Monday, October 8, 2007

Poor Kelsey...

... he finally gets his own blog entry, and he doesn't get to keep it.


This blog's previous entry, "Unmentioned Dog," gathered some very interesting commentary that deserves more space in thanks than adding another comment to the stream would afford. Meanwhile, I'll sprinkle unrelated pictures of Kelsey here and there because (a) we hijacked his only blogpost for something completely unrelated to him and (b) Chris wants to see more of them, anyway.

The material I edited out of "Unmentioned Dog" was a list of people near and dear to those who are on my blogroll and about whom we seldom hear anything on the blogs. I deleted that part because, as the post-editing addendum says, I didn't want to come across as critical in any way, and (probably more important), since the bloggers themselves seldom mention their closely-held, then it sure as hell wasn't my place to do so.

Looking back over the past several years' vet records, it seems that Kelsey might better have been named "Heinz." He always weighs 57 pounds -- never 56 or 58, but always 57.

As of this typing, everyone who has commented on "Unmentioned Dog" was mentioned on the elided material and has pretty much expressed what I said and, in a couple of cases, expanded well beyond what I said. I am led to believe that this blog could write itself better than I do: all I'd have to do, it seems, is toss out a couple of key terms, say I'd written a post that I didn't much like and so deleted it, and a far better post on the topics would compose itself in the comments.

Kelsey maintaining a dedicated vigil against whatever outside evil must have been responsible for the chicken poops on the picnic table.

A few direct replies to some comments:

O'Ronnie, I am flattered that you read this thing and thankful that you offer your insights and support in one particular area where we share a sad experience.

Mike, your comment is incisive and thoughtful, as usual, but you really know how to crush a guy's dreams. You really think "All Things Considered" wouldn't find Buffy and Goldie's tale irresistable?

"I see that you have something that might be tasty. If I plaster my ears all the way back along my neck, would you give me a little morsel?"

Dann, never say "never," right? Now you know.

Brian, Diane thought your opening was hilarious ("Diane must be thrilled by the comparison [to a dog] -- though I have a feeling she's not surprised.") No, not surprised at all, but I can't get away with anything, anyway. After reading your comment and the post itself (in that order), she said that what y'all didn't pick up on was that all those words around the picture were just an excuse to show a picture of something looking up at me with unquestioning adoration, and that picture sure wasn't going to be one of her. She then tried to manage just such an expression and couldn't hold it for as long as three seconds before we both almost injured ourselves laughing.

I have no idea how Nancy Reagan managed it.

Grin time, ride time.

What we show and what we don't in this medium was also a hot topic over at Chris's place last week. There it took the form of thoughts about comment moderation; if anyone reading this doesn't read Creek Running North on a regular basis, you might want to browse through that discussion.

If you do, please come back here once in a while, anyway.

San Lorenzo River dog.

1 comment:

Dann said...

Well it is nice to make the team every once in a while. [grin]

In response to your question, I don't post a great deal about my family and pets for a variety of reasons.

My beloved bride believes that the Internet is chocked full with two legged predators that are just dying for an excuse to Google their victims to death. The fact that there are some pretty perverted people out there that do use the Internet to commit some pretty awful crimes doesn't help my argument that there are some pretty nice people on the Internet as well.

So my beloved bride remains unnamed and infrequently mentioned. Those that know us, know to whom I am referring.

She's also a bit paranoid with respect to naming the kids. And as a favor to them, I usually refer to them by their order in the progeny cycle on those occasions where they do something that one just cannot ignore. Such as when progeny number 3 graduated high school as one of two valedictorians.

The only member of the local fauna that gets a regular mention on the blog is Progeny Number One's cat. P#1 having left the nest, but the cat remains. Don't ask me why, I just live here.

The primary mention being the "Dead Cat Chronicles" that are photos of the cat sleeping in various spots around the house. At least, I'm pretty sure he's sleeping. Either that or some danged pervert is moving him around the house.

And I thought the odd smell was coming from the litter box....

Mostly, my blog is a place where I think out loud. Quilting aside, it isn't a diary as much as it a place for me to scream into the wind. Which is kind of therapeutic until you get a look at the number of emails I have in just one of my many email in-boxes that is dedicated to stuff that I intend..or intended...to post on the blog someday.

Makes the throat sore just to think about it.