I figure we can all use an extra lounge-type open thread this week, seeing as, well, everything. Consider this Heavily Moderated, as PZ might say. The picture above is Thistle, my rabbit who died a year ago today after a long and adventurous life. Despite being dead, he will be aiding me in moderation as he can still kick miscreant butt. It’s good practice for his War on Easter.
Since this isn’t a continuation of the lounge thread per se, some suggested topics: Rabbits, rats, recipes, the crying need for more threads about Jafafa Hots, the upcoming Doctor Who episode, whether Sherlock and Khan have ever been photographed together, your preferred caffeine delivery method, other animals we might have known who are lovely despite not being rabbits or rats, cupcakes, what superpower you wish you had, or the single most overplayed piece of music you love. Or suggest your own.
Huh???
Are you suggesting Jonny Lee Miller looks like Ricardo Montalban???
You deserve a whole comment box full of ♥, Chris.
Rats! My rats are busy putting on a “look at me! no, look at me!” circus for me at the moment. Also, munching on peas and drinking chocolate milk. And bathing in the water dish. Theo is the latest on Rattitude.
P.S.
Thistle looks so soft, I wish I could have petted hir.
*Leaves some grog soaked carrots for the bunnies*
*Pirate-voiced bunny* “Stand and deliver ye lettuce chest. Arrr!”
I’m eagerly waiting for and dreading the new Doctor Who episodes. Will the new companion be good or absolutely horrible?
And most importantly, what does Jafafa Hots think about Doctor Who?
Also, *hugs* all around
Thanks, Beatrice!
Back at ya!
What about dogs? How come dogs are always so neglected (not by you, of course)?
My childhood pet was a friendly mutt who went hiking everywhere with me. I insist on more dog stories.
My beloved cat passed two years ago near this time of month. He was a strong and proud and adventurous cat, who decided to make war against a flock of geese. He fought valiantly, but alas, he lost. I miss him very much. Your rabbit is lovely. I’ve never had a rabbit, did he live free in your garden?
When I was a kid, we had a little white mutt who could escape the back yard by climbing over the 8 foot high wooden fence.
She could balance on the middle 2×4 rail and then jump/scramble to the top!
I used to pretend my childhood lab was the Black Stallion, and we would run around the yard together imagining it was a beach. She was a good dog.
PZ:
Would you be interested in 120 lbs of unbridled enthusiastic stupidity, by chance?
The Redhead wants some roasted garlic for tonight’s talapia. Not hard. Garlic, olive oil, and oven time…
I can’t get enough of Don’t Fear the Reaper, Highway Star, Long Time, and Ace of Spades. All of them must be listened to completely, with good coffee and real whipping cream in abundance. My ex’s little chihuahua, Scooter, is also a perfect coffee companion (though he prefers jazz with a lot of horns0. He’s just a little bitty huge bundle of snuggle love.
yakizus,
I’m sorry you lost your warrior cat.
That’s a beautiful looking rabbit, Chris, I’m glad he had a long and adventurous life besides contributing to your happiness.
Uhh, just over a week until there’s new Doctor Who? My internet bandwidth is already feeling the anticipatory pain.
Thistle identified as male. So much so that he got serious revenge on me for the whole neutering thing.
I don’t use oil for that. Just pop the unpeeled head of garlic into the oven. When it’s done and cool, separate out the cloves, then squeeze the garlic out of it’s peel like toothpaste.
And Thistle was very soft. He was a mini-Rex, and that breed has unbelievably plush fur.
Do tell!
Yazikus:
He was mostly housebroken and lived indoors, but for the first few years of his life he had the run of the yard as well. Then he got older and had dietary restrictions that necessitated him being kept inside, which sucked.
I spent the day walking the dog (all five pounds of him) down a country road. We walked for an hour and a half and I’ve gotten my first sunburn of the year (in March in Wisconsin!).
My little niece is here visiting on her spring break and went with us on the walk. Naturally being several shades darker than me, she did not get a sunburn. She asked if a girl wolf could break into the house and get the (male, fixed) dog pregnant. So there was a really entertaining biology lesson as well.
There were no rats or bunnies–which surely would have made the day perfect–but it was exactly what I needed today.
Thistle can be joined in moderation by my current house rabbit, Kismet (a tan lionhead), and my deceased rabbits Shadow, Chopper, and Princess. The great thing about house rabbits is that, since I use Yesterday’s News as litter, I view the expenses related to their care as at least half attributable to the gardening budget category, since dumping the litterbox on any given flowerbed or shrub pretty much makes it explode in happy blooming growth.
For that matter, Thistle can be joined by our 3 cats, our ball python, our 2 painted turtles, and every single red wriggler in my vermicompost bin, our 2 deceased goats, and some hamsters who are currently pining for the fjords…
I’ve read all the threads this week, but I’ve also had flu and no spoons to deal with fools.
Hee hee! Reminds of that (AT&T?) commercial where the little girl tells a whole story about a werewolf. If it turns out she didn’t make that story up by herself, I don’t want to know it.
@moarscienceplz, thank you. I like to think he led a happy life.
@ Chris
That is lovely, what a lucky rabbit. I love “well cared for pet” stories. I recently had one gentleman tell me about his tortoise (which was given to the CA Parks dept in the sixties) and ended up in his possession due to it being unable to survive in the wild (it is a protected species). He is now 106 years old! The man who keeps him takes very good care of him and told me about the little license plate he has on his belly to show that he is allowed to be a pet. Apparently he is fond of green grapes, and loves to wander their garden.
It’s okay, Chris, Thistle is running with El Arairah now.
Can I say that on an atheist blog?
I loved the way Richard Adams developed the lapine language through the book, so that by the end he could have one of the characters curse in that language (with no translation given) and you knew exactly what he’d said.
When I was in my teens, we had a doberman-shepherd mix, Bo. Shepherd size, doberman markings; an impressive dog. He was trained to protect the yard, and that’s what my parents bought him for. They wanted a dog to protect the place when we were gone on weekends to the Weekend Cabin. Alas, Bo interpreted his mission as protecting his _people_, and would whine and moan for us in our absence, so we had to start taking him along with us. Which pretty much made him useless, as far as my parents were concerned. For me, he was a sturdy and fast friend, faithfully sitting with me in the evening when I did my homework and taking me on walks. (There was a leash, with Bo on one end and me on the other; but it was mostly me keeping up with Bo, because he was so strong.) His worst enemy was the paperboy, who rode past every day and threw something at the house! He would throw himself at the garden gate, trying to get that evil paperboy.
I went away for some student weekend thing and when I came home, Bo was gone. Parents had the Useless (TM) dog put down while I was away. I accepted it stoically in front of them. I cried at night.
In memory of my wife’s late pet rabbit, “Tea Cosy”, I shed a tear with you. Bunnies are sooo soft. Except for the teeth.
Oh Karen!
That is so sad!
Let’s make a. Even though I prefer more heat, I bet some extra cilantro and brown sugar would work better.
Karen, ugh.
Stairway to Heaven
Yes it’s overplayed, but it’s overplayed for a reason…
…
Dat solo…
…
Yeah, I failed with the HTML. Can someone show me how to make a link with a custom title?
Karen:
D: D: D:
PZ:
The dog that I had growing up was Hobbes. He was a golden retriever/German shepherd mix– huge and orange (hence the name). He was ornery, ate cat shit, and could open any gate that my father could devise and broke every lead that my parents bought (my dad eventually bit the bullet and fenced in the back yard). By the end of his life his arthritis was so bad that he couldn’t walk and my dad carried everywhere. It was a sad day when Hobbes was put down. He may have been a colossal asshole, but he was our colossal asshole.
