Animal Issues

Dogs do bury things, who knew?

I’ve had a lot of dogs in my time but I’ve never had one that buried stuff. I’ve had dogs that chew. I’ve had dogs that dig. I’ve had dogs that demolish everything in their path. But no dogs have ever buried anything in my yard. I really thought this was some tall tale only seen in cartoons and read about in books.

Today I saw a dog bury something and it was funny as HELL.

The dogs were wound up today. The little dog got angry at the meter reader and could not stop barking. This caused Jake to bark. From there, they just barked at the snow or their own shadows or the oxygen tank or whatever. It was annoying.

I finally split them up because I could not take it any longer.

During their separation, TW and her mother had lunch. Jake was locked in the back of the house with me but the little dog was in the front of the house. Jake did not want to be with me because I do not eat. So Jake barked and whined and tried to knock the gate over. TW took pity on him and tossed him a couple of short rib bones. He wasn’t interested. He wanted to be in the front of the house with her.

The little dog, however, was very interested in those bones and tried to knock the gate over from the other direction to get to the bones.

Eventually, TW removed the gate and tried to urge the little dog out the back door to use the bathroom. Jake ran to the front of the house, little dog grabbed a bone and ran to the back. TW let the little dog out and he stood there chewing on his bone rather than using the bathroom.

After awhile, he buried the bone in the snow. But when he saw us all watching him, including Jake, he unburied it and started chewing on it again. Then, he buried it and TW finally convinced him to use the bathroom and come in.

Fast forward a few hours and the balmy 32 degrees has caused the 6″ of snow on the slide to slip down onto the ground in one glorious long slab of snow. Right on top of where little dog buried his bone.

Little dog is not happy about this development. There’s to much snow for him to dig it back out. He just stands there and looks at the spot where he buried the bone… and barks. While I stand in the house and laugh at him.

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Pigs are cool

A pig happy to be brushed RJ needs to do community service as part of the Lyceum program at her school. We’ve been thinking about where she might want to put in some hours and I thought – “Hey, the pig sanctuary.” Sure enough, Rooterville welcomes children volunteers and the very nice Elaine responded to my email and graciously invited us out for a visit.

We went out yesterday and wandered around the sanctuary, meeting the pigs and talking about what type of help we might be able to offer. Then, we went out again today and spent a couple of hours cleaning food and water bowls and pools, brushing pigs, and adding hay to the pens to help keep the pigs warm tonight when the temperatures are expected to drop.

If you live in the Gainesville area and are interested in helping the folks at Rooterville take care of displaced pigs, please drop Elaine a note, she can use some help.

More pig sanctuary photos here.

*Updated: You can sponsor a pig!

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Teaching Lyra to Sing

So the bird. Lyra is her name but I just call her bird. Which is better than what I call the rat.

When RJ is not here for long stretches of time, the bird moves to our bedroom. I think I like this development even less than I like F*** Elvis in here. (See I told you calling Lyra “Bird” was better than what I call the rat.) I really am not a bird person and while I did find it amusing to hear the pissed off little baby voice coming out of Jenn’s mouth when she heard RJ got a bird, “No fair, you never let me get a birdddddddd!!!!”, I’ve really disliked having this creature in my life. I particularly dislike it when TW gets her out of the cage and she flies all over the darn place and I really dislike it when she does this while I’m in a phone meeting. I also dislike it when the bird hisses at me while I”m getting clothes out of my dresser. The hissing obviously means the bird dislikes me as much as I dislike it.

But. The bird also seems to appreciate me enough to learn things from me.

It now can whistle, like I do. It also makes some really weird noises that I could not place but have grudgingly decided to admit sound surprisingly like laptop keyboard noises – and mouse clicking noises. So – I’ve taught it to whistle. I’ve taught it to make keyboarding and mouse noises. Now I am attempting to teach it music. Music that RJ likes and that I like.

