So that's what I should call it

Police in Raleigh, N, Calinky, just hate whores. (If you don't believe me, Google.)

So word that some of the cops are renting horizontal girl time embarrassed the chief until he found just exactly the right words to characterize Officer Friendly's little lapses. He explained  that

"...administrative violations may have occurred and that they stemmed from voluntary interactions between a small number of officers and non-departmental individuals," 

Reminds  me I need to take New Dog to the vet to confirm that she's been immunized against voluntary interactions.

Weather-driven

This  batch of Alberta is driving me indoors, probably for the entire day and more. Only the messy pile of firewood around the burner gives me cause to smile after looking at the thermometer (+2) and knowing this is about as good as it will get for at least  three days.

I suppose this is as good a time as any to catch up on paperwork and get this cluttered cabin shaped up, but depressing self-knowledge suggests that the Master of Camp J will more likely  start looking for a book which demands reading. Probably won't have any visitors anyway, especially fussy ones. They'll stay home and dust.

The other alternative is to (expensively) fire up the Knipco out in the shop and start repairing Ruger's work on the .22/.45.

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The efforts to  locate the owner of Little Miss No-Name have yielded no results. We'll give it another day or two, then start dreaming up a name for her. I've been considering "Sarah." When a liberal chick asks, I can say she's named for the Brady lady. Otherwise Palin.

Naaah, probably not.

So far it's just a one-night stand

It's hard to capture the heart of a jaded old roue, and Little Miss No-Name here hasn't actually done that. Quite yet.

Heavily armed after the Armstrong loophole, I was a mile from K's country home, on lonesome gravel running though a wildlife area.  At the top of the next hill she stood in the middle  of the road, then politely retreated to the ditch as we neared. Something didn't look right. We stopped. She approached, cringing slightly but, before long, accepting an ear scratch. No question she was cold, hungry, thirsty, and lonesome, so we bundled her to K's house and began the usual found-a-dog calls and net posts. We flipped to see who would board her. I lost. She's here and demonstrating that's she's willing to be a Good Dog in return for chow, a soft place to nap, and a bit of affection.


Time will tell, though I suspect a dump. The bastards.

She's several months old and doesn't pee in the house. Forced to guess, I'd say a lab/weimaraner cross. Actually, they can be reasonably good bird dogs.

Invasion

This is about a third of them, all I was able to get in a grab shot in the rain. A pair with their offspring wandering  the front yard isn't unusual, but a  whole goose neighborhood decided to picnic here this morning.

Offa my lawn you tall, noisy jerk

Mr. Turtle needs to thank the turtle gods for my still adequate eyesight and reflexes. He came within inches of being the late Mr. Turtle by way of a whirling mower blade.

He is instead internet famous now, and I am taking bookings for his report on a  near-death experience. Discounts to the trade and all libertarian oriented groups.

Franklin had a point

They come around in flocks fairly often, but a solo appearance is unusual.

He's a handsome fellow, so I offer the picture even though it shows the world I am still shamefully behind in yard care

Penis Pants

Things you learn from opening links on Facebook.

Travis McGee once remarked in a discussion of mortality something very close to, "Every year there is less to lose."

He was talking about pollution, I think, but certainly pollution is a term broad enough to cover knitted members and silken scrota, all proudly on public display.

Nature in the raw

If, late at night, nose in a book, you get hungry and burn some popcorn by pushing the wrong microwave button, and if you toss the sorry mess into the front yard near the big window, why, then, the next morning a beautiful downy woodpecker may retrieve a large kernel and perch a brief moment on your window sill in what I assume to be a gesture of thanks.

Little b******d won't hang around long enough for a picture though.