"What makes an elephant charge his tusk
in the misty mist or the dusky dusk?
Courage."
I spotted a crawdad in the creek today and it looked lively and large. I reached down with my bare hands and grabbed it by the middle and picked it up out of the water. Bare hands. Grabbing a huge insecty thing that is known to pinch and not let go. I did that. Me. Aw yeah.
"What makes a Hottentot so hot?
What puts the "ape" in apricot?
Whadda they got that I ain't got?
Courage."
And then it wiggled, so I dropped it and probably eeked. Banzai was watching. I was so ashamed.
We found his favorite hubcap floating in the water a few minutes later, though, and I picked it up and we swam to the other side of the creek and set it in the spot where we usually heave up out of the water at the end of our swimmins. It's too rounded on the outside to be any use as a food or water bowl, but I figured he'd be happy to have one of the neat things we find in the water at home to play with.
In the spot where Banzai's frenemy died yesterday, I saw another crawdad. I've only ever seen the one in that spot, so I figured with the one gone, it was a crawdad-free spot in the creek. Nope. Now I'm wondering if Banzai's frenemy is the one I saw scooting away from that spot today and it killed the other one yesterday, or vice versa. I am tempted to get some quick-set glue and a net and some small numbers or googly eyes or something and decorate up the crawdads so I can tell them apart, but that's such a human-centric thing to do. They can tell each other apart. Perhaps they cherish their anonymity vis a vis humans and dogs and ducks and geese. Then again, perhaps they've had this ineffable wish for something more, like a tutu to appear out of that place outside of the water and be permanently attached to their exoskeleton. Discuss.
We did the full hike upstream. I was standing in the water to empty the sand out of my shoes when I spotted a little crawdad (with no identifying marks or accessories that I could discern) peeking out at me from between a couple of rocks in the water. I could only see its face and claws at first. Once Banzai was out of the water and sediment settled, I could see the whole thing. It took me a couple of tries, but I scooped it up in my extremely courageous bare hands and flipped it out of the water onto a rock before it had a chance to flip over in my hand and grab. Banzai was on it in a hot second and crunched its head and right claw clean off. Its tail and left claw were still wiggling in the sand. I picked those pieces up and he ate them, too. I felt a little bad about destroying a tiny life just to entertain Mama's Lil Fucker, but I got over my tree-hugger guilt pretty fast. I earned my Badge of Courage, dammit.
We walked partway back on the bike path, got in again and splashed the rest of the way back to where the hubcap was stashed. Banzai's all kinds of happy to have it at home now. That thing is loud when it's clattering around on the floor! He also has the most godawful crawdad breath, 10 hours later.
I cannot freakin wait til my new water shoes get in.
In Wilbur Town news, he got to go to the studio and to a friend's theater last night. He helped supervise some much-needed organization and cleaning at the dungeon, and he got to watch part of Halloween and all of Halloween II at the friend's theater, as well as getting fussed over by people who weren't expecting there to be a dog at a horror movie. A couple of people expressed concern that he might be upset near the beginning of the first movie when something scary happens to a dog, but I assured them that I spend a lot of time desensitizing him so that things in movies aren't such a shock.
We had to duck out in the middle of the first movie to go meet my sister and her friend at The Crypt so I could help them pick out Halloween costumes. I told her that I didn't appreciate her appropriating my leather culture for the sake of a holiday dedicated to dressing up. I felt cheapened. I may have let out a little sob. She told me to get the fuck over myself while her gf snickered behind her hand. I said OK and then I taught her and her girlfriend how to get in and out of corsets and how imperative it is to put your shoes and pretty much everything else on before you lace up. She didn't believe me til she got into a Stormy Leather off-the-shoulder number and then tried to put on a skirt. Yeah, uh huh, don't listen to the person with FOURTEEN YEARS OF EXPERIENCE WITH THIS SHIT. She admitted that I was right and she should have listened. Really, that's all I ever want out of life.
She also wanted to try on an underbust corset. When I told her that she'd need a separate top to wear with it, she argued with me. She was quite certain that the corset would cover her nipples. I, having ::cough:: FOURTEEN YEARS OF EXPERIENCE WITH THIS SHIT, demurred. She wanted to keep arguing. The clerk (who I love to pieces) was watching. I said, "You're right. that's exactly the corset you should get. You don't need anything to go under it at all. I'm sure it'll be just fine. It'll look fantastic. It'll go with everything!" I smiled pleasantly. I knew that the second she moved her arms anywhere away from waist level, her tits would come popping out of that mofo like jacks in the box, and it'd be right in the middle of a club. The clerk knew it, too, but he wasn't saying anything if I wasn't going to. Her eyes narrowed. I kept smiling blandly. She could tell that if I was just going to agree with her like that, it must be because I knew the consequences were going to be MUCH more entertaining for me and no fun at all for her, so she wisely decided to try something else on. The clerk high-fived me when she turned to go to the changing booth. Winnah!
On the way back to the theater, Wilbur and I got french fries (for him) and a salad (for me) and some ice cream (for our friend with the theater) and went back just in time to see Halloween 2 starting. He was a little confused about theater seating and the risers were a little slippery on his dry old paws, but having all new people calling his name and fussing over him made it all worthwhile. When the movie was over, he was all on fire to get going. I asked him if he wanted to go give Banzai a hug and kiss and he gave his "hell yeah" headshake. I suspected insincerity, because he's good at telling me what I want to hear if it means getting a little closer to whatever his goal is. Yeah, sure, fine, kiss and hug Banzai, yeah, just get in the fucking car, lady.
