I love a good mystery.  Like trying to remember where I hid my favorite ball.  Like whether or not I'm going to get a walk on a given day.  Or like how dogs happen to be here, when it seems like it's against astronomical odds that the laws of nature are such that conscious beings like we dogs are here to witness a universe with ourselves in it.  Mystery is what makes the world an interesting place.  It's the fact that a dog doesn't know everything; that things occur randomly at times, but maybe, just maybe, he or she can determine the facts from the clues that can be unearthed.  A feeling of satisfaction is elicited as the theory of one's case is confirmed by events occurring as you predicted they would.  It's the scientific method at work.   

     Some cultures claim to have solved the mystery of existence by employing Supreme Beings who made the universe out of nothing.  Some maintain that the Supreme Being always existed, being eternal and all, and that humans and dog ancestors were created because the Being was lonely, or in need of entertainment.  I guess that's a possibility, although such a scenario takes the mystery out of things.  The Supreme Being is usually inscrutable, and is not keen on sharing his methodology for creation, or his rationale for inventing such things as DNA, dogs, and humans. It's fine to have a theory that a certain Supreme Being created the universe; it's when you stop wondering and become certain about such things that trouble often ensues. At least that's how it appears to us dogs.

     Although dogs have their own mythologies that employ the BIG DOG and omnipotent powers and such, these things are not taught to young dogs with any detailed certainty.  Supreme Dog Beings are helpful when used in literature, as symbols of tradition and teachers of morality.  As in Aesop's Fables, these BIG DOG Beings can be used in allegory and metaphor in order to tell important stories.  They aren't very useful in science books though, or in mysteries.  Otherwise it's like knowing that the end of every mystery is that the butler did it.  If the end of every dog's search for the truth is that the BIG DOG just decided everything arbitrarily, then life loses its sparkle; everything is determined, there's no need for inquiry, there's nothing new to discover.  Where did dogs come from?  I'm still working on wondering about that.  My wonder years will likely last throughout all of my life.  I hope so!  (Right now, I'm wondering what the family is making for supper?)

Buffy
Wonder Dog!

 

     I'm generally regarded as the wisest dog in my subdivision, and definitely the most connected.  My circle of friends and acquaintances developed over my eleven dog years of existence includes almost all of the dogs, and many of the humans in my borough.  When grave matters that need discerning judgement arise, these dogs often turn to me to make a judgment that will be viewed as fair; and because it carries my imprimatur, will be respected by all of the parties concerned.  The Poodle family has been the dominant dog breed in Wind Meadows for many years.  We know where all of the old bones are buried.  We know which grasses are the tastiest, and control access to the best swimming holes on the pond.  In the last few months, a number of  young Pit Bulls  have moved into the neighborhood, and I have received intelligence that indicates that they may be forming alliances that may challenge my power and authority.  Frankly, I eschew power and all of its trappings.  I believe that all of the breeds can live together in harmony; if wisdom prevails, and I remain in charge.

     As I indicated earlier, my authority in helping settle dog disputes derives from my keen intelligence and Solomon-like wisdom.  There was one serendipitous occurrence early in my career as dog donness that cemented my authority, and may have something to do with the willingness of the other dogs to follow me.  I had just hosted a Rottweiler in my doghouse the day before.  He came to me with complaints, saying that because he was a fierce fighter, he should receive extra payouts from the stash of bones that our collective controls.  He got angry when I argued the merits of our usual method of distribution, and he went off barking and snarling.  I was worried that perhaps I wasn't seeing his side of things, so I decided to invite him over the next day and offer him a week's supply of of the tastiest grass on the prairie, if he would consider sanctioning our usual way of doing things.  He left this time without all of the histrionics, and said he would mull things over and let me know his decision the next day.  I told the other dogs that I had made him an offer he couldn't refuse.  I explained that they should never hate their rivals, it affects your judgement.  The next day arrived, and the Rottweiler didn't show up for our planned meeting.  In fact, he was never seen again in our neighborhood.  Talk among the dogs was that I had scared the Rottweiler away, or had him disposed of in some sordid manner.  Those dogs that know me well, knew that that wasn't the case. They know  that I'm a mild dog despite my fierce bark.  I later heard my masters talking to the owners of the Rottweiler.  They indicated that the dog had run away after a coyote, and had not been seen since.  They believed that the Rottweiler may have gotten lost, or perhaps the coyote had injured or killed the dog.  I kept this information close, and my reputation grew as a result.  I don't apologize for the decisions I've made.

