Archive for the ‘Dogs’ Category

Reel scored for pennywhistle and putty knife

March 17, 2017

It’s not as boondocky as it looks: The Trek 520 shoot took place just west of Albuquerque.

There was a time when I might have begun St. Patrick’s Day with a dollop of Irish in the coffee and ended it with a few pints of the black, playing Clannad, The Chieftains and The Pogues in between.

Not this year.

We’d been contemplating the renovation of Herself’s office, and as it happens the dude who does that sort of thing for us was available this very week, the same week during which Herself was scheduled to take a business trip to Florida.

Bejaysis.

So instead of getting my Irish on I arose early to feed and water the menagerie, swallow a bit of (unenhanced) java, and record the voiceover on my Trek 520 video (see screenshot, above) before the hooley resumed. The cats took up their positions under the bed and Mister Boo — well, nothing fazes The Boo save a late meal, so he was fine.

And I broke out the old iPod Nano, the better to hear The Chieftains by. May yis all be in heaven a half hour before the divvil hears you’re dead.

 

Breaking news

March 12, 2017

It was an under-the-covers operation.

He is a Boo of action, to be sure.

ALBUQUERQUE, N.M. (MDM) — Hidden-camera footage released Sunday afternoon appears to show Field Marshal Turkish von Turkenstein (commander, 1st Feline Home Defense Regiment) meeting in secret with Mia, a known Russian Blue.

Asked whether he would sack his household-security adviser, President Boo replied, “Zzzzzzzzzzz … slurp, smack … Russian? As in Russian dressing? Yummmmmm. … zzzzzzzzzzzzz.”

Fire one! Fire two!

December 17, 2016
The light does amazing things around here in the afternoons, particularly if some weather is rolling in.

The light does amazing things around here in the afternoons, particularly if some weather is rolling in.

The Fire Tree was on guard late yesterday afternoon as I walked The Boo, Herself being unavailable for dog duty (heh).

Behold the recovery interval.

Behold the recovery interval.

I should have been paying more attention to The Boo than to the late-day light and what it did to the neighborhood foliage. He was all fired up his own bad self and got away from me on a descent; the old fella is seized by periodic bouts of enthusiasm, and once he finds his stride he goes pretty good, especially on a downhill.

I didn’t catch the little bastard until just before Comanche, slapping one shoe on the leash and bringing him up short of St. Peter’s Gate. He’d never have made the corner at that speed and your average Duke City motorist makes the electorate look focused.

With camera in pocket and leash firmly in hand we ran all the way back to El Rancho Pendejo, where I had a fine chicken noodle soup in the early stages of production for a Saturday release.

And a good thing it is that we got some exercise yesterday, too, because right now it’s snowing. In other words, it’s a great day for a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a nap.

Stop the machine

November 15, 2016
Around and around and around we go, and where we stop, nobody knows.

Around and around and around we go, and where we stop, nobody knows.

Sometimes you have to start the machine to stop it.

The ticking in my head seemed a little ominous today, so after I finished a “Shop Talk” cartoon for Bicycle Retailer, consulted with a few colleagues, and walked The Boo, I stepped away from the Mac for a short, “fast” cyclocross ride, in which “fast” was in comparison to, oh, I don’t know — continental drift?

Anyway, it was a beautiful afternoon, nearly everyone I encountered seemed to be in a good mood for no good reason, and as a skull-flusher I recommend it to you without hesitation. The world will still be there when you get back.

As my man Garrison Keillor says, “politics is not everything. Life goes on.”

Unless you’re Mose Allison, that is. Goddamn. He’s left me with my mind on vacation and my mouth working overtime.

 

Boo!

October 31, 2016
A headless Boo-man? Nope, he's just barking for dinner.

A headless Boo-man? Nope, he’s just barking for dinner.

And a happy Halloween to you, too.

 

Now we’re cookin’

October 30, 2016
"Is that an apple? May I have some?"

