For the Joy of Winter

I apologize for the lapse in material. The holidays had us very busy, with running to one side of the family to the other to friends. There was quite a bit of car time for us driving around and sometimes, hanging in the car while Mom and Dad went in places. Ayla has some definite issues about being left behind. I tell her, "It's cool, you should use this time to rest before they take us running around some more. They will be back." And she's all, "That's all very nice for you, but I'm going to chew this car apart to figure out how to open the doors and go find them." So Mom had to spray nasty bitter stuff in the car and tire out the puppy more than usual.

Needless to say, all of this activity has kept me away from the computer. My laptop doesn't work in the car, but I've been thinking about all my loyal fans desperately awaiting an update.

We went out to Cape Cod - the top three pictures are from a beach near Hyannis. We also did some local hikes in Freetown and Brandt Island. We had an awesome time with our cousin Kyra who is a beautiful black lab. If I could actually catch her, I would tell her how much I dig her. You all know how I am with the ladies. Kyra really digs me too, she just plays it cool and she can't help running.

I'm sorry that these appear sometimes as a solid block of text. Blogspot has an issue with that and I hate doing it manually in the html. My paws are so incredibly awkward with the keyboard anyway.

We should be back on schedule with the posts from here on. Mom's particularly into hiking in the winter so we'll have more adventures coming in 2008. Unless of course, Ayla succeeds at her attempts to thwart me by chewing through the rest of the laptop powercord (how can that taste good?).

The Snow, The Kid, The Couch

We had our first big snow this week. The Kid went diving right into it, prancing and playing, getting full of the stuff. I politely told her, "Little one, snow is best once it is patted down into a nice cold, flat bed. Do not get your coat full of snow chunks. Do not bury your face in it. Above all, do not act like you like it."

She just gave me a look to say, "Yeah, whatever, Old Man." And took off in a frolicky flounce of fluff.

It was a little challenging to keep an eye on her and keep my paws from getting unnecessarily snowed. Mom has said things to me like, "Don't you know you're a sheepdog, with origins in the Alps? Working with sheep in big snow?" And I'm all, "Don't you know your foreparents slept outside too?" Ha.

The truth is, I suppose I could walk in deep snow if I had to, but I don't have to. There is a perfectly good couch with my name on it when the weather is less than desirable (read: desirable=cold, dry, sunny).

I am glad Ayla enjoyed herself. It made for nice sleepy snuggling on the couch with Dad afterwards. And I have to admit, Ayla is really cute when she's sleepy. There's nothing like a tired puppy.

The Kid

It's been a challenge to post this week, Mom has been taking us to work everyday, and when I am home, I have to keep an eye on The Kid. Ayla is a very sweet little sister, but she can be all puppy all the time. My work is never done. On the one hand, this new responsibility gives me a strong sense of fulfillment. On the other hand, I'm so tired. I'd just like to sit back with some turkey and some sweet time with Big Red. But as the picture above demonstrates, she likes to have all the toys.

This week, Mom took us to Goddard Park in RI which is one of my favorite spots. It's a mixture of woods and beach. It was 17 degrees of perfect dry cold. We were running free. The Kid and I were sniffing and running together. There was no one there in that weather, until there was one other winter lover out with a few dogs. Mom yelled, "Hold up." And I did. Ayla did too for a second but then ran ahead to check out the other dog. So I looked at Mom to say, "Sorry, I've got to do my duty." And I ran after her.

Now, normally, I'm a dog's dog. Big, small, stinky, love 'em all. But this Boxer wanted to sniff The Kid and something came over me. I didn't want that dog to be anywhere near her. I put myself between the dog and Ayla and gave a low growl. The other dog went scampering away and I almost felt badly. He seemed pretty cool but I just can't have anyone touch my sister just yet. She's so young and vulnerable. And, frankly, she's mine.

Mom leashed us after that and we saw not another soul out that day. The Kid is pretty bad on the leash and I just have to laugh watching Mom go through all that all over again. I just don't think Mom realizes that she takes us to lots of interesting places and the excitement is overwhelming. The leash is a total drag.

