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.