bimo: (Coop)
After several months of enjoying the advantages of undisturbed mealtimes, clean floors and spotless, hairfree clothing, my dad and I had finally come to the conclusion that all these strange and unfamiliar comforts were really nothing compared to the fun of becoming dog owners again. So, in early March, we phoned up our old breeder, asked him for recommendations and went on dog search.

The puppy we chose is a little male with reddish spots; a relaxed, sunny temper and a strong interest in all kinds of twigs and flowers. Being the only boy amongst six elegant and agile sisters is probably just one of the factors which led to his slightly chubby physique, since he also seems to have a natural talent for understanding the nature of dog food and chewing sticks. Dad and I had met him just for about two minutes, when we nicknamed him "Moppel-Hoppel".

Finding a good "real name" however, proved to take a bit longer. After a brainstorming session and about half an hour of browsing several baby name sites on the internet, I finally came up with a perfectly good namelist, including classic dog names (Dusty), english boys' names (Percy, Seymour, Winston) and a several names of a more fannish origin.

Not wanting to get the reputation of a narrow-minded name dictator I then left the final decision up to my dad, and even though it's probably hard to believe, it was really him, who picked "Wesley". Not me.

At the moment it looks like the little fellow is going stick with the nicer, more innocent side of his namesake *g*. When [ profile] cavendish (who was so kind to drive me all the way up to Dülmen) and I brought the thirteen weeks old pup home yesterday afternoon, Wesley spent most of the time exploring his new home and garden and also behaved perfectly well over the night. (Which is quite an achievement considering how strange his new surroundings must seem to him!)

Wesley and me on the day we chose him )
bimo: (Default)
On Monday morning, we had to put the Cocker Spaniel to sleep, since he was unable to recover from another disturbance of the blood circulation in his brain.

I don't really know why, but there is something about the nature of the internet that made me want to put up a bunch of pictures of him to tell the world how wonderful and absolutely unique he was. How sweet and friendly, how funny, how amazingly creative and persistent whenever it came to shameless food stealing. What a remarkable swimmer he was and how much he adored tennis balls though otherwise completely unsporty...

Quirin, 01.04.1991 - 03.11.2003 )
bimo: (DRD_beware)
Looking at the numerous great entries that others have written over the last couple of weeks makes me feel somewhat guilty. I know, I haven't exactly been the world's most communicative LJ-er lately; and also not exactly the world's most communicative e-mail correspondent, either, I fear, since I still owe [personal profile] selenak a rather longish reply containing various Farscape musings and also loads of positive feedback on one of her latest works ( a clear case of "read it, loved it"; once I started, I was completely unable to put it aside).

Right now, the list of topics that I let roll past me without actually jumping on the train is probably longer than my Dad's weekly shopping list, so I'll better just give you the highlights:

Hopping back and forth between channels one night, I discovered the dirty secrets of Grand Guignol theatre.

On the brighter side of the moon, there is the heart-warming, family-orientated fairy tale about the atheist girl who went out searching for a TV show she could hate with a passion, but ended up finding a TV show that she actually enjoyed so much that she will probably continue to watch it on a regular basis. (Nope, I haven't lost my mind. Apparently, even the folks at Television Without Pity love Joan of Arcadia. Besides its obivous "God issues", it is a pretty solid drama show. Nice writing that is at times even witty. Likeable characters, a refreshing lack of priggishness.)

Last Friday bore a lot of potential for a nice socio-cultural entry about my friendly, conservative neighbourhood newspaper's (the Rheinische Post ) desperate attempts to deal with the increasing popularity of Halloween, but right when I was about to start, my ageing Cocker Spaniel suffered another one of his "dead-as-a-doormat" attacks. A close call this time, as the attacks appear to get worse. I'm so glad the little grey fellow made it through the day alive and is doing much better now.


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