My favorite pet was my rat Simon, who died 7 years ago. Litter trained and very loving. There’s really not much more you could want from one of those little guys, is there?
We just got a new kitteh from the humane society tonight. We’re introducing her slowly to our resident furball, BB. The new cat’s name, from the humane society? Also BB.
Two cats named BB. Together, they’re BBBB. Or the Beebsy Twins. GirlBB and BoyBB. I CAN WORK THEIR INTO SO MANY SONGS!
I’ve never had an animal companion. I’m very jealous of you all.
Oh, dog stories.
Sorry, I don’t have any of those. We had some dogs when I was young, but I never really connected with them.
jesse:
<a href=”link”>text</a>
Don’t forget the quote marks!
David M. already posted the link below in the actual [Lounge] but after reading the Adria Richards thread, I seriously needed another dose of this excellent antidote. I’m reposting it in case it is needed by others:
After Exams.
Well, time to mosey along. Good weekend, one and all!
Wait! Has anyone posted Calming Manatees yet?
Thistle was adorrrable! We had a silver marten rabbit called Pete for ten years when I was little, a most awesome member of the family. He also had the garden to run around in every day but he chilled out with us in the house as well if he wanted to. I remember one Summer’s day my Mum was sunbathing with our old dog and the rabbit doing the same either side of her c:.
I have some (bad quality D:) photos of our ratties for Caine: http://i236.photobucket.com/albums/ff123/ohexploitable/6fd5db87-c141-430d-b92e-3ab4b83d6a15_zpsc39e6940.jpg
And an old photo of my cherry shrimps, ’cause they’re pretty cute too: http://i236.photobucket.com/albums/ff123/ohexploitable/6_zps5a539a5f.jpg
Hello, fellow cheesehead! You have stamina, because it’s TOO DAMNED COLD for this time of year. I have cats, so I only need to walk myself.
I can provide a picture of an itty bitty snakelet egg toof?
http://imageshack.us/a/img16/9204/valaclutch1.jpg
Now I miss my first doggies extra much. Best dogs EVAR.
this?
My current pet is a Cuban tree frog. I found him outside where he didn’t belong. He’s been incarcerated for @ 4years. He’s in excellent heath and his favorite food is Florida palmetto bugs (big frikkin cockroaches). He also changes colors depending on his environment and moods. He can hit pasty white, and range into various greens and browns, and into a luminescent copper. I’ve seen him go aqua once. He sings during mating season.
Jesse:
Well, the link went somewhere (the Food Network, specifically), but the page only displays a 404 error. :(
Dog stories: When I was a tiny little sproglet, we had a dog named Peaches. When we would go out, we’d turn off the kitchen light and pull down the shades in the window. When we’d come home, the light’d be on, the shades up, and Peaches would be sitting at the kitchen table surveying her backyard domain.
Overplayed songs I still love: Dylan’s “Like A Rolling Stone,” just about anything by the Beatles, Madonna’s “Material Girl” (mostly for the sneakily awesome drumming), and, if it counts, Beethoven’s Pathetique sonata.
How about a funny (depending on how you look at it) guinea pig story?
I have found that I prefer guinea pigs over rabbits. I don’t exactly know why, perhaps it’s because they’re quite vocal. Any way, when I was a teenager one of my neighbours bought a pair of female guinea pigs. Except that it quickly became apparent they weren’t both females and eventually babies ensued. Wait … that’s not the funny bit.
He offered me one of the litter for a fairly minimal sum (five pounds IIRC) and as soon as it was weaned I was the proud owner of a beautiful white, brown and black female (all the survivors of the litter were females) guinea pig. I doted on her; picking fresh dandelion leaves from the garden and letting her run around the house when my parents weren’t home (making sure to pick up her leavings). I made her a little portable cage out of chicken wire so she could graze on the lawn.
After about a month I noticed that her abdomen was noticeably swollen. A week later even more so. I was worried even though she otherwise appeared in perfect health. A week later it was positively distended. While holding her I realized that there were actual lumps in her belly. I was able to make out four distinct objects. Carefully putting her back in the hutch I told my mom my conclusion : my guinea pig was pregnant. I was told not to be silly and stop fussing over it.
Over the next few days I became more and more convinced of my diagnosis, even more so when my mom had no other explanation (mom always had an explanation). The big moment actually came while I was at school. Mom casually mentioned that I should check the hutch. Which I did, to find five babies and mom all cuddled up. Eventually I gave one of the babies back to my neighbour and sold two for five pounds each.
Now if you’ve been following along you’ll notice that at no time had my guinea pig ever come into contact with any male guinea pig other than her own father. Which means …
I made a profit from guinea pig incest!
Mike
I just got the results of her CAT scan and Biopsy back today, and my cat has Squamous Cell Carcinomia and it’s already terminal, as they often are at discovery. She’s doing pretty well all things considered. She’s got no clue she’s sick really… I hope she can stay that way thru the majority of what time she has left.
8^(
rowatvt
SO CUTE :D
I have an 8 year old(I think, she was given to me) sinaloan milk snake named Snukkysnuk, she’s a doll and pretend-venomous.
As a kid, I had a talkative siamese cat named Kiki. She used to meet me on my way home from the bus stop after school, and then sit on my bed and talk to me while I changed clothes.
@yazikus:
That story gives me a happy. (I read ALL of Walter Farley’s books!)
Mayonnaise Jane, so sorry.
I’m glad she’s got you to care for her and love her for the time she’s got left.
@Anthony K
As someone remarked, while pulling a hand back from one of my old cats:
G#
Chris,
I want you to know you’ve created an addiction in me. Every day I come home from work and watch an episode or two of QI. I’m at Series 7 (G-XL) right now.
My only question is why do people think Johnny Vegas is funny? Bill Bailey and Phil Jupitus are funny. Rich Hall, when he can be bothered to say something, is funny. David Mitchell’s rants are hilarious. Jo Brand, Dara O Briain and Jimmy Carr are very funny. Alan Davies is both funny and a great deal more intelligent than he seems at first glance. Even Jeremy Clarkson is more than tolerable. But Vegas just isn’t funny.
My sister-in-law has a big leopard tortoise. In the wild they cover a lot of range; this guy just wears a rut along the periphery of the yard. If the gate’s left open you have to start asking the neighbors where he is. One mile per hour sounds pretty slow, but he can actually cover a lot of territory.
I was cuddling my infant nephew one day when out of the corner of my eye I saw A DINOSAUR COMING INTO THE HOUSE. It was just the tortoise crawling over the threshold, but an alarm went off in the primal levels of my brain.
My dog stories mainly make me sad nowadays.
I was crazy about my dog, Snoop. When I got home from school he and I would just go rambling — we’d go off exploring ponds and little patches of woods and blackberry brambles scattered around the farm country we lived in, or just head up into the hills and vanish for a while. My grades actually started to slip a bit — I was getting Bs, with my usual C in PE, and my parents were getting annoyed. My father told me I’d have to write an essay about why I was screwing up and what I’d do about it. So I did. I wrote several pages about how much I loved just exploring with my dog, and how important it was that I got out and enjoyed nature, and how Snoop made me happy. I gave it to my parents with a bit of dread — it was punishment, after all — and then I went upstairs to my room.
This was an old house with a single heater on the ground floor, with vents in the ceiling so that the heat would rise to warm the upstairs. I could lie down on the floor in my bedroom and look down through a grill into the living room, which of course I did, with Snoop by my side. And I watched my parents read my essay, and could see their reaction.
They laughed.
