Stuart posted more Streaky shots.
I don't have a pet. I used to borrow a nice pit bull mix, until Murphy moved to San Francisco. The pig in the cartoon of me was named Susie. Susie lived with my sister in Virginia's Shenandoah Valley and used to enjoy peanut butter and jam sandwiches in the mornings. She would snort outside my sister's trailer door until she received her daily dose. Sadly, Susie is no longer with us, though I don't think it was due to spoiled peanut butter.
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I wish Murphy was here with me now, as I'm feeling a little blue. I'm sure Yancey would offer to put her in a crate and fly her over, but the problem with that is that Murphy would then also be here tomorrow, next week, and next year. Then I'd feel REALLY blue.
I can loan you a cocker spaniel!
Somewhere in my file of Girlfriends Who Were Not Meant To Be there is this story:
I'd gotten a notice from Postal Customs, who'd seized some CDs some record company had sent me, so I went down there to get them. It was in the spring, and as I walked to the customs house I realized it was a "nice day," ie, only raining a little. So after I'd picked up my package, I decided that as long as I was in West Berlin, I should take advantage and do some shopping -- Berlin's best baker isn't far from there, for one thing.
So I took a shortcut through the park behind the RIAS building and there was this stunning, somewhat punkish, woman in her late 30s, just standing there. In one hand she held a leash and, after I'd stopped staring at her, I followed it to its end.
There was a pig with a rhinestone collar snuffling around the fallen leaves. Not one of your boutiquey Vietnamese Pot-Bellied pigs. The kind of pig they turn into Krustenbraten and Teewurst and stuff around these parts.
I looked back at the woman and she had a sort of enigmatic smile on her face, a kind of "can you handle this?" look.
Being totally incapable of flirting in German, not to mention at a complete loss for words in any language, I just marched on. But since then I've thought...
But no. I mean, cool is cool, but a pig's a pig.
As it turns out, there are miniature pet pigs, and then there are the regular kind. My sister thought she was getting the miniature kind. Surprise. Wonder if Coulda-Been-A-Contender-GF had the same eye-opening moment.
Don't you know it's hard enough for me to take the moral high ground with my German ex without you feeding me lines like that?
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