Well, Birdy got hold of my credit card and just donated to KWAX because this rescue dog named Cody wanted matching funds.  I find it amusing that during their fund drives, this wonderful classical music station has regular contributions from various cats and dogs.  I'm listening as I clean my office.  It's a very rainy day which, perhaps, explains why my curly-girly was getting into mischief.

Sadly, on air they called her a "rescue dog" which she most decidedly is not.  (But perhaps they wouldn't have taken my money if they didn't say she was a rescue.)  She was contributing, she felt, out of noblesse oblige.

Poodle Attack!

Birdy in her Ruff Wear jacket

Met this dude called Frank in the dog park Friday.   Espying his two poodles from a hillside vista in our recently groomed dogpark, I rushed the Bird-girl down the hill, clomping in my Yaktrax.

This video shows the greeting I was looking for at the end of my clomp.

Frank and I chatted for awhile and he told me a bunch 'o' great stories about his dogs Ivan and Coco.  The older, taller Ivan I remembered, for he was Birdy's first poodle play date.  I'd met Ivan's female primate pack member at Bend Pet Express.  She made sweet noises at Birdy and invited us over.  We met once.  Birdy was soooo tiny then that she ran under Ivan's belly which, like the bellies of most poodles, was a finely-tuned concavity.  (Would George Orwell roll gravely over if he read that last sentence?)

As we spoke, the dogs played.  Mostly they stood around chewing sticks.  I'm not a big fan of Birdy swallowing outdoor stuff because she's had unexplained vomiting a few times.  So I spoke to her in a nasty tone to indicate I didn't want her doing that.  So, as she does in the house with Will, she trotted over to the male voice to be saved from me.

And he said, "Is your Mom punishing you for chewing that nice stick"  as he scratched her belly and hugged her.  And, because he had earlier told me that his folks had raised poodles, I deferred to his indirectly stated judgement regarding the safety of stick chewing.

And as usual, I didn't argue with this stranger over the use of the word "Mom."  I am very literal-minded when I encounter this word analogizing the relationship between a canine and primate as familial.  I believe that canines and primates are two different species and that they would not be able to interbreed and produce actual offspring.

I am reminded that Birdy is NOT a human every day.  And thank God for that!  I mean, like, everyday she takes a nap with her eyes half open -- she's obviously in some state between being awake and being asleep, a state that most humans cannot achieve! And dogs don't feel shame!  They simply learn to connect a certain action with a certain reward or punishment.  They don't hold on to bad feelings, unlike us higher primates.  And, of course, as a primate I have opposable thumbs!

Now, I'll admit that there have been a few occasions when primates and canines have confused their relationship.  Think of Mowgli.  But he was a rare case. There are just too many people claiming to be related to their dogs.   It's not statistically believable.

Beauty Running

I'm so upset I didn't have a film camera with me this morning!  Or at least the phone that takes movies.

Four upper-primates met and allowed their gang of dogs to run and play.  Kylie, Birdy's wrestling buddy, was there along with red-spotted Coco (Cocoa?) and a really beautiful rusty-cream moyen poddle named Bijou.  Or was it Bijoux?  Movie theatre or jewel?  I'm going with movie theatre.

ANYhooooo.....So, what would I have filmed?  Four dogs running through the woods:  Coco, followed by Bijou, followed by Birdy, followed by this beautiful young Golden Retriever with long, clean fur.  They were about a classroom's length away from us on the path, leaping through the junipers and brush, Coco bunching her muscles and springing ahead, body low to the ground, the poodles prancing behind.

from Alltypesofdogs.org

I told Coco's primate that Coco didn't look like a Coco unless I thought of it as Cocoa, because her spots are the color of a cup of milk chocolate cocoa.  When I think of Coco, I picture more fluffy foofy animals, not tough ones like this beautiful red hound with her perfect rectangular head.