Amy Farrah Fowler, Ph.D.
Yes, another one.
This one was part of a litter of semi-feral kittens born near my friends’ home.
Archive for the ‘Dogs and Cats’ Category
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And then there was “Shamy”
2013
06.12
06.12
The Anniversary Present
2013
02.19
02.19
I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream
Ben and Jerry’s | The Loop, St. Louis
Last year, The Coach bought me a new Keurig coffee maker for Valentine’s Day. This year, I gave him a trip to St. Louis to return “Farticus” the Bulldog to my sister. I’m not sure which one of us got the better present. I suspect that The Coach did. During the six months that Spartacus visited E’ville, he managed to:
Eat two electric blanket cords;
Eat an entire tiki torch;
Eat all of the toys my sister sent with him;
Break his original kennel;
Barf up a toy, a rubber band, money, and a binder clip;
Chew the corners off my red coffee table;
Bit a chunk out of a French door;
Chew up the corner of one of the new back steps; and
Break the back door (although The Coach may have been involved).
He also ate all of Lady Bird’s toys, had to go to the vet to have his eye fixed after getting in a fight with Birdie, and left bruises on my hands where he tried to rough-house a bit too much. He snored and slobbered and farted. He terrified Clara and she took to hiding upstairs and, later, in the dining room (which is now tricked out with its very own litter box).
Spartacus and The Coach
In a more cuddly moment
And yet, Spartacus could be quite charming in his own way. He was the smartest dog in his obedience school class. He rides in the car better than our dogs do. He was remarkably good in public. Everywhere we went, the dog was treated like a rock star. When he was sleepy, he could be cuddly.
Most importantly, he did not break my TV set.*
So Saturday, we loaded up the dog, his kennel, and two bags of his gear (re: puppy pad, blankets, a new toy) and drove him over to St. Louis. The dog didn’t even look twice at us once he saw my nephew standing there. After chatting for a while, my sister and her crew left for their three-hour drive to the bowels of Missouri, the dog loaded into the hatch of the car. By all accounts, the dog is happy: he’s been to the park, he’s snored my oldest nephew out of bed, and he totally destroyed the new toy.
As for us, we went to The Loop, ate noodles and ice cream, bought some Starbucks and drove home to our own menagerie. Anticlimactic, I know, but for the sake of full disclosure we did have a fancy Valentine’s Day meal earlier in the week.
The Critter Update: Clara is moving around the house again, although she needs a good shave and a shower – in her stressed out state, she chewed herself raw again. Clancy is still banned from the living room (due to his 16 ½ year old bladder, not dog fights). Lady Bird has returned to alpha dog status, wedging herself between the humans on the couch.
So, Spartacus, while we love you, we are relieved that you have returned to your own family. I suspect you’re relieved too: less time in the kennel, more time sleeping in a human bed, and no other animals to compete for affection. You can always visit for the holidays, but please, leave your teeth at home.
Take Your Bulldog to Work Day
2012
12.18
12.18
My AA is now in love … with a bulldog.
We probably shouldn’t tell her new hubby.
Happy (Belated) Halloween
2012
11.02
11.02
Carson: The Compliant Cat
I tried to dress Spartacus in this outfit.
It did not turn out well.
I Might Have Found a Use for the Dog
2012
10.05
10.05
I’m not quite sure where he found the old trowel.
Gardening season is over, my friends, even though I’ll be in my Master Gardening class through December. According to the local weatherman, we’re expecting a frost this weekend. Usually, I would take this with a grain of salt; we live in the city and our frosts tend to come later than those folks living out in the sticks. But, given the fact that my freezer is full of salsa, tomatoes, tomatoes & okra, and tomatoes & eggplant, I decided that it was time to dismantle Audrey II.* I’ll have to can more salsa — both red and green — to use up the massive basket of tomatoes that is now sitting in my basement, away from the prying jaws of Spartacus.
Just so you know: green tomatoes and bulldogs don’t mix. This dog let out a massive fart earlier this evening — a fart to rival anything I have ever smelled before. It was enough to clear the room. But, I digress.
