A couple of new readers started following my blog recently.
Welcome, Nicola from the North Country: I was born in Staffs, not sure if that makes me a Northerner by birth or not (per your About section), and welcome toi, too, Gamal.
I often like to check my followers’ blogs to scope out what sorts of people find this blog’s mixture of doggie journaling, leftist political venom, geezer philosophizing, and sporadic travel writing appealing.
Gamal’s Welcome to My Walled Garden listed a book — Muslims in the Western Imagination — that caught my attention. I immediately ordered it via the Mechanical Turk; it arrived yesterday; I began reading it without delay.
This is an an excellent book, if your taste runs to high register academia. I particularly recommend Ch. 5, but also enjoyed Arjana’s overall fictive Islamic monster thesis, which is quite well argued.
Speaking of Islamic monsters, I think Bin Laden must be smiling from ear to ear in his watery grave today, as the US descends deeper and deeper into pre-civil war territory.
But I won’t bore you with my take on what long ago already turned into a sooooo predictable daily dickhead grind.
I have other fishes to fry.
The cargo pants I bought to look sharp when we picked up Geneva up two weeks ago are now falling off me. I have lost 8 lbs since her arrival. I only take her out for an hour or two each day right now. The crucial questions are these:
— Will Geneva be my salvation, the one to make me thin again, as I was most of my life?
— Will I finally return to being that handsome hombre of yore?
I’m afraid so.
My wife is getting more than a little fed up being nipped and bitten in the feet all the time; I told her to get some wellies for use indoors and out. Might look a bit daft in Florida, but they would stop the laceration. It’s important she do something.
Geneva’s biting is (almost) no longer a problem for me: but then again, I am putting in a great deal of time training her with regards to the nips.
How am I getting this wild child to stop biting me, you ask?
Well, first there;s the big man stern voice thing that makes her understand NO means NO and who’s in charge around here.
Second, I will not hesitate to use my secret weapon, yes, a water gun, when necessary.
Third, Geneva’s no dummy. She’s not, as the song goes, a girl who misses much. She immediately noticed and silently alerted me as to the red-tailed hawk circling above us when I let her romp on her own in an open field earlier today. She reads facial expressions and body language too. You need to project firmness without anger or cruelty. You go nasty, she’ll give you the full sheppie treatment who doesn’t take shit back — and she still only weighs 10100 lbs in binary notation.
To what end is this firmness?
When it comes to teeth, the end goal is (a) for Geneva to stop nipping at our feet, fingers, etc, and (b) allow us or a vet or a show judge to inspect her mouth completely without incident.
I need to get to the point where I can pull her gums back AND open her mouth while she stays completely calm. I have already opened Geneva’s jaws wide with my bare hands and not suffered any consequences, but would not bet that this would be the case every single time. Also, I’m sure if anyone else at this stage could do this too, but we’ll get there eventually. Am still working on the gums pull back.
For a solid, informed understanding of German Shep puppy and adult teeth, I recommend Louis Donald’s authoritative article on the subject. A frightening section of the paper demonstrates visually the effect of commercial kibble on a dog’s teeth. It is a good thing that Geneva generally does not like kibble; I am going to investigate this further, and perhaps cut kibble out altogether from her diet.
Finally, I have discovered that she absolutely loves dry-frozen chicken liver treats: but if she lunges with her piranhas bared, splat: cold water squirt right in her lovely little facee.
So that’s it for today’s post.
I have to go about my day now, which will consist of reading arcane non fiction in my private library.
It’s the only way I have — short of actual travel — of avoiding the provincial mind death that is a common affliction here in Florida, America’s killing field for the MAGA vultures who feed off the prevailing zombie offal.