Visual Riches

How is it that one day can contain so much? I have experienced an embarrassment of visual riches. Friday the 4th was just one of those amazing days Europe offers travelers. Our class group went on a field trip to Konopiste castle in the day... led by our awesome, mellow, down to earth guide Zdenek, the group had a marvelous time. The weather was perfect (70, sunny, perhaps even a bit too warm in moments for our NW sensibilities). The castle is in the French style, with towers at the corners. It was last owned/occupied by Franz Ferdinand (whose assassination is often cited as the start of WWI), an avid hunter. It is estimated he killed 300,000 animals in his time (according to the guides, it would be about one per every hour he was alive!). 

We took the train, walked through the town of Benešov, and to the foot of the hill where we had a break (I got a doppio espresso), and then trudged up the hill. The castle, the inside tour (the armory was phenomenal), the outside gardens, all peppered with Zdenek sharing his knowledge of the history and his people. It's such a gift!

I feel blessed and fortunate to have such great people guide us, coordinate our learning, and offer such amazing trips as part of our package. As you can see from above, the students also had fun (and there were pheasants and peacocks all over the garden area!).

Upon returning, everyone was exhausted. But I still had a hunger...for more, and Prague didn't disappoint. It rarely does. I went to dinner at a lovely little French bistro (the leek soup was to die for, and the dessert!), and then decided to hop a tram up to the Prague castle area. I got there about 9pm on a Friday night, and was stunned.

How is it that I had this place practically to myself? It is hard to put in words. The first is my solitary approach to the castle. The second is St. Vitus Cathedral at night. Again, I had the place to myself! They say it's trite to call Prague magical... it's a cliche. But, the city does cast a spell at night, and I cannot help be entranced by what I stumble across regularly here.

On a side note, there was a guard at the end of that empty street. I smiled, nodded, and walked right through that tunnel as if I knew what I was doing. I assumed he would stop me if it was zakázaný (forbidden). And that second picture? The Cathedral? I took that leaning up against the wall of the office of the President of the Czech Republic. This castle that surrounds this cathedral has been the home to the leader of the Czech people for over 1000 years, and still is the office. Even the Nazi
Reichsprotektor (Reynhard Heydrich) had his office here (until his assassination by two Czech parachutists, a story I will revisit and a history I will explore in person while here).

Yes, it may be a cliche, but I hope this embarrassment of visual treats keeps casting its spell on me. As I sat there last night practically alone (others did arrive, but in such small numbers, a couple or two, a young woman taking pictures, etc), I thought I'd never get tired of looking at this place on a warm, Spring night. Despite the centuries of existence, I hope this place never gets old for me.

Dusk and Walking

My single favorite pastime here is walking. My favorite time to do this is at dusk...as light fails, the lights come on around the city. The weather has been perfect the last few days. Clear skies allow this time to linger for a few extra minutes, as the shades of blue slowly cross the spectrum to black. It's at this time, Prague changes. The streets are less crowded. Even the Charles Bridge becomes walkable. I'm not sure where all the people or tourists go, and why they all seem to miss the best moment.

Prague at dusk adds a new layer to the city's character. Prague at night is a different character entirely. I simply love to walk as sunlight fades, and night Prague takes over. At dusk, I sense a new city coming into being. At night, I find myself stunned anew. Here is some evidence of the city changing.

The Charles Bridge as light creeps across the horizon (the first three). The Jewish Quarter. A church at Namesti Miru (my subway stop), and finally, a tree decorated for the coming Easter market and celebrations in Old Town Square with the Astronomical Clock Tower in the background.

Dusk. Night. It's a safe bet you will find me walking somewhere in the streets of Prague.

Classes Begin

Classes began this week. It's been a whirlwind. It's felt busy and hectic to me, but I can't imagine how it is for the students... still slightly dazed from their trip, from the sudden immersion into a new country, a new place to stay, a new group of people, and for most, this is their first time abroad. They finished finals, hopped on planes Thursday, arrived Friday. Then, they experienced a weekend that had to be a blur of events...followed by a long day of classes on Monday, two birthday celebrations in the group already, a long day of classes Tuesday that ended at the top of Petrin Tower and was followed by a long, leisurely walk back through the park, and more classes today.

I admire them. They are handling it extremely well. At their age, I would not have handled things as openly and positive as these young people. At their age, I was face first in platters of illegal substances, quitting jobs because I felt too good to go to work, and dropping out of college. At their age, I would have already either quit, woke up in a foreign jail, or punched a hole in the wall. These students are jumping in, fully, completely, openly. I admire them.

