I’m afraid I have some very sad news to report. A few days ago, while we were out west visiting Arizona and Colorado, our beloved greyhound, Robbie, died unexpectedly and suddenly of bloat. He was two months shy of seven years old.
It happened overnight last Sunday night at the kennel where he was staying. It wasn’t the kennel’s fault; bloat strikes rapidly and without warning, and there was no indication anything was wrong until too late. I got a call early Monday morning giving me the news. I didn’t mention it here on the blog until now because I wanted to wait till I had had time to put together a proper photographic tribute. I’ve now done so; you can view 186 pictures and 12 videos of Robbie, from 2004 through 2008, on Flickr. (Slideshow here.)
The photo gallery traces not just Robbie’s life, but our lives over the last four-plus years: getting our graduate degrees at ASU and Notre Dame, moving in and out of various apartments, and criss-crossing the country by car, from Mesa to South Bend, then to Glendale and back to South Bend, and finally to Knoxville. In each place, we’ve found new places for Robbie to play, from Mesa’s Quail Run dog park, to the tennis court and lawn at South Bend’s Clover Ridge apartments, to Jay & Ashley’s back yard in Loudon, among others.
And of course, geographic changes haven’t been the half of it. Since adopting Robbie from the Arizona Greyhound Rescue in March of ‘04, Becky and I have gotten engaged, married, and had a baby. We’ve both earned graduate degrees, and have gone from being 21- and 22-year-old kids to 26-year-old adults. Oh yeah, and I briefly became a national media sensation — to the point where Robbie himself made the New York Times. :)
Through all these changes, we’ve had our gentle giant — our very own “40 mile-an-hour couch potato” — as a constant presence in our lives. Needless to say, he will be sorely missed.
Much more after the jump.
Andrew Hiller on this story: "It’s time to stop barking, and start listening. An invitation to a national conversation on dog race." Heh.
As the owner of a big, black dog, I am personally offended by the prejudice against said dogs, and I hereby demand that all the presidential candidates immediately and personally reject and denounce the dog-racist sentiments which CNN has bravely shined a light on… and if any candidate does not do so within the next five minutes, I will consider him or her to be presumptively a dog-racist! :P
It is my sad duty to report that Pug, my goldfish, has passed away.
Pug had been showing increasing signs of listlessness in recent days, so it’s probably fair to say that it was “his time.” We think he probably died sometime this morning or early afternoon; he was discovered floating amidst his fake plants this evening when I tried to feed him.
He was given the traditional burial at sea, and afterwards we played Confutatis (from Mozart’s Requiem) in his honor.
Shortly after Pug’s nautical burial, Becky, Loyette and I were walking Robbie on this pleasant spring evening, and we (well, Becky and I, at least) found ourselves musing about what an eventful time in our lives Pug witnessed. When we first got him, way back on May 30, 2007, I was a brand new law-school graduate, just starting to think about the daunting prospect of studying for the bar. Becky, meanwhile, was a mere nine weeks pregnant — and we’d only known that she was pregnant for less than a month. Loyette, for her part, was not quite an inch long, about the size of a grape. Oh yes, and our apartment was still full of unpacked boxes from our big move to Knoxville a mere nine days earlier.
Flash forward to today: Loyette is 3 months old, and a true master at the fine art of grabbing things and putting them in her mouth. Becky’s a mom, and a damn fine one. I’m a dad, an experienced law clerk, and an honest-to-goodness lawyer. (Is that an oxymoron?) Our once box-filled apartment has become a comfy home, as, more broadly, has the once unfamiliar city of Knoxville. And Becky and I are both way more “domestic” than we ever could have imagined back then, having settled very comfortably into our roles as parents.
From inside his watery home, atop the side table next to our couch, Pug saw all these changes in our lives. And he saw them while braving the hungry stares of frustrated cats who could never quite figure out how to pry open that darn tank. Pug may have been a neurotic fish (thanks to those cats), but he was a good fish, and we bid him a fond farewell. Swim in peace, Pug. May you find comfort in that great fishy palace in the
Poor Pug. It must be nerve-wracking, constantly dealing with this:
Trojans r teh suxxors.
