When it comes to educating the next generation, cats and dogs have drastically different teaching styles. Or so the Internet tells me.
Two videos were posted recently about young animals learning to climb down stairs.
Let’s take a look at how dogs teach their young. Beware: this video contains extreme adorableness.
Disco has a talent for inhaling his food. One that I’ve futilely tried to discourage over the years. Dropbox, it turns out, has a similar talent.
I had been wondering why it was so difficult to get my netbook (which is old and has less memory than a twig) to run Scrivener. Then I discovered the reason was that Dropbox was running in the background, eating up more memory than my poor netbook could spare.
This screenshot is from my desktop, which can handle five-figure memory processes. On my netbook, anything above five figures has crash potential.
I never expected to have any particular animal be part of my life for more than a decade. In all honesty, I was expecting to write this memorial during college at the very latest. I didn’t anticipate that my very first cat would be with me for nearly twenty years.
I’m twenty-seven years old.
Frisky, my very first cat (who I picked out, not my parents), passed away today at the ripe old age of 19. I’ll be throwing together a memorial blog post with more pictures later on tonight. Stay tuned if you care to see a super-cute photo of this cat squeezing himself into a Barbie tent.
In the meantime, here’s a picture of him with my mom, who has been taking care of him ever since I left for college.
RIP Frisky. You had a full and happy life, but I’ll still miss you.
Glasses are a recent development for me. Unlike my parents and my sister, I don’t need them to see straight. There’s no danger of me colliding with a mail box or mistaking a bush for a person if I walk out of the house without them on. I wouldn’t be able to read a computer screen without developing an obnoxious headache, but I otherwise don’t need them to see.
As a new glasses wearer, I’m discovering that there are more than a few downsides to relying on two pieces of glass for proper eyesight.
A steamy predicament.
I have nothing of particular, or even non-particular, significance to say today. (Though now I wonder what significance looks like at the particle level…)
So here’s a pic explaining why my heater has to work overtime to heat the second-floor loft in my apartment, and why any engineer looking for an efficient heat sponge should consider lining their engine with cats.
There are innumerable obstacles that can block the flow of brilliant words from a writer’s brain to the page. Lack of caffeine, the presence of a crying child, sheer laziness.
But I get cat block.
That’s right. Cat block.
I think my return to Chapel Hill would have been more heartfelt if I didn’t have a cat throwing a discordant yowlfest in the back of my car.
To be fair to Disco, he slept through most of the trip. Took him a few hours to catch on that this wasn’t a trip to the vet. And when he finally figured it out, oh boy did he let me know.
If you were wondering at all, I’m still alive. Tired, sore, and so utterly sick of staring at highway that my eyes are requesting a transfer, but alive.
This is the point of the move at which I wish teleportation and/or interdimensional travel was possible. As you can see in the photo below, I’m in that weird, inbetween stage of moving where most of my stuff is in boxes, but I can barely move around inside my apartment without tripping on something.