This morning on our walk, Darling Doggie Dallas and I passed a puppy wearing the “Cone of Shame.”
For those unfamiliar with this device, it’s basically a lampshade attached to the animal’s collar to prevent it from licking wounds. In this case, it was being worn in the aftermath of neutering surgery.
“How’s he doing with that?” I asked the dog’s owner.
“Not too bad,” he said. “He doesn’t seem to mind it too much, really.”
I just realized it’s been awfully long since I posted pictures of the jewelry I’ve been beading, so let’s remedy that, shall we?
If you’re not into beads or jewelry or creativity, that’s okay. We don’t all have the same interests. You can skip reading right now.
Sure, you’ll hurt my feelings, but I’ll get over it. As Henry Rollins said, “Being an artist is dragging your innermost feelings out, giving a piece of yourself, no matter in which art form, in which medium.”
Just don’t leave forever, ‘k? Come back and join us next time, when I’m not writing about beads!
Still here? Great — thanks, and let’s get right to it.
Have you ever been so mad you wanted to slap somebody?
Yesterday at Mass (I know, a lot of good it does attending Church if you’re going to leave angry!), this family came in and sat nearby. I’d seen them before: Dad, Mom, two boys (probably aged 14 or 15), Daughter #1 (maybe 12 or so), and Daughter #3 (aged 5 or so).
What happened to Daughter #2, the one I’m guessing is 10-ish? Well, after the family was seated — and taking up an entire pew — Daughter #2 shows up, tries to scoot somebody over to get in the pew, and fails.