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31 March
Right Here Waiting
When I pulled up in the driveway this evening, a dog was waiting under the
carpot. From a distance, I thought it was Fritter, but as I got closer the
dog would not stop barking. A small black dog, with a hurt leg was hiding
behind the garbage can. It took two minutes before the little dog would let
me pet her. She must have been really scared because she proceeded to pee
while I gave her love. I watched her limp around in circles and then decided
to let her in. I just couldn't leave her outside when she was hurt and scared.
According to my estimate, the little black lab is about 9 months old. She's
all black, kinda like a mini-Fritter. She has a collar but no tag. She also
has a shaved spot near her tail; it looks like she had surgery a few months
ago. I watched her eat two cups of food and drink possibly tons of water.
I went over to O'Dell's and printed out some found flyers. I managed to post
10 flyers on main stop sign in and out of the neighborhood.
It looks like we have another visitor until someone claims her.
ramblings by Whitey on 11:34 PM
108113744147279731
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30 March
Let Me Show You Something
My karate instructor has decided that all adult red belts will begin teaching
class on Friday nights. Each red belt is to be paired up with a black belt
and thru a rotating schedule, teach class once every 2.5 months. Sounds reasonable.
I'm convinced I will be paired up with the only black belt I dislike; let's
call him Mr Surly. He is only 15 years old and is quite arrogant. And
For the past several classes, my instructor has been coaching Righty and I
how to be "more manly" while teaching. He wants a deeper ki-aph, more forceful
moves and more power behind our techniques. I tried to grunt a few times during
class; after all grunting is very manly. Perhaps what he really meant was
for the two of us to be more aggressive. I'm not convinced that being manly
automatically makes you a better teacher.
In an effort to be more manly, I'm not going to shave my legs before the next
class.
ramblings by Whitey on 10:23 PM
108113641160272538
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28 March
Bees Part Deux
Damn the bees. I'm being haunted all over town by bees.
Today pumping gas, a huge bee, the kind that carry small children away, was
preoccupied with me. My only instinct is to run but it's difficult to run
when you’re standing in between the gas hose and your car.
I cursed, jumped over the hose, ran seven feet and cursed again. Unbeknownst
to me, the small Vietnamese owner was watching. As I made it back to my Jeep,
the owner asked me "what is going on?" Yes, what is going on? Why won't the
bees leave me alone?
In the drive thru to Wendy’s this week, I was nearly accosted by a bee.
Not only did this bee freak me out the totally freaked the drive thru lady
out also. I sat in my car will all the windows rolled up, she stood behind
the counter with door shut for what had to be an hour while this determined
bee tried to get inside.
Inside my jeep, inside Wendy's...it just wanted inside.
Bees might serve a purpose in nature, but can't they serve it away from me?
ramblings by Whitey on 11:21 PM
108053766461044251
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27 March
Spicy Ginger Be Damned
It was orange. Not a cool shade of orange, if there is such a thing. It was
Ronald McDonald orange. Spicy Ginger was not gingery at all, it was hideous.
Yes, my hair was hideous.
I could deal, maybe, if it was a cool rock star shade of fusica pink or deep
cranberry red, but no it was a coppery, bright orange. There is nothing cool
about orange. In fact, the color orange is the epitome of anti-cool. I thought,
perhaps, if I slept on it, maybe, just maybe, it might look better in the
morning.
First thing this morning, I went to the store and bought Darkest Brown, with
a baseball cap. Twenty-five minutes later, Spicy Ginger disappeared.
I consider myself an experienced hair colorer. I know the picture on the box
doesn't truly represent what the end product will look like. However, the
lady on the box had a red-ish brown color to her hair. I had orange.
I believe the lesson learned here is stay away from hair color on the reduced
aisle at Wal-Mart.
24 March
Toxic
You may never return to the website again after reading this blog. Consider
this your friendly warning: this blog may offend you.
I am a fan of frivolous music. I enjoy music that has no social redeeming
quality. It's a good bet any song that has meaningful lyrics is not for me.
The only characteristic I value in a song is its dance-ability. Can I dance
to it? If so, I like it. Example: Usher's new song - Yeah! – currently one
of my favorites; however anything by Nora Jones is out. Crystal Method is
in, while Alicia Keys is out.
Considering all of the above, I recently bought THE frivolous cd of the year.
Yes, I bought a Britney Spears CD. I warned you.
