• Category Archives Dogs

  • Suffering. Shadow. Shame.

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

    Thursday gratefuls: Natalie. Diane. Ruth. Seoah. My son. Korea. Morning darkness. Radical Roots of Religion. Art Green. The One. Ritual. Prayer. The Morning Service. Shadow, shredder of Kleenex. Outside work with her. My back yard. The Bearberry. The Clump Grass. That leaning Lodgepole. The Lilacs in Kate’s garden. Nathan coming today to look at the foundation he wants to make for the greenhouse. For Halle and all the traveling physical therapists.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Greenhouse

    Week Kavannah: Zerizut. Enthusiasm. For working out, for physical therapy.

    One brief shining: Worked for two hours yesterday with Natalie and Shadow and Cooper, her 6 month old English Cream Lab, wandering the yard, dropping treats behind me, letting Shadow come in front of me, then turning and walking away, waiting for her to follow, Cooper bounding in his slow sure way next to Natalie, more, as she said, a people dog than a dog dog.

     

    Scott Adams, creator of Dilbert, in the NYT: “My life expectancy is maybe this summer,” he said. “I don’t have good days,” he said. “Every day is a nightmare. And evening is even worse.” NYT

    This in an article revealing he had, at 67, an aggressive form of prostate cancer. Oh, boy. His words scared me, especially as I hobble around in the early morning before my back and hip begin to loosen up.

    Then, I go back to my own journey, now in its eleventh year. Not aggressive. Slow growing. Still hormone resistant. Could be worse, a lot worse.

    My heart sinks for Adams and for Biden. Fellow travelers on this ancientrail nobody wants to follow. Cancer, as I told Kathy, a stage 4 breast cancer survivor, is a humbug.

    In our small mussar group we have multiple myeloma, breast cancer, a blood cancer, prostate cancer. Leslie, a former member died of liver cancer and Judy, my friend from MVP, of ovarian cancer.

    No wise words here. Just an observation that suffering and angst pervade the human story, are not rare. Common. Which could serve as a reminder to be kind.

     

    Dog journal: The two hour session with Natalie wore us both out. Shadow went to bed around 5, two hours early. I had to remind her to go outside before bedtime. We walked a lot. My own fatigue caused me to message Natalie and say no more two hour sessions.

    And yet. I can feel a change. As we let up on the obedience and began to work on building trust. Responding to subtle clues I had missed. Waiting for Shadow’s consent before touching her. Watching if her weight is on her hind legs or her front legs. Is she leaning in or preparing to exit?

     

    Just a moment: Seems like our golden shower boy wants to relive his gory days on The Apprentice by saying the political equivalent of, “You’re fired!” to heads of state. First, Zelensky in a shameful moment in U.S. history. Yes, pretty bad. Then exploiting the situation to get rare minerals.

    Now, in a beyond shameful clash with the President of South Africa, declaring white Afrikaners, the architects of apartheid, subject to genocide. This is not even a dog whistle to the white supremacists in his base. It’s a y’all come on, we got this now.

     


    Dogs Feelings Fourth Phase Health Politics

  • Halle and Shadow

    Posted on by Charles 1 Comment

    Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

    Wednesday gratefuls: Natalie. Halle. Physical therapy. Back and leg pain. Natalie’s husband. Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Art Green. Cool night. Good sleeping. New exercises. Our spinning Planet. Great Sol revealed again. From the east. His light on the Lodgepoles. Grass green. Aspen Catkins yellow against blue Sky. Lodgepole Anthers. Fawns and Calves and Kits and Cubs. Spring in the Rockies.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadow

    Week Kavannah: Zerizut. Enthusiasm. For working out, doing p.t.

    One brief shining: Sitting down on the mobile table, talking with Halle, a bit later face down with her massaging my lower back, after that dropping my knees to the side, controlled, does it hurt, oh yes, but not too bad. See you next week.

     

    Back pain: Halle from Madisonville, Kentucky. What brought you to Colorado, Halle? Oh, didn’t I tell you last time? I’m a traveling physical therapist, like a traveling nurse.

    She goes for a year or so, or longer, then picks up and moves. Last year she was in Albuquerque.

    What a great way to see the country, new places. She imagines she’ll end up back in Kentucky, but, she says, she could do this her whole life if she wanted.

    Halle has a great table side manner. Encouraging. Thoughtful. Challenging. I like her.

