I was carrying a piece of French toast to the parrots when Miro jumped up and grabbed it out of my hand. Yelling the usual at him, I reached down his gullet, pulled it out intact (that's the advantage to the way dogs gulp things down without chewing), and handed it to Alanis, since dog-to-bird saliva didn't seem like a good idea.
In addition to thwarting Miro, this was good practice. It has been a while since I've reached down his throat & I've always trained my dogs to know it's my right to plunge my arm down the esophagus and drag out whatever they're trying to swallow. Very useful, especially with the holidays coming up and all those tempting edibles and inedibles lying around.
Much has been written about Airedale snool, the difficulty of getting it off windows, its uses as a glue alternative, etc. Now I'm thinking it might be used as the slime you see on aliens in the movies.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
The tragedy of the ants
When I was cleaning up the yard after the recent storms, Miro helped by eating all the yellow grape tomatoes left on the vines. He cleverly left the green ones, taking only those that were ripe.
All summer I had watched hundreds of black ants moving little twigs at the foot of some steps made of railroad ties. It took weeks to figure out that they were building up a berm, for reasons unknown. From the number of them, I guessed that their tunnels extended a long way into the slope; but I resisted the temptation to dig in and find out. It didn't seem fair to disturb the tremendous amount of work they had done.
When I checked on them today, I saw holes instead of their little mound.
The entire mound was flattened.
The neighborhood flickers had discovered the ants and bored down like the anteaters they are. A few ants wandered above ground--too tiny for my camera to capture--like the dazed survivors you see in the movies after an apocalyptic event. Months, whole ant lifetimes of work, gone in a few days of rain and birds. Really, it reminded me of the time my computer crashed and I foolishly hadn't backed up weeks of files.
All summer I had watched hundreds of black ants moving little twigs at the foot of some steps made of railroad ties. It took weeks to figure out that they were building up a berm, for reasons unknown. From the number of them, I guessed that their tunnels extended a long way into the slope; but I resisted the temptation to dig in and find out. It didn't seem fair to disturb the tremendous amount of work they had done.When I checked on them today, I saw holes instead of their little mound.
The entire mound was flattened.
The neighborhood flickers had discovered the ants and bored down like the anteaters they are. A few ants wandered above ground--too tiny for my camera to capture--like the dazed survivors you see in the movies after an apocalyptic event. Months, whole ant lifetimes of work, gone in a few days of rain and birds. Really, it reminded me of the time my computer crashed and I foolishly hadn't backed up weeks of files.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
An artistic controversy
The critics cannot agree: is it an artistic piece, symbolic of the brutality of life, or is it just brutality? The artist refuses to comment but he stands--or sits--by his work.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
A conversation with dogs
Miro, leave it. Leave-it! Leave. It. Good girl, Alanis.(pause) Miro! Leaveit! (pause) Leave it. Leave. It. LEAVE! IT! (pause) Leave-it. ^%&!*%~ Miro, leave it! (pause)Leave that, too. Now! LEAVE IT! Not you, Alanis, you're a good girl. Goooood girrrl. Miro, leave it! (Repeat)
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