Warning Warning! Tear Jerker Alert!!!

ATTENTION ALL DOG LOVERS, AND PEOPLE OF A GENERALLY SAPPY NATURE:

The movie "Marley and Me" is one of the biggest Boo-Hoos since "Old Yeller".  The movie is wonderful and funny up until the last 10 minutes or so. BUT, as soon as Marley gets old, prepare to exit rapidly lest you embarrass yourself in front of a theater full of people . ( Who will also be sniffling unless they either have no pulse or are psycho serial killers with no feelings).

At the very least bring a large box of tissues.

Consider yourself warned,

Close friend of Miss Lucille

Too Damn Many!

You may have noticed from my bio that I am an Alpha Female in the canine realm. This simply means that I RULE and I am  shocked everytime I go out to see that there are still other dogs out there. How dare they exist?  What nerve!  Rest assured, dear Reader, that I express my outrage at this transgression as loudly and aggressively as possible via earsplitting barking and snarling, with a heapin’ helpin’ of badass attitude. During car rides (one of my favorite activities by the way) I have been known to go Postal at the sight of random  roadside walkers, simply because they might be walking a dog….you just never know. 

 Now I know you’re saying “But Miss Lucille, you’re a Labrador. Aren’t they supposed to be goofy and friendly? Lots of licking and slobbery stuff?”  Well, yes and no. Most of those simpering  idiots are not Alphas. They’re just…well, ordinary dogs. Big ones, little ones, short ones, fat ones, yappers, lappers, and way too many crappers. There are just too darn many of my fellow canids which brings me  to the point of today’s dissertation: Population Control.

From what I hear tell this is also a problem with you two legged types as well.  6 billion and counting. (what if they all had dogs? Aye Carimba!) Now I’m just a beastly beast but it sure seems to me that this rock we’re all floating through space on can’t possibly support this many people (and all their pets…) in equally satisfactory ways. We need a massive population control effort and we need it NOW!  Spaying and neutering for both pets and people, now that’s an idea who’s time has come. I personally have been spayed since I was a youngster and I highly recommend it. No messy birth control for me.

The good news is that this new president guy with the funny name just lifted something called “The Gag Rule” regarding gov’t funding and birth control clinics. (and I thought gagging was just what happened when I ate too much grass). Anyway, this is all a little over my furry head, but as I understand it, The Gag Rule meant that any health clinic worldwide that received US funding was very limited in what services they could offer, or even talk about.  Many humanoids were counseled simply to just to “not do it”.

Now there’s some realistic and helpful advice for you.

Any violation of this rule meant loss of funding and a lot of these places were/are dependent on this US money to survive. Of course one would have to wonder  what they needed the money for given how limited they were in what they could offer. Kind of a Catch 22, whatever that is….

 Fortunately, with the new ruling all these places are now free to go about their business unfettered by silly and and repressive politics.

To which I exclaim: Halleleuja!

Now if only we could do something about all those other dogs…and cats. OMG! DON’T get me going on the subject of cats. I’m hairing up just thinking about it.

So, as the only dog who really truly has the right to exist,

 

I remain, Her Most Alpha-ness

Miss Lucille

If this chair could talk

Well, I’m back.

I won’t comment on the reasons for my absence. I can’t help it if I’m a dog. That's just the way it is. So get over it folks! (Does that constitute a comment?)(Oops).

Anyhow, things are not the same these days Chez Miss Lucille (that’s “at my house”, for you less Continental types). Most Excellent Female Companion returned from a long time away and always seems to be sitting down in this strange looking chair. This thing moves, it has wheels, and some part of my anatomy always seems to be just under those damn wheels. I’ll just get comfortable, right smack dab in the middle of the kitchen floor, where all good Labradors belong, and Whoa Daddy! Here she comes, “Lucy up! Lucy UP!” I’ll just get out of the way in time. Then, I’ll settle somewhere else, and Damn! Here she comes again….”Lucy UP! UP!”

This goes on all day.

What the heck is going on here?

I decided to take matters into my own hands (paws?) and get some answers. You see, being a blogging dog is just one of my many talents….I can communicate with seemingly inanimate objects. I bet you folks could too if only you weren’t so stuck on being, well, Humans. So I took that damn chair aside, and boy did it have a tale to tell. I think I’ll let the chair speak for itself. Take it away, Mr. Wheels:

Hello.
I am a rental chair #47 and I have no permanent home. My last gig was an elderly lady named Sophie. She was 72. She had advanced Alzheimer's. She sat in me most days like a deflated balloon. She didn’t have the stamina to move me around so she just sat and waited, and waited and sat, staring at nothing in particular. Occasionally her sister Ida came to visit and played the radio for Sadie. Somewhere, deep inside the gauzy muddle of her brain, a little girl was twirling and jumping to the music. I know this because I could feel her dancing, the faint impression of her buttocks flexing ever so slightly in time to the music against the faux leather sling of my seat. Later on, she died during one of those days of waiting and sitting. She was not dancing that day.


