Friday, August 23, 2013

Another Mystery.

Today makes the second time in a week that I've come home to find this dog:

trapped either in the bathroom or spare room. Based on his desperate run for freedom both times, it's easy to discern he'd been trapped for quite awhile.  The only other person home on both days was this little cat--who is roughly 1/5 of the dog's size:

Princeton P. Kitty swears up and down that he is innocent of all charges and he is trying to point the paw back at Bubba.  The problem is, Prince is pretty smart and Bubba is...well, let's just say he's aptly named. But is this the face of a creature who would trick his fellow animal into a small space and leave him there for hours?  Surely there's another explanation....right??!

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Weirdness Magnets and Wrong Numbers

My friend, Kathy told me the other day that I must have a weirdness magnet hidden somewhere on my person.  And today I learned that this magnet is so strong, it pulls in weirdoes from 2 states away!
Here’s how my morning started:

My phone rang and the caller id indicated the caller was in Elgin, IL –which, by the way, is about 11 hours away from where I live—but I’ve had several calls from that number in the past week  and I decided to go ahead and answer this one.

“May I please speak to Elizabeth So and So,” the woman said.
“I’m sorry, “ I said politely.  “But you must have the wrong number.”

“Hmmm,” she said.  “I have this number down.”  And repeated my number back to me.
“That’s this number,” I agreed.  “But there’s no one here named Elizabeth.”

“Well, I’m calling from the Dominican Art Gallery and we want to feature some of her work.” The woman said angrily.
“That sounds like a great opportunity for her,” I agreed.  “But I’m still not her.  I’ve never even heard of her. And, in fact, I’m no where near Elgin, Illinois.  I’m in Oklahoma.”

Which was, apparently, just about the most insulting thing anyone had ever said to her.
“Here at the Dominican Art Gallery we feature artists from ALL OVER THE COUNTRY!” She snapped. “And I was given this number as a contact number for Elizabeth So and So!”
I managed NOT to say that I was beginning to suspect why Elizabeth had fake numbered her…but I did say “Ma’am, I’ve had this same number for over 10 years  and I know who I am. I’m not Elizabeth anybody.”

“But this was the number—“ she started again.
“Yah, I’m hanging up now.”  I said.  And did.

Now I’m well aware that part of this probably occurs because I engage the weirdoes and don’t just hang up but come on!  Who argues with someone when they tell you that you have a wrong number?  And who knew that my weird magnet could reach so far??!!

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Lions and Tigers and ... Dogs?

Does anyone else remember the news story a few months ago about the tourists in Argentina who thought they were buying a poodle but when they got it home and took it to the vet realized that they had actually bought a ferret on steroids?

I would post the pics here but that would be a violation of those pesky copyright laws, so check them out here.

(It is interesting to note that, although this is horrible, there is a tiny little part of me that wants a poodle ferret).

Anyway, I was pretty sure that this was pretty much the limit in animal impersonation frauds.

But no!

Because yesterday I read about a Chinese zoo that tried to pass off a DOG as a LION.

To be fair, it was a huge Tibetan mastiff and not a Chihuahua, but still…it’s a DOG.  A fact the zoo patrons became aware of when some little kid was like “That lion is BARKING.”

Now the zoo officials are all “Oh, we didn’t mean to try to fool anyone.  We were just keeping the dog in the lion den for security reasons.”

Which is a little hard to believe because first of all, how does putting a dog in a lion pen help anyone feel secure?  Second, check out how that dog was all gussied up. Pretty sure that wasn't an accident.

However, this has led me to come up with an amazing fundraising idea.  I think I’m going to start a backyard zoo.  I won’t even have to get new animals; we already have enough.

The first think I’m going to do is dye Bubba’s eyebrows, muzzle and paws black and start calling him a panther.  And, unlike the Chinese zoo officials, I’m going to be prepared.  “He’s not barking,” I’ll say if anyone asks.  “He’s coughing. He’s very sick…and it’s probably contagious.  Don’t get too close.”