I have kept my classes pretty simple to start. I begin with checking in on their mental states, their sleep, eating habits, adjustments. We've done some light exercises, and a few readings. Mostly, though, I am bringing them along slowly. In Prague, less than a week in, the experience is doing my work for me. I was shown, and in turn, showed the students, this amazing little pekárna (bakery) near our classroom. CZK 18 for a little 3-4 bite sandwich on heavenly bread. This is less than a dollar (or right about a dollar). We've been twice already! It's hectic and busy in there, and difficult to order, but it's been a great, real live learning experience for all.

And then today, I found another one by accident. I wandered up another street, and saw this charming storefront. I stopped to look in. Another woman walking by stopped and did the same thing. The bakery countered beckoned with treats. She went in. I followed.

This place, called Jungmannovo pekařství, was grand. Today, for lunch, I got a ham and cheese croissant sandwich, a strawberry flavored water, and a piece of chocolate pudding cake dusted perfectly with powdered sugar all for CZK85 - less than $5 - and it was tasty! Jungmannovo pekařství. It's a long name and a place I will go back to, for sure.

Our classroom is in the middle of this raucous part of the city. Vodičkova and Lazarská. Tram lines, traffic, cobblestone streets, just so much noise and city energy. Yet, our classroom is tucked away, and in this lovely little courtyard back off the streets. It's quiet. There's a great little café with fantastic espresso in the courtyard. I was able to meet a few students there, just to do some individual check-ins. 

Yes, they are doing great coming together, but I can see issues coming. Nothing too serious, but with this many people thrown together, personalities will arise. Mediation will be necessary. Classes will continue. I have faith in these students, and even though conflicts will naturally come, I can see them working it out. I believe in them, and the power of this experience, this city, to overcome.

Studenti!

So, the students have arrived and are here, safely... for the most part. We've had a few hiccups, a couple getting lost (but found). But most importantly, they are a terrific group. A wonderful lot. I think highly of each of them as individuals, and what they've done to come together as a group. This is not easy, but they have come together fast in surprising ways. As if the sheer foreignness that surrounds them is an adhesive – they are sticking together in these early days.

They've only been here a few days, but I am sure it feels longer to them. They have already done and seen so much! First dinner together as a group, and then their first full day was a day long Orientation session, a boat ride, and second night dining together. A long guided walking tour consumed their second full day on the ground, and the list goes on. I have occasionally offered to show them something, but also want to let them have experiences on their own. However, when I ask, "Do you want to see ______?" There is a resounding Yes!

This leads me to what I love about watching them. I'm most impressed by these young people and their sheer desire to open their eyes. In our worlds back home, open eyes (and minds) are rare. We are consumed by personal drama, rarely look up from our electronic devices, rarely engage with our surroundings, others, the variety of cultures that exists everywhere, even in the seemingly sterile suburbs or small towns of America.

Yet, here...there is a real hunger in them to not only see, but experience their surroundings in a way they just can't back home. This is a Study Abroad, and already, without a class, the learning curve is steep. It's not something that can be tested though, or measured... unless you placed a ruler next to their eyes as they walked down one of many lanes in Old or New Town. You can literally see it. Eyes open wider. It's visible. It's noticeable. It's wonderful.

One student said, "I can't stop smiling!" as she was walking down the street, hours after getting off the plane. I told her not to worry about. Smile. It is good. Smile as often as you want, as it allows the rest of your mind and body to fully take in the experience. Smile. All of them. At times, I've seen their smiles as big and wide as their eyes... they're soaking it in. I hope they keep smiling.

Marketing

Most everything is better than advertised in the Mother of Cities – Prague. I don't think one can market, or properly speak to the experience of being here. Most everything is definitely better than advertised here in Prague, with one glaring exception:

I was so incredibly excited to see this in the grocery store! I mean, it says Delicate. It says Soft and Strong. It looks whiter. It looks softer. Oh, the pampered American bum vs European Sandpaper. So, in the grocery store (grocery shopping, shopping at the drogeries, is an entirely different experience and post waiting to happen), I was thrilled when I saw the Kleenex brand. And I thought, no it's not bad to want decent toilet paper. I have that right. I can immerse myself culturally in different ways. I don't need thin, coarse, TP that even when used to blow my nose takes a layer of skin with it.

And so with glee, I bought the above package. I believed the marketing. However, that puppy lies. It is not soft, or strong, or delicate. It perhaps is slightly softer, certainly whiter, but it remains just a finer grain of sandpaper.

