wideeyedfunk

Author: wideeyedfunk

  • The Pugrador Retreagle: A New Boutique Breed

    Pugrador Retreagle at 10 months.

    Miss Tibbit came from the Buffalo Animal Shelter last summer, joining a Pembroke Welsh Corgi and a surly cat in her new home.

    Miss Tibbit is a Pugrador Retreagle of the Toy Sporting Hound group. If you’ve not heard of this new boutique breed (mutt), these dogs result from a cross between a Labrador Retriever and a Pug crossed with a Beagle (the Puggle). Let me take you through some of the interesting show-dog career ending traits Miss Tibbit exhibits. She will assume the role of the breed standard.

    The Pugrador Retreagle is a toothy, ungainly, opinionated dog of uncommonly sweet nature. The breed is stoutly, solidly built in the torso with a deep chest balanced forward on outward angled spindly front legs. The hindquarters are narrow with lean haunches and skinny rear limbs. The tailed is thick, arched, and prehensile with a bendy joint halfway along and white tufts on the feathering. The Pugrador Retreagle’s gait alternates between a sidewinding, crabwalking trot and toe prancing. 

    3 mos.

    The coat is short, dense, and soft, with a tendency to stink and shed dandruff during periods of anxiety. It is black along the back, grading into deep bronze at the legs on the head, with white tufts on the belly.  The head is well shaped with a balanced snout and velvety ears that flop to the jawline. The mouth is toothy, with possibly too many bright, white teeth and an overly large tongue that is accidently bitten during frequent baying-barking fits. Deep brown eyes clearly reflect the mood: calm and loving, trouble seeking, or interested but not yet committed to action.

    The Pugrador Retreagle is highly energetic, requiring a minimum of two walks and four yard romps per day, in addition to near-constant play sessions with other household animals and toys or household goods. The Pugrador Retreagle is however a fine napping companion when the energies finally fade. At 45 pounds and 20 inches at the shoulder, the Pugrador Retreagle is small enough to fit comfortably on the sofa, and to be picked up when its opinions are in opposition to human commands.

    3 mos., romping

    Pugrador Retreagles retrieve sticks compulsively, carrying them through the neighborhood until interesting aromas attract the sensitive nose, at which point the dog begins to aggressively track. They are smart and trainable if the tasks are interesting or the rewards sufficiently high. They cuddle close, and like contact with humans if nothing more exciting is happening. In all, Pugrador Retreagles exhibit few of the show qualities of the parent breeds, and many of the sweet, loyal aspects of the Pugs, Labradors, and Beagles. They are highly recommended as family pets for their sweetness of nature, and inexpensive, rescue-dog cost.

  • Santa Lives in Buffalo, Strapped to a Railing

    Last March Santa looked forlorn strapped to the fifth floor balcony of an apartment building near the Canisius College Metro station. His cherry red suit was faded to a soft tea rose pink. His pink cheeks had bleached to vampire whiteness. Traffic soot embedded into his beard, hair, and the rim of fluffy white on his hat gave them an ultra-real dimensionality that shouldn’t be possible on his round plastic body.  Now a year later, Santa still rigidly dangles that hundred or more feet off  the ground. But between last March and today he had his weeks of glory, and the true brilliance of the apartment owner shined into the December nights.

     We assumed that Balcony Santa was collateral damage in someone’s busy life. You know what I mean – wreaths that were perky in December but flap forlornly in February’s gusts, the spindly Christmas tree carcass that appears on the curb in April, and one of my favorites – Rudolph standing in an unkempt front garden with late summer purple coneflowers bobbing around him. We figured Santa was just like those forgotten remnants of Christmas spirit. But this winter, on a fine December evening we were hurtling down the Scajaquada Expressway and there he was shining far above the road. Santa was lit and glowing: his red suit agleam, his dark eyes like holes in his dreadfully cheery winter-white face. He hovered, one arm in the air raised to spread a message of Christmas cheer: “Farewell to all, and to all a good night…” He lit up the Christmas season. He glowed through New Year’s Eve. And then he was shut off.

     You have to figure that Santa is tied onto that balcony railing pretty firmly. Even permanently. He hasn’t sagged. He doesn’t move in the 50 or 60 mile an hour winds that howl through the city. And when I think about the annual effort of untangling lights, hanging lights, prying lights down, stowing lights – I wonder if Santa’s owner isn’t much smarter than me. Sure, a person would have to have selective vision, to be able to look past Santa on say, the Fourth of July, but I bet that is easier than going hypothermic for the Christmas spirit every year. Balcony Santa isn’t forgotten. He is simply waiting in his aerie. And maybe, he is keeping an eye out – checking off the naughty and the nice.

  • Why Can’t My Husband Find the Ketchup?

    Men and women see the world differently. This isn’t my opinion; it’s a strongly supported scientific hypothesis. Men and women perceive space and the items in it differently. I wrote an article about it. I think about it all the time for my work. But for some reason I never applied my ivory tower notions to my household.

     Why does my husband have to lean into the refrigerator hunting the ketchup? It’s been on the same door shelf position in all 11 of our households over the years. It isn’t rocket science. The man memorizes the URLs of hundreds of routers and switches and techie stuff for his work. But he can’t reliably find the ketchup.

     It just isn’t his fault. Evolutionary psychology tells us that men learn large territories and routes through them, while women learn smaller areas in greater detail. Back in the day, men were hunting the big game over days of effort. Women were taking care of every other detail of life, including feeding themselves and their families using their detailed knowledge of local, smaller resource areas. Don’t argue it. Just accept it as an idea. A maybe explanation for inexplicable male behavior in the household.

     The notion has important implications for maintaining a harmonious marriage.

     You have to remember that your man is not being deliberately obtuse to avoid domestic responsibility. He is using the skill set thousands of generations of men developed during critical phases of our species’ survival. He quite honestly may not have the ability to remember that the ketchup lives on the second door shelf.

     You are thinking that he should be able to see the bright red ketchup there on the door. That the bottle placement is stupendously obvious. But evolved psychological tendencies can be remarkably subtle and powerful. Give your man the benefit of the doubt. Don’t expect him to know what you know about the ketchup, the car keys, the dog’s leash…when he asks, just tell him exactly where the object is or pretend you can’t hear him. Don’t worry if he can’t find stuff when he is on his own. He won’t even notice there’s a problem because this is normal for him.

     Is it easier to be a woman? I think so. After all, I can use a map to go the long distances – and I have all that extra time to travel them because I am not hunting the house for my keys, the dog’s leash, or the ketchup. Enjoy the partnership. Let evolution run wild and free!