...not as well-written as you assure me Barbara Hambly's are...

the latest chapter summary of the inept vampire novel is up.

I don't know about you, but I am going to concentrate on the small annoyance of the author calling the dog a "Belgium sheepdog," to keep my mind off the larger and more horrific issue of... well, everything else about the story.

Belgian Sheepdogs. Think about Belgian Sheepdogs.

Who SO deserve better...

...We had another snowstorm today.

And for anyone who is starting to feel down in the mouth about this fact, here's a little guy who probably thinks this weather is the BEST!



I should sell the Honda and buy some huskies...

Obviously, your characters contain parts of you. Prior to this holiday I would cheerfully tell people that Jordy is not like me in that he is half my age, male, and prefers small dogs to large ones.

Yeah, when I get home I'll post a couple of pictures of my sister-in-law's Yorkie, Mini Cooper. I am suddenly that little bit more like my character than I thought I was!

Such a ferocious breed...

Here's a great little video explaining why you might not want a couple of Siberians for your very own:


(They really are pretty much like this all the time.)

( Further videos for those who have read 'The Call Of the Wild' once too often. And yes, my own old Sibe, Pike, was indeed named for a character in that book. )

Snowboarding!



I have such an urge to watch The Incredible Journey now!

There's a notice up in the elevator here at work about a charity event where you can get your pet's picture taken with Santa.

For Santa's sake, I won't mention it to Mitzi.

Coney would probably purr at Santa and shed grey fur all over his red suit.

But I imagine most of the pets involved will be dogs. Which makes me think, probably a lot of the dogs will be golden retrievers, just because golden owners can probably trust their dogs not to bite Santa.

And it just now occurred to me, I bet golden retrievers always get exactly what they want for Christmas. Because whatever they get, I bet they think, "Wow! That's exactly what I wanted!"

There are times when I think it would be nice to be a golden retriever.

I just today found a picture that will do for Steve, the Papillon belonging to cranky Mrs Goodnight in the Kowalski story.



Hey, I don't even like little dogs much and I think he's adorable. Jordy, with his fatal weakness for the small and fluffy, is a goner. And he gets bonus points from Mrs Goodnight for immediately realizing the dog is named after Steve McQueen.

...but I do appreciate the last paragraph of this review of "Firehouse Dog."

Clearly, the breed association has done its work.

...the the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel is the dog to have.

Note Wikipedia's entry on their temperament:

The breed is highly affectionate, and some have called the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel "the ultimate lap dog". Most dogs of the breed are playful, extremely patient and eager to please. As such, dogs of the breed are usually good with children and other dogs. A well-socialized Cavalier will not be shy about socializing with much larger dogs. (However, on occasion, this tendency can be dangerous, as many Cavaliers will presume all other dogs to be equally friendly, and may attempt to greet and play with aggressive dogs).

(Not that Coney would be much help with the presuming-everyone-is-friendly part.)

Pictures:








I seem to like the Blenheims. I'm sure Coney would too, as long as they let him wash their little faces.

My sister sent me a bunch of pictures of dogs dressed up for Hallowe'en. This little dude was my favourite:



Isn't he great?

The photo on the left is the Elvis bear. On the right is Barney, looking thoroughly ashamed of himself.

Headline in the Scotsman? "You Ain't Nothin' But A (Very Bad) Hound Dog."

Hee!

Last night I dreamed I had a border collie. We were learning how to separate sheep into little groups and herd them into pens and stuff.

Boy, was I disappointed when I woke up.

I'm at the public library with only five minutes left, so this will be short: I went back to Eight Below with friends today and noticed: the Paul Walker character, Jerry, loves all the dogs. But he's such a guy that he only gets soppy over the girl dog, Maya.

Mind you, she is the cutest. But it's kind of funny that she's the one who gets all the kisses on the nose.

Oh, and Paul Walker? I can see where he isn't an actor with great range. But he gets a lifetime pass from me for making me believe he loved those dogs. Mind you--Siberian huskies and malamutes. How hard could it have been?

So my brother and I went to Eight Below last night. I didn't cry as much as I thought I might and there was a little too much of the people, but damn, those dogs were awesome. The lead dog, Maya, had a couple of scenes where the team is in a fan hitch so she's not attached tight to the gangline, and the musher gives her a little longer line to lead the way--when he says "Hike!" she hits the line so hard she goes straight up into the air. I used to know Siberian breeders who ran their dogs in teams, and I remember someone telling me that it was "cruel" to make dogs work like that. I told the person that these breeders couldn't set the brake on their sleds, they had to tie them to trees, or the dogs would have just taken off down the river and run and run and run. As it was most of them screamed until they got underway. Everyone's good at something. Siberian huskies are good at running in packs.

My guy, Pike (Best. Dog. Ever) was no sled dog, but he was devoted to dragging me around until he was at least seven years old.

My only complaint about the movie was the lack of a good howling scene. These dogs barked a lot more than the Siberians I had, but there was no howling. If you visit this link and click on Team Howling 3 you'll get the effect I was hoping for.

As it was, I don't even quibble about a hunting scene in which Maya musters the troops and gives them their assignments. I keep remembering a time when my family's three Sibes got out of their pens--Flash and Silver tunneled from their pen into Pike's, and then all three escaped together. This was no coincidence, they did things as a pack. And these are damned smart dogs.

And now I'm going to stop before nostalgia kicks in and I really do cry.

...look at this little guy and his wonderful toy!

(Nicked from pattimac, God love her.)