I'm Brian Fellows!

Our new house has a huge yard, as most of the places in this area do, with lots of fertile and virtually undisturbed places for wild things to breed. At the old place, we had our share of birds (That bird is a LIAR!) brought in through the dog door by my hunting cats, but that was about it. They look harmless like this, no?
Usually they were either bloodlessly dead, or still alive enough to swoop around and scare the bejesus out of me; but feathers are easy to vacuum up and if you open a door or window, they'll fly right out pretty quickly. So no big stress.

But here? I'm thinking of getting my own cable access show so I can share all we have learned about local critters.

First came the ants. Hundreds, nay probably thousands of them streaming into the small bathroom. We caulked like fricking Schneider from One Day at a Time, and even called in the big guns professionals to exterminate. But still their armies came. To the point where I started to get a little tweaky, like feeling ants crawling on me when there were none…..and that they were on my clothes out in public and everyone would come to know me as the freaky insect lady…

I nearly came unglued at the open house at my son's new school when I found one walking on my arm while sitting at his desk. I had brought them with me and infested his school! OMG!! Can they trace the colony back to the ones at my house using ant DNA? Shit! Kaptain Klonopin had to rescue me from that panic attack! A few weeks later, when I was stable enough to venture to casually mention it, he told me there are ants in that particular classroom all the time, and they had been there long before open house. Whew! At least they're everywhere, not just here. Wait! They're EVERYWHERE? Where's my Klonopin?

Go, go coprophagia!!

I can't help but notice that only 1/3 of my dogs have a poop fetish. Why does the German/Rotty/Shepard mix crave the taste of poo and the pit bull/mix breed duo do not?

Perhaps it is because she is the oldest dog, with questionable dental quality left, and eating the easy to chew food is like an old person eating the overcooked veggies at the local all you can eat buffet. And it has to be easy on the digestive system too. I mean how much more processing can that stuff require?

Interestingly she seems to have pretty strict criteria for which pile she consumes. She doesn't seem to be too picky about whose brown eye blinked it out, but she does seem to be very finicky about texture. I have watched with fascination as she hones in on just the right one, sniffing closely and deeply for several seconds before deciding to either let it ferment a bit longer, or dig in. Like a human sniffing the cork of a fine wine.

(I still haven't figured out how to tell if she is mostly just recycling the same pile over and over again...I mean I am curious, but is that really where I want to spend all my research money?)

As close as I can figure she prefers the outside to be a little crunchy, but the inside still soft. Like a 3 Musketeers.


Mmmmmmm, candy.