Still Not Related to Lola

It's possible that Lola's Daddy owes me a few dinners...

Powered By Limousines For Rent

A Post That Is Not Related to Lola

Note: Camacho, this post is for you.  While several of my friends will find this funny, I thought that you in particular would get a kick out of it.  So, Internet, if you're annoyed that it's not a Lola post, go beat him up.

Does posting about something other than Lola violate the sacred honor of this blog, this astonishing electronic repository of information, which I nurtured in gestation for nine months before birthing it upon an unsuspecting world?

Okay, that last part might not be accurate.

And anyway, fuck it, it's my blog and I'll do what I want with it.

I recently got a job at a pretty rockin' awesome used bookstore chain, which will remain nameless because I haven't read the employee handbook yet and I don't know if blogging about my job is grounds for being fired (although Texas is an at-will state so they can pretty much fire me any time they want to anyway).  So I won't tell you where I work.  Let's just call it Fifty Percent Literature. 

The other day, I was stocking the Science Fiction/Fantasy section at Fifty Percent Literature.  I kinda like stocking paperbacks in general, and as a Sci/Fan buff I'm always happy when that section needs some work.  A friendly guy with an adorable blonde one-year-old on his shoulders approached me, needing help with a book.  The conversation went like this:

Friendly Guy: Hi, I'm looking for a book, I always look for it when I come in here, a friend recommended it to me, it's a Sci-Fi book, and I just can't remember the author today.

Me: Do you know the title?

Friendly Guy, looking sheepish: No, sorry...  It's older, something by one of the grandfathers of science fiction... Maybe from the fifties or sixties... I don't know, it's usually right around here, you guys keep changing where everything is.

Me, noting that we are in the "C"s: Arthur C. Clarke?

Friendly Guy: Yes!  That's it!

Me, jocularly: Well, as long as it's not 2001 it's all right that you couldn't remember the title.

Friendly Guy, scanning the Clarkes: Actually, no... I don't think this is it...

Me, choosing the "grandfather" next closest to the "C"s: Isaac Asimov?

Friendly Guy: No...

Me: Robert Heinlein?

Friendly Guy:  Yes!  Yes!  Heinlein!

Me, suddenly jubilant: Okay, I can definitely help you there!  I know pretty much everything about Heinlein's books.  Do you, um, have any idea of the title?

Friendly Guy: No, I'm sorry... It's something to do with Blood-Brothers or Water-Brothers...  It's his most famous book.

Me, skeptically: Stranger in a Strange Land?

Friendly Guy: Yes!  Oh my god, that's incredible!

Yeah, no shit!  I thought.  But he was so nice that I couldn't really be annoyed with him.

I may have expressed some slight disapproval of Stranger in a Strange Land as we walked over to the "H"s to get it (thank god we had a copy!), with the end result that I also sold him The Number of the Beast, and told him to get Starship Troopers and Moon is a Harsh Mistress as soon as he has the chance.  He'd never heard of Starship Troopers -- not even the movie, can you believe it?  He made me write them down.  I explained, perhaps a trifle forcefully, that Starship Troopers is one of the best books ever written.

Oh, and don't judge me for picking Number of the Beast.  My other options were Friday, Job, and Sail Beyond the Sunset.  Our Heinlein selection is really thin right now.  

So I took a guy who was saying "I want the famous book that's supposed to be in the Cs!" and got him the actual Heinlein book he was thinking of.  I so totally rock.

Epilogue Number One: When I returned to the Sci-Fi section, another customer who had overheard the whole thing asked if I was really that big a fan of Heinlein, because he had tried Stranger in a Strange Land at the insistence of a Rastafarian friend, and he found it rather dated.  I agreed that it was dated, and yeah maybe kinda crappy, and explained that Heinlein's political philosophy is much more awesome than his free-love-as-religion rant.

Epilogue Number Two: One of my co-workers then came up to me and said, "Wouldn't it be awesome if that guy came back and said to you, 'I totally grok this book'?"

Love

Sometimes when I'm driving my car, and I'm at a stop light, and Lola's sprawled out half-asleep in my lap, I very slowly and very gently stroke her and play with her hair.  And my eyes fill up with tears.

Lola's Brother

Internet, meet Banzai.