My soft, delicate, white, American backside is not happy. And the person that put that puppy on this package needs to be taken out back and *&@#%#!   I know Golden Retriever puppy soft. And this, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, is quite simply not.

My Apartment & The Curtains

When I moved into my apartment here in Vinohrady Praha 2, I was excited and blown away. It's huge, and like they promised, I have Wi-Fi (it could be better, but works most of the time), and laundry service! Not too shabby. The only problem I saw right away, was the bed. It's springy and loose and saggy... not a great bed. I can live with that, though.

And then I noticed something else... those giant beautiful windows that let in so much light are fantastic. See them? And the bad bed?

Well those windows are glorious, and beautiful, and it's a tree lined street that is just coming into bloom. Lovely. But, those curtains? I can see everything through them, and everyone can see right back into the bedroom. Clearly. I tested it. During the day and at night (worse at night – one can  make out more than just shapes in the bedroom!). Yet, I'm only here a short time... I can live with it, right? I can turn out the light and get undressed and it's no big deal.

So that's what I did the first night. Except there's a streetlight. A couple of them. Bright ones. And that curtain that doesn't curtain? It lets all the light in, too. I could read in bed with the lights off. I have sleep issues as it is... constant insomnia, fear of going to sleep, combined with a bigger desire to actually sleep. It was a brutally long night.

And so began the Great Curtain Chase of Praha, 2014.

It started at a mall. Yes, in this city of historic places, I was here less than a week and I was in a giant, multi-level shopping mall called Palladium. Tragic, I know. Except on a recent walking tour, the guide pointed out a building that back in the day (1300-1400's) was the first indoor shopping area in all of Central Europe, and could possibly be considered the first mall. Maybe it's not so tragic after all? However, the curtains in this mall were really expensive.

Of course, I ended up at the nicest store. Beautiful furniture, modern, classic, luxurious, just a great home design store. The curtains averaged $600. I thought this was not the best option, and so I mustered the courage to speak, and asked. "Promiňte, prosím. Mluvíte anglicky?" Surprisingly, the younger woman shook her head and pointed at the older woman. She nodded, and I explained. She showed me what they had, and I said, yes, they are lovely, but you know, only two months!  

She thought about it and waved her arms as she said, you need to go to *@^%#?  – as usual, I had no idea what she actually said, but I followed her, and she printed out the name of a store, along with the various addresses. I told her where I was staying, and she circled the two on my metro line. She said, "Yes, go to JYSK. You will find curtains for around $30." And she was right! 

I love this woman.

The next day I was on the Subway out to one of the last stops, where I followed my GPS a mile away from where I actually needed to be. I couldn't imagine that I was standing on the dot of my destination, yet I was in the middle of Communist style apartment towers with depressed landscaping and faded, peeling orange paint. Strangers were staring. I was the stranger. Where was this store? I circled and circled. I peeled left. I spun right. I ran out of time. I had to leave. I found my way back to the train station. And god damn it, JYSK is right next to where I came up from the subway. How did I miss it? I ran in, looked, but was already running late. But I saw enough. They did have cheap options. It took a second trip out there later that day, right before they closed, but I got curtains – both of them, for less than $18 total! 

These are also thin, but have a design, and combined with the other ones, work pretty good. I cannot read with the lights off. Due to the bad bed, I still have problems sleeping, but at least it's dark-ish, and at least I have some semblance of privacy. JYSK. That woman. Thank you. 

I should also mention, hanging curtains on windows this tall, when you are this short, without a ladder or anyone to help, is no easy feat. I balanced my tippy toes on a big stock pot on a layer of folded cardboard that sometimes moved a little, all on top of the windowsill. But they are hung, and somewhat ugly, and I'm proud. When I turn out the lights (yes I can still see things, but not as much), I think, crafty Kenny. Crafty. Boy got some moxie. 

Turista, or Turistický: Part II

Reflections in brief; Reflections in the Vltava.

So, a man alone, walking along the street, is apparently not considered a Turista by most passersby. I have been asked directions multiple times, in multiple languages, by multiple types of people: large and small groups of senior citizens (they love me), young couples, families, etc. They all have one thing in common.

They clutch maps, and look desperately around for something they recognize.

They look too fast to really see anything, though. The panic of not knowing where one is in a foreign city. And then they see me, and they lunge. They say Excuse me and Where is... or Where are we... or Can you help us in a host of languages.

A man alone is no Turistický. But I am. And here's a photo of the Vltava River from one of many bridges.

