Lulu

The Occasional Cavorting and Musings of a Female Staffordshire Bull Terrier

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Lulu For World Leader

Sometimes we find we are in the hands of something much bigger than ourselves, regardless of support. When this day comes, we are obliged to answer the call no matter the risks and sacrifices we must make.

Saturday, October 21, 2006

Hmm…




Okay, kiddies… I’ve got a thinker for you!
First some background.
On October 12, 1967, zoologist Desmond Morris published a book that rocked the human world. The book was aptly called The Naked Ape because it described our human friends as members of the ape family. Dr. Morris highlighted some startling facts that were not entirely embraced by humans, for obvious reasons, but those on the lower end of the food chain found the brouhaha altogether quite amusing.
I quote: “Out of the 193 species of monkeys and apes on the planet only man is not entirely covered in hair.

Interestingly, this statement has provoked some thinking on my part about human head hair AND its vestigial anatomical origins.

Please turn your attention to the attached photo of my human. Observe how the hair growth on her head resembles the horse’s tail in the first photo.

Hmm...

In direct comparison, both the human head hair and the horse’s tail hang in elongated strands and both sets of growth can flip and move at will. In contrast, however, the horse’s tail is attached to a short tailbone which moves the tail hair, while the human hair is attached to the head, which does not move independently of the neck. Hypothetically speaking, the human neck shows similarities to the horse’s tailbone in this respect.

Upon closer inspection, we see that the tailbone of the horse is directly attached to its buttocks area. That said, could we then make a comparison to the buttocks of the horse and the neck of our human friends? A chilling thought, but logical in scientific conjecture. Perhaps Dr. Morris might conclude this matter in a sequel, as he is still alive at 78 years of age. Certainly, it gives food for thought.

Speaking of food, it’s about that time. Until next week, my friends.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Football Anyone?


Ah... autumn. Crisp clean air and seasonal scrimmages.

Football anyone?











Anyone?













Football...
you know....
I'll pass you and you try to block.

I mean... don't get so excited.











Aha! Now here's a fitting opponent!
Um... don't look so serious, big boy.
It's only a game! Sheesh.








Hey, wait a doggone minute!
I said I'M passing!

GIVE

ME

MY

BALL!







Fine! I'm tougher and stronger, and if you insist... I'll rake these leaves with those front claws of yours, you needlenosed furbag!











Hey! Hey! I was only kidding!
Give me my ball, doggone it!











Miss Kitty!!

You KNOW I always speak so highly of you!

Come on... help a girl out!










You dolt!
So you won... big DEAL!

Feel like a champ, do you?

LOOK what you did to MY ball!!








*SIGH*

Well... I never liked football anyway.

Say, anyone see my frisbee?

Saturday, October 07, 2006

It’s Downright Embarrassing!


This week’s posting is devoted to the poor wretch of a dog who suffers humiliation at the end of a leash. Those of you who are unfortunate enough to be walked after dawn by a pajama-clad human know EXACTLY what I mean.

Sometimes it’s pajamas; sometimes it’s sweats that should have found their way to the car waxing cloth bin many moons ago. No matter the breeding, dogs can, and often do, find themselves accompanied by humans in attire unfit for criteria on Blackwell’s worst dressed list. Certainly, you cannot dispute the mortification of a dog being walked on the roadside with a woman sporting a head full of jumbo pink plastic curlers.

And while we're on the subject, not only are dogs disgraced by human apparel, but also by human behavior.

Pity the poor dog walked by the no-pooper-scooper human who suffers the disgusted looks of drivers-by for obvious reasons. Worse yet is the human escort who strategically puffs a pocket with one hand to simulate the appearance of the hidden plastic baggie. For a dog, it’s downright embarrassing to be on a leash with a socially slipshod human on the other end.

Then there are dogs who have no choice but to leave their business on the neighbor’s lawn since that is where their humans - leash in hand - deliberately pause and wait. If given that choice, dogs would much rather mark their own territory. Dogs know full well that marking the neighbor’s lawn clearly sends a mixed message to all parties involved. Often this situation results in a phone call or a visit from the offended neighbor who wrongfully comments on the DOG’S bad habits or obvious lack of manners.

And what about
the business of the atypical human who meanders along puffing on a cigarette or sucking a brown stogie? It just LOOKS bad, you know? I mean, for Dog’s sake... you’re finally out for a walk! At least, give SOME semblance of routine exercise.

On an even more profound level, dogs can find themselves in exceedingly embarrassing situations, quite unexpectedly, when out with humans. Take the following scenario, for example. A dog blissfully trots along on the sidewalk attached to a leash, held by its owner. Suddenly, the dog is approached by a strange human walking from the opposite direction. As the human nears, the dog is inclined to do what comes naturally: it immediately sniffs at crotch level to explore the personality of the strange human.

Sad to say, this basic form of doggie communiqué has been known to be blown way out of proportion by humans in general. They are inclined to overreact when dogs exchange a greeting in this way. How embarrassing for a dog to have its owner violently jerk the leash to pull its head away, followed by the usual stream of explicatives or a loud and lengthy reprimand. In either case, the dog is made to feel entirely guilty and thoroughly disgraced for simply saying hello to a new human along the way.


So, then. What have we learned?

We have learned that humans not only embarrass themselves. They always take hostages. But… whether they act out of fear, desperation, recklessness, or just plain ignorance, we love them anyway. It’s our job.