All told, about 5 people have ended their days in my not so comfy embrace. Only one guy actually fell out, but I won’t go there.

Before Sadie, was Jason, a young man in his late twenties. He had broken both legs in a skateboard accident and needed me for 2 months. He was an angry guy who slammed me around, never really adapting to using me with agility and grace. He drank, and cussed lot and mostly watched TV nonstop. He also spoke very badly to his Mother who seemed to try only to please him.

Inspite of the fact that I give people mobility, most people hate me and are very angry at my limitations. It’s a thankless job. Jason eventually got his legs back but I am sure his anger stuck around.

Then there was Luther, a homeless black man with diabetes. He began to lose sensation in his lower extremities and eventually lost control of his legs. He too was a drinker and a heavy smoker who once fought for freedom in the Vietnam war. Luther himself never really felt free. He muttered and mumbled and talked to no one in particular about life’s injustices. Eventually, He ended up in a Veteran’s Home where he passed away, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips, dragged under by the bitterness of his hardscrabble life.

My current “rider” is Miss Lucille’s Female Human Companion. She was in a motorbike accident and banged up her foot pretty badly. After 8 weeks she is finally starting to walk again, but it is slow going. She is starting to use me less. I get the feeling I will not be missed. (Especially by Miss Lucille!)

Mostly, my job is a sad one. For most people I represent diminishment, frustration and loss. I hear tell that when I am deemed too old and used and beat up I will be shipped off to a foreign land like Africa or Guatemala where some one will be very grateful to have me, dents, rips and all.

I guess misery is all relative...

So, that’s about it from my perspective. I will do my best not to run over Miss Lucille’s foot again, but then, I don’t have much control over that.
After all I’m just the chair, not the rider.


Keeping it not exactly real,
I remain,
Miss Lucille

Miss Behavior

ATTENTION BLOGOSPHERE:

MISS LUCILLE BEHAVES BADLY, LOSES BLOGGING PRIVILEGES
AP Wire Release, 11pm July 16

Owing to extreme misbehavior Miss Lucille has had her blogging privileges revoked until further notice. Both incidents of misbehavior occurred within one week towards the end of last month. On June 17, at the residence of a family friend, Miss Lucille attempted to savagely attack an 8 week old Labrador puppy as if it were a small edible animal, such as a.....BUNNY! Immediate restraining action was taken and the terrified youngster was unharmed. Miss Lucille could not explain her shocking impulses and was left all alone inside to think about her actions. She can just be seen here in the top pane of glass:

This little fella is glad there is a door between him and that vicious creature just inside.

Finally, sometime on or around Tues. June 20, Miss Lucille defiled a piece of furniture in a most foul and odd manner, seemingly in an act of rebellion. The following substance, of disturbingly unknown origin, was discovered by a Human Companion family member, alerted to it's presence by a disagreeable odor permeating the area. Some how, and defying all known logic, Miss Lucille had deposited said "substance" up on a living room sofa, on top of the pillows.

The mess required quick action on the part of Human Companion Sister, who reported great difficulty not vomiting during the clean up. Miss Lucille has been known to leave unexpected "surprises" in out of the way places, but this is the first time she has climbed up on a couch to do so.

Miss Lucille declined to comment on either episode.

Hot n' Chewy!, Hot n' Chewy!

Hello Troops,

Time to talk about something near and dear to my heart..... the Chew Toy. Flowers are nice and frilly, but my interest ends pretty much after I'm done piddling on them. Owing to the fact that my human companions possess an unusual sense of humor, I enjoy quite a chew toy collection. Let's take a tour.....

Sometimes, one is not enough. Here we have Minkie and the Donut. More on Minkie later.

I think the Minkies (they come and go ), (because I continually eviscerate them) are really supposed to be a Hedgehog whatever the heck that is. All I know is that they have one of those damn squeakers inside them, and I will not rest until I have removed it, along with all the stuffing. This is one of my full time jobs. (Lounging around is the other).

SuperBad Human Male Companion finally made a game out of restuffing my Minkies with other items, including Squirrely, another "Plush" toy who is largely seen only as a disembodied tail sticking out of Minkie's stomach.

This is potentially a disturbing image. But not to me; disemboweling is a hobby!

Of course, by now you must be saying, "....but Miss Lucille, WHY is it called a Minkie?" I'm glad you asked. Pull up a chair, hold all my calls....this may take awhile.

Long ago, well before my time, Human Companions had another dog, one handsome hunk of maleness named Tubby. (Don't ask....) Despite his name, he was a real looker:

So, Mr. Handsome had a chew toy that looked like a monkey. And somehow, Monkey got changed to "Minkie" in doggy/baby talk. (Sick people, really. Get a life.) But, wait, there's more. "Minkie" became....a VERB! It turns out that Tubby had this habit of kneading his Minkie with his front paws, kind of like cats do. Perhaps some sort of vestigial nursing puppy manoeuver? And so this behaviour was called...Minking! And every "plush" chew toy thereafter became....a "Minkie".