And here is one of a dead end alley in Mala Strana at night. Yes, a Turistický would not know this was a dead end until at the end.

Yes... I am a Turistický indeed. And in this city, I find no shame in it.

Turista, or Turistický

I'm here for over 10 weeks, so I can be a tourist for a bit: turista, or turistický. In my first few days at Hotel Leonardo (ask me about this place – good breakfast, a sleeping loft so low short little me hit his head numerous times, and a great staff), I wandered the city on foot in the rain.

The rain was a heavy, constant presence early... and so on Sunday, I decided I needed to immerse myself in a museum. I chose Veletržní palác - Národní galerie. The National Gallery and the Collection of Modern and Contemporary Art. I rode Tram 17 on a rainy Sunday in late morning. At the Veletržní palác stop, I looked around and saw nothing. I hesitated. An older French couple clutching a map was doing the same thing. They looked at me, pointed to their paper which listed the same destination. I nodded and we half stood up, but didn't see the museum and the rain was coming down hard. The tram moved on, and we all shrugged, laughed. The next stop was the end of the line, and we had to get out, stand in the rain, wait for the tram to turn around and take us back one stop where we instantly saw the gallery this time. I smiled, they laughed, we walked to the museum together without speaking a word to each other the whole time. Language barriers at work, but a connection made. Every time I saw them in the museum, they'd smile, clasp their hands, and laugh.

The museum itself was immense. Over five floors of art in a vast echo chamber, an institutional, communist, space. Czech Art of the 19th and 20th Centuries, Czech Art of the First Half of the 20th Century, Architectural Drawings for famous buildings, International Art of the 20th and 21st Centuries (so close and completely alone with works by Van Gogh, Monet, Picasso, and more), and finally, Alfons Mucha's The Slav Epic – Slovanská epopej. 

Slovanská epopej is housed in a large, vaulted, dim space. It is a series of 20 (+) incredibly large, two story high paintings by Alfons Mucha that highlight Slavic and Czech history through the ages. These paintings have largely been criticized as overtly patriotic and not Mucha's best work (not to mention historically inaccurate), but to be in this space, dwarfed by the size of each painting alone, to read the history he attempts to address (or rewrite for his own artistic purposes) in each one, to understand the work and years, literally years, creating these pieces... it was a fantastic immersion into the culture I am about to live and work within... and highly recommended.

I spent nearly four hours inside this museum, and could easily come back, as with so many museums. I can't even begin to list all the art I saw, but some of my favorite odd-ball things were: a yellow soccer ball with spikes, 3-D models of sets for famous plays/operas over the years in Prague, costume design sketches over 100 years old, and a fantastic exhibit on Jan Kotík that I just happened to catch the last day of a 6 month long run. Providence in Praha, the fortunate turista.

Let the Prague Posts Begin!

Should I feel bad? I kicked the dog off his blog; it was easier to just rename this one than create another one. Besides, I ditched the dog at home and came to Prague for 2+ months. Two months without the dog (and that other little man) will be hard... but it's Prague. And it's an opportunity. An experience. A once in a lifetime chance to teach and live, for a blink of time, inside a completely foreign history.

A word about the city. There is an incredible volume of great literature written about, or created in, this city. I, in no way, will pretend to add to this or claim a part of it. Yet the names that linger here...Kafka, Kundera, Klima, Rilke, Brod, Hašek, Havel, and then in music, Dvořák, Smetana, even Mozart debuted work here. And these are just names people completely unfamiliar with this city might know. These names are raised by the wind off the Vltava River, and race through you. Their work certainly lives on in this city; it's everywhere.

This city that bridges more than just a river, but links history together; this crossroads between cultures; this city often occupied and living under foreign rule has given birth to art that lasts in all forms. And couldn't that be a definition for art? An expression that carries forward through time, without the burden of decade or century? An expression that leaps forward with the years, and yet stays relevant? So far in my life, I have achieved nothing of this magnitude. Yet, here I step through these same streets (also, through the mire of drunken tourists) and want to touch, to feel, to be slightly grazed even, by this bigger notion. I will reach for it. Or more likely, I will wait for it... and soon, I will be staying just outside that tourist zone, where perhaps, my moment in Prague waits for me.

Is it any wonder I want to focus on the concept of 'place' in the writing workshop I will teach here? This place, the city with many nicknames (Mother of Cities, City of a Hundred Spires, The Golden City), it will take hold in ways I don't understand on only my second full day and night here.