In an alternate universe, dogs drive cars very slowly so as not to miss a squirrel sighting. The cars are all convertibles. Mom and Dad could rest in the backseat. There would be no highways, just beautiful woods and open spaces with the occasional front porched houses. There are no leashes, just dogs running and frolicking free together, eventually returning home to our people. Our people are always home or with us. Our homes are filled with cool floors, giant couches, and big ol' bowls of cookies.

And all the dogs and people just know that The Kid is with ME.

7 Random Things Including Big Red

Clare from Clare's Sunflower Sky challenged me to write 7 weird/random things about myself. We love the world of blogs and the friends we are making. Clare's blog is really interesting and her dog Moose looks like someone who might really be fun to hang with at the beach.

So here are my 7 things:

1. Turkey. I can still remember my first Thanksgiving. My discovery of TURKEY. I never left the meat platter. It's rich, it's moist, and it's one of the few food items that I really get excited about. Periodically, Mom makes me turkey in the crock pot. Misty and I sit at the door of the kitchen, waiting, waiting, waiting for our special treat. Since Mom is mostly vegetarian, Misty and I have to send deep telepathic nudging messages to Mom to get her to cook for us. And it totally works.

2. Big Red. Big Red is a very large stuffed red dog that Dad bought for me a couple years ago. I have abandoned almost all other toys for Big Red. After dinner, I ask (rather emphatically) for Dad (or Mom if Dad is unavailable, but truth be told, I really prefer Dad for this) to hold Big Red while I (um, how can I say this?) love up Big Red. Ayla has been interfering with this game and it's the one thing that really bugs me about the kid. Big Red is MY love muffin.

3. The Smell of Coffee in the Morning. When the coffee is ready, the morning walk follows. When I see Mom pouring coffee into her travel mug, I know we are going soon which brings me to number 4...

4. Walk. Mom and Dad have taken to just saying "W" so as not to overexcite me with the word, "walk." Come on you guys, I'm 6, you think I don't know how to spell yet? Especially that word. So I now know that they don't say "walk" until they are ready to go. The morning walk is the most important one for me. It doesn't really matter if it is a long or a short one, but I do get extra excited when we turn right instead of left at the end of our street which means we are going for a long one. One of things I really appreciate about Cesar Milan is that he emphasizes the importance of the walk. Everybody needs a nice walk together as a family. It's the best part of every day.

5. Ladies. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I am a Ladies Man. Girly, sweet, flocky Bergamascos, especially Aria, make life extra special. We are going to see Aria tomorrow, so I'm chillin' hard on the couch today, saving my precious manly energy in anticipation of the lovin'.

6. Bedtime. Our family has some pretty intense bedtime routines. Mom goes to bed first after containing the kid next to her side of the bed (can you believe she still thinks it's okay to pee inside the house?), then Dad. Then Misty needs to lay on Dad's chest to claim him. Then I ask very politely if I may join the bed, and I jump onto the foot of the bed and curl up to rest. Then Anna comes creeping in to find the coziest spot to snuggle. And we all relax in contemplative family joy as we gently find our way to sleep. After I rest a bit and clean myself, I leave the bed. A sheepdog needs to protect the family at night, so I sleep in the doorway. Of course.

7. Couch. Some *dogs* are not even allowed on couches, but I am no ordinary canine. It started as a fluke, snuggling on Dad's couch when Mom and Dad were dating. And gradually, the right side of the couch became mine. They put some blankets on my spot to make it extra cozy I guess. I'm a little irritated by it, but they have been letting the kid up there with me. She really likes to snuggle up against me, and I think I'm starting to like it a little bit.

Thanks to Clare for some new inspiration for writing!

Pure Genius

Ayla and I differ in one key aspect. She is all about food and I am not. Ayla cannot resist my food, the cat food, crumbs on the floor, things that look like crumbs on the floor. Ayla actually happily eats (ahem) dog food (gasp) which I guess makes things easier for Mom and proves that Ayla is a dog and I am something else entirely.

When I was a pup and even now, when Mom didn't want me somewhere and placed anything in the doorway, I wouldn't go there. I don't like to go where I might be stuck or something might make a noise. Ayla is fearless and driven. I don't go in the CAT ROOM. Misty told me not to and so I don't. Ayla, despite being contained at night and various chairs and baby gates, has found her way into the CAT ROOM and eaten much cat food. And, unlike me, Ayla does not need more junk in her trunk.

