Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts
Friday, May 17, 2013
Dog Written in Dog Hair
So last week I trimmed the dog. Well, sort of. I tried, if that means anything, although probably not to her. She is mincing around the house looking embarrassed. Can't say I blame her. She looks like Grandma's old fur coat, the one that was accidentally stored in a moth's nest.
When I was done there was a pile of hair bigger than the actual dog. I gathered it up and threw it outside thinking the local robins could use it to build their nests. I imagined it being carried on the wind, like a loved one's last remains over ocean waves, winsome tufts of Misty hair blowing on the breeze, but it merely fell to the grass in sodden clumps.
Perhaps the rain was to blame.
That was then. Today I was hanging out the laundry and I glanced down at the clumps of dog hair, still lying exactly where they had been unceremoniously dumped a week ago.
"That's disgusting," I said to myself, pretending someone else had dumped dog hair on the front lawn. "I wonder what kind of an idjit would do a thing like that?"
Then I gasped.
Written in the dog hair, as clear as any picture of Jesus on any wall of any Tim Horton's, was the word dog.
What does this mean? Is it a message? Is "Somebody" trying to tell me something? Did you know God is dog spelled backwards? Maybe I should call someone ... like the National Enquirer ... or the Pope.
I've always laughed at the weird places people see images of Jesus. There's a good link here on Momlogic and a pretty horrifying group of photos (including a close-up of a dog's butt) on The Frisky. But I googled "dog written in dog hair" and came up with bupkis.
What can this possibly mean??????
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Taking pictures in my underwear
You know you live in the boonies when you can go out the front door in your underwear and take a photo. Of the scenery, not your underwear.
The view from my window was particularly pretty this morning so I tried to take a picture from the warm place where I sat then realized my winter-windows are too filthy for that exercise. So I threw a coat on and some boots and wandered bare-legged into the front yard.
The sky was sun-peached and rosy behind the snow-laden trees and the river was as ink black and ice cold as a murderer's soul. A gorgeous morning. The kind of morning you feel so good just to be alive and breathing.
Oh. That reminds me. Somebody online posted a link for a quiz where you can determine how long you're likely to live. I pounced on it, all excited because I quit smoking years ago, I've just lost 58 pounds, I exercise daily – I figured I'd be told I'd live until I was 90.
54.
Apparently I'm going to croak in three years.
I tried not to let this get to me (stupid internet quiz) but I felt the cold finger of death touch my bleating heart. That was two weeks ago and ever since all I can think of is three years.... three years... I wish I could remember whose blog I found this stupid test on so I could share the link and you could try it and be as depressed as me. But I can't remember. Maybe it's a sign of my upcoming demise. I tell you one thing: if I'm going to die in three years you can bet I'll be eating, smoking and drinking every damned thing that isn't nailed down. Self-fulfilling prophecy? Ya think?
On a completely unrelated note, we're babysitting a friend's dog – Charles is his name. He's exactly the same colour and the same size as our own dog, Misty. They're like tiny-dog bookends. Incredibly cute. Diabetes-inducing cute. I tried to take a picture of them but have you ever taken a photo of two jet black dogs in a snowbank? When I got back in the house I blew out the background completely just so you could see their wee faces dusted with snow. They weigh about seven pounds each, soaking wet.
And those flowers? They're mine. A gift from my sweetie on Valentine's Day. Aren't they gorgeous? Aren't I lucky?
All this and it's Saturday morning, the best morning of the week. It's a long weekend here in Ontario. Monday is Family Day so we have three long, lovely days with no "must dos" and no plans. No money, either, but that's beside the point. I have a light, happy heart thinking of the time ahead. I hope your weekend is equally light and equally happy :)
THIS JUST IN: I found the link for that depressing "you're gonna die in three years" quiz.
http://gosset.wharton.upenn.edu/mortality/perl/CalcForm.html
Let me know how long you've got, OK?
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