Bogie and the kitchen garbage

When I left for the gym, I didn't get the door closed completely on the cupboard where I keep the garbage can.  The angle on the doggy cam wasn't good, but it was good enough to prove it was Bogie.

Bored to tears

Sitting here, I wonder, Have I ever truly been "bored to tears"?  Has anyone?

I mean, seriously.  Have you ever been so bored that you cried?  I haven't.

So, being bored, but not in tears, I decided to look up the etymology of the phrase. All I could find was the definition, which I already knew.  Bored to tears means very bored.  Duh!

But doesn't it mean more?  To me it means being very bored and being unable to do anything about it.  It means being in a place you can't escape and without the option of playing games on your smart phone.

It's the futility of the situation that deserves the "to tears" qualification.

Sigh.  I don't do bored well.

I've been "bored silly", resorting to being goofy or making jokes to entertain myself.   Can't say I've ever been "bored stiff".  Quite the opposite actually.  I tend to get fidgety when I'm bored. 

I did find an interesting article from today that said you can truly, truly be "bored to death".  Or at least an earlier death.  http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-1249073/You-really-bored-death-scientists-discover.html

The second paragraph does not bode well for me. "Researchers say that people who complain of boredom are more likely to die young,"  Except that I don't resort to  "such unhealthy habits as smoking or drinking,"

I turn to the Internet.  Which may or may not be more healthy.  But at least it doesn't affect your lungs or liver.

I did learn that Bored to Tears is a song, Bored Silly is a movie, Bored to Death is an HBO series. and Bored Stiff is a band.  

See all the things you can learn when you are bored! 

Uncomfortable position - you would think

While I was reading, Bogie was napping.  On the landing.  With his head hanging over.  And his nose smushed on the stair below.

It looks like an uncomfortable position, but this isn't the first time he has lain like this.  

Just the first time I've been able to get a picture. 

Bogie - on guard duty

Bogie and Angel like to watch out over the street from the second floor window.  No one, human or canine, walks on the sidewalk past our house without a verbal greeting/warning.

 The streaks on the glass are the ever-present,  mysteriously reappearing nose prints. 

Sparrows chillin' in the sage

For some reason it annoyed Bogie to see these sparrows hanging out on the sage bush.

I thought they were cute. 

Typical car ride with the dogs

Angel and Bogie *love* to go for car rides.  I generally break my grocery shopping into two trips so I can take them for a ride both weekend mornings.

My motive is basically selfish.  I had a Lhasa mix that never rode in the car except to go to the groomer or the vet.  Whenever he got into the car, he would start a high pitched whine that didn't stop until we got to our destination.

When Peanut was alive, she would only look out of the passenger side rear window.  I managed to train Angel to only look out of the driver side.  Angel entered the car first from the passenger side, headed to her window, and stayed there.

Now, Angel is having a hard time adjusting to Bogie as a car-mate.  I have so far been unable to convince him to only look out of the passenger side.

Oh, he starts there.  He just doesn't stay there.

We will be driving down the road in my compact car.  Angel has her head hanging out the driver side rear window.  Bogie has his out the passenger side.  Everyone is happy.

Then Bogie sees something on the driver side.  He moves to that window, taking the outside edge of the back seat and crushing Angel against the seat back.

In the rear view mirror, I can see her backing away from the window, struggling against Bogie's superior weight.  At no point does Bogie even consider giving her more space.

Angel frees herself and sits in the back seat. With her back to the passenger rear window.  She will crane her head to sniff the air, but at no point will she actually turn around to face the window.

I'm probably being anthropomorphic, but to me she looks sad, and resigned.

Then Bogie will decide he wants to look out the passenger window.  He turns and switches sides.  Angel is facing the correct direction and forces her way to "her" window to hang her head out.

This complete rotation happens at least once per fifteen minute trip.  Sometimes more.

And still, Angel is thrilled when I say "Car ride?".

I devote more and more time to body maintenance

When did body maintenance get so complicated?  The older I get the more time it takes to keep my body functional and reasonably fit.    

The morning starts with exercises.  Well, actually it starts with dog petting.  But after affection is sufficiently dispensed, I do exercises. I do crunches for core strength, triceps push-ups to counteract granny flap, and back exercises for my shoulders to counteract computer hunch. 

Next I use prescription eye drops for dry eye. Then I put salicylic acid on my chin for acne.  Acne that I never had as a teenager, mind you. It hardly seems fair that I get it now.  Although, honestly, it would have bothered me more back then. 

Then there is collagen for the deep wrinkles between my eyes caused by squinting because I'm too lazy to grab my reading glasses.  If the wrinkles get too deep, they actually start to hurt.  No one warned me about that.   

Recently I started using spot lightener to counteract the years of my misspent youth when I didn't use sun screen.  But honestly, no one had heard of sun screen when I was a kid.  The jury is still out on whether the spot lightener works. 

After that moisturizers on my cheeks which I don't dare apply to my chin, unless I want more of the aforementioned acne.  The facial moisturizer is too light to fight turkey neck.  So I use a different, thicker moisturizer on my neck.  

Of course, I floss and brush my teeth. I want to have my real teeth when I turn 80.  Well, one is already a crown, but the rest are real and I want to keep it that way. 

Sigh.  Then downstairs to take my vitamins and pills.  I take vitamins to keep my brain clear, to strengthen my bones, to lubricate my muscles, and to give me energy.  Plus a probiotic and a pill for erosive esophagitis caused by too many years of aspirin use. 

Besides all this, I go to the gym four days a week to keep my blood pressure and cholesterol under control, and to maintain a general fitness level.  I'm told I should be going five days a week. Seriously?  I need time to actually enjoy the life I am working so hard to maintain. 

At this rate, by the time I'm 80, my entire day will be devoted to maintaining my health.  

It's no wonder people retire from work.  They don't have time to spare.  

Startling noises

Standing at the kitchen sink, I hear a rumbling shudder.

What in the world?

No heavy trucks drive in this neighborhood.  No delivery trucks start rounds at 6 AM.

Did the closet rod collapse upstairs?  Again?

Next, I hear a long scratching sound.

Sigh. It's Bogie.

First, he planted his shoulder against the hall wall with a resounding thud.  Then he dragged his head and shoulder along the length of the wall, his collar scratching against the drywall.

He's like a cat rubbing itself against the furniture.  Only ten times bigger.

Isn't flushable a requirement for toilet paper?

I noticed this helpful notice on the toilet paper I bought this weekend. Somehow I don't think of  "flushable" as worthy of note. 

Isn't that like saying a can opener "opens cans" or a pad of paper is "writable"? 

What good would toilet paper be if it wasn't flushable?  

Stuffed hedge hog lasted fifteen minutes - tops

I bought two new dog toys yesterday morning.  But I didn't intend to give them to the dogs until evening when I would want some peace and quiet to read.  I hid the plastic bag on top of the dryer, behind a bucket that I was using to soak a cleaning rag. 

Late afternoon, I am quietly reading in the living room when I hear a rustle and see Bogie hurrying across the family room and out the doggy door.  

I rush outside to see what's going on.  He has retrieved the bag of toys and is trying to extricate one from the bag.  I grab the bag from him so I can remove the hang tags.  

I present him with the hedge hog. Angel gets the zebra.  

Within 15 minutes, this is the scene - an exhausted, but thoroughly happy, Bogie and what remains of a stuffed hedge hog.  

The lamb in the background was purchased more than 4 months ago before I had Bogie.  For some reason, it has survived intact.