     I never wanted this life for the young poodles in the subdivision.  When it comes to controlling the distribution of fine, aged bones, it's strictly business.  I don't like violence, I'm a businessdog.  Dog blood is bad for the milk bone business.  I thought I'd make another try for peace with the new Pit Bulls who want to get into dangerous areas of lemongrass trafficking.  These dogs don't realize the deleterious effects such weeds can have on the pups.  I sent the head Pit Bull a gift that I found down by the pond.  It was a number of fish that some humans had left on the shore.  They looked fresh and tasty so I wrapped them in some old newspapers I found in the house, and sent them to the young dogs as a peace offering.  The next day, the group of upstarts came to my lieutenants and made an offering of steaks to the poodles of the neighborhood.  I was pleasantly surprised to find that my gift of fish had had such a strong effect on their opinion.  I later learned that the newspaper that I had used to wrap the fish had carried a story about the missing Rottweiler.  I also learned that my offer of fish wrapped in this newspaper had been misconstrued.  These young dogs thought I meant that the missing Rottweiler sleeps with the fishes, and that I put him there.  Where they got such an idea is a mystery to me.

     The lead Pit Bull still wouldn't see the light.  I agreed to speak to this dog in back of one of the neighborhood restaurants.  He had along a couple dog friends.  I came alone.  We barked, but nothing came of it.  Growing weary, I excused myself and said, "Do you mind if I go to the bathroom?"  Like I said, I don't believe in violence.  I myself wonder what happened to those 3 dogs.  Some of the other dogs ask me if I was responsible for their disappearance.  I just say "no".

     There's a new plot of flowers right next to my doghouse in the back yard.  It's in between my house, and the house where my lieutenants stay. It's good to know that my companions are nearby. As I've always said, keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer:)

The Dogmother
Buffy


P.S.  I seem to have scribbled this story during a dream.  You all know that I'm a meek, scholarly dog and that I would never act in the manner of the dog described above.  I think I'll go and wake the family.  As I've always said, a dog that doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real pet.

 

       I've been watching a lot of old movies lately. Some of them are dog themed, of course, but others feature attractive humans who possess elegant, refined character and carry themselves with a certain grace and humility. I guess this type of human reminds me of myself in so many ways; so I tried to come up with the word that best describes creatures such as these.  Sophisticated is the word, I think.  Sophisticated ladies like myself, and these humans who possess similar qualities, are world wise with educated tastes.  We have a natural scent for quality when it comes to food, music, and art; and in the case of human sophisticates, clothes. While the sophisticated appearance can be learned, it seems to be an attribute that certain people (and certain dogs) are born with.  A real sophisticate is a fine specimen of an animal. She is always trying to improve herself but still puts others first.  All the while she maintains an easy insouciance.

     I've been thinking of starting a school that would bring increased levels of sophistication to the dog world.  Even if my students can never attain the stature of the sophisticated ladies pictured below, I feel that the experience and training would make them better dogs and better pets.  My program begins with the maintenance of a kind and generous outlook.  Most good pets are already halfway there!  I expect my dogs to arrive on time, to be disciplined, and to put the needs of their families first.  They will maintain a well groomed appearance.  A good work ethic in support of a balanced life is what each student will strive for.  My graduates will treat all classes and breeds of dogs with due respect, and develop into gracious givers of dog love.

     Even with all of my efforts, I don't expect to change every dog into a sophisticate.  Every dog has its own talents.  The ability to learn about the world, become cosmopolitan, and look impeccable and sartorially splendid without the appearance of effort, doesn't come naturally to all dogs.  Sometimes you just have to shake your head and admire the grace and beauty that nature and society can produce, when conditions are just right.  I know I feel that way every night when I look in the mirror, whilst brushing my teeth.  (Sorry, I almost forgot.  We sophisticates are supposed to be humble):)
    
Buffy
Sophisticated Lady
Standard Poodle Variety

 

     We dogs appreciate how, for the most part, you human types treat us as family members and as a species worthy of love and respect.  When the dogs get together, we often share sad stories of situations where humans treat other humans much more poorly than they treat dogs!  We would therefore submit that the Golden Rule be amended to state;" treat others the way you would treat your best dog." 