Her cd did meet the two-song rule. So as not to buy another "Black Magic"
by Salt'n'Pepper- the self- instituted two-song rule was created. I must hear
& like two songs from any cd before purchasing. This rule has served me well,
the only exception being Low Fidelity All Stars -which happened to have a
total of two decent songs on the entire cd, the two exact same songs that
met my rule requirements.
Why Britney? Dance-ability. Her cd has dance ability. Plus since there are
no meaningful words to remember, you simply move to the beat. There also no
need to interrupt what a song means - all of her songs are about sex.
Although everyone I know keeps trashing her and the cd, they all want to hear
it. Mmmm-hmmm, closet Britney fans.
Recently one co-worker said, upon her some of the cd, she really can't sing.
Yes, but that doesn't matter to me. Someone else mentioned you can't hear
her real voice over all the electronic beats - not surprisingly that doesn't
bother me either.
I've got a history of buying music that the rest of the world doesn't respect.
Two words - Milli Vanilli. Girl you know it's true, whoever made that music,
made music you could dance to. Oooooh, ooooh, ooooh.
As you can clearly see, my music tastes are questionable.
21 March
I bee scared
I finally managed to plant something today. There's got to be a scientific
name for it, but I call it an elephant ear plant. My sister had five of em
in pots and gave me one for the big gaping hole near the house. Last summer
I dedicated an entire weekend to digging up those old lady bushes but never
bothered to plant new ones. A free plant seems to be the perfect kind of plant
for my yard.
My mission was simply to dig a hole about 2ft x 2ft. Easy. I have a shovel
and know how to use it. However the planting spot is near a two azalea bushes.
Yes, azalea bushes. I've never understood why azalea bushes are so coveted.
They bloom twice a year for two weeks then turn into brown twigs. Currently
the bushes are in bloom. What's the problem you ask? Bees. Bees like the bushes.
Not just any bee, but those big, black gargantuan bees. I've got issues with
insects that fly AND sting. And by issues, I mean run away screaming like
a little girl.
Since my bushes are in bloom, the big bees like to hang around it. Circle
it, looking for a good flower to pollinate. They don't take kindly to me digging
within two feet of their airspace.
Here's how the adventure went down: I dig a bit, hear a big bee buzz by, drop
the shovel, running across the yard, arms flaying about. After reaching minimum
safe distance, I stop running, survey the area for bees, then shake off the
willies. Back to the digging hole I go, all the while keeping an eye out for
the evil bee.
As you can imagine, between all the running and screaming, it takes about
an hour for the elephant ear to get planted.
And I wonder why none of my neighbors speak with me on a regular basis.
20 March
She Strikes Again
Today was the grand opening of KJ's karate school. In addition to classes,
we had the opportunity to participate in a board-breaking workshop, weapons
training and foam sword fights. In between events, everyone munched on goodies
for the grand opening.
At one point during the day, the ranking senior black belt instructed the
red belts to lead a class for the lower ranks. The senior ranking red belt
was Beverly, so in theory she should lead class while Righty and I assisted.
Did I mention in theory? I defer to Beverly as she is ranking senior and she
refuses. I mention she is the senior and should take lead. And again she declines...more
like mumbles "Uh-an, you two do it."
I immediately search for a black belt because I'm tired of her ditching her
responsibility. This makes 3 times where she's the senior and refuses to lead
class. As usual, all the black belts disappeared leaving us alone. Righty
lead class since she is a smidge older than me, while I assisted.
And Beverly, what did she do? Not a damn thing. She watched from the back
without assisting or commenting. Oh wait, she did tell Righty to "go slower
on that kick." Finally some input from our wise senior red belt. What the
hell? How is it no one else notices this behavior? We finish up with kudos
from the black belts, who magically appear at the end of our class.
I'm left wondering why there is a double standard concerning her behavior.
I doubt any other student would be afforded such liberties.
Why do people like this even show up for class?
18 March
Hot in Here
The temperature got up to 80 degrees today. In my world 80 degrees equals
a/c; so I was surprised when arriving for karate that we were without a/c.
The ceiling fans were on and the door was open, but it was still boiling hot
inside.
At the beginning class my instructor asked us we if wanted the a/c on or if
the current temp was ok. Nobody said a word, not even me. I had express my
interested in turning the air on before class started, so I didn't think a
repeat was necessary. He asked us again, but this time, threw in the sweating
is good for you & followed with when he was a mean instructor he refused to
turn on the air. Rah! rah! cool air is for the foolish.