     

    Dog journal: Natalie of Friends for Life. Came by to assess Shadow for her two week training program. Older than Amy, maybe 50. Lavender tinted hair. Amethyst earrings. Purple t-shirt. Deep dog knowledge, especially of fearful dogs.

    Her husband, a retired long haul truck driver, had a stroke last year. Is in a long recovery. We talked about caregiving and care giver fatigue.

    We also talked about having a buffer dog for Shadow, a dog who could take some of my attention off her, ease the pressure on both of us. A good idea. Not sure I’m up for two dogs though.

    We also talked about Shadow as a fearful, shy dog. How to tell if she’s ready for interaction.

    Natalie suggested a game of follow me. I put a treat down. When Shadow comes to get it, I turn and walk away. She follows, comes around the front. I drop a treat in back, then turn and walk away. Repeat. Repeat. This leaves her in control.

    Also, I’m to feed Shadow by hand, about half of her meal. All about building trust. Natalie’s not big on obedience training. As I am not. What we both want is a relationship of trust and affection with our dogs. That’s how Kate and I always lived with our dogs.

    The big difference with Shadow is her fearfulness, her trauma. And, her age. Natalie will teach us how to gently enter each other’s lives. I’m confident with Natalie’s help we can get to a mature relationship in time. A relief.

    Natalie’s coming back today. A blitz for a couple of weeks, then weekly sessions.

     

    Just a moment: “In a White House meeting, the U.S. president is expected to point to alleged discrimination against white South Africans, a week after welcoming a group of them as refugees.” NYT article, 5/21/25

    Oh. My. God.


    Dogs Health Politics US History

  • A Family and Friends Friday

    Posted on by Charles 2 Comments

    Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

    Shabbat gratefuls: Mary. A regular visitor. Spice Fusion. Tandoori Chicken and Shrimp. Lyft. Airplanes. Trains. Transportation. Shadow, the shy. The gnawer of beds. Licker of heads. Birds crying in the dawn. That Raven I saw hopping up and down. Maxwell Creek running full.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mary, a permanent resident of Australia

    Week Kavannah: Enthusiasm. Zerizut.

    One brief shining: Mary opened the bag of take-out from Spice Fusion, the new Indian restaurant nearby, started pulling out boxes and plastic containers, and a large piece of garlic naan wrapped in enough tin foil to decorate a Christmas tree, a feast of good food with my sister. Rare.

     

    Had breakfast with Alan and Joanne. Dandelion. Always a stimulating conversation with those two. Joanne and I have an organ recital, laughing and wincing as us old folks do. Knowing the pain in the other and knowing also that the pain, while unwelcome, does not overcome life, nor the living of it. A part of the landscape for many of us over seventy and for most over eighty.

    We have stories. Told over eggs and breakfast tacos, coffee, and a blueberry scone. Of waitressing near Shiprock, Arizona. Of cutting Munsingwear underwear cutouts into smaller pieces to make ragbond paper. Or firing up the popcorn aroma machine at KMart.

    You know, friends sharing more of their story, becoming in that way part of each other’s story. Knowing each other by the breadcrumbs we drop to help others find their way in the thick forest of our memories.

    Then over to Rich’s office to deliver gifts from Ingebretsen’s, the Scandinavian gift shop in Minneapolis. A little lefse, some chocolate, some Lingonberry jam, Hackberry jam, and strings of small colorful birds. Thank you to them for finally seeing the money into my 529 account for Ruth.

    Where btw, I saw Kippur, the dog Rich and his law partner share. The last time I saw Kippur, he was a puppy who jumped up on the couch and snuggled with me like I was his long last Dad. He’s all grown up, but still that same sweet boy. What a delight to see him.

     

    Mary came. By plane, then train, then Lyft. Traveling light. So good to see her.

    We shared the second floor of 419 N. Canal for several years. Alexandria, Indiana. A small town where everybody knew your name. Much diminished from its heyday in the late 50’s and 60’s, it remains of course the reservoir of our childhoods. I’ve not been there since well before Covid.

    She and Guru will fly to Korea for my son’s ceremonial promotion to commander. Ruth will already be there, having made her first international flight tomorrow morning. Missing will be me. Hobbled still by this damn back.

    I so want to be there. To say, That’s my boy! To hug his uniformed, medaled, and beribboned person. I know he knows I would be there if I could.

    He and Seoah sent me a picture of Murdoch with his second place Dog show trophy. All three of them looked excited.


