My friend Kevin mentioned yesterday that he and his wife conducted a focus group session to evaluate which posts on this blog suck and which don’t. According to this fair and balanced study - which sought the input from a wide range of audiences, including two sexes (which is the maximum number) - posts containing pictures of Mack are more popular than posts about Dutch guys. I am certain the study is legitimate because it included a graphic. It is a little known fact, however, that graphics can sometimes be misleading. Assuming I was misinterpreting the graphic, I sought clarification. Surely the entries about Dutch guys intersects with the set of popular posts. The response I received was as follows:
Sorry to disappoint, but she does say that the set of entries about Dutch guys doesn’t intersect with the set of entries she likes.
It has something to do with you not being as cute as Mack.
A few months ago we were grilling corn and and, because we totally suck at it, we messed it up so badly that we only wanted to eat about half of what we made. What did we do with left over corn? Why, fed it to the doggs, of course. Now, the actual cob is rather unhealthy for a dog since it’s hard to pass. To circumvent this problem Michelle decided to see if Mack could eat corn off the cob like a human. As it turns out, he can. It seemed oddly natural to him, and he approached it as though it was the most normal thing in the world. He must have said to himself, “This cob might not be good for my digestive system; I think I’ll try to bite the kernels off individually. When I am done eating, I shall do Calculus.” Beene, on the other hand, consumed half a cob despite our best efforts to prevent her from doing so.
Naturally, we bragged about Mack’s newfound skill to our friends. Their dog, Bromley, is a prodigy: she can eat watermelon and ring a bell when she needs to be let outside. With their interest piqued, they investigated to see if Bromley’s repertoire could be expanded to include eating corn off the cob. Not surprisingly, it could.
Mack and Bromley rule at eating corn, Beene is confused. Enjoy.
Note: The quality of this version is lower than the Quicktime version available here. For best results, watch the Quicktime verison.
It’s raining today in Seattle. I know, we’re all in shock, too.
Two good things came out of it, though.
First, we are heading down to Ballard with some friends from up the street to hang out at Portalis, imbibe, and watch the bike race. The rain today is a good thing because the rookie Cat 4-5 race is going to be spectacular. I’m putting $5.00 on some douchebag deciding he’s going to win the race by launching his attack mid-corner while he’s still in the middle of the pack. That will be totally cool to watch.
Second, we got to try out the rain coats we just bought the dogs.
At the risk of making this sound like a blog about our doggs and how distorted our perspective is about them, it’s time to talk about Smackimus Desmus Meridius (Mack for short).
Mack, I’m quite convinced, was a gladiator in a past life. He is incredibly smart, built like a brick shithouse (or was it a shit brickhouse?), and the most insane athlete you can imagine. As a gladiator, he would have had absolutely no problem taking out Tigris of Gaul. In fact, even in his current life, he still routinely tears through one of his toys, jumps up, and gives us a defiant look that says, “ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?”
He’s wicked smart, and, in sharp contrast to our other dog, actually has instincts left. (OK, technically Beene does have one instinct, but I’m not sure “run like a retard in the opposite direction of the noise” really counts as an “instinct” but serves more as “strategery to make things suck”.) I’m convinced that if Mack broke out into the wild, he would not only thrive, but be considerably better off than he is now. He would also somehow overcome the handicap of having been neutered and still father a gaggle of mini-Macks.
As you may have noticed in the many photos of Beene, Mack is missing from all of them. This is not because we’re ignoring him or Photoshopping him out of the pictures. No, this is because during every moment spent out of doors, Mack is engaging in one of the following activities:
Patrolling a Pachinko
Making sure no armadillos are infiltrating our perimeter
Squeaking any and all squeak toys he can find
Verifying that any toys that were not squeak toys upon last inspection have not become squeak toys since then
Trying to eat bird seed that the birds have knocked out of their feeder (slobs)
Calculating the various trajectories that woud need to be employed to neutralize any threats that might present themselves
None of these are frivolous activities such as cold chillin’ on someone’s lap and demolishing chairs in the process. No, he is involved in practical tasks that serve to better the world.