I’m trying to teach it to sing or whistle “Emotional Girl”. She definitely loves the music. She will sing and make every noise she has ever made and flutter her wings and whistle non-stop while it is on. She also seems to appreciate Terri Clark’s version of “Poor Poor Pitiful Me” but the Zevon version puts her to sleep. I may dislike the bird, but at least she has good taste in music – or maybe she just appreciates a woman who looks really good in a hat.

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Daily Dose of Kids, Noise and Cats

Did I tell you the big boy moved back home?  He did.  He’s been here two nights.  The first night he slept on the couch because it was short notice and we didn’t have time to clean his new room, the Florida Room, and get a bed in there.  And his sister, who has missed him a lot, told him the little kids wet their beds so he was afraid to sleep in one of those.  Ah siblings, such kindness.  Sort of amusing after the fact, though.

The next night, he dragged half of the mattress into the Florida Room, turned on the ceiling fan and then dug around in the closet for the box fan.  He said it was comfortable enough at night, during the day it’s a wee bit warm but not too bad.  With his big fan, that’s still at his old place, it should be fine.  He dug some sheets out to hang over the sliding glass door not because he is modest or to block out some daylight but because he brought his darn cat with him on day two and the other animals in the house stood at the door and whined to get in there to "visit".  Instead of being down to 3 cats we are back up to 5! 

Chris is a vegetarian.  Not in the flexitarian way that TW and I are vegetarians.  He really is a vegetarian.  He has this whole animal compassion thing.  He apparently has developed a fondness for organic junk food and those healthy chips that TW and I buy when we visit real grocery stores, like Wild Oats and Whole Foods and stuff.  Ha.  We’ve determined that he NEEDS his green vegetables and he does eat tofu and he does eat all Boca products.  (I hope he eats Publix fake meat products since I buy those more often now.)  He also eats fruit and he still drinks an awful lot of soda.  At least I’ve only had to lecture him once about TW’s cokes – he’s been gone a whole year and he’s forgotten the TW coke rules. 

The most interesting thing I’ve noticed since the boy has been back has been the noise.  You can almost always hear a guitar playing in the house if Michelle and/or the half child are here.  But now, with Chris home, you hear ELECTRIC guitar with AMPS instead of soft acoustic sounds.  I’m having just a little bit of trouble adjusting.  Thank goodness he is in the Florida room and not over my head anymore. 

So, the boy is back and we are glad.  We’ve missed him.  Even if he is loud and did bring a cat and has special food needs.

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Daily Dose of Cows

TW really likes cows.  A lot.  She wants a family cow.  Or one of those miniature cows.  Or both.  I guess I should feel almost lucky that we only came home with Elvis Rat last weekend.  I should but I don’t.  It’s a rat!  Anyway, about the cows.  She likes them.  She moos at them when we’re driving past their fields on the freeway.  It’s weird but it’s that quirky kind of weird that makes her "TW" so we sort of like it that she likes cows.

I felt very lucky to have been falling asleep in a phone meeting last week because it caused me to do something productive like surf blogs with Blogmad or Blogclicker or Blogexplosion.  Don’t ask me which because they’re all the same to me (sort of, but that’s a different blog).  While I was surfing to stay awake I discovered The Cartoonist They Call Stik and I smiled.

I sent the link to TW on AIM and she smiled.  I clicked through a bunch of the pages and giggled a lot.  I subscribed.  You never know when a cow cartoon might cheer up a disgruntled webmaster girlfriend.  The very next day I saw a contest being offered.  Easy too.  You just had to answer a simple question about one of the cartoons.  I knew the answer, even if it hadn’t been multiple choice.  I entered.  Never thought I would win but guess what – I won!  I am lucky that way.  I win cow tshirts and lube, lots and lots of lube.  Some people win millions in a lottery.  Not me, I’m not that kind of lucky.  But I’m not complaining, not really.  I felt lucky to win because I knew TW would smile at the shirt I won.  And she did.  It arrived today:

Pimpmycow  Go buy your own or buy one for me.  Do you know which one I want?  I bet you do…

Flamincow

You should also subscribe to the blog – there seem to be an awful lot of freebies given away there and if you don’t enter to win, then I’m going to have to enter and with my luck I’ll have an entire house full of cow shirts. 

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