Usually I like to be Switzerland in blog wars. Recently, however, I had more fun being Benedict Arnold, whimsically switching sides just because I could.
However, now I think I want to be Halliburton. Well, not exactly Halliburton. I didn’t help start this war. I just want to be a profiteer.
So, Scott-O-Rama and FARB, I implore you to direct your warlike energies into raising funds for River Aid, to help pay
Mastercard River the Dog’s ever-mounting vet bills.
A Drink-Off? A sex tape? I’m sure you two can think of something. Can you really refuse the sweet face of
Timothy J. La the River Dog?
One of the things that happened to River while he was away at Spa Million Dollar Dog was that he got a blood transfusion to replace what he lost and jump-start his clotting. When Dr. Ward told me on the phone, she said they were able to use the blood of a healthy dog who was right there at the Spa.
Dog blood donors: Do they do it out of altruism? Or to get spare treats?
You may be thinking, “Enough about fleas!” But if a flea was good enough for a John Donne poem, and that poem was worthy of two days’ discussion in a sophomore English lit class…
I have discovered a bio-friendly and apparently effective way to fight fleas in the yard (which is the only way to keep the bastards out of the house). Here’s what I read online, courtesy of PETA:
Products containing beneficial nematodes (micro-organisms that eat flea larvae) can be sprayed on lawns and, unlike many toxic treatments, are perfectly safe for animals, birds, and humans, as well as “friendly” garden dwellers like earthworms and ladybugs. Brand names such as Bio Flea Halt!, Biosys, and Interrupt! can be found in pet stores and in the lawn and garden sections of hardware stores and supermarkets.
Sounds wonderful. Except that Petco, Petsmart, Home Depot, Lowe’s, and the Garden Center have no such products, and I can’t seem to find a place to order them online. Anyone familiar with these brands or know a chain that carries them?
This weekend, I’m celebrating Independence from Fleas Day. That’s right. It’s flea-foggin’ weekend at the Compound. Tonight, while River is at Spa Heartworm, we fogged Tim’s apartment. Tomorrow…the house.
I WILL see these bastards dead.
Oh, and then I’ll take over Denver Carrington. (Who started that joke, Tim?)
I don’t feel guilty about providing an update on Tim’s new best friend because later, I’ll be picking up photos of the two of them which he can put in his LJ.
As of today, should River escape his fence-imposing, neutering-happy, vet-believing, short toenail-loving, bath-giving, flea-hating captors, he is tagged with his name and phone number.
…that I am crazy about my friend and writing partner, Timothy J. Lambert. But the last week has just reminded me again as I’ve watched him with the Big Goofy Yellow Dog now known as River. I have always called Tim “the dog whisperer” because he taught Margot and Guinness many things after taking up residence in the apartment behind our house. They are wonderful dogs anyway, but he made them even better.
So I’m not surprised by his patience and kindness with River. Or the many walks he and River have taken as Tim has tried to find River’s home and family. Or the way he scheduled River’s upcoming vet visit so we can make sure he gets or stays healthy. Or the way he’s already taught River to sit, to behave well on a leash, and to accept his crate.
Just now, the girls and I sat on the office couch, staring out the window, as Tim came outside to put fresh water in River’s bowl. And watching this big, gentle dog wag his tail and follow every move Tim made with that adoring expression unique to dogs just melted my heart.
I don’t know if River will stay with us. He may be in poor health. His other family may eventually see our “found dog” signs and call. Someone else may adopt him away from us. But I know that for whatever time River gets to stay with Tim, he’s the luckiest dog in the world.
Tim and I have discovered that Pringles™ are heroin for dogs. Right now, Salt & Vinegar seems to be preferred by two out of two bitches.
When I first met Tim, he had long hair, and I loved it. He was still living in NYC when he cut it off, and he sent me a little braid of it as a memento.
After he moved here, I begged him to grow it long again, and he did. He has great hair, so it looks good long. Plus, I don’t know. He does all these cool things that give him a rock star look. I know he didn’t keep it long just for me, but he definitely didn’t want to hear me whining if he decided to cut it, so it got longer and longer. Like this.
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