Dog

A 20-post collection

Clever Dog, Not Smart Dog.

The hound, by daylight known as Max, loves rounding up our neighbour’s cows. I’m pretty certain that the neighbours feel less than charitable about that.

Another neighbour dislikes Max barking at the cows, the birds, etc. while he’s on his leash and has complained. Twice. I’m sure he has a few names for the dog that aren’t printable.

So in order to keep both neighbours happy, we have been attempting to fix the fence to so the dog can’t get through. Our first test resulted in us having to go fetch him away from the cows.

I insisted on having him on a leash for subsequent tests. Dog found all the places he could slip through. Easily inside of ten minutes.

When it comes to finding possible holes in fences, that dog is a frikkin genius.

When it comes to obeying orders… not so much.

It is not smart for a dog to be seen annoying cattle. That sort of dog can get shot.

On the bright side, we should have the fence permanently fixed, soon. And, I hope, fixed enough that he won’t be a pest to anyone.

I hope.

I pray.

He’s a loveable dog, but damn, he’s clever in all the wrong ways.

Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics

Someone, somewhere, theorised that we spend half our lives waiting for something to happen.

Be that in a queue or in waiting rooms, or sitting around and waiting for someone in power to get the thumb out of their divot and get things done.

I, currently, have wasted half my day waiting for the men of the house to get their hairy arses into gear so we can finally finish fixing that fucking fence. They apparently spent all night programming - at

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A Quarter to 2AM

Monday 28th of November.

That’s when I sat down to write this. Give or take a few minutes.

Someone rang our phone and hung up. Twice. Long about midnight.

As a means of waking me up, it’s very effective.

Once I’m awake, no matter what, I can’t get back to sleep.

It doesn’t matter how tired I am. It doesn’t matter what time it is. It doesn’t matter

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Nostalgia For Never Was

Remember all those sitcoms where people helped people out? The dream worlds like The Waltons or Leave It To Beaver? If a Neighbour was experiencing trouble, the whole neighbourhood pitched in to help.

I’m more convinced than every that it was just a dream. An impossible utopia that everyone pretends was real so they can say, “things were better when…”

In the real world, some busybody Neighbour would have reported the Cleavers to CPS because their kid

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Due to Circumstances Beyond My Control...

I had to spend my “me money” on groceries.

You might not think this is such a big freakin’ deal. You’re entitled to your opinions. Hell, you’re entitled to tl;dr everything I write. Just like I’m entitled to write what I want, when I want.

And, right now, I want to vent some spleen.

I don’t spend a lot on myself for several reasons: 1) I’m hella fussy.

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