Inspired by thin cows in India wandering, forelorn and abandoned, along road sides and their fat and milked counterparts in Europe, my poor brain has now had an avalanche of various takes on the subject.
Here is one, of human interest:
If a fairy came along (or the devil) and gave you a choice which animal would you like to be? And why?
And if you, Ramana, come back to me and say “a frog” it won’t work. I don’t kiss frogs*. Prince or no prince.
U
* I hope this reference to a particular fairy tale is not lost in translation
Bitch on the Blog 
A dog, of course One with humans who would buy me my own car.
Let’s see if the picture works:
Comment by Cheerful Monk — January 5, 2010 @ 19:44 |
Nope, the picture didn’t work. It’s of my granddogs enjoying their new car. It’s in the post.
Honda came out with a dog-friendly package (http://automobiles.honda.com/element/dog-accessories.aspx) right after Kaitlin and Torben bought the car, but they already had bought the important things, the fan, water bowl, etc.
I would rather be a pampered dog in the U.S. than a starving cow in India.
Comment by Cheerful Monk — January 5, 2010 @ 19:49 |
Jean, the trouble with being a dog, a house cat or a goldfish is that you are entirely dependent on the goodness of your owner for your welfare. Pot luck I’d say.
I remember once waiting for someone in the huge lobby of a hotel in Athens when this guy walked in with an alsation on the leash. The guy was a complete bastard with the dog. It was heartbreaking to watch that animal. Although plenty of people milling about, naturally, it was yours truly who had a most interesting multilingual exchange with this man. Luckily Greeks don’t tend to hit women in public so I was ok. And the concierge was on standby.
Why doesn’t your choice surprise me? Judging by the size of your own dogs I dare say you’d prefer not to be turned into one of those tiny New York handbag dogs complete with designer wardrobe.
I am sure you’d make a loyal companion to your lucky owner; only snarling at intruders when all friendly options are exhausted.
U
Comment by bitchontheblog — January 5, 2010 @ 20:52 |
I would say I’d be a golden retriever, wagging my tail like mad, but when I drew a picture of my self-image last year this is what I ended up with.
Comment by Cheerful Monk — January 5, 2010 @ 22:31 |
Back to fleas. When I was little at bedtime my folks would always say, ” Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the fleas bite.” Has anyone else heard that? When I got older I found out more people said bedbugs than fleas.
Apparently with all the traveling going on now bedbugs are a bigger problem than fleas.
Comment by Cheerful Monk — January 5, 2010 @ 19:52 |
Well, Jean, you’ve really upped the stakes now: Bedbugs???????????? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. That’s IT: I am not going to bed tonight and, in future, shall avoid booking a room at the Ritz. I was under the illusion bed bugs had died out with Louis XIV (quatorze). Can you imagine what wildlife the wigs they wore at court must have harboured? I can’t bear the thought of it.
Since the horrors are getting worse: What about those clawed miniature beasts in your bedding which you can only see under a microscope? Have forgotten their name for the moment. They inhabit your duvet, mattress and pillows in their millions. Dust mites. I am so glad they are invisible and that I tend to forget about them most of the time. However, looking at it from another point of view they make ideal pets: Not seen, not heard, no vet’s bills, no walkies, NO FLEAS! and easy to feed.
And yes, I do know that rhyme from somewhere; probably some Charles Dickens novel. Oh, Jean, I am itching all over again. Thanks.
U
Comment by bitchontheblog — January 5, 2010 @ 20:32 |
I hate to tell you this, but we have all sorts of microscopic organisms living on us and consuming our detritus. I’ve seen pictures of them but decided to banish them from my memory (until they popped up now). I’m back to serious banishing before I go to bed tonight, otherwise they will haunt my dreams.
Then there are the intestinal bacteria that we couldn’t live without. I’ll keep them as pets.
Comment by Cheerful Monk — January 5, 2010 @ 22:38 |
Intestinal bacteria as pets, Jean? You are more minimalistic than I am. I don’t mind them since they obviously keep one ‘constitutional’, skin bright and eyes sparkling.
To keep our conversation on that rather unfortunate road we started: A few days ago I read about a type of long worm which digs itself into the veins of one’s legs and, when bored, eventually aimlessly wanders around the rest of your body. The gore of it is fascinating – I think India (and possibly Africa) is the breeding ground. Whilst trying to get your head round the fact that you have been invaded like Poland in the second world war your veins will be opened up and the worms pulled out one by one with something like a crochet hook. This has to be done very slowly because if the worms break they are likely to infect your leg which might result in gangrene in turn leading to amputation. I reached for my smelling salts as not to faint at the very thought of it.
U
Comment by bitchontheblog — January 6, 2010 @ 00:56 |
I’ve been watching the TV Series ER, which occasionally has gory things like that. Although House, M.D, tended to have the more exotic things. Between the two of them I’ve bored with intubating people and shocking their hearts back to life. Thank goodness for the fast forward button.
Comment by Cheerful Monk — January 6, 2010 @ 02:10 |