Then I’ll hurry them over to our next exhibit—the baby leopard.


Again, preparation will be important.  I mean, I can see it now…”That’s not a leopard,” some little kid will say.  “That’s a bald cat in a leopard coat.”

And I’ll say “Leopards ARE cats.”  And then the kid will feel stupid for speaking up and hopefully won’t say a word when I take them over to the polar bear habitat.  “We just have one,” I’ll say.  “And it’s just a baby, that's why it's so small.”

Seriously, I smell a million dollar opportunity!



Friday, August 16, 2013

2 Truths and a Lie

Ok, great fun today—Jenn at SomethingClever2.0   came up with an awesome Theme Thursday topic: 2 truths and a lie. We used to play this in college and the rules were simple—one person tells 3 stories or make 3 statements, 2 of them are true, 1 of them is a lie. Everyone else guesses which one is the lie…and if you’re wrong, DRINK!

Obviously, this is a little different than college but the basic principles are the same; 2 of the stories below are true and 1 is a lie. Put your guess in the comments!

I dropped out of veterinarian school.  If you’ve read my blog at all, you know I’m a little bit nuts about animals. When Opie and I started dating, I had 2 dogs, 2birds, and a cat.  I also fostered Chihuahuas for a rescue organization so occasionally had 2 or 3 other puppies in the house.  I’m a little obsessed.

So, right after I got my bachelor’s degree, I decided to go to veterinarian school.  It was an epic disaster.  I love animals but the thing about all medicine is that sometimes you have to cause a little pain to start the healing process.  And I got too emotional. I couldn’t even draw blood without crying. 

A situation not helped by the fact that I hate blood with the fire of a thousand suns.  The sight of it makes me woozy and the smell of it makes me want to throw up.
“You’ll get used to it,” the teachers said.
But I didn’t…so I left vet school and became a teacher instead…which was a much better choice. 

I’ve seen a UFO.  It was in college and my friend Kelly & I had gone to Worlds of Fun for the day.  Not for fun, though, but for this whole service project/fundraiser mess for our sorority.  We had to work at one of the food service stations and it was a nightmare.  After 8 hours of lugging big bins of hot dogs and fried chicken around the park, more energetic girls decided to stay and ride the rides. Kelly and I, on the other hand, ran for her car like we’d been shot from a gun.  And as we were driving through the middle of nowhere Missouri, we saw it.  2 bright lights in the distance surrounded by smoke that flashed red several times, rose slightly into the air, whirled around and disappeared. 

“What the hell was that?” I demanded.
“Well, it wasn’t a UFO.”  Kelly said quickly.  “Because only crazy people see UFOs.”

And I can’t think of any other explanation…but we’ve never talked about it again.

I’ve been to the Oval Office.  My mom’s best friend is married to a secret service agent.  When I was  a kid, we went to visit them in Washington D.C. Frank took us all over the city and got us into all the cool monuments, buildings etc.  Because I was just a kid, the thing that I thought was super cool then was the fact that, since we were with Frank, we didn’t have to wait in any of the lines – even at the White House. Frank would show his credentials and we just walked right in. 

But now that I’m older, the thing I think was coolest was that we could go places that weren’t on the regular tour.  And since the president was out of the country at the time (and no, I won’t say which one because that would give away my age J) we could go to the Oval Office.  We couldn’t go in and meander around, of course, but we got to see it.

So, what do you all think? Which one is a lie?  Put your guess in the comments and if you're wrong, DRINK!
For other 2 Truths and a Lie posts, click the link below. 


Saturday, August 10, 2013

Turtle Gate 2013

It's Super Sunday Sync--and I'm so excited to be guest hosting for the first time! Thanks to Kera , Dawn, and Mail4Rosey for giving me a chance.  To participate in this hop, look below to see all the guidelines and to link your own post!

