Dear Spring

Dear Spring,

I do enjoy a nice sunny day, just like anyone else. The issue is that you are followed so soon by the one I don't like, the one who keeps me begging for air conditioning, the one who keeps me indoors, you know, Summer. What I would suggest is that you do your sunshine and brining up the flowers thing, but with maybe some longer extension into June. And no one will mind if you deliver one or two more snowstorms. That way you don't have to that big long week of rain you usually spring for (pun intended).

You see, Spring, Bergamascos are cold weather lovers. We can't help it. We enjoy a freezing cold, sunny, dry January day. I really love a frozen, packed bunch of snow to roll on. My sister gets so excited by fresh piles of snow to bury her face in. This year, I even went out cross country skiing with Mom.

I propose a compromise. Show the humans a few crocuses and budding daffodils. Give them some sun. But, how 'bout you keep the temps more in the Berga comfort range? We're totally happy with the 40-50 degree range, and the humans will just chalk it up to doomsday or global warming or whatever. What do you say?

Love,

Orso

Bergamasco Jokes 101

Question: Why did the Bergamasco cross the road?

Answer: Because he has always crossed the road in that exact spot every time he came there. It was the right thing to do.

Knock knock.

Who's there?

Dog with flocks.

Dog with flocks? What? Who?

Bergamasco.

Berga what?

Italian sheepdog.

Oh. Are you supposed to look like that?

Sigh.

A Bergamasco, a Lab, and a Greyhound go into the grocery store. Question: Who actually accomplishes the shopping?

Answer: None of them. The lab starts chasing an apple that someone has thrown for him a few times. The Greyhound sees the store as an elaborate race track and creates a start and finish line. The Bergamasco is not feeling the food at the store that day and wonders what else there might be at another store.

Question: Where can you find a Bergamasco making a tough decision?

Answer: Between a flock and a hard place.

Question: What's black and white and brown all over?

Answer: A Bergamasco fresh from rolling in a pile of leaves.

Question: How many Bergamascos does it take to change a light bulb?

Answer: Well...

One Bergamasco says, "Hmm, nice and dark, my people are at work, couch is calling my name... Nap time!"

Another Bergamasco says, "I would change the light bulb, but I believe the wiring is not up to code. Wiring is a job for someone like a border collie."

Another Bergamasco says, "Get the lab to do it. He's just begging to do something useful."

Another Bergamasco says, "First, I will clock in to work. Second, I will round up all available light bulbs and get them in the room. Third, I will bark until the light bulb replaces itself."

Another Bergamasco says, "Woof, replace the bulb, human. Woof, replace the bulb, human. Woof."

A Bergamasco walks into a bar.

Bartender: "What'll ya have buddy?"

Bergamasco: "I'll just take a beer."

Bartender: "Here ya go." (hands him a beer)

Bergamasco: Sniffs beer. Walks away from beer then back to the beer. "Ummm....?"

Bartender: "Something wrong with that?"

Bergamasco: "I don't suppose you could maybe put... something...oh I don't know...something yummy on top? Maybe a little turkey?"

Bartender: "Whatever guy. If that gets you to drink the beer, fine. Have some turkey."

Bergamasco: Sniffs beer. Considers turkey. Takes a bite of turkey. Then walks away from bar and back again. "Ummmm....?"

Bartender: "That's not doing it for ya?"

Bergamasco: "Maybe a little bacon on top too? I think that will do it."

Bartender: "Fine have some bacon."

Bergamasco: Sniffs beer. Considers bacon and turkey. Judges bartender as a typical human and continues this process until he has cheese puffs, a donut, more turkey, and a hamburger.

Seriously Nore? Hrrumph!

Yeah, so that's Breton in the picture. Guess what he's doing? We were driving him home from Dad's sister's house after a day of chillin' with the family, and Ayla and I were just falling asleep. Then out of nowhere, this guy crawls up on my back, stumbles around to get comfortable and falls asleep up there. I didn't move or growl or anything. I wasn't going to be rude. But I'm thinking, "What the what?"

Nore (Dad's mom) brought the little guy home over the summer. He's just a kid really, and our Kid really likes to play with him. We've gone out walking with him a few times, and all of that is cool. It's just that, well, Nore and I have this bond. She's sort of, mine. I help her garden, she gives me cookies, we get each other. Now, she has Breton. Does she really need me anymore? Is one fluffy face at home enough for one woman?