So, in a stroke of genius and cheapness, Dad cut a Misty/Anna sized hole in the baby gate and lined it with foam. On the internet, these babies sell for like sixty bucks. Dad did the whole deal for a few dollars worth of foam.

Most importantly, my sweet, sweet Anna, the adventurer, loves it.

Taking the Kid on the Road

It is amazing how a hike in the woods can bring a family together.

I've been tolerating Ayla, training Ayla, licking Ayla, watching Ayla, ignoring Ayla, but really accepting her is taking some time.

This weekend, we took her on the road to Vermont. At least in the eyes of my fans, I am still the most interesting dog. People ignored the fluff ball and admired and questioned my flocky goodness. Dad would occasionally point out Ayla to people with a "and that's what they look like as puppies." Oh, please. I didn't look like her. I had my mottled black and gray spots. I was sleeker through the hips. I had my boyish charm.

In the woods, though, I found something else in Ayla. I started to see what Mom and Dad see. She can be a good friend to me. We ran and ran and ran some more. She really understood that I am in front of her on the trail. She stayed on the trail and listened to all of us. And most importantly, we found a new connection. She got a glimpse of what it really is to be in our family. And we, all of us, started to fall in love with Ayla.

Couch Potato Puffs

There's tired and then there's we have a puppy in the house tired. Ayla really looks to me for direction and safety. It feels very important to give her the closeness and comfort she seeks even if I'm exhausted. Yesterday, Mom brought us both to work. Ayla was good and quiet but I felt like I really needed to check out all the people who wanted to say hello to her. I'm not sure everyone realizes that she is a special girl and is still so young. It's good that she has me to protect her.

Today was raining. Like really raining. Like there is no way I'm stepping foot out in that weather raining. Ayla just went bounding out into the yard into puddles and into the mud. There is so much she has to learn.

I tried to tell Mom that allowing Ayla on the couch at this age is completely inappropriate. I was at least 3 before I was allowed up on the couch. And I'm not sure she knows where we are allowed to be, but as with most things, she looks to me for direction.

Ayla's favorite thing is to mash herself against me and go to puppy sleep. I'm getting used to it, but I can't really get a solid nap when I'm being careful with her. At least at night, Mom and Dad keep her barricaded to the bed so the cats and I can get some much needed rest. Mom has been praising the gods who brought coffee to the universe.

Share the Love

Well, yesterday started out like other days. We got up, had a snack, and then I got to go on a road trip with just Mom. We're driving down the road, sharing an egg and cheese croissant, and feeling the tingle of adventure.

We end up in New Jersey at a big building filled with people and Bergamascos. Aria wasn't there this time but Mezza and her two pups were there as well as Donna and Stephen who lived with my Bergamasco mom where I was born. I do love the ladies and there were some fine Bergalitas-so-sweetas at the event. They were playing it cool but I know they saw me. I was the oldest guy there and talked more than any other dog.

Eventually, I went out to the car to have a little drink and some air. When I turned around, Mom was coming to the car carrying a little black puppy. And then she put her in the car with me in my seat.

In my seat.

Mine.

Sharing can be nice but I was sort of tired from the show and really wasn't expecting any of this. The puppy kept trying to get closer to me. I ended up pressed up against the side of the car and still she nudged against me.

I went up in the middle to talk to Mom. "Are we taking her somewhere? Is she coming with us? Am I still the center of your universe?"

"Yes, my love. You are my first dog, the most wonderful being, my sacred companion."

So, I let the puppy snuggle me a little.

Her name is Ayla. And she is staying. And I'm teaching her how to be in our family. And I'm showing her how to walk around the block. And I'm going between her and our sisters, the cats. And as it turns out, I think she's kind of sweet. I gave her a kiss today on the head, just to let her know I am here for her.

A Song In My Heart

Aria. Aria. Aria. Words on a page cannot explain. A picture is but a reminder of her beauty. And somewhere in Mom and Dad's laundry there clings just a slight bit of her essence. Yesterday I reencountered my one and only love and today I am exhausted and quiet in the tender memory of my hours in her presence.

Aria is a beautiful Bergamasco lady, born black, faded to Isabella. She is full of spirit and unconditional love. When I am with her, I feel my deeper, ancient mind. I am one with my physical and spiritual aspects in my connection to her.

