Well, I made it into work ok, no walkies this morning, but Newt’s at work with me.
You know, I’m a little peeved at folks that don’t take better care of pets. There’s a progression a person can take if they want to see how responsible they can be. Fish are mighty easy. Make sure they get fed, and the water’s clean. Cats, do that and give them love, and attention, keep the box clean, brush ’em here and there, take ’em to the vet. Even more so for folks with dogs, plus the regular workout and room to roam. If you can’t do that, don’t get an animal friend. It’s worse than not being fair, it’s cruel.
People who buy “accessory animals” make me very angry… Black cats for halloween, chicks for easter, dalmations or owls because they’re in movies. Those are the same people that will let the critter go in a month when they realise that the thing that they bought requires care. Something alive is more than an exuse to show off, it’s something you can pour love into, cherish, and get love back in return from. A friend. If you can’t handle a higher maintenance friend, get a lower maintenance one. Sure, a fish isn’t as snuggly or interesting to most as a cat or dog. If you want to be lazy and snuggle, get a stuffed toy. Don’t make a living, loving thing suffer. If a fish is too hard… get a plant. Start with a cactus. Look deep (or not so deep) into yourself, and see what you’re honestly capable of. Don’t even get me started on “Accessory Babies” Thanks… Rant off.
The editorial cartoonists had a field day the other day. Any number of pretzels shaped like the Enron logo were chucked on editorial pages across the country…I’m glad Bateman abstained, and I respect him more for it. (and I dig him a lot, already.. smoking orange cats rule.)
Points to ponder:
He says he wasn’t out long, because his dogs hadn’t moved. As having been a dog owner I’ve got to wonder about the relationship when the dogs don’t budge when the master has a choking fit and rolls off the couch to pass out on the floor. Heck, when any human chokes and rolls off the couch.
I couldn’t believe the damage control by the White House doctors. “It’s because he is so healthy that he passed out from coughing on a pretzel. You see, his blood pressure is so healthily rosily low that he is *more* prone to that sort of thing.” That’s probably why Olympic athletes are dropping like flies, that low blood pressure and coughing thing.
I think the dogs are tranq’ed to the gills to be able to stay close to him, otherwise they would be barking at the non-human creature in their midst. And I think the passing out was the first symptom of his metamorphosis. I want a look under that Band-Aid, I don’t think it’s a rug burn.
You know, his dad had something removed from his nose, and he did that great upchuck into the Japanese Prime Minister’s lap. It was probably a hairball.
I taste like Peanut Butter.
I am one of the most blendable flavours; I go with sweet, I go with sour, I go with bland, I go with anything. I am practical and good company, but have something of a tendency to hang around when I’m not wanted, unaware that my presence is not welcome. What Flavour Are You?
I followed closely with –
I am Vanilla Flavoured.
bonus link – pitfall!