Take that, cat lovers. Scientists delve deeper into the inextricable links between humans and dogs. But, if this is true, why can’t I convince Berkeley to stop chewing the comforter?
Category: Hounds
Music soothes the savage Berk.
No, according to these guys, it really does. There’s no question Berkeley‘s a lot more docile with “The Breaking of the Fellowship” on or somesuch. And when “Where’s Your Head at?” is blaring, he knows it’s time to jump up and down and run around in circles. (Via Follow Me Here.)
Dog Confessional.
In a Work Hole.
Hey y’all. Updates have been intermittent this past week due to my catching up with all the work I was supposed to be doing while I was in Hawaii, meaning very long days fashioning history powerpoint slides for a textbook company. Now that that task’s finished, I need to get back to my primary research work, reading through and organizing the papers of Henry Luce and his contemporaries for a professor. At any rate, it’s going to be busy around here right up until the start of term, so I apologize if the updates get more sparse than usual. In happier news, regarding the burning of my feet (mentioned here last week), today was the first day since said burning that it didn’t hurt to put on my shoes…although Berkeley stepping on said shoe immediately thereafter was not a happy experience.
Don’t sleep on the Berk.
A new study finds dogs have higher language and math skills than you’d think.
What’s that, boy? Timmy got soaked in a rainstorm?
So Berk and I went to the dog park as usual this sweltering morning and, not five minutes after we get there, he starts whimpering and pawing at the gate – something I’ve never seen him do before. So we leave, and he basically drags me home at a full clip the whole ten minutes. Just as we get to the doorstep, the sky splits open and a wicked thunderstorm emerges right on top of us. Vast sheets of rain and thunder so nearby I’m expecting a power outage any minute. It’s nice sometimes to have a PreCog dog.
A Dad’s Best Friend.
Turns out Dubya talks more about his dogs these days than he does his daughters. Hmmm…maybe it’s because his dogs don’t get blitzed every weekend, and because they don’t seem to mind when he, ahem, “chokes on a pretzel” during an afternoon football game. As a prof of mine noted, any dog owner’ll tell you that if your dogs don’t freak out when you suddenly hit the ground, they’re just used to seeing you pass out in strange places.
WWB…Walking While Black.
A councilwoman alleges canine racial profiling. Fortunately, Berk doesn’t have this problem, but it’s not as far-fetched as the detractors suggest. I’ve seen and heard about a number of dogs with these racial tics, particularly (and unsurprisingly) down south.
Hail to Seamus.
The Clintons get a new dog.
Cry havoc…
and let slip the dogs of war. The campaign for a national memorial to commemorate canines gains steam. (All links via Breaching the Web.)