In these moments, the voices of the people fade away. Aria's parents and mine, the other dogs, some puppies, all become a distant buzz as we remember our true selves.

[Note by Jess: This picture has been photoshopped to um... maintain the innocence of Orso's blog]

Missing the Mark

It was hard to post after the last post. I mean, that jumping picture is so outstanding it is a hard act to follow.

We've been deep in discussion about Bergamascos on Treadmills (http://www.chiquebergamasco.co.uk/forum/viewtopic.php?t=175).

Dad even went so far as to take me on our treadmill, letting my front paws walk while he was holding my back legs up for support. And I want to say for the record here, you all are missing the entire point of The Walk. Sure the fresh air is nice, the exercise of muscles is lovely, but those are completely superfluous. The point of The Walk is scent. Precious scent.

We go every morning before dawn for a long or short walk through the neighborhood. My neighborhood.

• First stop: Giant old Maple tree where I smell about 6 dogs since yesterday. I cover their scent with mine, and we're off.

• Second stop: Hasta plant outside the lady's house who has 5 cats and feeds the squirrels peanuts. I've never seen this lady but I'm guessing she and I would get along great. She has a great front porch from which to watch cats or taunt squirrels.

• Third stop: Fire hydrant in the mid-second block. It seems cliche or even passe but I can't resist.

• Fourth stop: Man hole cover in the middle of the street. This one usually annoys Mom as she scolds me for being a lazy leg lifter. Yeah, whatever. This is the first place the 10 Schitzu's come to mark when they leave their house, and there is no way I'm letting that spot go.

I could go on to include the corner fence, the front step, the tree in the park, but I think you get the idea. New places are great too; All the mysteries of trees, rocks, and bushes to be explored. A year could go by between visiting a spot and I will remember everything with one whiff.

So you see folks, we may agree to go on your exercise equipment. We may even like it. A lot actually. But let's not forget that our lives are olfactorycentric and blissfully so.

They're Not Flocks, They're Wings

One of these mornings you’re gonna rise up singing

Then you’ll spread your wings

And you’ll take to the sky

But till that morning

There ain’t nothing can harm you

With daddy and mommy standing by

Gershwin's "Summertime"

Rock Solid

Ah, Plymoth Rock. Many people come everyday to admire the stone in the cage pictured here just beyond my nose. Many people everyday are forced to suppress their disappointment about the less than grandiose spectacle that is the rock. On this day, at least, the people were given a little flocky something special.

A Quiet Week in Lake Rain-Be-Gone

I've been wanting to post but mom has been too tired to help me out with the typing. You may have noticed from my earlier post "On Couches" that I am not one to venture out in the inclement weather. Well, today was a doozie. I went out for a walk before it got too bad but spent the rest of the day writing masterpieces (in my head actually, while lying on the couch).

I'm sure some Bergamascos don't mind the rain messing up their hair and remain in happy oblivion as their delicate paws are saturated in puddles. But not this Bergamasco. Other than the one time I was distracted by a beautiful lady Bergamasco and wandered in a haze into the sea, I have kept myself out of the wet.

For those of you wondering how to get your companion sheep to stop dragging you out in the wet weather, here are some tips:

1. Act like you are sleeping when they are putting on their shoes. You might want to give it a little four-paws-in-the-air-I'm-really-sleeping look.
2. If they bring you to the door, stick your nose out and then back quickly away from the door. Then it should be pretty obvious that you are not interested.
3. If worse comes to worse, and you are there, on the front porch with your leash on (and god forbid a bright yellow rain coat), plant your feet and refuse to go further.

I would welcome any other dog's tips on getting out of getting wet. Where there's a will...

Never Were There Such Devoted Sisters

As I have previously mentioned, I have two sisters: the cats.

It used to be that the definitions were simple - I am a Dog=I chase cats. Small, furry, fast... Perfect chasing material.

Then Mom fell in love and my dog-centric universe became reshaped - I live with cats. At first I thought it was really cool. Cats! Right here in my own house for the chasing. A few swipes to the nose and severe scoldings later and I was reformed to a tip-toeing, subservient, dog.

