Forget the Biscuits, Gimme Tacos

“We talk to our dogs all of the time, but what would happen if they talked back? What would they share about the world from their perspective? Take a ride with Raud and his dogs and find out.”

This is the premise for my new series of dog fiction that I’m writing for Kindle Vella. It’s titled, “Forget the Biscuits, Gimme Tacos”. The first three episodes are free. Only two are up right now because I’m still writing the third.

I hope it gives you a laugh. I know we could all use one these days.
https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B0CLLNH5KJ

New Cement Great Dane

This is the first casting from my new Great Dane mold that I made recently.

Diet and Ear Issues

Franny has had an ongoing yeast infection in her ear for ages. I treat it with Otomax drops for about a week and it goes away, only to return a month or two later.

This last time I treated her with the drops, but also stopped feeding her any kibble (she was getting the limited ingredient that contained no chicken) and switched her to a combination of Dr. Harvey’s and Honest Kitchen Beef. This has made a huge difference.

It has been a couple of days since her last Otomax treatment and when I went to clean her ear this morning it was the cleanest I’ve seen it since before all this started. It looks perfect now. In the past it would be clean but still quite waxy and greasy.

When I asked my vet about diet affecting her ear, her answer was vague and noncommittal. When I asked about the rise in cancer in dogs and its possible connection to diet, I got the same kind of answer. Then again, she was speaking to me from behind a mask, and this was after the mask mandate had been dropped here in Oregon. So it makes me wonder.

A vet visit for Franny’s ear would usually run about $200 or so, which includes the Otomax.

Can anyone recommend a good vet in the Aloha/Hillsboro area?

By the way, Franny hates her picture taken.

Mold Box

A mold box takes shape. Today I will be using the green goo instead of the blue because it’s more flexible. The backs of the ears are tapered in such a way that I’ll need that flex to get it out of the mold without cracking them.

The Hydrant

When Arthur arrived at the cafe, the hostess seated him outside on the sidewalk patio at his favorite table right in the midst of the diners where the people watching was best. He ordered a glass of wine, not because he liked it but because he didn’t. It would last a long time and he didn’t want to get drunk, not tonight, not with what he’d learned this morning.

The middle-aged couple on his right were discussing current events. He eavesdropped for a bit but they were just boringly parroting talking points they’d picked up from television news like something they’d tracked in on their shoes. Besides, Arthur knew all that was just lies fed to the public to keep them engaged enough to be complacent but not so engaged that they started digging for the truth and got mad. You see, Arthur had found the perfect source for news, one that never lied and was honest to a fault.

A month or so ago at the beginning of spring, he had been weeding around the fire hydrant in his front yard by the curb when he was struck by an odd smell. As he sniffed the air trying to identify it, he started to hear voices in his head and see images in his mind’s eye, as if he was watching other people’s memories, but then he started hearing even stranger voices commenting on what he was hearing and seeing. There he was on all fours, sniffing the air next to the fire hydrant, and he felt like he was watching a show next to someone who was giving a running commentary on what they were watching.

Huckleberry says, “Priorities, Raud, priorities.”