Courage."
I spotted a crawdad in the creek today and it looked lively and large. I reached down with my bare hands and grabbed it by the middle and picked it up out of the water. Bare hands. Grabbing a huge insecty thing that is known to pinch and not let go. I did that. Me. Aw yeah.
"What makes a Hottentot so hot?
What puts the "ape" in apricot?
Whadda they got that I ain't got?
Courage."
And then it wiggled, so I dropped it and probably eeked. Banzai was watching. I was so ashamed.
We found his favorite hubcap floating in the water a few minutes later, though, and I picked it up and we swam to the other side of the creek and set it in the spot where we usually heave up out of the water at the end of our swimmins. It's too rounded on the outside to be any use as a food or water bowl, but I figured he'd be happy to have one of the neat things we find in the water at home to play with.
In the spot where Banzai's frenemy died yesterday, I saw another crawdad. I've only ever seen the one in that spot, so I figured with the one gone, it was a crawdad-free spot in the creek. Nope. Now I'm wondering if Banzai's frenemy is the one I saw scooting away from that spot today and it killed the other one yesterday, or vice versa. I am tempted to get some quick-set glue and a net and some small numbers or googly eyes or something and decorate up the crawdads so I can tell them apart, but that's such a human-centric thing to do. They can tell each other apart. Perhaps they cherish their anonymity vis a vis humans and dogs and ducks and geese. Then again, perhaps they've had this ineffable wish for something more, like a tutu to appear out of that place outside of the water and be permanently attached to their exoskeleton. Discuss.
We did the full hike upstream. I was standing in the water to empty the sand out of my shoes when I spotted a little crawdad (with no identifying marks or accessories that I could discern) peeking out at me from between a couple of rocks in the water. I could only see its face and claws at first. Once Banzai was out of the water and sediment settled, I could see the whole thing. It took me a couple of tries, but I scooped it up in my extremely courageous bare hands and flipped it out of the water onto a rock before it had a chance to flip over in my hand and grab. Banzai was on it in a hot second and crunched its head and right claw clean off. Its tail and left claw were still wiggling in the sand. I picked those pieces up and he ate them, too. I felt a little bad about destroying a tiny life just to entertain Mama's Lil Fucker, but I got over my tree-hugger guilt pretty fast. I earned my Badge of Courage, dammit.
We walked partway back on the bike path, got in again and splashed the rest of the way back to where the hubcap was stashed. Banzai's all kinds of happy to have it at home now. That thing is loud when it's clattering around on the floor! He also has the most godawful crawdad breath, 10 hours later.
I cannot freakin wait til my new water shoes get in.
In Wilbur Town news, he got to go to the studio and to a friend's theater last night. He helped supervise some much-needed organization and cleaning at the dungeon, and he got to watch part of Halloween and all of Halloween II at the friend's theater, as well as getting fussed over by people who weren't expecting there to be a dog at a horror movie. A couple of people expressed concern that he might be upset near the beginning of the first movie when something scary happens to a dog, but I assured them that I spend a lot of time desensitizing him so that things in movies aren't such a shock.
We had to duck out in the middle of the first movie to go meet my sister and her friend at The Crypt so I could help them pick out Halloween costumes. I told her that I didn't appreciate her appropriating my leather culture for the sake of a holiday dedicated to dressing up. I felt cheapened. I may have let out a little sob. She told me to get the fuck over myself while her gf snickered behind her hand. I said OK and then I taught her and her girlfriend how to get in and out of corsets and how imperative it is to put your shoes and pretty much everything else on before you lace up. She didn't believe me til she got into a Stormy Leather off-the-shoulder number and then tried to put on a skirt. Yeah, uh huh, don't listen to the person with FOURTEEN YEARS OF EXPERIENCE WITH THIS SHIT. She admitted that I was right and she should have listened. Really, that's all I ever want out of life.
She also wanted to try on an underbust corset. When I told her that she'd need a separate top to wear with it, she argued with me. She was quite certain that the corset would cover her nipples. I, having ::cough:: FOURTEEN YEARS OF EXPERIENCE WITH THIS SHIT, demurred. She wanted to keep arguing. The clerk (who I love to pieces) was watching. I said, "You're right. that's exactly the corset you should get. You don't need anything to go under it at all. I'm sure it'll be just fine. It'll look fantastic. It'll go with everything!" I smiled pleasantly. I knew that the second she moved her arms anywhere away from waist level, her tits would come popping out of that mofo like jacks in the box, and it'd be right in the middle of a club. The clerk knew it, too, but he wasn't saying anything if I wasn't going to. Her eyes narrowed. I kept smiling blandly. She could tell that if I was just going to agree with her like that, it must be because I knew the consequences were going to be MUCH more entertaining for me and no fun at all for her, so she wisely decided to try something else on. The clerk high-fived me when she turned to go to the changing booth. Winnah!
On the way back to the theater, Wilbur and I got french fries (for him) and a salad (for me) and some ice cream (for our friend with the theater) and went back just in time to see Halloween 2 starting. He was a little confused about theater seating and the risers were a little slippery on his dry old paws, but having all new people calling his name and fussing over him made it all worthwhile. When the movie was over, he was all on fire to get going. I asked him if he wanted to go give Banzai a hug and kiss and he gave his "hell yeah" headshake. I suspected insincerity, because he's good at telling me what I want to hear if it means getting a little closer to whatever his goal is. Yeah, sure, fine, kiss and hug Banzai, yeah, just get in the fucking car, lady.