"Sylvie and Bruno"

Sylvie and Bruno is Lewis Carroll's longest work; it was originally published in two parts, each of which is roughly as long as the Alice books combined. It's an odd book, a melange of disparate and, sad to say, discordant elements. There is Carrollian whimsy, complete with fairies, two über-cute children, a couple of absurd Professors, silly songs and talking animals. There are political machinations, discourses on science and mathematics, meditations on Christianity, a touch of satire, a light romance and a large dollop of melodrama.

Unfortunately, it's not a very good book. There's a reason why it's less well known than the Alice books or "The Hunting of the Snark": it simply doesn't hold together well. The whimsy never reaches the level of the Alice books; the depiction of the children is infected with the Victorian propensity for child-worship; the shifts between Fairy-Land and 19th century England are disconcerting; and the resolution is an over-hasty attempt to make everything Come Out Right.

Still, I don't regret taking the time and effort to read it. Embedded in the dross are lumps of gold, or at least high-grade copper ore. In addition to the discussion of free fall I quoted earlier, there is an impromptu demonstration of the properties of the Möbius strip and the Klein bottle. There is a brief meditation on the shortcomings of punctuation and the uses of white space. Some of the philosophical passages are thought-provoking (though some are simply sophomoric), and the silly songs are, if not on a par with, say, "The Walrus and the Carpenter", entertaining enough. The discussion of dinner-table conversation, and the techniques adopted in Mein Herr's homeland to encourage it, is hilarious.

I think the best I can say, in rating Sylvie and Bruno, is to call it an interesting failure.

Now What?

Okay, this is going to take some explanation.

Item 1: Ben is - has always been - very insecure. He constantly seems to worry that I'm going to abandon him. Anytime I go to the front door, he's there, watching. For a while, it was my habit to give the dogs treats just before leaving for work, to cushion the blow, but I had to abandon that; Ben would drop his treat and follow me to the door. (Murphy would snap up the discarded goodie; his eye has always been on the main chance.) Recently, his nervousness has taken a new form. Both of their food dishes are kept in the kitchen; in the past, I've doled out their food and then gone into the living room or the computer room to attend to other things. Now, when I do that, Ben follows me; I've had to start taking his dish into whichever room with me in order to get him to eat.

Item 2: Murphy is getting even shakier on his legs. Several times in the last day or two, I've seen him trembling in three or all four legs - not just his hind legs. This morning, I was munching on some ham, and I tossed him a small piece. It landed a bit to the right of his right foreleg, and I could see him visibly struggling just to turn and pick it up. Finally, I picked it up and handed it to him. He seems especially shaky on tile - and the kitchen and dining room have tile floors.

So, this evening, as usual, I went to the kitchen to fill the dog dishes. Neither dog followed me, which was very unusual. I whistled for them, and after a few moments Ben came over. Of course, he wouldn't touch his dish, so I took it into the living room. Then I went to fetch Murphy. He struggled to his feet and followed me to the edge of the carpet, but would not step off onto the tile. Fine, then; I went into the kitchen and picked up his bowl. By the time I got back to where he'd been, he'd returned to the other end of the house. I took his dish to him.

Ben, of course, was following me around. I led him back over to his dish and sat down on the couch. He immediately jumped up on the couch with me and demanded petting, leaving his food untouched. Murphy wandered into the area and looked at Ben's dish, then came over to me, also wanting to be petted.

This was ridiculous. After giving them both some perfunctory strokes, I ordered Ben down and pointed him at his dish. He ignored it. I led Murphy over to his dish, picked up some of the food and offered it to him; he turned up his nose. I then told them to do as they wished, and left the room.

Ben's food dish is now empty. Murphy's is still untouched.

After the scary incident with Murphy two years ago, I'm very nervous about loss of appetite. But Murphy had bloodwork done less than a month ago, so it's unlikely to be an infection like the last one, unless it's blown up in a real hurry. I'm not sure what to do... Under the circumstances, I'll have to find someone to drive us over to the vet for any appointment. He does need to have his teeth done sometime soon...

Dammit.