Don't Let Me Down

T.B. shrouds me, like this pear is shrouded and given dignity... Our friend, Tom Miller, painted that pear. He painted me too (see April 1, 2008).

I feel good until I have to move forward or go downstairs, but I fake it because T.B. cries whenever she thinks I'm in pain and that hurts more than moving forward. I'm pretty dreamy on Tramadol, and still hungry. I like going for drives and having the wind blow in my face while I'm snuggled in my bed in the car. Walking is hard though. My difficulty walking is harder on T.B. I swear. It makes her so sad; while it only makes me sore. I think sore is less sorrowful than sad, but I can't be sure since I can't cry. I don't really understand what she is afraid of when I won't be here anymore. She has to learn to let go and stop being so sad. Alone can't be that bad, can it? I know she'll never love like this again, but that should make her happy, then she won't ever have to be this sad ever again ....

Mingus, the problem-solver

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Stalled

Sometimes you just reach a dead end--no pun intended. Take this picture of me stalled at a log. Once I arrived at the log I had to make it look like I was mighty interested in the news that had been left there, by a bunch of poodles I think, but in fact I just couldn't determine the best way to turn around and get back to T.B. and the car and the safety of home.

T.B. says many relationships are like this and I'm fortunate it was a log stall and not an entrapment stall like humans have in their interpersonal relationships. Sometimes the things T.B. says are even more meaningless to me than others. We can still look lovingly into each other's eyes however and mean it.

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Headstand Mingus

I may not be running up and down the stairs, but with a certain camera angle I can do a head stand. This should avert any immediate talk of murdering me because I'm mobility-challenged. I'm not mobility-challenged lying down--T.B. appreciates this attribute in LESSER beings than I!

(She wouldn't want to go out to pee in the pouring rain either, but I don't threaten to have her murdered for it!)

Mingus, the great

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Arsenica--Root Word "Arsenic"

So I realized around 6:30 that she's friggin serious about offing me cause of my feet. Here is a picture of her giving me one of the crazy concoctions my Homeopath prescribed: Arsenica. I note that the root word is "arsenic". Anyway, I decided I'd better start getting my sorry ass, I mean sore paws, up and down those stairs and stop playing up the free ride down or else I might end up killing both of us in a big fall down the stairs.... hey wait a minute... there's a good solution....

Mingus, the schemer

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

I Need A Stay of Execution

I only weigh 75 pounds--how tough can it be on her to carry me down a couple of flights of stairs and to the grass when it's raining? Look at all I've done for her for the past 14 years and five months? She says she can have me executed because my feet are sore. She says "it's the best thing"... for who? is what I want to know? For you is it the best thing? It's not the best thing for me. What if I end up all alone out there dead? I'll be scared and I can't hear and I can't walk very well as you know.... We need to think about this execution idea a little harder, Bitch...

Mingus, seeking mercy

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

I Can Still Make A Tail Rise

I may be ancient and my feet may not work so well, BUT I CAN STILL DRAW A CROWD AND MAKE A TAIL RISE!!!

Mingus, the man

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Gawd, I Really Am A Chick Magnet

She made a pretty good crutch too! My sex-appeal is ALARMING!

Mingus

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

The Mingus Taste Taste

Mingus my Love, your scent has softened since we were first friends. My owner talks about "noble rot" around this time of the wine season. I thought you'd think that combination of words was both alarming and funny. You'll always be noble to me, and smell like the grass with a hint of liver brownie and a hint of dried ooligan and fresh ginger and is that a little lime leaf on your lips? Oh, lemongrass, sorry. ....

Mingus, too stiff to run away from his fans

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Chase Amalgamating

This is my gorgeous brother-- now dead-- Chase, asleep on Auntie Barb's wicker seat in her kitchen on Salt Spring Island. Chase needed his sleep to digest his worldly interactions. Was he not the most endearing yellow/peach Labrador Retriever you've ever seen? I loved when he put his soft muzzle on mine when we snuggled. I miss you Chase and still love you Bro!!! I'm here looking after T.B..

Love Mingus

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

The Futility of Wishing

That's me (on the verge of "excited") and my mentor, Buddy, eons ago. Have you noticed how wishing you were young again, or wishing that your dead dog friends weren't dead, is pretty much a useless exercise??? What's the point of so many pictures then? If all they do is remind you of times that aren't now, and times that aren't ever going to be again, and if you can't eat the pictures, well they are pretty much as pointless as this blog then aren't they????

Mingus, the sage

OH, T.B. says, "It's all about the economy, Stupid! "

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Family Swim

When I was a youngin this is how I spent my summers--swimming with my brother, Chase, my cousin, Woody (who swam in circles with his head two feet above the water like a spazzzzzz), and with my grandmother's sister, Icy, who was a cool old chick with a ton of attitude (not unlike T.B.). I wonder if they all go swimming without me wherever they are????

