Archive for the ‘dogs’ Category

Steak n Kidney
19 September, 2016

lem

Gigantor and I enjoyed his first flight ever. on Friday night.  I advised him to enjoy the hostie’s safety dance. She brandished the demo gas mask.

Me: “Oh, don’t worry about this bit. Oxygen is an add-on. You’ll just have to steal the breath out of old mate’s lungs in the event of loss of cabin pressure.”

He stared at me for more than 30 seconds making the “what even?” face before the penny dropped.

We stayed in Mantra 2 a short walk from Circular Quay which was delightful, especially when I got up before the others yesterday and had the rooftop spa to myself.

We had planned to do Zoo and Luna Park but sense prevailed and we enjoyed a lovely day at Taronga on Saturday.  Highlights were seeing a Komodo dragon nearly close enough for it to drench us in poisoned spit, and a shark laying an egg.  And there’s a lemur enclosure where you can be in the same space as the lemurs!  It was a beautiful clear but not too hot day and I was struck by how friendly the keepers were and how every time you looked up there was another postcard slice of the Harbour to admire.

The lass pictured has a shar pei/staffie cross and I think I persuaded her to take the dog to the beach when she got off duty instead of Woolies and house-cleaning.

Went to the Rocks on Sunday but slightly hampered by a marathon and the grey drizzly weather  We decided that yes, it is pretentious to wear your finisher’s medallion around over your street clothes well after the end of the race.  Gelati for breakfast and a long browse through a button shop.

So far, so fabulous!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Cat Jail
27 August, 2016

$_20

OK, not our actual house but you know what I’m like with taking photos.  The enclosure we got is very similar, but it has marine carpeting to the base, also.  And an extra high shelf with ramp.  The tunnel to TGP’s window is shorter and there is a lockable cat flap.

I went with this mob because they coat the metal with something that’s said to be stronger than galvanising and meant to last 10 years plus.  As you know anything metal here usually rusts out in under 6 months and although I love Q’s Cat Max, I was concerned the fittings would crumble.

The good news is poor agoraphobic Flotsam can now venture out for a sunbathe.  The other good news is Dad paid for 2/3 of it.  Huzzah!

Dog blog, by request
8 June, 2014

sleeping beauty

Here she is, sleeping on the couch.  Yes, her fur is as soft and silky as the picture suggests.

Sari sleeping

Not as good a photo, but so you can get an idea of scale.  This is an IKEA three-seater.  She’s now almost eight months old.

 

Welcome to the world, baby girl
14 November, 2013

AKA Mojo AKA Puppy-puppy Moi-Moi

AKA Mojo AKA Puppy-puppy Moi-Moi

Dah dah!

Sorry it’s taken so long, but here she is.  Our brand-new, eight-week old Bandog pup.  Called, depending on who you ask, Sari, Mojo or Puppy-puppy Moi-moi.

The cats despise her, but do sneak up to me for cuddles when she’s not around, so they don’t seem to be holding a grudge.  Unless they also do the revenge-served-cold thing in feline society, I suppose.

Strange Days
29 September, 2012

Strange day yesterday, ladies and lurkers. I had a lovely day’s Brisvegas Holiday Excursion planned with MM, EB, a BFF and her two kids. Started off instead by having to: grief counsel my father through his dog’s terminal illness (progressive spinal cord stenosis) as I ate my egg on Vegemite toast; guide him through the decision-making process, i.e. that he needed to man up and have the dog put down because it had reached the suffering stage and had no prospect of remission, let alone improvement; and then drive them both to the vet when I was so successful he decided to do it. Right then and there.

EB is a big animal lover and also his Grandpa’s favourite, so when he said he wanted to come too I thought it would be doubly good: for EB to have up-close experience of death before it was a much-loved person involved, and so that he could console his Grandpa.

As you will have guessed, I was wrong. We ended up that Grandpa did the male-of-his-generation thing and pulled a strong, silent act, while EB spent the next hour or more sobbing uncontrollably.

I was correct about one thing – it was best I was there to drive them both home.

So I returned to my parents’ house to race through the preparations for our day out.  All the while EB was insisting that he needed to do a Great Garbo (I vant to be alone), with me trying to nurture him while he grieved, but equally adamant  that we had to proceed with the outing and he had to come with us.  We had gorgeous clear, sunny but not too hot weather and the excursion went fabulously well for 6 hours – fun ride in on the ferry, lots of fun in various South Bank water features, great company, awesome Lego robots, kids even behaving beautifully.

And then, just as we were about to pack up the remains of afternoon tea and make our tired but happy way home, MM’s BF-in-the-world slammed his head into a post while running in the playground.  Straight away, a lump the size of a small avocado and the colour of hailclouds swelled on his forehead. Naturally enough, his Mum panicked.  The helpful staff at the cafe next to the playground gave me a cup of ice without hesitation – thanks Steam Cafe- and then the South Bank lifesavers gave us a plastic bag full of ice.  By the time we were on the ferry home, the lump was down to a third of original size and Mum had stopped hyperventilating.  Mostly.

The evening turned out well, with a lovely BBQ with my cousin and his husband.  If anyone wants a recipe for marshmallow and sour-cream salad . . . much nommier than it sounds. . . I now have one.

And an odd footnote:  my horoscope advised that my day would start well, but unavoidable complications and difficulties would ensue.