Humphrey (2010-04-22): My dear dear Shie, I have overheard the intricate and rolling sounds of Kim and Colin who spoke of your pup and how all was not well. Then they spoke of how with industry and love you cared for the little one and now she resides in your cave with you and the man who eats a tremendous amount. The great dog has shone a light on you, and in its cast you most probably have seen in yourself capacities that a few moons ago you would not have imagined to exist. We have a saying that a mountain constantly knows and constantly forgets its spring flowers. It does not travel well in translation. Perhaps it is enough to say that gifts emerge corresponding to the season in which we find ourselves. I write to you tonight Shie because I have found myself in another season altogether. My hips have lost their capacities and one of my legs is stiff with the stone disease. I am in constant pain, Shie. And I think it is best to howl once more, across the many caves, to you. When the moon was in its full wane some time back Colin and Kim and the pups Nathaniel and Luke drove up to the mountains, and there I met the bitch I'm so fond of, she who is named Calle. Oh did we run and forage! But these pleasures grew terrible in my joints, and after a few blinks of the great dog's eye I could no longer walk. Colin had to lift me from the circle-shape legged transport, in whose rumbling belly I sometimes lie. He had to coax me to the tree outside our cave. I had no appetite for food. Soon they began to feed me a delicious substance - Shie, have you ever heard of peanut butter? It is delicious on the tongue but it adds a terrible drowsiness and soon I was lurching about like a goat who had descended to the orchards to feast on the fallen apples. In my state I was terrified of the pups who ran around and over me, and I could not lift my head, as it felt like a great boulder and the floor of the cave the soft ground. After a time I recovered and for some blinks of the Great eye you could not imagine how wonderful it was to prance about, and Colin and Kim admired my stride, and a certain heaviness lifted from the looks they held me with. But soon my legs began to stiffen again, despite the peanut butter, and I was once again in a great deal of pain. And the murmurings of my master's began to take on ominous tones, and I knew the ritual had begun. In the mountains, once an old dog cannot hunt, there is a time where he is given his portion, out of dignity and respect. But this extends only so far, and soon it is the old dog's responsibility to sneak off into the night, find a ravine and lie down in the presence of all of his memories and the creator. And in some occasions he is set upon by wolves and in others he is taken by thirst and hunger, but in all cases it is proper and what he endures is seen with pleasure by the Great Dog. Shie I knew many moons ago that it was time to steal away but I do not have this choice, and I admit to you that it has been humiliating to hobble about as one does who is past his due but is scared of seeing the Dog's eye in all of its fantastical colours. So this week I began not to eat, and I have not eaten for days, and I am lightheaded but feel that such is an honourable endurance in the face of things to come. It will be seen as honourable in the revealed eye. And all of my memories Shie will burn up in the colours of the eye and by transmitted for a full season on the winds for those with the gifted ear to listen to and recount at appropriate moments. All of my seasons, all of my moons, all of the loss and terror and joy will drift off like the pollen of the fields. And my body will join the mountain again, and flowers will grow on my back, and perhaps, if I'm considered worthy, a tree. I do not mean to be dramatic - you know I am sometimes capable of such a stance. I simply needed to speak to you this last time, and to tell you of the great joy your small barks gave to my heart. I will never see your pup, but she will be spirited, I am sure. Spirited with an appetite. As I said, usually we sneak off to embrace those radiant beams. I wanted to howl one more time for you. I wanted you to read and hear the echo of my call. I wanted you to know how cherished you are in my heart, and what an honour it was to know and call back and forth to you. Take care, my spirited friend! And feed your pup and also the man who eats a tremendous amount. I have always admired his energy. Live a long and happy life! And in all seasons, howl, Shie, howl! Your friend, Humphrey

