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A few thoughts from Gulliver


If the President's dog, Bo, can write an op-ed piece and get it published in this morning's New York Times, I can certainly have some fun with the occasional blog of my own. My name is Gulliver. "Gully" for short. To my human readers, Happy Friday! To my dog brothers and sisters, Happy Dog Day!

Dogs are certainly coming up in the world. First there is Bo's column (well written! You should read it), and then on the "Today" show (I nap through most of it) this morning, a story about Pet Airways. You wouldn't get me on one of those things, but now dogs (and yes, cats) can fly out of cities like New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Boston and Philadelphia, and not in the baggage hold, like in times prior, but right up in the passengers' cabin (all the people stuff has been taken out).

I’m a stay-at-home dog. You can barely get me into the car to go to the vet. Plenty of excitement here. We live on the side of a hill, and I watch the street down there for people and dogs, and when I see them, my ears and tail go up and I bark like crazy until I can't see them anymore. The hill is so steep that the telephone poles along the street are actually below my eye level, and I am all the time looking down at birds flying past. It does interesting things to dog instincts. Barkeley – Dog, I miss her – told me that when your yard is open space that you start to want to chase things like airplanes and blimps when they are flying low through your "yard." I have seen pictures of her barking and chasing a Sanyo blimp that came by pretty low one day.

I was a big puppy when they brought me home 10 years ago, obviously destined, when I grew up, to be bigger than Barkeley, who was average size for a Sheltie. That's why they call me Gulliver. Barkeley was great, a real lady, and very kind, but also a lot of fun. We had great chases, even if she was faster than I was. She was beautiful, but she had funny ears. They didn't flop over. She died a couple of Christmases ago, and I still miss her. I hear talk around here of getting another puppy, but it hasn't happened yet.

Don't get me wrong. Life is good. My people love me, and I think they even understand me a little bit. They don't mind when I run right past them to my food bowl. They just look at me and say, "Food first, people second," so they know basic dog philosophy. They also tell me I am beautiful, but I don't pay much attention to that. I am not a dog to put on airs. Give me the simple life, a good ear scratch, a shady hallway. At Alta Mira, every day is a dog's life. Bo, my friend, you can have the spotlight. I wonder if he is on Facebook.

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  • I am a journalist, educator, writing consultant and author, living in La Mesa, CA. I am a native of Texas, which shows in most of my work. I believe that anything is possible. When I was 35, I realized that the ideal life would be to have the imagination of a six-year-old, and the wisdom of a 65-year-old. I can still get to the imagination (as you can, simply by cutting away all the data you’ve learned from first grade on) and I now possess the wisdom of a 65-year-old. Being 65 can be unsettling – too late to plant trees and enjoy the shade – but the wisdom that comes with it is terrific compensation. I learned in 50th grade that, no matter how bad things get, there is always compensation. Now I am in the 60th grade, and I am learning things that I didn’t know in 59th. This September, I’ll start 61st grade, and learn things I don’t know now. To find what grade you’re in, start with the year you started 12th grade, and count up. My newest book is “Warbirds – How They Played the Game.” My new company is The Write Outsource, quality media writing on deadline, at www.writeoutsource.com. I am working on a book about the media, and I am about to revise my cookbook about home cooking on a tight budget, such as so many of us face at this time.
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