she's just saying...

Countdown...

To Opening Day. Less than 24 hours ...

The Red Sox announced their lineup for tomorrow's Opening Day game against the Rangers. It makes me smile just looking at the names.

1. Jacoby Ellsbury, CF
2. Dustin Pedroia, 2B
3. Carl Crawford, LF
4. Kevin Youkilis, 3B
5. Adrian Gonzalez, 1B
6. David Ortiz, DH
7. Mike Cameron, RF
8. Jarrod Saltalamacchia, C
9. Marco Scutaro, SS
SP -- Jon Lester, LHP

It's going to be a good season.

Animals + alcohol = trouble

By popular demand (OK, my brother), this week's Friday Frylet will reprise one in the series of Melissa's Pet Disasters with the Eggnog story. Enjoy, and remember, don't let your pets drink and drive.

Driving a cat to drink

We're babysitting a friend's cat while she is in the middle of a move to Seattle right now. She is having a heck of a time juggling kids, pets and apartments while she negotiates the move.

Her trials are reminding me of the times I've moved with my animals from New York to LA and LA to Bend. In 1987 I moved from NYC to LA with a cat named Cloud, who I acquired during a scuba diving trip to Montauk. (Doesn't that make my life sound exciting and exotic? It was, at one time.) I planned to fly to LA with the cat as carry-on in a kennel designed to fit under the plane seat. I asked my vet for a tranquilizer to make the trip a little calmer for both of us, and he suggested I just give the cat a little brandy to settle him down before leaving.

The morning of the the flight came, and as I was waiting for the cab, I took the cat into the bathroom of my now-empty apartment to administer the dose. I hadn't thought it through, clearly, and was not prepared with necessary syringe, straitjacket, leather gloves and other protective equipment. All I had was a bottle and a spoon. The cat instantly surmised I was trying to poison him with this foul burning liquid and spat it all over the bathroom, himself and me. Like an idiot, I tried again with the same result. We wrestled for awhile, but the cat was defending his life and was a lot more determined. I finally stuffed him in his kennel and we arrived for our flight at 6:30 am soaking wet, exhausted and reeking of brandy. Things went downhill from there.

If I ever find that vet again...

The greatest salesman in the world: my plumber

As promised, a plumbing post.

 

It all started with a slow drip. As you know from reading this blog, I consider myself handy, though when it comes to plumbing, my fix-it skills tend to worsen matters. So I waited until I collected a number of small plumbing projects and called my guy.

The first several things were routine: too much toothpaste as dried spackle in Henry's sink drain, a drippy faucet in the kitchen and a running toilet that just needed a new arm thingie. Also, the bolt on my toilet tank was leaking ever so slightly. Like a drip every few days. I just mentioned it in passing, really.

Several hours and hundreds of dollars later, I was the proud owner of a new toilet and garbage disposal, and was seriously contemplating a new faucet system. I'm not sure how that happened. And really, my life has not improved in any measurable way, something I expect when I spend $700+ dollars. But faced with the lurid graphic visuals of a garbage disposal rotting out and spewing all over the room and the toilet tank falling off, I had to act. Right? 

Now I fighting against calling the electrician. Who knows what I'll end up with?

Summer camp, already?

If you could relate to my posts about the hell of summer activity scheduling for Henry, this may be of interest.

"Big News! Bend Park & Recreation District is opening up summer registration for their recreation programs online on March 17^th  for district residents and April 1^st  for those who live outside the district. This is a big change. Normally, programs open in May. So, now you’ll have an extra month to plan what your kids will be doing this summer. Go online and be green on St. Patrick’s Day, March 17^th. To register go to https://register.bendparksandrec.org"

So now the signing-up part isn't so bad, it's just the scheduling and the paying for.

(Yes, I know this is last year's catalog cover - but I had to publish it one more time...)

The Bone Of Contention

Here it is. The Actual Bone Of Contention.
Bindi the jungle dog* kept me awake all through the night as she lay in her kennel guarding her new bone from imagined forays by the cats to steal it. Meanwhile, the cats tore around the bedroom all riled up by not being able to get out past the dog (whose kennel is outside the bedroom door). I'd throw them out past the dog and they'd sneak back, causing the dog to growl and snap and no one got any sleep.

Then at 5:30 am we got up and took a walk in the pouring rain. File this under Life With Pets.

 

(*the neighborhood kids' name for our new dog, from this show)

3.14

It's Pi day!  I've been contemplating titles for this post: Thank God it's Pi Day, I love Pi, Pi in the Sky, etc., and I hit on this:

It's Pi Day! Be irrational!

No Joe for me

Really? That's all you've got? One suggestion? You guys would be duds at the Comedy Club!

But, one's all I need. I shall now riff on Trader Joes, since I don't have much more to say about rice than I said here. I never did buy the rice cooker, btw. I realized that my heavy faux-Calphalon does just fine. One more appliance not to store.

Now to my stand-up routine. Trader Joe's. What is it about Trader Joe's?  [Pause for laughs.] Do they slip drugs in their 2 Buck Chuck or something? The place is a cult. When I lived in LA, it was truly freaky. You'd compliment someone on their crackers and they'd get all excited: "I got them at Trader Joe's!" People would open their cupboards and pull out bags of food and say "Look what I got at Trader Joe's!" Weird. You never hear people say "Look what I got at Safeway!" Right? It's a store, people. You didn't have to brave the Amazon to get those Turkey Cilantro Mini Wontons and the Gluten-Free Flax Seed Toaster Waffles.