Humphrey (2009-05-27): My Dear Friend Shie, Oh what a time it's been! Kim birthed another litter, again a rather dismal solitary pup, but no matter, it is not the number of pups but the amount of dog that counts, as we used to say. I must say Shie that this has been a peaceful time, as I decided to move to the den of the mother of Kim. Frankly, it is much more to my style...her den is carved from a cliff face that provides a view of the hill we are so found of and that sometimes I imagine to be my ancestral home only viewed from very far away (to account, you see, for the size difference). My mind is clear. My fur has its lustre back. My teeth are sharp. My tail is up. Shie! I have never been a good pack animal. I have always, truth be told, felt a stranger in the midst of too many. Surely with your strange concoctions of images from your head placed onto the walls of the dens of others you know the feeling of not liking people very much. I am of the same disposition Shie and I think this is why we speak so well together. I have just stolen over to Colin's house for a time, but the mother of Kim has taken the pups for a hunt and Kim is asleep, producing milk, and I am alone and finally able to speak freely. I like being alone Shie. I like to sleep and I like to exist as the sole heir of attention. I admit it! As you spend much of your time with the man who eats a tremendous amount, so much that even I Humphrey was impressed with the capacity of his stomach, thinking to myself, surely his belly will split, surely there will be no more room, and he will have to lie on the ground and doze and risk having mountain goats wake him liking the pieces of undigested meat from his jowls (they are known to do this) and this only in the first hour of his great eating. Even so, that he eats a tremendous amount cannot be the reason you are with him. It must be that he is very adoring of you and howls sometimes at the moon to impress you and romps around without furless so as to show the great girth of his belly. When I arrived at my new den I slept for three winks of the great dog's eye, I was so fatigued by being nipped, riden and teased by the pup. I eat now like a king. There is a finer breed of dog in these parts, I don't mind telling you. They can sense a well bred mountain dog, they know my lineage, my history. They speak, in effect, my language, Shie. It is pleasant here and I am pleased with myself and my surroundings. And yet when I see Colin, I think, yes, here you are, old friend, old master. And so soon I have to leave him. I feel his absence in the core of my bones, my dear friend. Oh if only the pups had not come! Oh Shie, I do hope to see you. Your small frame is always pleasant to lean upon. Take care my firen, I am too upset to tap out this letter to any further extent. May the great Dog bless you and your well spirited companion, may you not be strangers in your heart, may each of your hearts be the den of the other's howling. My best, Humphrey

Humphrey (2008-03-01): My dear friend Shie, Ah what a season! With each day comes new blessings. The snow has now reached the porch, as Colin has decided (wisely, I might add) to allow the snow to fall where it may, and not redistribute it by means of some large silver paw that now sits idle. After the first snows, you could not imagine the industry with which he tunneled through the snow. Hours of digging. Now, he seems content to squeeze through the gate that can only open a dog's width. But I bark across the snow-blessed expanse to inquire after your health. I worry about you in this season. Many a night when I'm basking in the blind eye's gaze, and my breath comes out in clouds so impressive and full, as if from the Great Dog's very mouth, I ponder the fact that you would not survive for two minutes in similar circumstance. And I wonder if it changes the spirit of humans, to know they are not fit for what the Great Dog has made, that they must, in effect, manufacture their existence, that they cannot simply live with striving as his chosen creations can do. You can imagine that the open end of the cave is my only place of rest, as the pup is now increasingly able to move about on four legs. Fast he is now, and stealthy, like a mountain cat. I am an old dog Shie, I enjoy my naps, but many of them are unpleasantly interrupted by the pup slapping my face or pulling my whiskers, biting my ears, or putting my paws in his mouth. Many times I've awoken from dreams thinking that a herd of goats has mistaken my coat for pasture, only to wake to the pup crawling atop me. And what can I do? All I can do is look at Colin beseachingly, and very often he says, "good, patient dog," which is, I admit, a consolation, but I have seen a new glint in his eyes, and in that glint is the reflection of my undoing if I were ever to so much as give the pup a helpful snip on his backside, as all pups warrant from time to time. He has changed Shie into a man who would kill. Of