It seems to me that he was issuing us a challenge - asking for the a/c would
makes us us weak. I wanted to speak up, but part of me expected him to look
down on me if I said something. So we continued class without the a/c.
Twenty minutes later, he turned on the a/c.
So was it a test of our character or a simple question of comfortably?
15 March
Nothing Much
Fritter's visit to the vet was an exciting adventure as always. She now ways
61.8 lbs. Add a trip to the grocery store and that sums up my day.
My plans to get an oil change, upgrade my cell phone and get my car inspected
were thwarted by the rain. Since they won't inspect cars if it's raining,
it was necessary to postpone it. That postponement lead to a nap, which lead
to me doing nothing else today.
Isn't it good to have a day where nothing gets done?
13 March
Hell on Earth
I experienced an event so disturbing, so horrible I can barely write about
it.
The bacon went bad.
Words cannot describe the anguish felt when I discovered the newish pack of
bacon was spoiled. Had I done something in a former life that infuriated the
pork gods? Why did this happen to me? My life will never be the same.
After realizing the bacon was spoiled I had to do the unthinkable, throw it
out. Never has a pack of bacon been tossed in the trash unless it was empty.
Today my life was changed forever.
Dance tongue dance, you will not be denied
For nothing is better than bacon when fried.
- My Three Favorite Foods, author unknown
ramblings by Whitey on 10:56 PM
107941414671837756
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12 March
Day of the Fluffer
Righty and I spent the day as fluffers. That right, you heard me fluffers.
I feel so worldly.
Today was the day of Righty's big move. So while Mr. Right-Wing and DOL moved
the big items, Righty and I were told to get things ready. Getting
things ready equals sex talk in my mind. Yes, I said sex talk. In the porn
industry, when the talent needs to get ready they call in a Fluffer. The fluffer's
job is to make sure the talent is, er, hard.
After Mr Right-Wing's comment, I followed up with, "are we fluffers now?"
Witty no? NO? Obviously not. No one else knew what a fluffer was or anything
about the world of fluffing. I call myself worldly, but perhaps a better word
is pervert. Just so you know, it was some good ole TV learning that taught
me about fluffers.
I amused myself the rest of the day with getting things ready for
the move and letting everybody know how much readying certain items needed.
Later on, DOL proclaimed himself a metrosexual. Being the voice of reason
among the group, hard to believe but true, I had to clear up his misconceptions
about metrosexuality. According to popular opinion, metrosexuals get facials,
get manicure/pedicures, wax eyebrows, very into fashion and take care of their
body. Does DOL do any of these? NO.
Then why does DOL think he is metrosexual? - because he bathes every day and
changes his underwear.
DOL and I have a love/hate relationship. I love meat; he refuses to it - except
duck, if it's cooked right. He loves Abita beer; I can't stand it. But we
both bath everyday and change our underwear; maybe there is hope for us.
ramblings by Whitey on 11:01 PM
107922913173317071
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11 March
Little Bit
Little, one of my sister's three dogs, is visiting us for a week. While my
sister and her hubby take an 8-day vacation to the islands, Little gets to
bunk with us. Since she is several years older than Fritter, I'm hoping some
of her good behavior and calm nature will rub off on Fritter. I'll post some
Little photos later.
Although I shouldn't let it bother me, the Beverly sparring incident still
bugs me. We're taught a lot about honor and discipline in our martial art,
however she demonstrates neither quality. It crossed my mind to mention her
behavior to the head instructor/school owner, but I don't want to be perceived
as a whiner. Since I do have honor and discipline, I'm just going to ignore
her and make it a point not to spar her. Don't be fooled, I really want to
be petty & kick the crap out of her, but maybe I become the better person
in situation. Besides, I can always change my mind.
No work for me tomorrow or Monday - I'm helping Righty move into her new house.
My project for the rest of the weekend is to mend the door of shame & do yard
work.
ramblings by Whitey on 11:12 PM
107906835813653836
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10 March
Fashion Talk
White seems to be the new in color and being a slave to
fashion (ahem), I've become obsessed with buying clothes in the color white.
Ok, so maybe obsessed is the wrong word. I haven't actually bought anything
in white BUT I've thought about it...a lot.
I picture myself in an all white business suit, but the reality of it is I
wouldn't wear a white business suit. For as long as I remember, wearing white
pants/skirts is a no-no- that's what my mother taught me. Not because of the
silly Labor Day rule, but rather the white makes you look fat. Well maybe
not fat, but not as slimming as black and your underwear must always be white.