Bend got a Trader Joe's a few years ago, to much buzz, anticipation and excitement. I'm going to confess something here: I've never been to it. To me, the place is suspect. Weird private-label packaging, Hawaiian shirts, overly happy people, I don't know. There's something not quite right about it.

And about that Two-Buck Chuck. "It's just as good as the expensive wine!" No, it's not. You just can't tell the difference.

Thanks, I'll be here all week! Don't forget to tip your waitperson.

Improv-a-blog*

There I was, posting along so regularly, feeling smug compared to other slacker bloggers, when I hit a wall. I need a topic! So,let's pretend we're in a comedy club (minus the heckling,thank you) and do some improv. Shout out a topic and I'll do a quick post on it. Ready? Go!

* Ahem. That's not improve-a-blog, okay?

An imperative date

This falls on a Friday, so it's a Friday Frylet!

A Calendar Riddle:

Question: What date in the calendar is also an order?

Answer?

60,000 people looking for chicken sweaters, and also reading my blog

At 5:18 pm PST yesterday, someone from Modesto CA arrived at my blog via a Google search for "chicken gizzards." (Boy, I'll bet they were surprised when they landed on this post.) Anyway, my site meter says that they were the 60,000th visitor to the site.

However, in recognition of #1 Sister's determined efforts to be the 60,000th visitor (she's competitive and a wee bit obsessive, a winning combination), she will get the prize that I didn't even know I was offering. By her observation, she was #60K. I can't explain the discrepancy - it's one of teh interwebs mysteries.

And yes, an analysis of search queries (thanks, Google Analytics!) shows that most people were looking for information on knitting fowl outerwear. It's an amazing world, with a lot of cold chickens in it.

This is the last chicken sweater photo I will ever post. I mean it!

The Lost Dogs

It must be dog week on this blog. Caution: this post is going to deviate from my usual light-hearted banter, so be warned.

I just finished reading "The Lost Dogs: Michael Vick's Dogs and Their Tales of Rescue and Redemption" by Jim Gorant.

It's a gruesome story, but also heartwarming and hopeful.  Much of the book focuses on the process the dogs went through to be evaluated, socialized and (most) eventually adopted. The dogs' desire to be "good" dogs, the work they did, the trust they gave and the love and joy they found is deeply moving, and highlights the rescue and redemption mentioned in the title.

The gruesome part is what the dogs went through at the Bad Newz Kennels. And who was involved, and how he's now celebrated by everyone from the Humane Society to NFL fans and President Obama. That would be Michael Vick of the Philadelphia Eagles, this season's "Comeback Player of the Year."

A USDA report stated that Vick personally electrocuted, strangled, drowned, and shot dogs. He wanted losing dogs killed rather than given away. He hanged dogs from trees, electrocuted them with jumper cables, held them underwater until they drowned in his swimming pool, and even threw his own family dogs into the fighting pit to be torn to shreds while he laughed.

psychopath
A person afflicted with a personality disorder characterized by a tendency to commit antisocial and sometimes violent acts and a failure to feel guilt for such acts.

Is he a psychopath, and has he reformed? I don't know. Michael Vick didn't stop fighting dogs because he saw the error of his ways. He operated his dogfighting ring for six years and only stopped when he was caught. He denied all involvement and confessed only after others blew the whistle.  His carefully-worded repentent statements certainly sound like the work of his p.r. team.

I would like to believe in second chances. But there's a difference between offering a second chance and a multimillion-dollar NFL contract. And now sportswriters and others are calling his standout playing comeback a redemption. If he never played after jail, would he not be redeemed?  And what does how well you play a game have to do with moral or ethical redemption?

I can't say if he's reformed or been redeemed. I can only look at what he was capable of and go from there. And on the positive side, having someone so high-profile involved in dogfighting and abuse has brought it into the national consciousness, and the results have redeemed pitbulls in some peoples' eyes.

It's complicated. However, this gives me chills:

In an interview with NBC News, Vick said he wants a dog. "I would love to get another dog in the future," Vick said. "If I ever have the opportunity again I will never take it for granted. I miss having a dog right now." What part was taking dogs "for granted?" And what part does he miss? 

OK: let the comments begin! Please know that I'll delete any racist, profane or just plain obnoxious ones. 'Cause it's my blog.

Dog Park Etiquette

1. Show interest in other owners' dogs. Exchange compliments, comment on something special they do, pat and love their dog. They'll do the same.
2. It goes without saying: pick up after your dog.
3. Corollary to #2: Look up from your phone enough to notice when Fido is doing his business. I'm talking to you, owner of the young black lab with the red collar last Tuesday.
4. Extra points for scooping random poop not originating from your pup. It's good karma. And dogma.
5. There will always be owners who don't think your dog is good enough to associate with their Speshul Preshus. Ignore them.
6. Balls are communal property. Don't bring one you don't plan to leave.
7. When a dog misbehaves, smile sympathetically then avert your eyes. Helpful suggestions are not appropriate.
8. If your boy is a humper, do your best to distract him when he starts. You may need to be vigilant - it seems to be an irresistable habit regardless of humpee's gender.
9. It's perfectly acceptable to have a warm exchange with another owner, then wander off without introductions or goodbyes. In fact, it's preferred. It's all about the dogs.
10. If you have a dog who tends toward "assertiveness," train him to keep his rope in his mouth at all times, like Bacon here.