course, this only enhances his already noble bearing, his kingly aura. But still, I have stayed close to him, expressing my devotion in all aspects of our daily life. Whenever I get him alone I am generous with my attention, almost too much, as he invariably says, "what's with you, settle down." I only wish to say I love you master. And when he is with the pup and Kim, I stay at a respectful distance. The pup to his great credit understands my plight and feeds me all types of delicious foods. Pray tell, Shie, have you ever heard of cheerios? Kim hunts for them regularly, and, truly, they can make an old dog's day when fed to him by a young pup, who, despite all things, I love deeply. I hope this finds you well, my friend. Come to see all of us soon, perhaps when the mountains of snow do not frighten you as much, and the climate is more temperate, and easier to manage for your two small legs. Your greatest admirer, Humphrey

Humphrey (2007-12-17): My dear friend Shie, Many times in the past days have I laughed at the idea of you walking through this great blessing of a storm! You would be buried like so many of those hard and foul smelling beasts that the Great Dog has seen fit to humiliate: where are your round and tremendously fast legs now, he might as well say to them, although I would never claim to know His thoughts. Yes, I have laughed but I have also worried. It seems to me that this would be difficult for you. I know you are a human of fine spirit, but perhaps you are also skulled like a goat, if I may use an old saying. Do not undertake a long hunt on some foolhardy attempt to prove something. There is no need to impress me. I'm sure there are difficult situations where you are from that I would consider uncomfortable as well. For instance, baths. I would not take a bath to impress you, my dear friend, so please don't go roll in the blessing, lest it become a curse, if you see what I mean. But all this to say that I have been thinking of you, and hoping that this fine weather has brought you close to your mate, who appears sometimes like he might not even notice the storm around his head. Do not let him wander far! My best to you on this most fine night, Your friend, Humphrey

Shie (2007-06-29): Dear Humphrey The beginning of this month, there was the St-Viateur street festival. I almost called you so that we could meet up since you lived very close from it. Then, I realized that it was your big moving day. Now, the month is ending soon. How are you liking your new house? well, you call it a "cave"? It sounds like a fun place! You can grow some flowers and have a BBQ in your garden. Very soon Nathaniel will start running freely outside of the cave. The pig tail passage going one level to the other seems very exciting and is something I would definitely love to experience one day. It is good for you too, you know, for your daily exercise, and to stimulate your forgotten but real "mountain dog" gene. This famous Japanese man(Keizo Miura) who was over 100 years old, he still spent half a year in the mountains skiing. His philosophy of being healthy is in order to be able to do what you love to do. Some of his tricks being well and healthy were drinking green tea, but he would grind the leaves and drink the whole thing, cooking fish with a pressure cooker and eat the bone and everything, and he would go for a walk everyday with weights on his legs. There are a lot more tricks, but I will need to study his books. Anyway, I hope you are doing well in this hot weather, maybe you got a bit of hair cut by chance? We'll see each other soon, XX

Humphrey (2007-05-02): My dear friend Shie, Please to not cry on my behalf. I feel more dog than ever before. A dog without a purpose is not a dog. The pup is growing quite fast now and is beginning to make sounds that resemble barks. Colin has begun to howl with him, but I have not yet joined in. Colin is mighty in his own regard but his howls are pitiful, and I worry he'll become sore that I've upstaged him. Still, it has been many moons since I've had a good howl. The moon's light for the past few nights has come right into our cave. I can watch the pup through the bars of its bed when Colin and Kim are sleeping. This is the glow of the dog's blind eye, a sign of good fortune. I admit, though, Shie, that with my assumption of responsibility and work, I have come to recognize in myself a degree of uncertainty about all of the stories of the Great Dog. This is not to say I don't believe the Dog exists. I have heard such talk, and find it ridiculous, and frankly, arrogant. Perhaps even small minded. I feel though that if we were to look up into the Great Dog's lair, the sky, and see the clouds travelling by, and focus on the clouds alone, we would be