We’re still getting tomatoes from the CSA as well. (I’ve had to revert back to canning — and two days ago, I made a tomato based meatball soup just to keep from pulling out the canner again) I’m telling you, I won’t have to buy canned tomatoes for a very, very long time. Plus, we’re back to fall and winter crops — greens and sweet potatoes, radishes and arugula, and squash, squash, squash. At least the flurry of eggplant is now over: I was getting mighty sick of baba ganoush.
The CSA runs another 5-6 weeks, then we’ll have to start in our our stash of kale pesto, peach jam, and pickles. And then it will be time to start planning next year’s little garden beds. I have grand plans for expanding my garden vertically and for adding some fruit along our fenceline where the dead apple tree used to be located. I was going to buy both a quince and a paw-paw tree this fall, but life got hectic with travel and research and foster dog sitting, so now I’ll have to wait for next year. But first — I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the drought — and the fact that Spartacus sat in the bed — didn’t do too much damage to my asparagus; it’s been in the ground for two years, so I’m expecting to get some yummy tender shoots next year.
The Many Sins of Spartacus
2012
10.03
10.03
I woke up to pee in my office.
Shit on my bedroom floor.
He destroyed the old tiki torch.
He tried to eat the landscape material.
I left the room to stir the soup — and he drank my glass of wine.
He tried to eat Sheldon and Pyewacket and Carson.
He bite me – as in, grabbed my arm and would not let go.
He destroyed his rubber chicken.
He would not be deterred from chewing on my coffee table.
He just tried to make off with my dress shoe.
And, he tried a repeat of last night’s bill box debacle.
I am told by my family that this is good training for adopting children.
Seriously? Kids chew on tables and shoes and boxes and tiki torches?
I’m not sure we’re going to make it to Thanksgiving with this dog in the house.
I am now sure that I am a cat person
2012
09.27
09.27
My day started with the 16 year old dog peeing down the front of my robe as I was trying to get past the bulldog to put him outside. It went downhill from there: the bulldog pooped in the house (twice), tried to bite me (four times), and got into a fight with Birdie before I left for work. Sat through a meeting, tried to clean out the over 200 emails in my inbox, held open lab, dealt with all sorts of fires with the ongoing applied research project. Had my picture taken with the mayor. Came home to pick tomatoes. Broke up three more fights between Birdie and the bulldog (over the couch, over a dropped tomato, over Birdie’s toy). Ended up kenneling Birdie, only to break up another fight between the bulldog and sweet ol’ Clancy.
That obedience class? It can’t start soon enough for me.
Spartacus
2012
09.25
09.25
I am Spartacus!
I burp and fart and snore.
For those of you who were curious about my post about the furry new friend … meet my sister’s English Bulldog, Spartacus. The Coach and I are fostering him for the next little while. So far, we have learned that he burps, farts, snores, slobbers, drools, and jumps in the shower with you. That’s right: this morning, I showered with a bulldog between my feet. Spartacus is only six months old, weighs 39 pounds, and tries to shoplift dog treats at Petsmart. Fortunately for him, the Petsmart employee loves bulldogs, so he got off with a pardon and an appointment for obedience school orientation two weeks from now. Spartacus seems to be a little more high maintenance than the Jack Russells: we will need to clean his wrinkles and monitor his food intake or else he will become a fat, yeasty mess. Spartacus has already taken to the elixer of both foot jam (The Coach’s, not mine) and ear wax (mine, not The Coach’s). The good news is that once I hooked the seatbelt through his new harness, he was a very good passenger in the car. Andd, I have to give a shout out to Lady Bird (currently confined to the living room with her dog food since Spartacus eats special “won’t make me fart” dog food) who has already trained Spartacus to stay off the bed. As for Clancy, well, he just kind of rolled his little brown eyes and begged to be put in his playpen so that he wouldn’t get humped by a bulldog. One day, Spartacus will go back to my nephews, but for now, he’s having a bit of a “Come to Jesus” moment.
As for the clowder of cats: They just don’t care … and that is what makes cats so damned awesome. 
Not This Sheldon Cooper
2012
06.12
06.12
Not This Sheldon Cooper!
I get to see the “real” Sheldon Cooper tonight.
I am so very, very excited!
Even My Cat Likes the CSA
2012
05.20
05.20
I wasn’t home three seconds before Pye started trying to eat the leeks.
He was evicted right after I took this picture.