I don't know. He's awfully young and can't possibly be as mature and responsible as me. Maybe Nore has room for both of us in her life, but, well, we'lll see.

Alright, I can admit this to you, dear readers. Once he got comfortable on my back for his nap, I sort of started to notice that he was kind of sweet and warm up there. And clearly, he looks up to me. Maybe I can take care of him and Nore. Ah, the tireless work of being a Bergamasco. Sigh.

A Walk To Restore Sanity

You have surely seen those dogs around. You know the ones, barking loudly and aggressively out of a car window. Or maybe they ran back and forth skirting the edge of what you hope is a secure electric fence. Or it may have been the other kind of those dogs, walking in a perfect heel alongside his "master." Perhaps it was a dog up on her tip toes, dancing for a tasteless cookie.

Are you, instead, the kind of dog that thinks pointless, angry barking is annoying? Do you think any requests from our people should be followed with a solid explanation? Do you hear your people calling you and think maybe you should run right over there and then say to yourself, "Nah, they can wait?" Then we want you! That's right, you! A dog who is both rational and contemplative. A dog who will wait for a very good reason before doing things. A dog who is not a run out in the rain dog, but is instead a wait for an easy, perfect weather dog. That's right, you, a Bergamasco.

October 30 we will walk in East Greenwich. The date has no significance. It's not even close to the date we had a meet-up last year. It will not be a day to see who is the loudest dog. It will not be a race. No one will win anything. No public opinions will be swayed. It's a day for you, a dog with a life. A dog who sleeps, goes out for walks, eats dinner, and herds kids or sheep or cats or no one at all.

Weather permitting of course (our people may choose to meet anyway if it rains, but we will wage silent, polite protests from the car). We will shop a little, walk a little, then sleep in our cars while our people pay other people to serve them food.

Talk to Mom about the details. By the way, I think some guy in DC wants to do a people version of this.

Soundscapes, the Yanni Experiment

Mom thinks she is supremely clever. She has been playing "Soundscapes" a sensitive, new age music station on our cable tv when we are at home without them. During the day, Ayla and I are now doing Reike, meditating, creating guided visualizations, and developing mantras. I started to feel a little angry the other day because the dog across the street was barking himself silly, but then I just let the anger come and go like the waves on the ocean.

I used to get really into barking with Mom and Dad came home. As soon as the car was in the driveway, I would get the greeting barks going. How else would they know I was happy to see them? I see now that my emotions were carrying me and exploding out instead of being my personal experience to share or not to share. Why should I bark when I can quietly feel my joy and express it to them with a simple wagging tail?

I overheard Mom saying she was experimenting to see if playing soothing music would get us to quiet down during the day and bark less. Is that how it is? Do we seem so simple? I could get annoyed by this, but I think the Whale Song is on now.

It's Getting To Be That Time

I'm hoping that as you gaze upon the beauty of this scene, you don't notice that a few pounds from the lazy days of summer have remained with me. You see, friends, it was just so hot. And I really love the air conditioning, and lounging on my bed. Then there were the clam bakes and the barbecues. Folks were kind enough to toss a bit of lobster my way. I never turn down a nice piece of salmon. Burgers were great this year on some back porches. And then, also, vacations happened. When we're on the road, there is nothing like a Wendy's hamburger fed to you while you are lounging in the car.

Now, though, it is September. The mornings have had that little bit of crispness. The chilly air is nudging me out of my comfy bed, and making me think it might be time to get back in shape and get out hiking again. Or perhaps, like Mom, I will hit the snooze button, turn over in my coziness, and wait just a little longer.

Besides, Jeanine said my extra chunk was sexy!

The Dog Days of Summer

For the record, summer is not the favorite season of a Bergamasco. For one, it's too hot. Also, we don't get to ride around in the car as much. We don't go out hiking whenever we want. And, also, it's too hot. On the plus side, there are moments like the one my friend, Jaye, captured in this photo. A sweet spot of shade on a breezy porch at a vacation house.

You may have noticed Maya in the background, peering out at me from the screen door. I know what you are thinking - "Oh look, isn't she cute!" or "Oh, she wants to come out and play on the porch too!" or as you really look, you start to think, "Boy I bet she's hungry, maybe I should give her all the food she wants." This is how she works. She lures you in with her sweet smile and floppy ears, and soon, you are offering your full food bowl to her. She is also mind controlling Jaye, sending thoughts like, "Why are you out there taking pictures of that oversized, lazy, flocky porch-loving dog when you could be in here, worshiping me and giving me snacks?"

