Category: Pets

Crankypantsing, Pets, Photography

Happy Friday (Now New and Improved with Kisses!)

Shelly

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Mmm-wah! Harriet Brown sends kisses. (For full effect, I strongly recommend clicking to view at full-size.)

I stayed up late last night to watch the end of the women’s long program. I like figure skating, but for some reason it just wasn’t as interesting as it could’ve been. It was not time well spent, unfortunately. Since I was up way past my bedtime, I intended to sleep in this morning. So when the phone rang at 6:45 ayem, I was not terribly amused. Janet Parker, whoever you are, would it’ve killed you to let the phone ring a couple more times? Because, the only thing worse than being waked up at the crack of dawn is hauling my lazy ass out of bed just in time for the phone to stop ringing. I wasn’t sleeping very heavily, so I know that I heard the first ring. She let it ring four times. Four! At 6:45 ayem! Give a girl time to get out of bed, for crying out loud. Grrr.

On the bright side, the sunrise was beautiful. I was too lazy (I mentioned the laziness, didn’t I?) to go inside and get my camera, so I have no photographic proof, but I promise it was lovely: neon pinky and orangy with streaks of purple and fuschia.

Now, I just need to convince my lazy ass that it needs to clean the house. I’m not feeling very motivated.

Pets

Unconditional Love

Shelly

Gina at Dogma, a pet writer whose blog I very much enjoy, posted yesterday on the subject of unconditional love. While I believe that dogs are capable of experiencing love, and I think that the majority of dogs develop bonds of love easily, I’m not in 100% agreement with her claim that dogs love unconditionally. It seems pretty clear to me that there are strings attached. Surely no one expects a dog whose owner mistreats him to unconditionally love his abuser?

For example: My own dog’s love is intertwined with her ability to trust. She does not trust many people, but those she does, she loves and would walk over hot coals to be with. But break her trust, and the love will disappear, as well. For Harriet, things like fairness and consistency are major components in the trust-love equation. She is bewildered by inconsistent treatment, and reacts by withdrawing and shutting down. She cools toward the person who breaks her trust and it can take a long time to rebuild it. “Fool me once…” she says. There are lots of strings attached to Miss Brown’s love, but that’s okay. Part of the bargain we struck was that I would be the one supplying the unconditional love and light refreshments. She just needs to bring the entertainment.

Pets, Photography

The Red Ball

Shelly

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Harriet is not a keen ball dog. She will reluctantly fetch if told to, but her heart is not in the game. She does, however, harbor a deep affection for her red rubber ball. I got it for her about five years ago, and it was love at first sight. It’s hollow and soft and fun for both chewing and bouncing. Inevitably, she will lose it behind or under a piece of furniture, forgetting about it until it comes to light months later. When it does, the reunion is celebrated with wiggles and kidney beans and all manner of Boxer happiness.

Today was a reunion day. I found her ball under some shelves in the kitchen while I was sweeping. I picked it up and bounced it down the hallway. Harriet, hearing the unmistakeable sound of her ball, woke up from her nap and raced after it. She batted it with her feet and nudged it with her nose. She carried it from room to room, chewing on it, then flung her head from side to side so that it flew away, and chased it. She took breaks, resting on the floor or the couch, with her ball between her feet, waiting and watching intently, lest it sneak away while her attention was elsewhere. She rolled around on her back, ball in her mouth and feet flailing, like a trout on dry land. She shoved it under her blanket, hiding it, then, not being able to stand having it out of her sight a minute longer, dug furiously until it was uncovered.

When the game was over, the ball retired to yet another safe spot under the furniture. In another month or so, it will re-emerge, rested and ready to play.

Pets, Photography

Harriet Brown Fears No Storm

Shelly

I think it’s generally true that pets pick up emotional cues from their owners. When we’re anxious, our pets can sense it, and will often become anxious, as well. I know a lot of people whose pets are afraid of storms, and the common advice is that they must be afraid of storms, too, and that they should try to calm down in order to calm their pet down. To that, I say: “Ha!”

We had another nasty storm last night, complete with thunder, lightning, hail, and tornado warnings. The wind was ridiculous, howling and whistling and generally doing its damnedest to scare the living hell out of me. If Harriet was negatively influenced by my agitated state, she surely hid it well. Unless, of course, she exhibits her anxiety by lolling around on the couch like a drunken sailor. I’m not sure it would have been possible for her to care less.

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Meta, Pets, Photography

Harriet Brown Loves a Good Salad

Shelly

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It cracks me up when Harriet sits like this. She reminds me of an old man slouched in a Lazy Boy, watching tv and drinking a beer. She–formerly known as The Dog Who Does Not Drool–had another slinger fest last night while I was eating a salad. I cannot imagine that mere romaine, radicchio, cucumbers, scallions, or tomatoes were responsible for the waterworks. And, I cannot imagine that the lemon juice and kosher salt I dressed it with were, either. It’s official: my dog is a freak. But, she’s a Boxer, so we already knew that.

