How to Steal the Best Chewy

Most are not as adept at acquiring the very best of the chew toys as I am. I feel safe letting my compassion show through at this point, because I know even with help few ever match the skills I have in this field. For those who strive for greatness, here are some of my tips.

1) The best chews are usually located in crates. Whenever one has the opportunity, one should inspect opened, unoccupied crates to see what the goods are. When it has been determined which crate contains the best of the lot make a point of it.

2) Anything, no matter what, is better when you shouldn't have it in the first place. With this in mind, wait for the perfect opportunity to get a chew out of a crate. An example of an ideal scenario would be when someone is in the general area but not looking directly at what one is about to do. This way one will be caught out of the corner of the opponent's eye at the triumphant moment--the moment when one zips from the kennel with such boastfulness as to convince anyone something of dubious nature must have just occurred.

3) If one refrains from showing off the captured prize to every soul in the area it either means not enough effort went into the maneuver or the obtained item was not worth it. This is a fail. See that it doesn't happen.

Note: It is of absolutely no significant value in there be multiple kennels to steal from. If one's own kennel is all that is available that is no excuse for slacking on completing the above tasks to the best of one's abilities. The only losers are those who do not try or do not try hard enough. I am always a winner--let that be an inspiration to you.

Fern

Something's Hatching at the Ranch

The light of my life, my sun, moon, and stars, and the thing that is even more interesting than cats (or at least sometimes more interesting than some cats) has arrived into the world. They came from the big white box (note: this is referred to by some as an incubator). Its been churning away at various noises for some time now, but nothing of interest as a general rule. A mechanical whir here and a few quick clicks there are nothing to perk one's ears at. But sometimes there are just the noises one would hope a big white box to make. If one could sit for a few hours in one's crate and think--and mind you that's prime thinking time--one could not come up with a sound more ideal to the situation. "Peep," it says, and also "cheep cheep cheep!" Only the day gets even better after this. At times like these one can open the door to find little fluffy snippets (note: also classified as Narragansett turkey chicks). Go ahead, open the door!

See, aren't they wonderful? I'm going to herd them when they get bigger. Right now we're getting used to one another and dreaming up all the wonderful stories that are to come.

Apiculture

There are some things they don't teach you in school. One such lesson was crawling about in the grass buzzing it's wings. By instinct alone one would just assume that God made all things that are yellow and black, fat and crunchy to be snapped up as snacks as happy as you like. Kirsten told me it was my prerogative if I really wanted to be messiny with a bee, but she didn't recommend it. Sometimes instinct does fail a body; the bee did not go down as I intended. After rolling my face in the grass for awhile I've come to some definate conclusions. Bees must serve some other purpose on earth besides live snack. Also, life is hard.

Wee, Sleekit, Cowrin, Tim'rous Beastie

Mice, my friends! Mice are where it's at. By it I would specify all one would want on a lovely evening in the yard. Let me explain. There's the little rodent in the grass, all alive and interesting, and then--all sudden-like!--it pops over a few inches in any direction. You never know what direction until it happens. At the sight of this I can only say, "Mouse, will you be my friend? Please?" I do this in the doggiest way possible; the head is cocked, the front paws are outstretched, the playing face is set, and the tail awag. Kirsten doesn't think my new friend understands my intentions, but Mouse keeps popping about in that marvelous way of hers, so I'm not sure I care whether she recieves my message of good will or not. I offer this as another token of friendship: "Won't you please be my friend, Mouse? Oh, won't you?"

I don't claim to be an expert on the verbal or gesticular fine points of mousese, but it doesn't lie within my imagination for her to be saying anything other then, "Why certainly, dear Fern, how about a romp!" What wonderful creatures these are.

Fern

Note: No wee beasties were harmed in the making of this post. If it were not so I would not have told you. Thank you, also, to Mr. Jensen for the use of his photograph.

Liturgy for Bath Day

The Dog
The truth I do not stretch or shove
When I state that the dog is full of love.
I've also found, by actual test,
A wet dog is the lovingest.
-Ogden Nash

In Honor of the Patron Saint of the Emerald Isle

Kirsten learned today that in a pinch one can eat Irish food with chopsticks. Such a pinch may be (but is not limited to) when one is eating bangers and mash in the teachers' lounge, has forgetten to pack a fork, does not want to enter the student infested school cafeteria to get a spork, and spys an unused pack of chopsticks in a little frequented corner. If the proof is in the pudding this approch works just fine. I still say God gave you a mouth and why complicate matters, but people will be people, and our common ground is more important that our differences. We both like Irish food.

Fern

I told you we'd make it look better. You're jealous, aren't you? See how soft it is? I'm going to bring it with on my spring break trip to the mountains in Tennessee so I can show it off to my friends there. Just call me lucky.

Fern