There is what’s meant to be an amusing video making the rounds on social media showing a flustered young dog, trying to grasp, bite or chew the ‘bone’ painted on the bottom of his water dish.
I'm Just Saying
Every four years in this country, precisely after midnight on November 9, the Canadian immigration website crashes.
As it did this year.
Alright, I’m going to say it.
And I know this won’t win me any friends. It’s even possible I might alienate every reader I’ve ever had. But here goes:
I don’t like modern day cupcakes.
It is both my prayer and belief that when Joe Mann, proprietor of Big Oaks Rescue Farm, left this earth on Tuesday, beneath a delicate crescent moon during a clear, glorious autumn morning, that he was met by every horse, pony, cow, and assorted livestock that he tried mightily to save but who instead were brought home by the divine physician.
It was with great anticipation that I set up the ‘critter cam’ (also known as a hunter’s trail camera) borrowed from my neighbor, Jay (because Paul didn’t get it for my birthday despite two months of hinting and hiring a sky writer), alongside my arena where, each morning, paw prints of various sizes and shapes indicate some sort of animal rave
Most people, I should think, monitor their recovery from a broken bone or sprain by noticing an increased strength or flexibility in their range of motion during perhaps a golf swing, knitting, or simply carrying a bag of groceries.
Me and Junior went riding.
Someone once told me that when you see something that shocks you, and then your opinion is requested, simply state the obvious and no one will be offended.
Example: your boss shows up wearing a ridiculous suit and asks what you think of his turquoise checked, teal ensemble. You reply, “Now, that’s a suit!”
Coming home from a performance in Hendersonville, which should have, frankly, included combat pay for having to negotiate down the Saluda Grade at 10 p.m. with a line of big rigs snapping at my heels, I was astonished to see the glow of a cell phone in one driver’s hand as I was passed by one car, whipping ahead of me.
After a particularly busy morning, coupled with living amid the chaos of a bathroom demolition, I thought I might treat myself to lunch at our local joint. I’m not a meat eater, but there I can get the best Greek salad around, or alternatively, eggplant parmesan, if I don’t plan to do any heavy lifting for several days.