Daisy gets deflowered

A few months ago, the boys brought home two stray dogs. Right after I got home that afternoon, both dogs mysteriously escaped. (Hmmm, I wonder how that happened.)

Fortunately (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) the boys were able to recapture one of the dogs. A few hours later her name became Daisy.

I went to the city animal control people to report the dog as found, Sue and the boys searched the neighborhoods for lost dog signs, and after 30 days sojourning with us, Daisy legally became our property.

So we got all her shots updated, had her examined by a veterinarian, and now she is a member of our family, and a favorite wrestling partner of our cripple dog, Shadow.

Today Daisy went to get spayed. I'll pick her up this afternoon, and I can't wait experience our life as we try to keep Daisy calm as the other dogs try to resume their ongoing wrestling match.

In the spirit of Bob Barker I have to include this parting thought,

"Help control the pet population. Have your pets spay or neutered."

Oh! The Possibilities...

I have learned something vitally important about my city:

Chickens are ALLOWED!

Here is the law:

PART II. Chapter 6. Article IV. Sec. 6-105. Fowl.

(a) Generally. The keeping of fowl such as roosters, ducks, turkeys, geese, peacocks, guineas, or other such loud fowl within the city limits, in any pen, coop or enclosure that is within 150 feet of any residence (other than the owner's), business or school shall be prohibited.

(b) Chickens. No person shall keep more than two hens in an area zoned residential within the city, and shall be no closer than 50 feet to the nearest inhabited dwelling, other than that of the owner.

(c) Secure pen or enclosure. Any fowl kept within the city limits shall be in a secure pen, coop or enclosure, and such structure shall be of such construction and strength to keep such animals from running at large.

(d) Exceptions. Public park lands and lakes shall be exempt from the fowl ordinance, as shall property or acreage annexed into the city after January 1, 1999, for a period of 12 months from adoption of an annexation ordinance.

I can't wait to build my chicken coop.

The Cry of the Urban Chicken Farmer!

In the Wall Street Journal, Some City Folk Are Mad as Wet Hens When Chickens Come Home to Roost.


More chickens. This time in the Wall Street Journal.

Urban chicken farmers, unite!
This is your moment!
Free yourself from the tyrrany of mass produced chickens and eggs!
Loose the chains of the mega supermarkets!

Raise your own chickens!

On a related note, the documentary movie Food, Inc. is now out in theaters. Go watch it!

Happy Breakfast

Breakfast often makes me happy, but this is the first time I've experienced the breakfast itself being happy.

From the keen eye of my youngest son:

For the Birds!

I have brought up the subject in my household, of "urban chicken farming" in the past. I think it would be pretty cool to have a bunch of chickens. The fresh eggs, insect control, free fertilizer and hours of tortuous chores, I mean entertainment, for the boys. Who wouldn't want some chickens? My grandparents raised chickens in their back yard for years and they lived in the city. I even have the perfect place for them in the backyard that's already cordoned off so the dogs can't get them.

It seems I'm not alone in this idea. In the Dallas Morning News this morning, Folks in Dallas, elsewhere hatching plans for backyard chicken farms. I probably have a romanticized view of what it means to be an urban chicken farmer. My image is something like this:

There is NO WAY Sue is going to let me have chickens. Something about how I can't take care of the stuff we already have. She'll point to the garage, or the back yard, or how the kids don't like to clean their rooms, or anything other objection she can raise, related or not. So for now urban chicken farming is just a suprious idea floating around in my head. It probably will never amount to much more than that.

Family Vacation (Blackmail) Videos

These videos need no comment:

LILLY'S LEEK DANCE

SISTER DANCE 1

SISTER DANCE 2

Up and Down; and Upchuck

In an effort to maintain some level of physical effort and not be total slugs, Sue and I formed a compact. We declared that unless we had to carry something of significant weight, we were to walk up and down the stairs to get from the condo to the beach. I agreed to the plan before I knew where the condo was situated. As it happens we’ve been staying in condo number 616.
The sixth floor.

Day One at the beach was not so bad; the energy supported by a certain exuberance that comes naturally when doing something exciting and new allowed me to leap up and down the stairs with a seemingly boundless energy. By the end of the first day I was drained, a little dehydrated, a little bit of sunburn (Did you know that even though one might sit in the shade, it is still possible to receive a sunburn from the mere reflection of the sun off the white sand beaches?), and a little too much beer.

I met the second day with a little less bounce in my step. Every time my foot made contact with the surface below it, I felt the sting of yesterday’s sunburn. Every time I inhaled, I felt the dryness of slight dehydration. With every step, my calf muscles burned from the previous day’s activity. Shortly after lunch, I had to make a trip back up the stairs to the condo. About half way up I vomited just a bit in my mouth. I cursed the stairs. At that moment I resolved that I would only take one more trip up for the rest of the day. We stayed on the beach until dinner time.

It’s Day Three of our beach vacation.

I hate the stairs.