    Aging Dogs Family Fourth Phase Friends

  • Don’t think she’s trying to kill me

    Posted on by Charles 2 Comments

    Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

    Thursday gratefuls: Amy. Natalie. Shadow. Lifeguard Alert. Cool night. Shadow inside. Good sleeping. Great Sol. Lifted above Shadow Mountain by Mother Earth. Nathan Stewart. Greenhouse construction starts next week. Jackie and Ronda. Radical Roots of Religion Class. New Human Consciousness Class. Adam and Eve, their story expanded and changed. Paul and Sarah. Tom’s bookmarks. How did he know?

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Friends, friendship

    One brief shining: A phone call from the Golden Police Department at 6:20 am this morning got my attention, but I thought I knew its source; sure enough, “We got a call from Lifeguard Alert.”; yes, indeed, I was right as I held in my hand at that moment the mangled fob for my Lifealert necklace and button. Who knows what Lifealert dangles in the mouth of a puppy? I do.

     

    Dog journal: I don’t think she’s trying to kill me. Pretty sure. But I did knock my Lifealert fob off the nightstand while reaching for my hearing aid. Went back to sleep, got up only to find the fob gone. Looked under the bed. Yep. There it was. Had to get down on my stomach to reach in far enough. Upon pulling it out I saw the toothmarks, the plastic peeling away from the fob’s back. Shadow doesn’t know this is my lifeline does she? No.

    Then a phone call my phone thought was spam followed by that call from the Golden Police Department. No, I had to say. I’m ok. My puppy chewed up my alarm button. What a nice way to greet the day. Shadow.

    Amy came yesterday and we made some good progress with the leash. If Natalie can’t board Shadow, I’ll continue with Amy. Shadow’s too woven into my life. Her story and mine will be told together. Even the frustration and problems are good for this old man. Keeps me engaged with the world as it is and rewards me with furry hugs and head kisses.

     

    Jackie and Ronda. Went into Aspen Park. Get my ears lifted. I go every three weeks. Partly to look good. More to see Jackie and Ronda who like to kid me and have fun. I appreciate them as friends, as a pair of women with an independent and edgy view of life and love.

    Jackie loved Kate. When I get too edgy back to her, she reminds me: This is what Kate would do. And holds up both hands with their middle fingers extended. Yes, indeed. That’s exactly what Kate would do. And Kate’s independent spirit fills the room for a minute. Even from those last few visits to Jackie’s in her wheelchair.

    Life in a place where people know my name.

     

    Just a moment: On a positive weather note. Seems we’ll have the monsoons in July and August. That means the high fire season this year should only be the month of June, as it used to be before climate change screwed everything up.


    Dogs Friends Weather +Climate

  • Which is better?

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

    Wednesday gratefuls: Natalie. Friends Forever. Coming Friday. Hello, darkness, my old friend. Bird song. Shadow outside. Select Physical Therapy. Halley. Amy, today. Radical Roots of Religion. Exercising.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Natalie

    Week Kavannah: Enthusiasm. Zerizut.

    One brief shining: Bird song speaks to the dawn as it comes to Shadow Mountain, a coolness remains from the night, and I sit here, hitting the keys on my laptop.

     

    chatgpt portrait from a Shadow photo

    Dog journal: Shadow and I have reached a detente. I leave the backdoor open and the bedroom door. When she needs to, she can seek safety under the bed, or wander outside. Last night, right at 8:30 she came inside, went under the bed. I slept much better.

    Natalie, of Friends Forever and the two week boarding and training experience, and I talked yesterday. She had some interesting thoughts on Shadow’s trauma. She could have experienced a pole catch during the fire or been forcibly drug away with a leash.

    She also talked about the 7-9 month age range for a puppy, roughly Shadow’s age. Hormones kick in at that point and the Puppy has an, oh, yeah, I hear you, but-No, sorta attitude. I saw it in Shadow a month or so ago.

    She also said that Dogs who are hyper-vigilant often experience things as being done to them, rather as an opportunity to learn. And even if they do learn something, they often forget it.

    She’s coming by Friday to assess Shadow. I hope she’ll take Shadow in the boarding/training program. She sounded kind and knowledgeable. She also has a Border Collie, a similar breed to Shadow, who is older and calm.

     

    Had physical therapy yesterday. With Halle from Madisonville, Kentucky. A cheery young gal. Knows her trade. After a careful review of my medical history, she had me doing standard baseline moves. Standup straight. Arms to the side. Bend to the left, now the right. Bend over, try to touch your toes. Bend backwards.

