The Countdown Begins

It's official: we've entered The Final Week.

I'm feeling pretty good right now. Sure, I'm sad, but I have to keep things in perspective. It's actually kind of a win-win for me and Lomax -- either he'll graduate and go on to be an amazing guide dog for someone who needs him very much, or he'll "career change" and be adopted by a family I know that loves him very much. I have to stay focused on this while we go through all of our "lasts."

Today was Lomax's last day at my church, and it was our day to do the greeting and hand out the bulletins as people arrived. I had Lomax dress up for the occasion, of course. Here's my handsome little man with his favorite church friend, Kim:



We all had lunch after the service, in honor of my pastor's birthday. Lomax was wiped out from a busy Saturday visiting friends, so he slept soundly while the rest of us chowed. Here he is, looking a bit like Jerry Lewis after the Labor Day Telethon:



After all his buddies at church scratched Lomax's ears and offered words of encouragement for his future, we went with a couple of friends for a walk along the Venice canals.



"Ready? On the count of three: One...*CLICK*!"

We weren't ready!



Okay, that's better:



It's dinner time now, and after another short walk, the Moof-Dog and I are going to end our day with a quiet evening of snuggling in front of the TV.

Smile

Just a couple of shots from our walks around the neighborhood....

Little Bro Chandler

Today, Lomax and I finally got to meet Chandler! And though he's not a littermate by birth, Lomax has decided that since Joanna was his first puppy raiser -- and since Chandler is such a fun playmate -- he should officially be a member of our pack.

Lomax welcomed our guests with his typical enthusiasm, and Joanna and I spent a good hour or so letting the lads get acquainted before taking a leisurely lunch at Chipotle. Some of us were more leisurely than others:



But I suppose if I were allowed to stretch out on the cool stone floor under the table, I'd be napping too.

We of course made a stop for ice cream, where we encountered a...colorful...woman who, by the end of our reluctant conversation, had three strikes against her:

1.) she pulled up a chair and invited herself to join us, also inviting herself to pet the dogs without asking

2.) she thought I was Joanna's mother, which -- though flattering in that Joanna is smart and pretty and talented -- was either a horrifying commentary on how I looked today or simply a presumptuous take on the kind of person I was at age fifteen, and

3.) she gleefully stated that she has a fake service dog jacket for her own pet dog so she can take it out in public.

I know. It makes me mad, too. Such people and their ill-behaved, I-can-eat-french-fries-off-the-table-because-I'm-wearing-a-pretty-vest FOOFYmonsters are the reason legitimate service dogs in training get hassled all the time. The only reason I didn't ream her is that we are, especially with our dogs in jacket, representatives of GDA. Grrrrr.

Anyway, after that we headed back for more playtime in the air-conditioned apartment, where Chandler was bold and Lomax was tolerant. Tiny teeth met with face, and leg, and tail, but the boys played together well for the most part, until energy levels got out of hand and they both had to calm down.

Here, for your enjoyment, are the mighty snake killers at work:



It was a fun afternoon, and Lomax is fairly wiped out this evening from all the restraint he had to show! Thank you, Joanna, for bringing Chandler out today and hanging with me and the little man...I'm almost certain I noticed Lomax imparting some snorts of doggy wisdom in his ear when they were tussling.

Places to Go, People to See

I have a checklist of all the things Lomax and I need to do before he goes in for training. One thing we were able to check off is "lunch with John."

John has been a friend of mine for several years. I met him at church and have since come to know, through spending time with him at the nearby restaurant where he eats lunch twice a week (John's lunch plans should be added to the "death and taxes" list as the measure of a sure thing), what a blessing he is.

He can always cheer me up and put things in perspective when I'm having a hard day. The thing is, he doesn't know he's doing it. He'll start by making a joke -- usually a bad pun or a literal take on some phrase I just said, the kind of joke a small child might tell. I can usually see those coming, from the look that crosses his face just before. Or he might say, proudly, that his next-door neighbors have asked him to take care of their cats while they're on vacation. Then, if it's hot outside, he might relive far-off memories about going swimming once a week with the other kids from the "special school" he attended when he was growing up. Then he'll tell me about the detective story he's writing -- he's particularly inspired by re-runs of Matlock. An afternoon with John can make time stop, at least for me. Sometimes I'll sit there with him for three hours, and still be reluctant to leave.

