So the thing that my blog lives on is called blogger. Well, actually, it lives on my server. Which isn't actually my server, but Bev and Steve's server, but is actually I think a server which lives somewhere top secret and fireproof. Not their shed in their backyard where their office actually is. The internet is all about the trans world cyber location baby. But the thing that makes it a blog is the blogger and that is what was broken.
When it was broken, I know my readers were worried! Why is there no Team Small Dog blog? I was doing due diligence internet blog research to see why it wasn't working and if I could fix it. And I entered the realm of the blog help groups. And everyone else's was broken too, so I didn't feel so bad. But some of the bloggers in there, boy were they worried about their poor readers and how not feeding their ADDICTION to the blogs was going to end the world! It was bad. People freaking out.
You guys don't freak out right?
I just can't get too upset from a broken internet. I think the days of the dotcom and the TOTAL FREAKING out that went on when something was broken cured me of that. Yes, i do feel a winge of concern but I just cannot bring myself to a freak out panic insanity. The internet gets broken, and somehow it has to get fixed. And it is always better if someone else fixes it that isn't me.
We had a dirt night last night. It was ok. Ruby was slow. Otterpop was fast. Hobbes was fast. He hit a couple bars, and my goal is NO BARS with him. Not sure why Ruby was slow. Could it be sitting in a boring dog pen for like 7 hrs straight then sitting in the car for 2 hrs then having to come out and run? Poor dogs. Some days it just sucks to be my dog. Slow dogs and bar hitting dogs are a bigger problem to me than broken internet. But I have about the same drive to fix it. Maybe someone else will fix it? Please magically speed this dog up, fix this one's broken teeter and make this one not hit a bar.
The thing with the darn dogs is that it's sort of like my sheetrock. You have to fix it yourself. And if you don't, there is half plastered sheetrock just sitting there and a construction site and until you get off your ass and do it, it's just not going to get much better.
2 comments:
"Poor dogs. Some days it just sucks to be my dog."
I think it would be fun and entertaining to be your dog since you are always doing interesting things, often involving destruction of real property. I wonder if your dogs sit around admiring how *big* the objects are that *you* run around with (toilets, pumpkins), and the fun games you invent involving pigs, or sometimes just out of thin blue air, for which you create special new words "earthquake, earthquake"! I think your dogs have it really good!
This is true! This makes me feel better! They might have to sit around and be bored some of the time but we do have Activities! And we love to destroy property! They love seeing me get the blue destruction bar out that means a wall or a ceiling is going away and there will be yelling! And they do get to go to the beach too.
In the old days, they did have a whole ranch to themselves to run around on all day and either sit on the deck and sleep (not unlike sleeping in a dog pen) but also free acess to knocking over garbage cans, hanging out with my small black pony (the only one they thought was their people and they would go in her paddock) or just following me around or sitting obsessively outside the ring and staring (Otterpop thought she helped me by staring down horses when I was riding and was at beck and call if someone was bad and ready to get 'em). They had nice jobs. They went on trail rides.
Even though they are still ranch dogs they have kind of a sucky way of being ranch dogs but it could be a lot worse. This is all thanks to the new insurance world of dog liabilty on ranches! Thanks insurance guys! Please don't sue me!
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