Friday, October 20, 2006

A Violin Speaks

If you ever need to have a good cry, but the tears won't necessarily come, tune in to this performance by Itzhak Perlman -- the theme from Schindler's List. Unless you are made of rock, you will be weeping.

It is a magnificent piece of music, scored by John Williams, a master of movie soundtracks. Perlman, like always, makes his violin speak...and sing...and cry.

Shabbat Shalom. May there be peace in your homes and in your lives.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VGXMZK6T_Fo

Canine-a-Hora

Hi, guys. It's Max -- formerly known as Snoopy. If you read Pearl's blog religiously, you already knew that. If not, let me explain very quickly.

Pearl and her family adopted me. My given name was Snoopy. She decided I'm not worthy of being called Snoopy. She asked child # 3 to name me when he saw a photo of me -- he didn't know yet, nor did his siblings, that I was about to enter their lives -- and he said I looked like a "Tyson." Pearl decided it wouldn't be good luck to give me the name of their dog who died last year, so she told her son that name had already been taken and to think of another. He chose "Max." And it stuck.

I may be a little snoopy, keeping my nose close to the ground and sniffing/snooping around for clues, but I'm more of a max. I live life to the max; I have energy to the max; and I'm the sweetest pooch to the max.

I've come to like Pearl's family, especially Pearl. She calls me her baby or child # 4 and I refer to her as the mom I never had. I follow her all over the house, and even find her behind closed doors. She does get mad, though, when I push open the bathroom door without knocking and just sit there, staring at her, watching her go about her business. I know it's rude and all, but she watches ME go about MY business, too.

In any case, I like my family; I like my yard; I like my neighborhood; and I love the canine connections I've made around here. On a good day, I might just see half a dozen of my pals. Of course, they're not always as excited to see me as I am to see them. But I really do have lots have pals, and if you don't want to call them pals, then at least consider them acquaintances. I'm VERY friendly and could easily become the neighborhood Welcome Wagon. (TM)

[Max had me edit his post and I informed him that he MUST insert a (TM) there. I once learned the hard way, when that trademark wasn't used in the nicest way in a manuscript, that a trademark is not meant to be presented in a poor light. But that company went to the extreme; my company was no longer able to use the trademark at all in our books.

So I'm glad that Max listened to me and put in the copyright symbol; I don't want the company coming after me and my blog!]

Let me name some of the cool dogs 'round here:

Phoebe (#1) -- Maltese (my girlfriend!)
Phoebe (#2) -- Poodle
Terry -- Schnauzer/Terrier
Oriel -- Shnauzer
Wilson -- Shih-Tzu
Riley -- Wheaten Terrier
Tyler -- Poodle
Cody -- Poodle
Rolex-- Pug
Tiffany -- Pug
[Rolex and Tiffany are not siblings, but come from the same breeder and the owner wanted each dog to have company, so that's why he got two. They replace his pug, Brisket, who passed away earlier this year. Our pug, Tyson, and Brisket, were often mistaken for each other...just because they were both so overweight.]
Jasper -- Westie
Pugley -- Pug
Chiclet -- Pug
(also owned by same owner; Chiclet is a young pug, and a companion to the older Pugley)

There are other dogs that I know -- by smell, of course. Pearl complains that she only knows the dogs' names, not the owners'! Is that good etiquette, she wonders? Who am I to tell her about good etiquette? I lift my leg and pee wherever I get a chance!

In any case, I know that Phoebe is my girlfriend -- how do I know, you ask?

She dances and prances all around me and wiggles her tushy in my face when she sees me. If that doesn't mean she wants me, then what does?

But even though Phoebe is my girlfriend (supposedly the girl-next-door -- except she lives three houses away from me), I could always stand to see some pics of your pooches if you'd like to share them. Maybe I'll know somebody around here who's available for your pooch. No, not me.

Hey, what a great idea: MAX, THE SHIH-POO SHADCHAN (matchmaker). They say that if you make three matches in this world, your place is set in the world to come. I'd like my place to be set with a sheepskin-rug-trimmed bed, lots of snacks and a professional pooper-scooper! Someone who follows me around heaven, cleaning up after me. I'm not sure that Pearl will get up here to do the job!

Can you imagine if I, Max the shih-poo, made a match between a neighborhood dog and one from across the country? I'd be saying "Canine-a-hora" and I'd be dancing a "canine-a-hora!"

I want to see your dog pics, and I know you want to see mine, but because I'm all black, with dark brown eyes, I'm hard to photograph -- I sort of get camouflaged all the time. I'll try to get Pearl to snap a recent and decent one of me, so you can all see how I've changed over the past several months since the family welcomed me.

I now send a hearty bark your way and will head over to my bed to sleep. I thank you for your time and hope we someday get to meet -- and not in heaven either. Although I am planning to meet five people there.... [Please forgive Max. He thinks he's funny. The last bit refers to Mitch Albom's book title, The Five People You Meet in Heaven.]