NEW RESEARCH IN ANIMAL BEHAVIOR: THE URBAN HUMAN

WE ARE UP HERE AGAIN, ON THE MEAN STREETS OF CHICAGO, AND IF THERE'S ONE THING I'VE LEARNED IN OUR RECENT FORAYS INTO THE CITY IT'S NEVER BE CAUGHT IN CHICAGO WITHOUT A DOG. If you have a dog, you're pretty safe. Why, just today Ursula rescued me. We were walking home after our early morning park visit. I was minding my own business, when from across the street I see a strange woman approaching from the other side. She looked straight at me and said, “Good morning!” And she wasn't just saying, “good morning,” either. She said it like she really meant it. She was smiling and all. I said it right back to her and then she went on. “It's a beautiful day, isn't it?” I said yes, it was, and then she said, “I first came out, and I was, like, 'it's freezing,' but it is REALLY NICE.” By now she has crossed the street and we stand on the corner, chatting together about the weather and enjoying the cool breeze in the sun. We exchanged blessings (“You enjoy your beautiful day, now!”) and parted. I shudder to think what might have happened if I hadn't had Ursa with me. Why we could have had an UNPLEASANT encounter, or, at the very least, passed each other with downcast eyes. Or perhaps I would try to greet her, but she would simply ignore my greeting and walk on by.

Now this woman didn't have a dog, herself, but I've noticed an interesting phenomenon in the city. Add a dog to the mix and a chance meeting automatically becomes pleasant. Maybe dogs are messing with our minds, sending out a cushion of pacifying vibes around us that sooth our every encounter. My research indicates that if even one party has a dog, the chances of a pleasant interchange go up dramatically. For example, after our morning walk I set out alone to do my day's work at the grocery store coffee shop where they have free wifi, and tried my best to smile and make eye contact with everyone I saw, but every single person passed with eyes averted. It was still the same beautiful morning, but I was getting dramatically different results. Actually saying “Good morning” to one man was enough to make him spill his coffee and quicken his pace.

 Let's review: 2 people meeting randomly on the street + 1 dog = a greater exchange of pleasantries. 2 people meeting randomly on the street + 0 dogs = very low exchange of pleasantries.

Now, if both people have dogs, an entire conversation is required. That conversation is to be focused on the dogs and can include anything from names and ages to genealogy and comparing notes on behaviors like chewing (negative behavior) or playing fetch (positive behavior). This is especially true in the middle of the day, when people are not just walking their dogs before or after work, but seem to have time to visit. Of course, if the interaction takes place in the dog park, the number of exchanges rises exponentially with each additional dog.

In the dog park, people gather in the center or on the benches, sipping coffee and chatting while their corresponding dogs cavort and play. In the afternoon, Ursula and I walk several blocks to get to the fenced-in tract where dogs can go off leash. I bring the little frisbee I crocheted for her, but she is overwhelmed with the buzz of being so close to 10 or 12 dogs, and when I pull it out of my pocket I can't interest her in a game of fetch. A little brown pug, however, is very interested, and so I throw it for him—a rookie mistake. He promptly catches it in the air and runs away with it, all manner of doggies in hot pursuit. He doesn't want to let it go, but the people leave their conversation and run after him to retrieve it for me.

 It takes 4 adult humans to bring down one little dog, and 2 of them to pry it from his teeth. After the ruckus, of course, comes conversations and introductions, and one thing leads to another and suddenly I am no longer just a wallflower at the dog park, but caught up in a community of dog people. We sip our coffee, exchange pleasantries, and enjoy this fine day.

Converse in Beauty; Converge in Peace;
Blessed Be.

CITY BIRD FLIES THE COOP

YOU CAN TAKE THE BIRD OUT OF THE CITY,
BUT YOU CAN'T TAKE THE CITY OUT OF THE BIRD.

FRIENDS, ALL GOOD THINGS MUST COME TO AN END. Last weekend we went up to Chicago and I finally had to admit that you can take the Bird out of the City, but you can't take the City out of the Bird. It was an unseasonably gorgeous day, and we took Ursula to the beach. Can you imagine that they have a beach just for dogs? At first she was shy, sniffing at the edge of the water, jumping back when the waves lapped her paws, but when she saw that it was a dog party, a BIG dog party, she high-stepped into the lake, prancing like a circus pony. She barked and bit the water, jumping and frolicking. I thought, “this is home for her.” I've known for awhile that her self esteem has been suffering, since she doesn't get to wear her leash all the time, like the city dogs. I thought about how walking her twice a day would force me to get that exercise I'm always talking about. In Birdland, I only open the door and let her run outside any time. Where's the exercise in that?

WHAT I REALLY MISS
IS THE LAUNDROMAT!

 Speaking of exercise, we had to watch out crossing the jogging path. There is a wide ribbon that goes all the way from Uptown to the Loop, and beyond, in either direction. I've often thought how nice it would be to ride a bike along the beach, but then I saw something that made my heart sing: roller skates! I do have a pair of roller skates, but as soon as I got them home to Birdland, I realized that my driveway is gravel. By the time I got to the mailbox my teeth were rattling in my head. Sometimes don't you just get a hankering for pavement? Here, in Chicago, I could skate to my heart's content and never run out of road!

DON'T YOU GET
A HANKERING FOR
PAVEMENT? 

 I sat in my Uptown office (a grocery store coffee shop with free wifi) and considered. Some folks tell me that if I were ever to leave Birdland, I wouldn't be able to write these letters anymore, but I say Birdland is a state of mind. Sure, the country gives me lots to look at and write about, but the true heart of Birdland is in noticing small joys wherever we are. Birdland is a choice to be part of the rhythms and the cycles that make up the dance of life. That dance is most present in the natural world, but if we look closely, we can see nature even in the heart of the city.

 And speaking of nature, sometimes don't we just want to get away from it? In Birdland we've been opening the windows at night to let in the breeze, but I can hardly sleep with those spring peepers in my pond! The city is much quieter. You can hear the whoosh of the traffic, but it's kind of soothing. If you close your eyes, it sounds just like the surf of the beach.

You might think I’d miss hanging my laundry out on the line, but truth be told, I'm a little sick of it. What I really miss is the laundromat. The soft scents and the cozy warmth as I fold my clothes on the wide table reminds me of The Pink Lady of my youth. My little laundry line with shirtsleeves and pant legs whipping around in the breeze is for the birds.

Yes, my mind is made up. I have almost all of my arrangements in place. Ursula will come with me, of course, and I've found home for most of the chickens. The only thing I'm worried about is a pair of old hens that require just a little bit of special care. Their names are Lirpa and Loof. They're good hens, but they're dyslexic, so they won't come unless you call their names backwards. If you know anyone who can offer them special care like that, let me know.

Jest in Beauty; Prank in Peace;
April Fool!