Mingus reminiscing

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Hotter Than Hades Here In Paradise

This fan, and the other three fans directed at me, are my best friends. Please do not give me any human "fans". I'm tortured enough! T.B. is also torturing me by watching Olympians swimming.... in refreshingly cool waters I presume... who cares if they are under psychological pressure! She says I'm torturing her by making her a prisoner to my longevity. We've reached a sweaty detente on that one--only I can't sweat, only pant. I've just ordered some more chilled chicken stock with turkey heart slivers from room service. T.B. has ordered more chilled Pinot Grigio and an antipasto plate. Beautiful men on television, what more does she want?

Mingus, the heated

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Yeah But Mickey Wasn't A Real Mouse

So the morning starts out fine, with room service, poached eggs, organic Yukon Gold mashers, BACK BACON!! and a chaser of chicken stock and all my vitamins and drugs ... and then she springs it on me. I have an International following!

Humans in Malaysia, in Japan, in the UK, Sweden and Mexico and in several U.S. states including California, Illinois, Arizona, Texas, Michigan, New York, and even Kentucky, and right across Canada are reading my blog. T.B. is branding me--no not with a cattle iron--far more painful than the one-shot searing of flesh... branding me as a commodity! Selling my soul and all the secrets we share and THAT I THOUGHT WERE ONLY OURS! She wouldn't do this to her lovers (or would she?)! She thinks that just because I'm a dog she can make me into a commodity! It's outrageous! I need a lawyer never mind a Vet. What next? Book-signings? I can't spell, and now that my paws are all crippled up I can' t make paw prints too effectively either.

Mingus,

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Poor Usage

Why should I be concerned with mastering English? The language is being corrupted and misused even by the English.

For instance, T.B. just read some advertising copy about sheets and is busting a gut. SHEETS CANNOT BE SENSUAL! Of course if the sheets are an animate character in a Tom Robbins' novel, that's a different deal. YOU HAVE TO BE CAPABLE OF FEELING TO BE SENSUAL. THE PEOPLE OR ANIMALS ON TOP OF THE SHEETS, ROLLING AROUND ON THE SHEETS, MESSING UP THE SHEETS, MAY OR MAY NOT BE SENSUAL, BUT THE SHEETS ARE NOT SENSUAL. SHEESH!!!

Back to my own malapropisms.

Mingus

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

The Key To Life

So Bro this is what it comes down to. You have to eat, drink, pee and poo and be able to go up and down stairs and walk without panting loudly.... otherwise, it's curtains, the big last call to Dr. Kevorkian and you come back in an urn as a pile of ashes that never get cuddles, walked, handfed breakfast in bed... it's dire!

What goes in has to come out. Which brings me to where do all T.B.'s tears come from? I've never seen her drink tears.... mind you I drink water and chicken stock and that comes out as pee, so maybe tears start out as San Pellegrino or Pinot Grigio or Cabernet Sauvignon or tea or coffee and then turn into tears. I'd like to understand this crying thing before I die. Why don't we cry?

Mingus, the continually perplexed

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

To Pee or Not To Pee

Bitch, don’t cry. I still have the ocean in me though I can no longer swim in, nor against it, nor protect you from its undertow or its delicious froth, and lulling rhythms.

Please stop crying. I can't decide whether to live or die while you're crying so much. It doesn't hurt as much as you think it does or else it would have killed me by now. Your sadness watching me wane is harsher than the pain I'm in.

Death is slow in my case, and I'm reluctant. It's true I don't want to leave you. You have me "Sherpa High" as the Tragically Hip say, and I'm working towards dying without your having to make the terrible decision, but I'm not rushing it. I love being here and loved. Bitch, I'll make it perfectly clear when I don't want to be here. You'll know. I trust you. In the meantime, sure, read the Bard:

“ To be, or not to be, that is the Question:
Whether 'tis Nobler in the minde to suffer
The Slings and Arrowes of outragious Fortune,
Or to take Armes against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them: to dye, to sleepe
No more; and by a sleepe, to say we end
The Heart-ake, and the thousand Naturall shockes
That Flesh is heyre too? 'Tis a consummation
Deuoutly to be wish'd. To dye to sleepe,
To sleepe, perchance to Dreame; I, there's the rub,
For in that sleepe of death, what dreames may come,
When we haue shuffel'd off this mortall coile,
Must giue vs pawse. There's the respect
That makes Calamity of so long life:
For who would beare the Whips and Scornes of time,
The Oppressors wrong, the poore mans Contumely,
The pangs of dispriz'd Loue, the Lawes delay,
The insolence of Office, and the Spurnes
That patient merit of the vnworthy takes,
When he himselfe might his Quietus make
With a bare Bodkin? Who would Fardles beare
To grunt and sweat vnder a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The vndiscouered Countrey, from whose Borne
No Traueller returnes, Puzels the will,
And makes vs rather beare those illes we haue,
Then flye to others that we know not of.
Thus Conscience does make Cowards of vs all,
And thus the Natiue hew of Resolution
Is sicklied o're, with the pale cast of Thought,
And enterprizes of great pith and moment,
With this regard their Currants turne away,
And loose the name of Action.

