Pluck o' the Irish: Lorcan the Magnificent!

So I am magnanimous enough to give some real estate to other pups—once in a while. This guy is a special one, imported straight from Ireland, just in time for St. Patrick's Day. And does he know how to mug for the camera! Take a peek at his antics.

Dictionary time: what's the difference between magnanimous and generous?

Well, magnanimous is from the Latin meaning "great soul," so that fits moi, of course, and it has to do with feeling generous toward someone or something lesser than oneself. Now, Lorcan is lesser, but only because he's small. I'm sure he has a great soul, too. Generous means giving something more than is usually expected. I would be generous if I agreed to go for an afternoon walk and not insist on going in the car; magnanimous if I agreed to share that car with Lorcan.

English lab rescued on Brook Path!

Without me, the rescue never would have happened. After a leisurely stroll 'round the athletic fields, Mom and Dad expected me to just pop back into the car. When I didn't respond like an automaton, they finally noticed: a cute English black lab was nosing along the road next to the Brook Path.

Intrepid Mom, treats in hand, went to investigate. No collar, no people. The pup loved the Milk-Bones, but then dashed up to whomever was walking down the path. None of them was his owner.

Wellesley Police said they'd send the animal control officer, but meanwhile, Mom was getting nervous. The pup dashed over to a car, and the driver, incredibly, happened to have a leash. Not only was this driver well-equipped, she knew her pups. She immediately tied it, martingale style, around the dog's neck, and we were all set. Mom got the OK from WPD to bring him to the station.

I did my part to clear our way, outfitting our vehicle with my personal emergency siren. Ah-woooo! Ah-wooooo! The dog didn't mind, and I liked the company. Our time together was too brief. Just as we pulled up to the station, Animal Control Officer Sue Webb was pulling out to meet us. She checked for a microchip, and voila! I imagine the pup is already reunited with its owner. Maybe we'll run into each other sometime, under less exciting circumstances.

A shout-out to the lady with the leash: thanks so much! When I went to return it, I couldn't help but notice your stunning dog sculpture and adorable pond. If you need any fish, let me know. I have lots!

Note to self: leave an extra leash in the car.

Partying it up at the Wellesley College Club

Longest nose (and legs) brings new meaning
to "first come, first served."

Two dog birthday parties in Swellesley last night, and because it looked like there were No Dogs Allowed at the Wellesley Free Library (besides Mariah, the famous pet therapy dog and guest of honor), I pointed myself toward the Wellesley College Club.

Sandwich cookies = yum!

Thursday night soirees at the club have become a habit with the top dogs in town. Last night, Suzy celebrated her 15th birthday, and boy, was there a great spread, which was a good thing given that I had to share treats with so many folks. One human guest was going for the Oreo-type cookies when she was warned they were for dogs, only.

Happy Birthday to Suzy!

I tried to give Suzy my pickup line, but she took me literally—no, she didn't come here often. In fact, it was her first visit to Canines and Cocktails (Thursdays, 4-7).  Still, she looked fetching in her birthday hat.

I helped myself to oodles of treats, and was thrilled when my friend Lucy showed up. Fashionably late, I might add. I didn't mind—it just added to her irresistible charm.

See how attentive Lucy looks? That's because she listens to her folks—most of the time. I'm saving the other photo of me being attentive and her zoning out, so I can use it on just the right occasion.

Enjoying a private moment with Lucy.

Pup rejects Martha Stewart's kiss, pops her a big one

Now, I'm not sure I'd want to pucker up to Martha, either, even though Mom is a devotee. Last night, in fact, as our family dined on curried butternut squash and pear soup, we thought: "If Martha were here, she'd make a paint color out of this dish."

Martha, too, was the inspiration for Mom's idea to have her own mini Palais des Poulets in our backyard, complete with color-coordinated eggs. Dad, however, who grew up with chickens when Angelenos still had room for orange trees in their backyards, nixed that idea.

I was a little bit sorry, because chickens are fun.

Anyway, Martha's French bulldog, Francesca, popped her one "like a boxing glove hitting an opponent’s face" when she woke her up before heading out on her round of appearances (see Martha's blog). Fortunately, Martha had her driver, accompanied of course by her stable manager, available to take her to the ER. You can view 34 up close and personal pictures of the horrific aftermath (complete with an unfavorable comment on the hospital room decor). Funny, "up close & personal" is her blog's subtitle. Martha, your attention to detail is amazing.

Martha, if you decide to go into hospital decorating, don't forget vet hospitals. They could use your touch.

Personal P.S. to Martha:
Take it from me: Let sleeping dogs lie. I'm sure you know the French for that. Or should you use Italian instead? And don't forget: Europeans kiss on both cheeks.

