Something Fun, the boss says

Posted on by hollyfrostgoldportpress

By Holly the Assistant

Sarah says to post something fun, while she’s off doing necessary and unfun appointments. I’m not sure about fun, but shocking?

This is the most recent four-footed addition to the family, Hyrokken. She’s an in-family rescue who joined us the end of January, my uncle’s dog (his health is declining), a five-year-old ninety-five pound red and white Malamute, who is exactly as shocking as she looks when she hops up to look in the window in the dusk.

She was raised by cats, and is bullyable by cats. Watching her cringe away from five pounds of hissing black Gertrude will always be funny.

So chaos increases here, as do dog food bills. How are your fuzzy four-footed family members this fine spring day?

35 thoughts on “Something Fun, the boss says”

  2. Maximum Maxwell the monster poodle roared at the cops today. ~:D

    They were soliciting donations at the local Tim Horton’s, Max took exception to them being close to the truck. Made it tough to understand what I was donating five bucks to, having a monster turning inside out in the back seat…

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  3. The dry spring has helped with the external parasite situation that we always face, but we’re thankful for the rain last week and a bit last night as well.

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  4. Being bullied by cats reminds me of an Akita I once knew. Duke was scared of little dogs when he was walked in town until he was two or so. Then he realized he was ninety-five pound grown dog.

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    1. In Longview paper deliverer had a large Golden Retriever that made the rounds with him off leash. Dog used harass and chase the cats encountered. Then dog met Yellar. Big yellow long haired 25# tabby, male (not fat, he had to have maine coon or bobcat in him). Dog came up to the front door planter Yellar like to sun bake in the mornings. Last we saw of cat and dog, until Yellar came home, was dog running with cat on digging in on dog’s back. Thereafter, dog waited across the street while our paper was delivered.

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      2. There used to be a smoked Persian (red under-coat, dark gray/black main coat, yellow eyes) in the neighborhood that got nicknamed Gato del Diablo. Why? Because the cat was marching across someone’s back yard, and their new chocolate Lab puppy (six months or so old) saw the cat and decided to attack him. Cat didn’t run.

        This was a CLUE. Puppy kept coming.

        Puppy almost lost an eye except for human intervention and a good vet. Puppy never bothered cats again, and the cat became Gato del Diablo. He eventually accepted sufficient domestication to live a comfortable retirement, but on his terms, according to the couple who took him in (and out, and in, and out, and …)

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  5. Did folks see the Substack post of “Emotions people feel, but can’t explain”?

    I like “Nodus Tollens: The realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore.”

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          1. Oh, more Nodus Tollens

            But there are times when you look up and realize that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore. You thought you were following the arc of the story, but you keep finding yourself immersed in passages you don’t understand. Either everything seems important or nothing does. It’s just a tangled mess of moments that keeps changing depending on what you choose to highlight.

            You look around and wonder, What kind of story is this? Just another coming-of-age tale, the same one your parents told, with the names switched around? Is your everyday life part of the origin story of something truly epic? Are you unwittingly getting by on other people’s charity, mistaking your own luck for your own success? Are you a character in a romance, a tragedy, a travelogue, or just another cautionary tale?

            As you thumb through the years, you may never know where this all is going. The only thing you know is that there’s more to the story. That soon enough you’ll flip back to this day looking for clues of what was to come, rereading all the chapters you tried to skim through to get to the good parts —only to learn that all along, you were supposed to choose your own adventure.

            Latin nodus tollens, literally “the knot that denies by denying.” In propositional logic, modus tollens (with an m) is a kind of argument that goes like this: “If P, then Q. But Q is not. Therefore, P must not be.” Also known as going back and questioning your first assumptions when things don’t work out the way you expected. Pronounced “noh-dus tah-luhns.”

            Every day, since my wife passed.

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  6. Jase T. Cat has been napping. Today is cool (50s) and mostly overcast (yeah!) so he’s been napping. He was very, very active this morning. As in “What was that loud thump? Oh dear” active.

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      1. Yesterday morning’s thump was our giant chocolate lab going into a seizure.

        Has not repeated, and he’s seemed okay since.

        But in this case, I’d have preferred broken glass.

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  7. Our 7 year old Rhodie has always had issues. He is allergic to something and gets skin infections. Antibiotics treat symptoms but less and less. He is neurotic and while he means no harm we cannot let him around our grandsons (too small and young). My he settles with me…mostly but I cannot keep him. My son who is keeping him is not a dog person though he is trying. His wife is NOT a dog person especially when the dog outweighs her.

