Lamont and Dude Further Discuss Relocation

“So did you decide, Dude? Are you moving to the mountains?”

“No. I don’t think I’m the same being I was whenever that was and I lived in the mountains.”

“No more enlightenment on the species identification, then. Oh well. We can’t be expected to remember everything.”

“I think you were right. I was some kind of deer. I did a little research on those creatures and it’s not a bad life unless winter is hard and long.”

“Yeah, vegetarians have a greater dependency on climate than carnivores. If anything, bad seasons are good for carnivores.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Oh well. That’s why I always say, if you can’t come back as an ancient oak tree, come back as a carnivore.”

“Like there’s a lot of choice.”

“True enough, Dude. So you heading out? Looks like some pretty nice sets.”

“Yep. You coming, pardner?”

“Not today. You just git along little doggy. I’ll catch you later.”

Lamont and Dude are characters I came up with a few years ago. They have the uncanny ability to remember many of their past incarnations which gives them an unusual perspective on life, the universe and everything.

Lamont and Dude Ponder Love

“Happy New Year, Lamont!”

“Yappy Gnu Ears to Ewe!”

“Some party last night.”

“Yeah. I’ve lived too long for that shit any more, Dude. Next time, don’t ask me.”

“Ask you? I didn’t ask you. You were already here.”

“That seems to be the story of my lives. Did you remember dressing up in your Smilodon suit and asking Sweet Cheeks next door to marry you?”

“She might’ve said ‘Yes’ if you hadn’t told her that the last time she and I were married I killed her.”

“It’s true. ‘Predestined enemies’ the Chinese call it, people you fall in love with over multiple incarnations. If you remember that, you could anticipate these problems.”

“Why did I kill her last time?”

“I don’t know if it was last time. But you killed her for food.”


“You were very serious about it. Life had gotten pretty harsh. She would’ve killed and eaten you. You just got there first. It’s easy in these human iterations to forget what it is like being a wild animal.”

“What were we? I don’t remember this at all. Preying mantids? Tiger sharks?”




Lamont and Dude are characters I came up with a few years ago. They have the uncanny ability to remember many of their previous incarnations which gives them a unique perspective on life, the universe and everything.

Lamont and Dude Discuss Tradition

“Is it over yet? Can I come out?”

“What’s your problem with the holidays, Lamont?”

“Well, there’s all the kitsch, the expectations, the repetition of what we did last year…”

“That’s called ‘tradition’ Lamont.”

“…the illusion that it’s all somehow different and the world is going to change as a result of it. It doesn’t work that way. How’s the world going to change by doing the same thing you did last year and the year before? Show me ONE animal who celebrates ‘the holidays’.”

“Animals have bigger problems.”

“Yeah, exactly. Like food and kill or be killed. Whenever I see Santa and his Reindeer I think of the time I was a caribou. The whole thing shows little understanding of…”

“You were a caribou?”

“Yep. Wonderful times. Wandering with my pals for miles and miles in the snow, running from wolves, sometimes taking one down. I don’t know if I’ve told you this, Dude, but I loved the Ice Age.”

“It had its points, I’ll grant you, but it was cold. And as for Santa, in some parts of the world caribou are raised as domestic herd animals. It’s not totally crazy.”

“You don’t think caribou flying through the air is totally crazy? No wonder you were able to be a convincing Smilodon in that suit for such a long time.”

“I was convincing first because I was in that suit and second because I was once a Smilodon. I’d have made short shrift of you as a caribou. Remember that.”

“Short shrift. Now that’s one of the strangest phrases in English, don’t you think? What’s a ‘shrift’?”


Lamont and Dude are characters I came up with a few years ago. They have the uncanny ability to remember many of their previous incarnations which gives them a unique perspective on life, the universe and everything.

Lamont and Dude Ponder Friendship

“‘Unaware of the dangers that lay ahead, Lamont and Dude pursued the Protoceratops with a vengeance‘. What do you think?”

“No, Dude. No one had any desire for revenge against a protoceratops. They were just leathery sheep with armor and a nasty bite. You can’t write that.”

“I have to put some drama into this thing. Otherwise it’s just a dull recitation of, you know, a dull recitation.”

“There was plenty of drama without adding vengeance against leathery sheep. As I recall, somewhere in there was a meteor.”

“Who’s writing this? You had your chance. OK so what?”

“Just take out ‘with a vengeance.’ Wasn’t your whole idea to dispel the myth that we were evil predatory giant lizards?”

“Yeah, but I’m wondering about that now. We weren’t exactly giant and we weren’t evil, but lizard and predatory holds true.”

“When it came to the protoceratops, we were pretty evenly matched, too.”

“When it was two against one. Alone, we couldn’t take a protoceratops. We had to team up. That’s how we became friends.”

“Dinosaurs didn’t have friends, Dude.”

Lamont and Dude are characters I came up with a few years ago. They have the uncanny ability to remember many of their past incarnations which gives them a unique perspective on life, the universe and everything.

Lamont and Dude Celebrate a Birthday


“Happy birthday Lamont!”

“Dude, what?”