Shakespeare, "Hamlet"

Mingus

"L"

I'm going to talk before I die. I'm sure I can say, even if I can't spell, a bunch of words that either begin with "L" or have "L"s in them.
Liver
Letters
Loons
Lips
Offal
Loser
I Love T.B.

Lalala

Limping....

Elocution....

Mingus, the literate

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

The Bitch And Epicurus

Here is some of the English language I've mastered... the philosophy of Epicurus...

"Epicurus believed that the greatest good was to seek modest pleasures in order to attain a state of tranquility and freedom from fear (ataraxia) as well as absence of bodily pain (aponia) through knowledge of the workings of the world and the limits of our desires. The combination of these two states is supposed to constitute happiness in its highest form. Although Epicureanism is a form of hedonism, insofar as it declares pleasure as the sole intrinsic good, its conception of absence of pain as the greatest pleasure and its advocacy of a simple life make it quite different from "hedonism" as it is commonly understood" [source: Wikipedia]

Suffice to say that there is a fine art to eating the lamb liver porridge, the parsley, the ricotta, and leaving the blueberries in the bowl!

Mingus, the devout

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Ageism

That looks like fun swimming out there with your pack. Me and my pack spent hours swimming like that, all over the West Coast, in lakes and in the Pacific Ocean from here all the way to Southern California. You can't swim when you're dead, but neither can you swim when your paws are too sore to walk on the rocks to get into the water. If T.B. was a decent human being she'd have an indoor heated un-chlorinated pool for us to swim in.



It's like I'm invisible to the other dogs at the park now that I'm ancient and can't run with them all over the place. Even the sheared poodle with the ridiculous pompom left on its crown gets more attention than me...



Mingus pouting

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Tears In Heaven

Yes, there are chefs in heaven who have earned their four Dog ratings.



Yes, Lassie and Rintintin are both dead. You'll have no reason to be embarrassed about being dead, Minguslove.


Of course I'll keep writing about you and talking to you and loving you, even once you're dead and yes, you can still pretend to be sleeping in the curve of my legs with your so, so, so soft muzzle on my shins Sweetlove.


I don't know about liver brownie dealers in heaven. If there are liver brownie dealers in heaven your brother, Chase, will have an account open with them no doubt. No, you can't bill my credit card.

Yes, I promise I'll only play Joshua Redman's version of "Tears In Heaven" because Eric Clampton's version is too sad and I'll die from sadness and you won't be able to save me from drowning in my own tears, I know ....

You're not dead yet big boy, but you can keep telling me all your fears anyway.

The Bitch

http://www.last.fm/music/Joshua+Redman/_/Tears+in+Heaven?autostart

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Soup For Mingus

You take fresh chicken stock with herbs fines (and use chickens that had a life and organic feed, not those creatures tortured from the minute they were hatched, to make the chicken stock) and cook a mixed dice of carrots, beans, broccoli and whatever other veggies you like in the chicken stock until tender, then add a couple pounds of organic chicken livers to the broth and poach the livers. Cool this mixture to room temperature, then ladel the soup into your bowl as desired. I like a dollop of fresh ricotta in the middle. Get your bitch to do all this for you since standing on your hind legs and controlling the French (or German in our case) knife is hard on the paws and this all takes time that would be better spent sleeping on the couch.

Chef Mingus

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Full Marks At The Sleeping Olympics

I'm having my own Olympics... The Sleeping Olympics, but they are only televised in mine and T.B.'s brains....

Ming-the-thing

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

It Doesn't Roll The Other Way

I told you, I can't make it curl the other way and whistle! You'll have to learn to come to me without the whistle part!

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Me and Auntie V

In general, and in sympathy, Auntie V. and I just see things in the same way... and we like the same cheeses, and she recognizes how distinguished a being I am... like her....