Respectfully submitted,
Buffy
President
Canine Council on Interspecies Cooperation

 

     Bacon?  Who mentioned bacon? Oh, you're talking about Kevin Bacon. Even us dogs can relate to him. 
 At 6 degrees outside, I'd be a cold dog.  At 6 degrees body temperature, I'd be stiff as a bone.  I once watched
a Kevin Bacon movie, so that qualifies me for the 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon game.  Mystic River was Kevin's
 high point.  Then there was that terrible Hollow Man movie.  He should have remained invisible in that one.
  I guess the point of 6 degrees is that we're all connected very closely in the web of life through our family,
 friends and acquaintances.  A dog is involved in this intricate interrelationship just as you humans are. 
Realizing that our actions can have tremendously wide and unpredictable consequences is supposed to
 make us conscious and humble in our dealings with the world.  Dogs enact this philosophy on a daily basis,
 merely by being our wonderful, irresistible selves.  We wish to send smiles radiating out through our network
until all the world is grinning and laughing while they search for new ways to reward us with love, affection
and tasty morsels.  People will be much more likely to stay out of trouble if they spend more time engaged
in this behavior; although the constant grinning may remind us dogs of a bad human beauty pageant, or a
bunch of smarmy politicians. (We dogs might have to tone down being so cute and friendly, that smile on
your face today is a little scary.)

Shout Out To My Web!
Buffy

     From the perspective of the average dog, the universe seems to have been created solely for the purpose of that particular dog's existence.  The natural laws and constants that govern the cosmos are just so that at this specific instant in space and time, an intelligent dog like myself is able to observe it.  I'm sure that every other species that has consciousness, if aware enough for self reflection and scientific investigation; believes the same about its own kind.  For example, dogs wouldn't be here unless the cosmos was perfectly suited to create humans; for they are the ones who bred dogs from their ancestor, the wolf.  It appears that the main purpose for having humans on earth is to breed dogs, for this led to the creation of me! 

     When we dogs look at life, we do so with a great appreciation for the wonders of variety and diversity that the evolutionary process has produced. (We make an exception when it comes to ticks, but that's for another blog entry.)   From the evolution of the first cell, to the complexity of the mind of a Darwin or a Gould, there seems to have been a constant movement towards increased order and purpose towards the production of complex, intelligent beings over the eons of time.  That's one way of looking at the evolution of self-reflective beings, but there are other perspectives that dogs ruminate on as they look out the window at the universe they've inherited. There are only 6 or 7 billion humans on earth.  They appear to be in charge of the planet, but bacteria as a class far outnumber them, and are capable of wiping out the human species unless a constant battle is fought against them.  The modal state of being of life on earth is bacterial.  When one looks at the diversity of life; fungal, bacterial, plant, animal, it's clear that any one species or indeed a number of species that now appear dominant, could disappear from the earth and life would continue on its way.  New niches would be found, and adaptation would produce new dominant beings.  They would proceed on their way with their own purposes, and they would never miss the dead writers of great books, or their canine best friends. Has anyone seen a dinosaur lately?

     The evolutionary process has produced a full house of living forms, an exquisite variety of creatures; excellent adaptations to their unique environments. To some it appears there was purpose in the distribution of intelligence and complexity, in the various forms of life.  Humans (and some dogs) think the reason for the extant universe was for the production of beings like themselves, who were created by an intelligent designer who is interested in only them.  To others it appears that humans, and precocious dogs, are merely one example of excellence, on an earth full of "endless forms, most beautiful and most wonderful". To these beings, the diversity of life forms that aided in our creation are worth honoring and preserving, even if it results in charges of tree hugging or "environmentalist"  It's worth noting that without the variety of the full house of nature's creations, competing and adapting through trial and error over millions of years; dogs like me wouldn't exist.  And neither would intelligent people like you. 
    

 

     A new dog  moved into the neighborhood just recently, and he has made himself noticed in many ways.  He's a Great Dane and his name is Scooby.  His owner named him after the Great Dane, Scooby Doo.  This dog of course has a different last name.  His owner's last name is Swenson, so this dog's full name is Scooby Swenson. Scooby's owner is an English professor who attended the University of Wisconsin. He teaches Shakespeare at the University and has been a lifelong fan of the Wisconsin Badgers.  Apparently Great Danes assimilate many different personas; possibly they're afflicted with multiple personalities. Whatever it is, this Great Dane is a delusional dog.

