The Iowa state senator who tried pushing a bill to make us check the party registration of any prospective faculty turns out to have falsified his business degree. He actually had a non-credit bearing certificate from a management training course from the company that owns Sizzler steakhouse.
As the kids would say, I can’t even.
I can appreciate the value of an outside perspective. I can also appreciate the distinction between an academic degree and an in-house training operation at a steakhouse.
If I had written that in a parody, it would have seemed heavyhanded. Yet here we are…
--
We’re fostering a dog named Shannon. Shannon apparently had a rough time before she got to us: she arrived emaciated and scarred, with parts of both ears bitten off. She was quick to flinch when petted. She also came to us with heartworm and a few other medical issues. She’s sweet with us, though, except for being absolutely awful to Sally, our dog. We’ve had to keep them separated, like in the old I Love Lucy episodes when Lucy and Ricky would put tape down the middle of the room.
The real battles, though, have been to get Shannon to swallow the pills she needs to take for heartworm.
TW has a master’s degree, and I have a doctorate. Shannon is a dog. Yet she repeatedly outsmarts us, finding ways to eat around the pill.
We started with the old “put it in peanut butter” trick, only to discover that she doesn’t like peanut butter. Wrapping it in cheese worked for a day, but then she either lost her taste or figured out the trick. We tried putting it in her food; she just ate around it. We even put it in scrambled eggs; for such a goofy dog, she’s precise when she wants to be. When she was done with the bowl, there was no trace of egg, but the pill was entirely undisturbed. The only thing that works, at this point, is using slices of turkey like little tortillas and wrapping the pills in them.
I’m half convinced that Shannon is laughing at us.
Shannon can’t stay, given how awful she is to Sally. Anyone interested in having Shannon as a solo dog, though, would find themselves with a real sweetheart. Just stock up on sliced turkey. She’s available through Rescue Dogs Rock NYC; her info is here.
--
Reason #358 to treat people decently: sometimes, as you carry your suit on a hanger into the gym, the pants will slip out and you won’t even notice.
The staff could choose to embarrass you mightily. Or it could choose to cut you a break, even if with a knowing grin.
Right now, I’m just glad I’m decent to the staff.
--
The saga of the missing health care bill on Thursday was absurd, but it gave my brother a chance to coin the line of the day. As he noted, you could actually picture Representatives running around the Capitol to the tune of Yakity Sax.
“I am a bill. I am only a bill. And I’m hiding here on Capitol Hill…”