I don't fault Maya for her powers. We have been friends a long time now. She can have my food bowl and my treats. And in return, I am allowed to hike with her, camp with her, and worship her always.

Om shanti woof

I've discovered a new passion for.... yoga. It may look like I just love a comfy yoga mat, but this is a picture of me doing doggie modified Makarasana (Crocodile pose). Recently, mom pulled up the green rug (MY green rug) because I guess one rug can only handle so much from a couple years of pets. She then put down a yoga mat to do exercises on and after watching her on the mat, I figured I should try it.

So now, I'm doing restorative poses on the yoga mat for pretty much 8-10 hours a day. I think I am really getting good at relaxing into the pose. My routine thus far includes walking in a circle on the mat a few times (Dog Circle Pose), practice scratching the mat with your front paws (Dog Nesting Pose), stretch yourself out on the mat (Dog Nap Pose), and when you get really exhausted from your intense yoga workout, lie on your back with all four paws in the air (Dog Savasana). Finally, let out a nice loud sigh, releasing all the stress (Dog Om).

I'm thinking about giving dog yoga classes here in the living room. You will have to bring your own mat of course, because this one is all mine.

New Year's Thoughts

Many of my fans have asked me, "What is your New Year's resolution, Mr. Orso?"

It's difficult to say for sure what changes I will bring to my life this year. You may have noticed that Bergamascos tend to have one plan for the day and stick to it. We are not so big on CHANGE.

Recently, I developed a new sleeping spot in the bedroom. After years of doorway sleeping, I just got tired of waiting for The Kid to move or to get out of my spot. I don't think she is that attached to doorway sleeping so much as she is attached to taking over. So in this case, I acquiesced. I established a new spot at the foot of the bed. Now, however, I often have to remind Mom to make appropriate space there. Once there, though, I don't move. At all. For anything. It's a good spot. See? I can be flexible, sort of.

What changes would I make in my personality? I know Mom would like me to bark a little less when I'm excited about stuff. Last weekend, we had a Bergamasco gathering in RI, and I barked all day. It was awesome. I don't think I would change anything there. I love barking. And I'm so good at it. Last night, outside in the yard, during random fireworks in the neighborhood, I was able to continuously bark while also going to the bathroom. It's a skill, people.

Other changes? Dad would probably like me to be a little less "stubborn" - as he calls it. I can be very focused and single-minded. I can see how this quality could be mistaken for stubborn, but I think it's part of my intellect, my strength of keeping order in our house. I guess maybe it's a little stubborn when I refuse to leave the porch to go out when it's inclement weather. But let's face it, a wet Bergamasco is not the most pleasant smell - maybe I know best here. What do you think?

So perhaps instead of resolutions, it is better to set intentions for the new year. I intend to be the most loving family member I can be, to be a good role model for The Kid, to fully enjoy every minute of couch time, to savor my cookies, and to use my mental telepathy powers to get more people to give me turkey and rub my bum. I think it will be a very good year.

The Precious

It's a time to be thankful. For turkey. It's a time of giving. Turkey. It's a time for gathering with family. And eating turkey. It's a time to celebrate the harvest. And ignore all vegetables in favor of turkey.

I remember my first turkey like it was yesterday. I was a young pup, new to my family. All day I smelled it slowly cooking for me. It was the smell of heaven, of home, of the hunt. When it was out of the oven, I stayed very close to it all day, worshiping it for its glorious deliciousness. I slept there on the floor beside the counter upon which it rested, paying it the homage it deserved.

I am thankful this year for my family. I am not some jumpy, needy beast begging at the table for scraps. Instead, I rest easy on holidays, knowing my share is coming.

What about the kid you ask? Well, Ayla's stomach does not do well with the precious. She is allowed a tiny bite but most of the meat is given to me. Only to me. All for me. I am not usually this sort of dog who brags, hoards, savors. But you must understand, it's different with turkey.

I wish you all a Happy Turkey Day! Remember, it is a day of sharing.

P.S. Send all leftovers to me, care of Mom.

clarification post

If you received my last post as an email, you missed the exciting poll at the end. So hopefully, you are now getting this as another email and can go to the actual blog and participate in the exciting poll.

