Spray Bottles

plastic bottle with a sprayer making mistAlex Terrgi here. Because I complained about being hot, my human thought she’d better help me cool down. So she took a thing called a spray bottle, filled it with cold water, and sprayed the water all over me.

I gotta admit it felt pretty good, so I tried to run outside real fast so I could roll in the dirt. Except she wouldn’t let me go outside because she is afraid of mud. (Humans are weird – what’s scary about mud?) So instead I rolled on the rug. Better than nothing.

Spray bottles are okay, but I really think she should just make it start raining.

Ants

DisorganizedToday my haiku is from August 26th of my book A Haiku Book of Days for the Happily Disorganized and Others of Jumbled Mind, one of a 7-book series. The haiku topic for today is “Ants”:

anxiety ants
patrol the streets of your mind
red bellies flashing

It’s Haiku Friday again. For the past twenty years or so, it has been my practice to write one haiku every day. Every Friday I share a haiku here, about whatever topic I happen to choose. I invite you to write a haiku on this topic too, and share it with me and the readers of this blog. Just write it in the Comments below. The only rules are: 1) your haiku must be about the named topic; 2) you must follow the 5-7-5 syllable format; 3) no obscenities or hate (I will delete those). That’s it.

If you’re interested in the story of how The Haiku Book of Days series came to be, check out my previous blog post here. You can purchase this book on Amazon here.  

Pokemon Go Home

27541305793_f19c00519a_zThe other day I went to my writers’ group meeting, as I do almost every week. Lots of good writers there, with good ideas, encouragement, and support for each other. Also laughter about the absurdities of our profession. I’m a big fan of writers’ groups, because as we all know, writing can be lonely at times. Isolating even. It’s good to be with people of like mind and similar issues.

On this particular day I came a little early and there were only four other members of the group sitting around the table. They were deep in discussion when I arrived. Serious involved expressions on their faces, interspersed with loud barks of laughter and snorts. Even some hand waving. I tried to catch a clue as to what they were so animated about, but for at least ten minutes I was totally at a loss.

“I’m tired of catching rabbits, I should trade.”
“Are you saving your evolving?”
“You should always wait for your eggs to hatch, you’ll get double.”
“OMG there’s a wheedle!”
“Wheedles suck!”
“Rat attacks …”

The light suddenly went on when one of them said, “Pokemon Go is the best exercise ever. I figure in a year’s time the world will be filled with thin geeks with muscular bodies.”

My writers’ group has been hijacked by Pokemon Go! Sigh. Perhaps this is an escape from today’s political trauma drama. I hope both go away soon. I need to get back to the real world inside my head.

Pirates

DisorganizedToday my haiku is from August 19th of my book A Haiku Book of Days for the Happily Disorganized and Others of Jumbled Mind, one of a 7-book series. The haiku topic for today is “Pirates”:

blinded by profits
stupidity plus greed kills
pirates are not cool

It’s Haiku Friday again. For the past twenty years or so, it has been my practice to write one haiku every day. Every Friday I share a haiku here, about whatever topic I happen to choose. I invite you to write a haiku on this topic too, and share it with me and the readers of this blog. Just write it in the Comments below. The only rules are: 1) your haiku must be about the named topic; 2) you must follow the 5-7-5 syllable format; 3) no obscenities or hate (I will delete those). That’s it.

If you’re interested in the story of how The Haiku Book of Days series came to be, check out my previous blog post here. You can purchase this book on Amazon here.    

Hot Dogs

disneyland-1180954_1280Alex Terrgi here. According to my human, I was born in a place called Los Angeles. Now I live in a place close to Seattle. So when it was really really hot the other day my human told me that where we live is much cooler than where I was born, so I should be glad I’m lucky to live here and not complain by rolling my eyes and panting. She says watching me makes her feel even hotter.

I think she’s full of hot air, if you want to know the truth. (That’s a word joke.) I don’t believe Los Angeles is hotter than here, because if it was all the dogs would be dead. And if all the dogs in Los Angeles were dead, then Los Angeles itself would shrivel up and die too, And just a few days ago my human told me her granddaughter was in Disneyland on a vacation, and then she said Disneyland is close to Los Angeles. So it can’t be hotter than here because no place can survive without dogs. Get my reasoning? I’m a pretty smart dog, you know.

