“The border collie, a breed known primarily for its herding ability, was able to go to the room with the toys and, seven times out of 10, bring back the one he had not seen before. The dog seemingly understood that because he knew the names of all the other toys, the new one must be the one with the unfamiliar name.” New research suggests that dogs understand language quicker than we think. Duh…You should see how fast Berk learned the menu at KFC/Taco Bell.
Category: Animals
Fab Four.
Today is Berkeley‘s fourth birthday, and, as you can see, there’s much rejoicing in these parts. Well, y’know, dog rejoicing.
Matrix Kev and Bat Berk.
Hope everyone had a happy Halloween. I didn’t go out this year, but did manage to throw together this Matrix-y look for the day. Pretty lame, I know, but most people got what I was going for after it turned dark and I was still wearing the shades. I also tried once again to get Berk to wear the Batman costume I got him a year ago, but he’s still not having it…I suppose that speaks well of his character.
Lost in Translation.
So I finally received the Bowlingual translator that Berk earned a few months ago and…well, as you might expect, it’s a bust. Unless I’ve been wildly misreading Berk’s behavior for years now, the translator appears to be randomly guessing, with the same string of barks eliciting diametrically opposed emotions. In other words, it’s useless, unless you really want to interact with your dog via a Tamagotchi. (Although, to be fair, when I just had to crate Berk for a slew of barks at a dog on the street, the Bowlingual responded, “You just don’t get it.”) That might in fact be true.
Paris to the Dogs.
France’s five-star hotels appeal to canine connoisseurs. There’s zero chance of my taking Berk to Paris anytime soon, although we do occasionally trek to Taco Bell.
Red Skies and Bluegrass.
Hey y’all…busy weekend over here in these parts. Aside from a final orgy of TIME-reading to put an end to my summer research work, I also went to go check out the Creative Time fireworks show, where I spent most of the 4-and-some-odd minutes trying to prevent Berkeley from having a coronary (Lousy judgment on my part bringing him…I thought he might enjoy night in the Park, but he clearly thought he was back on Hill 243.) And I got to see St. Felix Station, my friend’s great bluegrass band over at Pete’s Candy Store in Williamsburg (and was delighted to find said candy store has a weekly trivia night…booyah.)
Less Money, Mo. Problems.
Dubya ventures to the Midwest to hype the jobless recovery in Kansas City, site of 10,000 recent telecom layoffs. Perhaps he’d do better to sell his tax writeoff plan for the wealthy to a swing state it’s actually helped…that is, if he can find one. (In almost completely unrelated news, Doglover Dubya, via High Industrial.)
Start Spreading the News.
Hey y’all…after a massive amount of traveling, bill-paying, and errand-running over the past 48 hours or so, I’m now back home in NYC. While I’m a bit melancholy that three weeks of sun and fun are over, there is something to be said for having Berk at my side and the world at my fingertips again…no more dial-up, booyah. At any rate, I’ll post some vacation pics here once I get all my images organized…in the meantime, expect updates here to resume normal schedule.
Finding your Power Human.
“The idea is to figure out what a dog was born to do — herd, hunt, retrieve, sit decoratively on laps — and find ways to do it.” Slate examines the burgeoning world of dog fulfillment. What Berk was emphatically not born to do was spend three weeks in a kennel, but ah well. These are trying times. He’s been in the joint before…he can handle it. (And, while I’m on the subject of canines, I also enjoyed this self-medicating dog story from Drudge.)
Napoleons rejoice.
Y’know, I’ve been waiting to hear this type of news for years. Apparently coho salmon and quail males also affect an ironic distance and disaffected world-weariness that make them the apple of females’ eyes.