It wasn’t what I’d expected. I’d poured my heart out into that very serious essay, and they found it hilarious. I was so humiliated and embarrassed that I couldn’t bear to write for years afterwards. I focused on math and science after that partly because you didn’t have to write essays, just solve problems. And my dog…well, I was still crazy about Snoop and nothing could change my affection for him, but playing with him was also a reminder that I was a dumb kid.
Then later he got killed by a car, which I discovered when I got off the school bus and found his mangled body lying by the roadside. It broke my heart and turned me into the cruel callous bastard I am today. And now you know why.
blitzgal
Huzza for Wisconsinites! I had to get down to my t-shirt a couple of times because I was so hot, in fact. I was born with thick northern blood. It’s probably a good thing that it is still cool, as I’ve been inactive for so long that I’m sure I would have overheated otherwise.
Bunny’s Story..when the locals gardeners complained to the mayor at a meeting last summer about the over abundance of rabbits that were eating up their flower beds and such the mayor took a wonderful approach.he used the moment to praise Minneapolis and the high quality of it’s ecosystem that made it wildlife friendly.
next question…
…Bunny thread? With extra doggie?
Radagast’s Racing Rhosgobel Rabbits: A Recreational Musher Looks At the Realities of Bunny Sledding
With pictures. LOTS of pictures.
In retrospect, do you think you understood correctly why they were laughing?
I’m afraid to say lest I be banished forever.
I do have a story about one dog I’ll never forget, but I won’t tell it because it won’t make anyone happy.
She haunts me.
…Thistle looks quite the pugilist in that picture. :)
Rat terriers are very smart. The first day I brought mine home, he figured out how to completely break the half-broken latch on the back door, that if he knocked over a container of golf balls that he would have toys everywhere, and if he dropped one of them on my face at five in the morning he would get attention. Not positive attention, but still attention.
Took me weeks to find all of those stupid golf balls.
Chris:
You dastardly devil you.
Surely you aren’t trying to brighten the place up with a fun thread for people to relax in.
Ok, you win. I will play along.
I have always wanted to fly. As far back as my youth, when I was introduced to comic books, flying was the power I wanted. Sure I was hooked on Spider-Man as a child, but seeing characters like Superman or Thor flying around just looked so cool. I have rarely remembered my dreams, but I do recall a recurring series of dreams that I had years ago where I did nothing more than soar across the planet, taking in the sights. At times I flew higher than the clouds. Other times I would soar alongside trains. The most exciting times were my flights underwater, where I would encounter undersea cities. Now that I think of it, I am surprised that I remember that stuff. It has been 5? 10? years.
Oh, and Thistle? What a beautiful companion. I am sorry for your loss. I am reminded of my dog Max. He was the first dog I’d ever owned (as an aside, I have grown uncomfortable referring to the animals in my life as my possessions. They are my companions. Part of my family. I love them. I get mad at them. I play with them. But I don’t own them. I wish there were other words to convey their role in my life that do not imply I am their owner. Does any of that make sense?). He was an awesome black labrador, shar pei mix (the latter was only visible on his snout, at least that what I was told by the Humane Society where I adopted him from). I remember visiting the Humane Society sometime in 04 or 05, looking for a dog. I wasn’t looking for a lab (can’t remember what type of dog I wanted). There were 16 cages with adoptable dogs. Most of the dogs were big and though that didn’t mean they were adults, I wanted a puppy (yeah, I kinda feel bad about that now, as older animals often have a harder time being placed in homes). When I came upon one cage, I saw 5 or 6 puppies. Little adorable labs. They were hiding in the back, and were rather skittish. I crouched down, partially opened the cage and called to them. Only one of them came my way. He approached me somewhat cautiously, stood upon my knee and began licking me.
Guess who came home with me?
Max was amazing. He became socialized pretty fast. He laid down, rolled over, and sat on command. He would wait before going outside until I gave him the ok. When I would greet him at the end of the day, I’d open the patio door and he would run up to me and always, ALWAYS, lick my right knee.
Max loved riding in the car. I’d often play with him outside and if I opened my car for anything, he would always, without fail, dart inside, as if he was ready to go somewhere. Sometimes I would take him to a soccer field and we would run back and forth through the field. He always chased me. It was so much fun.
A few years ago. Halloween 2008 while I was at work, he (along with my other dog, Krystal, and E’s dog, Sham), escaped the yard. When I got off work, somewhere around 11:30 pm, I got a text from E saying that they had escaped. Max had gotten hit by a car and died. Krystal and Sham were missing. On my way home, I stopped to see Max one last time. He was laying just where E had found him. That was the last time I would see him. Thankfully Krystal and Sham turned up overnight. One of my friends took care of calling the appropriate agency to take care of Max’s body, for which I was grateful.
I miss him to this day.
He was a fantastic dog.
The Redhead and had pet rabbits for about 8 years after we were first married. Nice critters, but sharp teeth.
Caine @13:
What gorgeous dogs (and rats)!
Karen:
I’m so sorry.
That must have been devastating.
Jafafa Hots, I’m pretty sure PZ has raised the sad dog story bar to stratospheric levels at this point.
Superpower I would want: Invisibility. Not for creepy voyeuristic reasons, or even to commit any crime. I’d just like to be able to go wherever I want to without having to worry about other people’s reactions to me.
Also, this happened today speaking of sad animal stories. So there’s that.
My pup has long been not a pup, and I hate that I’m preparing for loss – I think him and I will spend a good long weekend hiking soon as the weather improves. He deserves it every beautiful weekend. Don’t let me back down on this!
The Doctor has, as a result of his “death” last series (not the ’13 Fall but the ’12 Fall series) has ceased to exist in the minds and in the Universe and in time…. That’s my timey-wimey prediction anyway and would love to hear holes poked in that. (I really think the foreshadowing was pointing to it… Maybe the Daleks were the last ones who were able to give ‘existence’ to the Doctor and when he purged the database on the Daleks asylum planet, he purged himself as well. And now that Amy and Rory are ‘gone'[I don’t think they are] then he is ‘unseated’ from time…)
Oh yeah, I am also wearing glasses for the first time in at least 5 years and so I’m really happy about being able to see clearly again. Now I can’t wait for all the high-def I’ve been missing out on, especially the new Who…
About Jafafa: xe finally followed me on Twitter! And I was laughing my ass off a few days ago WRT #safetytipsforladies.
And Tony. I’m so sorry. Max sounds wonderful.
Tony, thank you! Jayne (the huge, stupid one) is half White Shepherd/half Chow. The smaller one is Doll, a White Shepherd/Coyote cross. The rats in that gallery are Chas and Alfie – remember me telling the story of Alfie the Rescue Rat in the lounge? Alfie was the one who would run through the house tracking Chas for me.
Can we talk about alive pets for a minute? ‘Cos my Maggie cat just plopped her fluffy ass down beside me and she’s totally sitting like a person.
Sure Audley.
Living pets actually reminds me I need to get home and feed me cats and dogs. I’m sure my tabby Kayta will be waiting by the door waiting for food…
Maggie sure is a cute kitty. And yeah, sitting like a person.
Tony!†,
She’s cute and she’s probably the snuggliest cat I’ve ever owned. She’s not too hot on sitting in laps, but she will snuggle up beside you and purr and purr and purr.
†I like the exclamation point. Feels like I’m about to run up on you to give you a hug.
Audley:
Cats imitating people, eh what? Next they’ll demand a seat at the table for dinner.
Lofty:
Give me a minute, I have a picture.
I love my Sasha, but i don’t spend enough time w/ her. I feel bad, but there’s not really anything about it I can do right now.
