So, sometimes the dehydrated sweet potato in the Kong just won’t come out, and after working at it for a long time, the only solution is to bring it to the thumbed biped for assistance, right?
Which just happened. So I fished the sweet potato slice to the halfway-out position as I always do if it’s really stuck in there, and Gilly, as he always does, very sweetly, gingerly, delicately extended his muzzle out to take hold of it with his little grooming-teeth, silvered eyes half-closed with anticipated chewy delight, and sweetly, gingerly, delicately took hold of my ring and pulled–and pulled–and pulled–
AAAHHH, I shouted. YOU JUST EXPLODED MY HEART.
BARK. He said. THAT IS NOT A SWEET POTATO. PUT THOSE THUMBS TO WORK, BIPED, AND MANIFEST MY SWEET POTATO.
Which I did, because: love.
Good thing my fingers were bent. I don’t think platinum’s good for dogs.
From Stephen Kuusisto, on Facebook:
“A lot of people say dogs make us human and who would sensibly argue the point? Those who work alone, hour after hour, know the good company of dogs. The bereaved who’ve survived scenes of huge violence are reminded of unambiguous good when therapy dogs arrive and nuzzle. The shadow of a life grows small before the light of dogs. Dog lovers have always known how canines complete their lives and nowadays theorists like Brian Hare (who coined the word “dogology”) argue dogs possess empathy which they share in abundance with their human partners. We know dogs are smarter than we’ve previously imagined. For the blind none of these ideas seems very surprising. Blindness, on a primary level, means living at one remove from the world, no matter how successful you are. A guide dog is not merely a guide through traffic, but an animal friend, close to the ground, beautiful, familiar, resilient, and strong. One can add confidence to empathy–a dog’s reliable faith can be shared with anyone, but especially the blind. Paired with a guide dog a blind person is back in the world, or, as was the case for me, is in the world for the first time.”
Found a snapper I thought was dead, heron-flipped and headless – but in fact she’d either been flung or fallen into a wedge of stone with her head stuck under her own shell (ouch).
Flipped her over, and here’s what happened.
Gilgamesh was very courteous – and pleased with himself for supervising a happy ending.
The great blue heron who had been perched just overhead was not so happy with us, but has plenty else to eat. Close call for turtle!
Very funny story of entrepreneurial war in the Albany Times-Union:
You might assume that Jonathon Locke has a crappy job. You would be wrong. …He is driven by poo.