I refuse to coordinate my underwear with my pants/skirts, I've got enough
of that with the karate uniform.
So I've narrowed down my obsession to white tops. Maybe a crisp white long-sleeve
shirt, or how about a stark white strectchy shirt? To purge myself of this
desire, I went to the mall; which is the best place to purge many desires.
Unless your desire revolves around beer, but give em time. Soon all shopping
centers will have beer available while shopping...in a perfect world. [memo
to self - this is THE idea of a lifetime]
I purchased a white v-neck sweater and a white sassy pull over top. I'm very
pleased with my purchases, so much so when the sales lady commented on my
lovely sweater, I blurted out "I'm obsessed with white!" I'm a moron. There's
no recovery from something like that. It's not bad enough to have a white
obsession but to frighten the sales lady with it is another animal. She politely
smiled, then looked away.
Mark my words, that little outburst will become the crazy lady story
of the day.
ramblings by Whitey on 10:18 PM
107906700563608996
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09 March
Hey bitch, meet my foot
Karate is an outlet for me to work out stress. Tonight, however, I left karate
mad as hell. The reason for my mood is named Beverly. That's right, I'm breaking
my own rule of using real names. I'll repeat it for you, Beverly. Say it with
me...wait, sneer and grind your teeth while saying her name.
Frequently we do a circle spar at the end of class. It's a training exercise
meant to improve your sparring abilities along with your surrounding vision.
It's a mock sparring match where everyone is against everyone. Once your punched
or kicked to the chest or head, you exit the floor. We use the honor system
in this exercise. If you get hit, admit your hit and leave the floor. However,
some students, mostly children, have difficulties admitting when they've been
tagged. I'm willing to give the kids a break. They're young and don't know
better. But, and you must know where this is going, when an adult repeatedly
ignores the honor system, it infuriates me.
I sparred with Beverly for several minutes and got several clear shots to
her chest. Because she refused to relent, I moved on to another student. A
few minutes later, I was sparring the hell beast again. And again I repeatedly
punched & kicked her in the chest, but she refused to accept her defeat.
The longer we sparred, the harder I hit. She spent most of her time defending
my attacks. At one point we both threw a punch to the chest and we both connected...at
the same time. She notified me that I was out because of her punch. I stood
there in disbelief. What the fuck? I pound on you all night and the first
contact you make with me, when it's clear we connected at the same time
ANDI'm supposed to leave. As I stood there shocked, I dropped my
hands and another student ran up and clocked me in the chest. Fine, it was
a fair shot; I left the floor, while Beverly remained. Motherfucker.
After I made my way to the side, several students approached me and reaffirmed
my belief she is a bitch. Actually they confirmed my thoughts that I got her
out. In fact, I was told she was actually out long before we sparred. Another
red belt pelted her several times in the chest and she refused to leave the
floor. I could let this incident pass if it was only this time, but every.single.time.
Argh.
I've decided to extract my revenge by getting better. I'm going to improve
my techniques, particularly my round kicks. I envision a round kick to her
head. She won't be able to deny a smack to her head.
ramblings by Whitey on 11:15 PM
107889574289737972
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Let's Burn Money
The WOMAN's Administrative Assistant is having one of those frou-frou buy
tons-o-crap from me parties. Specifically it's a Southern Living party, but
in my book it's equivalent to a Tupperware/Pampered Chef/Mary Kay/Avon party.
On the rare occasions I've attended a themed party where crap like this is
sold, I constantly check my watch, make sarcastic remarks, whine and annoy
everyone else while staring disapprovingly at the items for sale.
Before I learned to say NO, I noticed a common theme at each party, besides
the pushy saleslady, were the overpriced products. No, you don't say. Gasp!
Why in the hell would I pay $18 for a pizza slicer? Why in the hell would
anybody pay $18 for a pizza slicer? Let's just have a money burning party
instead; I'd have more fun.
The A.A. asked earlier today if I was attending her function. I reiterated
the above rant to her. She counter offered with beer. Psssht - I'm no fool;
even free beer won't get me to the damn party. The A.A.'s assistant, A.A.A.,
suggested we go drink before the party. The WOMAN overheard this comment and
suddenly became interested in seeing me drunk. So the conversation turns from
why I won't attend a stupid party to me getting drunk. Which I assume would
be followed by the drunk show, staring ME. What am I, some sort of circus
animal?