     One day last week, I came upon Scooby Swenson, the Great Dane,  down by Wind Meadows Pond.  He was just sitting there, head in his paws, moaning about a state of rot of some sort.  He seemed to be weighing a decision of some kind, as his head plopped down on one side and then the other, with constant sighing.  I was loath to arouse him from his apparent state of melancholia, since he weighs about 5 times more than I do, but I finally got the gumption.  He explained that he had found a whole steak back by his house's garbage, but that it could be rotten. He wasn't sure whether to eat it.  I advised him on the possible consequences of bacterial contamination, but he countered with the power of the acidic dog stomach to deal with said germs.  He vacillated about eating that steak  for a good 2 hours, and his moans and sighs drew many stares from passersby.  Finally he decided to act, and he did what he wanted to do. He ate the whole thing!  When I asked him later how it was, he said it was a consummation devoutly to be wished? He finally quieted down and there was peace in our little hamlet that night.

     Over the weekend, many of us dogs were playing a bit of dogball, which is a variation on human football.  We have to tackle whoever has the nerf ball, and in this case we had to prevent the ball carrier from making it to the rose garden, which was about 50 yards away. You can imagine our reaction when Scooby said he wanted to play.  He was going on and on about him being a Badger, and a Great Dane.  Everytime he ran through us, leaving us bruised and battered on the grass, he'd strike a Heisman pose and say, "Go Badgers!"  He'd shout out his own name in dogspeak...G..R..E..A..T   D..A..Y..N..E !  He can't spell either.

     Yesterday Scooby came around saying he was a direct descendant of Scooby Doo, and proposed that we form our own version of "Mystery Inc." and see if we could erase crime in the subdivision.  He suggested getting some of the kids from the neighborhood to join in.  He said that I could serve as official recorder of their exploits, and that I would share in any rewards the group might earn.  As Scooby talked, his voice took on a whole new tone, and he began to sound like Astro from the Jetsons
or spookily, just like Scooby Doo.  We were in the midst of making plans for a new mystery solving society when a group of kids came along and shouted for Scooby to come with them.  He appeared to recognize them, as he said sorry, jumped up and ran to greet them.  I wondered who they were, since I hadn't seen them in the neighborhood before.  I followed them, walking quietly behind, and tried to catch their names.  One boy was called Fred, and there was a Velma, A Daphne, and someone called Shaggy.  My master called me as I was passing by my own home and I had to go in, so I never saw where the group went.

     This morning I went to visit Scooby at his home.  The place was empty, and a For Sale sign was out in front.  I wondered what happened.
Later in the day I heard that the burglar that was terrorizing the neighborhood for the last couple months had been caught last night.  Apparently a large dog had cornered him in his victim's yard, and kept him from fleeing until the police came.  The dog ran off before anyone could identify him. It was dark, but the police said the dog was as big as a horse.  I went home and  popped in a Scooby Doo DVD and thought about Scooby Swenson.  He had said that he was a direct descendant of Scooby Doo, could that be true?  Scooby Swenson did have overly bowed legs, and a double chin, and a sloped back.  He did sound just like Scooby Doo.  I realize that I'm sounding delusional, there's no way that Scooby Swenson is actually Scooby Doo incognito.  Or could it be that they are one and the same?  Doo-be? Or not Doo-be? That is the question!
Buffy
Bard of Wind Meadows

 

     Dogs speak about Nature with a reverence and awe that might seem to some as a worship of it, as a God of sorts.  Dogs don't have the mental agility or intellectual flexibility to devise a God that can be captured  in a book, or who could limit his interests to one people or culture, or one breed of dogs for that matter.  We haven't found all of the answers, so we still wonder a lot. Nature provokes in us  questions that demand answers, a search for truths that need to be found.   Reverence and wonder are a celebration of those mysteries in a way.  Wonder always looks for the next question, when any answer is provided.  All knowledge is theoretical, and must withstand the test of repeated experiment in order to approach the status of a fact.  Reverence for Nature acknowledges its power and ultimate unpredictability.  Even as elaborate theories are proposed, uncertainty and randomness ground the observer in humility in his assumption that he might have discovered a potential fact.  

     There's no room for arguments from authority in the dog world, but the canine mind is open to revelation; seeing it as part of the natural interplay between subject and object.  Dogs approach Nature, that spiritual and material place that we inhabit, and which we are an integral part; as the ultimate source of mystery.  On our best days we take it all in with a humble gratitude; and seek to make any possible observer proud of the creature that it has produced, and of the role that we play in it, as part of its mystery.