When I told John I was going to be a puppy raiser for GDA (mind you, it was nearly three years between my decision and the actual "getting a puppy" part), his whole face...it was indescribable. I don't think anyone else in my life was quite as excited. And every time I saw him during that nearly three years, he'd ask me when I was getting the puppy. And what kind of puppy I wanted. And what the puppy would look like. And what I was going to name the puppy. And what I'd feed the puppy. And what I'd teach the puppy. And if I'd bring the puppy to visit him, so he could hug the puppy.

Of course, we knew just where to find him on this "last visit with John before turn-in." He was even at his usual table.

No one is more confident than John that Lomax will go on to live a life of service. I explained that Lomax has to "go to college" first...John laughed, and looked at Lomax, and told him to study hard and not drink too much.

We may have to figure out a way to have one more "last visit" with John.

Lomax Meets Turbo

Ann, our friend and fellow puppy raiser, invited us over on Saturday for a meet-and-greet with Turbo, her new desert tortoise.

"Looks crunchy-on-the-outside, chewy-on-the-inside. Can I eat it?"



Turbo, who appears to be fearless in the face of dogs, remained unphased by seven leaping Labradors (one of whom licked him square in the face). He chased Lomax around a little bit before retreating to a nice shady corner of Ann's yard.

"Is it coming to kill me?"

The Letter

Today we got "The Letter."

You know the one.

"Well, the time is here. The day you've been anticipating since you picked up your puppy all those months ago. It is time for Lomax to come in for training."

Though I immediately knew what it was, I didn't get upset at the sight of it, like I'd figured I would. After all, since the last turn-in in May, I've known this was coming -- he's 21 months old, and I think he's finally ready.

It won't make turn-in any less traumatic, but at least GDA does something nice for their puppy raisers:

"We know this is a hard time for you and we would like to try to make it a little easier by inviting you to a luncheon August 5, 2006 at 12:00 noon. You will get a chance to meet and talk to the trainers that will be working with Lomax."

(Oh, good. August 5 at noon, in Sylmar. I'll be crying AND sweating.)

"This is just a fun day for you and the other puppy raisers for moral support and to say good-bye to your puppy until Graduation Day. After we are done eating, talking and playing we will walk the dogs down to the kennel where you will be able to put them in their runs."

Well, I don't know about "fun" -- especially the part where I'll be walking away from the kennel with an empty leash and Tammy Faye-worthy mascara streaks -- but I do appreciate the fact that we are appreciated. The school has no obligation to throw us a goodbye party or let us meet the trainers or anything like that...I'm just grateful I don't have to answer the front door, put my dog in the back of a van and wave as he's driven away by someone I've never seen before.

It's comforting, actually, to know that I'll be in the company of some of my best friends from the puppy group. They've turned in dogs before, and this is my first time doing so...but I'm told that it's never any easier.

So I will show up on that day with my roommate, my friends, my friends' dogs, my Lomax, and a toy for him to share with his college roommates.

Or I will show up on that day with my Lomax and my passport, in a country that does not have an extradition treaty with the United States. I hear Iceland is lovely this time of year.

Our Last Puppy Group Meeting

It's our final month together. The "lasts" have begun. Tonight was my final puppy raiser group meeting with Mr. Lomax.

The evening began, as always, with obedience; this time it was a nice training walk through the neighborhood to practice our "heel" position and some common suburban distractions (strange lawn decorations, little boys on bikes, wandering cats, barking beasties, etc.).

Once we had returned and gathered inside the meeting room, our group leaders called up everyone present who will be turning in their dogs on August 5: pictured are Laura and Katie (with Nevada), Amy and Matt (with Liam), and me (with Lomax). We all said a few words about what raising this puppy has meant to us...Nancy didn't spring this on us until that very moment, so I was unprepared.