The story of this place is much longer, and more complicated, than a born and raised Seattle kid can ingest into his core. I cannot feign ownership. Still, I take my sneakers and walk on cobblestones, cross bridges, wind my way down narrow lanes, climb hills to castles, and perhaps, step through some narrow curtain, and into that history for a moment.

Hiatus

So I haven't been writing much lately. You see, I went through this spell. It's called the horrible two's. I know, dog years and all, so then consider this... I was two and a teenager, all at the same time. Discipline was not my strong suit. I played. I goofed off. I gave attitude. I did what any good, decent, rebellious retriever would - I refused to bring the ball back.

I am uppity and yuppity and no longer a puppy, so less people stop and say hi to me. This, however, is their loss and not mine. I live in a townhome near the Arboretum. When I walk by French restaurants, the people working there run out to say hi. They know I'm a star.

And sure, due to my unique stumpy, I still stop traffic. Cars slow and people stare. Then a smile. I shrug it off and trot along. I can't make everyone's day. It's too huge a burden, even for me.

And hey, I got a prosthetic device. It took a bit to get used to (my dad's yelling at me right now, "That's an understatement!").  So, it took a lot to get used to... therapy, exercises, a new doctor who is a rehab specialist, lots of adjustments, and now I'm on Stage 2! Stage 2 is cool because it has Skulls & Crossbones. Bad. Ass.  So yeah, with this thing on, I'm stopping traffic regular. Check it out!

I get tired even thinking about it all, so it's Trip...and I'm out. 

Rapid Fire Updates from 2011

Birthday, Sounders, Trips to Portland and Whidbey Island, Playing ball and not playing ball, in-home dog training (but not really because she said I was so good already and said she felt bad taking my dad's money), being a star pretty much everywhere I go... and even a party at my house. It's been a good year.

You saw my B-Day celebration, and below you can see me sporting a Seattle Sounders jersey before our trip to Portland. Ha! I've got serious style.

This was my bigger event of the year, the trip to Portland. We stayed at a hotel right on the water, which is different water than we have here in Seattle. This water is a river. There are a lot of bridges across rivers. There was a nice park and a river walk and lots of people to say hi to me. But, the real joy of staying in this hotel?

I could go anywhere! And I did. I rode the elevator. I ran down long carpeted hallways. I hung out in the lounge. I rocked the lobby. And best of all, the revolving door! Oh my god, this thing was freaky at first, but once I figured it out, it was so cool. This is how you do it: you dive right in the first open space, and then you hop along with the spinning glass, and then it opens up for just a brief second and you must dive face first out, and presto! You're outside. Amazing. Amaza-balls as some might say.

Dive in. Hop along with the spin. Dive out. Magic. This pretty much sums up my year, but in case you need proof, here's some pics! This is Trip, and I'm out!

Birthday!

It was my birthday and I didn't even know it! But, my family sure did and they helped me celebrate in style! I had SUCH a great day. It started a few days before when they kept saying things to me, "It's going to be your birthday soon." "Someone's turning one!"  I didn't know what they were talking about, but when the day came, I learned birthdays are not something to be ignored.

Birthdays are like Christmas but only for you and no one else!

I got toys, treats, and yes... dessert! Frozen Yogurt made special for dogs like me! It was yummy and nummy and all things good for my tummy. Sigh. Birthdays are nice.

I even got Birthday hats! I started with one, but by the end of the night, well, I looked like this! Lesson learned – you never know what you'll look like at the end of a day-long party!

I'm so pooped (literally and metaphorically), all I can say is, This is Trip and I'm so out!

New Hood, New Parks, New...

It's been a whirlwind my friends. A literal whirlwind. I live in a new place with steps galore! It has nice wood floors and though I slip and slide on them, they feel good on your belly when you get hot. There are three floors here, and I can go anywhere I want! My favorite pastime is to sit at the top of the stairs with a ball in my mouth, and drop it. It bounces and bounces until I just can't take it anymore, and so I race down the steps after it! Rinse. Repeat. This is how fun should be described in the dictionary.

When you're a dog and you move, there is much to get used to and explore. Inside is just part of it, and really, I'm fine anywhere my dad is... I mean, I pretend like he's nothing special, but if he wasn't there, I'd probably freak out.

Outside is where I find myself most excited about the new place. I get new smells, new dogs to meet, new places to pee and poop, and new parks to explore. On my morning walk, there are three parks I go to sometimes:

1. Play structure park. It has a human name, but in dog words, it's play structure park. It has a play structure and when my dad walks me and no one is around, he lets me off-leash and if I climb the steps to the top of the play structure and look out, he hands me a treat from below. This never gets tiring. I'm always up for it when he says, "Go to the top!"  Sure thing, pops, just give me a treat! This is the park we go to most everyday.

