Posts Tagged ‘birds’

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March 7th, 2011 Posted 6:09 am

How come? Something about a road trip, a meeting, a book about Robbie, whoever that may be. Admin and Spence were talking about it, but at the same time a brand new kind of kibble appeared in my bowl. My inside-the-house bowl is the one I mean. I also have an outside-the-house bowl for when I’m in a picnicking mood, but the problem is the birds who seem to often be in a picnicking mood, too.

Welcome Summer, Autumn, Carib dude, beautiful golden (who may be Carib dude from another angle); party aficionado: please try again.

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Posted in Chet The Dog

More Birds (From Thereby Hangs A Tail)

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March 27th, 2010 Posted 9:48 am

What was I supposed to do now? Her eyes were open, at least the one that I could see: the moon gleamed in it, a tiny curve of silver light. I waited for some idea, and one came to me pretty quick: why not pick her up again and carry her? No other ideas seemed to be out there, but I hesitated. Not that I was too tired for the job or anything like that; in fact, I felt strong and peppy, especially now that the air had cooled. There must have been some other reason. I was kicking around a few possibilities about what they could be, as Bernie liked to say, although in fact I had no possibilities in mind, so was actually kicking around nothing, and as for kicking, a ball, for example, I’d never done that except by accident … I lost the thread and a moment or so later saw that Princess was shivering.

I stood over her. The wind rose, sharp and cool, maybe even cold. Not cold to me, but to Princess, for sure. Her big dark eye, the one I could see, didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular. She didn’t make a sound, just kept shivering. I lay on the ground and curled up around her.

The moon moved across the sky. Once a big bird – maybe that same bird that had tracked us during the day – flew across it. The moon, I’m talking about. A very strange sight, the way the bird shape appeared out of nowhere on the moon and then vanished. Princess wriggled closer against me. The shivering stopped. I could feel the beat of her tiny heart.

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Birds

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March 26th, 2010 Posted 9:05 am

“In dreams begin responsibility, huh?” says Admin. “And while we’re on the subject of poetry, did we ever figure out who wrote that bowmen thing?”

“This one?” says Spence. “‘We are all bowmen in this place.
The pattern of the birds against the sky
Our arrows overprint and then they die.
But it is also common to our race
That when the birds fall down we weep.
Reason’s a thing we dimly see in sleep.'”

“Yeah, that one,” says Admin.

They’re talking about birds. Birds aren’t my favorite. Ever notice the mean look in their eyes? Would I feel mean if I could soar around in the big blue sky?

“Nope,” says Spence. “But mystery’s our thing, right?”

(Digital wackiness still happening – thanks for being patient, everybody.)

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Posted in Chet The Dog

Fiscal Responsibility

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January 23rd, 2010 Posted 8:52 am

When I got up this morning – first light, as usual – Bernie was already in the office, not usual. There were papers all over the place and he had ink on his nose.

“We’re doing a budget this year, Chet.” Budget? I knew budgies, a kind of bird, and birds aren’t my favorite, a little on the mean side. Would I be mean if I could soar around in the big blue sky? I ask you.

“A budget, come hell or high water.” High water we’ve got these days in parts of the Valley, but hell? Hell comes up a lot in human conversation but I’m not too clear on what it is. There’s Hellhound on My Trail, of course, a scary song by Robert Johnson – we play him a lot, me and Bernie – and by the way what’s hellhound all about? The only hound I know is Filbert who lives acrooss the canyon and mostly naps.

“I’m just going to download this free software, and then – Oh, no!” The computer made a sound that reminded me of this time the toaster conked out, something about maple syrup. Was maple syrup the problem now? I waited to find out.

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The Books



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