What I should have said is that Lomax is my little man, I'm going to miss him terribly, I'm very proud of him, and that despite my more than 2-and-a-half years as a "future" puppy raiser waiting for a dog, I could not have timed things more perfectly. Lomax and I were meant to be together, even if we got a late start.

I did at least manage to work in the fact that I'm gonna need to do some puppysitting very soon after turn-in! And I've already had offers....

Then, according to tradition, each dog received a congratulatory rawhide bone, and each puppy raising family received a bottle of wine. In case you can't read it in the photo, here's what the custom printed label says:

"Turn-In Tonic: Just a little something to help you get through the inevitable! Good Luck and Best Wishes from The South Bay Puppy Raisers!"



And the quote at the top, from a GDA employee and her guide dog, says:

"Whatever happens, you have given the gift!"

Crap. I'm crying already.

Lomax's Seafaring Weekend, Part II: Salty Dogs at the Movies

On Sunday, Lomax and I embarked on a high-seas (er, public transportation) adventure with five other scurvy sea dogs and the people whose lives they've shanghaied for the last year and a half.

Our tale begins at the Metro Blue Line station in Long Beach, where we gathered our crew for an hourlong trip on the train and subway into Hollywood. This is a rare photograph of our fierce captain, the Dread Pirate Nevada. That's First Mate Liam and Bonny Wee Mika in the background -- we promise, Captain Nevada, they're not laughing at you:



And here's Lomax the Cabin Boy, gleefully singing sea chanties from his deck-swabbing position on our vessel:



When we arrived at our destination, the humans needed nourishment for the remainder of the voyage, and the crew needed rest:



After a fine afternoon at our port of call -- the El Capitan Theater in Hollywood, where we saw Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest, of course -- we boarded our vessel and set our compass for home. Liam and Lomax joined Captain Nevada at his place for a little backyard pillaging and chew-toy plundering, then I took my sleepy little pirate home, where he drifted off in the arms of his favorite wench:

Lomax's Seafaring Weekend, Part I: Marina Del Moof

The Judsons, area leaders of the GDA Westside puppy raisers group, generously hosted a potluck "dock party" on Saturday at their sailboat in Marina del Rey. In addition to delicious (human) food of all kinds, we enjoyed the sunny weather, a dog-toy door prize drawing (Lomax is enjoying his squeaky mouse even as I type), and the company of new friends!

Here's a photo of my boy with Clark, the black Lab being trained by the Judsons:



This lovely lady, Roxy, already knew about Lomax because she belongs to the group where he started out his training:



Lomax had a great time socializing, hanging out, walking in the nearby park, exploring the bow of the sailboat, and looking handsome in his jacket as always.

In addition to GDA pups young and old...er, make that "of breeder status," we were also privileged to meet guide dog user Rebecca and Leslie, her guide dog (who is from a different school here in California, Guide Dogs for the Blind).

Many thanks once again to our gracious hosts Glyn and his wife Marilyn, who is shown here holding Chester (one of Chandler's littermates)!

Understatement of the Year

I took Lomax to our vet this evening for a look at what I thought was a hot spot on his tail. It's nothing serious, don't worry -- it just turned out to be a cut or scrape that got out of hand. I didn't see anything happen, he never yelped that I know of, and I didn't notice it because the hair on his tail is so thick.

Anyway, the point: as Lomax is at the vet, being poked and prodded and examined, he is wiggling furiously. With great joy. As always. He's got a nasty cut on his tail, but that doesn't stop said tail from whipping and wagging. With great joy. As always. And I am attempting to hold him still so the doc can get a look at the affected area.

As Mr. Exuberance is busy licking my face and folding himself in half in order to snort in Dr. Liebl's face, the doc says to me:

"Happy little guy, isn't he?"

Yes. Yes, he is.

Fourth of July

Okay, fine. I'll admit I pulled this photo off the Web...but only because at the fireworks show I took Lomax to, I thought I should keep both hands on him in lieu of one hand on him and one hand on the camera.

