Little Bear’s starting to drop his winter coat. For the next several months I shall begin and end each day by cursing whichever of his ancestors decided she just had to have sex with that Newfie.
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They say that Louis XIV had the inscription Ultima Ratio Regum cast into all the cannon of the French Army. It means “The Ultimate Argument of Kings,” and that always struck me as one of the most honest and up-front things any ruler or would-be ruler ever said. “We can dress it up prettier than this, but when it comes down to the unvarnished truth this is what it’s about: You’ll do as I say or I’ll send my goons to kill you.”
I thought about that for a long time. If there’s an ultimate argument, it seems only logical that there must be an ultimate answer. For years I thought the ultimate answer must be the bullets in my rifle, but it never seemed quite right. I’ve got bullets – he’s got frigging Cannon Balls. I mean, if there were three hundred million rifles throwing bullets at him, then maybe. But we all know that’s not going to happen. So if there’s an ultimate answer to his ultimate argument, it sure as hell ain’t bullets.
It finally came to me – and that’s when I abandoned the city and most of my stuff, and gave all that was behind me a good stiff Randian Shrug.
The ultimate answer to kings is not a bullet, but a belly laugh.
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Does he allow you to groom him?
Looks like it would be a daily task as well.
On the plus side, if you do it long enough you’ll have enough spare hair to build a new dog or at least a reasonable facsimile of one.
Or you could use it to insulate the new bedroom.
Or take up spinning and knit yourself a sweater.
Mercy will come later; yer paying your penance now.
In Spring I often threaten him that if he doesn’t behave I’ll knit another dog that looks just like him. He hates brushing with a deep passion, possibly because the only brush I ever found that could get down to the undercoat is a wicked thing that has been known to snag tender bits LB was saving for his wedding night. I can really hardly blame him, but he mats up so easily while he’s shedding that I have to be firm. He figures he can keep from getting his ass brushed by sitting down, only to learn I’m strong enough to pick him up by the tail – which he also hates. And lord, that stuff felts up on his ass so bad he can barely shit if I don’t keep at it.
It’ll be every morning and every evening from now through the spring and summer.
Have you ever tried clippers for his rear end? Our Aussie had the same problem with matting and the clippers did a good job. She hated it by the way.
The Berner is starting to shed. Burned out the first Bissel of the year, and we’re bringing out the standby Hoover. Walmart tomorrow for spares.
Funny you should say that. Yesterday BB offered to buy a Black & Decker dustbuster, that will run on the batteries from my other cordless tools. If they ever make a cordless shop vacuum, I’ll want one.