Sunday, March 11, 2012

The bones of a good story...

Ah, the bounty of a snowless winter! Chicken bones. Spareribs. Hot dogs. And once, the grand prize—juicy remnants of beef tenderloin, snagged from behind a top restaurant. Quite a different scenario from last year, when I dutifully dug in a frozen snowbank for a bagel. This being New England, it wasn't even that good.

So when Mom presented me with a bona fide bone that I didn't have to scrounge for myself, I was mystified. It was kind of like being at a fancy dinner and having more tableware than usual. Just what does one do with that fourth fork?

Turns out that Mom's generosity had something to do with teeth cleaning. Not happy with the toothbrush results, she tried the old-fashioned thing, and my canines are gleaming. Kind of like whitening strips, but for dogs. Except much, much tastier.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Shall we dance?

Lucy and I hanging at the Wellesley College Club
Canines and Cocktails event last summer.
Maybe this year the club will include dancing.
My pal Lucy is recovering from back surgery, and rather nicely, too. I spotted her doing her dance routine this week, and were there a canine Dancing with the Stars, she'd be all set—wait, of course there is!

Canine freestyle, it's called, and were it truly freestyle, I'd be superb. I'm smart, agile and have the legs for it. If you remember my Dancing with Hexbugs video (I think I called it Hex Bug Horror, but why not create a positive spin?), I've got an awesome tap number. Following instructions, however, is not really my thing, and with humans and their rules and all, I'd make a lousy partner for Lucy.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Mom's Jersey Shore

The beach where Mom grew up.
I've been resting my writing chops while Mom took herself, and her computer, off to the Jersey shore to visit Great-Grandma. Locals, of course, never call it "The Shore." To them, it's simply the beach, and all one has to do is head east a bit to get there. All roads lead to the beach, and it's take your pick for miles and miles. Thanks to the generosity of the U.S. of A., tons of sand have been added to the once-eroded strand, and it's quite lovely. The jetties are remnants of a long-ago experiment to keep sand from shifting north toward Sandy Hook.

After a long run from Spring Lake to Asbury Park and back, along a glorious stretch of boardwalk and ocean, Mom warmed up at a family friend's sublime Belmar coffee shop, Turnstile. I doubt Mike and co. would allow dogs in there, but I'll bet he could be persuaded to put a water bowl outside. Just the thing one would need after too much salt water.  Or too much "Jersey Shore."

Monday, February 13, 2012

I'm on WBUR!

OK, so I didn't write the winning essay for RadioBoston's and The Drum Literary Magazine's Zip-Code Stories (Mom did) but I do have a significant presence in the actual essay and in the interview that aired this afternoon on WBUR. Let's just say Mom should be ashamed that she leaves me behind when she goes ice skating on Morses Pond (MoPo to us insiders). At least I was quoted high up in the piece. Plus she threw in a plug for my blog.

After all, one could hardly discuss 02482 without mentioning moi.  I'm quite the celeb and expect concomitant treatment. For example, I shove my way right into the offices at Wellesley Books and my nose right into the copious dog biscuit bins, and they still let me in. I could argue that I help sell dog books, as today I planted myself right in front of the excellent display, conveniently located within reach of the treat bin.

Concomitant. There's a word you don't run across every day. Therefore, I shall provide the definition: as an adjective, naturally accompanying or associated with. But I like the noun form: a phenomenon that naturally follows or is associated with something. That's me: a phenomenon, and I certainly and naturally accompany Mom wherever (almost) she goes.

Have a listen here.  Unfortunately, a recording of my resounding bays would have blown out the mikes, so one must imagine them instead.