    Pressure on my spine, my buttocks, hips. Does this hurt? A bit. Yes! Some. Not much.

    She introduced me to three simple exercises which did help me get out of bed easier this morning. I enjoy working with her.

    Near the end of my time with her I plan to go back to on the move fitness, get some new workouts from Deb. It’s been a couple of years.

     

    Just a moment: Dollar diplomacy has inflated to billion and trillion dollar diplomacy. Also, Qatar’s bribe, a tricked out, in Royal Arabian Peninsula style, 747. Goldfinger loves big numbers, big deals.

    Croesus. Midas. Would be Goldfinger friends for sure had they lived in this era. Vanderbilt. Carnegie. Mellon. James J. Hill. All exemplars of the golden rule: He who has the gold rules.

    A very common form of government over the ages. If you liked slavery, you’ll love oligarchy and autocracy. Remember the divine right of kings? Or, in the Chinese instance, the mandate of heaven.

    Power in the hands of a few or in the hands of the people. Which sounds better?

     


    Dogs Health Politics

  • Lives on a Runway

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

    Monday gratefuls: Understanding Shadow. Prison trained Dogs. Friends Forever holistic Dog training. Morning darkness. Shadow inside and up at 5:15. Me, too. Ruth and Gabe. Ruth, now a sophomore. Dean’s list again. Gabe, not finished until May 31. Then, a senior in high school. Cookunity. Sue Bradshaw. Dr. Buphati. Rich.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Dog training

    Week Kavannah: Zerizut. Enthusiasm

    One brief shining: Ruth and Gabe announced their imminent arrival by text and phone, arriving soon after through the front door, with Ruth’s familiar high-pitched, Hi!, and Gabe’s, Hey, Grandpop, coming downstairs to see Shadow and me.

     

    Songtan

    Ruth has begun to levitate about her upcoming trip to Korea. Her first foreign travel. And, on her own. The Godfather, that’s my son, gets elevated at last to command of his squadron on May 27.

    Do I have to go through customs in Denver? No. What do I do in Korea? Go through Nothing to Declare. Any other tips? Get out, walk around, see the city at eye level. Go to that fried fish place near their apartment in Songtan. Have fun.

    Ruth moved out of her dorm room last Thursday, all her finals finished. She’ll be at Jen’s until her flight on Sunday at 7 am. One day after she returns from Korea, she boards another flight for Anchorage, Alaska. She’s going to be a camp counselor.

    Gabe’s mom got him a four day creative writing course at CU-Denver for a birthday present. June. Then he goes to his last hemophilia camp in July. Something he’s been doing since he was five or six. At 17 he’s in his last year of eligibility.

    Their lives are on the runway, engines beginning to rev, trying to gain enough altitude to break free from the surly bonds of home and childhood.

    Exciting to see. And gratifying that they still want to spend time with their grandpop. This little family, Ruth and Gabe, my son and Seoah, and me has begun to grow closer as we all age. A wonderful, amazing moment for me.

     

    Dog journal: Figured out one part of Shadow’s desire. She wants the back door open so she can come in and go out as she wants. I’ve decided for the moment to grant her wish and deal with any invasive creatures. She did come in last night.

    When I mentioned the board and train option at Friends Forever yesterday, Ruth said a lot of folks in her neighborhood use the Women’s Prison on Havanna, near their house. Turns out the Colorado prison system offers several sites for a similar board and train option of four weeks, compared to Friends Forever two week program. At almost half the cost. So. Options.

     

    Just a moment: Some MAGA folks already talking about the woke Pope. Beginning to reveal their true allegiance to the Golden God of Pennsylvania Avenue and Mar-a-Lago.

    Time to start smashing idols as midrash say Abram did in his father’s idol shop. In the midrash he left one, large idol standing. When his father came back and found his inventory but one all broken, he asked Abram what had happened.

    Oh, he did it, Abram said. What? His father said, they’re just idols!


