Ok, it’s a bit of exaggeration. The Flying Wallendas have been defying gravity for a century. Recently, Nik Wallenda became the first aerialist to walk across the Niagara Falls.
This pooch doesn’t walk across the Niagara Falls, but what he does is pretty impressive. According to his Facebook page, Ozbert Humpledink is a 3 yr old collie/kelpie cross. He was born in Wales. With the help of his human, he has learned some amazing tricks.
As you can see, Ozzy really loves to perform for his dad.
Now it’s time for the gratuitous cat pics.
We hope you have enjoyed this acrobatic interlude.
Hi folks. Actually the fog has returned, but it was an ugly and hot couple of days. This is normal at this time of year as we begin the change from the summer fog to the winter rain. While it was fine outside, it was a wee bit warm in the apartment for the furry ones. Still, we managed to get a pic or two.
Miss Jenny managed to find a cool spot to hide in. She only emerged in the evenings.
Tito tended to stay in the room with me, so I had another way to keep him cool.
The fog has returned for the time being and we’re supposed to have a good rainstorm coming. Yahoo!
Miss Nightshade Jenny pulled an interesting trick last night. She got bored. As you know, cats can be downright dangerous when bored and Miss Jenny was no exception. At some point, she decided to make me a part of it by bringing me a gift and BLAAARRRRPING it out onto the bed.
It all started when I was sitting in bed reading my book. I glanced over and saw Miss Jenny coming through the hall on her way to the bed. Along the way she dropped something that went THUD!. It was too dark to see what it was, but it sounded like a heavy rubber ball. She wrestled with it for a few minutes and finally managed to pick it up again. Then she jumped up and BLAAARRRRPed it onto the bed. WTF? A gift? For me? Really? WTF?
Miss Jenny is an extraordinary thief. She steals pens and corks and other assorted items. This is the first time I’ve seen her wrangling taters. That wasn’t the only tater she wrangled. I found this when I went to the kitchen.
Evidently, Miss Jenny was having a ball playing with taters.
There were several other floor taters and I was still finding them this morning. I have since Jenny-proofed the tater bag. Miss Nightshade Jenny the tater pirate. What a riot. I’m still suffering from a terminal case of the giggles. I didn’t forget my manners and I remembered to thank Miss Jenny for the lovely gift.
San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park is where we go when we want to relax a bit.
I had just taken the fog photo when I saw it. It was a belligerent seagull. It was yelling at its reflection in the car. It was a riot. Even the people who owned the car got a laugh.
After that, we started to drive around to the other side of the lake when I saw it. It was another belligerent creature.
He was a feisty critter and he was just strolling down the sidewalk. We patiently herded him back to the lake as the gulls began to gather ominously. He made it back in one piece.
That’s where the cuteness ends: Jenny starts by kissing on Tito, they exchange a few licks, and settle down for a minute, maybe a few seconds.
Then the wrestling begins. The headlocks and body slamming, what every Trekker recognizes as the Klingon mating ritual, somewhat different from the Vulcan mating ritual which also involves ass kicking, but of a Starship Captain.
As I type this, for instance, Jenny is still greeting me home, dancing figure eights under the chair, pawing at my leg and grabbing my arm to rub against. With purring and claws. I’m already bleeding in three spots. I got bit. Not too hard but firmly.
Must be the Tortie (Tortoiseshell) in her, the little brute. As a wrestler, she has a very solid stance: wide with hind legs bent. We saw her more than once using this position to wrap Tito in an embrace before slamming him down. Then again, he gives as good as he gets, and even has her retreating often, though never for long. Never for long.
I’m bleeding from a fourth scratch now.
Jenny will also walk on my pillow stopping just long enough to nom on my skull. If I pet her, which I always do, she farts. If my wife leans over to nose bonk her, Jenny’ll cough in her face, like Carol Beer on “Little Britain”:
Her newest trick: not a cough, but a vurp (a burp which sounds vomitous). All I can say is thank Ceiling Cat she doesn’t eat mice. Things are gross enough. Annnnd, I’ve got an eighth scratch… Well, a puncture, more like… Still, I feel like one of Jack the Ripper’s playthings.
Nothing like a good meal followed by a… a good proper “recycling” session, if you know what I mean… In between both, though, flossing takes longer, what with receding gum lines etc…
Your mouth becomes a Walmart with monstrosities lingering in the aisles.
I had a particularly irritating bacon bit wedged between two teeth earlier today. One of those clingy, rubbery bits of bacon fat which seemed oddly attached to a molar, and considering how long they’d known each other I thought the relationship had a whiff of co-dependence…
Ultimately though, all good things must end, and food stuffs must separate from enamel.
Where do I begin To tell the story of how great a love can be With her first chew She gave new filling to this cavity of mine She fills my teeth with very special things With angels’ songs , with wild imaginings She fills my mouth with so much flavor
Here’s nice bit of stress reliever for Monday. YouTube always has something fun. This one has been around for a while, but it always makes me laugh. The BBC is always a winner in this category.