dogng about th UPTOWN

Hi hi!

I continue to do dogs. We walk from place to place & back to place. We lick each other (mostly them me). We clean up each other's poo (mostly I theirs). I can't believe this autospellcheck doesn't know th word 'poo'!

(( But I have no trouble believing that it doesn't know th word 'autospellcheck'. ))

I had more dogs to walk than ever today. I had no time to breathe & I had to do multiple dogs just to keep up. I enjoyed it, tho, & it will pay.

Three dogs at once I found an interesting challenge. Little dog continually tried to hump medium dog (I guess he felt th need to compensate for size?) & big dog continually tugged everybody everywhere. All survived, even me.

I basically work alone, which I've never really done before. I drive to people's houses, nab their dogs, walk 'em, & put 'em back. Then I do it again. I run into people on th street ("Wow, those are big dogs! Are those Great Danes?"), but I don't have any co-workers to speak of, just two bosses that I call twice a day to check in with.

So I talk to th dogs. & myself. I also sing to them, when nobody's around. In a few months, maybe I'll have recorded an album of odes to my canines.

(( Or maybe I will have checked into an asylum. ))

I consider myself fortunate to work close enough to Northwestern University to pick up their campus radio station, WNUR. I've never found listening to th radio so pleasing. Every morning they play whacked out jazz until noon. After that, I find it hit or miss, but I always enjoy it better than any Clear Channel station on this planet.

(( On two separate occasions, I caught them playing Steve Reich's, 'It's Gonna Rain'. ))

I have one dog that drives me crazy: Tallin, a retired greyhound (still a greyhound, but retired from racing, presumably). He suffers from separation anxiety, they say, since his owner-mama started working again after some time at home unemployed. People who don't qualify as 'owner-mama' can only get him to cooperate by bribing him with salami. I do this, but he doesn't trust me. He lets me know this by barking & nipping at me. Every day. Without fail. Presumably, he does it to keep me in line, let me know who plays th boss, warn me not to try any funny business. But it makes me crazy! If I do th wrong thing, he could hurt me. No dog has ever made me this nervous.

I suppose my bulldog experience from two weeks ago (finally got th last stitches out this morning, but it remains a frightful sight) doesn't help my state of mind. I'd hate for two dogs to maul me. Anyway, everyone has been showing me support - bosses & owner-mama - & I continue doing what I can. His last walker eventually had no troubles. It just takes time.

But other than Tallin scaring th bejeebus out of me, dog-walking goes fine!

So now you know.

some say his name is Tallin

Who is this greyhound-faced god? "His name is 'Everlasting Devourer,' and he liveth in the Domain [of Fire] (the Lake of Unt). . . . who feedeth upon the dead, who watcheth at the Bend of the Lake of Fire, who devoureth the bodies of the dead, and swalloweth hearts, and who voideth filth, but who himself remaineth unseen. . . . "Hail, Lord of Terror, Chief of the Lands of the South and North, thou Lord of the Desert, who dost keep prepared the block of slaughter, and who dost feed on the intestines [of men]!"

~ a bit of terror from th Egyptian Book of th Dead.

boat toast

Somebody wants updates. I'm sure somebody wants them.


Nimlys:

1 :: Last Wednesday I played Heartland Cafe open mic for th first time. I enjoyed it! but only got to play one song. By friendly request, I played 'vejtbls u'v nevr herd of'.

2 :: Und Last Thursday I played at th glorious Gallery Cabaret & had great fun bribing people with haikus to get them on my email list! Hooray for $4 pitchers of booze & nice human beings big & small.


Dogs (Doogs):

I walk them. Such is my new jobby.

An event took place on th first day of my job, that known as Monday. I encountered a 'bad dog,' as they say, a bulldog named (no lie) Spike who decided to get a good chomp on my right hand, completely unprovoked. He bit hard (as bulldogs will do), & now I have eight pretty blue stitches in this fortunately still five-fingered hand of mine. No great damage did Spike do, but enough to necessitate sutures, antibiotics, & a trip to th ER.

But I still love doggies & continue to walk them.

Many a wonderful dog do I walk - from gargantuan Great Danes (my largest clocks in at 200 plus pounds!) to a teeny-tiny Shitzu (or something) puppy that I (with my wimpy mandolin arm) could probably throw quite high into th air. (I will not attempt to make this happen; do not fear for th adorable puppy who chases his tail & fights his reflection!)

I am still in 'training,' since I cannot grip leashes with my damaged but faithfully healing right hand. Soon, tho, perhaps tomorrow or Friday, I will work alone, driving from house to house, walking fantastic canines & cleaning up their poo.

This job floats my boat.

multiverse spatterings

Hi there, multiverse, how do you do?

I sit on Monday afternoonish eating a home-made burrito with mushrooms & tarragon. My sweet Corgweiler friend Sparkus sits in whiny beg. Th Captain wails away 'Ice Cream For Crow'. All things go.

As of a week minus a day ago, I no longer work for Greenpeace. I enjoyed my time there, but th time came for newthings. Approaching hundreds of grumpy strangers for money every day grew wearisome.

I spend days diddling on my mandolin & job-fishing. I scheduled an interview today at a dog walkery not far from my bedside. On th Saturday that cometh next, return to walkery I will. Walkin' makes money. I like pupples.

In meantime, I seek opportunities for mandolinnery. I want to do many shows all of times. I want friendlies to do visitations & dance. Suchness makes happiness. Isness makes fallacy.

I will assemble information about th upcomings when they upcome.

Many Lovely Glove Spatterings,
Andrew th Nim