2. When we first moved in to this place, we often went to "Muddy River" park down the hill in the low part of the valley.  There was a great place to run off-leash here as well, but I kept finding dirty Kleenex to eat and presto! – Dad stopped taking me there.

3. On special mornings, I get to go an extra hill up and take a lap through "Strange Statue" park. This place has a weird little vibe, and at first it sort of skeeved me out. Now, I am used to it. We have a routine when I come here. I sit right by one of the strange statues, and dad takes the leash off. I stay, under repeated stay commands (I really only need to hear it once). And he walks all the way around this curve in a strange wall and then holds up a treat! I tense, and wait...wait...wait for it... "Come!"  And I'm off to meet him and get my treat and then we run crazy circles and figure eights in the grass until he calls me back with another treat. This usually only lasts a few minutes, but it's fun. And I like walking up the extra block because on the way home, I trot along the busy street and people in cars stop and stare. I pretend not to notice, but it's kinda funny how people smile when they see me.

Here's a pic of me with one of those strange statues. See what I mean?

New smells, new morning parks, new great afternoon parks (another entry to come), new baristas at new coffee shops (another entry to come), and new places to play ball. Moving is a lot to figure out, but once you get it down, you feel pretty good. You feel like you accomplished something, and that right there, is a good reason to take a nap. So, my people, I nap! This is Trip and I'm out!

Holiday Lights

My first round of holidays were nice, but somewhat anti-climatic. I was moving and there was a bit too much to do to really get in the holiday spirit. Still, it was my first Christmas and dad said I needed to learn to love holiday lights.

So, I watched him put up holiday lights, and I watched while we drove through neighborhoods spotting other holiday lights. Blue ones are my favorite because I am a dog and dogs can see blue. I also like white ones because my dad says they're nice and they sparkle pretty. He uses more white ones than blue ones. He also has these things he calls "Fabulous Spheres of Light." I think it's a ball. It's round, looks yummy enough to eat, but instead he hangs out of reach and 'oohs' and 'ahhs' at it.

The real joy of holidays though is the smells. Food is around constantly. Good food in ridiculous quantities. No comments on the excesses of human nature from me, nope, not gonna complain. I mean, the smells are simply intoxicating. I don't beg, though, as it's just not cool. I do have a way of making my eyes look tired and sad, and I combine this expression with a sincere, if somewhat over-dramatic exhale – known as a sigh. This combination often works to get attention, but for the most part, doesn't yield results other than my normal treats.

The good shit came on XMAS. I didn't even know what XMAS was, but now I do and I'll save the comments about what a ridiculous notion Christmas is, and also I won't even comment about Christ's birthday being celebrated in December or any of that. The important thing is, I got hella treats and toys. They even wrapped some up in paper which I was able to destroy and they laughed! I mean, I'm a golden retriever – I love destroying paper! Honestly, it was as good as what was inside. If I had to pick the one thing I got that I loved the most, I'd have to say Christmas Dragon. It's a flying dragon toy with a Santa hat. How cool is that?

I decided, in the future, I will pay a lot more attention to the holidays. They seem like a good time, and I'm sure I'll get even more good shit next year. For now, this is Trip, and I'm out!

Fall & Football Season!

Fall is another season, and it brings yet another season hidden within it. I had no idea what was coming my way, but it's football season! And this means, I'm sleeping and suddenly everyone yells and scares the shit out of me! Hooting and hollering and I jump up in the middle of a dream thinking we are being attacked by a night monster and then everyone is jumping around me and I'm confused as all hell and people kiss my face and slap my butt as they slap each others hands and I have to wait until halftime or the game is over until I can pee and poop and play ball on my own. Football season is fun, but a bit disorienting if you fall asleep.

Go DAWGS! They yell this at me a lot. Go DAWGS! Ok, go Dawgs, I get it. I'm a dog and the team you like is called the Dawgs. Hilarious. Really.

Go HAWKS! They yell this, too, but not as much. And I'm not a hawk.

They also sometimes grab my stumpy and shake it at the TV and say, "Give 'em the stumpy magic!" I think it must be a good luck symbol for them, but I don't like people touching my stumpy. It's my stumpy. Back off. Football season or not. Back the f**k off my stumpy. Well, my dad can touch it, but he kisses it, too! And that's sort of gross. It feels funny, too.

Fall also means towels. I get wet, and so I have to get toweled off. It's a bit irritating.