“Yep. On this day, 1743 years ago, you fell from your mom during a windstorm, landed in rich humus of oak leaves, dirt, and cow dung.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You were a tiny acorn. No one imagined that out of the hundreds tossed about in the gale, YOU would send down roots, send up shoots, reach your tiny branches to the sky, and voilá, after a couple of centuries your gnarled and lovely branches would shelter many a weary traveler, host many a Druid feast, provide a home for squirrels, insects, birds, your friend Mr. Owl…”

“Good lord. Mr. Owl?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I called him ‘mister’. How do you know I was ‘born’ on that day?”

“I was there, remember?”

“You were an acorn.”

“Yeah, but I was paying attention. Anyway, that storm was unforgettable.”


“Mom made it through. Amazing, considering her great age.”

“I don’t remember ‘mom’ at all.”

“Well, you fell pretty far away from her nurturing influence.”

“Don’t you have a job to go to or something? A Smilodon suit to don? A long, harrowing drive?”

“I quit. Last week. I told you. It got to be tedious after a while. Those Smilodon urges, well, you know. You can’t just put on a costume week after week and not want to hunt mastodons.”

“I think I could do that, Dude. I mean, it was an income. That was a good thing. You got paid a lot…”

“To sweat for two days a week, snarl and make paw swipes, hanging around while my ‘handler’ let the kiddies ask questions that I wasn’t allowed to answer. It’s amazing to me what these so-called scientists don’t seem to know. You’d think they’d remember a little something.”


Lamont and Dude are characters I came up with a few years ago. They have the uncanny ability to remember many of their past incarnations which gives them a unique perspective on life, the universe and everything.

P.S. Decided to test out WP’s new editor. Has some glitches but so far so good. I didn’t challenge it much. You can edit the size of an image without going away from your post, which is nice.

Lamont and Dude Discuss Diet and Scientific Truth

“Remember those lovely warm afternoons after we chased, shredded and shared an protoceraptops and we just lay there, basking on a rock, digesting?”

“What’s wrong, Lamont?”

“Nothing, just thinking of the goodle days.”

“Yeah, the reptilian life has a lot going for it.”

“Especially when you’re a dinosaur, wouldn’t you say? I wouldn’t like being an alligator lizard.”

“Maybe you have been. Who knows?”

“Yeah, that’s not the kind of existence you’d remember, especially if you got run over by a car or eaten by a cat.”

“Did you ever think how everything stays the same and only the names are changed?”

“I have. I was watching a gray tabby cat play with a dead leaf, and I thought ‘Whoa, if I got down there real close to the ground it would look like a Smilodon vs, I don’t know, something’.”

“Yeah, it’s just a matter of scale. Why don’t we go to the store and get some steaks? It’ll be almost like we killed something.”

“Speaking of scale, science has figured out that we didn’t kill many big dinosaurs but were mostly scavengers, and if we killed anything it was mostly bugs, lizards and stuff like that.”

“Science scmience. It was still fun, wasn’t it?”


Lamont and Dude are characters I came up with a few years ago. They have the uncanny ability to remember many of their past incarnations which gives them an unusual perspective on life, the universe and everything.

Life in the West (and a PSA — get your flu shot and don’t argue with me)

I’m as rugged as they come, being, as an old friend used to say, a “Modern Western Woman,” western meaning the West which is right here where buffalo roam and every second pick-up has a driver wearing a c’boy hat. I am self-reliant, don’t mind getting dirty and laugh at pain. Haha, pain.

So today I made my way to the big city and the supermarket. I never make a list because I’m rugged and don’t need frou-frou like that. The store was pretty empty except for the usual c’boys, farmers, Amish, and retirees. I went to find probiotics (since the antibiotics of the surgery, my digestion has been a little rugged) and saw there was NO ONE IN LINE AT THE PHARMACY.

“Get a flu shot,” said a still, small voice within. “Now’s the time.”

Always listen to the still, small voice within.

It takes a lot of guts to march up to that window and say, “I want a flu shot” and then they offer you one for pneumonia, too, because you’re a rugged OLD person which is even more rugged than a rugged young person. You’ll find out.

So I filled out a paper, handed over my Medicare card, and waited. People came and went. A cute little Hispanic boy about three showed me his very excellent Kung Fu moves, but since I’m so rugged, I just smiled. His mom informed me that the kid is a character. A little later a Hispanic farmer sat down beside me and said in the magical accent I’ve loved since I was a kid, “You getting a flu shot?”

“Yep,” I said which is how rugged Western people say, “Yes.”

The pharmacist called me and I went into a little room where I discovered I couldn’t get my long sleeve up high enough for him to give me a shot. No worries. Us rugged Western women wear undershirts, so I slipped my left arm out of the sleeve.

He did a good job with the shots. I hardly felt anything — and I told him.

“The pneumonia shot often hurts,” he said.

“Life is pain,” I said, grinning, embracing the misery of existence as any rugged, stoical western woman should.

Then he said, “Before you put your sleeve back on, let me see if it’s bleeding.”

I said, “I want a Band-aid. Even if it’s not bleeding, Band-aids make it feel better. Especially a Mickey Mouse Band-aid.

