Oh, and LuLu had asked about my sister's crop circle blog. My sister said "nooo it's not ready for prime time yet" but the SEO gods demand link-backs. Her blog has to bake at 450 degrees or it'll never be ready haha.
Plus, it's cool material. The math is all Greek to me, but it sure is cool about Buddhist monks levitating stones using sound (chanting), which she claims she has seen first hand.
Awesome. Content isn't a problem. It turns out that not being able to shut the hell up is a desirable quality for a writer. And I don't even get writer's block. The universe has aligned the necessary stars for me to succeed. My sister calls it the "abundant universe theory." It's a form of pronoia, which is the opposite of paranoia. Pronoia says that unseen forces are conspiring to help me succeed. It's just like paranoia except more profitable.
Just 2-3 more years in the code mines, slinging object-oriented code for the man. Then I'll really be Free. Writers gonna write.
While we're sharing links, here's a friend of mine learning to write (after we enouraged him to just start, no matter how unpolished he thought it): http://dribblesofinspiration.wordpress.com/
We were going to be breeders, and Spot had 6 healthy puppies, which is unheard of for a Chihuahua and a testament to the wife's prenatal care. The puppies are high dollar and high demand, but one came back to us injured and malnourished after only 9 days with a new owner, who grinded me for his money back and threatened to take him to the pound. At that point we realized our heart wasn't in it as breeders.
Then my son moved out and took his dog, one of the litter, reducing the number to 6, and a couple days later one of the owners passed away and we got her dog back, so our number remained at 7. It's a fucked up story, which is now the blog front page. The guy's mom wasn't even dead before her son got rid of her dog. We were happy to take the dog back (along with another unnecessary threat of the pound) but it's fucked up someone would do that to their mom.
Those situations would just break my heart. You love these animals (especially by the time they are ready for adoption) and then to find out the person you sold it to mistreated them....oh man. I couldn't be a breeder. I'd be worried or guilt-ridden all the time.
Yep, and that's why we have 4 of the "puppies" which are now coming up on two years old.
We should probably find a home for Scout. Right now I'd prefer he go to someone we know, someone who will post pictures and keep us in the loop, someone we know will call us if for any reason they can no longer provide a home.
If anyone here is interested, he is a beautiful dog and well mannered, with an easy going temperament. I hope this picture sizes right. He has a heart shaped marking on his neck.
My wife is a big fan of little terriers- specifically Jack Russels. I am determined to lay my hands on a Maine Coon or a Norwegian Forest Cat, just so it has an even chance of being bigger than the dog we'll eventually have.
I never wanted Chihuahuas. I have a big truck, and I wanted a big dog to go with my big truck. The wife started one day with *blink* *blink* "Can I have a Chihuahua puppy?" and she kept at it until I caved. I finally said "fine, but I'm getting my own dog, and I'll probably want nothing to do with yours."
And that's how we got Smokey. Before she was even home with him, the breeder's husband called me and started yelling at me we were trying to screw him because my wife wrote the check out for $50 instead of $500. Nope, she was just hypnotized by the shiny puppy. She got home and had to turn around and drive back across town.
My daughter called him an "URT" for "ugly, rat thing" but he got cuter as time went by. It was obvious from day one that he loved food in any shape or form. And at some point he pegged me as the bread (food) winner, claimed me, and he's been my dog ever since. One day he jumped up in my lap and I said "you are not my dog," but those were empty words. He's a total spaz, and now he's all scarred up from fighting with his mortal enemy, Lenny, but he's my dog and I love him, and I don't really care who knows it. I am a lover of little dogs.
Last edited by Freecare Spiritwise on Fri Apr 12, 2013 10:22 am, edited 1 time in total.
See, I'm the asshole that would have a pet fucking panther if it was humane, affordable, legal, and I figured there was less than about a 10% life-time chance of it eating my ass alive some day. Trust me; I know the endearment of a URT, but god damn, cats are hypnotizing.
I was a cat person before I met the missus, and I even did cat rescue. At this point, it's safe to say that I'm now a dog person. Besides, some part of a cat is always going to be wild. It's almost wrong to confine them, where my dogs have no desire to leave that confinement. Dogs have a bond with humans that a cat can never have.
Cat person here. Ours goes outside sometimes. She catches birds. (Doesn't kill them, just captures, them delivers them to me, then they flap away all pissed off.)
Just not a dog person. Never have been. I mean, I LOVE our dog, but she's super well-behaved, trained, and doesn't fuck shit up. My husband is adamant about getting another one when ours passes on (she's getting old), but I'm so frackin' reluctant because I do NOT do puppies and I'm so afraid of getting a leg-humping, drooling dog that jumps up on you and smells your ass all the time. So many people do NOT care for or train their dogs. BLEH!
I'm sure the RIGHT dog would work for me, but man . . . it's so hard to know.
My Dad was a cat-person, so I've grown up with them and they just fit my lifestyle right now. I love the quirky, often aloof and independent nature of cats and they allow you a great deal more freedom than dog ownership. Dogs are amazing, I love dogs, they are far better companions if you are looking for a serious companion pet, but freedom is more important at the moment.