Talk About Indy Films.

I've been working on a film idea. But it's kinda hard to find a DP willing to participate in the artistic dream of a canine... much less, one who could even understand me.

Then I started thinking.

My human has a "movie" setting on his tiny digital camera. I'm pretty sure that, eventually, he'll get some sort of editing capability on his computer. So why not get him to help me shoot some of the scenes? I can work out the rest in "post."

Well he's been pretty busy these past couple of days. Hard to pull him away from the computer. (and my script isn't even done, either)

But tonight, at about 6pm, I reminded him of his promise to let me chase some deer this evening. Then I told him to bring his camera.

Well, our shooting schedule went all to hell. His camera wont stay on long enough for me to find some deer to chase. Then, when I do take off running... he's not ready.

Anyway. I chased about 16 of them through the woods, but he didn't "get" that. He did get me running back after my hunt.

Oh well. He may not be good, but at least he's cheap.

Great day.

I was starting to get a flea problem. But no more. We went to the vet. I got treated. Then, my human took me to the groomer for a mani-pedi.

So now, the AC is on and I've got the bed to myself. No more itching. Nothing to disturb my beauty sleep.

I hope he doesn't start practicing the harmonica again.

It Is So On.

I'm feeling pretty lean and mean these days. I just haven't been eating as much. Some might say "oh no, what's wrong Pancho? Are you sick?"

Sure, I'm sick. Sick of not catching those goddamn deer.

So you know how when you're watching an action movie - and the main character has taken his last bit of bullshit - and the music changes while he straps on his gun and gathers his instruments of revenge?

Yeah, well that's like me. And my "instrument of revenge" is this newer, leaner body, folks. I am turning myself into a highly trained chasing machine.

Someday, when deer teach their children to fear, they'll tell them of my legend. And when my name is spoken, all will tremble.

Well. Sorry.

Tonight I had a "run-in" with another dog. Some neighbors had visitors who brought their black-hair-mutt.

I went nuts from the Eagle's Nest so my human hollars over and asks if he can bring me down to see if they'll "play well together."

(when will he learn?)

Me and their bitch met. We sniffed. And then she did something. Can't quite put my finger on it (or paw, whatever), but I knew she needed to know I was boss, toot sweet.

Bit her neck and she rolled out of it while my human pulled me off of her.

So I guess I fucked up. I don't think my human is going to let me near another dog for a while.

Oh well. It was fun.

My how things have changed.

When my human first got me, and for many years after that, he used to fantasize that one day he'd be rich and could afford to have me trained to not run away. Really. He did.

What he didn't realize is that it just takes time. When you love a dog... really love him... over time, he'll develop an almost unhealthy need to be near you. I never thought I'd be that way, but I am. Throughout the ups and downs he and I have gone through together, he has been the one constant... the one thing I could count on.

So, whereas he used to block the front door to keep me from running out... NOW, he just leaves the door open. Sometimes, the gate, too.

I've always loved going for drives. But used to be, going to Lowe's on a leash was a big treat. NOW, I ride EVERYDAY with him to town. We go to a restaurant and I either wait inside... or he opens the door and let's me join him outside while he eats. No leash, mind you.

If we're driving down the road and I have to pee, even, he just pulls over and lets me jump out with dignity to do my business.

All that having been said... if for any reason he ever touches the walking leash, I still freak out with joy. Old habits die hard, I guess.

(and they say dogs have no memory!)

I should drive a muscle car.

It has occurred to me recently that deer are, in fact, JUST like zombies. When humans go anywhere... as soon as it starts getting dark, they're all, like, "WE GOTTA GET HOME... BEFORE THE DEER COME OUT!!!"

Well, tonight we were home... when - the - deer - came - out. And I was not on a leash. I saw about 15 of them at about the same time as my human gave me the go-ahead. By the time I got into the middle of 'em, another 15 come running over the hill... RIGHT INTO MY KILL ZONE.

Actually, I don't try to kill them. They're zombies, remember? I think they can only be killed with a car.

No, I don't kill. I disrupt. I fuck with their "status quo."

Then, I piss on everything and smile.

The Art of Focus

This is how it is done, people.



Granted, I am not a filmmaker. But this gives you some idea of how great it is to live here and be a dog. There are creatures everywhere.

Notice the eagle-eye-never-give-up scan. I know they're out there. And its my job to find them.

Don't leave me, dude.

Yesterday sucked. Plain and simple. My human was gone all day. I've become so damn needy (his term, not mine) that I can't even shit when he's gone. His Dad took me out many times, but... nothin. Just couldn't do it.

So finally, when the big guy got home... well, let's just say it was a load off my mind (or colon, as the case may be).

So today is relationship recovery day.

I hope he never gets a job. Ever.