Who, other than the far left and right don’t think the election was rigged in 2020? There is enough Zuckerbucks, midnight mail boxes, stopped counting and faked floods (Atlanta) that even my dog can see through it.
My dog
It’s the people revolting, at the ballot box. It’s why our deep state has to rig the voting, DOJ, media, Big Tech and whatever else they need to stay in power.
I’m not fully confident that an actual win by one side couldn’t be overturned by shenanigans either in an October surprise or vote tampering.
After Covid-19, I don’t trust anyone from a government agency. I do trust the will of the people and for a moment in time, they had their say in Italy.
This is the male guarding the nest a couple of feet below him. The hen is on the nest now, so there must be eggs. He sits there all day now.
I found out that they are Song Sparrow’s. I’ve left them food and stopped gardening near it for a while. There is nothing that can’t wait, but at the rate of growth up here (Spring just started and we still have 50 degree days in the Blue Ridge Mountains), I’ll have to hack through the weeds as everything plant and animal is exploding to life.
I hope he fights off the cowbirds, who are also here. They lay eggs in other birds nests and are way bigger than the sparrows, so that chick would get all the food. I let nature do it’s thing.
I wrote about the death of a pet last fall hoping that Spring would bring this day for me. I was sorry to see Fred go.
In one week I have a new spider and will have baby birds that I get to watch. I noticed the sparrow on the ground gathering nest material in the field outside of my house. I wondered where the nest was, only to find later in the day that it was just outside of my kitchen window.
I named her Wilma after a little sister in my Fraternity. I don’t think she’d appreciate it, but the spider reminded me of her. Only later did I realize the Fred and Wilma Flintstones connection. Fred was named for a guy I know from the town that I moved away from recently, not Fred Flintstone.
Here is the sparrow’s nest from this morning, sorry for the blurry picture, I had to zoom it in a long way:
I don’t think I’ll name them as they fly away. The spider will stay with me until almost Thanksgiving and will provide me entertainment every night until then. I will love it when the baby birds hatch.
Some pets are less personal than others, but these will be interesting and part of nature I don’t always get to watch.
I’ve been reminiscing about when I was young. I’d flit from one thing to the next, never worrying about what was around the next corner. I didn’t plan for tomorrow unless it included fun or something for me to do that wouldn’t affect my retirement.
Now, I can’t take a dump without working out what I’m going to do next and plan my time around it.
My kids are grown now, but I told them to not grow up too fast. They all have mortgages, plus pets and kids that rely on them, like they did on me.
I hurt a lot more now. I’m sore from my first round of golf of the year yesterday, and I didn’t even go at it that hard.
I’ve had multiple dogs over the years. They have all had different personalities and I loved them all, in different ways.
Barney was my first dog when I was a kid. I don’t have a picture, but he was part Boxer/part mutt. We got him from a friend of my Dad’s when he was going off to seminary and had to give him up. As far as I was concerned, he was always ours. He went to the beach with us on vacation and was part of the family.
Those were the pre-leash law days so he roamed the neighborhood on his own. He left his mark on the street with many little Barney’s and some pissed off neighbors. Dogs will be dogs. He was a car chaser and got hit. He recovered, but as Mom said, it took the spirit out of him.
When I got my S*** together in life, we got Conan. He was a rambunctious Golden. Through a breeding mistake, he got hip displaysia and only lasted 10 years. He was happy and had a good life. I learned how to train dogs and we bonded. As with all our dogs, I understood what he needed and took care of all his medical needs.
Bandit was my day pal. We picked her up from a breeder. I’ll be honest, we got a boxer because we wanted a smaller dog than Conan and a female, but we got a bundle of energy that was more than 3 Conan’s. As I think back, we got her because of Barney. They were the same color and size. She was fearless and friendly and loved everyone.
We named her Bandit from the dog in the Jonny Quest comics that I watched faithfully.
I was working at home by now. Being an introvert, I was happier being with her than people and she was by my side. We were together almost 15 years. It was almost like ET and Elliot. I knew what she needed intuitively. Where I went, she went. I took care of all her needs and she was my dog more than anyone in the family because of her.
Bandit
I got her ashes, but couldn’t bear to bury them until I processed my feelings. I planted a dwarf Japanese Maple and she rests now forever there.
Bandit’s Tree
After taking a year off when Bandit finally left us, we decided to venture into the dog game again. I decided on a rescue and took my son to adopt another dog. He was with me when we got Bandit, but being so young, I picked Bandit from the litter to try and get the right one.
He helped me with picking out Boone. He noticed that out of all the dogs we looked at, he was the most gentile. While he looks lie a black lab, we later found out that he was part Boxer, so I guess that is a the theme in my life. He doesn’t have the energy that Bandit did, but neither do I anymore.
He is a great dog. Again he and I bonded more than anyone else in the family, even though he loves everyone and every other dog. Cats and deer, not so much.