missing something of his majesty. To say the stories are true or untrue is just so much licking testicles. The possibility that they are true is enough for me, and as a simple dog, if from a noble lineage, I cannot pass judgment. However, and here I get to the point, as Kim frequently says to Colin, if we were to say that the clouds were like our stories (our superstitious, I know one yappy bitch down the block, would say), then to focus too much on the clouds, to guide our entire lives by the clouds, would amount to a day-to-day existence without ever understanding the unity of the cloud's container, the sky. To believe or not believe in the Great Dog is as silly as saying the clouds do exist, the clouds do not exist. Who knows, but their appearance has been cause for a tremendous amount of strife. The clouds, all we know of them, appear, and that is all we can say for sure. To say there are no clouds is as ridiculous as saying the clouds are the only thing that is important in the sky. A true spiritual journey begins when one understands that the clouds are part of the sky, but that the sky is greater, greater than our thoughts and emotions, greater than ourselves. Now some would say without the clouds there is nothing, and I believe it might feel like that to some people. The emptiness of the sky without clouds worries many dogs. But emptiness to me is also limitlessness. So when I acknowledge that I am growing old, do not pity me. I'm only preparing for my redistribution into the limitless of the Great Dog that is not really a dog but a limitless everything, and in death I will be just as much a part of Him as I am now, balancing on my forelegs, patiently tapping out this message to you. Strange how hard work can be of such use, can change the very representation of the firmament! We dogs, for many generations, have been cast in the role of counselors, supporters, entertainers, but in truth we are industrious, and it feels like I am growing to a new understanding, and also returning to a familiar state, even though I have never before felt like this. Shie, I feel as if my bones were suddenly howling with ancient songs. Now off to the pup, who is rising from his revelations, and has begun to squawk (somewhat like a bird, I'm forced to admit) for his mother's teets. Good day, and enjoy the limitless blossoming that is happening around you and your mate. The blessings of the Great Dog be upon you, Humphrey

Humphrey (2007-04-14): My dear friend Shie, I am writing in the pause that comes with the young pup's visit to the Bitch's world, where each dog sees himself, but changed. Fortunately, Colin and Kim have joined him and so I have been able to say hello. The Great Dog fooled me this week, what a pleasure it was the final great snow! But this morning as we walked between the cliff-cave dwellings, Colin and I could not find a spot on snow deep enough to bury my droppings. Each year I become so accustomed to the infinite bed for my droppings that when the Great Dog pants and his saliva reveals the buried ground, I am at a loss as where to go. "Hurry up!" Colin has said a number of times. But he shouldn't speak: his droppings always find themselves in a container of what appears to be hardened snow, although it is not cold and it does not smell like snow. How would he feel if three or four moons of the year, this container suddenly melted into the floor? Wouldn't he become somewhat anxious? I'm licking my testicles, as we say, Shie, and so forgetting the important event that I have been waiting for ten suns to tell you of. Colin had gone off to hunt, and the pup was sleeping. The burning eye of the great Dog had closed, his blind one was opening. Kim was in the other room, tapping on these keys. I was in the dark room with the pup when I noticed that his breathing was not right. I listened carefully, head up from my bed, and then ran out to the hallway. Colin and Kim and i have a simple language with which we communicate. Stamping my feet means I need to drop my droppings (perhaps this is why I was speaking of my droppings so incessantly before). I usually do a one-two-three with my forelegs, and then crouch, and then spring up, as if to vault them from their seats. The pup not breathing well, I ran into the hallway and I one-two-threed. In most cases, my first attempts are ignored. "Do you need to go out?" Colin will stupidly ask (the Great Dog forgive me). "Yes. Yes. I say, the rivers of the mountains are pressing on my bone." And I do it again. Anyway, Kim did not see this but only heard my one-two-three, her back was to me, but she jumped up all the same, ran into the bedroom, grabbed the child and rushed him into the light. Here was the child, colour somewhat grey, and now vomiting a