Entries tagged as ‘dogs’
I was at a meeting recently where someone stood up and said, “Fall is here, so please remember not to drive through piles of leaves along the road. There could be children playing in them.”
I’ve heard that a hundred times, and a hundred times it sounded like something that grew out of urban legends. On the flip side, we were told as kids not to play in the leaves near the street for the same reason. As usual, this drove me to the internet. Low and behold, SNOPES.COM does not dismiss the warning as a myth, but cites several horrible accidents as proof that playing in the leaves can have deadly consequences.
But there’s a more pressing reason you shouldn’t play in the leaves, particularly not the leaves piled on the street in front of my house. That’s because they are filled with dog poop. Those are the leaves I raked from the backyard over the weekend, and while we try to stay one step ahead of the dogs, it’s tough in the fall. The problem? Their droppings are camouflaged by nature’s colorful bounty. That sounds very poetic until you stroll through the leaves, or worse yet, you spend three hours raking them up. Then nature’s colorful bounty is a stinky, disgusting mess.
So, don’t play in the leaves and don’t drive through the leaves, and for Gods’ sake, wear clean underwear in case you get in an accident.
Categories: Kids · Modern Living
Tagged: automotive, current events, dogs, wisdom
Oh, wait…they’re right here. Nevermind.
Categories: Home
Tagged: dogs, pets
September 27, 2008 · 8 Comments
Our household has been blessed with a new arrival: eleven month old Australian Shepherd Matty. As I write this, she is licking a pizza stone which I unwisely left on an eye-level shelf. Please try to forget this just in case I ever serve you homemade pizza.
Matty came to us as part of some sort of “deal” Ann made with the breeder. We didn’t have to pay for her, but at some point she’ll be mated, and will go to the kennel to birth and wean her puppies. The breeder gets the puppies. We in turn pay for the food, vet bills, dog treats, carpet cleaning, etc. I’m not sure what happens to this “deal” in case she accidentally gets knocked up by some neighborhood mongrel, instead of a carefully selected Australian Shepherd stud.
That brings us to the algebra of dog ownership. Two dogs means twice the food but it seems to yield four times as much dog poop. And walking two dogs? It’s ten times more complicated than walking one, turning a pleasurably mindless activity into a challenging ordeal. No, having a second dog isn’t easy, but as I get older I’m beginning to think that they key to living longer is doing new things. Hell, If I thought it would add five years to my life, I’d probably get another.
Categories: Home
Tagged: dogs
The nurse asked me, “How long will this take to grow back?”
She was shaving patches of hair off my body so she could attach EKG electrodes during my annual physical: three on the chest and one on each calf. How long to grow back? No idea —but certainly not in time for vacation on the beach.
Thanks to some bizarre brew of genetic happenstance, I am uncommonly hairy. No, I’m not real happy about this turn of fate, but what the hell? You play the hand you’re dealt. Oh sure, I’ve considered manscaping, but I don’t even like getting the hair on my head cut. Fortunately, Ann says she likes me just the way I am. If not for that -or if I were single or something- I’d be off to be waxed, trimmed, lasered…whatever it would take.
Last year on the beach a nearby family made no secret of their interest in my dog-like appearance. They gawked at me from their blanket, gesturing in my direction and chattering in amazement. Since they were speaking a foreign language I can’t give you a direct translation, but the inflection said, “Oh! Look at the hairy man!” They were obviously from a place where body hair is not the norm. My son Alex says, “Maybe they worship hairy people where they come from. Or monkeys.”
Anyway, the chest hair has mostly recovered from being sheared, but I still have two bare patches on my legs. And next time I go to the doctor I’ll be sure to do it in November.
Categories: Uncategorized
Tagged: dogs, manly matters, personal health
MYSTERIOUS MAIL I get lots of weird mail at work, some of it addressed to me as the company “President”, but I’m really curious how I got on the mailing list for Black Enterprise magazine. Not complaining here —especially not with articles like this about my main man, Barack Obama, but it just seems a little odd. I didn’t think I was in the target demo, but maybe I was made some sort of honorary black entrepreneur. Perhaps I’ll get invited to go hang out with Russell Simmons or something.
ABOUT DOGS At dinner recently we got on the subject of dogs and strokes. Zack asked, “If a dog has a stroke does it end up with slurred bark?” Good question.
ALSO ABOUT DOGS We can’t name many of our neighbors or any of the children running around, but we know the names of all the dogs: Penny, Fenway, Shelby, Fanny, Max, Skipper (Skip for short), Hank, and Fenway. Yes, there are two dogs named Fenway. Boston fans. I’m naming my next dog Bill Buckner.
