In 2002 we ran away from Illinois where we were born and raised, and started a new life in SW Florida. This blog is about me (an eccentric old artist), ROM (my Real Old Man), Isabella (our neurotic Standard Poodle) and Emmy (our crazy snake killing Jack Russell Terrier). Oh- and the neighborhood old people. Life is good in Florida!

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Sunday, July 31, 2011

I'm Bored So I Shall Rant...

ROM isn't feeling well this weekend, so we're having a quiet weekend at home. I was entertaining myself on Twitter, tweeting nonsense with friends about fluffers, sister wives (I want one), crazy people on Twitter, and discussed a blog of riddles about all the tweet wars. And then that damn Twitter decided I had tweeted too much and threw me in Twitter jail. What kind of social networking site punishes you for being too social? I tweet with a lot of funny people, often at the same time, and we have lively naughty chats.  So what am supposed to do? Only respond some and not others? That's rude! I can't ignore people or hurt their feelings. So I respond to everyone and end up in jail. For those who don't know, if you send more than 100 tweets per hour they lock your account for an hour or two. Which leads me to why I'm writing a rant. Because I'm bored and have nothing to do at the moment, and I can't fricking tweet. Bet you thought the rant was about Twitter jail.  Nope this is whole different rant... I've taken my Ambien so who knows if it will be coherent...

Most of my life has pretty much revolved around dogs. I feel in love with dogs as a young girl and never outgrew it. I love all dogs, but have a passion for well bred purebreds. I was six when I got my first purebred. I ran a koolaid and lemonade stand all summer and made enough money to buy a dachshund puppy from my neighbor's litter. I named him Popeye and loved that dog.

As an adult  I've raised many litters of puppies, trained them, and traveled all over showing them. I even learned how to do artificial insemination- the collecting part was kind of gross.  Even went on to open a dog grooming shop and taught obedience classes. I had been working in mental health/social services but found I enjoyed working with dogs more than people. Anyway, getting to my rant...

In our little neighborhood there are no sidewalks, so we walk the dogs along the street which happens to be blacktop. Do you have any idea how hot blacktop gets in the Florida sun? Hot! Very Hot! Twice this week, in the middle of the day I've seen these old coots walking their dogs in the middle of the day. One was a little MinPin that was whining pulling back on the lead, not wanting to walk. The woman with him was yelling at him to keep up and yanking on his leash. I couldn't stand it anymore so walked out to the street and explained to her how hot the pavement was. She thought I was crazy until I convinced her take her shoe off and feel it. Then she believed me, and picked the little guy up and carried him back home.

The other time it was the guy that lives down the street. He's a big guy, retired cop, and his dog is a black lab/shepard mix. The dog is all black and at least 40 lbs over weight. The dog is so fat he's never a perky walker, but in 95 degree heat with 80% humidity he was doing a slow shuffle. And I know the black top had to be burning his paws. I tried to mention how hot the pavement is during the day, but you can't tell this guy anything. He's one of those that knows it all. Lucky for the dog, the guy's ample girth made it a short walk. What drives me crazy is that people don't even consider the comfort, or in this case discomfort of their companions.  Makes me wonder how attached the average owner is to their dog. So that's pretty much my rant- stop walking your dogs on hot pavement during the hottest time of the day, ya dumb asses!

1 comment:

  1. Jeez, you'd think that would be common sense - if the ground is too hot for human feet, wouldn't the same go for dog's feet?! Enjoyed your rant, ROH, and watch out for those ambien!

    ~Nohohousewife

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