terrible amount onto his chest, as if he had been choking on the Bitch's Revelations. For some time, Kim cleaned him up, and then I suppose they both realized that the pup might have heard the call, and the pup began to wail (he wails like no other pup I've heard, suddenly I'm understanding of why my mother used to nip me) and the surprising thing was that now Kim began to wail, even though the pups colour had returned and everyone was safe. Only a few minutes later Colin arrived to a scene with Kim crying and the baby content, suckling. I took an appropriate distance, but after acts of consolation unique to humans - I'm sure you yourself have sometimes entered into these grapplings with the forelegs - Colin turned to me, and said, "You warned her." And before I knew it he was grappling me, his strong arms around my neck, speaking to me saying "rescue dog" and "special dog". Colin did not cry. Rather, I think that he refused to imagine what would have been if I hadn't been there. I myself would rather not think of it, and yet, as Colin said, "the boy is under a lucky star, to have two such beings protecting him." Since then, he has drawn me into his arms more than once, spoken to me in such kind tones, even when no one else is around. He holds the child and leaning down lets me sniff the top of its head. And yet, the strangest of things has happened, Shie. For I am finally beginning to feel my age. I have trouble with the climb up to our cave. Sometimes, Colin has to gently tug at me to get me started. When I rise from the Bitch's Sleep, I no longer race away. I need a few stiff steps. The winter is gone Shie, but the ice seems reluctant to leave my four legs. I am becoming an old dog. There is no doubt now. Perhaps the pup has shown me this, as after a long winter the first look in the clear lake is always a surprise. I am melancholy, as you can see, but surprisingly content about my place. Perhaps the Great Dog spared my youth, my ears and my legs, in order for me to be able to alert Kim to the pup in distress, and now that I've done this, I no longer need to be as youthful as before. But I am not dead yet, my friend, and since the incident, I have taken to lying by the child each time he goes down. I used to lie at Colin's feet for my own purposes, now I lie at his son's feet for a greater purpose. The Great Dog has shown me this way, and I intend to follow it until, perhaps, the Great Dog decides that the pup is safe. My love to you, Shie, and all of your loved ones, Humphrey

shie Kasai (2007-03-20): Dear Humphrey, Finally we are getting some more sun these days. I can walk through the mountain to come home after work. I am so glad how sunny still it is. In my apartment, I can sit by the window and see the sun slowly moving lower while typing a letter to you. Well, in fact I sit my back facing to the sun so that my back gets the last bit of sun heat, as it is still chilly. Tomorrow begins the spring. Although you have not heard from me for a while, I have been thinking of you a lot lately. Actually I have been trying to draw pictures of you, Humphrey. It's been quite difficult, to be honest. I think it is because of your fluffy and decorative hair. I know, I know, this is your charm and that's something you proud of the most! For my point of view, it hides your body structure and I can never tell if you are fat or skinny. Anyway, I definitely think you are a really good looking dog. I just need to practice drawing your hair more. The sun is starting to hide behind a building. I have to go now, Dac is preparing the supper and it is almost ready. See you soon, Yours, Shie

Shie Kasai (2007-01-28): Dear Humphrey It's great to hear from you and I apologize for my slow response. I feel like I'm hibernating. It's been really cold these days. Every morning, getting out of bed is a struggle as it is perfectly warm, comfortable, and my feet are dry. I dream of staying snuggled with my man forever; besides, it is too cold outside of bed in my typically plateau apartment, over 100 years old. This place is not very energy efficient. When I leave outside, I put too many layers of clothes and pants that restrain my body movement. I can not bend my arms completely. I open the front door and breath in the frozen air from my nose which wakes me up all too well. Going down the slippery stairs while holding the bar tight, I think of if I should try catching a bus or just walk all the way to work. My watch says I have roughly 8 minutes which means that I have to run like a moron to the bus stop. And if I miss it, there will not be another bus for at least 20 minutes. As I know I am late for work again, I decide to walk through the mountain. The sun is very bright on my eyes but I must hurry, there is no