Yeah, yeah, it's a crappy picture.  So sue me.  It's harder to take photos of cats.  For starters, they don't respond when you say their name.

Banzai is a three-year-old Bombay with an astonishing lack of personality.  My family has had cats my entire life -- Banzai is my second cat since I've been living on my own -- and I have never known a cat to be so boring.  His only interests in life are food, food, and food.  Also he likes being outside -- not to explore, or to kill baby rabbits, oh no!  No, he just sits there, watching everything.  The toy in the photo above is the only toy he will ever play with, and that's only because it's one of the ones with a little pocket for treats.

I knew, almost as soon as I saw her photo online, that Lola was my dog.  My only concern was how she felt about felines -- because if she hated cats, that would be a deal-breaker.  I needn't have worried.  It's been three weeks now, and they both ignore each other 100%.  Occasionally one of them might sniff the other.  But they pretty much each treat the other like a piece of not particularly interesting furniture that just happens to move around on four legs from time to time.

Recently I've had two problems with Banzai:

1) I have, of course, been feeling incredibly guilty about neglecting Banzai the past few weeks.  It's not that I've been ignoring him.  But he never demands attention or affection, and I've been very busy being enthusiastically ecstatic about Lola.  

2) Now that I have a white dog that doesn't shed, I'm becoming more and more annoyed about having a black cat that does shed.  Stupid hair everywhere.

The solution to both these problems, obviously, is the Furminator.  I can stop the shedding AND spend quality time with the cat!

I've been meaning to get one for a while, but it's difficult to justify spending so much on a cat brush.  But then dooce got one and sang its praises to high heaven.  And if that wasn't enough, Daily Coyote thinks they're fantastic too.  So today, after the visit to the vet, Lola and I stopped off at our local pet store and bought one.  And a cat toy.  And treats.  And a dog toy.  Once I step inside a pet store, all considerations of rational budgeting cease to exist.

Banzai wasn't necessarily thrilled about the whole Furminator experience.  He endured it, and tried to get away about once every sixty seconds, but I'm so much in the Cesar Millan pack-leader mindset that I made him stay with me, made him lie down, and gave him lots of praise.  After all, it looks like it should feel good, so hopefully he'll start to enjoy it.

As far as the shedding goes -- folks, I don't know what to say.  You can find many, many people online, giving such fervent testimonials that you start to think they're spending hours each day sucking the Furminator's cock (supposing it had one).  All I can say is, they're not exaggerating.  You cannot exaggerate about this product.  This is one of the coolest things I have ever seen.

That's what I got after perhaps fifteen minutes, which was as much as Banzai would let me do today.  I love how the undercoat comes out in clumps.  I love how Banzai's undercoat is dark at the roots but goes to almost white at the tips.  I love how soft it is.  

Because I'm me, I immediately ran a google search, which led me to this website.  After all, why should such beautiful fine soft hair just go in the trash?

Lola's Second Bath

I did not get photos of Lola actually in the bath, as I was occupied with actually, you know, bathing her. I'll try to get Lola's Daddy to take photos of the process sometime.

However, once we were both clean and out of the tub, I did get photos of her running about. This proved to be surprisingly difficult.  Here, in order, is every photo I took.  The first is a stunning shot of Lola's ass as she runs away from me.  (I do like how the hair on her tail is moving, though.)

Here is Lola in full-on bedraggled mode.  She has wingy legs.

Again, Lola's ass:

Lola in the middle of a full-on body shake, which I refer to as Helicopter Ears because they flap around her head amusingly:

Here, something went wrong with the photographer.  But if history ever needs documentation of my dirty white flip-flops, my bedspread, and Lola's Squeaky Sheep, it's available.

Here, something went wrong with the camera.

Lola's front half, for once:

All of Lola, in the middle of a very vigorous Helicopter Ears.  This is totally my favorite photo.

This is Lola, after having calmed down a bit.  Note the ever-present bottle of stain remover in the background.

Stain remover, Lola, and dirty flip-flops.

Oh, yeah, and here's what Lola did while I was getting myself clean, before I brought her into the bathroom.  The little minx.