And, since this is the Sunday Sync, I think I'll flashback to my last Sunday adventure...when the neighbor kids found a turtle.

Just a little three-toed box turtle that had been living in the bushes on the side of their house. They came over to show it to me as soon as I went out to water the garden.

"We're going to keep it!" They told me gleefully.

And it may be a sign of my impending emotional breakdown that I spent the rest of the day and most of the night worrying about the turtle.

See, I didn't know it was a three-toed box turtle when they shoved it in my face.  I came in, did a little bit of Internet research, figured out what it was, and then read that they don't do well in captivity because they are picky eaters...which is also why there is a growing concern about them becoming "locally depleted" in Oklahoma.

Now, please understand, I'm an animal lover but not an animal activist...and if I were 7 and 2 like the neighbor kids, I would have wanted to keep the turtle too.  The problem is, I already spend a lot of time worrying whether or not the neighbor kids are being taken care of--I have gently intervened when they were trying to jump on the trampoline (no guard around it by the way) on their BIKES, when they were trying to create some bizarre waterslide with the slip and slide and the trampoline, and when they were trying to climb over the fence into the other neighbor's yard to play with the "nice" Doberman. These are not children who are well-supervised.

Basically, I figured that, in their care, the poor turtle had the same life expectancy as an ice cream cone.

So, the added stress of worrying about their emotional devastation when they inadvertently killed the turtle and worrying about the turtle himself just about sent me over the edge.

First, I made a few subtle suggestions that they should release the turtle...and that the turtle didn't want to jump on the trampoline...and that the Doberman next door didn't want to be friends with the turtle...and so on.

Then, when that didn't work, I spent a little too much time, in Opie's opinion, peeking out the window at the kids with the turtle.  But that's only because he didn't realize I was just doing recon to see where they were going to keep the turtle when they went in for the night--a large blue bucket.

And I must say that he was fairly unimpressed with my elaborate Turtle Rescue fact, he seemed to think it was borderline psychotic.

"It's supposed to storm tonight," I told him.  "What we'll do is wait until the middle of the night, then when it's raining really hard, sneak over and grab the turtle and just put the bucket on its side.  They'll think the storm blew it over...they'll forget about the turtle, the turtle will be safe and--"

"You're losing it," he said.

And flat out refused to take part in what he called Turtle-Gate.

Which made it impossible to implement my plan because I don't really feel comfortable sneaking into the neighbor's backyard without a lookout.

I mean, I wanted to save the turtle and all but I didn't want to get arrested to do it.

Or, considering this IS Oklahoma, shot.

So, this morning, I got up bright and early and went out to water the garden again...and just kept staring at that stupid blue bucket.  No one was up over at the neighbors', as far as I could tell, and the bucket was just sitting there...and I kept debating in my head whether the kids needed this little turtle in their lives, if they would be more devastated if the turtle escaped or if it died, if I had some sort of moral imperative to save a defenseless turtle...

In retrospect, maybe Opie's right and I do obsess about these things a little too much.

In any case, I finally decided that if no one was up by the time I was finished watering the garden that I could take that as a sign that God wanted me to rescue the turtle.

Which now has all my Christian friends shaking their heads at me...yes, I am well aware that we aren't supposed to ask God for signs, much less outline the exact sign we're looking for.  But with the state of the world today, I suspect God has more pressing concerns than my turtle-induced hysteria.  I was trying to save Him some time.

And you know what?

He must have appreciated my efforts because look what was right outside my garden--well away from the well-meaning but dangerous hands of the neighbor kids:

So the turtle is free, I am un-jailed and not shot, Opie is relieved but waiting nervously for my next obsessive freak out, and the neighbor kids are unscathed.  Plus I have new respect for the neighbor kids' grandmother who said "He must have climbed out of the bucket" with a straight face when they asked her what could have happened.

You can't ask for much more than that.

Welcome to Super Sunday Sync #48!
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