Worse: she’s a husky, and it’s spring, and Ms CripDyke has an allergy which is relatively mild *most* times with *most* dogs, but with Sasha in the house in the spring? Oy.
Speaking of, she’s whining at the door. Gotta go let her in.
Cheers to Sally, if she shows up. I’ve got garlic bread, leftover soup (better the 3rd day), and that 18 year old scotch.
Sexism? What’s sexism?
Now if only I wasn’t so relaxed I’m ignoring transnational law!
That’s pretty adorbs, Audley. BB♂ does that on occasion, though he’s more likely to roll right over onto his back and fall asleep, legs splayed every which way.
I don’t know what BB♀ does, but she’s sure snugglier than the write-up at the shelter suggested. Maybe she just needed a quiet home.
BB♂’s a little more yowly about the whole thing than we expected. This introduction will probably take a few more days yet.
She has.
Thanks, Anthony! Maggie was a stray that my mom found, not chipped or anything.
I’ve never been into dogs, or rabbits (vermin!!!) but my two cats say hi. Or rather, “squee” and “squick”, because those are their noises. Small grey zippy Zeppo has the loudest purr ever and big fluffy dozy tabby Archie has the quietest.
Thumbelina. We’d just moved into our brand new house almost 60 years ago and a pretty little tortoiseshell cat appeared at the back door. We have to keep her, we cried. As my sister was six at the time and I’m not a lot older and some kind person had taken us to see the Danny Kaye film, Hans Christian Andersen, this pretty little cat was named Thumbelina. All very well, all very predictable, but we insisted that calling kitty, kitty or puss, puss was not good enough, mum had to call her by name. At which point the tongue twisters she’d endured during the elocution lessons of her teen years paid off. You try calling thumbelina, thumbelina, thumbelina, thumbelina until the stupid cat turns up.
As usual for such animals, she very quickly presented us with a litter of kittens – two of them being ginger males. We gave them equally elaborate and inappropriate names – dad wanted to call the darker one Pete and his paler brother Re-Pete – but both sets of names disappeared quite quickly. No idea where the names Oigle and Rastas came from, but they stayed with us for another 15+ years. (Being so young, we fully accepted the parental lie that the mother cat and the other kittens had “run away”.)
Funny about cats being affectionate, you don’t really notice how much it’s a part of them until something happens to change it. When sister brought home yet another ginger male cat several years later, Oigle was deeply offended. He’d pointedly ignored the cute as a button ball of fluff when they were introduced when she got home from work. A couple of hours later after dinner, we went into our 1960s living room with the 1960s television sitting on its four legs. It was a bit distracting trying to watch tv when immediately under the screen was the firmly turned back of a cat sitting squarely in the centre of the space between the legs, staring at the corner of the room, refusing to talk to anyone.
And he didn’t “talk” to us for six+ months – I remarked to mum that Oigle marching down the hall towards us was acting out of character because he was ‘talking’ as he approached. Then we remembered that that was how he’d always been before the interloper overturned his little world.
This doesn’t involve rabbits, or even pets, but it does involve awesomeness. This 9 year old girl is planning on making an age appropriate rpg to show that she can do it, and to support women in tech industries, and she’s on kickstarter.
http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/susanwilson/9-year-old-building-an-rpg-to-prove-her-brothers-w
She’s already made her first goal, which was to raise money to go to a STEM camp for game design, and her stretch goal is to get a laptop for her game development.
Is there any chance that danielsutton’s comment @ #87 can be upgraded to a blog post? That’s worthy.
Well, I have insomnia and I can’t sleep and anxiety is being stupid so here I am, I suppose, until the meds kick in. My ability to deal with sad pet stories is low tonight, so I’m gonna talk about my cats, both of whom are alive and well and licking themselves in my vicinity. I know PZ doesn’t like cats, but screw him; I’m sure he’d change his tune if he met my Voldemort.
Yes, I did in fact name one of my cats Voldemort. (The other, Oscar, was named by the SPCA prior to my adopting him, and I have a Thing where I don’t like to change a pet’s name one it’s been established as such. This was especially true for Oscar, who was not a kitten when I adopted him, though he’d only been wearing the name Oscar for a few days.) Voldemort is a very special cat; he’s absolutely gorgeous, with a very soft, longhaired coat, he’s extremely affectionate, loves ALL THE PEOPLE!, purrs like a motor, and is quite talkative. When I found him and made the decision to keep him (he was not claimed, and likely abandoned by the assholes in the apartment below my own after they moved out), he was taken to the vet for a check-up. I’d had him for about 4 days at that point, and still had no idea what to call him, but I knew the vet would need a name. Thus, Voldemort, or He Who Shall Not Be Named.
My Oscar is generally pretty shy, and hides when other people are around, though he’s very affectionate with me (on his own terms, of course). Voldemort, on the other hand, wants all the petting, all the time.Neither of my cats cares much for being picked up. Oscar can be a real lap cat when he’s looking for attention, but Voldemort would might rather be on the floor when he receives his petting. Voldemort likes to ensure maximum petting coverage, you see, and will roll around so that his back, belly, and both sides can be petted.
Voldemort is quite dedicated to this rolling ritual. Earlier today, Oscar spilled some of the water from the water bowl. Being that it was just a little water, I wasn’t in a rush to clean it up, and Voldemort came wandering in looking for petting before I had a chance. I didn’t need to clean up the water after that, because Voldemort would never break his desire for maximum coverage over a little spilled water, and so of course he rolled all in it as I was petting him. He’s not an especially bright cat.
Okay. That was a bit therapeutic. Or maybe the meds finally kicked in. Regardless, no more hey-why-can’t-I-breathe anxiety feelings, and it makes no difference to me what the reason is.
Fionnabhair:
PZ has had cats, the anti-caturday stuff is a ‘net thing, done in fun. Also, this Chris Clarke’s post/thread.
Also, this is Chris Clarke’s post/thread.
FIFM.
Sadness at lost animals. 8( 8( 8(
I finally figured out how to get pictures off of my phone, and a picture of my Tadeus (several actually) was created in the world.
What is it with cats and hair ties?
Natural prey, Chris. Natural prey.
Never had pets aside from three gerbils in elementary school (two of whom ate the one who died first…THAT was fun to come home to!).
But my sister’s friend Stephanie had two cats, Dribble and Cisco, whom i grew up alongside. Dribble was a bit misanthropic, likely because Steph kept trying to dress her up, but she was quiet and sleek and kept in good kittycat trim.
Cisco was a shelter rescue, and he seemed to know it. He was the most affectionate cat I have ever met, to the point my mother called him “cuddle-slut” at times, LOL. He would follow me out the apartment door, and meow and meow and meow. He’d walk in front of me to the sofa and jump up and wait for me to sit down, then park himself across my lap and purr like an idling diesel.
He died so long ago I don’t even remember when. You could tell his kidneys were failing, and his back legs didn’t work anymore right before the end. It was one of my first experiences with death, and I miss him a little even today, even though he was a friend’s cat and not mine.
Someday, money and circumstances permitting, I will adopt a lonely adult cat from the shelter. I will know him, or her, on contact; all those stories about a cat and a human knowing they’re right for one another on first sight have to come from somewhere, right?
Sometimes when I am feeling desperately down (which is often) I watch Watership Down on YouTube.
The full thing is uploaded there as one piece.
It makes me all sniffley.