Misunderstood

My bark is something that sounds simple but encompasses a complexity that you may miss upon first witnessing. I am talking to you. Yes, you.

I don't know how I can more clearly express what is so obvious.

People are always stopping to ask about what kind of dog I am. I answer them and they pay no attention to me. I literally lie down in front of people and tell them to pet me, but they don't get it. I've noticed that humans are disabled in their sense of smell. Perhaps you are also hard of hearing?

I guess if humans understood telepathy I wouldn't have to bark. I look at you, I think my thoughts, you misunderstand, and so I bark.

So I think this video is a perfect example of the clarity of my vocalizations. But you, my fan, can decide for yourself.

(If you are receiving this via email, you need to go to the real blog for the poll.)

poll by twiigs.com

See? Someone Has Been A Computer Hog

You've all been begging for more posts, and believe me, I have lots to say these days. But, SOMEONE thinks she should be the one on the computer. She has a facebook page. She twitters. She IM's with her sister Anthea. She's proficient with language like ROFL, LOL, IDK and of course, IABTW ("I'm a Bergamasco, That's Why"). I think she even has a My Space page but I haven't been able to find it. It's teen angst for sure. I know Mom sees the problem as she took away Ayla's computer time today for stealing my bully stick and burrying it in the couch.

Sure, we play, we tug, we chase, but she crossed a line the other night. That's right, everyone's favorite girl puppy is not as cute as she once was thought to be.

It was a quiet and rainy evening. Suppers were finished. The sun had set. People were on computers. I had just enjoyed a lovely chew session with a bully stick. Ayla was on the couch with Mom, and there was just the right size bit of room left on the couch for a flocky dog like myself. As I put two paws up on the couch, The Kid attacked me with full on teeth and growling. I had no idea she was guarding a bully stick on the couch.

I didn't go up on the couch for two days. I guess I can forgive her but it's, well, it's my couch.

I don't know if I chose the most manly dogly response here. I guess Mom intervened a little. What would you do? Thoughts?

Once By The Ocean

If instead of a dog, I were but a pebble on the sand,
I'd be cleansed in the bath of the ocean's gentle hand
The days would pass in my quiet contemplation,
I would lose myself in rhythmic meditation

The ocean would wake me with whisper and song
And tell me the stories of when her waters were strong

I would be just a pebble but a part of much more
A stone on the sand, a guardian of the shore

A life in the sand, in the sun, with a job but still free

A flockless existence as a shepherd of the sea

I would be understood, this yearning of my soul

I would be just a pebble, free to roll, free to roll

Can You Believe This Guy?

Um. Excuse me? Pindaro? Um. That's my couch. And my Mom. And by the way, that's my couch. And, in case you think you are a Bergamasco who can ignore the rules and order that give our lives meaning, dogs are only allowed on the other side of the couch where the towels are. I know Mom is just being polite, helping you to feel welcome, but come on buddy. We've all noticed you slowly moving in. You came to visit when you were just a tiny squirt , and I excused your antics because you were a puppy and everything. And now, well, technically, you are still a puppy, and maybe I should be lenient, and those sad puppy eyes are killing me. I mean, do you really have to look at everyone like that? Like this:

I do get it. A dog in these times has got to work whatever charms he has to impress the ladies, but could you maybe do your snuggle fest sad eyes routine back in CT?

The Kid, The Snow, and The Coat

Ayla has taken to things such as these: coats, snow storms, puddles.... What can I do? I tell her, "Run! They are getting out the rain coats! We are not Morton Salt Dogs! We are Bergamascos! We have no need for such things! We do not go out of doors in inclement weather!" But, alas, she is infinitely sweet. Her reply is more like, "Oh, what? I have my very own coat? How lovely! I like my coat. Oh, it's snowing? How nice! I like snow. Oh, we're walking through puddles and mud today? How wonderful! I like puddles." Watch out fellow Bergs, she's blowing our cover. Our control is slipping away in the paws of a youngling. Soon, our people will think we should submit to baths, to being dried with a towel, to going to bathroom in inclement weather, to getting out of the car when we are very comfortable, and *gasp* going anywhere we don't really want to go on a leash of all things. Ugh, kids today.

A Running Mate With Her Nose Pressed Against the Glass Ceiling

My friends, it is with great excitement and respect that I announce my running mate, your next vice president, Ayla Del Albera. She is a young woman but in her short life, she has seen much and understands the struggles facing Americans today.

