The difference between a yoga position and a fentanyl jag

Me and Big Lips Bruno got to the dog park first thing this morning, due to the late summer heat wave. If I don't get the big boy out in the cool of the early morning, he'll get no exercise at all. I noticed on our first lap that the homeless encampment that had sprouted up in the field next door was mostly gone. But a solitary figure 100 yards away caught my eye. Looked like a Muslim at prayer, but he wasn't facing Mecca, so I knew that couldn't be it. By our third or fourth lap he had shifted somewhat, into what looked like a possible yoga position. He maintained that for some time, but by our sixth lap he was on all fours. By the tenth lap he was standing up! Alas, one lap later he was down on his knees again. Five laps after that, he was standing bent over with his pants down. Next lap, back to square one but now bare-assed and tangled up in his trousers. That's around the time me and Bruno headed out. After 45 minutes of watching this lost soul try to stand up, I wonder if he ever succeeded?

Real time vs. screen time

That’s quite a budget-cum-propaganda exercise Agent Frida unleashed yesterday. Sure, there was some run-of-the-mill empty promises. The “experts” have apparently noticed housing starts haven’t kept pace with population growth for at least a quarter century. It boggles the mind how many millions have been spent studying the matter. My hunch is experts will still be studying the matter ten years from now. The experts can’t figure out how to get clean water to Indigenous communities, and they’ve been studying that one for at least fifty years. Don’t hold your breath waiting for an affordable place to live. But where Agent Frida truly broke new ground was in her assertion that the tyrant Putin needs to go. This was her prelude to the announcement that the Ukraine military will henceforth be partially funded out of Canada’s military budget. Eight billion fresh funding for the CAF over five years. That’s 1.6 billion annually, and you can bet most of that is weighted towards the end of that five year projection. If the half billion is earmarked for Ukraine’s immediate military needs, that means most of our increased military budget in the immediate future is for the benefit of Ukraine, not the CAF. But what the heck… if we can help the plucky Ukrainians stop the Rooskies in Ukraine, we won’t have to fight them on the Plains of Abraham. Meanwhile, back in the real world, the doyenne of the dog park had bad news when me and Bruno showed up this morning. She’s a blunt-spoken old gal. “Some fucking cunt stole the shit-shovel. That’s gotta be about as fucking low as you can go.” That is bad news. Not every dog poop lends itself to pick-up with one of those poo-bags they conveniently leave at the gate. I’ve used that shovel myself when Bruno has had maybe too much fruits and vegetables and KFC the previous day. Anyway, after that somewhat abrupt welcome, me and the Big Boy enjoyed a happy hour of me walking around in circles, and him cavorting with his canine friends. On her PR mission to Kyiv today, President of the EU Princess von der Leyen announced she and PM Fluffy would be co-hosting a fundraiser for the benefit of Ukraine. I’ll be pitching in for a new shit shovel instead.

Bruno Report; dog park edition

If you've followed the Bruno Reports, you'll know there've been some issues. Like his penchant for wanting to kill other dogs.

We flagged that as a nasty character trait early on. I've been dutifully taking him to the Owen Sound off-leash dog park for months now, hoping he picks up some social skills.

I've had mixed results, but we seem to be trending in the right direction. He left a poor first impression on a dog park regular, Lilly, on his very first visit.

Lilly is, I think, mostly a standard poodle. She used to, in the aftermath of that first encounter, bark for the entire time Bruno was in the park, and wouldn't get anywhere near him.

That eventually got whittled down to a welcome bark, mutual butt-sniffs, and sauntering around the park together.

So I know we're making progress.

Today we arrive at the park and there's nobody there but an old dude with a "rat-terrier cross."

Penny.

I had no idea there was such a creature. Looks like a terrier, but it's the size of a rat. It's half the size of our cat, Doublewide.

I've got the big boy on leash, and I'm holding on tight, because this could turn real ugly real fast. 

Penny wouldn't be more than a mouthful for Bruno.

Buddy doesn't seem concerned.

"Let him off, just let him off! She'll tune him up in no time."

So I did.

And so she did.

She, half the size of an average cat, bared her teeth and growled at my 150 pound mastiff. Whereupon he immediately fell to the ground in total submission.

Obviously, she doesn't know she's little, and he doesn't know he's twenty times bigger.

And then they embarked on the most enthusiastic romp Bruno has ever had at the dog park!