Within minutes, the WOMAN, A.A. and A.A.A are all obsessed with witnessing
me getting my drunk on. Why? Why is this even a topic? I drink on a regular
basis with co-workers & friends, hell I even drink with strangers when the
mood is right, who by the way, have all witnessed me drunk - it's never a
big deal to them. Suddenly watching me get drunk has become a priority. It
is because they've never seen it happen? Well they've never seen me pee either
but I don't see anyone demanding to watch me pee.
As the three women cackled about me drinking, I left the room. Which is exactly
what I would do if I were drunk.
08 March
Aisle 1
Lice.
That is the first word on the hanging aisle sign in the Health & Beauty section
of Wal-Mart. Want lice? Try aisle #1. Want a product to remove lice? Well
that's a different aisle. Bizarre.
I've recently discovered the reduced aisle in Super Ghetto
Wal-Mart. It's an aisle filled with stuff you might never need, but, if by,
chance you do need it, you'll get it at a cheap price. For instance, Clairol
Spicy Ginger hair color - $2. Normally this Clairol brand runs $9,
but for whatever reason all the Spicy Gingers were reduced. As you
guessed, I purchased one. Why the hell not? I can live with Spicy Ginger
for 2 months especially for only $2.
I also purchased a package of 3 men's V-neck plain white t-shirts for $3.
(i.e. karate shirts) For the mathematically challenged, that's $1 per shirt
and that's a deal. The package of 3 ladies v-neck plain white t-shirts runs
around $8. Why, I don't know and now I don't care.
ramblings by Whitey on 11:06 PM
107880881868071518
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07 March
Being Dead: The Sequel
Being dead makes one so very tired, so I slept most of the day today. However,
please don't think I neglected my TV learning, because I squeezed in two episodes,
in-between naps, of the soap.
All the napping has got me wondering, why do they make sequels to worthless
movies? It seems every movie has a sequel and I watch them all. I have no
will power where sequels are concerned. I have an inherent desire to see why
the sequel was needed. For instance, why was Dracula ll: The Ascension made?
What questions about Dracula weren't answered in the first suck-ass movie,
which by the way, I saw, in the theatre. Yes, I watched Dracula ll this weekend.
Yesterday, I think, when I was dead. And since I don't want to leave you hanging,
the plot of Dracula ll was...dumb - just like the first.
Furthermore was it really necessary to make Wild Things 2? I guess it was
necessary when there are viewers like me who just need to know what is going
on in Blue Bay. If possible, this movie was worst than Dracula. There was
not one original idea in this movie, oh, oh except the rich girl was smart
this time and the poor trashy girl, was, well poor and trashy. Oh it was also
made clear that men are dumb. Hee, I kinda like that plot development.
06 March
From beyond the grave
It's possible I'm dead. That's right. Dead. Ok, not really, but it sure feels
like it. After two hours of karate, plus cleaning the do jang, along with
four hours of painting, there's nothing left in me. If the physical exhaustion
wasn't enough, the junk food consumed over the past two days has reached dangerous
levels.
After class & cleaning, we held a pre-meeting meeting to discuss our group
trip to Florida. Every two years, the governing body of our karate association,
the ITF, hosts a world tournament. Initially the meeting was called to discuss
travel arrangements, money distribution and various trip details - except
not. Oh, we discussed stuff for well over an hour but no final decisions were
made.
After karate, I ventured over to Righty's new house to help with the paint
job. Here's where the crap food intake soared. In addition to the Whopper
for lunch, I dined on donuts, green cookies and Dos Equis. I doubted the tastiness
of St Patrick’s' Day cookies and beer, but I've learned a valuable lesson...beer
goes great with everything.
Once arriving home, with no real food in the house, I made a meal out of Girl
Scout Cookies - Thin Mints to be exact. If only I had a bottle of Dos Equis
with the Thin Mints, then my day would be complete.
Dr Atkins would shun me right now if he read this blog. And I can't even pretend
that I'll jump on the protein wagon tomorrow because I've got another box
of thin mints. Being dead has its perks.
ramblings by Whitey on 10:01 PM
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05 March
Share the love
O'Dell called me at 6:15am to bitch at me for posting her drunken photo.
I blame Mr O'Dell for my early morning phone call. O'Dell didn't even know
her pic was posted until Mr O'Dell ratted me out. So she can show her drunk
ass to everyone at work, work associates in other states, potentinal vendors
and clients, but if I show it to complete strangers, people she will never
meet, people she doesn't even know, she gets embarssed. I recommend every
visitor to this site download a copy of that photo and forward it someone
you know. Let's share the drunk O'Dell love with the world.