“Right?” he said, rummaging around in his Band-aid cabinet. “Oh!!! Wait, I have Loony Tunes Band-aids, wait!” As if I were going anywhere.

I am now wearing a Daffy Duck Band-aid on my rugged left arm.

I walked out, and the Hispanic farmer said, “I saw on the news there’s a new flu strain that kills people.”

“That’s fun,” I said. He grinned.

“Pretty soon we’ll all be wearing masks.”

“I want a Batman mask,” I said. Only Batman is more rugged than I am.

Lamont and Dude Discuss the Viability of a Scientific Explanation

“I dunno, Dude. I really thought that guy ‘got it’ you know? But maybe you’ve been right all along.”


“About reincarnation.”

“Ah. Well, I dunno. I think the truth is pretty out there.”

“I’m inspired to explain it.”

“It’s your funeral. I gotta’ get ready to go to LA.”

“What if you sat down in your smilodon costume and explained it to all the people watching, you know? Instead of just acting like a humanoid smilodon?”

“That would go over real well. Lamont, let people have their misconceptions. It doesn’t change anything. Maybe a person needs to experience it a few times to really get it.”

“Who HASN’T experienced it a few times?”

“True, but how many people REALIZE it?”

“I think you might be right, Dude. It’s enough that sometimes some people have glimmerings.”

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar:
Wordsworth “Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood”


Lamont and Dude are characters I came up with a few years ago. They have the uncanny ability to remember many of their past incarnations which gives them a unique perspective on life, the universe and everything.

Walk on the Wild Side

One of the places I like to hike in summer, fall, winter has enclosed part of itself with electric fencing. When I first saw the fencing, I wondered why (duh) but yesterday I saw the absolute bovinity of the reason.

Cows. Moms and kids. I don’t think they’ve been in there long as the herbage hasn’t been chewed down and there were no cow paddies on the trail.

And the fence isn’t secure.

Not everyone likes hiking with cows. In California it was the way things were up in the higher mountains east of San Diego where I hiked most of the time once I mooooved out of town. I thought of that yesterday. Pastures. I hike in pastures. There are dangers involved in hiking in pastures, especially with heifers and calves, but (so far, apparently) I’ve only had one scary moment when a mom cow thought her precious child, Hamburger, or, rather “Grass Fed Beef,” was in any danger from me and my dogs. Heifers are very protective.

The BLM, Bureau of Land Management who has the care of the refuge, had put a sign on the (new) gate saying, “Cows in field. Please close gate.” I’m a rabid gate closer having once — as a little girl — allowed 20, 50, five million chickens to roam freely in the pasture between my Aunt Jo’s house and my grandma’s. I paid dearly for that sin of omission and have NOT committed it again.

We closed the gate and began walking. It was really, really nice to be out there with my dogs. My knee was fine, I was fine, the whole thing was fine, but I didn’t bring water and at 1/2 mile, we had to turn back. It was hot and 30 minutes is all I could see was fair to walk my dogs without a drink.

Meanwhile, almost literally back at the ranch…

As we were leaving, I saw a black cow and a white calf make a subtle moooove (yes, cattle may be large but they can be subtle) near the gate. I didn’t see them where they should have been when I passed the spot.

They’d escaped.

I got into the car, backed out of the lot and headed down the dirt road. There they were. Strolling together in the shade.

Trapped between an irrigation canal on their (and my) left and an electric fence on the right, Mom sauntered along with child behind. I wanted to find a way to circle around and drive toward them, possibly turning them where I would heroically open the gate and shoo them back in with the others, but the opportunity never came.

They made it to the busy county road at the end of this lovely lane. They were nearly hit. I called my vet, whose office is very nearby, thinking they might know the owners, but the woman answering the phone had no clue, and thought I was talking about the Alamosa Wildlife Refuge. As I didn’t know the number of the county road (I live Where the Streets Have No Name) so I could set her straight, I gave up. It’s amazing — but true — that people living in this tiny Colorado town don’t have intimate knowledge of every nook and cranny. I headed back toward home, and who should be coming out of Sonic but the BLM truck with an actual BLM worker inside. I blocked his exit and motioned him to come to my car.

I don’t think that would work in LA.

“There’s a heifer and a calf loose on the 3E.” (I’d learned the number of the road in the meantime.) “By the Wildlife Refuge.”

He grinned and said, “I’ll go see if I can herd her back inside.”

I came home. I hope they’re OK.


“You look great!”

“You’ve lost weight! Maybe ten pounds!”

“Yeah, well, so would you if you had surgery, ended up with a horrific case of thrush from the antibiotics so you couldn’t eat, then got fifty-million different opioids that killed your appetite. It’s a done deal.”

“No, really, you’re leaner and straighter.”

“You’d be straighter too if some guy cut you open and sawed out worn and crooked bones and replaced them with extra parts from the Tin Man. You’d be straighter.”

“Good job. Sometime tell me how you managed to reduce so fast!”

And this, folks, is how some (not all!!!) people actually do listen to each other. Cracks me up.