Tuesday, November 29, 2005
About Me
- Name: Aunt B
- Location: Nashville, Tennessee, United States
Like Donnell Alexander says, "It's about completing the task of living with enough spontaneity to splurge some of it on bystanders, to share with others working through their own travails a little of your bonus life." But, it's mostly the kind of place that folks looking for "girls and cars" stumble across by accident.
I'VE MOVED. COME CHECK OUT THE MOST RECENT STUFF HERE.
WHERE TO DIRECT YOUR HATE MAIL AND LOVE LETTERS
ALL PROCEEDS GO TO BEER
THINGS I SAID RECENTLY
- Just What Kind of Feminist Are You?
- A Crossroads Like No Other
- The Bay Area Is Not Talking
- The International Harvester Dude
- The Butcher is an Idiot
- Mrs. Wigglebottom Saves the Day
- Grouch
- Bitching About the Bitchin' Camaro
- Thanksgiving in the Alternate Universe
- "Why Did You Let Them Talk to the Parent with No M...
THE CAST OF CHARACTERS
Aunt B.--Your kind host.The Butcher--My youngest brother, who lives with me and works as, you guessed it, a butcher. He knows everyone in town.
The Recalcitrant Brother--Our middle brother, who lives in rural Georgia and has a kind of movie star life, if that movie star is Burt Reynolds in Deliverance.
The Reverend--Our Dad, a Methodist minister, perpetually three years from retirement.
Mom--Our Mom. She doesn't get a funny nickname because our mom will not stand for funny nicknames.
Mrs. Wigglebottom--My dog. She's got terrible manners.
The Corporate Shill--Or The Shill, as we call her. My friend from college who was constantly getting me into trouble and going to parties she neglected to tell me about where cute boys would ask her "Where's Aunt B.?"
The Legal Eagle--The Shill's husband.
The Super Genius--She lived next door to me my freshman year of college and we've been friends ever since my first day on the floor.
Miss J.--My first adult friend, meaning the first lasting friendship I made after college. She was my roommate in grad school.
Her Lover--Her Husband.
The Divine Ms. B.--Miss J.'s sister and one of my heroes, because she's brave and funny and mystic and fearless.
JR--My oldest friend. I've known her since I was in the second grade.
Elias--JR's husband and the person who's musical tastes have most strongly affected my own. Oh, how I long to be cooler than him!
The Professor--My closest friend here in Nashville. She's a genius, but she'll never tell you that.
The Man from GM--I've known him since I was 16 and he still hasn't forgiven me for telling him I was a vegetarian when I wasn't.
The Redheaded Kid--No one knows where he comes from or where he goes when he leaves here. I assume he's the Butcher's friend. The Butcher assumes he's mine.
7 Comments:
That's so freaky. I just sat down with my cup of hot apple cider, after just getting back from the park with Zachary. I wouldn't take him more than about a 1/4 mile round trip. I'm a smothering father. I followed behind him with a flashlight, trying to see if he was showing any signs of a limp. I swear he started to shift his weight ever so slightly by the end of it, but only when he was trotting. If he walked, he was ok. He tried to run a couple times but I yelled for him to slow down. No leash again. There are never people at the park after dark.
You know, these tender little tales you tell about your dog are going to ruin your reputation as a heartless throwback to the dark ages.
Unfortunately, after he laid on the floor for an hour or so, he got up with a pretty bad limp. I ran out of his meds on Friday and I wanted to see how he'd do without them. He was fine up until then.
I gave him one of mine, hidden in a piece of bread. He inhaled the piece of bread, then a moment later: Patooy!; he spit out the pill. Bastard. I had to fall back to an old standby, since now he's on his guard for the pill. I melted the pill into the center of a piece of cheese. Works every time.
Oh, that poor boy! When Mrs. Wigglebottom hurt herself in a tragic cat-chasing incident, I sat on the couch with her and kept the paw on ice. I don't think she liked the ice, but she loved being doted on.
Luckily, she's never needed any kind of medication. So, I don't know how she'd be.
But you are a dog genius. Any advice for how to trim a pitbull's nails? She needs it and I hate it. I'm wondering if I can't just file them.
If you walk your dog regularly on pavement, the pavement will files them down.
One would think.
That seems to work on the back feet just fine. But her front nails are ungodly. And we walk on pavement pretty exclusively.
And, she likes to pet me.
Believe me, there's little more disconcerting than waking up to a dog scraping her dry pads and long nails across your face. (Ha, my dog is such a freak!)
Which brings me to another question. Can you lotion dogs' feet or no?
And is there any way to keep her from jumping on new people?
And the farts... my god, the farts...
Okay, I'm going to pull it together here. I just sometimes feel like such a bad dog owner. There should be a clear hierarchy between person and pet, but we don't really have one.
I mean, your dog comes when you call him. How jealous am I? My dog comes when she thinks you have food or might take her for a car ride. Otherwise, she's got her own shit going on and can't be bothered.
Yes, you can put lotion on a dog's feet, but remember that she needs to walk ono them on pavement, so you don't want them too delicate.
Keeping her from jumping requires training, so count that out.
Buttermilk cures gas, and the dogs love it. In the milk section of your grocery.
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