I Don’t Wanna Talk About It (But I Will Anyway,) and I Love Lucy

Lucy

Lucy is clearly not a Belgian Malinois (most likely Bulldog and Beagle) but as Mick Jagger once sang: “You can’t always get what you want /But if you try sometimes /You just might find /You get what you need…”

Even considering the insight of the Rolling Stones, I didn’t really need a third dog.  Even so, I was surprised it took Jerry from May to September to end up with another dog.  I wanted another Malinois for Miss Clara to mentor, (and I still do) but when a stray dog (almost) got into it with one of the ankle biters at the campground over table scraps, Jerry had to intervene, and rightfully so.  I couldn’t say no to that face and those eyes.

Either we took Lucy with us, or she’d have ended up with an ass full of buck shot, as the owner of the ankle biter in question would not hesitate to do it.  It was a no-brainer.  We took Sheena, messed up as she was, because she needed a home and we had a space.  Lucy, even though I have little to no experience with either bully breeds or hounds, has a lot more going for her than poor Sheena did.

young female malinois

This is a young female Malinois- not Lucy!

Unlike Sheena, Lucy can hear. Lucy also has teeth. She has a bit of an underbite, (normal for Bulldogs) but she still has 42 sturdy, clean, white teeth.  She’s also young (about a year, according to the Vet) and to our shock, had already been spayed. I feel bad that she was put under anesthetic and cut on only to find out she’d already been spayed, but how were we to know?  In spite of undergoing what proved to be an unneeded surgery, she’s in impeccable health- aside from having to lose a pound or two from her incessant moochings at the campground. (Who can resist those eyes and that face?) She should get down to a proper weight now that she’s on Diet Plate with Lilo and eating pretty much just dog food.  She also has a microchip and tags now, should she manage to wander off from us.

I don’t know why anyone would bother to spay a dog and then not microchip her, or bother to put a collar and tags on her, but that’s not my call.  Against my first instincts, I love this weird looking little dog, even though she waddles when she walks and drools in her sleep.  Even the cats are chumming up to her and kissing on her, (Jezebel especially loves dogs) which makes me wonder if she really went off on the ankle biter, or that if the ankle biter’s owners were just paranoid that she was hanging around and mooching.  Then again, in our house the cats don’t compete with the dogs for food.  The cats eat in a dog-free area, otherwise the cats wouldn’t get to eat at all.  As far as competing with the other dogs, Clara and Lilo are both a lot bigger than Lucy, and she strikes me as being smart enough not to pick a fight with either one of them.

old boobs

I’m starting to think my tits have mistaken themselves for migratory birds, as they have moved so far south.  I know my grandmother warned me when I was 13 that I should always wear a sturdy bra, and for the most part I have heeded her advice, but the effects of gravity, like those of other forces associated with entropy, are inevitable.

Aging sucks, especially when it challenges your deeply held belief that it won’t happen to you.

I’ve been trying to avoid the political landscape as that whole scene is just plain depressing.  I knew what a piece of work our illegitimate president was before he cheated himself into office the first time.  I’m not at all surprised by what’s going on, even though it’s puzzling to me why the illegitimate fraud squatting in the White House hasn’t been impeached, removed and deported by now.

-Apparently playing the race card can still get you very far even with no experience, talent or ability to cooperate with others, and apparently not enough people care that you are illegitimate and lacking any sort of merit, if you can claim a favored minority status- and that makes my blood boil.

Anyway, I told myself I would avoid political tangents today so I am trying very hard not to.  The bad part about trying to avoid doing something is that if you avoid it too hard you step right into it, sort of like when I try to go out in the back yard and try not to step in dog shit.  Usually when I’m hell bent on avoiding dog shit is exactly when I step in it.

Oh, the parallels between stepping in dog shit and the illegitimate, destructive and dangerous Obama administration.  The only difference is that dog shit washes off.

dog-poop-obama

Who Wants to Go to Dog Shit Lake? Springtime in Central Ohio, Sort Of

This weekend it is finally supposed to be above freezing here in lovely Central Ohio.  I know only too well what that means here in Whine Country.  My back yard, which is currently encased in layers of ice and yellow snow, will be transformed.  It will become Dog Shit Lake. 

We have a fairly large back yard, but we also have three large dogs.  The back yard has not thawed out since some time last November.  When it does thaw I know exactly what I will encounter, and it neither looks nor smells good. 

The problem with picking up after the dogs during the winter is that the poo is hiding beneath the snow and ice.  Since it’s hot when it hits the ground (fun fact: normal body temperature for a dog is 101.6 degrees F) dog poo melts through the snow and settles on the ground.  Then additional layers of snow and ice freeze over it so that it is impossible to see.  The dog poo only becomes visible again as the snow- and the poo itself- melts, leaving a noxious cocktail of thawed snow and partially melted, soggy turds.

I’m not shoveling that up.  It really doesn’t help to shovel it anyway, because even if you get the big pieces, you’re not going to get the melty poo water, so it’s still going to reek.

Ahh, the delight of spring in Central Ohio.  The pisser is that even a few days’ thaw is not really spring.  It’s just enough to get the young kids to go back to wearing tank tops and flip flops, but it’s only mid-February.  It will get cold and go back to permafrost for a time or two more at the very least, and the possibility of extended freezing temperatures extends well into April and sometimes even May.

I have to wonder whose dogs are eating in the bathroom.  I know some dogs have a taste for toilet water, and no dog alive will refuse the opportunity to snarf down cat shit should it be made accessible, but one really has to wonder.  I wonder if the author of the note understood that “canine” refers to dogs.  Infestations are usually attributed to pests or vermin such as insects, rats or mice.  Obviously I don’t regard dogs as being pests or vermin, but who knows?  Maybe this person thought “canine” refers to squirrels or rats or some other sort of critter.

Theoretically it could be said that the human gene pool is suffering from a huge infestation of stupid people.  That’s not a nice thing to say, but not everything that’s true is always nice. For anyone who hasn’t already noticed, I am NOT politically correct by any stretch of the imagination.

Sometimes the obvious must be made painfully clear, however, can we assume that a person who needs a sign to be warned not to drink urinal water may not necessarily be literate?  What good is a warning if you can’t read the sign?

Some things should be common sense, but common sense isn’t terribly common anymore. 

Not whizzing on the electric fence sounds like a good idea, no?   There is also an educational song (though the video for some reason shows scenes from Lion King) to remind people of the hazards of tinkling in bad places.  The scary part about Ren and Stimpy is that the older that cartoon series gets the more intelligent they appear to be.

Perhaps in a thousand years, if there is any human society left, they might view such downright stupid humor in the same reverent light as we view the literary works of Shakespeare or Emerson or Faulkner.

Ren!  Enlighten us with your wisdom!  Stimpy!  Share with us your awesome brain!

In a thousand years I won’t be around to witness the madness and depravity that humanity will have devolved into, which is probably a good thing.