My son was attached to Bandit and to Boone. When he went on his own, he got his own dog Raider. She is also colored like Bandit, but is a mix of a lot of breeds, a mutt. She is a great dog, but with a lot of energy. She is less friendly with other dogs, but loves Boone.
Without trying, I bonded with her also. She knows I’m an alpha and that I am the lead dog in the pack.
I know what they all have needed and what they like, it’s almost a sixth sense. I’m not a dog whisperer, rather through observation and empathy, we know we are together.
I love my dogs and they love me. When I have people problems, the dogs have always been there. I’ve been fortunate that they have all been good dogs.
Sometimes when life goes to shit, they are the only friends I have, at least it feels that way. They always by my side, without any pretension other than wanting to be with me.
Well, not in the true sense. It’s more the death of a visitor.
I’ve had spiders that are outside of my house in the mountains. While my wife used to freak out when one got inside, she has become brave enough to dispose of them.
When I saw this guy up close how it caught the bugs, we became friends. I’d seen it before, but it was more personalized as this happened only inches away, separated by a pane of glass.
Spider massacres like these are even more jarring when you consider that spiders and humans are not so different. Though our evolutionary paths diverged at least 530 million years ago, we share many of the same organs and body parts – such as kneecaps – and similar brain chemicals, from dopamine to adrenaline. No one has ever studied spider emotions directly, but it’s easy to imagine that they might be more relatable than you would think.
Equally, their brains are hardly heavy on their spider shoulders (or in their legs – there sometimes isn’t room for a full brain in a spider’s head), but there’s increasing evidence that some kinds are capable of remarkably complex intellectual feats, such as planning strategic detours to trick their prey. They may also have their own unique kind of intelligence, in which they’re able to use their webs to help them think.
I could have opened the window and cleared out the webs, but one of them came every night at sunset. I watched it grow to an impressive size (I don’t know if it was male or female yet until next year if there are any hatchlings).
I even named it Fred, after an acquaintance. That personalized it for me. It became familiar as I watched Jeopardy to have Fred come to the center of it’s web, and start the nightly hunt.
I looked up what kind of spider Fred was, and I think he was a orb weaver spider.
By morning he/she was gone. It hid up in a crack in the window.
It’s been getting colder where I live and I knew it would be time to lay eggs (if Fred is female) and die. I wanted him to last as long as possible
Earlier this week, I noticed that Fred didn’t come to pay a visit. I knew where it lived and finally checked the space yesterday and he was gone. I was even going to retrieve the body and bury it, but there was nothing.
I’ll clean out the webs now and see if a progeny shows up next year. Even if it is a female, it will likely be Fred Jr.
It was traumatic for me when I lost my 3 dogs, not so much for Fred. But, I was sorry to see him go, and that short time of the night when he appeared now has a hole in it.
But, I’m retired so everyday is Saturday for me. I don’t have deadlines or conference calls or personnel issues today. Man I don’t miss work.
I don’t miss Facebook that went down yesterday. I didn’t even know it until I read about it. I’m glad to have that ball and chain out of my life also.
I have a brother-in-Law who is retired not by choice, but defined his life by his job. He doesn’t know what to do. I feel sorry for him. Life is much greater than your job.
For now, I’ll pet my dog and enjoy what comes next.
My posting has been light as I’ve been moving. It’s almost over. After I get the final truckload into a temporary storage place today, I can finally relax.
This has been months of ass busting to get things ready, turning me into a carpenter, plumber, painter and a no paid laborer.
After that was going through everything I’ve collected, including family stuff dating back to at least 2nd grade. A flood of memories came over me as with each picture or item, I felt the same emotion from decades ago. I also felt the loss of those who were there and are gone now. Some of the memories hurt, some were better. I decided to tell myself that I should be happy that I got to have the memory rather than let it tug too hard at my heart strings, dragging me down.
I had to throw out half my life. Those who will have to clean up my mess when I’m gone should thank me for doing it now for them. I had to go through all of my parents stuff when they died, which took years as some stuff was legal and I had to hold onto it, until this move. The final stuff is now gone, save for a few pictures and mementos.
My life is going to go through another phase now. I thought I was going to live my life out in the last 2 houses, yet here I am in a temporary place until the next one is ready.
It was a lot easier moving when you are younger. You have less shit that you accumulate and no one else to answer to. Now it’s “do you need this or do we need to keep it”. I had a lot more energy then and I know what to expect now.
When you are young and don’t know what is around the corner, it is an adventure. I know every phase of moving, including what is next, and that most people I have to rely on will be late and not really care about me except as a paycheck
I threw or gave away many thousands of dollars of stuff. It won’t fit where I was going and I got tired of selling stuff so I donated most of it to those who need it more than I do. I hope it serves them well. I’m happy if someone less fortunate benefits.