time to pause and take my sunglasses out from my backpack. I might freeze if I stop moving. The air is very fresh and calm. There are always dogs in the mountain. I simply enjoy passing them by with a silent hello. Once in a while, I encounter some friendly kinds of dogs. One morning, this most friendly one ran up to me with his tennis ball in his mouth, stopped, and dropped the ball in front of me. He was like the dog who won the final prize in the movie called "Best in Show", a norwich terrier. To respond to his playful gesture, I picked it up and threw it away. The tennis ball was very used, wet and gross. He chased his toy, picked it up and dropped it in front of me again. He would repeat this again and again. We played this game about ten times until his owner, an older gentle lady, finally caught up with him. She thanked me as and they continued in the opposite direction. That was a good start of a day. Oh, Humphrey, the other morning, I saw a younger version of you. He must have been less than 7 months old. His four legs looked way too thick for the body. His hair was still shorter and really fluffy looking. I imagine you were once like that. I wonder if you ever remember when being small. Do you ever look at old baby photos of yourself? Maybe the new baby can bring you back your forgotten self. Are you excited? happy? Dac and I will visit you guys once you are settled, keep warm! Yours, Shie

Humphrey (2006-09-25): My wonderous friend Shie, How much you joke! I am long past pup-hood! Stack ten pups atop one another and they would not reach my snout. Why Shie, if I were to stand on my hinds my paws could easily rest upon your shoulders and we could look at one another, eye to eye. But yes, the pup is coming. Many times I've sniffed Kim's round belly and I'm afraid to say it will be male. This, as you can imagine, is disastrous news. For at first the pup will be blind, its teeth will be small, and its only desire will be for the teets of its mother. But soon, shie, soon enough it will grow. It will learn to bark and then to bite. I'm not a young dog. My looks are deceitful. I get tired, and I'll admit to having not much time for these wonderous creations. They inspire too much delight for my stomach. In my old age the young dog will take pleasure in pulling my tail and hanging onto my jowls. I won't have any peace. Surely, I'll be loved, but at what physical cost? I have seen venerable dogs taken out by these man-pups in no more than a few moons. They are a good dog's blight Shie. I've decided not to eat these past few mornings. Colin hunts for a different sort of food for me now, and neither my tongue nor my guts have taken a liking to this new breed of food. "Eat your food," he says, and however much I wish to please him, a sniff of the stuff revolts me, or perhaps only leaves me unmoved. How I used to gobble! I would take the food from my bowl, and in my mouth hold it until I had found a safe place, and then relish in its devouring alone, in silence, as my ancestors would on the mountains. Now I can only look at him until he takes pity on me, and lets me lie by him as he pecks away on this computer. What is life worth if it is a life that will be replaced! I feel as the moon, once bright and round, full of light, and now forever waning, waning to a sliver of myself. A new moon risng Shie, a new face in the sky. Deep in the winter months, when all is quiet, when the snow makes the world shine, we'll have a new pup in the house. I hope that will not always be so melancholy about this event. Surely, Colin and I will become closer, as Kim deals with the pup. We will perhaps go hunting on our own, leaving mother and pup behind to do what it is they must do. Of wonderous event, to be on the hunt with the alpha, to be chosen for such a role! I'm so glad I was able to exchange a number of barks with you Shie. Rather than the death of a moon, this might be for me a new dawn! Even now, looking out the glass hole and walking along the hard paths between the cliffs, red and orange leaves are all around me; the trees' eyes are starting to shut. The snow is not in the air, but soon, Shie, soon, and what can one pup do to put a blight on such a magnificent event as the first snow, the first roll, the first dig of the winter yet to come! His mighty steps on the stairs, I must run! My best, Humphrey