Three things
1. I would like a Rabbit but I’m not sure my husky or 110 lbs. lab would pay nice
2. I just watched the Hobbit, and while I was entertained I was disappointed with the liberties Taken with the story
3. I am currently fermenting, canning and pickling everything I can get my hands on
Oh and my father in law and I hand built he house we live in 6 years ago yet until this year my wife and I haven’t gotten around to putting in a garden. This year we finally did.
Pretty fucking fired up about that.
I pick recipes!
5L Salt Water
3 large cinnamon sticks
10 bay leaves
bring all to a rolling boil
meanwhile, wash
500g dry split peas
and give them into the boiling water
keep boiling and remove foam until no more appears, reduce heat and let cook till peas are very soft (~2 hours, else try pressure cooker)
meanwhile wash and cut up a bunch of vegetables, any kind you like, the more diverse the better ( I’d always put at least 1/4 potatoes). Carrots works great, tomatoes coarse cut, egg plants, squash, cauli flower if you have, whatever you have actually. Throw everything into the pot, it should look like many veggies in a pot.
heat up a heavy pan (medium heat, no oil) and add a hand full of cumin seeds. Stir to prevent burning, When they are dark, take them out and do the same with a hand full coriander seeds. Grind them to powder (if you have no mortar, use a kitchen-board and the side of a broad knife).
Add oil (a little more than you think you would need) to the pan and heat up on high heat. Add half a hand full of mustard seeds and immediately (!!) put a lid on the pan. When the mustard stops jumping around add quickly half a hand full of freshly ground ginger, as many fresh sliced chillies as you like (it should be spicy), one spoon turmeric (or not), half a spoon ground black pepper and the cumin/coriander powder from above. Stir for 1-2 min and pour everything into the pot.
Put a lid on the pot and simmer on low-medium heat until the veggies are done.
You can chop up some fresh coriander if you have and stir it in before serving.
Serve with bread (nam, chappati or other) or rice or fou-fou.
This recipe can be scaled up and down from a few plates to hundreds of servings. Make one pot during the week end, have lunchboxes till Friday. Vegan, healthy, incredibly tasty, not difficult to prepare and maybe also gluten free (ask your dietician first).
Fionnabhair, we too have an Oscar, that’s him staring out of my avatar box. He’s half siamese and has a tendency to be loud and anxious. He loves being roughed up and has a good memory for the guests he likes and hates. At 15 he’s a robust old kitty, and the 6 year old female kitty Tansy keeps him on his toes. This is the first time in my life where I’ve had two or more cats that virtually never fight. I can’t remember why he became an Oscar, it just happened.
Today I was the victim of a home invasion, held at gun point, tied up… while baby sitting at a friends house. I haven’t processed it yet, and I dunno. Guess I’m freaking out a little.
<blockquoteToday I was the victim of a home invasion, held at gun point, tied up… while baby sitting at a friends house. I haven’t processed it yet, and I dunno. Guess I’m freaking out a little.
Dutchgirl, I’m pretty much useless at this stuff, but since everyone seems to have gone to bed, just wanted to say you’re not being ignored, and yikes.
You have every right to freak out.
I have to go to sleep now but take care of yourself tonight.
Thank you, Jafafa. It’s not late where I am, but I figured most mainland people went to bed. I just needed to say that it happened to me in a safe place. I have a very supportive husband, and when I am in him arms I feel fine. But I can’t stay in his arms forever. But that’s where I’ll be tonight.
Dutchgirl,
I’m so sorry. I’m glad you weren’t physically hurt (at least it sounds so from your comment), and that you have your husband to give you comfort and support.
*hugs*
yes, not physically hurt.
Is it a coincidence that the bunny looks like a resurrected zombie in Skyrim?
Dutchgirl,
more *safe hugs*
I’m sorry I can’t hang around to chat and give comfort, if writing can make you feel better while you’re freaking out (which is not surprising in the least), but I’m sure some other Europeans will be around soon.
‘Grandma’ was our first rabbit, and she founded a thriving colony, 40 strong, which we ate during WWII… but we never ate Grandma, and she was allowed to live out her life… I even had a pair of rabbit fur gloves, as an Infant school pupil.
Once past producing litters of her own, she would still make a nest, and gather stray baby bunnies into it – I suppose that’s how she got her name.
The Doctor’s new companion, Clara, is a) gorgeous, b) cheeky and c) very bright and active.
Dutchgirl: YIKES. Glad you weren’t injured, and hope you find your way to cope. Best wishes.
As for pets… I don’t want to go into the very sad dog story that left me with a lingering anger at my father that still smoulders – and he’s been gone 3 years himself.
I will talk about the cats we had when I was a youth; at one point Mom and I went to the shelter, and a litter of kittens had just been made available for adoption. I went over and scratched on the cage – some of the kittens hid, some of them looked over but didn’t move – and one bundle of orange fluff bounded over to the front of the cage to see what was up; we adopted him on the spot. That bare double handful of ginger kitten grew up to be a 22-pound Terror To Rodentia and an absolutely sweet lovesponge with people; I could carry him around on my shoulders with his forepaws in one hand and hindpaws in the other and he wouldn’t struggle at all; eventually he’d meow in my ear to let me know he wanted down.
I wanted to call him “Mr. Marmalade” but parental resistance left him with the highly generic name of “Cat.” Some time in his adulthood, we adopted another kitten – a pearl-grey female, the runt of her litter who didn’t so much meow as … squeak. You can probably see this coming – we named her Mouse. As Cat was often out hunting all night, he mostly wanted to sleep during the day; active kitten Mouse wanted to play, so for a while the giggle-inducing spectacle of wee Mouse chasing big burly Cat through the house was fairly common – until Cat realized that there were places he could jump to that Mouse couldn’t follow – and he finally got some peaceful snooze time. (Despite all the grief she gave him, Cat never so much as raised a paw to her. Once she calmed down some, they often napped together.)
As for music I still enjoy Orleans’ “Still The One” which was absolutely beaten to death in an ABC advertising campaign. I love all of Toni Basil’s music – yes, including “Mickey”. I do not skip over “Escape (The Pina Colada Song)” when I listen to Rupert Holmes’ Partners In Crime album. (My favorite song on that album is actually “Nearsighted” … because I am.)
There are some songs that may not be overplayed generally – but if I listen to once, I’m probably going to repeat a few times before moving along to something else. These include the title track of a-ha’s album Analogue (and the video for it is pretty amazing, at least to me), “San Say” by Hiroshima, “The Flat Horizon” by Wang Chung and recently “Odyssey (Part 1)” by Johnny Harris – which was used in the episode “Space Rockers” of Buck Rogers in the 25th Century.
Superpower? Teleportation, hands down. Telekinesis – with resolution down to the atomic level – would be my next choice. (e.g. – if there’s anything expendable that contains oxygen near me – I can breathe.)
Caffeine? Coke Zero (I has teh diabeetus) or decent English Breakfast tea with a touch of sucralose. I will point out one very minor plus for religious observance; around this time of year in areas with a significant Jewish population, you can get Coca-Cola Classic made with real sugar – not High Fructose Corn Slop – to be Kosher for Passover. And yes, despite the manufacturer’s claims to the contrary – there’s a definite difference in taste and mouthfeel.
Dutchgirl, *safe hugs*.
i realised while reading this thread what day it is today. Despite the various pets I’ve loved these last 43 or so years (cats, dogs, rabbits), and who have loved me in return, I am overwhelmed by the 6-month anniversary of the demise of my most beloved homonid, Ruth Ellen Given. perhaps this is what is meant by time dilation – only an instant ago she breathed her last, yet it feels like eternity. bah fucking humbug. it hurts too much to talk. or even type.
yubal @99
Nothing like the nasty, soapy taste of coriander to ruin any food it comes in contact withy.
