gwax's rumblings

We’ve been teaching Baldr that destroying watermelons is a good thing. “Why?” you might ask and the answer is clear: because Baldr attacking watermelons is awesome. On account of awesomeness and the fact that we actually had two watermelons lying around, there are two sets of watermelon destruction involved. Proof follows.

(Matt helped a little with the second watermelon)

Internet, meet Baldr. Sorry it took me so long to introduce you.

Post title plagiarized from Riad

Yesterday, I went and picked up my new puppy. My puppy is a purebred Saint Bernard with strong champion ancestry from Conifer Creek Farm in Rough and Ready, CA.

After a great deal of consideration, I have decided to name my puppy Baldr, after the Norse God commonly associated with light and goodness. I had previously been considering Heimdallr and Odin but Heimdallr sounded too cumbersome and the breeder, a very friendly man by the name of David McKague, related to me the story of a Saint Bernard named Odin who had been nothing but trouble. As much as I like to be contrarian and see Baldr as a bit like the Jesus of the Norse, it really is a good name. Baldr was often called Baldr the Good for a reason and I think that it’s a very respectable and good sounding name for a dog.

I will post pictures as soon as soon as I get an xD card for the camera a friend gave me or am able to get someone else to take some pictures for me.

I am very saddened to report that my family dog, Browder, had to be put down. Browder was a yellow Labrador and had reached the ripe age of 13. Browder developed cancer in his abdomen about a year ago, which he recovered from after surgery. A month or so ago, the cancer came back and it was, once again, removed, though it was more invasive this time around. Sadly, it was not fully removed and, about a week ago, it started to make a really strong push forward. The cancer rather thoroughly overwhelmed poor Browder and he had to be put down yesterday.

When I last saw Browder, in early May, he had just had his most recent surgery and he seemed quite a bit more lively than I’d seen him be in years. It is my belief that, after the last surgery, he knew that he was on the way out and figured that he might as well live things up a bit with the time he had left. I’m so glad that I managed to get back east and see him one last time.

I am really going to miss that lazy old layabout. I remember so many times with him; it’s hard to accept that he isn’t anymore. I remember when he was young and would bring us things he found; he was an excellent retriever in spite of us never teaching him how. He once came home with a live baby owl gingerly held in his mouth; he caused the owl no physical harm, though I’m certain the shock ruined the poor little bird; he brought it in, placed it on the floor and looked at us for approval at the trophy he’d brought us. I remember when my brother, Joseph, was a toddler and he’d climb all over poor Browder, tormenting him as only a toddler can torment a dog; Browder would just lie there, gentle as could be putting up with it all. I remember visiting Tim Jessup place land in Norfolk, CT, taking a Sunfish out on the lake and sailing while Browder chased me around trying desperately to keep up; he wasn’t a big fan of saltwater but he was a fantastic swimmer. Sure he’d steal food sometimes, sure his hair was everywhere, but man was he a good dog.

I can’t write any more, it’s too sad. I’m going to go cry myself to sleep.

I have been inspired by Weebles’ recent friend making to stop talking about getting a dog and actually be proactive in getting a dog. To that end, I have been in contact with a somewhat local breeder of Saint Bernards. I have chosen the Saint Bernard as a breed for a number of reasons, basically boiling down to size and temperament. I want a large dog that can serve as a pack dog for all season hiking/camping trips and can pull me around the city on my skateboard. Additionally, I want a dog that will be chill and maintain his cool in situations ranging from alone in the afternoon to a party with hundreds of people. There are plenty of other reasons but that’s an overview.

Having, as I mentioned, been in contact with a breeder, I have arranged to obtain one of the pups from the next breeding cycles, which will put a Saint Bernard puppy moving in with me sometime during the first week of August. At some point in the not too distant future, I’ll have to start preparing for the puppy but for now I need to come up with a name.

My current front-running name is Heimdallr (after the Norse God) but it’s early enough in the process that I’m willing to accept alternative suggestions. Leave suggestions in the comments.

Something just reminded me of Mr. Tickles and I certainly still miss him.