We spent Independence Day at a dear friend's annual party. The small-town ambience of El Segundo serves the holiday well; there's always a street fair in front of Recreation Park, the launch pad for the impressive fireworks display. People turn out in droves, hours early, to put down their blankets and chairs in the street and surrounding areas for optimal viewing. Fortunately, my friend and her husband live on the opposite side of the park, where there are no crowds. Who cares if the show is "backwards?" Thanks to some very sweet neighbors, we had our own private section -- prime real estate in a fenced yard, and a gently sloping hill on which to lie back and enjoy the spectacle above.

Not knowing how Lomax would react, I chose a spot nearest the exit and made sure I had a key to my friend's apartment. The first couple of booms surprised him a bit, but he didn't bolt -- it was more of a head-swivel in the style of "What the *&$# was that?"

But when I directed his attention to the sky and he caught the flashes of light that accompanied the booms, he seemed to make the connection. I just made sure I had one hand on the leash and the other on him, gently scratching his back. When he wasn't stretch-inching toward my friend's extended hand for some extra affection, he was calmly watching the skies along with the rest of us (and, surely, agreeing with my softly spoken assessments that he was a very good boy indeed). I wish I could have captured for you the picture of his sweet little head, nose pointed heavenward in silhouette against the blooming night sky.

As it turns out, the dog who leaves the room when someone turns on the stove (or the grill, or the toaster oven) has no problem whatsoever with actual explosives. Who knew?

What's So Funny?

Welcome, Chandler!

Joanna, Lomax's first puppy raiser, picked up her new charge today...and she's created a blog for him! Everyone go say hello and welcome to Chandler, the goldendoodle.

And while you're there, be sure to read Joanna's wonderful entry about the early days of our very own Mr. Lomax. Perhaps I'm biased, but I don't think you will ever see a cuter photo of a cuter puppy than the one at the beginning of that post. It's true -- our Mr. Lomax is almost unbearably attractive.

Father's Day, Brother's Day

I know, I've been remiss; it's been two weeks since my last post. But I've got some great pictures! Does that count for extra?

While I was in Fresno, Lomax had a great time here with Liam and his people. In addition to seeing a movie and having a nice Father's Day with "grandpa" (Matt's dad), the boys went to an Angels game.

Here's Lomax in the stadium, questioning the umpire's call:



And here's Liam, doing his impression of Lomax, who is not amused:



Wonder Dog powers, activate!



By Monday, Lomax had exhausted poor Liam, but the Unstoppable Yellow One was still ready to play. He was nice and wiggly for me when I got home, which was just what I needed. There's nothing like a Lomax, that's for sure.

Brother Weekend

Lomax is spending the weekend with his brother Liam! I'm going on a quick trip and won't be posting for a few days, so I'll just leave you with this picture of the two handsomest dogs in town:

Lomax As Hero

Okay, I'm at work here, but I have to stop for a minute just to recognize a Lomax achievement.

I've noticed in the last few weeks that -- usual playtime wiggliness aside -- Lomax has been easier to handle and control in general. He's walking much more consistently on a loose lead in excellent heel position, he's a little more focused (or easier to bring back to focus in the face of distraction), he just seems more grown up all of a sudden.

So when the fire alarm went off in my office building about 30 minutes ago, I thought nothing of it. I just picked up his leash (and my latte, because really -- who knows how long we'll be standing out there, and if it's a real emergency I want to be fully caffeinated and alert, right?) and walked calmly to the nearest emergency exit.

In the midst of a crowded stairwell, loud "whoop-whoop-whoop" alarm sounds and flashing emergency lights, I hardly even noticed that Lomax was perfectly calm and steady. It was only after we were all standing outside talking, when someone asked me if he had freaked out, that I realized what an excellent job he'd done.

So I rewarded him with a little greeting and ear-rubbing time from his many admirers before the fire marshall gave us the "all clear" to return to the building.

It was a false alarm, fortunately. If there's ever actual smoke and fire, I make no guarantees.

You Are My Sunshine

A Groovy Day at GDA

The annual GDA Open House fundraiser is always crazy good fun, but this was my first time in attendance with a dog of my own, so it was even more chaotic. This year's theme was "Back to the '60s" which, as you can see by the photos I've posted, afforded all sorts of goofy opportunities. The clever event planners outdid themselves this year, posting signs like "Drool is Cool," "Puppy Power," "Mellow Yellow," and my personal favorite, "Black Lab is Beautiful."