Unlike her opponents, Ayla is very Pro-Cat and has consistently voted for resolutions supporting a Cat's right to dominate a household. In fact, when considering accepting the opportunity to run for VP, she consulted her senior cat, Misty, for her approval. Misty admittedly could not be bothered with such trivialities but consented that she would not really approve of anyone else in that position anyway. Anna was unavailable for comment as she was in silent meditation in a brown paper bag.

Like myself, Ayla is ready to work hard to win the support of Americans and be a strong representation of The Herding Party values. Ayla is aware of the growing threat of the Squirrel problem. In fact, she can see them from her house.

I know you are wondering if she really has the executive experience required to be my vice or to be the president if required. My friends, Ayla has been around the block. She knows which streets have the meanest dogs. She can judge the proverbial weather. And, she, like myself, knows well enough that when the rain comes, stay inside. Stay inside.

I invite you to get to know Ayla over these next weeks. I think you will see that together we are the sheepdogs to bring the change this country desperately desires, like a bag of treats on the dining room table.

An Unexpected Candidate Throws His Flock in the Ring

"He was born in a small town in Pennsylvania, the son of single mother who fell in love with an Italian man when she was visiting extended family in Italy. She struggled to raise two strong sons, supported by her family. His mother instilled in him a clear work ethic, a loving character, and a desire for leadership.

"After he left home, he spent time in rural NY, developing an appreciation for the struggle of farmers and an understanding of small town values. From there, he lived in NM where he gathered insight into the Native American plight and witnessed the effects of dwindling resources such as fresh water.

"His journey took him back to New England for greater learning and growing. It was here that his intellectual pursuits blossomed and he began to study politics, with the hope of one day affecting greater change in his world.

"He became a strong force for the Herding Party, leading rallies and peaceful demonstrations. He became the clear voice for sheepdog principles. He became someone to herd us into times of peace. He will herd us into a good shady spot and protects us all there.

"Is he change you can support? Yes. Does he put his herd first? Yes, of course. Does he believe in equal rights for shitzus and newfoundlands alike? Yes. He supports nationalizing veterinary care, increased support for shelters, the elimination of kill shelters, and the protection of more free running nature space. He supports all dog's right to choose: kibble, canned, or homecooked.

"In the next few weeks, this blog will document this exciting campaign. I encourage you to watch our candidate choose his running mate, meet with the people, and speak out against injustice. He's not just anyone running for office, he's Orso, our Orso. Orso, the next President of the United States of America, a sheepdog for all of us."

--------A biography of Orso provided by The Herding Party

My name is Orso and I approve this message.

A Romp With the New Kid In The Extendo Family

There's a new squirt around these days but thankfully not in our house.

Our friends, Jeanine and Calem (where Ayla came from), got a new puppy named Pindaro. It's summer and the adventures are many these days as Dad is home everyday. Oh that reminds me...

To put to rest the age old question: "Orso, aren't you hot in the summer with all that hair?" It's 92 degrees, do you want to run around and play in the sun at 2 in the afternoon? Every dog, cat, human, and critter alike is hot in the summer. We're mammals! It's summer! It's New England! Yes, dammit, I am hot in the summer but so are you! It's not the hair, it's summer. I keep trying to convince Mom to move us further north but alas... At least we will vacation in Nova Scotia where there is a fine front porch and a cool river breeze.

Ok, I'm done now. Had to get that out.

So anyway, Pindaro was just a tiny squirt - we met up with them at some cool woods in CT called Old Furnace. I did not see an old or new furnace anywhere but the parking lot appears to be a random meet-up spot for all things shady in western CT. But the woods were nice and shady in a good way. Pindaro was totally overwhelmed at first, just sitting and watching, afraid of Mom, Dad, Ayla and me. Then he got his confidence up and really enjoyed himself. I think he knew I was in charge. It was pretty clear that I was the only adult dog as Ayla dug herself a great big hole in the side of creek and flopped down in the muddy water. These are things only a puppy would do. She and her sister Anthea seemed to really enjoy each other and enjoy being muddy and wet.

I'm sort of getting the hang of being the wise older Berg, guiding the young and flockless. Someday, they will have both the hair and manner of true Bergamasco. For now, I am learning to appreciate the fluff balls and even tug a stick or two with them.