Also a very hot one.

Money

DisorganizedToday my haiku is from August 12th of my book A Haiku Book of Days for the Happily Disorganized and Others of Jumbled Mind, one of a 7-book series. The haiku topic for today is “Money”:

money is not real
it was thought up long ago
and became a god

It’s Haiku Friday again. For the past twenty years or so, it has been my practice to write one haiku every day. Every Friday I share a haiku here, about whatever topic I happen to choose. I invite you to write a haiku on this topic too, and share it with me and the readers of this blog. Just write it in the Comments below. The only rules are: 1) your haiku must be about the named topic; 2) you must follow the 5-7-5 syllable format; 3) no obscenities or hate (I will delete those). That’s it.

If you’re interested in the story of how The Haiku Book of Days series came to be, check out my previous blog post here. You can purchase this book on Amazon here.   

 

New Words

bully sticksLast Monday I ghostblogged for my dog Alex so he could complain about a treat he did not appreciate, called a “bully stick.” He thought it meant I was trying to make him eat something nasty. (Turns out this might be true, but it certainly wasn’t deliberate.)

I had a different take on the meaning of Bully Stick. After Alex refused to eat it, I wondered why. It looked like leather, so I thought it was some kind of rawhide. That night, when my daughter and son-in-law came to dinner, I told them about Alex hiding the bully stick and asked if they knew what bully sticks were made of.

My daughter just shrugged, but my son-in-law spoke up. “Bull pizzle,” he said.

“Huh?” I had never heard the word pizzle before, and since I am a highly-educated word-person, this kinda bothered me. But my son-in-law is a knowledgeable guy not given to silly jokes, so I believed him and asked him what it meant. “It means penis,” he said.

“Oh come on,” I said. So I got the package of bully sticks out of the cupboard and read the ingredients. Sure enough, it said: “Ingredients: Bull pizzle.” Nothing else, just that.

My daughter spoke up then. “But it’s over a foot long!” she said. She and I looked at each other.

“OMG the poor cows,” I said.

Later I googled the word “pizzle” and sure enough it’s an old English/Germanic word and really does mean the penis of an animal. I guess you’re never too old or too educated to learn new words.

Games

DisorganizedToday my haiku is from August 5th of my book A Haiku Book of Days for the Happily Disorganized and Others of Jumbled Mind,, one of a 7-book series. The haiku topic for today is “Games”:

playing at bizness
a game all about money
for the ruling class

It’s Haiku Friday again. For the past twenty years or so, it has been my practice to write one haiku every day. Every Friday I share a haiku here, about whatever topic I happen to choose. I invite you to write a haiku on this topic too, and share it with me and the readers of this blog. Just write it in the Comments below. The only rules are: 1) your haiku must be about the named topic; 2) you must follow the 5-7-5 syllable format; 3) no obscenities or hate (I will delete those). That’s it.

If you’re interested in the story of how The Haiku Book of Days series came to be, check out my previous blog post here. You can purchase this book on Amazon here.

B.S.

bully sticksAlex Terrgi here. Sometimes my human gives me treats. Sometimes the treats taste good so I eat them up pretty fast. Other times the treats taste nasty so I hide them instead. Such was the case for something she called a “bully stick.” This is a long skinny piece of hard-as-rock stuff made out of what looks like skin and smells like old poop. (Unlike new poop, which has a glorious smell.)

So she gave me this bully stick thing the other day, just as she was going out the door and not taking me with her. This was a weak attempt to make me feel better about being left behind. It did not work.

I took one lick of the bully stick because I am a fair-minded dog – perhaps the bully stick tasted okay despite its smell. But no such luck. So I gingerly picked up the b.s. and took it into my human’s bedroom. I jumped up on the bed, taking the b.s. with me. I pawed at the pillow and buried the BS underneath it. Then I pawed the pillow back so the BS was hidden.

Then I laughed my ass off when she came home and found it. I bet she didn’t like the smell either.

P.S. Bully sticks are not made out of poop. It’s even worse than that. Google “bully stick” if you don’t believe me.