Me @111
If anyone needs an extra y there’s one available.
I prefer transdermal caffeine patches.
Ugh, been trying to sleep for hours. Just can’t seem to clear my mind. Hanging out with my two rattie friends Jules and Verne, looking at silly cat pics on the internets. Thank you everyone for the hugs and sympathy, it actually helps more than I thought it would.
I choose pets we have loved.
We had to euthanize our 12 year old cat 6 days ago, out of the blue. She had a healthy well-check 2 months ago, but had been generally keeping to herself in my husbands office for the last few weeks. Not totally uncommon for her as we were packing to move and causing chaos and she hated chaos. She had developed a huge crush on my husband about 6 years ago, and spent mosti o her days following him around the house, lounging next to his keyboard and using the number pad for a headrest. Or maybe jumping up to the back of his chair and being so ungraceful that he’d be worried she was going to hurt herself and put her down in his lap. (Her leg was broken as a tiny tiny kitten, and she’s never been known for her poise.) If she couldn’t find him, she would howl the most unmelodic and pathetic yowl until he would call her and she’d come sauntering in. She slept between our pillow at night whenever there wasn’t a baby taking up the spot, otherwise she’d end up in the hollow behind David’s knees.
Four days before we move, I realize she’s looking awful: too skinny and an oily coat. She was normally very fastidious, cleaning herself and one of the other cats to a fine sheen. She regularly gnawed the eyebrow whiskers off our Siamese in her enthusiasm. I get her an appointment in Sunday, and realize she has a hard extension of her ribcage, larger than a golf ball. You couldn’t feel it unless she was standing up and you ran your hands down both sides. Vet trip confirmed worst suspicions. It was probably a soft tissue sarcoma, didn’t show up on X-rays, and very aggressive. Some bloodwork showed that her kidneys were also failing whether from metastasis or just coincidental Old Cat doesn’t really matter. We chose to euthanize her that night instead of trying and failing at palliative care during a complete upheaval of all of our lives. It really really sucked. I’ve held 3 of our animals as they’ve died, and I hate it. My husband can’t do it, so it falls to me. Abby was his constant companion for 12 years, so I can understand not being able to handle the end.
She and our Siamese were the two cats that David and I got that made us a family instead of just boyfriend/girlfriend. It was very hard to let her go, I just got the call from the vat that her ashes are back,so I steeling myself to go pick them up.
Oh Abby. She had the softest fur. It was like she had no topcoat, just the downy undercoat. And while her tabby stripes muted over the years to a dilute grey, she always had perfect tan eyeliner and an imperious look.
Dutchgirl, that was a horrible experience. I hope you recover from the mental trauma soon. My kitties would send hugs if they knew you, for sure.
And you too, cgilder.
Rabitts. mmm. cute. But sadly they suck, suck, and blow.
I know, that these aren’t Ken Ham creations that manage to hop from continent to continent and over the Wallace line they hopped, but were brought over by possibly well meaning (for differing values of well)….But the damage they’ve done to animals that we can no longer see (because of the damage), or have been reduced to a ghost of their former pomp….
They and the long dead people who introduced them suck, suck and blow.
Sorry, that’s how I’m feeling now. Australia has such a shit record with its animals. And seeing cute bunnies on every corner, means no bilbies, potoroos, betongs, etc. The only plus I see, is that the magnificent Wedge-Tails have something to eat….
Dutchgirl, I’m so sorry to hear that. If you find you’re having continued difficulties because of this there’s no shame in seeking professional help. My, admittedly cursory, understanding is that PTSD treatment has come a long way in recent years and that early intervention makes it more likely to be to be effective. Think of it as first aid for the brain.
Anyway, I’ll just leave this pile of hugs, and chocolate, and booze, and calming manatees here on the credenza. Help yourself to whatever suits.
Tea.
Dutchgirl:
! I’m very relieved you are physically okay. It’s going to take a while to process this and dealing with the trauma will take time. Be kind to yourself and remember to breathe. Hanging out with rats is good – one of mine, Amelia, got me through a severe time recently: http://ratifiedtwentyfive.wordpress.com/2013/03/19/special/
Hugs, fierceness and guard snakes all offered freely to you, Dutchgirl.
Cgilder, I’m so sorry for your loss of your kitty. You did the kindest thing possible though and as a vet tech I thank you for it.
I have 4 cats and a dog (and all the snakes) and sometimes I really ‘regret’ the kitties because they’re all so close in age. I love them to bits (even when they’re being expensive monsters), but I have a 9 year old, 8 year old, 7 year old and 5 year old. And I know I’m probably looking at a massive death-spree in 5 to 6 years. :/ I’m particularly gonna miss my Mallorn because he’s such a shy and gentle kitty who loves loves loves head scritchies and laptime. And he says part of his name “Mal!”
Here’s something to make the Pharyngulite hordes merrier: a recipe for Chocolate Pixie cookies. It’s a surprisingly good recipe. The bodies of the cookies are very chocolate-y and not overly sweet, while the coating of confectioner’s sugar on the outside is very sweet, providing both visual and gustatory contrast.
CHOCOLATE PIXIES
Sift together:
2 cups flour
2 tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
Melt together, then cool slightly:
¼ cup butter
4 squares baking chocolate
Blend into butter and chocolate and beat for 1 minute:
2 cups sugar
4 eggs, one at a time
Add
½ cup chopped walnuts, black or English
Mix in dry ingredients well. Chill. Form into balls, 1 tsp dough for each. Roll in confectioner’s sugar, place on greased cookie sheet. Bake at 300° F for 18 to 20 minutes.
Makes 3 dozen.
Rev. BigDumbChimp A #97
I’ve been defending the liberties for a while, so…
Those liberties are actually liberties taken straight from Tolkien himself. Peter Jackson is using the appendices to LotR to more directly tie the Hobbit to LotR. So most of those liberties aren’t liberties really, just that Jackson’s pulling from more than just the Hobbit for the movies. This is why the movies are a trilogy.
DutchGirl… holy hell, I sincerely hope you’re okay. I’m glad you have a family that’s so supportive, and I hope you get through it. Safehugs if you want them.
Chris, what a welcome respite you’ve created in this thread! Thank you!
Thistle looks like he was a gorgeous, soft, fluffy rabbit.
I’m really enjoying the pet companion stories, the funny asides, the affectionate banter and that recipe from yubal at #99 – YUM! Cannot wait to make it (and thank you so much for explaining how to get the spices ready!) Ulysses – lol! (cilantro lover – nay, craver! – here, but I hear you on behalf of some cilantro-intolerant friends).
dutchgirl, OMGs! I am so glad you were unhurt, physically. It is the only small comfort in what must have been a horrendous experience. I wish you peace and a recovery of your sense of security.
Mr Nifty and I are companion-sitting for an extended period for one of our daughters who is working overseas right now. Ducky is the most adorable, smart little dog.I will miss her when we give her back, but I also long for my daughter to have her dear little friend back at her side.
deoridhe @ 92:
Aww, your Tadeus looks a lot like my Sophie (only thinner).
cgilder @ 115
And that sounds just like my Sophie. I was adopted by her as her official person. She doesn’t care much for anybody else, but she’s attached to me. I’m so sorry to hear about your loss. She sounds like she was a beautiful, sweet cat.
@Rowanvt
We’re in that point now. 3 of our cats are 12. Two now, I guess, and the other one is 7. I dread the next few years.
And on a lighter note, the most overplayed piece of music that I love is Carmina Burana. In my defense, I love the whole thing, not just O Fortuna.
My favorite over-played music is Pachelbel’s Canon.
