Sunday, July 22, 2007

Meet Blueberry


If Dinsdale were alive today, he'd be rolling in his greyhound grave! He would be most displeased! Or, maybe not.

After several months of lobbying, I finally gave in and we have adopted "Blueberry", a lovely five year-old rescue Miniature Pinscher. She was rescued from a puppy mill somewhere in Ohio, where she had spent her entire life being bred up the wazoo. Her grossly elongated teets (sp?) are testimony to the number of puppies forced out of her. Apparently, and this may be the case in Canada, they give out kennel licenses in Ohio like they were cereal box toys.

After Blueberry outlived her "usefulness", she was mercifully handed over to a rescue operation, I.M.P.S. (Internet Miniatur Pinscher Society) and found her way to a nice lady in Ottawa, who fostered her. We had been warned that this particular breed was not the best to have around a young child (Liam is approaching his first birthday as I write this!), however we were assured that Blueberry had been exposed to children and seemed alright with them.

We have had Blueberry for about 24 hours, and what a fun full day it has been! Even as I write, he is baying in the background, likely because Cathy has gone out and hasn't returned for a couple of hours. He arrived yesterday with four other dogs who were travelling with the nice lady from Ottawa. Within ten minutes of their arrival, there were four "accidents" on our living room carpet, for which Blueberry was responsible for two! Both number one and number two! Good thing I talked Cathy out of getting a new rug for the living room!

Since then, not a single one! We were concerned, also, about how her first night would be with us. Again, no problems. We (and she) decided that she would sleep between Cathy and I the first night. We put her down between us at about 9:30 p.m. and she didn't make a sound the whole night.

She hasn't eaten too much since arriving, either. We hope that changes once she gets a little more used to her new surroundings. We have Eukanuba in a small dish for her. I swear by this product, as it kept Dinsdale the fit of health for his 11.5 years! Although, it didn't keep the cancer away (sniff!). She has a mildly disconcerting habit of taking bits of the food away from her dish and strewing it across the kitchen floor. We hope she can "unlearn" this habit.

Liam is thrilled. He was the reason I eventually bent and allowed Blueberry into our home. I am still feeling devastated at the loss of Dinsdale and said, initially, that I wanted another year before getting another dog - and another greyhound. However, Liam screeches with delight every time he sees a dog, so we figured now was a good time to get another one. He has tried to gently stroke her on a couple of occasions and Blueberry seems quite tolerant of him. If she isn't interested, she'll simply scurry away (like she does from me on most occasions!). She likes to hide from me under the dining room table. However, when I do manage to get my hands on her, she doesn't offer too much of a protest when I pick her up.

Its been a busy weekend! Between the Tour de France and the British Open on television (Rasmussen still leading, Padraig Harrington over Sergio Garcia in a playoff), and trying desperately to get through he new Harry Potter book before I find out who dies from an outside media source, I have been of somewhat limited help to Cathy in looking after Liam and now Blueberry. But we have the rest of the summer to get her used to her new home.

Just a bit of an editorial for those wanting to get a pet: never mind a puppy or a kitten. There are many, many adult animals that need rescuing just like Blueberry and Dinsdale all those years ago. Only today, there was an article in the Toronto Sun about the fact that the Toronto Humane Society has been overrun with over 1,000 unwanted animals. Contact your local SPCA or Humane Society, or find another rescue organization. They even have breed specific ones, such as the Internet Miniature Pinscher Service or the Greyhound Lovers of Hamilton Wentworth. You won't regret it!

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Passage from Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five


Not that I am rabidly anti-war or anything, but I found this passage from Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five very interesting:

{Billy}....turned on the television. He came slightly unstuck in time, saw the late movie backwards, then forwards again. It was a movie about American bombers in the Second World War and the gallant men who flew them. Seen backwards by Billy, the story went like this:

American planes, full of holes and wounded men and corpses took off backwards from an airfield in England. Over France, a few German fighter planes flew at them backwards, sucked bullets and shell fragments from some of the planes and crewmen. They did the same for wrecked American bombers on the ground, and those planes flew up backwards to join the formation.

The formation flew backwards over a German city that was in flames. The bombers opened their bomb bay doors, exerted a miraculous magnetism which shrunk the fires, gathered them into cylindrical steel containers, and lifted the containers into the bellies of the planes. The containers were stored neatly in racks. The Germans below had miraculous devices of their own, which were long steel tubes. They used them to suck more fragments from the crewmen and planes. But there were still a few wounded Americans, though, and some of the bombers were in bad repair. Over France, though, German fighters came up again, made everything and everybody as good as new.

When the bombers got back to their base, the steel cylinders were taken from the racks and shipped back to the United States of America, where factories were operating night and day, dismantling the cylinders, separating the dangerous contents into minerals. Touchingly, it was mainly women who did this work. The minerals were then shipped to specialists in remote areas. It was their business to put them into the ground, to hide them cleverly, so they would never hurt anybody again.

The American fliers turned in their uniforms, became high school kids. And Hitler turned into a baby, Billy Pilgrim supposed. That wasn't in the movie. Billy was extrapolating. Everybody turned into a baby, and all humanity, without exception, conspired biologically to produce two perfect people named Adam and Eve, he supposed.


Indeed.