In the Bunker

I don’t have a dog.  I also don’t have a cat.  Or birds.  I was at a party this weekend where the owners had so many birds in their bathroom I was waiting for Alfred Hitchcock as I washed my hands.

They also had an afghan dog the size of a small horse walking around who was eye level with the buffet table.  He appeared to be deliberately walking nonchalantly by the table (Ok, I could be wrong about that but it did occur to me) and with each pass would cock his head to the side and give a tongue test to the goodies on the edge of the table.

I decided to eat anything near the centerpiece.

I stayed with people who had three dogs and I worried that when I got up early in the morning and went into the kitchen, I’d set them all to barking.  But, none did.  One of them, named Satchel, is a large dog who may have “doodle” in its breed name but I’m not 100% sure since that could be the other one.  Anyway, this creme colored large dog lumbered in and stuck his soft snout in my hand and said good morning.

His bedroom is their beautiful expensive couch.  He has very long legs which he somehow folds up into a nest that cradles him on the soft sofa like a large center pillow–which is what I thought “he” was when I walked by until his head flew up to take notice of my passing.

I took pictures of him outside and then the other dogs came out and I took a few more pictures.  One of them, who come to think of it, may be the one with doodle in his breed name, didn’t run as much as spring from place to place.  I would change his breed name from “doodle” to “spring doodle”. ( I wish my template for this blog allowed for additional photos–are you listening WordPress?)

The dog on top of this post saw a squirrel shortly after I took his picture and went jetting out to give chase.

I don’t know the name of the dog or its breed but when I saw this expression, I saw myself.

“Living in a bunker” is how I have described these past weeks of headline stomach churning days.

This is how it looks (and I looked) writing my blog each day, except the dog, and this gives me no pleasure to admit this–the dog is much cuter.

©Pat Coakley 2008

9 Replies to “In the Bunker”

  1. Oh Pat, those EYES! So sweet. I can almost feel the fur! I know what you mean about depressing. More friends losing their jobs left, right and centre. There’s a very good chance Monsieur and I will lose ours before too long. Still, I’m getting sick of feeling ill about it so I’ve started a series on Credit Crunch humour… when you feel like the news is getting too hard to bear, pop across. The first post went up yesterday – Credit Crunchies. You may need earplugs. You have been warned. More to come tomorrow.

  2. Even in your bunkering down mode, you still retain the sweet, sardonic slant of smiling cynicism. ( and Peter Piper Picked…..)

    Eating food around the centerpiece- you are a hoot…

    It’s so hard to maintain this degree of intensity on an every minute, every hour basis, isn’t it.
    We’re plugged in to news reports, blogs, on line favorites, opinions, schizophrenic swings within the same day and I think what sets in is numbness.
    I experienced this in NYC right after 9/11.
    And after personal losses that poleaxed me, one after the other.
    The ability to respond with shock just diminishes out of self protection.

    Although having pets means no spontaneous trips or overnights, I haven’t been without one ( or more, usually…) for the past 35 years of my life.
    Knowing the benefits that studies on pet therapy have shown to be viable and quantifiable, I can say that little feels as calming and centering as rubbing a velvety ear and watching the metronome tail responding in accord, or the purr box of a kitty, who delicately walks on your lap to knead your tummy with her sweet little paws.

    I’m smitten by this pooch on your post, and that expression on his face? If you go out to the super market looking like that?
    Don’t be surprised if several families don’t try to adopt you!

  3. Epic-I just went to Credit Crunchies! Excellent. This is what we need, some humor to throw at this malaise. At least, THAT is in our control. I am crossing my fingers for you and Monsieur…tight tight tight. But, I know and I can see Bonnie knows what you mean when you say you are getting sick of that feeling ill feeling.
    BL: I got back an email I had sent you this weekend saying it was undeliverable. When I looked at this comment, I see maybe I sent it to old email. So, I’m going to resend it to this address. Let me know if you get it.

    Your words are exactly, exactly right. Was thinking similar ones over the weekend. The numbness. The lessening of intensity as well as range of emotions in general, because you really can’t keep it up. I wonder if the psychology of the markets are at all aligned with this same numbness and exhaustion.

    At any rate, a touch of mango jelly lifts the spirits, as do you with your kindness and unbelievable timing for small gifts. You are a bona fide blessing in a skirt. Or, shorts. Whether in NYC or St. Croix.

  4. The worst thing is that if what they predict happens, we’re in for a long haul. Everyone is freaking. However, humans have a survival instinct that kicks in and I often say that worrying about something is far worse than when it actually happens. Having lived through a couple of lifetimes when I didn’t know where the strength came from, I look back and it’s as if a different person was in my body. If I can get through the tough stuff I’m referring to, (and I’m ueber sensitive), then I have faith that we will all get through whatever lies ahead. I don’t know how, but I know we will. Humans just do. We took all the good times. Now we have to get through some bad. That’s the animal that life is.

  5. Just call me the grinch!

    I don’t have that much time for people with lots of pets. After living in Asia for two years it really makes me angry to see animals being better cared for, than so many people who have such hard lives.

    I also have relatives who breed dogs (afghans, standard poodles and pekinese) and I have seen the dog fancying world close up. The whole scene is depressingly inane.

    Sure enough pets are good companions for the sick and elderly but on the whole I tend to see them as mechanisms that turn money into crap for you to clean up.

    Also, what gives with the need to be unconditionally loved by an animal? I just don’t get it. Want a friend, talk to an old person sitting on their own in a public place.

    ……Don’t even get me started about people who keep birds in cages

  6. Razz: “Just call me the grinch”: The Grinch of Singleforareason!!
    Epic: I love that phrase “that’s the animal life is.” And, you are right to remind me (us) that we have all parts of our lifetimes we’ve survived without knowing how!

  7. I love your decision to go black & white with this. It gives it a vintage feel AND it is perfect for a plethora of greeting cards: “Cheer Up;” “Feel Better,” “I’ll Be Home Soon…”

Comments are closed.