IN LOVING TRIBUTE TO OUR DELIGHTFUL PHIL
WITH MUCH SADNESS
AND THANKFULNESS THAT WE HAD HIM IN OUR LIFE
FOR ALL TOO BRIEF A TIME
MARCH 23, 1998 - MARCH 11, 2005

We have a new Golden Retriever pup!!!!!

Date Line: September 20, 1998

Jus' playing around and showing off "Phillip" with this page.

It is such a treat for me to look down and see this nearly six month old pup, lying on the floor beside me. I have waited many years for the right time to have another Golden. More correctly, for another Golden to have me. For now he is the "spitting image" of his dam....shown below. He has some growing to do, though. He is very placid, mannerly, regal and comical. (2-1-99..he is also something of a "ruff-ian" at 82 pounds of solid muscle. ) He came to us from Kelly of DUET Golden Retrievers, who certainly knows her goldens. Thanks, Kelly.

As with all Goldens, he is extremely people oriented, very intelligent, loves water almost as much as food, is very loving and eager to please.

I'm filling in with some applicable poems here, while the jpegs have time to load.

Poems by Alvin Greenberg from
Why We Live With Animals
Published by Coffee House Press. 1990






"the howl that reaches from the dog right up
to the stars the moment you leave the house is welcome
news, you pause, your key just above the ignition,
thinking: someone misses me. some pup,
at any rate, would rather have you home
than not, but still, someone's got to shop
for dinner, do the laundry, banking, troop
through the everday like a good soldier or doom
us all to howl, hungry, behind locked doors
forever. so: since such howling makes a circle of
your absence, put the key in (thank you), turn
the motor on (ah, listen to that purr),
hit the streets and get those errands done.
someone back here's desperate for your love."


Alvin Greenberg



"the hand trembles. if there were no animals
to slide their heads up under it for soothing,
it would tremble worse. how quiet it is, smoothing
the fur down on the big dog's head. animals
ease us like water: the tide of great animals
rising in the night sky, an evening of falling
wings splashing into birches, the cat flowing
across your chest when you lie back: animals,
always waiting for us to wade among them; oceans
of animals: in the streets, the skies, the woods,
in zoos, at home, right down in the backyard grass,
the warm, shallow oceans of the beginnings of worlds,
magenta, salt, reptilian, oceans of absolution
the same turgid oceans we slithered out of once."

Phillip sez: "Hmm, this is my first day here in my new home. Wonder if these humans are going to be any fun. If they think this kitchen floor will continue looking like this...well . . ahem . . . I'll try patiently to train them."

"Bowsers, an ice cube just hit the floor.....they will have to learn that anything that is on the floor is fair game. Did I mention, I love ice cubes ? Yep, I chase them around the floor, crunch on them some, then let the small pieces on the floor melt so I can roll around on them. Puddles are nice. "

Phillip sez: "Hey, this will work, for now. They think I can't smell that lake very nearby?" "Heard my primary human mention something about mud down there. *grin."

"You should have seen these new humans of mine rolling around laughing when they turned the hose on and I leaped for a drink. Wonder why they thought that was so funny?"

A day later, Phillip sez: "First day I was here she said how clever I was for stopping to smell the flowers yet the very next day she took exception to my eating them. Go Figure!! I helped the PH dig up dirt and plant young fall seedlings today. She does carry on when I walk on those weeds, er...plants! Then when I was just about as nice and dirty as a feller can get (all that red mud was really quite lovely) she amused herself by giving me a little bath, grumbling under her breath. I entertained myself by catching and chasing the water from the hose that she used to rinse me, making certain that she also got nice and wet, and then engaging in tug-of-war and a hearty wrestling match with that big towel . Guess I wore her out after three walk abouts to the top of the ridge, several romps around the property, lots of catching and retrieving balls & such .....well, she needs the exercise!"

Friday 9/27/98 and Phillip sez: "I got to meet one of my litter mates and two of my older sisters at the lake this evening. It was doggone fantastic to romp in the water again, retrieving and tugging, I found it very refreshing and exciting. Then they all came to my new home and I showed them my new humans, my puppy pool and toys. I was sad when they left, but I certainly slept well."

Phillip sez: "She wants me to retrieve this little bitty stick, sheesh. Doesn't she know I need a training dummie and lot's of trips to the lake and river before winter sets in?"

THE PH SEZ: Not to worry, gentle readers, he now has a virtual arsenal of decoys, frizbees, tennis balls, etc., etc. He does not, however, have anything rawhide for chewing up. I am of the belief, with advice from the breeder, that rawhide is really not very healthy for dogs, so we use Nylabone edibles along with a variety of (I hate this name:) Beggin' Strips, lamb chops treats.


Sunday 9/29/98 . . .Phillip sez: "Oh, joy, my humans took me to my "Uncle Lynn's" house on the French Broad River. I leaped from the dock with great agility to retrieve my new dummies. I was amazed when my primary human jumped in with me (her dive leaves much to be desired), 'cause I didn't know humans could swim. My other primary human (aka "Pa") threw a myriad of dummies he had fashioned for me and I recieved lot of applause. Aw, shucks!!!"

"Growing up and smelling the roses that my human keeps putting in the back yard. She puts them here, there, everywhere. I find it a great obstacle course."

Last, but by No Means least is Golden Lady of Brandjwyn,(May 1976 - April 1986) my first Golden, she was an extra ordinairy and superior animal, stoic pal & "quiet watcher."



Brandi surveys her domain for interlopers.



"some days even the grass shouts
how you're not welcome: get away! get off!
the trees spit on you and the house has had enough
of you, too: the moment you left, it locked you out
and one look at the sky's all it takes to find out
there's no place for you there, you'd stuff
yourself in a hole in the ground just to be safe
for an hour somewhere where there's nothing else about,
but the rocks, the rocks! and the shovels have all left town
and those clouds: the rain's sure to wash you loose
before you've taken even one deep breath
of dirt. and forget the river - it's got no use
for your lonely bones, for a life looped around
an empty leash, you don't even interest death."

Alvin Greenberg



"somethings on the prowl out there and we
know it. not some half-starved, cellar-
shuffling, chain-clanking wall-knocker
in velvet slippers and smoke. worse. we
feel it flutter beyond the edge of our
fire, tangible as a tornado, it waits;
quiet, hungry, quick, smart, and faster
than the flame that snaps its way, flick of our
hope and bluster. it smells like rotten meat
and howls the high, pure decibels of hate.
its breath's all fangs and claws, it loves the dark.
it can wait forever for us to turn our backs.
oh household pets, we know we ask too much
who keep you to place yourselves between it and us."


Alvin Greenberg