Humphrey (2006-08-14): My friend Shie! It has been a long time since we exchanged pleasantries and sniffs. I do not know how your season of long days and shorts nights has been going. I have large and incredible news. I will no longer be bottom dog in the pack, as Kim is full with pups. For months I suspected, something in her smell was different, but now I am certain, and I couldn't be more pleased. Already her belly is taught and growing and each time I sniff for the pups I thank the Great Dog for such a blessing. Finally pups I can playfully nip and roll on their backs, show them the wonders of such a world. Of course, i will have to be careful that Kim does not take offence, and attack, fangs exposed. I will avoid the place in which she will lie down and let them tug at her teets. She will set up a den and even the mighty Colin will have to watch himself, as it is said that bitches are given the strength of the great Dog's first offspring, the raging rivers and great white mountains, to be able to protect their pups, and I cannot wait to witness this, as I hear from others it is a sight to behold. I will watch, then, from a distance, as blind and pure they reach and suckle and sleep under her watchful eyes. Surely Colin is proud of his efforts, and these I know will be mighty pups, as I'm sure I've mentioned he has immense strength and a fine noble character. He has made me nervous in these past days for he has taken to moving large things around the den, bracing them against his body and hoisting them in his first legs, oh what a sight it is. Then Kim walks in and in a series of soft barks convinces him to hoist the same thing back to where he has just lifted it, and then after another visit, hoist the same thing back again. Sometimes he stands with these large things in his first legs for what seems an eternity in the centre of the room as Kim looks back and forth to make a decision. I try to help by offering my back against his legs but he kicks me away. He has moved the rooms around, all, I suppose, in preparation for the pups. I'll admit Shie, to a certain anxiety over their arrival. Last night, just before dawn, I woke up Colin because of my pacing, but he soothed me, and soon I fell asleep. During this week, I have found myself frightened by the place where they prepare food, and have lost my appetite. At night, the wind tells me terrible things, that one of these pups will come to rule me, and it will be dominant, even as it is still slick from Kim's belly. Of course, this doesn't make sense, the world will have gone mad, but still the words haunt me. No, I'm not being perfectly honest: The wind says there will only be one, again, highly doubtful. Why must it torment me like this? For there is an old story that says that a bitch will one day give birth to just one pup, a first sign from the Great Dog that again he will soon walk the earth. Perhaps I will be able to tell this story, record the life of this pup so that others may know of the greatness. I cannot imagine such a thing, but again, the air of the whole world smells differently, and the trees, I don't mind telling you, are in a panic. The world seems on the brink of chaos and into this chaos only one pup will be born. Is it understandable now that I am losing my dreams, pacing the night away? And yet, Colin and Kim are very happy, and most days i see Colin growl into the star of Kim's belly. I have never seen anything like this, but it fills Kim with delight, and I suppose I'll admit to being soothed by the sight as well. For they are together, we are together, even in such uneasy times, and as an old saying goes, "As long as the night hears one dog call to the moon, the sun will light the world another day." My blessings Shie, in this uneasy but blessed time. Your friend, Humphrey

shie (2006-07-04): Dear Humphrey, I have been a hermit for the last few months and haven't contacted or seen not only you but many of my friends. Days seem to pass by so fast these days. I haven't been able to catch up with your writing. Just to refresh my memory, it was such a pleasant break for me when I went for a walk with you, a few weeks ago (already!), one Friday evening right after the long week of work. (Yes, I work at an office everyday, as I have to eat and pay my rent, like everybody else. For you, Humphrey, this might be a difficult concept to understand, but you are not missing out anything just because you don't go to an office. I imagine that being a good dog, like you, it is already a full-time job which requires some experience and skills. It can be even harder than my 9 to 5 job as you probably do not work for hours.) Anyway, walking along the train track, right after the rain stopped, the air still wet, it was really nice. Colin and Kim stood balancing on the track while you ate grass, yeah, I was concerned how much you were eating! I was hoping to see your wild side, running fast in a field, that was the exciting 10 seconds, then.... more grass. I hope you did not have an upset stomach afterward. And again, thank you for posing for the photo, I am sure that someone has told you this before but you are photogenic!