Somewhere I have a CD that contains about 12 versions.
Salon made some good fun of the mormon-centric “celebrations of marriage” going on in response to Prop 8 being considered by the Supreme Court. Utah and Washington DC are ground zeros for mormons exposing their homophobia … again.
“The Osmonds are a little bit country, a little bit rock ‘n’ roll — and a whole lot homophobic” excerpt:
Linky.
My favourite over-played music is Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons and has been for decades. I loathe that pieces of it have been used for every fucking commercial/advert on the planet.
From the comments below the Salon article mentioned @129:
My favorite music to avoid is Donny and Marie Osmond’s Elvis tribute.
I used to have a greyhound who died a few years ago. In the meantime I acquired 2 rabbits. I wish I could get another greyhound but they are not good for the rabbits’ health. Any ideas about what kind of dog is okay with rabbits. I also have 2 cats who ignore the rabbits (the cats are too well-fed.
More mormon funny stuff: the “Second Anointing” super-secret, super-sacred temple ceremony that includes a wife washing her husband’s feet.
In the past, ex-mormons brought up the fact that it is highly likely that Mitt Romney and his wife have been blessed with a Second Anointing, and that this assurance of godheadhood possibly accounts for some of Romney’s arrogance and cluelessness when faced with reality.
Today, ex-mormons are discussing the Second Anointing ceremony again.
Excerpt:
Thank you everyone, and thank you Chris for this thread. While guard snakes are super appealing, I will have to decline because I would not want to introduce an invasive species to paradise (no snakes in Hawaii). My sweet husband is driving me to work this morning so I don’t have to be there by myself. While I’m physically fine, the trauma was very real. Hugs and happy thoughts in my directions are super appreciated.
Here is some fundamentalist mormon (FLDS) weirdness: they have more surveillance cameras in their rural/desert compounds than does downtown London. Salt Lake Tribune link.
This is good for a laugh: Pat Robertson is warning us to be wary of “seamsters” quoting the Bible. He says they are all over the place, and we should run from them.
YouTube link. Video excerpt is only 19 seconds long.
Watch, and then run.
Ulysses
Give Jonny Vegas some time. At first I didn’t understand him at all (English not being my first language and Jonny’s pronounciation not the clearest), but thanks to the QI transcripts I finally can hear what he’s saying. And seeing a man as smart as Steven Fry wave mental white flags at the sheer absurdity of Jonny’s comments is pretty hilarious.
Strangely enough, the moment I read Chris’ post about QI I was just watching an episode of it (actually, not that strange, since I pretty much always have them running).
Dutchgirl
Sending you a big hug. Be safe, and, more important, I hope you’ll feel safe.
danielsutton @87:
I agree. That young girl is awesome. I love that her interest is being encouraged by her family. It was also heartening to read that she breaks out of some traditional gender roles. I hope she is successful!
Dutchgirl:
My deepest sympathies.
I’ll skip the sad pet stories to concentrate on current ones. Every day I am astonished at how lucky we were in acquiring the rescue Bombay cat that “belongs” to my son. No pic because, well, Bombays are black, very black, and unless the light is bright (some yellow eyes) or the mouth is open (a touch of white and red) he just doesn’t photograph. It’s more like a region where there’s a hole in space.
Anyway, this is the most patient of cats. Our son is somewhere on the ASD spectrum with a sprinkling of ADHD, depression and anxiety thrown in for good measure; he’s also oversized (6ft2in at 15yr, proportionally since birth), loud and klutzy (no spatial awareness). He doesn’t always “get” that those he’s interacting with have reached their limit and that he should “back off”. All that could have been too much for a cat (it was for the previous cat, though she’d always had been a bit ornery). This cat puts up with it all and still comes to him of his free will. And I think my son would be much sadder and lonelier it weren’t for that cat.
Our most recent addition is effectively mute. Ever once in a while when she’s really desperate for attention make the softest of “ow” sounds. But she does love to be picked up and carried around. She’ll let you know by stretching out and with her front paws as high up on you as she can reach (claws fully extended, just in case you might not notice, oh, yeah and for stability).
Chigau, Me too. It never fails to brighten my spirits. My husband once made me a CD of Pachelbel’s Canon played a variety of ways. My favorite was the version played on the koto.
Dutchgirl, I’m so sorry. I’m glad are safe now. I hope you get some rest.
I love my dogs. They’re so loving and funny. However, my heart belongs to my elderly kitty. I’ve asked him to live forever. I think he’ll give it a shot. He’s thoughtful like that.
Jackie:
My Shandy Kane tried. She died shortly after her 21st bday.
Every so often I find a comfy spot, make sure I’m alone, then put on the Carmina Burana CD and crank up the volume. Great stuff.
Hmm… most overplayed song? Probably “Crazy Train”, because I use it as my wake up alarm.
Thistle looks totally Watership Down. That’s a compliment, BTW.
—
Strange, sad, funny, sad, cat cartoon:
http://theoatmeal.com/comics/house
Lofty:
Heh. I do the same. Love it.
dontpanic:
Is this what your Bombay looks like?
That is very similar to what my first cat, Cleo looked like.
Pachebel Rant
That’s at least 14; I might have missed some. ;-)
cm #146
That Oatmeal is wonderful!
(Warning: it has dead pets.)
Caine #130:-) http://www.niftyatheist.com/2013/03/spring-has-arrived.html (scroll down for the music!)
Tony@148, yup. Here are some actual photos. And yes, that second one is him in the Christmas tree at about shoulder level, because
reasonsvantage point.… is that rabbit purple? OK, maybe not purple exactly, but. Wow, what a beauty.
I don’t think Chris ever told us quite how Thistle exacted his revenge/expressed his disapproval …?
.
Happy pet memories: my brother had two white rats, I had a ginger tom. The three of them would hang out sometimes; the rats would scramble all over the cat and the cat would lie there apparently unperturbed and quite happy to let them.
.
Happy dog memories: when DaughterSpawn was a baby, before she could walk, the huge GSD we had then would let her take a chew right out of his mouth (not that we ever left them unsupervised: a baby can easily hurt a dog, and that’s not good for or fair on either party). Got it on video, too :-)
She gave it back.
Yeah, he’s gorgeous. My partner–LordGodKing of all Bunnies–is napping so I can’t get an expert’s input on Thistle’s color, but Lilac is a coat color in rabbits (and there’s also an entire breed called Lilacs). Not quite purple, but it can definitely hint at it strongly. Here is a Lilac Mini Rex (Thistle’s breed). I’m no good at identifying rabbit coats outside of really obvious ones like Tans, so I don’t know what Thistle’s coat would be described as.
Pet stories?
Okay.
This story contains sad, funny, and happy.
This story concerns my grandparents’ dog, Cassie.
Cassie was a German shepherd puppy rescued from a dingy basement, where she was in a box with her siblings. They’d all been badly mistreated. One had to be euthanized soon after rescue, and another had to be later, when it was realized he was flatly incapable of being around humans.
Based on color and shape, the puppies were presumed to be purebreds, or nearly so. But of course it is hard to say.
My grandparents adopted Cassie when she was around 8 months old. She had temperament issues, was flighty, and was scared of everything. Not just the “standard” vacuum cleaners/dishwashers/storms. Staircases, doorbells, certain makes of cars (even when sitting parked), etc. They adopted her, took her to classes that were as much about obedience school as trust school. A German shepherd – a dog bred for herding sheep – who needed to be taught that it was okay to protect her “herd,” and that she wouldn’t be hurt for doing so. These classes were interspersed with trips to the vet to treat the aftereffects of the abuse she suffered.
