Category Archives: Aminals

How Hard Is It?

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How hard is it to get a cow to back up? I asked Rufus.

“They’ll do it,” he said. “But they don’t like it.”

The question came up when I was out for my morning walk. One of my neighbors was walking her dog. The dog got into a corner and couldn’t get out. The. Dog. Would. Not. Back. Up.

That’s obviously a problem in search of a modern solution.

Most modern cars have MP3 players, in-dash GPS, and rear view cameras on the option or standard equipment list. I was in a Ford recently. The Ford SYNC system is a “factory-installed, integrated in-vehicle communications and entertainment system that allows users to make hands-free telephone calls, control music and perform other functions with the use of voice commands.” Ford and other third-party developers developed a laundry list of applications and user interfaces that include a pretty slick backup camera. The SYNC (Powered by Microsoft™) in that particular car required rebooting the car every now and then and the radio never did the same thing twice but that’s another story.

Dead Cow in the Backup CameraThe backup camera assists drivers in several ways. It can eliminate blind spots like the one right under your bumper and, if it operates while your car is in drive, you can see more about the cars around you on the freeway which means that airhead who cut you off this morning could have actually looked before changing lanes. It may swivel so you can see to parallel park. And it’s invaluable in big pickups, motor homes, and camping trailers.

I had occasion to back a pickup onto the boat trailer alone the other day. No need to figure out those conflicting hand signals Rufus was giving me. I just swivelled the eye down a little so I could bring the ball right in under the coupler.

If your car doesn’t have one already, you can add it.

Liz Arden is doing that now.

She already has a radio with the big LED display screen and an auxiliary input for a camera, so wiring one from the license plate bracket to the dash is a (relative) breeze.

She bought the camera with the widest viewing angle she could get. It’s high resolution and sharp. She hopes it is weather resistant.

I propose we mount backup cameras on dogs and horses because they obviously don’t like going where they can’t see. Cows are on their own. Further, it should be a government program. After all, Sen. Tom Coburn found that we spent $175,587 to study the connections between cocaine and risky sex habits of quail.

 

Guest Post: Caitlin’s Cat Folder

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[Special to the Perspective] — I had to rent a car over the weekend. I chose the $9.99 special, a Hyundai Sonata. It was not awful; I would get it again for just the Sirius Radio.

This was my first experience with Korean cars and I didn’t find the cultural cross over difficult at all — until I encountered the Cat Folder button.

Why Would I Fold a Cat?Why would I fold a Cat?

Better yet, in what shape would my car fold a Cat? Should it be a neat little bundle, an origami form?

Is it a tri fold? Do we leave the head and legs out?

Having folded a Cat, in my car, what am I to do with it? (well aware of Korean cuisine I pondered many possibilities).

Finally, how does the Cat feel about all this? Not too happy, I expect.

Fortunately, I’m very allergic and can’t have a cat so somewhere in the Northeast United States there is a lucky, unfolded Cat, that I don’t own and therefore will never attempt to fold.

–Caitlin Abbate

 

I Need a Dog

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I saw Dan walking Bridget’s tan dog-shaped-dog yesterday. Dan is my neighbor to the south, Bridget to the north. I didn’t quite get why Dan was walking Bridget’s dog but I got a puppy fix nonetheless.

I grew up in the middle of farming country where we always had dogs and cats who could be outside whenever they wanted. I’ve never quite figured out this walk-around-with-a-plastic-bag routine people without room for dogs to run engage in.

As a wee child, I ate Fig Newtons and pulled the tail of Jason, a great, golden-fleeced tomcat, on my grandmother’s bed. Jason tolerated that until I started to walk. Then he beat me up. I still like cats.

We can’t have another cat, though. Every family has one perfect one. Ruff (pictures here) was ours.

We rented Ruff to a friend when we went on vacation one year. He immediately trained his temporary owner by finding a hiding place. Temporary Mom went ballistic trying to find him.

“We moved every piece of furniture 300 times,” she said. “And we ran up and down the roads calling him until midnight.

“I couldn’t sleep. Every time I heard a noise, I’d have to get up and look for him. By 4 a.m., I had decided to tell you I took him back to your daughter’s and she lost him!”

Darn cat came out, “Meow?” from hiding about breakfast time.

His temporary mom not only allowed him to sleep in her bed after that, I suspect she doubled his rations, too (that means two scoops of kitty kibble and all the mouses he could eat). Ruff is the only cat I know who has lost a dead mouse. It confuses him terribly when that happens.

We always had dogs as I was growing up. Monty was a mutt who knew to lick the butter off the toast and bring it back for more. Misty (Christmas Mistletoe) was a beautiful collie who fell in lurve with Marshall Jones’ magnificent farm collie up the road. The result was a litter that included Ferocious who went to friends and Rover who was mine. Rover had some cognitive problems after the incident with the eggnog, but that’s another story. He was a sweet, lovable, perfect dog for a boy with a bicycle.

My folks changed to labs after I went away to college.

I split the difference when we moved to Vermont and found a puppy from a tri-color collie bitch in her first heat who showed a champion yellow Lab field dog a good time in the dark of night. We named that puppy Dogg (the second “G” showed his class).

Dogg raised our kids, swam in an innertube, and was always, always at my side. Except when he slept with Ruff. He was bumptious and Lab-smart, but he looked like a big, black, farm collie.

I almost gave up on having dogs when he finally wore out.

Wendy's Better SideRuff made me change my mind. He was lonely.

The local used dog store had a fine weekend special: take a dog home for a test drive. Daughter Kris called us to say they had a Golden Retriever with my name on it so we brought her home for Ruff’s approval.

She whined. She didn’t bark. Ever. I had to teach this dog to bark.

Her name tag said she was “Dandy” but she wasn’t. We renamed her Gwendolyn Dandelion Whine. Wendy Whiner for short.

We once rented Wendy to a family in Burlington. They had recently lost their own dog and wanted to “try out” having another one underfoot. She was the kind of dog who is underfoot all the time. She leaned, she coaxed, she whined, she hoped. She ate with them, played with them, frolicked in the rain with them, ate their popcorn and table scraps, and slept in their beds. Guess where she expected to sleep ever after?

Daisy at the BeachI need a dog but I travel. SWMBO travels. We’re just not in one place enough to be fair to a dog.

So Dan was walking Bridget’s tan dog-shaped-dog yesterday. Another friend, Katie, is down from the U.S. for a while and has a gig dog-sitting for a family the next street over. As far as I can tell, they have five dogs, all large.

I don’t like walking and poop-scooping for dogs. I like playing catch and lounging. I’m thinking every neighborhood should have borrowable dogs — real ones, not these yappy little rats-on-leashes you see here — that we could simply check out for a quick romp, then return. Berners and Collies and Goldies and Labs and Newfies and Shepherds. Dogs with fur. Dogs with personality. Dogs who understand roughhousing.

Meanwhile, if you see a bearded man shambling down the street and groping every dog on the way, be kind.