I'm overloaded with cuteness right now from watching the TV show "Project Runway" of all things! All the designers had to design coordinating outfits for a model and a dog. Most of the dogs were little poofy fluffy things like poodles and pomeranians, but one of the dogs was a corgi! And, of course, the cool, cutting edge, tattooed designer chose the corgi. No surprise there, because corgis are cool.
The corgi kind of flubbed his walk down the runway, though. He kept trying to rub his side on the ground to get his outfit off. What can I say? They're very willful. Besides, they're tough little cow-herding dogs, not shi-shi fashionista dogs.
I know I have been lax in providing corgi pictures lately. My husband is hogging the camera. It's always in his car or at work or something. But if you are desparately in need of a corgi fix, check out this picture -- that's not my corgi but it is one of my favorite corgi pictures on the internet. I love that the hurdle he is jumping is only about six inches off the ground.
And this is my favorite picture of my corgi. I'll put up more at some point, I promise.
He and his daddy and I just got back from the vet.* I am happy to report that he was given a clean bill of health. I was nervous about his weight (34.2 pounds) but the doctor said that is a perfectly healthy weight as long as he doesn't gain any more. Usually I shave a couple pounds off the weight when I report it to the receptionist after weighing our corg in the lobby, but my husband insisted that we tell the truth this time.
The doctor also said that my corgi has the strongest back legs he is ever seen on a corgi. (Picture me beaming proudly.) The doctor said he is a "sturdy dog," which is exactly what another doctor said several years a when my corgi had to go in for an emergency consultation after eating a piece of a string that made him very sick. ("I'm not worried about this sturdy little fellow.")
*NOTE: Yeah, I'm one of those cutesie people who thinks my pet is like a kid. I am "mommy" and my husband is "daddy." Rest assured that this is the only area of my life where I indulge in being cutesie. Got it?
I only have a few blogging minutes available today, so I am going to cheat and rely on quotation blogging a day early (see previous post) and a collie photo.
I have been out and about this morning enjoying the glorious springtime weather and then I was planted for a while in front of my TV set catching up on each day's installment of "The Daily Show" from the last two weeks. (If I weren't happily married, I think I would be in love with Jon Stewart.) Next we're off to our nephew's baseball game (yes, I am basically a soccer aunt and spend quite a bit of my spare time at little kid sporting events) and then the mandatory parental dinner dedicated to the celebration of my birthday and full analysis of my biological clock (as well as, per the reader suggestions below, my father's prostate and possible Viagra usage).
I hope we can race home in time to watch one of the DVDs my husband got me. He has showered me with DVDs-- months of viewing pleasure to look forward to -- including, at long last, the Colin Firth version of Pride & Prejudice, which I have never seen. I guess husband got the hint after all the carrying on I did last week about Mr. Darcy.
While I can't imagine any of this is even remotely interesting to anyone, I hope this collie photo will keep you coming back. I originally posted this pic at Scheherazade's site for her on-line birthday party, which Happy Feminist readers Richard Ames and chipmunk also attended. That's me with my parents' collie; we have a very close relationship because I was her primary caretaker for several weeks when she was a puppy. You can click on the photo to enlarge.
Relationships are indeed full of surprises. Last night, my husband, heretofore a jeans and a t-shirt kind of guy, walked in the door bearing shopping bags full of -- corduroy trousers. Red, green, and brown. And the brown ones have little Scottie dogs all over them.
Fiercesome though he may appear, my corgi is actually afraid of many things, including:
-- The wind
-- The car wash
-- The vacuum cleaner
-- semi-closed doors
-- sliding closet doors, even if they're closed
-- kitchen counters
--our four foot tall felt Santa on a wooden frame
I have a busy day ahead of me as I try to wrap things up before the long weekend. (For my overseas readers, Monday is a holiday here in the U.S. in honor of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln.)
First thing this morning, I have to pump out some answers to court pleadings filed by a "pro se" plaintiff. "Pro se" (pronounced "pro say") means "for himself" and refers to litigants who are representing themselves rather than having a lawyer represent them. We usually call them pro ses for short. There are occasionally pro ses who do a good job on their own behalf, but mostly they are what we call in the biz "batshit crazy." Most of my pro ses are prison inmates who have nothing better to do than file lawsuits and write voluminous motions to the court. These usually require very brief responses to the effect that "this makes no sense" but sometimes the pleadings make enough sense that you have to do a more substantive response.
At the moment, I am dealing with a fifty page pleading in various fonts (at some point it seems to be 18 point font, at other points 14, at other points 12) littered with invective ("What are you smoking, counselor?") and even threats of physical violence. I wish I could quote the choicest bits here but that probably wouldn't be appropriate. Suffice it to say that I have to spend some time this morning reading this thing and then figuring out how best to respond. Sigh.
Meanwhile, to tide you over until the weekend, I offer you this terrifying image (click on the image to enlarge -- if you dare):
I am all out of corgi pictures on my computer at the moment, so I thought I would share some old collie pictures instead. This is my parents' collie, but I have a special bond with her. You see, I lived with my parents for about six weeks right before law school when their collie was still just a puppy. I was her primary caretaker during that period. She seems to still remember and appreciate me, even though I don't see her so often anymore. As Odysseus learned in the Odyssey, when you take care of a dog, the dog will always love you even if twenty years go by.
Anyway here are some old, old photographs from my loving collie's puppyhood and adolescence. Click on them to enlarge:
In other news, my husband and I had a lovely time watching "The Constant Gardener" starring the compelling Rachel Weisz and the yummy Ralph Fiennes. I have always loved John Le Carre (who wrote the novel and the screenplay) and now I love him even more. I loved that the book was set in Kenya, one of my favorite places on the planet. In fact, the movie was filmed on location in Kenya, and many of the scenes were filmed in an actual Nairobi slum called Kibera. (I find there are all too few movies set in Africa, and since I doubt I will have occasion to travel there again in the foreseeable future, I long for books and movies that evoke a sense of Africa.) I loved that there was not one moment in the movie to jar one's feminist sensibilities. I loved that I was sniffling and crying during the last three scenes. Go. Watch. This. Movie.