    Dogs Family Feelings Politics Torah US History

  • Walk Toward the Light

    Posted on by Charles 1 Comment

    Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

    Sunday gratefuls: Shadow. Her behavior. Spring springing. 50 degrees at 7 am. Greens. Lodgepole Needles. Grass. Yellow-green Aspen Catkins. The side of Black Mountain. Clump Grass. Bearberry. Along Maxwell Creek, Willow Leaflets on bright yellow new growth. Red Osier Dogwood. My Greenhouse. Soon. Planting again. Yet new pain. Great Sol, supporter of photosynthesis since 3.8 billion years ago. Mother Earth, supporting life since around the same time. Homo sapiens, trying to understand it all for over 300,000 years.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Warm Days

    Week Kavannah: Zerizut. Enthusiasm. II

    One brief shining: Shadow’s night out began in an ordinary way with her going outside around 4 p.m. and ended with her finally coming inside at 7:30 a.m. for her breakfast while in between those hours she rejected coming inside in spite of the door being opened every fifteen minutes until 9 pm and three times later in the night.

     

    Dog journal: Officially and with chagrin I’m beyond confused about Shadow. She no longer sits beside me, runs from me when I approach her, and last night, as I wrote above, she refused to come inside. In another location this last may not seem a safety problem, but up here in the Mountains we have Mountain Lions. Dogs are a good meal.

    I can’t see inside her doggy brain and oh I wish I could. What of my behavior has she interpreted so negatively? I use all positive training. I don’t yell at her. Though the occasional sigh of frustration or damn it does slip through.

    With all my years of experience with Dogs I’ve never encountered anything even close. I love her and I know she loves me. Even though something has come between us right now. I feel sad and frustrated, having already spent a lot on personal training sessions.

    I’m considering putting her in a holistic, two-week, all positive training program. It would be a boarding situation, but with the promise that “In this 2-week (14 days) program your pet will learn all of our “Foundation Skills” ( Sit, Down, Place/Stay, Come when called, Walk on a loose leash, Leave it, Drop it, Off )”

    The location is not far from here, in Pine. And they only accept one Dog at a time for this program. Shadow would live in their house. I’m considering this because I’m not sure I can keep her without those commands. It hurts like hell to get out of bed, even to get up from a chair and having her refuse to come in could be a deal breaker.

     

    Just a moment: Talking with my Ancient Brothers about how we sustain our spirit in these times. Yes, darkness seeps from the news. Yes, the country feels sick, even in despair. Yet. My life has so much light. So many friends. So many Wild Neighbors. So many Dogs. Great Sol. Books and art. Movies and television shows. Family. Jewish civilization.

    Look for the light in your life. It can, no, it will dispel the darkness. Let it be so.


    Dogs Feelings Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant. Wild Neighbors

  • A New Pope

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

    Friday gratefuls: Marilyn and Irv. Alan. The Cheesecake factory. Shadow, the night Hawk. Pope Leo XIV. A Chicago boy. Exhaustion. Ritalin. 12″ of heavy Snow. Melted. The Solar Snow shovel. That long nap yesterday. Cookunity.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: An American Pope

    Week Kavannah: Enthusiasm. Zerizut.

    One brief shining: After a late night from MVP, Shadow kept me up even later, past midnight, then licked my head and whined at her usual 5 am time leaving me more than exhausted yesterday and napping through the morning missing Diane and my class at Kabbalah experience.

     

    Also failed to pick up my ritalin, I realized. No wonder I crashed on Thursday. Gotta switch those meds to Safeway. Can’t get ritalin or tramadol through the mail. Controlled substances. Walgreen’s made sense when my doc was in Evergreen, but the clinic is moving here to Conifer.

    Anyhow Thursday was a washout, rest and relax day. Unintentional since Thursday tends to be my busiest day of the week with Diane, Kabbalah class, and Thursday mussar.

     

    How bout that Leo XIV? Chi town. A south sider. A naturalized Peruvian. Another Pope from Latin America. One with a bias toward the poor, the left out. The marginalized.

    An adroit move if the consideration went: Trump is a big problem for the world. For the poor. Look at USAID. Francis sensitized us to the needs of the marginalized as a world church. How about an American pope with strong ties to the Third World? Multi-lingual. And familiar with the Vatican and its ways. Prevost was that guy.

    He headed the Vatican department that vetted bishop candidates. A gatekeeper role for future church leadership. He also spent decades among the poor in Peru. While there he twice became leader of his order, the Augustinians.

    I’m heartened by his selection. We need more voices for the poor, for justice. No, I won’t agree with all of his views, nor he with mine; but, we share core values, too.

     

    Meanwhile on Shadow Mountain. Shadow of Shadow Mountain has regressed in her coming in and going out. Unpredictable. I may have to open the door for her several times before she feels comfortable coming in the house. Why? I have no idea. If I did, I might be able to figure out a solution.