Categories: Work
Tagged: dogs, sports
GOTTA SERVE SOMEONE Zack surprised us on the way out of Mass Sunday, announcing that he’d like to be a lector someday. We were really impressed by this because we’ve worked so hard to keep him interested in church. I was halfway to the car before I realized why he was suddenly so keen on getting involved —and it had everything to do with first reading, Zechariah 9:9-10:
See, your king shall come to you; a just savior is he, Meek, and riding on an ass, on a colt, the foal of an ass.
Like every 12-year-old, he just wants to say ass in church.
ON THE INTERNET, NOBODY KNOWS YOUR A DOG I don’t really have time for it, but I’ve gotten myself involved in another online project: Dog 365. For the next year, I will post one picture a day of Scarlett, the Australian Shepherd who can’t manage to keep her tongue out of my mouth. I’d like to tell you that this is some sort of satire about the relationship we have with our pets, but like a lot of things I’ve done online, I didn’t really put that much thought into it.
POST TIME Madeo couldn’t quite get it done at the May 24 Alydar Stakes, losing by a neck to long shot Trevor’s Clever. His owners and trainer continue to have high hopes for the three-year-old, who’s entered in Saturday’s $350,000 Swaps Stakes at Hollywood Park. Madeo won’t be the favorite this time. Among the entries are Kentucky Derby horse Colonel John, who will likely head to The Travers if he wins this race. Does that mean Madeo could end up in the Travers if he wins? Not likely, especially considering he’s never run on dirt.
Categories: Religion · The Internets
Tagged: dogs, gambling, Kids, Religion, sports
I write a lot of copy every week. Mostly it’s not worth $65,000 per word, but I was especially proud of this sentence: A NEW HOME FOR DOGS LIVING LIKE PIGS IN THE FILTHY HOUSE OF A NEGLECTFUL BREEDER. If dogs are living like pigs, you know things are really bad.
Now this from the amusing typo file: WHEN NEW YORK STATE BUILT THE THRUWAY, THEY PROMISED TO ELIMINATE TROLLS SOME DAY. That’s very good since there are so many bridges on the Thruway.
Here’s an especially absurd idea: SOME PEOPLE SAY THAT YOUR CAR MAKES A STATEMENT; COMING UP, THE STORY OF A CAR THAT DOESN’T JUST MAKE A STATEMENT, IT SHOUTS OUT A MESSAGE OF PEACE AND TOLERANCE. I wonder if that’s covered under the warranty?
Next, there’s something wrong here but I’m not sure what: HANSON-MANIA STRIKES THE CAPITAL REGION —AND WE FELT QUITE A SURGE OF IT RIGHT HERE AT CHANNEL 13 TODAY! OK, that’s what’s wrong: saying surge, mania, and Hanson in the same five seconds .
Finally, my favorite literary technique, good news/bad news: NICE WEATHER —BUT DANGEROUSLY DRY. LIVE AT ELEVEN.
Categories: Work
Tagged: advertising, cars, dogs, words
Ann was a little under the weather this week with a stomach bug. Always the caring and sensitive husband, when I got home from work I handed her the Clorox Clean-Up and asked her to wipe down the doorknobs, handles, and any other objects she may have touched. Did you get the remote? She waved a finger at me, and it wasn’t her index finger. Alrighty then.
Look, let’s get this straight: I’m not a germaphobe. If I were a germaphobe, would I allow the the dog eat pasta out of my mouth —and we’re not talking “Lady and The Tramp” style, we’re talking penne. Exactly. And if I were a germaphobe, would I consume perfectly good food that someone carelessly left in the kitchen garbage, or reach elbow deep into the sewer pipe in the basement? I rest my case. This isn’t about germs, this is a public health issue, and if you ask me that’s everyone’s responsibility.
You didn’t touch the refrigerator did you? She gave me that cute little wave again.
Categories: Marriage
Tagged: diy, dogs, family, obsessive compulsive, quirks
We’ve all heard that dog’s mouths are cleaner than ours, and that dog saliva has magic healing properties. Let’s hope so. Our Australian Shepherd, Scarlett, has a built in homing system that aims her snout directly at mine, and like a heat seeking missile her tongue targets my mouth. If I don’t pay attention, she finds it. Occasionally, paying attention is no defense since she’ll creep up when I’m sleeping and begin licking me full on the mouth. I suppose I should feel flattered by her interest in thrusting her tongue into my gob, but she is a dog and I am a human, and ours is a love that no one would ever understand.
Categories: Home
Tagged: dogs, forbidden love, pets
