Over the years Pongo’s black spots became grey.  The mollies all gradually change their colors, with gold and black and white all shifting back and forth, and one even recently showing a bit of turquoise.  Looking through some old photos this morning though I noticed that Diego, the ultimate white fluffy puppy, still looks pretty much the same as the day we brought him home, four and a half years ago.  He’s almost six years old and still has the same coloring as that day back in 2008.  I’m so jealous.

Still in escrow (or at least no one’s told us differently).

Still free of prostate cancer (confirmed by the official finger of BorgHealth this morning).

Still wondering why I decorate for Christmas even though I have a dog.

Over the years I’ve gotten pretty good at keeping my dogs safe.  I’ve learned to stay clear from the big dogs and keep the Christmas candy stored safely.  I’m used to seeing signs for rattlers in season.  I was still a bit surprised this morning to see signs at the local dog park warning of circling hawks.  What exactly am I supposed to do to keep my puppy safe from flying killer birds?

All kinds of things  running through my mind as I watch this.  Musings on how much of photography is being in the right place and the right time.  Recollections of kayaking out and snorkeling with the seals and sea lions and otters in Monterey Bay. Amazement at the shots Paul Nicklen got on this adventure.  And a bit of reconsideration about what was going on in Pongo’s mind when he’d bring me live geckos when we still lived in Togo.  Did he really think I was “useless” when I didn’t know what to do with his gift?

[via Towleroad]

Pongo never had a dedicated bed.  He was quite content creating his little fortress of solitude out of his blanket and whatever gently-used undies he could round up from the laundry pile.

Diego, on the other hand, has had a bed for a couple of weeks now.  It’s a comfy little thing that Spinner got at Costco.  Fake fur on the inside and overstuffed with fluff all around. He’s a perfect fit on the inside and he can drag it around when he feels he should be sleeping somewhere with a better view.

The dragging is the problem.  One of the corners gave out after less than a week.  That’s when Diego realized a bed is like a box of Cracker Jacks.  OMG if a just pull out all the other stuff there’s a prize in there somewhere I know there’s a prize I just gotta keep looking…  Last week I reinserted the fluff and stitched up the seam.  Then again tonight.  Sure a bed can be a play space, but a play thing?  Dumb dog better learn quick or he’s going to find himself with a blanket and some old undies just like Pongo had.  

As part of a new expansion of the San Diego Zoo’s Wild Animal Park, Cape Hunting Dogs may finally be represented in North County.  Cape Hunting Dog is one of the various names for Lycaon pictus, also known as the African Wild or Painted Dogs, and cousins to the Pongo.   

Diego, in his official role as the Pongo Lama, current incarnation of the spirit of the Pongo, is wagging his tail in approval.

Nice visit to the zoo this morning.  Normally the bigger hunters aren’t out and about much during the day, but something must’ve been in the air this morning that got them all up and looking for breakfast tourists.  Snif, snif.  Mmmmm, scrambled eggs with a side of Iowa farmboy.

The bears were frolicking, the tigers and leopards were out, and even all the fun puppies (New Guinea singing dogs, African painted dogs, spotted and striped hyenas) seemed to be out and about. 

Randy still gets amazed at how much the hyenas and wild dogs (and even the New Guinea singing dogs) resemble Pongo. I agree on the resemblances, but just assume that an african mutt is an african mutt and somewhere back in time there have to have been some crossed genes. Still, it’s nice to know that even though he never bred a part of him is still out there, literally chewing up the world.

Thumbboy stopped in to check out the cousins while downtown this morning. It seems the reason they blew off my birthday party last Monday is their spacious new electrified enclosure. Some nonsense about not being able to get free.

They were all frisky and running about, probably in anticipation of some Cinco de Mayo party. Wild Dogs are all about the fiestas. Not really into guac and chips, but if they bring in some pork rinds and bacon-wrapped thingees, I’m sure the cousins will give those zoo critters a party to talk about even after we’re long extinct.

Work is here to be done, but my sinuses are clear for the first time in two weeks, the temperature under the beautiful blue sky is 75 degrees, and the mind just keeps wandering off.  Kinda like Pongo’s.  Took a walk on the beach this morning hoping it would settle me down a bit so I could focus, but one grande coffee from the ubquitous coffee emporium and one 256 MB memory card later, I’m still bouncing off the walls.  Please help me.

Damselfish my well-licked butt.

This is a Pongofish.

It showed attitude when trying to dodge Chuck’s evil camera.

It has the colors.

It is worthy of the name.

Where do I start the paperwork?