Tag Archives: Nightwing

The Hair Menagerie

“She lives in a world of her own – a world of – little glass ornaments…”
― Tennessee Williams, The Glass Menagerie

A somewhat belated Happy Easter or a more timely Happy Monday!  My funny bunny, Nightwing, sends his love.

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I’m a little behind on royal news due to technical difficulties.  But Apple has reunited me with my resurrected laptop, so time for a little catch-up.

To no one’s surprise, Prince William wound up jetting off to attend the wedding of rumored first love Jecca Craig in Kenya, leaving a fairly impressive amount of pissed off people in his cloud of cartoon smoke.  At least one of William’s co-worker spouses was displeased her husband had to spend yet another holiday away from his family when William got to take both Easter and all of December off.  Many taxpayers were peeved about having to pick up the pricy tab for Prince William’s security detail and private secretary for another international jolly.  And it’s assumed Kate isn’t too happy either that Wills missed out on their daughter’s first Easter to attend the wedding of his ex, although having watched Kate being interviewed for the Queen at 90 documentary, I suspect it’s possible Kate is being kept so heavily sedated, someone probably just stuffed a pillow into that blue sweater William always wears and Kate thinks she and her hubby just had the best Easter ever together.

The bulk of Kate’s contribution to the documentary on the Queen had already been released and discussed by the press: George calls Her Majesty Gan-Gan, the Queen leaves little gifts for her great-grandchildren in their room when they visit and Kate made the Queen chutney for her first royal Christmas.  Not terribly riveting stuff, this is more the sort of information that might be exchanged during small talk at an official engagement, if Kate actually bothered with small talk or engagements.  The Shetland pony featured in the documentary probably offered more insight on Her Majesty than the future Queen Consort did.  The documentary can be viewed in its entirety here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CD7dAsNxmrQ

While the Countess of Wessex and the Duchess of Cornwall provided glimpses into the Queen as a woman, most of what Kate had to offer was more on Kate.  In one clip, Kate noted:

“I think she’s so… so engaging.
And I think she’s got the most fantastic smile.
I think even if the Queen says nothing at all but just smiles, she gives people an enormous amount of pleasure.”

Notice a pattern?  I, I, I.  There was an abundance of Is all throughout Kate’s segments.  “I was worried…”, “I thought back…”, “I noticed…”, “I think…”.  I, I, I.

Contrary to popular belief, over-usage of the pronoun I in speech isn’t a mark of narcissism, it’s one of insecurity.  In the documentary, Our Fair Waity sounded like Eliza Doolittle raided Paula Abdul’s medicine cabinet and then tried to leave a trail of pronoun breadcrumbs to help her find her way back to her own thought process.  Kate’s affected posh accent somehow managed to get even plummier and she appeared to be somewhat disoriented trying to maintain its consistency, with words lost in her own nervous laugh or in a rush to make sentences be over.

In one segment, Kate noted, “There’s a real art to walkabouts, everybody teases me in the family that I spend far too long chatting.”  Yeah, I don’t think the walkabouts which Kate rarely does are the problem.  Supposedly, the Royal Family finds Kate’s affected accent to be frustrating because she has to think about how each word should sound and it can take her a while to stammer through a complete thought.  They’re known not be fans of people putting on airs so a middle class girl constantly being a conversational speed bump in an attempt to sound like the poshest one of all naturally wouldn’t go over well.

In two clips, Kate made reference to the Queen taking care of her in a maternal nurturing way, by making sure she was okay at the Leicester engagement when she was without William and by putting out the chutney Kate made her for Christmas which Kate felt, “shows her thoughtfulness, really, and her care in looking after everybody.”

Why does a woman in her thirties and a future Queen Consort need the Queen to look after her as if she’s a child?  If someone as busy as a Head of State needs to stop what she’s doing like the Queen did at Leicester and ask if you’re okay, in all likelihood you are very far from okay.  Maybe the reason Kate usually doesn’t take her coat off at official engagements is because Kate’s Mum has to pin a note inside of them reading, “If found, please return to Carole Middleton’s umbilical cord.”

If there was any doubt before, Queen at 90 solidifies my suspicion that Kate is a walking Tennessee Williams play.  Kate ticks a lot of the same boxes as Laura, the mentally fragile daughter from the Glass Menagerie.  Both need to be taken care of, live in seclusion, become nervous speaking, drop out of commitments, have social circles limited to siblings, have mothers overly intent on making strong matrimonial matches for their daughters, and judging by Kate’s bad tailoring, it’s likely she puts her elongated torso on the same exaggerated level of physical deformity as Laura views her limp.  Substitute glass animal figurines with a wiglet collection and you’ve got a play… just not a woman suited to a role she aggressively pursued for over a decade.  The most striking difference is that Laura is a far more sympathetic character than Kate, Laura was trapped by circumstance whereas Kate built hers brick by boring brick.

