Identity

MySpace, Facebook (I had techie friends dying of laughter one night when I mixed the two up and combined them into MyFace), YouTube, Twitter, and many others, are all ways of putting on a public identity, letting your friends and the world know who you are, that you exist.  In some sense, like this blog, it's the ultimate narcissism, thinking someone wants to know you're every move, thought, see your every picture.

We still have a lot to learn from the simplicity inherent in dogs.  Sage and Murphy definitely know who they are, what they are about.  While both, particularly Sage now, crave attention and will engage in antics to gain a pet, a hug, a laugh, they don't seem to need 24/7 affirmation.  They're identity is secure.

But then again, Murphy does have her own blog!

Murphy's day.

In Turbulent Times

Phew.  These past few weeks have been nuts!  From Seattle's pathetic sports teams (now you know my priorities) to the economy, it's been crazy.  

The girls always sense when there is something going on.  They have noses for stress.  Inevitably they edge in closer, cling tighter, nuzzle a lot more.  I wonder if the Lords of Wall Street, the so-called leaders in Congress, the Fed Chairman or Secretary of Treasury are lucky enough to be loved by Yellow labs, or any other dog for that matter.  They probably could use that unconditional love, that sense that something is wrong and it is time for all paws on deck.  

I think it is interesting when the weight of the job or public opinion finally catches up to Presidents of the US, they seem to turn to dogs.  Clinton got Buddy, Nixon romped with this Irish Setter, Ford with his Golden Retriever, and you can bet Bush is grateful for Barney's loyalty these days.  

In turbulent times, we all need that kind of love.

Murphy's day.

In the Autumn

In the Autumn it is time for fires, leaf gawking, and snuggling.  Murphy and I, realizing there was a slight, cool breeze decided to cuddle, hold each other for awhile.  She has always been a lap dog, climbing on the couch while I watched TV or better yet, trying to sneak onto a dining room chair.  On Thanksgiving while I was in graduate school and had several students for dinner, Murphy did just that, blithely getting up onto a bench, sitting next to a friend.  I swear she almost tied a napkin around her neck!  Rebecca just began petting her as if there was nothing wrong.  Thank goodness I am surrounded by dog lovers.

Murph has also perfected the slide into the front seat of the car, especially if I am the passenger.  She has several moves: the running back move, where she barrels ahead.  The leap first apologize later move.  And the "ain't no mountain high enough" move, where she maneuvers around every obstacle (primarily my arm).  

We enjoyed our moments in the chair, it felt good just holding her, whispering into her ear.  Of course, someone got a little jealous...

Murphy's day.

Knocking Around

No pictures this morning.  

There are phrases that I know for sure come from my family.  When I talk with my mother in the evening and ask her what she did all day, she says: oh, just knocked around.  

I can lay in bed, upstairs, and hear Murphy at night, knocking around.  For awhile she was redecorating, moving the rocking chair, rearranging the the dog food cans.  Now it seems the decorative pine cones need to be moved.   And when I get up, help her outside, leaving the backdoor open, she seems to want to knock on the door for awhile, almost as if she is expressing frustration (I am convinced she is banging her head against Congress, the City Council, you get my drift!).

While walking the girls last week we ran into a friend, who was owned by a black lab named Murphy.  We met 13 years ago as we crossed paths, our two dogs,  out running in the mornings.  Murphy is gone.  I asked how she knew and she said everything changed, suddenly, that I would know.

All signs still seem ok.  Murphy is still knocking around.

Murphy's day. 

Friday Morning Lights

One of my favorite movies and only network show I have watched in the past few years is Friday Night Lights, which captures life in a small Texas town, the fixation on high school football, and the amazing grace of the players, parents, coach, teachers.   Sage thinks our home school needs a football team.

The Yellow Labs.  Can't call them the Fighting Labs because labs, well, there is no fight in them.  The Silly Labs?  Hmmm.

Murphy could be like a Brett Favre, coming back from retirement to lead her team to victories.  Sage, the young, cocky, running back.  It would make delightful theatre.

Sage, go long!

It's truly fun to think about these things after glancing at headlines.  

Friday morning light.

Murphy's day and Sage going long.

Bail-outs and Rescues

We have been contemplating language recently.  Apparently the policy makers in DC have been told to talk about the bail out as a rescue.  Seems more helpful, that people will want to rescue something rather than bailing out.  It's all in packaging the idea.

It seems to me that there is nothing wrong with rescues or bail outs.  Except, after the Red Cross has distributed blankets and the damage is being cleaned up, it's also time to talk about whether building in flood plains is a good idea.  But for some reason, we keep building there and we keep bailing out or rescuing.  

While there is a time to act during an emergency, it is also time, I think, to talk, along with the rescue plans, what we can do to make sure we are not in a similar place.  Those discussions need to happen simultaneously or we will be here again.

Murphy's day.

Listening for Murphy

Hunters sometimes use bells on dog collars to locate their pups.  I've thought about that with Murphy, especially when we are outside.  But for some reason I can hear her just fine.  Wee hours of the morning, before I can hear the newspaper thunk on the porch (actually, my newspapers never have landed on my porch but that is a whole other story), I can now hear Murph, downstairs, wandering around.  

I almost always get up before the alarm, worried she needs something.  We'll go out in back, I'll look at the stars and she'll check out the grass.  Our new routine.

There is a nip in the air, Autumn is here.  Murphy and me, listening for each other.

Murphy's day.