were sent into earth orbit to test conditions in space.  Would I have that kind of chutzpah?  Well of course!  I am Buffy and quite magical in my own right!  Of course, I was not born back at that time, so no none ever asked.  It's too bad that now I'm too old, and I've got that hangnail that's been bothering me .  But no doubt, given the chance, I could have been a Superdog in my prime:)