After six months or so, my grandparents were upset. She was growing bigger – nearing her full size – and they did not seem to be able to get through to her. She was aggressive towards them, was violent and destructive, and actively fought. She was big and strong enough that they feared for their safety. Reluctantly, knowing full well the implications of this, they decided that they were going to have to return her to the rescue agency.
So it was that one day in March, my grandfather took her for a walk, planning that afterwards, she’d be loaded into the car and be taken back to the rescue agency (probably never to leave it again). She saw a squirrel and wanted to chase it, and took off. A 30 kilo dog (mostly muscle) was easily capable of tearing her leash from the hand of a 75-year-old man, and she did so. But he fell, and hit his head.
When he regained consciousness, the EMT told him that he had “a very loyal dog.” Because they’d been forced to call animal control to drag her away, because she’d been guarding him, preventing the crews from getting to him.
So he went home, with her, and called the animal rescue agency – he would not be bringing her in.
Cassie lived to be 15.
Two years ago, nearly crippled from the hip dysplasia that affects so many dogs, she had a stroke that left her partially paralyzed. Due to her age and the low probability of recovery, my (now widowed) grandmother had her put down.
Cassie was a good dog.
!!! I forgot the funny!!
So, Cassie was many things (strong, loyal, beautiful, scared of her own shadow). One of those was “not terribly bright.”
So the family was all up at our camp in rural Maine, and Cassie made a new friend. A small black catlike animal with a white stripe on its back. However, this status of “friend” was sadly one-sided, and poor Cassie comes running back, seriously stinky and very sad.
This was in the pre-cell phone era, and my father had just taken the only car to go to town to do some shopping.
“Town,” for the record, is a 30 minute drive.
So we had to wait for him to get to town, do the shopping, and then come back, so that someone could go and buy tomatoes to de-skunk the dog. Meanwhile, she was very sad and just wanted to lie down on her bed and feel sorry for herself. The bed that everyone was united in saying she was not allowed on (or inside). When – sometime later – we finally had enough tomatoes to wash a huge-ass dog, we (with difficulty) bundled her into a kiddie pool and gave her a tomato-y bath. She thought this was hilarious. And afterwards, the conclusion was that everyone – humans and dog – needed to go swimming, so that is what we did.
:D
For those “dreading” the demise of cats, I can’t say anything about dogs or rabbits, remember plenty of cats live much longer than you’d expect. Much longer. Don’t worry until you need to.
Our Pearl is now over 21 and pretty happy and healthy. Deaf as a post, a bit picky with her food from time to time, cataract on one eye, won’t wash more than her face and hands, but physically fit – I’d like to see her put on some condition but she was never bulky or fat in the first place. Under a fluffy coat, dainty can become scrawny before you blink twice.
Hmm. Hookah bar? Can I still smoke a nice Cohiba Puro Dominico?
And I have cats. Had dogs while growing up, but it was more heartbreak than joy.
I can offer up a 30 pound cat with the IQ of a stunned mouse, thougn.
Meat trigger warning!
I expanded my life list this weekend. We went up to Philadelphia to Party with Friends. When we do this, if the timing is right, we like to pass through Kennett Square and have lunch at the Half Moon Saloon, whose speciality is exotic meats (they also have excellent taps and bottles, I suppose, wines, though I have to trust W.U. and various friends on that).
So, this weekend I had camel chili and an antelope burger. For the life of me, I couldn’t tell the difference between camel and the wildebeest I had last year at my neighbor’s house*, but maybe that’s because I’ve only ever had either in chili format. Antelope burger was quite interesting. I was totally prepared for that nauseating “gamey” flavor I’ve tasted in venison and kangaroo. However, even though there was a distinctive “wild” taste, it wasn’t nauseating at all. A distinctive flavor that I expect I would label as exotic even given a blind tasting. However it was quite lean, which doesn’t really make for the best burgers.
*Neighbor is a filmmaker whose team won a grammy for Great Migrations, and there was an African meat themed buffet at the celebratory party.
End Meat Trigger!
Overplayed music: Aqualung, hands down. I’d say Jesus Christ Superstar or Bohemian Rhapsody, which I’ve played much more, but then I recall that I always sing along with those two whenever I replay them, attempting all parts myself simultaneously.
Pet rabbit story: A friend had a job as an itinerant pet sitter for a while, and one of her clients had a pet rabbit that she visited morning and night for a couple weeks. Besides doing basic kinds of feeding and playing and stuff, one of her tasks for the bunny was this:
Let the bunny out of his crate, and bring his favorite pillow down from its special shelf. Allow the bunny to molest its pillow-lover until satisfaction was achieved, wipe off pillow, place back on shelf, feed and play with bunny. Return bunny to crate.
*borrows Portia’s truck*
*makes EU-prescribed beeping noises while backing up*
*dumps huge heap of hugs on the ground for people to wallow in*
Jump in like a seal! Burrow through them like a gopher! Throw them into the air so they rain down on your heads and stick to you!
hmm, how long before a heap of hugs take root and grow into a meadow of hugs?
Not a HUGe amount of time.
“Meat trigger?” Did someone seriously just compare descriptions of eating meat to a very real need to put “hey this is about rape this may cause panic attacks” in front of a post?
Several people have stated that they find descriptions of the preparation and consumption of meat disturbing and distasteful, and after being badly laid into by one of them, a particular Lounge Regular started the habit of putting warnings at the beginning of posts that contain such descriptions…which has apparently caught on.
Is it harming you?
I bet it doesn’t include this one ;-)
Levity, maybe?
Just to be nitpicky… I actually started posting the vegan/vegetarian warning last year but unfortunately fell out of the habit. The more recent nonsense had the benefit of reminding me that there are good and decent people like Salty Current who are vegan for ethical reasons and are put off by descriptions of carnivorous eating. Typing a quick warning and allowing vegans and vegetarians to avoid comments that will potentially upset them is basically NO price to pay to encourage a welcoming environment.
People are triggered by a lot of things. Triggers mean different things. I had to give a verbal trigger warning to my betrothed that this thread contained a lot of incredibly sad animal stories. I think warnings over meat eating are fair. Kind of wish I’d had one about the rabbit-eating upthread.
I have been known to use the phrase “trigger warning” in attempts at humor, along the lines of “trigger warning: David Gates and Bread video”. I appreciate the reminder from Azuma @ 165 that this may not be as funny as I intended, by which I mean to say “not funny at all, Clarke, you trivializing jerk,” and I will think about that.
I had a cat once that was neutered as an adult and it would occasionally molest our smallest pillow.
The New Zealand Herald is exclaiming that a digital poll proves New Zealanders are falling out of love with same-sex marriage. Now they have their own up. Please show them otherwise.
Markita! Markita speaks truth!
My countryfolk have shamed me. The pavlova is made soggy, the Marmite crystallises in the jar. The All Blacks’ jersies are rent.
Go Pharyngulate that damnable thing.
Thistle was very handsome.
Lilac is a colour for cats, too, IIRC. (I swear, I’ve read at least one Cat Fancy article mentioning a lilac-point cat.)
The March Hares are going Mad here.
We never see them but the footprints in the snow tell strange tales.
WMDKitty, it is! It is! My cat is a lilac and looks nearly lavender in the right lighting. Here is a lilac Scottish fold for reference.
I think we need this thread.
I wish more people would comment here.
—
We clipped the kitteh’s ingrown toenails.
Those people who post those yuhtub things about how easy it is are LIARS.
—-
[insert bunny or bunnyproxy here]
bunny
bunny
bunny
[is it easter yet?]