Phew! Are you still with me? I wouldn't blame you if you took this moment to go get a beer.
Is this weird? Fo Sheezy. But someday when the entire known Universe is using the term "Minking", you will know where it came from. You will be among the enlightened Elite.

Finally, we got this new really odd plushie, which of course they named...... PINKIE!!!!!!!

And I'm supposed to be the Dumb Animal.

So, to wrap this up, the rest of my bizarro chewies largely fall into the weathered rubber category. The first one is NOT a kinky sex toy, I swear. I've been neutered since I was 2 so don't blame me on this one. What are people thinking when they make these things? Go figure. They must be made in China.

The next two defy any possible explanation:


In the midst of all this weirdness, finally, lies comfort:

So, there you have it, my Chew Toys,


Keeping it Real, I am Miss Lucille

Burn Baby Burn

Last fall the place where I live suffered devasting wildfires. We had to evacuate but were fortunate that nothing burned near us. There was however ash EVERYWHERE and my lovely yellow fur turned an ugly dingy gray for weeks afterward. It was almost like brown snow. And the air smelled burnt. Yuck. Here are some photos Most Excellent took before and after evacuation. Kinda scary in retrospect although being a dog, I was largely clueless at the time.

I live under that nasty brown cloud in the distance. Notice what a beautiful clear day it is otherwise. This was Sunday afternoon, the fires had been burning for about 5 hours, way inland  from the coast.

Driving home along the coast, we're not really looking forward to going into that smokey cloud:










This is Monday at about 10am. Things are really "cooking" now. Humidity level, 9%!!!! wind speed, 20-40mph.

This is what this area usually looks like:

Again, it is really a gorgeous day outside of the firezone, with crystal clear Santa Ana skies. If you don't mind tinder dry conditions. The sickly yellow tint in some of these photos is the sun shining through the orange brown smoke. We are about to evacuate. The fire is headed straight at us.

The cars were loaded, with everything we could reasonably bring of value, and off we went to stay at a house in La Jolla that we used to own. Thanks to Michelle P., the current owner, who so graciously let us hang out for a few days. It was totally AWESOME getting to be back in our old place again.
Here are some amazing but rather scary sunset pictures taken looking out over the mighty Pacific, the fires still roaring inland.

     Flashforward 5 months and nature pulls a fast one by turning previously charred and blackened hills into glorious swaths of wildflower color. I give my most heartfelt sympathies to all those who lost so much in these blazes, but alas, fire is a part of our ecosystem out here in So Cal.
     And like the Phoenix rising from the ashes, some good soaking rains have given us flower lovers a dazzling spring display. Many of these blooms actually need burns in order to be allowed to germinate. Most Excellent brought the digicam and off we went. Check these out:

"Parry's Phalecia", Now THAT'S a blue you can write home about! Someone had sprayed their burnt yard with seeds of these flowers, and WOW what a display:The area in these photos is the San Dieguito River Valley near Rancho Santa Fe, CA. Canyons and valleys like this one funneled plumes of fire at terrific speeds towards the ocean. Sorry,we didn't get photos of this area right after the blackening; trust me it was pretty horrific. Like a holocaust ( as if I knew what that was) (fortunately, I don't)(after all I'm just a beastley beast, living the good life).

Here are some charred remnants of the fire, many of these trees now leafing out. It's really hard to fathom how green it all is , considering what it looked only 5 short months ago.

And a few more:

This last photo is contains a melted cactus. I don't think this one is coming back. But, it will decay and provide nourishment and shelter for something else. Such is the cycle of life.

So, out of hideous, life threatening destruction, you get.....wildflowers! Ain't life grand?

Keeping it real,
Miss Lucille

Word du Jour

Main Entry:    Scoo-tchie    

Pronunciation:   /skooo-tchee/

Function: noun

Etymology:  Post Modern Eastern American, most likely derived from a combination of the two words, Scratchy and Coochy-Coo.

Date:  20th Century

1. An action of endearment, primarily rendered to a canine companion, involving an      enthusiastic massage of key furry points, such as the ruff of the neck, behind the ears, above  the tail, etc.  Scootchie most often  includes involuntary facial contortions such as eye  squinting and  a peculair gritting of the front teeth, by the human particpant .  The  propensity for this behavior is thought to be an  inherited trait, although the gene coding  for Scootchie has yet to be identified. Scootchie is  generally well tolerated, if not  extremely appreciated by the recipient canine.   Because of the vigorous nature of the scootchie "massage", it is not suitable for very small  breeds and/or other species such as CATS, reptiles or fish, although this has  been attempted  unsucessfully. 

The following photograph is an example of a situation likely to involve some serious Scootchie:

Another photo with seated scootchie: