SUMMARY: Musicals, yardwork, lyrics, bad dogs, dead animals.
If you've seen my posts on facebook, you know most of this already. But not all.
MusicalsStarted chatting about musicals with friends. My initial comment on Facebook: "Maybe I'm not the best person to be a critic of Tony award-winning musicals. Here's my synopsis of Cats, near as I can tell: "I'm a cat." "I'm another cat." "I'm another cat." "I'm another cat." (Repeat until they run out of cats.) And this was the longest-running Broadway and London musical in history? I obviously didn't take the right drugs."
I got to that observation because I just saw Spring Awakening at San Jose Repertory Theater, to which I say, "all the reviews seem to be raving about how great it. I actually enjoyed most of it--the actors were really good at singing & dancing & acting, clicked well together, the choreography I really liked, the staging was very clever. But. "Let's toss in a bunch of bits about gays, child abuse, tough schools, unfair teachers, unsympathetic parents, teen suicide, illegal abortions, teen sex obsession, and maybe prostitution although that's not entirely clear--most of which isn't tied together in any clear way at all, and end it with a cheery song about hope for the future." Whaaaaat?"
I tell you all that to tell you this:
The ensuing 51-comment discussion on facebook included my note that I liked Jesus Christ Superstar and even went up to SF to see the touring production.
Too much dog hairAnd I tell you THAT to tell you THIS: As a result, I've had JC Superstar music turning into varied ear worms for several days now, which ends up coming out of my mouth while doing mindless chores, most notably "Try Not To Get Worried--" wherein Mary Magdalene sings,
"Sleep and I shall soothe you, calm you and anoint you, fur for your hot forehead..."And then I have to stop raking old rotting lemons and stop and think for a moment, because I know that's not right... oh, right, myrrh for your hot forehead...
Dang SquirrelsSo I'm sitting at the kitchen table, having a nice cold drink to cool off after raking old rotting lemons and tossing them into the compost bin, when I become aware that Boost is just sitting there looking at me, dangling one of those cute fake squirrel toys from her jaws. Except...I have to stop and think for a moment, because...oh, right, we don't have any fake squirrel toys.
I tell her calmly to take it back outside, which she does, and she sets it down. I tell her to come back in, but she picks it up again, so I tell her to leave it [and various other dog-human verbal and nonverbal communications] getting to where she decides that, if she can't bring it into the house, she might as well eat it right now, so starts scarfing down the whole thing. Human Mom then yells things including "No!" and "Drop it!" and "Come!" and "OH MY GOD DON"T EAT THAT!" and more "Come!"s getting louder and more urgent, but the border collie is scampering away, scarfing faster and faster until it's gone.
Human Mom thinks of all the reasons the squirrel could've been dead: Rabies. Rat poison. ... Well, OK, thinks of 2 reasons of why the squirrel could've been dead, but isn't thrilled to think about them. Plus a bunch of small sharp bones puncturing intestines and things. Ever have a friend's dog die from something like that? I have.
OK, my solution is to ignore it and assume everything will be OK unless I start seeing Symptoms.
To Shoot Or Not To ShootI almost went back into the house to grab the camera so I could show you all a photo of Boost with a cute fake squirrel that wasn't fake dangling from her jaws, but that's when she started consuming mass quantities, so you're out of luck. Or in luck, in which case you can thank Boost for that.
Instead, I'll show you the photo I took this morning while picking up trash at Almaden Reservoir, of a Dead Skunk In The Middle Of The Road, Stinking To High Heaven. And the Turkey Vulture scouting out the brunch opportunity.