Lomax and I participated in the "puppy trials" distraction/obstacle course, and while we didn't place, I feel pretty good about how we did. Lomax is so distracted by other dogs that I was concerned he would...well...explode into uncontrollable wiggling, I guess. But I was able to rein him in fairly well and he took on the most difficult challenges (including getting on and off a bus filled with blacklights, loud psychedelic music, incense, rabbit furs and another dog) with relative confidence. It was the easy things -- you know, distractions he couldn't possibly care less about when I'm out working him in the real world, like water -- in which he suddenly took interest. Ah, well. The trainer who's been keeping in touch with us said yesterday that Lomax looked the most mature she'd ever seen him, so that's great news.

The South Bay puppy raiser group works the "Puppy Kissing Booth" every year. One dollar for the privilege of receiving a puppy kiss is a pretty good deal, but Lomax was especially generous with l'amour. Here's Bob, getting his money's worth.

And of course, these events are always a good time for family photos. Here's Lomax with his beloved brother Liam (on the left) and sister Kandy (on the right -- who by the way is going in for the last phase of her breeder evaluation, woo hoo!).



The day went so quickly, I didn't even have time to watch the guide dog demonstration or wander around and look at all the silent auction packages, which are always fantastic. So I did my part by purchasing a comfy GDA sweatshirt, enjoying the tri-tip sandwich lunch as well as the Girl Scout bake sale booth, and buying a raffle ticket for the "Spend a Day With a Guide Dog Trainer" program. Lomax, meanwhile, gave kisses until he was all kissed out.

Grateful to have spent the day with my little man and all of our puppy raiser friends, at least one of us slept very well when we got home.

Retrievers of Truth

This one's for you, Nat and Petey!

Fans of the TV show Lost will appreciate this site, sponsored by the Hanso Foundation, "Documenting the mental mastery of the Yellow Labrador Retriever."

I guess Lomax has greater powers than I ever imagined.

Notorious B.L.O.G.s

With all the swollen-dog-with-yeasty-ears excitement of the last several days, we almost forgot to welcome our new readers! Lomax's humble online abode has been added to GruffPuppy's list of Dog Blogs.

Thanks for the link, and welcome! Lomax sends you all a big, sloppy Labrador smooch.

Just Add Flour, Bake Some Bread -- Dog's Got Yeast Inside His Head

So, it looks like Lomax has a yeast infection in his ears but no hematomas, according to our new vet (whom we LOVE). I'm guessing he got it while he was kenneled at the school for a few days, since his ears were immaculate before that...and since that's the only place he could have caught it from water play or other dogs, any time recently. I have some Otomax to give him, and plenty of love, and he should be just fine. He has already returned to 100% Wiggly Mode, complete with Full-Scale Moof Power.

It continues to amaze me just how happy he is all the time. During both doctor visits we had due to this little spider bite, even when he was so swollen he could barely open his eyes, it was all I could do to keep him from wagging himself right off the exam table.

"I'm going to look in your ears now."

Yippee! (WiggleWiggleWiggleWiggle.)

"Now I'm going to take your temperature."

Hooray! (WiggleWiggleWiggleWiggle.)

"Now I'm going to give you a couple of shots."

WooHoo! Ouch. Yayyyy! (WiggleWiggleWiggleWiggle.)

I forgot to warn our new vet about Lomax's affinity for ear kissing, and consequently, as the doc was listening to Lomax's heart, he got the Labrador lightning-strike right upside the head. Good thing the stethoscope was in there, or he would have had to swab.

Signs of Summer

Heat. Shedding. Bugs. The harbingers of the season....

Lomax greeted me this morning with less than his usual fervor. Upon inspection, I found his ears to be hugely swollen, and his eyes starting in as well. Horrors! His cute little face!!