Fall also means leaves, which are fun to chase all over. My dad says leave it. I say a leaf blowing in the wind is fair game. I just can't resist.

Below is a picture of me chasing leaves. But then the unexpected happened. I found something. It's a circle toy and it flies through the air really pretty. Too pretty not to chase. So I found it in the park, and then my dad took it and threw it. It was so amazing how it flew, I went and got it. The only problem, I just can't seem to pick it up without this happening!

I'm totally blind, but totally happy. Do you see the circle? That's my new toy. Do you see the leaves? That means it's Fall. Do you watch Football? I have to go take a nap now. A game is coming on, and I have to sleep until everyone yells at the TV and scares me wide awake! I think this is how the game is played. So, this is Trip and I'm out!

Summer

Summer is a whole 'nother ballgame, as they say. I don't know who says it, but I've heard it. It makes sense. Summer is lots of walks and beaches and coffee shops and parks and people, oh my!

But, it's really hard to find time to write in the summer when the weather is so nice! My dad is always taking me somewhere fun. Summer is also hot. I have discovered a few things about myself this summer, since it's my first summer. Here is a list of things I learned about summer:
1. I like shade. This is the most important lesson and informs everything else about summer. Since summer is hot, I have found shade to be a priceless commodity. And, I am good at finding shade. I will walk close to a building, or near a rail, just to get a little relief. If there is a large, blank sunny space in front of me, I will hurry as fast as I can to the next shade spot. My dad laughs and sometimes drops my leash. "He'll stop at the next shade spot."  And he's right. I will!
2. Since I have to hop on my one, big front leg, I work extra hard, which makes summer extra hot! Shade becomes even more necessary. I like it cool.
3. Since summer is hot, my dad gets iced lattes, and I get the ice! I love ice! Who knew? Ice from my dad's iced latte is so yummy. I once got a plain ice cube from someone, but it didn't have that soaked in milk and espresso yumminess I crave. I'll be out there wandering off, or deciding not to bring the ball back to my dad because it's fun to watch him get mad as I run circles around him (even with 3.5 legs I can run circles around my old man) – and then, he shakes his ice in the latte and it's like I've been hit by a tractor beam! I come running straight there. I'm addicted to iced latte ice.
4. It takes longer for it to cool down at night, and so I've been given a fan when it's oppressively hot. I think it's oppressively hot more often than those who give me the fan, though. I'd appreciate being able to decide when I need it. A fan is nice. It feels good. It is like my own private breeze, and I can roll over and expose my privates to it if I want. That also feels good.

So check out the pic of me here – I'm growing so fast! And, I'm stylish. My leash matches the car!

Anyhoo peeps! I've got places to go, and rest to get before I have to go entertain the masses in the hot August sun again. Sigh, it's hard work being me. This is Trip, and I'm out!

4th of July!

A parade! I went to a parade! You'd never believe it, but there I was, dressed in red, white and blue all ready for my first ever 4th of July Parade! There were firetrucks and kids on bikes and Uncle Sam on stilts and tractors, trailers and all sorts of weirdos dressed up! It was a real parade!

I should probably tell you, this is no ordinary parade. It's the Maxwelton 4th of July Parade, held on Whidbey Island (also known as Grandma's house because that's what they tell me when we get on the ferry boat - do you want to go to Grandma's house? So I sort of think of the whole damn island as belonging to my Grandma). Maxwelton is a small beach community where lots of farmers and summer island folks gather and families have generations of tradition marching in this parade. It's a really cute parade. Cute like me, cute.

Of course, with all the crazy attractions, I wondered if I'd be a star or be lost in the shuffle. It is decidedly so (just like the Magic 8-Ball says) – I am a bona fide star. I rocked that parade route like I was starting the parade. First, we drove almost all the way there. Then, we caught a shuttle bus and my dad carried me on and sat me in his lap. It was hot, but awesome. Then, the bus dropped us off at the start of the parade route and we saw the whole thing waiting to go. We got there just in time, so we headed down to meet some people, hell, I don't know who they were and I don't care, but... I basically led the parade. I hopped on my 3.5 down the middle of the road with people lining both sides of the street in lawn chairs all oohing and awwing at me. I looked side to side, but really, there were just so many I couldn't stop and say hi to them all.