    We try but I really want to take him because then he could relax and.enjoynthese last few years

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  8. Sympathize, as we “inherited” a 85 pound Smooth Coat Collie who loves to run away. No cats, which is why we got our 60 pound Pit and Boxer mix. The old man is a Husky mix, 80 pounds of fur, willing to share his blonde fuzz with the world. Enjoy!

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  9. Sympathize, as we “inherited” a 85 pound Smooth Coat Collie who loves to run away. No cats, which is why we got our 60 pound Pit and Boxer mix. The old man is a Husky mix, 80 pounds of fur, willing to share his blonde fuzz with the world. Enjoy!

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  11. H is still a chonk and I need to get back to grooming her, L is being her usual independent self, R is still being a needy butt, C is being less of a needy butt but still a big one overall and dealing with his big brother being too much of one, and of course Sister A is pestering her uncles and aunt as well as getting up to minor Misoite mischief (defined as opening cabinets to play then ADDing off elsewhere)!

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  13. Tayo the White Russian spent the afternoon claiming my brother’s new bed, Mischief the Russian pointed spent the afternoon on my lap, where I was napping due to medications from yesterday’s tooth extractions. Natasha the 13 year old Russian Blue, Queen of all she surveys, spent the afternoon sleeping in her chosen box.

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  15. Purty dawg.

    Met my stepdad-to-be’s Malamute early on a Sunday morning. Closed the restaurant where I was working, biked it home arriving about 12:30 AM. What’s the first thing a healthy teenage boy will do upon arriving home at that time after some healthy exercise? Raid the fridge. In this case, in the dark. As I was perusing my options, I heard a Tick, Tick, Tick noise on the linoleum behind me. When I glanced back to see what may have been causing such an unusual occurrence, I perceived a pair of huge yellow eyes gazing at me from the darkness at what appeared to be about four feet above floor level. After the creature let out a Whuff, I backed slowly to the light switch while saying variations of, “Good doggie! Nice doggie!”. Once the kitchen lights came on, I met Kumik, who was just trying to make a new friend, and did. Miss that non-mutt, even now.

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  16. Kat-the-dog (almost 5 years, 40 pound Border Collie) spent yesterday regretting that she added to the list of Things I Shouldn’t Eat. Breakfast made it down OK, but white messes as her body tried to repel boarders. One pepcid-in-a-pillpocket later, and after turning her nose up at rice water, she slept most of the evening.

    She felt much better in the morning, and got a dose of probiotic along with half her morning kibble, and the emergency-GI-dogfood mixed together. No problems today, and she’ll get the rest of the GI food with her kibble until the can is done. Royal Canin for the win.

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  17. I didn’t tell anyone at the time except Sarah and Kathy L, but about a year ago, our 11 year old mostly pug mix, Sugar, had a mass found on her liver. When they tried to remove it, the anesthesia revealed a heart issue that meant we couldn’t remove it because she started turning blue when turned on her back under the anesthetic.

    In mid March, an exam revealed that the mass was getting larger, and they decided to try a different surgical approach. It worked, the mass was cleanly removed, and pathology says we got all of it.

    If you ever need advanced animal care in DFW, Em and I recommend VCA Dallas Animal Specialty Hospital very highly. We also recommend ASPCA Pet Insurance. They covered 90% of Sugar’s costs (roughly 10 grand), and nursed her predecessor Nemo through over two years of canine lymphoma treatments at VCA.

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  18. In addition to our ten cats, we have also been feeding the neighbor’s not-our-cats. They live mostly in our neighbor’s garage with some of her chickens, and come over to visit and sit next to the carport every morning waiting for me to feed them before I leave for work. They are very skittish, and never let a human more than five feet close to them.

    We call them the spice girls because they look brown and white, but also have grey tabby faces and legs. One of them is very pregnant, likely by her own sire or brother.

    And then today when we left for the grocery store, we found an orange and white fluffy kitty hiding under the Bugbear’s motorcycle (that hasn’t been driven in more than six years), so I put some food out for her near our laundry room door as well, which is around the corner from the porch/carport the other kitties congregate at.

    I usually put the food out next to the truck, but it’s been raining off and on the past couple days, so I put it under the carport’s roof closer to the house. Might make them less likely to come in and eat it, but it keeps the food dry.

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