Really Not Sure How She'd Do on an IQ Test

My dog is smart:

Today I took Lola to the vet to see about the chronic diarrhea issue.  I had brought along some poo in a bag (ick), so they didn't have to take a fecal sample, but they did have to take her temperature.  By sticking a thermometer up her butt.  And keeping it there for sixty seconds.  Lola did not enjoy this.  When the vet left to do the analysis, I sat down, and she huddled up against the wall, under my chair.  The vet returned and prescribed some antibiotics, and then it was time to leave.  I crouched down in front of the chair, held my hands palms up, and said, "Lola come," a command which she almost always obeys.  Lola pricked up her ears and looked at me, then immediately swiveled to look at the vet, who was holding the door open.  As if to say, "right, lady, you want me to come out with that bitch still around?"  Clever girl.

My dog is stupid:

I have two little containers attached to the end of Lola's leash, as you can see.

One is a poo-bag dispenser by Bags On Board, so that I can be a responsible pet owner who cleans up after her dog.  The second is a different kind of poo-bag dispenser, where the bottom cap pops off.  Yesterday I had the bright idea to buy this dispenser and store training treats in it.  It's hard to grab treats before we go out, because then Lola sees me get them from the cupboard and is obsessed with having one.  If they were already on the leash, they'd be available, and they'd be up near my hand where she couldn't get at them.  It worked really well at Barton Springs, but then we went to lunch and I tied her leash around the table-leg, and suddenly she realized that this pink thing was the source of the treats, and it was on the ground and accessible to her!  She started chewing at it, so I sighed and took it off the leash and put it in my purse.  Undeterred, she spent the next ten minutes chewing at the Bags On Board container.  It is a different shape, a different color, and a different texture, and also it does not smell like treats because it does not have treats in it.  Nevertheless, she persevered.  Dumbass. 

I Love My Town.

Looks like Austin made the list of Top Ten Most Dog Friendly Cities in America.

Well, duh.

The text of the article says:

Boasting 12 off-leash parks, Austin is a dream come true for both pet owners and the pets themselves.  Whether cooling off in the creek at Bull Creek District Park or taking a tour of the city in a horse-drawn carriage, there are plenty of ways for your dog to enjoy themselves while in Austin.  Plenty of restaurants and stores welcome dogs, so be sure to take them out with you when you're hitting the town and enjoy the sites of this beautiful Texas city with your best four-legged friends.

Now, look, I'm glad Austin made the top ten.  I was going to be very upset if we didn't.  But because I'm a virgo, I do have a few critical thoughts:

1) We were only #10?  Screw that.

2) Bull Creek?  Of all the dog parks in Austin, you mention Bull Creek?  Sure, it's nice and all... but it's small and out of the way, and, well, it's just a creek.  The doggie part of Barton Springs is prettier.

3) Horse-drawn carriages?  Do they let dogs up on those things?  If they do, fine, but I won't use them.  By and large the practice is cruel.  Or at the least, it's mean to keep the horses plodding amongst the cars in the city all day, every day.

And finally, a note about grammar.  If this website actually has editors, they suck.  How about not using "creek" twice in the same sentence?  How about not using "plenty" twice in two sentences?  How about some noun-pronoun agreement?  Either my dog enjoys herself, or my dogs enjoy themselves; my dog does not enjoy themselves.  How about some literacy?  People enjoy sights while traveling.  Only archaeologists enjoy sites.

On second thought, there's no way that website has an editor.

Oh, and one final consideration.  It is worthwhile clicking on the link and scrolling down just to see the appalling photo that is, apparently, representative of Austin's dog culture.  They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and in this case, a thousand words wouldn't come close to describing what's going on here.  All I can say is that this is the only dog in the universe that ought to be in Cats.

But still.  Go Austin!

(UPDATED to add: The lovely people at the TopTenz website left a couple comments to say 1) the last in a top-ten list wins, so Austin is actually #1, and 2) no, there's no editor because it's a website providing interesting, free content, and it's run in someone's spare time.  The comments are really really nice -- go read them! -- and now I feel awful that I totally bashed them in this rant.  In case it wasn't clear, it was all exaggeration for comedic effect, and I'm not actually upset about anything.  Also, I have now learned that if you link to a website, the person who runs that website will notice.  Good to know.)