Tons of Tuckers: Norfolk Hunt Club's hound haven

"Well, Tucker," Mom said, "You would have loved it. Tons of hounds, all very well behaved, plus puppies!"

I didn't need her to tell me. I could smell those hounds on her from at least a mile away. Our friends Pete and Kate, dog trainers extraordinaire, help walk the hard-working hounds at the hunt club twice a week. Today they invited some members of our family. "Tucker can't come," Pete said. He was right. I wouldn't have fit in. Well-behaved is not exactly the best adjective to describe me. Goofy? Yes. Silly? Yes. Funny? Check. Strong-willed? Double check.

So off went Pete, my sister and Mom while I had Dad all to myself on our morning walk. It was my special birthday present to him.

They started out with a peek at Penny's eleven pups, just a couple weeks old and adorable. What a mom! Penny didn't mind visitors; they gave her an excuse to put her nose in the treat bin. Then, they went for a walk with hound master John and dozens of hounds. The hounds stayed right with John, and if they even thought about straying, he made sure they didn't.

Mom's favorite was Dollop, because he was goofy and endearingly puppy-like, just like me. The hounds knew exactly what to expect from their master and knew their routine. They're trained early on with the help of the older dogs, literally attached as they are paired up. I'll bet Dollop wasn't an easy baby.

The dogs became pretty voluble when we neared a spaniel and when they caught the scent of a German Shepherd, but other than that they were remarkably quiet. Just like me. Hey, maybe I could learn to work for a living. I do admire that pluck in a pup. For now, I think, I'll just take another nap. Being a pet does have its advantages—which cushion should I pick?


A big thanks to John, Pete and Kate for helping my family learn more about me.

So what did I get Dad for his birthday? Dog walking gear, of course!

Woof! It's a wrap

For years, our house wrapping paper was a terrific dalmatian print—not the cutesy kind you're thinking of, but beautifully done and super quality. We still have a sentimental stash of it, but we've long been in need for some new themed rolls.

Enter Paper Source with a cool new wrap. OK, it's more than a tad edgy, as if all those pups were about to get into a Jets vs. Sharks brawl, but we can change with the times, no? Check it out. There's also a wicked looking Boston terrier (but is there any other kind?) backpack for those who want to terrify their schoolmates.

Wrapping paper is the perfect confluence of two mottos: PS' (and mom's) "Create Something Every Day" and mine, "Destroy Something Every Day." Gotta love it.

A Good Summer

Have you ever noticed that no one ever asks, "Having a good winter?" "Having a good spring?" "Having a good fall?" The obvious answer to the first: no, it's freezing and miserable; ditto to the second, and to the third, well, of course not, because winter is coming right up, or I'm stuck on the sidelines watching interminable soccer games in the freezing cold (pick your season).

Where does that come from, anyway, --"having a good summer?" What could be bad about summer, especially if you're a dog? (And by the way, I'm really bummed that the old adage, from a New Yorker cartoon caption, that "no one knows you're a dog on the Internet" is no longer true. According to Monday's New York Times, "On the old Internet, nobody knew you were a dog. On the new targeted Internet, they now know what kind of dog you are, your favorite leash color, the last time you had fleas and the date you were neutered." Ads Follow Web Users, and Get More Personal

Ouch!

"Having a good summer?" is totally the opposite kind of question from "How are you doing?" "How are you doing"" opens up the possibility that someone might say," Oh, I'm completely miserable!" (because it's winter, perhaps). There is no such honest response allowed to "having a good summer?" The only accepted response is, "Absolutely! We're just back from the Vineyard and off tomorrow to ---" (fill in another perfect destination).

Here's what could be bad about summer if you're a dog. Think about it: Are your pets having a good summer while you're off sailing at the Vineyard? Or are they toughing it out at some "pet resort" that is far from all-inclusive?

By the way, has anyone heard whether Bo Obama is headed to the Vineyard, too? I doubt it.

Here's how to tell if your folks are going on vacation without you:

First, are your rations becoming a bit thin? They might be trying to push down your weight—boarding prices vary by weight, not by volume of barking.

Second, have they dragged out that old bed of yours? Some old toys? Remember, kennels are not responsible for personal belongings that may have shifted during doggie playtimes. Your folks will choose only the oldest stuff to pack with you. Meanwhile, they've been shopping for their carefully weathered wardrobe for months.

Third, has your mom sounded desperate as she dials all the old reliable places, only to have them say, one after the other, "Sorry, we're booked!" ?Hey, maybe you'll get to head to the Vineyard after all.

One of my favorite responses to the "How are you" question is this one from the Rev. James A. Woods, dean of Boston College's Woods School of Advancing Studies. No matter when you meet him, he always says, "Extraordinary. Very extraordinary." And he is. And so is summer. As long as your folks are not on vacation.