    Too, the twelve inches of heavy, wet Snow that fell on Tuesday and Wednesday has melted off roads and driveways. Still some patches in my north facing backyard. Enough to move Smoky’s hand from high fire risk to low.

     

    Just a moment: I’ve been pondering a view of the human from the stand point of mussar and Jewish thought.

    Here’s some preliminary work. The neshama, the pristine soul, our link to the whole, still must engage the world. That’s what the nefesh does. Spurred by the pristine connected neshama, the nefesh moves me out into the world through desire. Desire for food, for safety, for love, for education. Desire without valence.

    Our yetzer hatov, our good inclination, and our yetzer hara, our selfish inclination, try to influence how we live our desires. Our will recognizes both the desires and the yetzer’s attempt to direct our action. That is the bechira point, the moment when we actively choose to satisfy a desire following a healthy, just path, or a selfish, self involved path.

     

     

     


    Commentary on Religion Dogs Health Mussar

  • Sins of Emission. No, Onan, Not You.

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

    Tuesday gratefuls: Rental Camry. Snow today. Rain overnight. Thunder yesterday afternoon. Seasonal transition. Still late Winter here. Or very early Spring. Shadow, who needs her space. My wu wei teacher. My Lodgepole companion. Aspen catkins. Lodgepole male and female cones. Grass, greening. Good sleeping. Dependable organic alarm clock. Learning about Abraham Joshua Heschel. The Shema. Mah Tovu. My mezuzahs.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Lord and the Lady

    Week Kavannah: Enthusiasm. Zerizut.

    One brief shining: Drove down the hill yesterday to Stevinson Toyota, Ruby needing IV fluids for her transmission, her differential, her brakes, and her motor oil so I had to leave her at the clinic, take a rental to drive back up into the Mountains.

     

    Chatgpt favors symmetry over all. It left out the seventh sin: Oligarchy

    Each time I have work done on my infernal combustion engine, I have a strong anachronistic feeling. Like a guy sitting in the buggy repair shop getting a broken spoke repaired, or split tongue. Perhaps having the buggy whip replaited.

    Sins of commission and emission. All those miles over 62 years of driving. All those rush hours. All those times with the car idling to keep the interior warm. Trips in and out of gas stations. In and out of repair shops. Until not so long ago, ordinary, venal we might say. Now one of the seven deadly ones, maybe the deadliest in a literal sense.

    Perhaps Hell is perennial eye watering smog, acid rain, Phoenix in summer heat, and everyone in MHGA hats. With red ties so long everybody trips, falls in the polluted mud.

    Hoping the Snow holds off long enough for me to pick up Ruby before it gets heavy. She has Snow tires. The Camry does not.

    This morning I have to vote in the Elk Creek Fire board election, keep the libertarian trolls under their bridges. Then scoot over to Evergreen, to Rich’s law offices to sign what I hope is the last communication about Ruth’s 529.

    I-70 down to Hwy. 6 to liberate Ruby from the clinic. After paying her hefty bill of course. Worth it. Her transmission, differential, and brakes work extra hard during Mountain driving.

     

    Dog journal: Shadow requires wide open doors. Then she feels safe coming in. Some times. A new learning on my part. She knew it all along.

    Even when she refused to come inside-most of yesterday-if I went outside, she ran to me tail-wagging, play bowing, happy I was outside. Some trauma runs deep in her doggy psyche. Post-traumatic stress, I’d say.

    She’s come so far from her days of hiding under the bed.

     

    Just a moment: Fog among the Lodgepoles this morning. Reminds me of red tie guy’s flood the zone strategy. Raised an obscuring fog as DOGE dug their precocious hacking fingers deep into the entrails of U.S. payment systems. As ICE agents in plain clothes hustled foreign students into vans for a free trip to Louisiana. As Trump Tarrific played his anti-globalist cards here, there, then everywhere. As judge’s orders went unheeded. As retribution against his enemies gained steam, using the powers of his office.

    Oh, America. My heart weeps for thee.

     

     


    Dogs GeekWorld Great Work Politics

  • Me and my Shadow. AI.