Mingus, the picnic guy

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Afternoon Arrangements

Can't you see, my bitch doesn't let me out of her sight or off this lead--why do you think I have such a wrinkled old face? No, I can't e-mail you my phone number. You'll have to memorize it. There's a slight chance that I could meet you in my back lane for an hour or so tomorrow. DON'T SAY ANYTHING TO MY BITCH. Pretend we're sniffing noses, she's stopped talking to your owner now. .... Look, I don't screw around anymore than her husband or her lover and definitely less than her teenage son. If she didn't act like Gestapo we'd all be less inclined to sneak around on her. I don't want a lecture Mingus ... let's just forget it... I like the stud you introduced me to last time better than you anyway .... dumb and trusting and has whiter teeth and fewer opinions on anything ..... and his owner doesn't blog everything that goes on in his life!

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Mingus In the Opium Den

T.B. did read a lot of Henry Miller and Anais Nin at one time.... she parked me in this double high, double soft bed in the kitchen tonight after our walk in the park and got me stoned and tuned me into David Bowie singing "Wild Is The Wind".... and Mick singing "Angie"and "Love In Vain".

She's listening to Sony Rollins and Keith Jarrett... high brow!

Soon she'll carry me up the 450 stairs to bed like a good bitch....

night, night.... Ming
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9s8fq9jrX7o

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

B.C. Day and Gay Pride Day

It is a holiday weekend celebrating "Be Cool" and "Be Gay". I dig--well not anymore cause digging hurts my shoulders and my paws.

The rent boys, drags, dykes, tops, bottoms, switchies, twitchies, leather boyz, scary biatches, and families of the same take it to the streets. The diggwgt (dual income gay guys with great taste) seem to stay away mostly it appears.... they don't go to Santa Claus parade either.

This is my fave bottom of late, he follows orders without pause or hitch.

I don't know the little guy pictured below who took to me so readily.... I haven't seen him since either... didn't even get his name or his license number.... that's all for today from the New Amsterdam for Dogs... I'm off to the opium den now.... Love, Mingus


copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

You Are Totally Ripped Pops

Pops, you're totally delusional... you are not a billionaire and you cannot buy this park for T.B. and build her a modern seaside 3000 square foot house with this view tribute to your love... YOU'RE JUST AN OLD DOG.... You could probably make good coin peddling the drugs you're on though... maybe you should look into that....

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Guy's Guy

Occasionally, I armchair travel with T.B. looking at pathetic pictures of claiming to be "available" guys looking for longterm commitment. (I won't get into a diatribe on the "C" words: cancer and commitment). Anyway, a lot of these guys post pictures of themselves with their car. I haven't broken the code on that one yet. I think it is evidence that they can find their way home when T.B. turfs them... I dunno....

Being one who likes to try to fit in on occasion, here I am with my car....

T.B. prefers surfing the gay availability sites when it comes to armchair travel. On those sites the guys are cut and often naked and the interior design in the background is usually better.....

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Maybe Only My Rearend Could Die.....

I have a solution... I'm going to leave my head and belly alive so that T.B. can still cook for me and I can still eat all this delicious food YUMMY CHICKEN CONSOMME WITH CHICKEN LIVER DUMPLINGS ....

and, then the food won't have any place to turn into poop either....

Mingus, the inventive

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Matching Accessories

T.B. asked to borrow my collar cause it matches her hippy sandals. I said only if she finds a cure for my imminent death, but then I realized that didn't really make any sense since my imminent death means she'll have all my collars, leashes, fur throws, dog beds, dishes, pals, all to herself .... But she won't care because she'll be so dying of sadness that she won't ever leave the apartment again, or even wear accessories, or shoes, or care if she sleeps with a blanket or not.

Mingus, the saddest Sweetlove

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

That Tree Is Older Than Me

T.B. drove me to the Dog Park at Spanish Banks this afternoon, but I didn't feel like getting out of the car and limping around with all the weekenders--touristas, so we snuggled up with the hatch open and then she took me to the quiet-no-one-ever-goes-there-dog park where I communed with this old tree.

I look too young to be so ancient. I don't see why I can't live for as long as T.B., or this tree. That just isn't fair to either T.B. or to me. No one will ever be able to look after her and love her like me and never let her out of their sight... especially not some dumb totally self-interested guy.

Mingus

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Loss of Dignity and My Friends

It turns out that you can't eat only liver brownies in a day and not pay the consequences. T.B. came home after a couple of hours away and found me not my usual sophisticated, cocktails and kisses ready for you self but sort of sadly stranded in nature's revenge for over-eating liver brownies with a failing bowel. I must have looked pretty pathetic cause she pretty much collapsed and sponge bathed me on the spot and cleaned up the rest of the mess once I was clean and comfortable in my bed and drugged up. That was a lot of laundry! It reminded me of what it was like before Chase went in the elevator, but then I was helping T.B. to look after him, not participating in the mess....

My little buddy at the dog park today said I'm still intact, gorgeous, smell great and am so wise.

We had our little nose to nose, tete a tete, heart to heart connection too. It's good to feel loved.


Mingus, the charitable and kind

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch