1. Two enormous animals live in my home. Via some moment of sheer absurdity, I willingly agreed to let both a horse and a gazelle occupy my living room, eat my food, and attempt to sleep in my bed. I got up to get some water last night, and in the sixty seconds I was gone, I came back to find a horse sleeping in my spot. She was just lying in wait, rubbing her paws together, gleeful at the chance to usurp my position as 50% bed owner.
The horse, on the left, is a chocolate colored beast, weighing in at the better part of 95 pounds, and whose favorite activities include eating food, sleeping ON you, and swimming through life. This is a dog who will get into the bathtub with you, despite your attempts at pushing her away. This is an animal who can swim in the snow. (Sadly, we don't have any.) She is exceedingly strong and adorably affectionate. We occasionally call her Rosie.
Her compatriot, on the right, has lived with us since October. We rescued her from the shelter when she was ten months old and named her Lucy. She is a lab and springer mix, and she has not stopped moving since the moment we met her. I was recently telling a new acquaintance about my dogs, and when she heard we had a female lab/springer mix, she said, "Let me guess. Really sweet. Really smart. Incredibly hyperactive."
She is so hyperactive that I cannot take a decent picture of her. This is the sum total of the photographs I have in which you can tell a black dog is present, and not just a smear of ink across the frame.
Lucy is just as tall as Rosie, but is half her weight, which makes her faster than a speeding bullet. The breed name springer is an accurate one, as she leaps, gazelle-like, at every opportunity. Given a choice between walking and leaping, she'll choose the latter.
If I had vast quantities of free time, this is the kind of gazelle I would train and enter into agility contests.
But I don't. So she'll have to satisfy herself with the leaping opportunities around my house.
These beasts love to chase each other and wrestle whenever they have a free moment. And let's face it, unless you're a farm dog, nearly every moment in a dog's life is a free one.
I've asked them politely to stop wrestling. They don't listen to me. They careen into the coffee table, spilling your drinks. They crash into the backs of your knees while you're cooking dinner, pitching you forward into the salad. They have such wanton disregard for human courtesy.
But they also let small children ride on their backs. They will eat anything, making them excellent vacuum cleaners. They sleep curled up with a seven year old in the sweetest possible way.
Someday -- and I'm told this is inevitable -- that girl is going to grow up and move out. And when she does, she'll get herself a horse or a gazelle of her own, because of the memories she's made with these.
But what can be done about the wrestling? What?
2. Several weeks ago, I was groggily drinking my coffee and eating my raisin bran. I like to read the paper while I do this. The length of my breakfast is directly proportional to the thickness of the newspaper.
When I lived in Washington, DC, we got both the Washington Post and the New York Times delivered every morning. Sometimes I would have to get up at 2:00 am to eat breakfast.
Now, the Duluth News Tribune provides me with about ten minutes of eating time. I read the front section, which often has stories about local and state government and the problems they both create and solve. I skip nearly all of the international Associated Press stories, because I've read them online the day before, and there's nothing worse than rereading the same bad news.
Then I read the local section, which is mostly about things like black bears, sledding, road construction, Lake Superior, and obituaries. I skip the entire sports section because of a very deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep apathy towards any and all sports. Is deep apathy an oxymoron?
Whatever. I don't care that much.
I enjoy reading the paper, and try to look at it from the perspective of, hey, I'm lucky to live in a place where the top local news story is about someone stealing $150 from their coworker's locker.
So, you can imagine the chuckle I had when I unearthed this gem:
I should like to point out that this did not happen in Duluth, or even Minnesota, for that matter. We have Wisconsin to thank for this one.
You see, it seems as though Beezow Doo-Doo Zopittybop-Bop-Bop violated the terms of his bail conditions.
He had some drugs, paraphernalia, and weapons. Understandably, Wisconsin did not like that. So they put him in jail.
Beezow Doo-Doo Zopittybop-Bop-Bop, whose name used to be Jeff, legally changed his name. As in, went to court and said to a judge, "Hello, my name is Jeff. I would like to pay money to change my name to Beezow Doo-Doo Zopittybop-Bop-Bop."
And the judge said, "Okey dokey."
Poor Beezow's mother. She cannot be pleased that her baby Jeff has done this to himself.
3. I knit this scarf for moi. It's a bulky weight braided circle that loops around my neck twice and keeps me toasty warm.
4. One more week until Valentine's Day! How do you feel about that?