Saturday dog blegging


It's a slow news day...well except for the whole Iranian election thing, but I'm not going to pretend that I know anything more about that than the other experts on the internets. So I'm throwing this one out there for the more knowledgeable visitors of this site.

Above is my new best friend Bandit. Well that's his given name, and he's my best friend in that I can still give him back to the rescue if he eats one of my marathon medals. I've spent the past 24 hours getting the house in order to bring him in, and it's been an experience to say the least. Between buying a crate (which I've since found isn't tall enough for him, because there's no such thing as a greyhound crate), learning the difference between lamb and lamb meal, deciding between plastic vs. metal bowls, and going through Target with more baby gates than the Octo-mom owns, I'm about dead beat. Oh, and he's scratching himself like he's got the worst case of fleas ever, though I'm guessing that's probably more due to stress than anything else. We'll see how that goes.

Basically, I don't have any point to this, other than I feel more clueless than Michael Keaton in Mr. Mom when he couldn't figure out the traffic pattern at the school drop-off zone. So feel free to tell me what I'm doing wrong or am supposed to be doing.

Oh, and here he is attacking his stuffed animal friend, Newt.

2 comments:

Rev. Ritchie Blackmore said...

Good luck with the doggie!

grif said...

Keep him on a leash and do what Bob Barker tells you.

And get a white cat and name it Snowball. That way you can do a reenactment of Smokey and the Bandit with animals.