You guys thought Steve was angry?…
— ?? (@DIGIG00N) September 26, 2020
Just a reminder that Joe Biden’s dog is the Joe Biden of dogs. pic.twitter.com/8BQBO8HDA3
— Franklin Leonard (@franklinleonard) September 16, 2020
the most joe biden fact is that his dogs are named champ and major
— Rob Flaherty (@Rob_Flaherty) September 16, 2020
(Champ doesn't sit)
Joe: c'mon, man
— JC Foster ?? (@badbirdkc) September 17, 2020
(Bonus points: Champ’s a rescue… well, actually a ‘foster fail’.)
"Don't make a bucket list, a list of things to do, but rather a bucket of memories.
"Whatever it is you want to do, just get on and do it."
BBC News – Going for a Lake District walk with Max the Miracle Dog https://t.co/PNV1zMf9wg
— Samantha Barnes (@sambarnesartist) August 31, 2020
Kerry Irving was confined to his house and considering suicide after suffering an excruciating back injury in a car accident. But then he met Max, a yard dog who gave him a new purpose in life. The BBC joined them for a walk in their native Lake District…
In 2006 his car was rear-ended by a lorry, leaving him with crippling back pain.
He spent the following two years barely able to move, declining into a deep and seemingly irreversible depression.
Then one day, having been persuaded by his wife of 22 years Angela to walk to the local shop to get some milk, he met Max.
The then one-year-old poked his nose between the bars of a backyard gate and the two struck up an instant friendship.
Kerry suddenly had a purpose to go out – to see Max.
Max’s owners were struggling to give him the time he needed so were happy for Kerry to take their dog out for walks.
“It’s always been about the eye contact with Max, the way he looks at you and you just feel he cares,” Kerry says, as Max sits a short way away, appropriately enough gazing at us as a soggy stick hangs from his mouth…
He started putting pictures of Max on his business’s Facebook page and found that, perhaps not unsurprisingly, people were more interested in snaps of a spaniel than they were images of deconstructed locks…
“I started getting all these messages from people telling me how just seeing pictures of Max cheered them up,” Kerry says, as we stroll in the shade of the rocky outcrops of Low Riggs.
“And they started telling me their problems too.
“I understand it – if you see someone with a dog, they already seem friendlier. We stop and talk to people who have dogs, and something about Max just made people open up.
“I never used to want to talk about depression, but now I’m perfectly happy to because I have found that just talking about such things lifts them off your shoulders.”…
There are more big pictures at the link, and they are fantastic.
Looks like we could use an open thread.
I just pulled the camera post – I left it up by request – I got a couple of emails that gave me the info I needed. Thanks for the input.
Remember ducks in scarves (thanks to Momsense!). Well I mentioned that clothing on ducks is not the best idea, because…claws.
You can see what I mean here. That’s from Mabel when I went to do a health check on her. I didn’t have a good grip and she went to balance on me. Her health check – and Penelope’s and Maddie’s – were all fine. Me, not so much. Bactine to the rescue.
Respite open thread
Our host informed me today that I’ve run afoul of the pet photos clause in our blogging agreement, so here’s a photo of Old Daisy and Young Badger doing their synchronized sleeping thing:
Here’s the wee one looking like one of those lizards that can swivel their eyes in different directions. He’s just the goofiest creature on earth, as far as I know.
It’s notable that in every photograph where he’s not asleep, Badger looks alarmed. I don’t know why. His life is pretty stress-free. The only thing he’s in danger of in the photo above is someone throwing his damned tennis ball so he can chase it, which he invariably wants you to do.
He doesn’t play fetch like a normal dog, i.e., he doesn’t bring the ball back and drop it for you to throw. He expects to be chased down and have the ball taken away, then thrown. If you decline to chase him down, he’ll circle closer and closer, flaunting the ball and making a big show of how great it is to possess the ball, daring you to take it away until you finally do because the whole performance is so dumb.
Daisy very sensibly wants nothing to do with such foolishness and prefers to snooze and fart on her indoor or porch mat, depending on where the humans are located. She has the worst farts of any dog on the planet. If there was a way to measure such things, I would bet a substantial sum on it.
I’m going to do my best to ignore the news/internet today. Like everyone else, the last week has really taken a toll on my psyche. So here is some of what keeps me sane:
Two and a half years and I’ve yet to convince her she’s not a cat. My poor couch.
Here’s Gabe wondering when I’m going to put the clean sheets back on his bed.
Bixby, exhausted after a night of fireworks. Which never bothered him, until this year, but he’s been really out of sorts since I got sick and I am not allowed out of his sight. Ever.
I found these at the store a few weeks ago. Striped peppers. Very pretty, normal orange pepper flavor. One ended up in stir fry, the other in a salad.
And finally, here is Penelope getting her morning scritches.
That’s it – the other ducks and kittehs declined to offer you respite today. Maybe another day…
Notes: I have a Guest Post from Werebear coming up and I’m also gonna need some camera advice real soon, when I can stick around and participate in a thread. Thanks to everyone who gave me great advice on the Chromebook earlier.
That’s it! Respite open thread.