I hope that my dog doesn’t die for a long time.

Today is a sad day for the world, Mr. Tickles has died. Mr. Tickles was a friendly fish, loved by all who made his acquaintance. To some he was just a fish, to others he was always bigger than the time before, but to me he was my dear friend Tickles.

Tickles, I will remember you fondly for all the amusing times we have had. I will remember how I would sit and watch you swim around. I will remember the time you bit Kurt. I will remember how you would eat guppies with such glee when you were given the opportunity. I will remember how you would watch me at my computer. I will remember how you would swim around so excitedly at feeding time. I will remember how you would change colors so subtlely, confounding me until I realized that you could change colors. I will remember your ability to be constantly larger than you had been before. I will miss you Tickles.

Mr. Tickles was a Tiger Oscar Cichlid and died of a fungal infection this afternoon, Saturday, September 25th 2004, at about 1PM. Mr. Tickles died at the ripe age of 1 year old; he was 9 inches long at the time of his death, far more than the 3-4 inches of when we first met.

I don’t know that I’ve actually gone through the proper introductory things between the two of you, so here goes. Internet, meet Mr. Tickles; Tickles, meet the internet. There, that’s not so bad now is it. I’m sure that you’ll make great friends, afterall you see me at the internet enough Tickles, and you don’t really give a damn about anything internet.

What, no internet, I was not calling you a slut.

No, I won’t take it back because I didn’t actually say it. You really need to calm down internet; it’s not actually all that important.

Ok, fine internet, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, it was not my intention to insinuate that you had loose sexual morals, but you have to admit that you do have a lot of porn.

For the love of monkeys, shut the Hell up internet; this is Tickles’ moment, so just let everyone look at the picture and be happy.

Yesterday I went to PetCo and bought a whole bunch of little fish (~20) and gave them to Mister Tickles. Needless to say, amusement followed as Tickles made a task of hunting and consuming all of the feeder fish.

I am strongly considering getting another fish tank and breeding guppies or some other small fish so that I can keep Tickles in live food.

So, I’m sitting here watching Mr. Tickles do his thing and it occurs to me that fish make for extremely good pets in college. The best thing about fish is the ease of taking care of them. I feed my fish two or three times a day and then every few weeks I have to change some of the water or change the filter. Compare what I have to do to what someone with a dog, cat or rodent has to do. A cat owner has to change the kitty litter frequently, feed the cat, train the cat to use the kitty litter and make sure that the cat never manages to get away. The owner of a dog has to house train it, take it for walks, pay attention to it and so on. Rodents are much closer to fish as far as attention needed to keep them alive, except that their cages need to be cleaned more thoroughly and more frequently.

There is, however, one slight problem with fish, notably, it’s harder to get a fish that’s interesting and has some personality than most other types of animal. The solution to this problem is found in one of two ways: selecting your fish very carefully or getting lucky; I managed to latter. So, as might have been inferred from the beginning of the previous paragraph, Mr. Tickles is my fish. Tickles (as I refer to him when I don’t want to bother with many syllable) is a Tiger Oscar (Astronotus Ocellatus), of the family Cichlidae (the cichlids). The noteworthy thing about Oscars is that they’re large aggressive fish. Right now, Tickles is about 6″-8″ and will grow to about 10″-15″ eventually. His personality would be hard to classify as he’s got quite a bit of it for a fish (I got lucky), but suffice it to say that he’s a rather fun character and I’ve really taken to him.

That Tickles is aggressive and big means some amusing things in the future. Supposedly, his breed of fish will not only eat most things (living or otherwise) but will also eat creatures up to slightly larger than himself. This of course will be great when I get off my lazy ass and hunt down some other fish for him to eat. I would have done so before, but difficulty arises in that many fish carry dangerous parasites and the feeder fish at the local PetCo™ carry fatal ones to oscars. He does eat sushi, leftover Chinese, hotdogs and all sorts of other such things.

All in all, I’m quite fond of Tickles and very glad that I got him.

Oh yeah, this one time he bit Kurt; that was funny.