“Is that an apple? May I have some? That Man never lets me have anything good. And he beats me while you’re gone.”

Mister Boo is overjoyed that we’re back to business as usual around El Rancho Pendejo. That Lady Who Gives Him Things is making a fruit salad, and pieces of apple are rolling downhill.

Sweet dreams

October 29, 2016
Mister Boo is overjoyed at the news of Herself's imminent return.

Mister Boo is overjoyed at the news of Herself’s imminent return.

Our long national nightmare is at an end.

I’m not talking about The Hilldebeast’s emails, which continue to be the gift that keeps on giving, even when they’re apparently not even hers. No, I’m talking about the imminent return to El Rancho Pendejo of Herself, who has been road-tripping for two weeks through Tennessee, Colorado and Utah.

Looking north from near the top of the Hillsdale Loop. To the south sits Interstate 40, which is a good deal less scenic.

Looking north from near the top of the Hillsdale Loop. To the south sits Interstate 40, which is a good deal less scenic.

The Boo will be ecstatic, or as close to that state as is Boo-manly possible (an excitable boy he is not).

Herself is the only human he really cares about. I am deemed suitable for short periods as a food delivery/excretion collection specialist (second class), but when she is around The Boo wouldn’t piss on me if I were on fire.

Oddly, though, his favorite spot for daytime naps — even if she’s home — is my office, just behind my chair. Go figure.

Meanwhile, yesterday in my capacity as commander of the 29er Jones Mechanized Infantry, I seized the Hillsdale Loop in the name of the people. Being a heavily armed elderly white guy I went unmolested by law enforcement. But I eventually gave it back anyway. Hey, somebody has to let The Boo out.

And finally, Khal checks in from scenic metropolitan Bombtown, where he is recovering from some medical experiments and limited to hollering at Siri via iPhone:

I am in an immobilization sling for another month so typing is “hunt and peck” with my left hand. Hence I don’t do too much of it.

It’s getting to the point where I might be able to take off the sling in a couple weeks to carefully work the right arm so might regain my voice, so to speak, and that will be a relief.

Probably no biking till January except on the stationary torture setup.

—K

P.S.: All the best to you and the gang.

 

Workin’ like a dog

September 5, 2016

Power to the pee-pole!

May 1, 2016

RFD-BugI was casting around this morning for some appropriate socialist content to post on International Workers Day, but May Day 2016 seems light on revolutionary news.

So instead, here’s the latest edition of Radio Free Dogpatch, in which the proletariat (portrayed by Mister Boo) is oppressed by his bladder.

And remember, kids: When you’re smashing the State, don’t forget to keep a smile on your lips, a song in your heart, and a mop within reach.

Useful links

• Manzano Animal Clinic, which did the surgery.

• The New Orleans Jazz Festival, which did not.

• Elvis Costello. This Elvis has mos def not left the building.

• Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons. Good God, are they still at it?

• Recipes: None worth mentioning this week. Whenever Herself hits the road, I generally give myself a break from semi-elaborate cookery.

 

Boo hoo

April 27, 2016

Oh, lawd, the old tee-hees are proving elusive these days around El Rancho Pendejo.

Mister Boo’s post-surgical recuperation from bladder surgery last Wednesday has been both messier and noisier than I anticipated, and it has not helped that Herself has pissed off to New Orleans for a week on a work junket that just happens to occur in the middle of Jazz Fest.

The Big Easy, this place she is not, cher. Les bon temps, they do not rouler.

There is, however, light at the end of the tunnel. This morning The Boo took the last of his antibiotics and pain meds, and tomorrow the Cone of Shame comes off. The peeing and pooping is occurring mostly outdoors, which is nice. But I laid in another 50-pack of Boots & Barkley extra-large training pads anyway, just in case the flood returns to Katrinaesque proportions.

Well, I wish I was in New Orleans … I can see it in my dreams. …