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“American poetry — according to one of the many competing caricatures — is dominated by English professors and the minor epiphanies they have while walking their dogs.”

Walking my dog this evening I came across a “growth” attached to the base of a 70-year-old oak tree. Its peach color made my golden retriever look dull in comparison (sorry, Jesse) and its hue intensified as blue evening descended. An example of the power of complementary colors, this was a minor epiphany to my non-professorial American eyes.

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As described at http://www.tonepadapp.com/, this plaything is quite user friendly: “Create songs by simply touching the screen and seeing notes light up.” (This reminds me of what Stanley K. said about a different pleasure: “Having them colored lights going.”)  TonePad allows you to create a short (about 4-second) snippet of music that repeats hypnotically. You can then build upon it with new tones and rhythms, mimicking the accretive style of composers Steve Reich and Philip Glass.  After some practice, what’s you’ve mastered is a kind of dime-store minimalism, except you don’t need to cough up even ten cents.  Since I needed music for the soundtrack to my second iMovie, I decided to give TonePad a try.  The result, available on YouTube and Vimeo:

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On our walk through the neighborhood this morning my dog Jesse began to strain on the lead when he got within 20 feet of a certain object of his desire.  It was a blue Toyota Prius. Not my blue Prius, mind you, but someone else’s, parked blocks away from where mine sits in front of the house.  When Jesse reached the car he put his muzzle right up against car’s hatchback door, as if to say “Open Sesame!”  Then he turned and gave me a look that said, “Let’s go to the beach!”

By that point in our walk we had already passed dozens of parked cars, and Jesse had shown no sign of interest in any of them, let alone any move to commandeer one for a day trip.  He’s always ignored other Priuses parked around the neighborhood, cars that were the exact same model as mine, although come to think of it, those others were of a different color (red, black, silver, etc.)  This blue car today was so close in appearance to mine that even I did a double-take.

So why did Jesse select it to be the “stuff [his] dreams are made on”? 

I think the answer is the color blue.

For a long time it was assumed dogs could not see colors.  A post on the website “WikiAnswer”, found here, echos that view.  But recent scientific studies have come to a different conclusion.  In an article entitled “How Dogs See Color” by Dana K. Vaughan, Ph.D., Dept. of Biology, University of Wisconsin, Oshkosh (available here), Dr. Vaughan reports that, yes, dogs can see colors, but somewhat differently than humans: 

“These experiments showed that dogs do see color, but in a more limited range than that seen by normal humans, who see the rainbow of colors described by “VIBGYOR”: Violet, Indigo, Blue, Green, Yellow, Orange, and Red (plus hundreds of variations on these shades).  Instead, dogs see “VIBYYYR”  (Violet, Indigo, Blue, Yellow, Yellow, Yellow, and Red).  The colors Green, Yellow, and Orange all look alike to dogs; but look different from Red and different from the various Blues and Purples.  Dogs are very good at telling different shades of VIB apart. Finally, Blue-Green looks White to dogs.”

Dr. Mark Plonsky, a Professor of Psychology, also at the University of Wisconsin, presents slightly difference results here.  His article includes an admittedly speculative color spectrum chart showing what your pooch likely sees:

One finding common to both studies is that dogs can readily discern the color blue.  So blue is the color to select next time you buy a car, if you want your dog to have a chance of spotting your vehicle in a crowd.

It’s reasonable, I believe, to assume Jesse can recognize a Prius by its size and shape, and through his sense of smell (as the car’s factory installed tires and its brake system probably emit distinctive odors).  But Jesse is able to find my Prius and his personal means of long-distance transport – or  get to the point where he believes he’s found his Prius – only when he comes across those elements plus the color blue.

Meanwhile, I haven’t settled on what to say to Jesse if today’s episode recurs.  This morning I simply said “No!”, yanked the lead, and walked on.  But I feel Jesse deserves a fuller explanation, something to indicate he is mistaken to think he has found my (his) car, yet he shouldn’t feel bad since it’s an understandable mistake.  So what voice command can contain than amount of  nuance? 

I’m thinking, maybe, “Close, but no cigar!”?

Max calls his blog, Max the Golden Retriever.  (Ooooh, how original!)   Aside from the blog, he’s also got a Newsletter – or, as he himself breathlessly announces: “Yep, that’s right… I have my very own newsletter.”  Apparently Max thinks he’s superior to those poor schnooks Addison and Steele, who had to share theirs.

But there’s something fishy about Max’s blog. 

First of all, wouldn’t you expect a real adult golden retriever, one ostensibly male, to say “Yup”  instead of a lame “Yep”? 

Second, why does Max’s home page feature only one photo of him – and a blah looking photo at that?  Not quite ready for Hollywood, are we, Max?

Third, where are the links to Max’s YouTube videos?  Oh, there aren’t any?  Hmmm.  Not ready for direct-to-video either, Eh?

You want handsome?  I’ll give you handsome.  You want a leader who brings a crowd to attention, a smile-spreading smiler, a retrieving golden retriever, a dog poetically searching beyond the horizon, a YouTube star?  I’ll give you all that too.   Ladies and gentlemen, Jesse the Golden Retriever:

Jesse is featured in 28 short videos on YouTube, most 30 seconds or less, showing his antics from puppy to adulthood.  A link to the entire video list is here.  In total, these have been watched over a million times. 

Jesse is my golden retriever.

(Move over, Max.)