Is this week over yet? The wind last night was unbelievable. It made the electricity flicker off and on all night, which meant I overslept because my alarm clock lost it’s mind. Yuck. Traffic is bad enough at 5:30am. By 7am, it’s bumper-to-bumper all the way to Bloomington. I ended up going the back way, to avoid the Hwy 46 wind tunnel, but traffic was still heavy.

But! Guess what I heard this morning, as I was getting into my car? Geese. Lots and lots of geese. The wee geesies are returning, so that’s something to be cheerful about. I think.

Oh, and before I forget, if you’re looking for that perfect gift for the man in your life, why not an heirloom quality mink penis cosy? I hear it’s what all the best dressed men will be wearing this Spring. Surely, my sources cannot be wrong.

In the far less bizarre world of template news (because, you know there had to be some) I have tarted up (or should that be dressed down?) the gallery. The lurking shadow man is gone, as is the ass-ugly grid pattern on the top left. The stripey bits are gone, too, and I’ve changed the fonts to mirror the blog font family. About the only things left that bug me are the upper navigation buttons (I’m just not enjoying the rounded, shadowed look) and the lack of a banner image. I may play around with adding an image to the header, but will probably not get too motivated to de-fancify the buttons. That sounds too much like work to me.

Pets, Photography

When Good Pets Go Bad

Shelly

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I have no idea who the guilty party is. The inclusion of one of my socks implicates Pandora (she has a bizarre sock fetish, and will carry them around the house in her mouth), but Harriet was the one I found at the scene of the crime. All I can say is that I can think of about a million things I’d rather do than rewind a ball of hemp twine. That’s one job that’s definitely going at the bottom of my To Do list.

So, today was food co-op delivery day, the time of which coincided beautifully with sunrise. I managed to get quite a few good shots, three of which I stitched together into a panorama. I’m kicking myself for not pulling over when I got to Spencer, though, because as I crested the hill leading down into town, the far eastern ridge line was glowing an astonishing shade of fluorescent orange. (More of this morning’s sunrise photos can be seen here.)

Sunrise Panorama

Pets

Why I Love Boxers Reason #487

Shelly

So, Miss Brown spent some quality time outside this afternoon, digging and generally making a mess of both the (alleged) “yard” and herself. She was spectacularly, grossly, disgustingly dirty. Ugh. So I gave her a bath. After Elliott, who A) loathed being bathed and B) had a long, dense, Chowy coat, the short, single coat of the sporty Boxer model is a finely crafted thing of beauty. Eight minutes it took me, to bathe and towel her off. Now she’s resting happily on the couch, giving herself a “cat bath” to remove the remaining moisture.

The best part is that, while she hates getting wet, she’s a total peach about being bathed. She doesn’t exactly like it, but she doesn’t object to it.

Oh, and have I mentioned how much I appreciate our local license branch? I had to renew my driver’s license and the registration on my car. I was in and out in 15 minutes.

Crankypantsing, Pets, Photography

Harriet Brown is a Sleepy Goose

Shelly

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I love it when Harriet tucks her nose under her “wing.” She makes such a compact bundle. I would’ve wrapped her up in her binkey, because she was obviously a little chilled, but she was lying on it and I didn’t want to disturb her.

So, I stopped on the way home to get gas (only US$2.25/gallon!), and had an odd encounter. First, I nearly got creamed by some asstrumpet in a Camaro who cut through the Bigfoot lot to avoid the traffic waiting in line to turn onto the main road. Can we say rude and illegal? Yep, I thought we could.

Then, when I tried to use my card at the pump, I got a message that blinked “Panic Code 013.” WTF?! I went inside to inform the young man at the counter that his, um, equipment was taking A Tone with me. His response? “I wonder just how panicked we should be?” Smartass! I ended up pulling around to another pump, which worked fine. As I was leaving, I saw that another car had pulled up to the Cranky Pump and that there was an enormous pool of gas all over the pavement. Yikes! I didn’t hear any explosions as I drove off, so I assume all’s well that ends well.

Pets, Photography

A cap of lead across the sky

Shelly

I woke up this morning to the sound of some sort of unholy wind keening through the trees. And hail. Lots and lots of hail. Only, when I looked out my front door, I couldn’t see any hail. Hmmm. I thought maybe I was imagining it, but then, when I looked out one of the back windows, there was a layer of white covering the ground. It was hailing on one side of the house, but not the other. Very weird. It’s been gross and rainy and windy all day, so I haven’t wanted to do much of anything but curl up on the couch with a book.

The sun tried to make an appearance, bless his heart, but the clouds were just too heavy.

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Because it was such a horrid day, I didn’t think there would be much in the way of a sunset. It wasn’t as spectacular as it could’ve been, but I managed to catch one of my neighbor’s horses grazing on the crest of the hill, silhouetted against the golden sky.

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This is why I had to velcro my computer speakers to the top of my monitor. Some old cats think they should be allowed to sleep wherever they want, and who am I to argue? I love the way her little paw is folded under.

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