Monday, December 31, 2018

2019




  HAPPY NEW YEAR!




from all the pets and other critters here at Bad Dog Ranch









May the Lord bless you and keep you;
 the Lord make His face shine upon you;
 the Lord turn His face toward you and give you peace.

-Numbers 6:24-26

Thursday, December 27, 2018

Pop Culture Frenzy, Round 75

Welcome once again to Pop Culture Frenzy.  Today's question is pop governmental in nature.



The TSA has a new policy regarding the dogs working for them.
What is it?
Cyndi?




They're going to ban pointy eared
dogs because they scare children.



Hostmaster:  sadly, true.  Well, almost true.  According to TSA spokeswoman Lisa Farbstein, there is no official document documenting this.  However, the tenderhearted folks running the TSA are worried that children are distressed by dogs with ears that stand up.





Nobody is supposed to bother a working dog.  
What is going on?  Are children in airports
trying to pet a dog while he's sniffing
 for explosives or what?







Interesting decision.
 It's not traumatizing enough
 to be felt up by TSA personnel.
  Let's not ban the TSA's inappropriate
 touching of children.  
We must save the children
 from observing dogs with prick ears.
  You can't make this stuff up.






Who is teaching children to be afraid of dogs anyway?







You can't help but notice that some voices are telling 
children to be afraid of police.  These are police dogs.








Please. 
 Don't get Cyndi started on evil white cops!  
How did they determine that children
 are afraid of pointy eared dogs?  




Hostmaster:  it is unclear.  It's almost as though some fed folk were brain storming at a staff meeting and just up and decided children fear pointy ears.  The Rudolph effect, perhaps.







Usually they at least come up with a
 bogus study to back up their goofy proclamations. 
 Hey!  They are streamlining government!






Everybody knows that Dobermans have
 their ears cut so they stand up so they look more scary.







That may be, but do we have to go along and be scared?






This ear thing is the canine version
 of "toxic masculinity."








What will they do about German Shepherds 
and Belgian Shepherds?
  Deny them a job because of their appearance?






Gee, aren't there like, laws against that sort of thing?






Not for dogs.  Come on!  
Children shouldn't have to be exposed to scary things.






Wait.  Scary, like ears?  
I try not to say mean things but
 I've always thought there was something wrong with you.







You have pointy ears!







hahahaha
  You are funnier than usual today, Cyndi.







She's never funny.  
Anyway, I'm confused.  I thought everybody said
pit bulls were the bad dogs. 



  


Molly honey, pit bulls have floppy ears
 but sometimes have their ears trimmed 
and propped. It's like with Dobermans. 
If you try to understand this, you will hurt your head.








She has pointed ears!








She's a collie.
 You are so stupid; you are afraid of Lassie.







Of course Cyndi is scared of Lassie.
  She's a sheep.







That's enough of this round. 








Round 75
Fluffy/Molly 37  
Bryan/Cyndi   35













Yes.  Fear the pointed ears!!











Friday, December 21, 2018

O Come O Come Emmanuel







Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.  Let all men know your forbearance.  The Lord is at hand.  Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.  And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

-Philippians 4:4-7




Saturday, December 15, 2018

Pop Culture Frenzy, Round 74

Welcome once again to Pop Culture Frenzy.  Let's proceed to our question.




Lou Ferrigno has been hospitalized for something involving his bicep.  What happened?
Molly?






Who's Lou Ferrigno?



Hostmaster:  he's a body builder best known for his role in the Incredible Hulk.  It was a TV show in the 1970's.  Bill Bixby played a scientist who messed up an experiment that caused him to morph into an angry green muscle man. 





Cockles and muscles, alive alive, oh!







Ever notice that when Bixby changed
into Ferrigno his shirt got torn but 
his pants didn't?








Maybe that's how he hurt his bicep.
All that shirt tearing caused the
 tendon to snap from overuse.  Then it
zipped up inside his arm like a window shade.





Hostmaster:  incorrect.
Cyndi?



Steroids.



