Before we go wading out into the nooze today, a funny story:
The producers of a TV show heard about a dog that could play poker, and they wanted to do a feature on it. So they searched all over the country until they finally found the man who owned the dog, and sent a film crew there. After the introductions, the man admitted that his dog did, indeed, play poker.
“Well, sir, that’s just what we came all the way here to see! We’d love to film your dog playing poker.”
“Oh, I don’t let him play anymore,” said the owner. “He just ain’t that good at it.”
“Why, what’s the matter with him?”
“Oh…. Every time he gets a good hand, he wags his tail.” [Cue canned laughter]
As the poor yink who’d have to clean it up if it ever happened here, I view these videos of cats and toilet paper with something akin to horror. I wonder if H.P. Lovecraft was able to keep his cats away from the toilet paper. Betcha he couldn’t.
I’m happy to say that none of our cats ever got into the habit of shredding toilet paper and turning our apartment into an indoor celebration of Mischief Night.
The cats in this video are astoundingly well-behaved.
I remember someone who had a water bed in her upstairs bedroom, and also a guinea pig–who got out of his cage, discovered the water bed, and decided to gnaw a couple of holes in it. None of us noticed anything wrong until suppertime, when the ceiling over the dining area started to give way.
I once did two weeks of cat-sitting for a neighbor who had half a dozen cats in his apartment. He also had a plethora of hanging plants, some of them affixed to the ceiling. For almost the whole time, the cats ignored the plants: but then they went into full Tarzan mode. Oh, what a mess! Hanging from the overhead light fixtures, too. It was as if they had suddenly discovered how to fly and were making the most of it.
I dassn’t post more videos of cats and dogs frolicking in the snow. I admit I wasn’t frolicking this morning when I chipped the ice off my car. So… we shall remain indoors.
Does your dog or cat enjoy romping up and down the stairs? Our cats don’t do it much anymore, although Robbie will tear up the stairs to celebrate a more than usually satisfying visit to the litter box. I wish I could do that (running full-tilt up the stairs, I mean).
G’day! Byron the Quokka here, on Rottnest Island. I hear a lot of you Yanks have been snowed in, can’t get out and have fun. Well, it looks like I’m here with more TV listings just in time! We don’t want you going mad with cabin fever, do we?
So here are the Quokka University Broadcast System’s (see? we’ve got a name for it now) offerings for this weekend. Happy viewing, everybody!
8 p.m. 03 MY MOTHER THE NEWT (Sitcom) Harry and Debbie get kicked off their middle school band when Mr. Roomba discovers their mother is a giant newt. Can Uncle Beefy, a rather large frog, save the day? Mr. Roomba: Ricardo Montalban. Uncle Beefy: Dick Cavett.
05 NEWS WITH RUDE NOISES (News and Weather) The same news you got on all the other channels, but this time with crude and impolite noises in the background. Anchorman’s identity still unknown.
8:10 P.M. 05 MOVIE OF THE MILLENIUM “I Hear Earwigs Singing” (1971) The Bowery Boys take on a mad grocer (Colin Clive) who has been flouting London’s health codes–in Yuma, Arizona. Leo Gorcey, Huntz Hall, Chou En-lai. Special guest appearance by Elias Howe, inventor of the sewing machine.
8:39 P.M. 04 TRAGEDY PLAYHOUSE (Drama) “When You Lose That Beat” combines Oedipus Rex with Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom for a totally incomprehensible waste of 93 minutes. Guaranteed to impress your friends and family, if you say you watched the whole thing. Oedipus: Rory Calhoun. Marlon Perkins: himself. Music by Bobby Fischer and his Orchestra.
8:45 P.M. 07, 11, 13 SLUGGO POTASH, GUNSLINGER! (Western, as if you didn’t know) In “Duel at the Lost City of the Poptecs,” Sluggo (Darren McGavin) must shoot it out with his arch-enemy, Mitch McConnell, who has made himself dictator of a lost city inhabited by people no one ever heard of. King Axolotl: Jon Hall. Princess Chipotle: Joey Heatherton. High Priest: Soupy Sales.
Well, that’s enough for now! I still don’t know how we got our hands–I mean our paws–on all these shows, and I’m sure I don’t want to.
Oh, to have the fun these cats are having! We’ve got heaps and heaps of snow–why am I not out there sledding? Making snowmen? I don’t know how this happened, but the sledding hill at Tommy’s Pond has gotten a lot smaller since I was a boy. Sleds have gotten smaller, too.
Our little painted turtle loved to have his head scratched–and his chin and lower jaw, too. I always fed him by hand, so he was quite people-oriented. He also lived in hope that Henry the cat would someday bring him food, too, but in this he was disappointed: Henry just liked to sit there and watch him.
A lot of different kids of turtles make very nice pets.