Welcome to my blog Upstate Girl, (a.k.a Follow Your Bliss Part II), I am an independently published author. This blog is all about writing and the stuff that inspires me to write, the joys and obstacles that come along with the writer's life, and my fascination with the psychology of people and what makes them tick...the human condition, as is...and my love for words, playing with them and making sense of them...and I throw in a few photos from my acre of the world just to make things pretty...sometimes there are things I have no words for, only pictures will do.

*Copyright notice* All photos, writing, and artwork are mine (
© Laura J. Wellner), unless otherwise noted, please be a peach, if you'd like to use my work for a project or you just love it and must have it, message me and we'll work out the details...it's simple...JUST ASK, please.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

What stories a dog's nose could tell...

Can you just imagine what this little guy is finding out while sniffing? Oh, what stories this dog's nose tells!


Tip of nose to tip of wagging tail, he reads a busy cast of characters!

Listen, squirrels, chipmunks...bunnies (oh, especially the bunnies, he loves the bunnies best of all)...

Deer...mice and birds...

And yes, coyotes, we heard them last night, made his ruffle stand on end, and of course, there's those other half dog-half coyotes...those are the bad ones who cause lots of trouble because they are very bold...no worries, they're not here now...(just so you know, the pictures that I didn't take of my dog was of him marking every tree, twig, leaf, and blade of grass because of the coy-dogs and coyotes that have passed through our yard leaving their calling cards!)


Max is the Best of Good Boys! (Darn it, he won't look at the camera!) My handsome boy-dog...the little black face is getting grayer...just turned eleven years old...not old yet...still a pup, right?

Today I thought about one of my favorite passages in The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje, it is about a dog's paw...yes, far from the dog's nose, but not that far, and still very much part of the beauty of a dog...and the stories they can tell...

Her father had taught her about hands. About a dog's paws. Whenever her father was alone with a dog in a house he would lean over and smell the skin at the base of its paw. This, he would say, as if coming away from a brandy snifter, is the greatest smell in the world! A bouquet! Great rumors of travel! She would pretend disgust, but the dog's paw was a wonder: the smell of it never suggested dirt. It's a cathedral! her father had said, so-and-so's garden, that field of grasses, a walk through cyclamen - a concentration of hints of all the paths the animal had taken during the day.

And so...yes, it's been a difficult week, we buried my Fred's father on Monday, and the family from out of town left, and we've moved on to the latest version of normal...we draw close, talk more, cry now and then, wait and watch, we think too much about our inevitable...which one of us will be the one left alone? We wonder, can't help but wonder...but we mustn't dwell on it...we must move on, go forward, and live life to its fullest...and always love one another especially more now than ever...we have a beautiful life together...we shall savor every day.

5 comments:

Gwen Buchanan said...

Your handsome boy-dog Max would be a perfect match for our she-dog Tabitha... they almost look like brother and sister... and she is the most intelligent, inquisitive dog too... what a pair they would make...

love your examination...

Anonymous said...

N'est-que pas que la solitude elle-mème eveille quelque attente fébrile? Voici l'entrée, vide, discrètetement illuminée comme une musée nocturne – la terasse, avec ses torchères ondoyantes par un soir d'Avent étrangement doux – laissant le vestibule et les murmures de voix – la chambre immaculée immaculée et la musique de danse derrière le mur – et le bar à cocktails mondains – le bassin où le nageur s'entrâine, longeur après longeur, il en n'a jamais assez, il doit y mettre de sien – enfin, tournant vers le haut au coin du sombre couloir vient la fille noire et pâle, altière, déterminée et de style épuré, ainsi qu'un moderne avion de chasse suédois.

Poétudes

SONNET XXXIX FOR KATIE

I went downtown, saw Katie in the nude
on Common Avenue, detracted soltitude
as it were, like a dream-state rosely hued,
like no one else could see her; DAMN! I phewed;

was reciprokelly then, thank heaven, viewed,
bestowed unique hard-on! but NOT eschewed,
contrair-ee-lee, she took a somewhat rude
'n readidy attude of Sex Prelude; it BREWED!

And for a start, i hiccuped "Hi!", imbued
with Moooood! She toodledooed: "How queued
your awe-full specie-ally-tee, Sir Lewd,
to prove (alas!), to have me finely screwed,

and hopef'lly afterwards beloved, wooed,
alive, huh? Don't you even DO it, Duu-uuude!"

My English Poetry Blog

More...

Chica de Léon, en tus ojos marchan las requétés,
no ya están demasiado ejercitados a justo esto...
- Puedes que nos hayáis metido no muy buena acompañía?
- Mi obrero, quien ha hecho un jornada excelente

relata sobre las aventuras fatales de su abuelo
y sus compinches cuyo piedad estaba levemente católico;
hicieron sopa de clavos, sangre de clero y corpus christi,
se unió despuéz a la hez de Colunna Durruti. Tu ries!

no sobremanera respetuosa de las aberraciones republicanas,
según parece no tampoco del todo indiferente a vino y flamenco...
- Está un noche amigable entre otros en algun sitio,
en alguno de nos cada vez más remotos jardines Espanolas.

My spanish poetry blog

More...

Consider Sex and time, procreation, reincarnation. Trigonometry! I envisage the time axis as the repetitive tangens function. Do you see what I mean? What can be tentatively derived from this notion? Clue: orgasm AND birth pangs at tan 0.

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- Peter Ingestad, Sweden

Holly Dean Artist said...

I have a handsome boy-dog Sneak who looks so much like your boy-dog Max. Like Max he is The Best of Good Boys! We always wondered what breeds Sneak is made up of...do you know Max's background? We got Sneak at the local Humane Society and we know we will never find a dog that will give us such joy again. Thanks for the beautiful excerpt on dogs too...

Pat said...

Boy dogs are the best. I always explain it to myself as polarity. Maybe, maybe not. And eleven is still a puppy. don't tel Frida I said that because she is such a love.
When the life wheel turns to the next spot on the wheel, it is always uncomfortable. You twist and turn, until a comfortable position is found. Keep close to your Fred and it all will be easier.

Caterina Giglio said...

savor every day.... yes.