So by Monday, I’ll be as back to normal as I’ve been in a long time. Man, I hope so.
Back to the memories and moving adventures, I realized how freaking old I’ve become. For the first time, it’s dawned on me that the future is no longer endless. As each of us contemplates eternity, I hope you have prepared your soul. It’s way more important than a legacy
Reality bites us all in some way or another. I’m living through that right now.
I get to make a long drive today. This is what it’s going to look like in feeling except I’m alone. I first thought that this guy was by himself, but I’ll pretend it’s his dog, who would probably be a helluva lot more quiet.
FWIW, I’m looking to get another truck after I’m through with my current car. I’ve enjoyed them every time I’ve owned one. You get to sit up high and see everything. You are also further away from others that way.
The partner next to me today will be no one. My company is an audible book. The title is Algorithm’s to live by, by Brian Christian. It is mind blowingly complex thinking, but really helps you in life and will turn your mind internally by a mile.
I do get to see the rest of my family and dog when I get there and look forward to it. I love them, but being alone lets me re-charge my social energy.
But that one-to-seven ratio is wrong, researchers found — it’s a misunderstanding of how dogs’ aging processes compare to those of humans. Instead, according to a July study, genetic evidence suggests that Labrador puppies and other young dogs age faster than their older counterparts.
“What’s surprising is exactly how old a 1-year-old dog is — it’s like a 30-year-old human,” Trey Ideker, a co-author of that study, said in a press release.
Ultimately, in order to calculate your dog’s human-age equivalent, you’ll need a calculator. The researchers’ formula is: A dog’s human age = 16 ln * your dog’s age + 31. (The ln refers to the natural log of a number.)
The most precise method involves the empirical equation that the researchers discovered, which is 16 x ln(dog’s age) +31 = human age, (that is the natural logarithm of the dog’s real age, multiplied by 16, with 31 added to the total.)
You can compute this using any calculator which has the ln function. Simply type your dog’s age. Press ln. Press x and type in 16. Press + and type in 31. Hit the equals sign and there you have it.
Compassion for animals is intimately associated with goodness of character, and it may be confidently asserted that he who is cruel to animals cannot be a good man.
It may not be the ultimate test of a person’s character, but you can easily observe much about a person by their interaction with animals.
I often see how people’s pets behave and you can gather a lot about a the owner. Pets look to us for care and compassion and give back way more than we give them a lot of the time. Most of what we call a bad animal is really a bad owner.
I got good response on my dog, Boxer Rebellion as well as my interview series, so I thought I’d interview her by describing her day.
Here’s how it goes…..
Wake up, Oh boy, it’s Christmas day, every day! my favorite!
Go for a walk, Oh boy! my favorite!
Eat Dog Food, Oh boy! my favorite!
Play with my toys, Oh Boy! my favorite!
Bark at the kids leaving for school, Oh boy! my favorite!
Nap, Oh boy! my favorite!
Lunch with Dad, maybe some people food, Oh boy! my favorite!
Go for a walk, Oh boy! my favorite!
Bark at the mailman, Oh boy! my favorite!
Kids come home from school, Oh boy! my favorite!
Nap, Oh boy! my favorite!
If I’m good, I get a treat, Oh boy! my favorite!
Dog food, Oh boy! my favorite!
Bark and play with my toys, Oh boy! my favorite!
Go for a walk, Oh boy! my favorite!
Time for bed, sleep on Dad, Oh boy! my favorite!
Here is a similar version I found on the web, but includes cats.
If it itches, you can reach it. And no matter where it itches, no one will be offended if you scratch it in public.
No one notices if you have hair growing in weird places as you get older.
Personal hygiene is a blast: No one expects you to take a bath every day, and you don’t even have to comb your own hair.
Having a wet nose is considered a sign of good health.
No one thinks less of you for passing gas. Some people might actually think you’re cute.
Who needs a big home entertainment system? A bone or an old shoe can entertain you for hours.
You can spend hours just smelling stuff.
No one ever expects you to pay for lunch or dinner. You never have to worry about table manners, and if you gain weight, it’s someone else’s fault.
It doesn’t take much to make you happy. You’re always excited to see the same old people. All they have to do is leave the room for five minutes and come back.
It is now a year later and my dog is 12 today. The average lifespan of Boxer according to my vet is “around” 8-10 years, so I’m living on borrowed time.
Since I’ve worked at home the whole time we’ve had her, she has been my day pal. Now that my son has gone off to college, she is definitely my dog and I’m very attached to her.
Recently, I watched Marley and Me and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. Fortunately, she is still full of energy and looks like she’ll be around for a while.
I’ve posted about her over the years, some of them being the most read entries I’ve written.
After the story of Shoep and Johnhere is the link I am especially sensitive to her longevity and day to day life. She has had cancer surgery and still has the energy to love my family, although she is especially attached to me. It is mutual.
Delusions of Adequacy 