After the humiliation of losing to Appalachian State, the Michigan fanatics at MGoBlog turned to kittens to dull the pain of it all. Perhaps it’ll work for my fellow Domers reeling from the Irish’s unprecedented 0-4 start (and the prospect of coming into the Navy game 0-8)? Let’s see:
No? Oh well, it was worth a try.
Goooo Irish, Beeeeeat Boilers. (Please?)
P.S. Perhaps, instead of kittens, we’ll feel better if we think back on happier times? Like, for example…
Ah, those were the days.
Embattled NFL quarterback Michael Vick, facing federal charges related to his alleged participation in dogfighting, has been hit with a “$63,000,000,000 billion dollar” lawsuit filed by a South Carolina inmate who alleges the Atlanta Falcons star stole his pit bulls and sold them on eBay to buy “missiles from Iran,” FOX News has learned.
Jonathan Lee Riches filed the handwritten complaint over “theft and abuse of my animals” on July 23 in the U.S. District Court in Richmond, Va.
Riches alleges that Vick stole two white mixed pit bull dogs from his home in Holiday, Fla., and… goes on to allege that Vick sold the dogs on eBay and Ã¢â‚¬Å“used the proceeds to purchase missiles from the Iran government.Ã¢â‚¬Â
The complaint also alleges that Vick would need those missiles because he pledged allegiance to Al Qaeda in February of this year.
Ã¢â‚¬Å“Michael Vick has to stop physically hurting my feelings and dashing my hopes,Ã¢â‚¬Â Riches writes in the complaint.
Riches wants $63 billion dollars “backed by gold and silver” delivered to the front gates to the Williamsburg Federal Correctional facility in South Carolina. Riches is an inmate at the facility serving out a wire fraud conviction.
I don’t know how many of y’all watch Last Comic Standing, but this is one of my favorite moments from the season so far, and I was very happy to find a YouTube clip of it. The comic is Sabrina Matthews, and although she didn’t make the finals, I loved her joke about suicidal cats… and her quip about her own sexuality:
This photo was taken Monday night, shortly after we returned from Colorado:
Heh. More recently, a photo, taken a few minutes ago, of Sasha hiding under the bed after I accidentally stepped on her foot in the living room:
Moments after taking the picture, I sidled under the bed, cautiously approached her, and pet her for a few minutes. At first, she was obviously mad at me, but eventually she started purring and nuzzling me, and then she got up and walked around in a circle so I could scratch her back more effectively. So we’re friends again. :) And her foot is fine.
Pic is of Becky with London, a weeks-old kitten owned by Kristy & V's friend Caleb. So adorable! We're hanging out at Leela's in downtown Denver, chilling, eating, drinking, and cooing at the kitty. A perfect Thursday evening, if you ask me.
(CBS) SAN FRANCISCO, July 16, 2007 - As tourist attractions go, San Francisco’s wild parrots can be frustratingly unpredictable.
The 200 birds can often be seen swooping near Telegraph Hill, but there is only one place they show up like clockwork. At 5:30 every afternoon, they return to a small park surrounded by high rises, where outstretched hands await, offering sunflower seeds.
…There’s no doubt the parrots are loved. But is feeding them loving them too much Ã¢â‚¬â€ robbing them of the ability to survive on their own.
One bird lover who’s particularly disturbed is Mark Bittner. His book and documentary film, “The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill,” made the birds famous in the first place.
…”My whole thing is to keep them wild, not to make them into like a circus act,” Bittner said.
Bittner’s worries reached City Hall. As of today, public parrot feeding in San Francisco will be banned. Down at the park, that has ruffled plenty of feathers.
“I think law enforcement has better things to do with their time than to be policing a bunch of people trying to feed some birds,” Lori Colburn said…
As should be obvious from the countdown sidebar at left, it’s crunch time for bar prep… and if today’s PMBR practice exam is any indication, I still have quite a bit of “crunching” left to do.
So, at the risk of inviting ridicule vis a vis my tendency to say “blogging will be light” and then ignore my own protestations and continue blogging just as much… blogging will be rather light for the next nine days or so.
Guestbloggers, if you have anything you’ve been saving up for fear of it getting instantly bumped by my hyperactive blogging, now would be the time. :)