So, I mentioned he is really smart. That’s cool, because it has made him a really well-behaved and well-mannered dog. That said, it also means that once he gets something in his head, he is completely one-track minded about the affair.
Take, for instance, our most recent trip to the pet store, Bark, in Ballard. We took both dogs down to buy rain coats for them. Yes, I know, this is idiotic. However, as you may have heard, rainfall is not entirely rare in Seattle, and while Mack has a downy layer of fur to keep him warm, Beene is an evolutionary anomaly and, due to the chilling effect of wet fir, reacts in one of two ways to rainfall. The first is to shake like a leaf and refuse to move. Not good when the dog weighs 150 pounds and shrieks like she’s being murdered when you pull firmly on her leash. The second is to bound and leap, no doubt in an effort to stay warm. This is also bad if the dog weighs 150 pounds and you like the way your vertebrae and shoulders are configured. Also see the note about shrieking in response to a firm yank on the leash, which inadvertently happens while she’s lunging around. (Then combine that with her one “instinct”. That is what I call a “vicious cycle”. The end of the cycle, incidentally, involves the person at the other end of the leash trolling for asphalt with their face.)
Anyway, we were in the market for doggie rain coats, and Bark had a sale. We figured it would be nice to get Mack one while we were at it. When we brought Mack into the store, our normally well-mannered dog went bananas in response to all the animal smells he encountered. When the lady behind the counter gave them each a treat, his ears stopped functioning and his brain simply became an ornament. All he could hear was a loud buzzing sound. I’m pretty sure he was also cross-eyed during this time. He scrounged around like a damn bloodhound with his nose to the ground, or balanced on his back legs, looking for treats on counter tops. There were several cases where he was chewing something crunchy, but I’m not convinced they were treats. I don’t want to think about what he actually did find.
We were never able to get him to sit still long enough to try a coat on and we had to guess what size to get him. I hope it fits.
posts on this blog suck and which don’t. According to this fair and balanced study - which sought the input from a wide range of audiences, including two sexes (which is the maximum number) - posts containing pictures of Mack are more popular than posts about Dutch guys. I am certain the study is legitimate because it included a graphic. It is a little known fact, however, that graphics can sometimes be misleading. Assuming I was misinterpreting the graphic, I sought clarification. Surely the entries about Dutch guys intersects with the set of popular posts. The response I received was as follows:
about half of what we made. What did we do with left over corn? Why, fed it to the doggs, of course. Now, the actual cob is rather unhealthy for a dog since it’s hard to pass. To circumvent this problem Michelle decided to see if Mack could eat corn off the cob like a human. As it turns out, he can. It seemed oddly natural to him, and he approached it as though it was the most normal thing in the world. He must have said to himself, “This cob might not be good for my digestive system; I think I’ll try to bite the kernels off individually. When I am done eating, I shall do Calculus.” Beene, on the other hand, consumed half a cob despite our best efforts to prevent her from doing so.
k about Smackimus Desmus Meridius (Mack for short).
Yes, I know, this is idiotic. However, as you may have heard, rainfall is not entirely rare in Seattle, and while Mack has a downy layer of fur to keep him warm, Beene is an evolutionary anomaly and, due to the chilling effect of wet fir, reacts in one of two ways to rainfall. The first is to shake like a leaf and refuse to move. Not good when the dog weighs 150 pounds and shrieks like she’s being murdered when you pull firmly on her leash. The second is to bound and leap, no doubt in an effort to stay warm. This is also bad if the dog weighs 150 pounds and you like the way your vertebrae and shoulders are configured. Also see the note about shrieking in response to a firm yank on the leash, which inadvertently happens while she’s lunging around. (Then combine that with her one “instinct”. That is what I call a “vicious cycle”. The end of the cycle, incidentally, involves the person at the other end of the leash trolling for asphalt with their face.)
;){kind=link}