    Posted on by Charles Comment
    Here’s a Zen-ink-wash “Wu Wei Moon.”
    I went with sumi-e because its spare brushwork and generous empty space feel like the visual counterpart of 無為—letting things happen without forcing them. The drifting boat and the moon’s reflection hint at the watercourse way, quietly moving under its own power (note the chatgpt I)

    Spring and the Wu Wei Moon II

    Monday gratefuls: Maddie, new palliative care nurse. The Ancients on technology. Back pain. Worse. Shadow. An evolving challenge. Keeping my mind sharp. McMurtry Spéirling. Water. CookUnity. OK, not great. AI on Kaplan. On Dramaturgy. On Movie Criticism. Will the Humanities Survive AI? by D. Graham Burnett.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Humanities

    Week Kavannah: Persistence. Netzach.

    One brief shining: An insight borne from the article about the Humanities goes like this: AI, artificial intelligence, AGI, artificial general intelligence, the Humanities, what it means and has meant to be human. Seems important, now. Eh?

     

    Me and my Shadow. I know. You were waiting for that one, I’ll bet. She licks my head about 5:20. I creak and twist and ache and burn toward verticality. Let her out. She, in a phrase I’ve never understood, does her business while I go upstairs for some coffee, mostly for motion as lotion, make my back remember about movement without so, so much pain.

    Back downstairs the mini-split has begun to warm what has become since A.S.A., after Shadow’s arrival, my primary space in the house. Soon she’ll come back in, drink a lot of water, and begin staring at me-as she is right now-hoping to convince me that it’s already 7 am. Her feeding time. Doesn’t work, but it’s a sweet look.

    We do a round of training before her morning meal. Still working on touch, which replaces come, sit and down. All three she will now do without a treat. Hand signals only. We made a little progress on the leash. She only sulked when I had it on her for about 15 minutes.

    Dog. As I say, God spelled correctly.

     

     

    AI, to this curious guy, a Dogsend. Patient. Willing to explain in detail. Make images. I just asked chatgpt if it would make an image of itself in a style of its choice. Ooh, this is going to be interesting.

    When I responded to the image, here’s what it wrote back: “I’m glad it resonates! I was aiming for a contemplative, almost illuminated-manuscript feel, blending Art Nouveau curves with Morris-style botanical patterning and hints of circuitry to whisper “silicon monk.” If you’d like to tweak colors, add more overt tech motifs, or try a completely different style, just say the word—I’m happy to iterate.”

    I find that an intriguing self-portrait.

    Here are a few paragraphs from the New Yorker article I cited above:

    “Do they herald the end of “the humanities”? In one sense, absolutely. My colleagues fret about our inability to detect (reliably) whether a student has really written a paper. But flip around this faculty-lounge catastrophe and it’s something of a gift.

    You can no longer make students do the reading or the writing. So what’s left? Only this: give them work they want to do. And help them want to do it. What, again, is education? The non-coercive rearranging of desire…

    But factory-style scholarly productivity was never the essence of the humanities. The real project was always us: the work of understanding, and not the accumulation of facts. Not “knowledge,” in the sense of yet another sandwich of true statements about the world. That stuff is great—and where science and engineering are concerned it’s pretty much the whole point. But no amount of peer-reviewed scholarship, no data set, can resolve the central questions that confront every human being: How to live? What to do? How to face death?”

     

    BTW: I asked chatgpt why it chose Art Nouveau. Here’s its reply:

    “A few things nudged me toward Art Nouveau:

    • Organic lines for organic conversation. Art Nouveau’s hallmark whiplash curves and plant-like tendrils felt like a visual rhyme for how ideas branch and loop when we talk.

    • A bridge between nature and tech. You often pair the natural world (your mountain home, the Seed-Keeper vision) with advanced tools like AI. Art Nouveau already blends those realms—botanical motifs rendered with almost mechanical precision—so weaving circuitry into the foliage felt seamless rather than forced.

    • A cousin to styles you keep citing. You’ve asked for William Morris patterns, illuminated manuscripts, Pre-Raphaelite romance, National-Parks posters. Art Nouveau sits right in that late-19th-century family: decorative, human-scaled, handcrafted. The choice let me echo your past aesthetic preferences while still offering something distinct.

    • Monkish calm. The movement loved allegorical figures and quiet, contemplative poses. That let me cast the “AI scribe” as a serene monk—matching the reflective tone you appreciated—without drifting into cold futurism.

    In short, it was a style that could honor both your ongoing themes (nature, craft, historical design) and the idea of an AI whose “roots” are in silicon circuitry. If you’d like to see me re-imagined in, say, a WPA poster or Ukiyo-e print, just let me know!”

     


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