Saturday, September 24, 2011

Four Paws Up for Toronto

If I could, I'd bring every one of these cats and dogs here to Casa la Dumpa and give them a safe home full of love and laughter. Once, they thought they had that—until they suddenly found themselves abandoned, physically abused, turned out in a strange world they could not survive in by themselves. Some, the "lucky" ones, found themselves in a kill shelter, and even luckier ones were rescued from the shelters by wonderful people dedicated to rehabilitating these little creatures and finding them safe homes full of love and laughter.

Nevertheless, in 2009 forty-thousand dogs and cats were put down—killed—in New York City alone.

Are the puppy mills (and the pet stores who sell the mills' "products" for outrageous prices) solely responsible for pet overpopulation? No. There are the home breeders who hope to make a bundle on a litter of puppies or kittens, and the dumb shits who allow their unfixed pets to roam at night and come home knocked up. Oops, four to eight more unwanted kittens to deal with, what do we do?

Toronto can't solve all the problems of overpopulation, but they're sure as hell on the right track. The city has planted a seed, and hopefully it will germinate in other cities. And towns. And villages. All over the world. Yes, there are terrible things happening all over the globe, humans doing horrible things to humans, but never let us do horrible things to mans' best friends, maybe the only friends we have left.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Eating Lobsters at the Symphony

I have retired from blogging twice. The first time was December 6, 2010 and I was back posting six days after that. My second retirement was September 5, 2011 and here I is, back again on the 18th.

I must have blogging in my blood along with the red food coloring.

Or maybe I'm determined to stay connected with all of you whom I miss and love.

Yeah, that's it. I miss you. I'm going to blog until I absolutely cannot. When I'm not feeling well (commonly known as "I feel like shit"), I'll just put up my serene photo that says "Resting." That way you won't have to write so many nice things that make me cry. And you're always welcome to take those nice things back or add something like, "You're a big doody-head."

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My friend (and yours)  Wandering Coyote has been wandering all over Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island with her mother and aunt. She's been eating lobster like this was their last mating season, and she sent me this postcard between mouthfuls:

(Click for enlargement)

She and I were talking on the telephone (remember those?) last evening and I told her how much the third panel made me laugh; Her reply: "When I saw that panel I instantly thought, 'THIS is a Charlie card!' "

I'm somewhat disturbed by the number of female bloggers who, over the years, have made reference to my antenna or used some other euphemism for my, uh, equipment. In the case of Attila the Mom, "Prong" has sent her into fits of laughter (and some blue comments) for years. What I want to know is, where were you pundity babes when I was young and frisky? I was looking at my high school yearbook not long ago and I know where all those girls were: they were grazing on the football field both for the roughage and to save the school the cost of a ground crew. I must have grown up in an ugly neighborhood.

I'm sidetracked here, so visit the Coyote and her Flickr photos—all 467 of them—of her trip eastward. They're spectacular, from flowers to architecture to scenery to . . . lobsters.

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Please take a moment to visit Savannah and sign the guestbook for Miss Daisy, her mother-in-law who just passed away. Or, as Savannah titles it, Miss Daisy has gone home.

Also from Savannah is this wonderful flash mob video. Ravel's "Bolero" was an excellent choice, beginning with a simple snare drum and growing until the entire Copenhagen Philharmonic was assembled. Notice the parents. teaching their wide-eyed children about classical instruments and music. Thanks Sav—some sage once said, "Imitation is the severest form of flattery."

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Until next time, dear readers, I'll be resting . . .

Thursday, September 08, 2011

A Clarification

My last post may have led some of you to believe that I'm on death's bed having my measurements taken for my urn. Not so, at least for the time being.

Rather, I'm having technical problems with my lungs: they aren't lunging properly. And they're getting worse. It has been a helluva couple of weeks trying to breathe, with no discernible improvement. My inhaler, mist medications, oxygen, and a corticosteroid increase are all less effective—which has me both worried and anxious. Even though I knew this time would come.

The best way to conserve energy and breath is on my back, so that's where I spend up to eighteen hours a day. I read and I nap, so I'm not up here enjoying the big time. I won't be blogging any longer, but I'll leave this post open for comments and you can tweet me @prof_worm. I'll answer comments a few at a time.

In the meantime, I'm resting and waiting . . .