Photo Op

Today was graduation day up at the school, so Lomax and I went to celebrate the matriculation of Bella, another dog from our puppy raiser group. Afterward, we got to spend some time with Lomax's first puppyraiser, Joanna, and her friend, Christina, who had attended the ceremony as well.

And if there's one thing Lomax enjoys, it's the company of beautiful women. Look how happy he is here:

Formal Training Update

Dreary and overcast day... bleah. So I've posted a photo that I took on a sunny day, to make me feel better. Doesn't Lomax appear to be looking back at whatever it is that's left its looming shadow? "Can I eat it before it eats me?"

I realized this evening that I haven't updated you with regard to Lomax's turn-in date, when he'll go to live at the school for formal training (we call it "IFT"). He's nineteen months old now, so he's theoretically of age and due to go in during the May turn-in, but he's been given a reprieve -- hooray! I get to keep my boy another three months or so. The next turn-in is in late July.

His brother Liam isn't going in May, either, which I'm guessing means the entire "L" litter is going in July. There must be too many dogs this time around, and I know the school is looking to hire another person in the training department. It's apparently a very busy time.

That's excellent news as far as I'm concerned! It gives me more time to work with Lomax on his distracted ways; it gives him more time to mature. It also gives us more time to cuddle. Three months seems like a long time now, but I know it will pass in a flash. I'm sure gonna miss this silly little dog.

A Regular Dog

I fed Lomax his dinner around 6:30 this evening, then sat for just a moment to check my e-mail while he was chowing down. We do this all the time; he's within earshot, and the moment I hear him licking the bowl, I either call him to me or get up to give him water and take him outside. I knew he was hungry tonight, because he ate unusually quickly. But then there was silence. And that's never good.

"Lomax?"

Nothing. I swiveled around and rose slowly from my chair, brow furrowed, suspicious as the cinematic ingenue about to be eviscerated by the maniac who's supposedly been dead for fifteen years.

"Lomax, are you done? Come here, boy!"

I went to check. Empty bowl, no dog. He must have gone completely stealth to get past me. Then I remembered that I had just spent part of the afternoon trying this new cookie recipe, and the little beauties were cooling on a rack on my kitchen table.

I saw the crime scene from across the living room:



Note the empty lower left corner.

Then I saw the suspect, looking small and guilty:



His mouth was closed, but just in case, I yelled "DROP IT!"

With a subtle "pleh," out dropped two tiny blobs. When I moved toward him to pick up the cookie blobs and make sure he wasn't hiding anything else in his mouth, he tucked his butt underneath him and zipped about six feet down the hallway. But all it took was one stern "Lomax, COME," and he was back at my side, head slightly lowered but tongue-out and body wiggling and wagging as if he hadn't seen me in six months.

What could I do but laugh?

The cookies are actually very good, and kind of healthy (for humans, at least). The recipe came off a box of this cereal, which boasts ten grams of dietary fiber per serving. Lucky me! Also included in the power-packed, colon-blowing treats? Some oatmeal, and some dried fruit.

I'll, uh...let you know how it all comes out. But he'll be sleeping in his crate tonight, with the door closed, to be sure.

Yes, I Said It Out Loud

"No, Lomax, that's NOT a man with a dog. That's a man with a rolling suitcase."

Gimme Five

Looking for Mr. Lomax

On my other blog, I like to post the occasional list of odd Web searches people have done that have led them to my humble online abode. The stats for this site aren't usually as bizarre, though they always -- and by always, I mean every single day -- show at least one or two searches for some form of "dingo ate your baby," which I find hilarious in itself. I didn't realize that phrase had become such a pop culture reference...but I guess that's what happens when Seinfeld is in syndication such that it airs fifty-seven times a day.

Today, however, brought a collection of real winners:

* tame the tongue
* baloo costume
* river beastie
* minute long pee
* tights are no big deal
* longest pee ever
* be he man or be he beastie

I especially enjoyed that last one.

Sticky Bones

Though we're long overdue for blogging about it, Lomax and I took a trip last month to the Page Museum at La Brea Tar Pits for my friend James' birthday.

About three million fossils of extinct Pleistocene ice age plants and mammals have been excavated from the tar pits since the early 20th century. Natural asphalt still bubbles up to the surface, so you have to watch where you step around the park grounds, especially on a warm day, or your shoes end up a mess. I have no idea what one might use to clean tar off little paws, so we were extra vigilant.

The place wasn't too crowded, and Lomax did fairly well...at least until he spotted people walking other dogs in the park. Dog distraction is still our biggest challenge, though nowadays unless the dog comes right up to him, it's easier to get his attention back. Regardless, he was calm and collected during the educational film, and he didn't seem at all bothered by the ancient bones of hulking mammoths and the like (you just never know what's going to freak a dog out).

The above photo shows my little man posing in front of an "antique bison." What you don't know is that it was a whole bison...until Lomax terminated it. Click on the photo if you don't believe me! I've told him he should be careful about showing his crazy sci-fi eyeballs in public, but whaddayagonna do.

Maybe This Is What He Dreams About

WHY DOGS STOPPED FLYING

Before humans,
dogs flew everywhere.
Their wings of silky fur
wrapped hollow bones.
Their tails wagged
like rudders through wind,
their stomachs bare
to the sullen earth.

Out of sorrow
for the first humans--
stumbling, crawling,
helpless and cold--
dogs folded their
great wings into paws
soft enough to walk
beside us forever.

They still weep for us,
pity our small noses,
our unfortunate eyes,
our dull teeth.
They lick our faces clean,
keep us warm at night.
Sometimes they remember flying
and bite our ugly hands.

-- Kenneth W. Brewer