Friday, April 15, 2011

Big Chief's Fables, Elephant Edition

In 1986, Peter Davies was on vacation in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University.

On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Peter approached very carefully.

He got down on one knee, inspected the elephants foot, and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it. As carefully and as gently as he could, Peter worked the wood out with his knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot. The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on his face, stared at him for several tense moments. Peter stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away. Peter never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.

Twenty years later, Peter was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenage son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Peter and his son Cameron were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Peter, lifted his front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all while staring at the man.

Remembering the encounter in 1986, Peter could not help wondering if this was the same elephant. Peter summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing, and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped his trunk around one of Peter's legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly.

Probably wasn't the same elephant.

This is for all my friends who send me those heart-warming bullshit stories.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

The Cat in the Hat. And Couch. And Tub. The Cat Gets Into Pretty Much Everything.

So like I said in a previous post, we have a dog and two cats. Well, they scratch everything because they're cats. And that is what cats with claws do. Nala, the smaller one, gets into the inside of the couch too. And ripped open the underside of the box spring on the guest bed, and gets in that. And gets in the bathtub. She gets into everything. Rejar, the other cat, is fat and lays around. He either wants nothing to do with me, or constantly wants me to pet him. Lucy, my dog, follows me around and generally just wants to be near me, and have me pet her and play with her most of the time.

So most of the time, since we moved to Florida, the cats have spent a lot of time in what has apparently become "their" room. But recently, I've insisted the cats have the run of the house except the bedroom and my office. Why have cats if they're going to be, I dunno... aquarium cats? Why keep them in a room? So, out and about they go. They're so happy, laying around and frolicking or whatever happy playful cats do. And I've learned something from their freedom.

I'm not a cat person.

Fun Facts

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Suddenly A Post Appears

What's this? A year? A year since the last post. More than a year, really. What madness is this? (please no Sparta references. The humor market is over saturated in them.) So after more than a year, why post now? And why not post for so long?

I moved twice in the last year. A total of about 1,500 miles. The world turned upside down. Luckily I held on to a tree while everyone else fell into the sky. But I digress.

The point is, here I am. A lot has happened that kept me away. But after hearing several people ask me, right to the point, to start posting here again, I am. I'll try to post more often than, oh, I don't know, once a YEAR. But we'll see.

So, we had one cat. Last summer we got another kitten. Her name is Nala (because my wife named her) and she was adorably cute. Now, she's still cute, but also gross. She's growing up, so now she's in heat. I'm like, oh great, let's hurry and get her spayed. But for some reason we keep forgetting to look up info for that. Like, I could be looking up the info right now, but I'm writing. Writing here. Right now. ALL FOR YOU. See, it's your fault.

I kid! But really, we do keep forgetting because of one thing or another. Like standing in Walmart for 3 hours the other night to get medicine from the pharmacy. Or buying a tanker truck full of paint at Home Depot, and preparing to paint, you know, walls and rooms and stuff. So a friend of mine told me what she does with her cat to stop her from yowling all the time when she's in heat. She advised me to do what she does. "Q-tip fuck" her.

Yeah, no. There's no way I'm doing that. It made me cringe. So eventual spaying it will be. And let us never speak of Q-tips and sexual acts in the same sentence ever again.

We got a dog too. Not a god, like I almost just wrote. Doopid common dyslexic word. A dog. Golden Retriever, female. Her name is Lucy. I'm not sure how I came up with that name, although I was playing a lot of Assassin's Creed Brotherhood then. She's a good dog. The best. She gets along well with Nala, but Rejar (the other cat) is still a little standoffish. He's like that with other dogs too, but hopefully he will warm up to her.

Maybe not.

Lucy isn't fixed either. A few months ago, she was in heat and she was bleeding on the floor. And when she wasn't bleeding on the floor, she was licking her vagoo. Then giving kisses to everyone. She needs to be fixed soon also, before she goes into heat again. Or else my friend will try to Q-tip fuck her too.

Until next time, Reader.