Yep, they’re like big cats. With twice the affection. And [generally speaking] none of the psychosis.
(BTW, that’s a joke)
Greyhounds are the bestest. And racing is evil.
You should see the condition these dogs come in in, ticks even in their ears, all over their scrotums (scrotii?), ticks and fleas everywhere, full of worms (even nose worms!) and so skinny. Multiple fractures sometimes, or just simple breaks left untreated for “about a month.” Badly wrapped breaks that reek like rotting meat when you unwrap them. And these are just the ones we get. So many just disappear, or “fall off the registry.”
Uh, anyway.
Does anyone know of a good place to get rawhides in bulk inexpensively? We stock up when Costco carries them but they haven’t for a while and we’re out at the GAC Kennel. I spent $65 on rawhides on Friday at Petsmart and they’re nearly gone already– those 4 inch rolls go quick when you’ve got 30 dogs chewing away and getting the plaque off their teeth. They have to be the white ones, not compressed, and preferably American because sometimes there are really nasty chemicals in the others. I checked Smart & Final and no joy there either. They love the rolled rawhides best, 6-10″. heh, heh.
Anyway, give me a heads up if you know of a local source with really good prices.
…nothing to do with this post. Unless you are a follower of a cat-based religion. In which case, praise be to the cleansing lintbrush and the cloister of the Box!
I keep forgetting to post about this, but if you have felt the need for a lovely little kitten in your life from beautiful downtown Burbank, California, click here to see cute pictures of kittens.
And if lovely, social, well-behaved and litterbox trained kitties aren’t your thing and you’d like to try your hand at living with a feral adolescent kitten/cat, drop me a line. Also, a friendly teeny mama kitty. Sans reproductive capability & all ready to go.
I forgot to mention this from my birthday. When we were leaving to go off to dog beach in the midafternoon, I found this tucked in the top slats of our gate:
And I have to admit, my first reaction was “Holy s—! Who did I piss off?”
It looks like it was written on the bits of cutup old scrap that libraries keep by the card catalogs with the little golf pencils; is it spur of the moment evangelism? [Did someone driving past look at the state of our front garden and think, ‘Sainted succotash! There’s an immortal soul in need of my help!’] Or was there a whole room full of churchgoers writing these notes over and over with boxes and boxes of old scrap paper, dividing neighborhoods into grids for delivery?
Anyway, I thought it was at least a little amusing because I can’t help but look at it and see this:
It’s like me and Jesus are back in fifth grade together.
(yeah, yeah, Jesus and I, yeah, yeah)
For a while, I used to collect religious pamphlets, and it’s a hard habit to break, I tell you. I mean, talk about a message. How do you convince someone, in such a small space, of something which is so fundamental to the nature of a person?
I just love the different styles of rhetoric, the range from a style of “peace, love, and Jesus” to “accept Jesus or burn in hell,” to Jack Chick’s style which could almost be defined as, “It’s a given you accept Jesus, because if you don’t you’re a tool of the devil and will burn in hell, yadda yadda, that’s just basic, but if you don’t preach the word to everyone you meet, you are a poseur Christian and still gonna go to hell you big faker!” [and if you and I are ever walking along and there’s a Jack Chick tract on the pavement, you better be wearing running shoes, my friend, and be darn quick to beat me to it, the comic book format of these hatefilled little things is appallingly brilliant and totally addictive like movie popcorn, with even that same shamed queasy feeling after you’ve finished the whole thing] to the pamphlet I picked up the other day, with “SMILE JESUS LOVES YOU” with a big yellow Smileyface on the front, but filled inside with passages on sin, hellfire & damnation.
I suppose they ran out of room before they got to the bits about forgiveness.
And don’t worry, I don’t keep them anymore. I just enjoy them and set them free again (usually in the rubbish bin).
I’m not so much into the evangelism aspect, partly because of the hate-filled drivel of the Jack Chick school, and partly because I think something so big is just too personal–I mean, talk about presumption.
But I can also see the point–I mean, we go on and on about our favorite new products, and how they “change our lives” on and on about Mr. Clean’s Magic Eraser (love it!) iPod (yay!) Kaboom (another cleaner that rocks!)…so why not try to help other people out if here you’ve got this thing which you feel is just, well, literally in some cases, the End of ends, the all-one, the faith which gives you strength, safety, everything…well, that’s it, isn’t it? It’s not cleaning, it’s not entertainment, it’s not even Knitting. It’s faith. It’s Big. It’s not lifestyle (though so many treat it like it is) it’s Life. Life everlasting.* That’s really BIG, yeah?
But I like reading all the LITTLE pamphlets.
*(the words change between faiths, but I think they all share common threads. So despite all the Christian-oriented jargon tossed around in this post, I bet you’d never guess what religion I’m most closely aligned with and identify as. Big fat awesome prize to the person who guesses it. Hell, if you’ve read through this dreck you deserve a prize. ;))
I’m on a bit of a Kombucha kick, read a little article in Craft about it and thought I’d try my hand at making it myself, sort of as the article describes but using starter from a bottle bought at the local Henry’s.
We’ll see. Definitely doing it in the garage next time, if this batch doesn’t make me violently ill and turn me off the whole thing. I do not like fermentation smells. Horse farts and sheep burps are one thing, but the kitchen smells a bit like a dive bar when you walk past where the culture is growing. It’s that nasty drunk person ketone smell. Yergh.
I was drinking some of this yesterday and got a mouthful of translucent gelatinous goop and realized: Dang, they could be putting anything into this (thinking of a specific male bodily fluid, although the goop was not bitter tasting nor chlorine-y smelling) and we happy little hippies would just be chugging it down and thinking, “Yum! Organic raw culture! Yum! Live bacteria! Whee!”
There’s lots of floaty stuff in there. Let’s just hope the bottlers are extremely gruntled.
It might be an acquired taste, I think it tastes like cider. Sour-sweet, like hard cider, not the kind you give the kids. Well, not the kind you give the kids if you want them to have any brain function when they grow up.