Later, after the parade and after we took a walk on the beach and after another shuttle bus ride, we got back to Grandma's house. I was exhausted. In and out of sleep, I heard my dad worrying about me. Something about fireworks and would I freak out... I didn't really care, or have the energy to let him know not to worry. It was so damn hot and I was so damn tired, I just crashed. I crashed hard. The 4th of July at Maxwelton was pretty cool, but really tiring. I mean I was out like a log. Out hard. Like now – This is Trip and I'm out!

Art: I can dig it!

People are funny. They want to talk about art and all things artistic by dissecting it, pulling it apart, looking for hidden meaning, trying to understand the artist's "intent" and all sorts of nonsense. But for me – and yes, I realize I'm young and might not understand – I just dig it.

I dig it. Whatever it is, I'm going to dig it. I want to enjoy the experience, and just be with the art. I don't want to analyze it beyond enjoyment; I refuse to lose the pleasure of the moment of first experience.

And check it out, can you blame me? Here I am, just a few months old and my art cherry is getting popped on a sunny day at the SAM Sculpture Park. And like always, I rocked that park like an all-star. You see me? There I am, hanging in front of these giant metal curves and someone wants to attribute meaning to them? Go for it, but not me. I just sit, and dig it.

I sit. I stay. I dig it. Like my dad said. And so yeah, that's my experience with art!

This is Trip, and I'm out!

June

June. I'm not sure, but I think this is a good word. People around me are getting increasingly excited about this thing called Summer. It sounds nice, but I have no reference point so I'll just tell you about me and my fabulous little self.

I stayed in a bird house! Yep, no shit. I wouldn't lie to you. I stayed in a bird house. Well, they called it a bird house; it was right up the street from Grandma's house and it was swell. A nice private little space to go to bed in, and wake up in. One can sleep well in a bird house, no wonder birds wake up so early - they're well rested.

Things I've learned recently: Holiday weekend; Stay; Shake my stump; Second round of shots; Long walks, getting longer; Grandma.

Yep, I met Grandma...finally. She was resistant, and I'd heard rumors she was against my impending arrival, but she loves me! Oh how she loves me. And oh how she smells... just like a grandma should. Sigh.

That's me. This is Trip, and I'm out!

Time

Time flies. Yes it's a cliche, but back off, I'm not even 3 months old yet. I have a very compressed sense of time. And right now, it's flying! I am 11 and a half weeks old, and growing fast.

If you consider the arc of my story so far, the last two weeks of time is a good chunk. And I have stories. I got to go back to Whidbey Island and grandma's house for three days! I still haven't met her, as she was on some sort of boat for several weeks, which I think is crazy. I mean, the ferry ride to her house is twenty minutes - where the hell can you go on a boat for three weeks?

So I'm back on Whidbey, and I start running. I'm running. I run down the street. I run into a field. And as I run, I tell you, there are long stalks of grass that hang over and if you time it just right, you can jump and bite them as you fly past! This sort of thing only happens on Whidbey. I also met an Auntie and her dog. It's kind of a weird looking thing, to be honest, and a bit snippy. Hard to blame it, I suppose, here she is all-pomeranian and I come along, cute and puppy-like. Bound to be some hard feelings there. But Whidbey is dog-tastic.

Two words. The beach. Two words. Low tide. Two words. I raged. (See pictures)

Two unfortunate words. Bath tub. Or is that one word? Bathtub. Well then, two words. Baths suck. (See picture)

And in Ballard, I have adventures. My walks are getting longer, and I can go up the street and run through various lawns. I think it's because I showed dad I can run so well on Whidbey, but he's a bit paranoid as I have yet to get my second round of shots. No one wants a sick puppy, so until then, I think I have limited options.

I learned a new word in Ballard, too. Barista. Those people go wild for me! On good days, dad takes me in the car with him and I run up to the coffee shop and get oohed and awed and cuddled and oggled. After that, he takes me to Sunset Park and I rock the lawn while people passing by all stop to say hi. You'd think I was a celebrity or something.

Today, I got hosed. Instead of the coffee shop and Sunset Park, it was a pet store. I love that place, but I wanted to do the coffee shop and park as well. Dad said, "You've had enough adventure for the day, so you stay." Whatever dude, like there's enough adventure. At the pet store, there is a wonderful woman named Leigh - she is like the guardian angel of all things puppy, and she is very good at her job. While I was crashed in her arms, just in awe of her presence, I didn't even notice her tell some guy to give me a pedicure. Pedicure, yeah right. They just clip your nails, but when you only got 3 paws, it's only 75% bad! Still, I got hosed. A pedicure and no park.

I began with a cliche, so I'll end with one. It's a dark and stormy night, and I just did my night-night pee so guess what? This is Trip and I'm out!