Not A Dollarshort

Animals Don't Lie.

So my mom calls me up and says "I just saw the most depressing episode of Pet Psychic."

Coincidentally, she called me last Sunday to tell me the same thing; the difference being that last week, it was the first episode of the series, and apparently, just as depressing.

Mena: Why do you watch the show if it just upsets you?

Mom: I don't know. It's just so sad. I cried during the entire show. There was this raccoon whose mother was killed in a freak logging accident. And the little raccoon witnessed it! And now, it never wants to leave rehabilitation.

Mena: You know this is how the show works. Do you really expect a reading to be happy and positive? "Oh, I'm such a happy dog, I'm so spoiled. Keep up the good work." That's not going to happen.

Mom: I know. And there was this miniature horse...

Mena: I don't want to hear it.

The thing is, I'm just like my mother. If Ben and I actually got Animal Planet as a part of our digital cable package, I would subject myself to these same depressing segments on what animals (often abused animals) are thinking.

Why? Just to know that they are thinking.

Rub my belly, watch me smile.

Paul inspired Tim who inspired me to put up three pictures of crazy Annie lying on her back.

I'll take part in any sort of meme that unites cats and dogs in their lovable and huggable silliness.

Dog Tales.

Reading with Rover:

The program pairs companion dogs with kids who may be uncomfortable reading aloud. The dogs provide their rapt attention and the children can read aloud without fear of criticism or interruption.

Could you fabricate a sweeter story?

On a side dog note, Ben and I have been thinking about adopting a rescue Westie. Unfortunately, if we're planning to have children in the next fifteen years, a Westie seems like the wrong sort of dog:

Westies will NOT TOLERATE even unintended mistreatment from a child. They will not put up with typical child handling such as pulling of ears or tails nor will they tolerate taking or "sharing" of the dog's bones, food and toys. They are also very assertive and demanding and can jump on small children.

Despite their cute little faces, I could easily picture a Westie pouncing on a small child. They're ratters -- what do you expect?

Perhaps we'll have to look past our favorite breed and adopt a Golden Retriever, which, I've heard, make the perfect nannies.

Link via spinning-jennie.

Did that poodle say he wanted to take over your soul?

Angry. Angry. Angry. Angry. Angry.
Angry. Hungry. Angry. Angry. Angry.

So that's what Augie has been saying for all these years.

How much do I so want this gadget?

Perhaps we could also decipher what's going on in this dog's (1.3 megs) head. Ben and I got a major kick listening to this track off of Disneyland's complete Pirates of the Caribbean�soundtrack.

c|net link via OliverWillis.com.

Don't make fun of the Aug-man.

I've been trying to reach my mother all day.

My family is very casual about the holidays and since I'm an only child, I don't have to coordinate with any siblings about gifts or activities. I was just going to call her up, wish her a "Happy Mother's Day" and ask if she wanted to go out to lunch.

But she hasn't been home all day. And neither she nor my dad are answering their cell phones.

Aren't parents suppose to live for warm greetings from their children on these oh-so-special days?

So where are they?

Ben suggested that they are out celebrating Mother's Day with the dogs. The dogs, or rather their dog Augie, is the apple of my mother's eye.

Saying I'm an only child isn't quite accurate when considering my mom's attachment to her pets. Augie is the prince of the household, a neurotic dog who, to everyone's amusement is a pretty accurate mirror of my own personality. The family joke is that my mom managed to raise a daughter and a dog with the exact same neuroses.

Augie, like me, has an overwhelming need for justice; if our other dog, Annie, isn't eating her food he will go up to her and bark in her face. Augie is half sheltie -- half gestapo. If anyone isn't behaving in the manner prescribed by the authorities (my mom), he'll let them know.

Part of Augie's charm, though, is his peculiar insecurities. If my mom puts a canine-size hat on him he'll go in the corner and put his head down in embarrassment. Sometimes he'll leave the room because he "thinks" people are making fun of him. At least, that's the explanation my mom gives.

I guess part of the problem is that Augie has a hat in the first place.

Back to Mother's Day.

When I finally get a hold of my mother, I'm sure she'll tell me that Augie, like some sibling who always has the upper-hand, wondered why I hadn't called earlier.