Hostmaster:  incorrect.  Meh.  You guys will never guess this one.  He had a bad reaction to a pneumonia vaccine.  He claims it was improperly administered.





Will he morph into Bill Bixby?





It's surprising that this sort of thing
doesn't happen more often.  People
get flu shots at the grocery store.
The cashier is nice but do you really want
to trust her with a hypodermic needle?





This round is over.










Round 74
Fluffy/Molly   37
Bryan/Cyndi    34













Read about Ferrigno's bad luck here.

Thursday, December 13, 2018

Deer Me

Here in Michigan, firearm hunting season is over.  My daily walks resume without fear of being mistaken for a deer.





My neighbors like some wild meat for their freezer.   Nothing wrong with that.  Alas, my latent paranoia flares up sometimes.  My favorite fall coat is brown. One of my dogs who accompanies me on my walks is tall, gray and long legged. 





I'm surrounded by No Trespassing signs and Keep Out signs and Private Property signs. Thus, I'm not afraid of some stranger wandering by and mistaking me for a deer.  I'm worried that one of the neighbors on the other side of the treeline might get sloppy.  Such is the trouble with irrational fears- they tend toward the irrational.





Just to be clear.  I'm not anti gun or anti hunter.  I like venison.  It's just that my do-it-yourselfer tendencies don't apply to shooting the deer I've been observing all year in my backyard.  I understand that others don't share that policy.  That's why they have venison in their freezer and I don't.






Maybe it's the difference between country people and people who happen to live in the country.  I am the latter.  My suburban background is a stain that won't wash off.  While I'm no wild eyed kid looking to save wild animals (I know about overcrowding.  I've seen the bodies of deer on the side of the road.  I've seen skinny deer in winter).  I just can't imagine shooting that buck when I remember him when his rack was just two little bumps between his ears.







Or one of the does...  There was the one with two fawns.  She was large with a face more horse than deer.  The other doe was smaller, prettier.  I am careful not to name the deer as some people do, so as not to get attached.  Alas, that doesn't change the fact that I recognize them individually.






Should some desperate doomsday apocalypse scenario arise where I'd be forced to shoot to survive,  Little Buck and Big Buck and Pretty Doe and Horse Face might be in danger from this neighbor.






Sure hope it doesn't come to that.

Tuesday, December 4, 2018

RIP Clem

There are no good pictures of Clem.  It is most unfortunate because he was quite unique.   Clem was a small brown Society finch with a tuft of feathers on the top of his head that made him look like he was wearing a bad rug.  He had bulging Peter Lorre eyes and a posture like Quasimodo.




He was spunky.  He came to live with us in Novmber 2011 along with two other Society finches.  Flora and Roger were not unfriendly to Clem but they never really warmed to him either.  Clem was determined however, to be close to his brethren.








He had a injured wing and couldn't fly, so those first few days in his new home, he would climb the wall of the cage to join the others where they were perched.  (In time, his wing healed.) 

Flora and Roger died about two and a half years later.  Clem had other companions over the next few years who also died.  Society finches, in general, don't like to be alone.  Clem was a particularly gregarious Society finch.



That is Clem wedged in the middle.



Clem was enthusiastic about food.  Whenever a new fresh something would appear clothes-pinned to the side of the cage, he'd be the first to taste it.  The daily birdcage clean up routine around here involves removal of the seed cup for an hour or more.  When fresh seed was placed in the cage Clem would always rush to the cup even before the cage door was closed.  

I shall miss saying to him, "you starvin', Clem?"





That's Clem on the left.



In April 2016 a Society finch named Stanislaus moved in with Clem.  (Alas, there are no pictures of Stanislaus at all.  It's a pity.  He is a handsome bird, burly, dark brown back, pale underside, a large white patch on his head.) Clem and Stanislaus bonded strongly. They perched close together most all the time, bathed together, groomed each other,  murmured to each other....





This morning as Clem sat on the bottom of the cage unable to move anymore, Stanislaus stood beside him.  When Clem died, Stanislaus became agitated and flitted around the cage.  Clem's body has been removed.  Stanislaus now perches solemn and alone.