I’m Blaming This Thought On Posting Before The Sun Is Up

If someone knocks on your door and your dog doesn’t bark, did the knock actually make a sound?

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Well . . . No GOOD Jokes, I Mean

Recently my son was introduced to the concept of a “pet rock,” and is currently in class with his new “pet.”

I don’t really have a joke for this.  I just wanted this event recorded.

A Recent Mental Transcript Of Mine

Oooh, peanut butter cookies!  They’re a little small, but that’s a pretty big bag, so it should all balance out.

Waaaaait.   While it doesn’t obviously say they’re for dogs, I’m seeing an awful lot of little animal pictures to not be suspicious.  Let’s see here, number one ingredient is . . . free-range chicken.

Yep.  And there it is in small print at the bottom of the bag, “dog treats.”  That’s just wrong!

She’s A Good Dog

Of course after creating a category for our dog, Isa, on Friday, today my son wants me to make an entry about her.

Okay then . . . let me see . . .

This wag is for Isa for not growling at me as I trimmed her nails over the weekend even though she hates having it done.

Per My Son’s Request, A New Category

On those rare occasions when I write about Algiz the Sun Conure, he has his own category:  Coos and Caws.  When I mentioned him the other day, I also mentioned our dog, Isa, thus prompting my son to ask why she doesn’t have her own category as well.

I didn’t have a good answer for that, so Isa now has her own category:  Wags and Growls.

(I looked into trying to continue the C and C alliteration theme, but couldn’t come up with something that wouldn’t have been painfully pretentious.)

That’s Pretty Good Advice

Today’s Tip From My Son:

If you have a dog in your house, never step on anything brown without turning on the light first so you can see what it is.

It Was Just The Two Of Us In The Car

“Oh, look!” L’s Mother exclaimed while we were in the car the other day.  “Cute puppy!”

Since I was driving, I could only spare a fraction of a second to glance in the direction she was pointing, but as near as I could tell, the puppy was indeed cute.  So cute, in fact, that the puppy reminded me of our own puppy, Isa, and the emergency bath I had to give her earlier that day.

“All puppies are cute when you’re not the one getting **** out of their fur,” I chuckled.

And Thus A New Phrase Was Born

“Hey!” I exclaimed immediately following the puppy’s emergency bath this morning.  “Don’t let her in here; she’s all wet!”

“She’s only half-wet,” Lala informed me.  “I didn’t feel like washing a whole dog.”

All’s Well That Ends Well Though

Sorry for the vagueness yesterday, but I had taken my son’s dog to the vet for a minor procedure, and was waiting all day for news that all had turned out well.

And while, as the odds heavily, heavily favored, all did turn out well, I found myself with ample opportunity to contemplate that I was the one who had taken my son’s dog to the vet, and if something had gone wrong, then I would have been the one to do my best to explain that to him.  Faced with that, even the smallest chance of something going amiss can seem daunting, but the procedure needed to be done, so it was done, and I was keeping my contemplations to myself.

Hence the vagueness.