So I called GDA and up we went for a little vet visit. The poor little man was puffed up severely; he looked like he'd gone a few rounds with Evander Holyfield. It had come on so suddenly, I didn't know what to think. The vet took his temp, looked in his ears, and ruled out an ear infection. Finally, she came to the conclusion that he must have been bitten by a spider. There's a tiny bump on his nose...which likely means he stuck it someplace it didn't belong, and is now paying the price.

After a couple of shots and a Benadryl capsule, the facial swelling has gone down, but the ears are still pretty big. The vet said it *looks* like he could have hematomas, but other signs don't point to that (both ears at once, and he hadn't been "flapping" before the swelling occurred). So here I am in my apartment on this beautiful summer day, keeping my eyes on his ears, rather than running the errands I'd planned. The sad thing is, Lomax doesn't want to be cooped up inside either!

If he's still swollen tomorrow morning, I'm supposed to take him to a vet near me. The good thing is, if he does have hematomas, it's not considered an emergency...the bad thing is, it does mean surgery, and nobody wants that. So we're keeping our fingers and paws crossed, and praying the swelling will subside.

We'll keep you posted!

EARWATCH UPDATE: As of Sunday morning, the ears are looking much better. The swelling is almost gone, and the exuberant wiggling has returned to about 98%. I'll most likely take him to a vet tomorrow for a re-check, but he's looking good.

"Evil Jenny" Emerges

Lomax and I were crossing a very busy Wilshire Boulevard intersection during lunchtime today (we had the "walk" signal) when a guy in a gigantic SUV made a right turn directly in front of us. He was going way too fast, for one thing. He had been looking, and knew exactly what he was doing. Looked right at us and stuck his hand out the window in a kind of wave, a signal of thanks that we were letting him go as well as a signal that he was going whether or not we were letting him.

Judging his distance to be just far enough away, I didn't react physically -- kept face-forward but pretended not to see him, and kept my pace, which was moderate and measured. A split-second of terror flashed across his countenance, which I confess delighted me.

Sometimes people think I'm blind when I'm wearing my black sunglasses, and walking Lomax in his GDA service jacket.

MuhuhahahAAAAAAHAAHAHAAAhaahahahaaa.

Jerk.

Happy Memorial Day

To those who serve, who have served, and who will serve, we offer our gratitude and remembrance.

May I Help You?

Another shot of Lomax's corner office:

I suggested he decorate the walls with flowcharts and statistics and pictures of me, but he insists on maintaining his minimalism.

Efficiency and Ergonomics...

...or mere laziness?

Lomax has discovered that while he's "at work" underneath my desk at the office, he can lie down on his bed in such a manner that all he has to do is stretch his neck a bit in order to reach the water bowl. Doesn't even have to get up.

He'd Make a Lousy Dalmatian

Unless he's exhausted from a weekend at the kennel, or physically in another geographic location, Lomax is at my heels every waking moment. Whether he's walking, running, pacing, circling, playing, sitting, lying down, wiggling, wagging, rolling, leaning, snorting, whatever -- I look down, he's right there. Rarely, if ever, more than a couple of feet away.

Until I turn on the stove and get out the pots and pans, that is. See, he's got this thing about smoke. And it doesn't matter what I'm cooking (you'd think bacon might convince him, right?), he deems the immediate area too dangerous and finds his new "happy place" in the hallway.



Notice he still wants to know where I am, and what I'm doing. He's ever-vigilant in that way. And I'm convinced that if an actual fire were to start right there in the kitchen, effectively preventing me from making an unassisted escape, Lomax would be the first one to call 9-1-1 from a neighbor's house.

Zzzzzzz

Everybody Sing James Brown

Puppy's got a brand new bone. HAH!







I bought him a new Nylabone because the old one -- which has lasted a year and a half, even having been subjected to the enthusiastic jaws of many a Labrador puppy -- has become too disgusting to take to the office with me. For a while, it simply looked phallic and wrong (no photos, to spare you)...but now, Lomax has chewed the smaller end down to a sharpened nub. Our theory is that he's making a shiv, and he's gonna bust outta this joint and run off to Mexico with the cute little Jack Russell/chihuahua mix who lives in cell block two.

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