Tag Archives: pets

Daily Diversion #77: The Cutest Reindog in All the World

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I will forgive you for thinking that, when not writing, I like to put things on dogs’ heads and photograph them looking put-upon and silly. If you are one of the few readers of this blog who think otherwise, go here.

This time, it is slightly different. This dog, you see, is not my dog. His name is Zero, and he belongs to my best friend. I did not plop the offending reindeer antlers headband on his sweet, sweet head. I am, however, an opportunist: I snapped this pic with my phone camera approximately three seconds later. Fear not. He still loves his favourite Auntie. I think.

Zero the lead reindog.

Zero the lead reindog.

“The greatest pleasure of a dog is that you may make a fool of yourself with him, and not only will he not scold you, but he will make a fool of himself, too.”-Samuel Butler

Daily Diversion #70: A Life of Lumpy Leisure

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When I’m not writing or reading, I’m taking snaps of the boys. Crosley and Duncan are truly my wet-nosed, slobbering, warm-eared Daily Diversions. Cros shows up on the blog more frequently because he spends most of his day sleeping on various lumpy things, his head on a pillow. It hasn’t been tested but I’m confident that Duncan has enough energy to power, at the very least, a four slice toaster. He doesn’t sit still for more than a few seconds. Today’s diversion features you-know-who, doing you-know-what. Imagine that.

"Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog it's too dark to read."-Groucho Marx

“Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend. Inside of a dog it’s too dark to read.”-Groucho Marx

Daily Diversion #50: A Writer’s Best Friend…

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is not a pen, paper, book, idea, plot, character or thought. Those things, when joined, are blood, meat, mead. They warm the soul, but not cold toes on a crisp autumn morning. Creativity fills holes and unmasks wounds. It starts an emotional and intellectual chain-reaction that flies around the world, unbound. Limitless. Yet, feeling a wet nose at the back of the knee is a thousand and fifteen times better than reading about a wet nose at the back of the knee. This is a fact.

Duncan playing dead.

Duncan playing dead.

Daily Diversion #49: One Sleeping Dog, Two Ways

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With our cable and internet connection mysteriously down until just a few hours ago, my weekend consisted of the following: writing (not blogging), cleaning, watching movies on my laptop, blasting punk rock through open windows, listening to sirens scream through the neighbourhood, daydreaming, thinking about doing laundry and then deciding against it, reading, swaying in the breeze clad in my underwear and a hoodie (I get cold), and photographing my dogs while they murmured in their sleep.

 
PS-I will be playing catch-up for the next few days. Thank you for your patience.

Crosley 1

Six days worth of entertainment in one 90-pound package of fur.

Crosley 2

Napping is what he does best. That, and looking cute.

Cat Sweater

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I am a housecat.

My duty in life is to shed hair, bathe myself with my tongue, and irritate the allergies of the innocent.

Today, my owner forced me into a sweater.  A “cat” sweater.

I have no idea why.  I’m covered with fur. I assume it is because an exclusively-indoor, fur-bearing creature being stuffed into cold-weather clothing is meant to reflect the tenants of that sinister and enigmatic concept humans refer to as “cute”.

(Shudder.)

I dare not explore my owner’s thinking any further for fear it may lead to intractable madness.

I have determined to lay here in protest, on the floor of our central-heating-equipped dwelling, until this woolen body prison is removed and burned. Either that, or until the breaking of spring.  Until then, I try not to consider the disquieting ramifications of my owner’s interest in something called a “feline fashion show”.

Meow.