After a few interactions, the pecking order became exceedingly clear. Misty is in charge. I really wanted to be, but there is no denying her presence. She is the eldest, the wisest, and the most assertive of us. Mom tends to laugh at Misty's assertion of Queen, but it's no laughing matter. I respect Misty - I give her space, let her eat my share of the turkey, give her a wide berth in the hallway, and always, ALWAYS, lower my eyes in deference to the Queen.

Anna is different. Ah, Anna, beautiful, sweet Anna. She's a furry ball of yellow/orange love. I always know where she is. She lets me give her a bath sometimes if I can hold my excitement in check long enough. The most loving thing about Anna is that even though she is certainly ahead of me in the household alpha order, she pretends she doesn't know it. Anna completes me.

There are other cats in my life now - the aforementioned Tuck and other family kitties. As you can see from the aforementioned Tuck incident, I have a little more trouble ignoring that essential dog equation with those cats. Those cats get me into trouble. Cats. They really demonstrate how your beliefs can shape your reality. They really think they are always in charge - And so, they are. Cats.

For Elizabeth

Summer sun lingers
Autumn whispers her shadow
Chihuahuas running

Life of a Working Dog

It may all look like fun, but being a sheepdog is tough work. Sometimes I am envious of my true sheep herding brethren. Herding people and cats has got to be tougher than white fluffy sheepies.

We went for a very long walk tonight, ate a big supper, and then it is clearly time for an early bed. So I stand in the hallway to the bedroom for a while and urge them gently with my mental powers. That gets more tiring, so I go stare down Nate for a while, with the occasional clearing of my throat. I can tell he's tired too and fighting it. Ignoring me does not get us closer to the bed. Then I go back to the hallway and bark. Once. Pause. Again. Nothing. So I go to Mom, I know she's ready for bed and will clearly hear my request. Maybe a little bark here too. Once. Again. One more. Then she does the whole, "outside?" thing. I mean, come on, how could I be misunderstood here?

Finally, Nate says, "He's herding us to bed." Duh. So, one by one, my vastly uncontrollable sheep head to bed. One, Nate's in the bed. Two, Mom is in the bed. And then, (and isn't it just like a cat to do this) Misty takes my spot at the foot of the bed, even though her spot is supposed to be on Nate's chest. She lounges there mocking me until Nate finally hears my plea and asks her to move. Once I am settled, Anna (the other cat who is much more beautiful and loving) comes to snuggle somewhere warm.

All the sheep in one bed, lights out, the sheepdog can at last clock out. Or can he? After a brief respite on the bed and a dream or two, I jump down and assume my evening post in the doorway.

Bedtime, daytime, anytime, a sheepdog's work is never done.

Elysian Sands

The water beckons some into her depths, sometimes with a thrown ball

a stick tossed with fun intentions.

The sand, however, holds a dog in surety, a predictable embrace

and when one surrenders in the tiny grains,

the gift of a million back-scratchers is joyfully received.

Ain't Misbehavin'

Mom and I have been out walking a bit more. The weather has been perfect Bergamasco weather - cool, crisp, sunny. The wonderful temperature has brought back a spring in my step. I feel younger, more alive. It's like I can see every squirrel and they are dancing and running just for my amusement. The other day at Nate's mom's house, her cat Tuck was playing a marvelous game of hide and seek with me. I think Tuck could feel how exciting this weather is too. I guess I was getting a bit overzealous and I ended up in the car. Now, normally, I love my time in the back seat, watching the sights, or sitting in the quiet. But I could hear Tuck mocking me from afar. Between that mischievous autumn air and the smell of my friend Tuck, I decided climbing out of the car was the only reasonable choice. I had to think about it, puzzle it out. I moved into the driver's seat and from there squeezed myself as flat as possible and the next thing I knew I was out, free, wild, chasing Tuck. I was actually pretty proud of myself and ran up to the back porch to say hello to everyone, but I misjudged Mom's reaction. I ended up back in the car with all windows up and an open sunroof, with Mom muttering, "If he can figure out how to climb out of the sunroof, I'll want to shoot video of that for YouTube." In other words, they were impressed with my ingenuity but not so much with my behavior. Oh well, what's a dog to do? At least while I was in the driver's seat I got a good look at the controls. I think pretty soon I'll be able to start that car on my own. I just need a cat to work the peddles........

