The Mammoth Lakes Repertory Theatre, in cooperation with Mammoth Lakes Foundation, will present the Second Annual Mono County Finals in the national Poetry Out Loud competition Saturday, Jan. 28, at 6 p.m.
Fido is having the time of his life.
Every day is the finest time of his life, if you ask me, but even I would admit that this day ranks right up there.
He is reading his fortunes.
âDog who pee on dog gets a leg up on the competition,â he intoned. Waiting a comedic moment, he then howled in glee.
Fido had received a box of dog fortune cookies in the mail. Who from? He doesnât know. An admirer. But right there on the Chinese takeout box, was the label, âKung Fu Fido,â made somewhere in Minnesota.
December 16th, 2011
Fido is shopping.
âThe trick,â he said, âis to find gifts that dogs themselves dig, rather than humans. Get it? Digging dogs?â
Fido paused to lick his, um, belly. He lay near the table, dictating to me as I worked the Web on his behalf. His legs are as nimble as fence posts, and his paws just canât work a keyboard.
âYou have an actual strategy?â I asked.
âWhy, yes,â he said.
âI get it. You are a very clever dog, my good man.â I gave him a pat and a scratch.
Fido closed his eyes halfway. He was in thought.
Fido does not pass gas.
âItâs an untoward behavior,â he said the other night. We lay in bed, ready for a long winterâs nap. âItâs no more acceptable than it is in humans.â
âItâs a good thing you think like that,â I said. âOtherwise youâd be outside.â
We had just finished reading the long, long, l-o-n-g New York Times article about purebred dogs, especially bulldogs.
âInveterate farters,â said Fido. âItâs why I didnât mind that the Georgia Bulldogs didnât win. Not even the Superdome would be able to mitigate their behavior.â
Fido is teaching me deep breathing.
âHey, hey, hey hey!â
He lay on his side and invited me over.
âI have noticed that lots of humans donât quite get this,â he said, âbut once you get the hangdog of it, itâs easy and it will make you feel better.â
I had just passed through a weekend of football â college and pro. During the Iowa-Nebraska game a week ago, I was a total wreck. I can handle a boring game if my guys come out on top, but alas, it was that kind of game and that kind of season.
Fido hates the woodstove.
Go figure. Dogs are supposed to love them, if you believe the pictures in the L.L. Bean catalogs.
âGet me out of here,â he pleaded. âWhat is this? Aruba?â
This was on one of those really cold days in early November, when the wind howled and the temperatures dove. Outside, our street was frozen solid, with icy spots all over the place.
I built a fire in the woodstove and things were darned cozy at our place, at least for me.
Fido retreated from the living room and took up a post under the dining room table. He panted.
âPeople get the wrong idea about Oakland,â Fido said.
âYeah, I know. What makes you say that?â
âI was there for more than a month, and I didnât see anything like the stuff that showed up on the Jon Stewart Show or the TV news.â
Fido leafed through the California section of the Sunday New York Times, pondering the pictures. When Fido reads the papers, itâs awkward because his finger dexterity is poor, and he tends to get distracted easily.
This time, he lingered.
ictor and Dennee Alcala welcomed a baby boy, Ezra Xavier on Sept. 30. âEzra arrived late but was well worth the wait. He has been welcomed into the world by a large, loving circle of family and friends who have provided support in countless ways,â sez the new parents. âŠ
Our deepest condolences to longtime local Stacy Corless, who lost her sister, Lisa, on Oct. 16. Our hearts go out to Stacy and to all of Lisaâs friends and family. âŠ
âWelcome back, Ziggy!â Thatâs Ziggy, the much-beloved, black cat that belongs to Crowley Lake residents Fred and Patti Stump. Ziggy disappeared early last weekend and still wasnât back Monday morning. As any Eastside cat owner has learned, after three days of being missing, itâs rare for a cat to come home again around here. But on Monday morning, Patti Stump decide to try again, and tapped on the closed shed door of a neighborâs place. A hearty and cranky âmeowâ answered her, and Ziggy was found. Awww. âŠ