Humphrey (2006-06-04): Hello Shie! Well, we are now in the peak of the summer, and this coat isn't helping my sanity. Days are long but my favorite time is in the morning, when Colin gets up early after the strange bird calls. sOmetimes colin slaps it very hard, and, dazed, it recovers in silence for a while. Then it squawks again. Disturbing to say the least, to wake up to such violence. He gets up and after urination, the sound of which I try to keep from my own ears, for he never seems to realize that I have a bladder as well, and I have to wait for Kim to wake (much later, same bird) to see the first of the day. By that time the sun is out, gathering its ferocity. On walks, I admit I'm slovenly. I eat stalks of tall grass. I see who's been where that day, and cover those I should. All the time she yanks on my neck. All these important things happening and seemingly no time for them. Sometimes I meet a dog I'm not keen on and so I go after him. What's gotten into you? she always says, afterwards. Nothing, I want to say, it's the thing I'm trying to get out. But perhaps she wouldn't understand. She rarely scraps with humans, and even then, it's a weak exchange of bad looks. Unlike Kim, Colin is a fighter. Three times a week he comes home and I can smell the combat on him, the dried blood, the bruises. He walks with a limp in his right leg, and I've located the source of the pain, his knee joint. When I lick it him brushes me off with a flick of his hand. I'm a large dog, shie, but the might of this man under whose feet I wish to always lie is awesome. When we play fight he can throw me off my feet within moments of the contest. To challenge him truly would cause a great upheaval and he would most likely tear me limb from limb. I believe that a change might be on the horizon. I imagine that by the end of the summer, Kim will be sleeping in my bed in the corner and I'll take her place on the high bed with Colin. Perhaps in the fall, when the sun settles. Or winter, when, with snow, I am at my best. I hear them at the door. I have to put on my face of joy. Hope to hear from you soon.

shie (2006-02-24): Dear Humphrey,One of my favorite books from childhood called Akademia pana Klelsa (original title in Polish) I borrowed it from my elementary school library and loved it. When I was about twenty years old, I happened to find the book, looking very old and antique, in a glass display case at a city library. I looked for a copy since then, but it was out of print until this year. Finally and happily, I have a copy with me now. Another book I really loved was a story about a dog who thought he was just like one of us. Too bad I do not remember the title so I can not look for it. It was fairly short and small, with simple but cute ink drawings, translated from a foreign language. The main character was a dog, though he did not think he was a dog, sat for the dining table with his family, held a pen to write his name on a piece of paper (apparently, unreadable), went along everywhere a small boy in the family went to. I can not remember the ending of the story, but maybe he realized that he was a dog?? To think about this now, it seems like he completely lost his "dogness" (according to you, Humphrey), and showing that how hard that is to keep it without any confusion. Anyway, I still look for this book if anybody knows about it or let me know the title...

shie (2006-02-20): Hello Humphrey, a comment from you made my day! I imagine you sneaked in Colin's office while he stepped out for a few minuets to get some bread from a Jewish bakery on the corner, sat straight on a chair in front of his computer and typed on keyboard quickly, as you always do when nobody is around. Your paws are big but precise, after pressing "spell check", the message was sent off. When Colin came back, he noticed some changes around his computer and wondered,"hmm, this is Shie's stuff, did I leave this page open?" You wagged your tail, banged a few things dropped off the desk. Colin picked them up, scratched your back hard, as you love, forgot what he was wondering and returned to work. I imagine your expression of face when Colin and Kim find out about your comment on their page..