I went to see Starsky and Hutch tonight. Excellent movie. I highly recommend
it. Not only it is hilarious, but Owen Wilson gets sexier with each scene.
Speaking of sexy, there is a new white belt in class that I've got my eye
on. He looks a little young, but hey that's never stopped me before. I'm going
to chat up newbie the next time I see him and get the scoop. Or have my minions
get the scoop for me (looking at you OBC & Righty)
ramblings by Whitey on 10:47 PM
107876007736404294
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04 March
Land of the Lost
My work pager disappeared sometime last week. It's been gone for about a
week however I know it survived THE Mardi Gras. After searching the house,
the office and the Jeep, I decided it was time to report it missing. So this
past Monday I informed the WOMAN it was lost. Of all the reactions I expected,
"are you joking? We've never had anyone lose a pager before!" was
not one of them. Then the WOMAN followed with "have you looked for it?"
Is she serious? Should I even bother with a reply to that asinine question?
Besides searching for it, I paged myself so if it was in the house/car/office
I would hear it - and I told her so. After a round of "where exactly did
you look for it? did you look in your Jeep? your house? your office?"
I was instructed to contact the telecom office on campus.
Instead of replacing my pager with a new one, the telecom office called around
campus trying to find a department NOT using their assigned pager. So today
I got someone's used pager. I also got the willies. Uck! I get some random
used pager.
I've had the same pager for more than three years, cut me some slack. In fact,
I'm the only staff member who's have a pager this long. Sigh.
I've also gotten the "I hope you don't lose this one" speech from
the WOMAN. Who, by the way, made certain during the staff meeting that everyone
knew I lost a pager. In fact, from now until the end of time I will be the
example she uses when other staff members receive electronic devices. Don't
lose this like Whitey did!
29 February
Let's Swim
Fritter and her cousins, Buster, Little & BlackJack, went for a swim today.
A few times last year, we, as in my sister, her hubby and myself, took the
dogs to the river for some fun. My sister decided it was time for another
swim.
We loaded up in her truck and scouted out a few spots along the river, the
Mississippi river that is. Usually, when the river is high, it creates these
little ponds about 1000 yards from the actual river. The dogs generally get
to swim in the pond, but things were dry, so we found a small nook instead.
While this would be Fritter's first trip to this location and river itself,
her cousins have been to this spot several times.
The little nook we found was covered with small to medium sized rocks. The
rocks didn't bother us, or bother the other dogs; however Fritter was uncomfortable.
I'd go so far as to say the rocks freaked her out. Walking on the rocks was
no big deal, but walking on the rocks under the murky water was another thing.
While the other dogs retrieved items from the water, Fritter stood on the
shoreline and barked. Occasionally she would wade out into water, but bark
at the rocks and get back on land. Finally after ten minutes of barking/whining,
she jumped in and swam out to meet the other dogs. Yeah, we're having fun,
I think.
Near the end of our trip, Fritter jumps in the water and starts swimming out
away from shore. The other dogs are paddling in, but Fritter continued swimming
toward the current. The little jetty/nook didn't have much of a current and
was far enough from the strong current not to affect any of the dogs. But
if Fritter continued on her current path, towards the center of the river,
I worried for her safety. Even though we were all yelling at her and calling
her back, she continued on. Ok, so now I'm really worried. There's no way
any of us could swim out there and rescue her if she got tired or swept away.
If she continued much further, she would hit the main river with the strong
current. Gah!
Luckily my sister brought a whistle. After several shorts bursts from the
whistle Fritter finally responded and returned to land. I wasn't so worried
about her jumping in the water and having fun anymore. She could bark/whine
at the rocks if she wanted. We finally figure out, as she made another attempt,
she was swimming towards a bird. She saw a bird circling above and made a
break for it.
I like to classify Fritter as an idiot savant dog. Allow me to explain. Sometimes
she'll do something so amazing I'll think, wow she really is smart.
Then she'll immediately do something to negate her level of intelligence.
This is where I rank swimming 50 feet after a bird, circling in the sky. And
why is she suddenly interested in a bird? She's never had any interest in
birds. at. home. ever. She ignores all animals, except cats. And why this
bird 100 feet in the sky? See, an idiot savant dog.
After our swim, every one got a bath. Then we went home for a nap. Photos
from our swim.
Fritter swims
ramblings by Whitey on 10:30 PM
107829184325429866
Whatcha talkin' bout?
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