BTALD - That's not your dog.

Okay, so it's common knowledge that people often look like their dogs. That's why I find it especially amusing when I see some burly guy walking what is clearly his girlfriend's little tiny dog with the rhinestone collar. On the one hand I think, "Dude, that's so obviously not your dog." But then I think, "That dude is really nice for walking what is so obviously not his dog." Since he has to put up with looks from people like me. And the dog is thinking, "Cool! I get to go out with this burly dude." So it works out.

BTALD: Bird Poop Furniture

There's a nest of baby birds outside my window currently. The nest they're in is a used one, that's been there since last year. I meant to take it down, but I was pretty sure that no other birds would come use it again because, well, it's full of baby bird poop.

I hadn't thought about baby bird poop until I got to observe this whole process up close last spring. But I guess if you're doing nothing but sitting in a nest, and eating, it follows that there'll be poop. In the nest.

Ick.

Well, the birds are back and re-using the poopy nest.

I keep thinking I'll peek in there and they will have made little poop sofas and stuff.

I'm definitely going to take that nest down when they're done with it - so they can get a fresh start next year. That's just gross.

How not to spew ants everywhere

Thinking about anteaters makes me want to sneeze. It's something about snorking ants through your snout.
I wonder if animals ever sneeze when they are eating. There's that moment of semi-panic when you realize you're going to sneeze and you have a mouthful of food and you hope you don't spray it everywhere...
It must be allergy season.

Cat Butts Are Evil.

This cartoon, as you can probably tell by the lack of formatting, is on the old side - probably early 90's. But it does express a sentiment that I feel is relevant even today - the fact that cat butts are evil.
My cat's butt is the unforeseen toxic hazard of my home-based workplace.
Not long ago, my cat, who is middle-aged, lost the ability to swallow dry food properly. So, he now gets the gooey, byproducts-of-byproducts stuff. And whoooo-eeee, can that stuff produce some stench.
Sometimes, when I walk in the door, I know something is wrong. Something is lurking in the back of the house. As I get closer, it gets worse. Until I get to the study, where I am supposed to be able to think and draw and exist peacefully. Except that it is now the Land of Pew.
Dang. I open a window, and I try to remove the offending item as quickly as possible. But meat byproducts have really heavy molecules I think, so that awful stench just sits there.
I did not foresee my cat's butt as an issue in my career. But when the air is heavy and acrid, my thoughts just sit there like -- well, like a turd. It's awful.
Fortunately it's getting sunny out, so I can grab a sketchbook and head for the yard. Quickly. While the various byproduct molecules clear out.
I love the front end of my cat. Shoot, I love his sides too.
But his butt is kind of career-limiting at times.
So, I guess to keep working here I'm just gonna have to accept that being fast with a scoop is a job skill I need. Badly.

It's 3am, and your kids are... right THERE, lady!!!

Many of us as parents know that feeling when we momentarily lose our kid in a crowd, or around a corner... and we call out their name really loud, and everyone looks... it's not great.
However, when you are a duck, you have the added disadvantage that things like, say, getting more than 20 feet away from your ducklings can cause you total confusion. Even in the middle of the night when there's nothing else going on.
So, you call out for them. And, nothing happens. So, you call some more.
In fact, let's just quote the duck here:
"Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack."
Pause.
"Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack.
Splash. Flap around.
"Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack."
After about 30 minutes of this going on outside our bedroom window, I decided to investigate what drama might be unfolding in the creek beside our house. I put on shoes that looked really good with my PJs, got a flashlight, and headed out.
From my new vantage point outside, I could hear more of what was going on. It sounded like this:
"Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack."
(Somewhere up the creek) "Peep. Peep. Peep. Peep. Peep. Peep. Peep."
"Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack."
"Peep. Peep. Peep. Peep."
This was beginning to sound like:
"Come over here!"
"No, you come over here!"
"No, YOU come over HERE!"
Enough. I tossed a pebble behind the duck and startled her toward her kids.
Not far enough though. So she stood there in her new spot and yelled some more.
So I threw another pebble. I really really wanted to go back to bed.
This time she got further down and apparently found her ducklings. There was much cooing and peeping and stuff. Best of all, it was further away.
Satisfied, I headed back to bed.
As I drifted off I could faintly hear her going on and on and on - and as I fell asleep it started to sound like, "Don't you EVER wander off like that again! Don't you know you can get LOST out here? How am I supposed to FIND you! You stay next to me from now on, you HEAR?"
"Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack. Quack....."

Drama.

This cartoon is a tribute to all those people we know who have more drama in their lives than the rest of us. And it's not because their lives are particularly more dramatic, it's because they know how to bring out the drama in pretty much anything.

We all know people like this - the people for whom a small blip on the radar means imminent galactic exploding traumatic disaster.

Come to think of it, we all probably trade off being this person.

Do Animals Get Annoyed?

When I see a nature special, I often wonder how many of those animals are getting on each other's nerves. Do ground squirrels dig into each other's burrows? Does everybody think, "There's those hyenas again. They are SO irritating." And, what about those birds that sit on top of other animals?

We currently have a little nature event taking place in our attic. Someone small and furry is hanging out up there and making digging and scratching noises at exactly the same time every night. We tried to close the spot that we thought our friend was getting in, but the noise continues. So we are either acting out an Edgar Allen Poe story in slight miniature, having trapped him in there, or our friend has some other way of getting in and out. I'm guessing the latter. But maybe we'll look up there and there will be a mini fridge and shag carpet and bean bag chairs. I'll let you know.

Barf.

Alright, those last couple posts have been kind of esoteric, so now let's talk cat barf.
You see, recently my cat barfed on my pillow. On. My pillow.
And yes, it soaked on through.
So, obviously this is not a usable pillow any more. But, not wanting to be wasteful, I attempted to wash the pillow in the washing machine.
Well, as everyone knows, a wet pillow is a 600-pound pillow. And so the washing machine cannot spin it around.
So, I got a soapy, 600-pound pillow.
I then lugged it outside and dumped it on the ground, where it proceeded to leak water everywhere for seriously a day or so.
Then I flipped it over and it leaked some more.
Now it's kind of fluffy, but it's soapy, as I mentioned. So it needs to be rinsed.
I thought about the bathtub, but that's too far from the door. I' wouldn't know how to get the 600-pound pillow outside again.
So there it sits, impressing everyone who resents when people just leave random stuff sitting outside their houses.
I'm not sure what to do with it now.
It is mocking me.
My cat is mocking me too.
Barf.