Buffy- Reverential Wonderer

 

     I want to apologize if any of you humans take offense at some of my criticisms and comments.  I kid you humans!  After all, we dogs are your best friends.  Any observations are offered with the knowledge that we have a special relationship.  We can say things to each other that we wouldn't say to a lion or a tiger.  If we did that, we wouldn't be here.  We want to challenge you to attain the heights of scientific technology, while at the same time transcending but including the best aspects of lower nature and the animal kingdom.  We don't want you going all silicon on us, that's elementary.  Fellow sentient beings like us dogs need you to continue to evolve in a way that is beneficial to the biosphere, and considerate of the four legged creatures that have your best interests at heart; and of all of the other living organisms that share the planet with us.

     In the 1980's we were worried that you would plunge us into some sort of nuclear winter with your massive stockpiles of ICBMs.  You don't have the fur coats that we have to deal with the lack of sunlight after a massive nuclear exchange occurs, so you'll be the first to suffer if such a war ever occurs.  Then there's your industry and automobiles which generate numerous pollutants. If you heat up the planet with all of your human generated waste you will suffer the loss of your best friends, us dogs.  We don't respond well to extreme heat and chemical lung irritants.  We don't do too well using inhalers, as we don't have thumbs to activate them.  Lately my water has been tasting a little oily, as if it's been spiked with crude.  Wars are fought afar for oil rich lands, and now we have more oil than we want, except it's in the wrong place; on the pristine beaches of Louisiana and Florida. 

     Dog's progenitors, the wolves, lived in harmony with nature for thousands of years.  During this time they did not cause one oil spill or detonate a single thermonuclear weapon. They didn't invent power plants or internal combustion engines,and  their chemical production was limited to natural biodegradable waste products.  You humans are very intelligent, but too often you are short sighted (or intentionally myopic when it's profitable) in foreseeing the harmful byproducts of your creations. We dogs enjoy the benefits of many of your inventions so we want you to continue achieving economic prosperity, but who is to deal with the excesses and damage when people or corporations act in a careless, short sighted manner?  Many of you say that government is evil so I guess you can't be surprised when it fails to control, or ends up being purchased by the irresponsible.  Where are the wise humans that can speak to the need for balance between commerce and environment?  My friend the junkyard dog says that we dogs need to organize, and that we require a special commission on dog-human relations appointed to lobby for us in Washington.  Your politicians often act and sound like a bunch of angry animals anyway, so we thought we would fit right in.  Or we could forget about the government thing and you all could use a little common sense and stop pooping in your own puppy house.  Even a dog doesn't do that unless it's sick!  Is humanity ill?  We dogs, your best friends, are here to help. Let us know what we can do. Meanwhile, would you taste my water before I try it, it looks a little suspect. 

Buffy
 Canine Friend of Humanity

 

     Buffy Come Home!  What?  I never left!  You must have me confused with Lassie.  Lassie was a popular dog, so I don't mind the comparison.  Still, it seems that she ( or he) spent a lot of time getting in "situations".  Always the drama.  It seems like life was different for Lassie than it  is for me.  Perhaps it was the farm life.  Dogs had a lot more freedom back in the day, before subdivisions with rules and committees were invented. 

     I live here in suburbia, and my adventures are limited to runs through the tall grass and walks around the Point; on a leash of course.  As I sniff the ground, I imagine the escapades of other dogs that have preceded me to the area, and I often leave them a little urine-based calling card so that the next dog might know of my exploits too.  It is in this way that we dogs make a mark on the world if we don't happen to have our own TV show.  Maybe you have to get yourself into dramas and situations in order to get yourself on the tube.  Has anyone thought of having 8 dogs stranded on a remote island, and then recording the resultant action?  Or a fine female such as I could be courted by 8 studly male poodles.  Does Donald Trump need an apprentice dog? 

      Maybe I need to set out on my own adventures, but I can't quite get the courage to abandon the comforts of home.  I guess those TV dogs are made of different stuff than I am.  They probably aren't that happy anyway, with their constant need for attention and celebrity. Dogs like you and I are confident standing alone, we don't need the constant ego stroking that these TV dogs seem to require........... Oh well. I think I'll go find my master, he hasn't rubbed my belly for some time, and I could use a walk and a few words of praise.  Maybe he'll take some new pictures of me!