We brought Dalla home from the pound last night.  It has been an interesting seventeen-plus hours.  She is very needy at this point.  She has to know where everyone is at all times and, naturally, she prefers everyone to remain in the same room so she can keep an eye on both of us.  She made herself a nest behind our recliner last night while I sat in the recliner and Sarah was lying on the sofa.  Dalla doesn't understand the stereo yet.  We were playing some Dinah Washington last night and she spent ten minutes trying to find the third person in the house who was singing.  She doesn't walk on a leash very well at all.  We're working on that, but it will be a struggle.  We put her crate in our bedroom last night, complete with her dog mat and dog towel in it.  She responded by taking the dog towel out of the crate (she doesn't like the crate).  Then, we wouldn't let her up on the bed, so she spent part of the night constructing a nest out of a few dirty clothes that we had on the floor.  At first, she wouldn't go down the stairs to the basement for hell or high-water.  Now she seems to enjoy going down in the basement.  We bought some cheap dog treats at Wal-Mart (the first ingrediants are wheat flour and wheat-something-else).  She responded by taking any of those treats she is given and hiding them somewhere else in the house (under curtains, in baskets, behind furniture, etc.) uneaten.  This morning, Sarah took her out first thing in the morning for a bathroom break and she helpfully grabbed a newspaper and brought it back to the house, unprompted.  Of course, when I took her for a walk this morning, she attempted to bring every newspaper we encountered home and I had to keep reminding her, "No, only ours, Dalla.  Only ours."  To punish me for leaving her alone for two minutes while I went to the bathroom right before I left for work (Sarah was already gone to a job interview), she took my newest pair of biking sunglasses off the bed and helpfully put teethmarks in the lenses.  Like I said above, it has been an interesting seventeen-plus hours. It is obvious from the tactics and forces deployed, that the US had absolutely no intention of taking Saddam Hussein's sons alive.  You don't attempt to catpure people with the 101st Airborne, Apache helicopters, TOW missiles, and A-10 Warthogs.  You use special forces, stealth, and surprise.  Apparently, the Bush administration would rather just kill opponents than put then on trial. An open letter to the woman driving the white Monte Carlo: > Thank you for stepping on the brakes at the last second this morning as you attempted to leave the TDS Metrocom parking lot on Univ. Ave. without first looking to your left. It would have been a major bummer to start my day with broken bones, bleeding, and other miscellaneous injuries. Unfortunately, your response to this incident was a bit difficult to fathom. My helpful reminder to look both ways before pulling out into traffic seemed not to penetrate past the air of hostility you were projecting. Is it my fault that I was riding a bicycle, in a bike lane, with traffic? Your response, profanity and gesticulation including obscene gestures, seemed to indicate that was the case. It was also intriguing to note that you were in a hurry when you almost ran me down, but then your continued harassment at 15-19 mph for a 1/4 mile or more made me question exactly what happened to that initial burst of haste. Some suggestions that you may want to ponder while you rage uselessly at the next red light that holds you hostage to the automobile society: 1. Your inventory of profanity is notably limited. Profanity loses it edge very quickly in modern society, so it is often necessary to combine profane and non-profane words and phrases in new and interesting ways to grab the listener's attention. Might I suggest a trip to the either Boston or New York City where the use of profanity is an art and curse words are used as rapiers and not clubs.
2. Consider my helpful suggestion to look both ways before crossing the street.  Sure, I weigh 173 pounds. With all of my gear and my bike I probably weigh somewhere between 210-230 pounds.  If I side-swiped you because you pulled out in front of me, chances are that I would sustain major damage and you would need a new front quarter panel or door.  However, imagine if I had been a dump-truck driver, driving in the same oblivious manner as yourself, with a full load of gravel or sand and you pulled the same stunt.  Firefighters would need the Jaws of Life just to recover your nicotine-stained teeth so that your remains could be identified by your dental records.
Thanks for taking the time to read this. David