On Couches

Clouds heavy above, let loose their watery souls
To fly and fall on my house, my yard, my porch
Drenching the emptiness
Filling in the spaces between my thoughts
And I
Listen, wiser in the knowing
Drier in the dripping silence
Of a very quiet couch

Stop and Smell the Noses

I took this picture myself (which is why it's a little distorted) and I think it is a great shot of my magnificent nose.

In The Bliss

I smelled it tonight on the wind, did you? Autumn, coming in gently in an evening breeze, reminding me of chilly afternoon walks, snuggling in cozy at night, rolling in a leaf pile. It's been a few days since my last post - I'm a slow typist - they should really invent a paw-friendly keyboard. The cats are always trying to type by just lying across the keyboard. Well, then again, maybe they are not really trying to type.

Back to Autumn... In Autumn, it feels somehow easier to let go into the moment, into the Bliss. It's something about the essence of change available right before your eyes and nose that makes a moment feel like it opens up into forever. I was riding in the car with Jess last night (that's my mom) and I was riding in the middle between the two seats which is one of my favorite spots in the car. She had taken me on a ride to a parking lot, went inside, and came back with giant bags some of which smelled like my supper meat. On the ride home, she was snuggling my head and petting me and saying, "Aren't we so lucky to have each other? Isn't our love amazing?" At first, I felt like, "Yeah Mom, thanks for overstating the obvious." But then after a moment or two of head rubbing, riding in the car together, I understood. It's just amazing to have the gift of being together just that moment, just that car ride home from the parking lot.

Sheepdog Musings

During my walk by the beach today, I pondered the future and purpose of my blog. During a 2 mile walk, my picture was taken at least 3 times, with Jess and Nate providing detailed explanations about me. This is a very common event in our world. I was a little irritated and was barking at the picture takers - I know this is a tough one for people, but come on, if you are going to take my picture, ask questions about me, admire me, etc - could you please just come over and pet me? Just a little rub, it does not need to be an elaborate admiring combined with affection, but that would be nice. I don't really ask for much. We never deny anyone a snapshot. Hell, I even pose most of the time. But it really should be a given: picture=rubbing of the Orso.

It occurred to me as I pondered the bold photographers that my blog would also be an excellent way to communicate my desires to the public. Let me take this moment to clear up any confusion:

1. I like to be rubbed, a lot.

2. I like to be rubbed especially on my backside.

3. I will take a treat thank you very much.

4. My barking is to tell you to stop the talking and start the rubbing.

In the 6 years of my life, I have met thousands of people through my travels and my fame. I have been in the paper twice. Last spring I was in a production of Camelot as Horrid. This increased my local fame dramatically. Along the way, people who are interested try to remember or write down "bergamasco" so that they may look it up later. Well, now, folks, here it is. You wanted more of me and I am prepared to share.

The Journey Begins

A dog's journey is one of friendship, of learning, of olfactory exploration, of treats, and of love. My life is not so different from any other dog's; I walk, I sniff, I eat, I spread my scent, I enjoy a good rest on a couch now and then. Somehow, though, I am living a different sort of life than the average good dog. I've been across the country 3 times. I have rolled in sand on the beautiful beaches of San Diego, Redwood Park, Nova Scotia, New Jersey, New England. I have explored the forests of New Hampshire, Oklahoma, the Adirondaks, New Mexico, Rocky Mountains, Tahoe, and more. I have slept in the great outdoors, resting my nose on the gentle, cool breezes. I have spread my weary bones on the elegant rugs of bed and breakfasts, of romantic inns, of scent-rich Super 8's.


You might think that all this travel would be stressful, even for a dog in his prime. At times, I'll admit, right before leaving on a trip, I feel an excitement bordering on anxiety. But then, once in my back seat, a joy settles in my soul. It isn't that I love being in the car. I'm not one of those to jump at the word, "ride." Instead, mine is a love of the adventure itself - the wondering - is this a long trip or a trip to one of my usual jaunts? - will this be an all day affair? In any case, for me, the car is the gateway to my exploration of a universe filled with interesting people, beautiful wooded trails, and a rich life.


This blog will be a travel journal of sorts; a diary of my journeys large and small. I'm hoping to include pictures of the people I meet and the stunning sights I witness. Let's face it, I'm unique and people tend to want to know more about me. This will give my fans a way to understand my breed. It will give my friends a way to more deeply relate to me and understand the enormity of my journey.