The Daily Mail ran an article over the weekend indicating that it’s likely Kate and William will be ditching Anmer life and returning to London so Prince George can attend Wetherby next year.  Maybe the suggestion that the Cambridges will be returning to both London and duty is merely a PR ploy so the masses will think their seemingly endless gap year will be drawing to a close soon, but if they are moving back to London, how exactly is that going to work?  They can’t keep their criticism-provoking actions from the public’s awareness with Anmer Hall’s seclusion acting as a cloaking device and London affords far fewer places to hide the more unflattering aspects of a fairytale that’s looking increasingly Grimm.

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2016 Oscars Red Carpet

At the 88th Academy Awards, Chris Rock diffused the diversity controversy that hung over the Dolby Theater with his raw yet dexterous brand of comedy, acknowledging a need for change within Hollywood while keeping the show on track. It’s been so long since an Oscar host was actually entertaining, I had forgotten these things used to sometimes  be funny.  Not everything was comedic gold, I still can’t figure out the point of the Girl Scout bit.  Girl Scout cookies sell themselves because they are delicious and somewhat deceptively named.  Thin Mints for example give you the false impression you can swallow sleeves of cookies whole like a boa constrictor without worrying about your waistline while Tagalongs and Do-si-dos practically sound like you’re getting some kind of calorie-cancelling exercise simply by eating them.

Amusingly, the plan to omit thank yous from the acceptance speeches and scroll pre-prepared lists of names instead didn’t pan out amongst those who take direction for a living.  Not exactly a shocker.  If I ever won an Academy Award, guidelines and music wouldn’t get me off the stage, it would probably take some kind of zoo-tranquilizer dart and even then, I wouldn’t go without a fight.

But the Oscars are so much more than a platform for social change or awarding  the best in film, they’re about attractive people wearing fabulous designer clothing.  Watching the Oscars is all about focusing on the most superficial aspects of people who are part of the most shallow industry on Earth.  It’s all about the fashion.

This year was a little more interesting than the past few years.  The best and worst weren’t quite so cut and dry with many  critics divided over who led  the pack and whose fashion failed.

These are my picks:

The Best

Cate Blanchett was ethereal perfection in seafoam Armani Prive.  In the wrong hands, this  dress could look like a glue gun disaster, but with Tiffany & Co. cascading diamond earrings, sea creature bracelet and beachy bob, Cate had that just-stepped-out-of-the-waves-like-this goddess quality.  This dress made both best and worst dressed lists.  On anyone but Cate Blanchett, I would have categorized it as the latter.  On her, it was both regal and whimsical.

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Another red carpet masterpiece in motion was Saoirse Ronan in Calvin Klein.  The actress chose emerald to honor her Irish heritage, however the swirling sequins of the skirt were evocative of the sky’s nocturnal undulations in Dutch post-Impressionist painter, Vincent van Gogh’s The Starry Night.  While the brightest “star” in van Gogh’s painting is actually Venus, Saoirse Ronan’s luminous beauty made her one of the brightest stars on the Oscar red carpet.
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The black Chanel dress Julianne Moore wore was a departure from the jewel tones she normally gravitates towards, making it a noteworthy selection.  Recently, a similar version made its way down the Chanel runway on Kendall Jenner.  Julianne opted for meticulously crafted effortless glamour, wearing her hair down instead of in angry Princess Leia buns with Black Swan eye makeup shown at the Chanel Haute Couture show.

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Once again Charlize Theron’s red carpet appearance reminded us that no matter how hard we try, we’ll never be Charlize Theron.  Charlize may have terrible taste in men, but her fashion sense is impeccable.  Draped in Christian Dior Couture and Harry Winston diamonds, Charlize continued her reign as the Red Carpet’s best dressed.

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Honorable Mention

Mindy Kaling’s Elizabeth Kennedy dress was a little too tight, causing it to pucker, but between its black and royal blue color scheme and cape-like tie in the  back, it reminded me of the superhero costume worn by Batman’s former sidekick, Nightwing, thus making the dress subjectively awesome.

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Leather and Lace

Two of the trends on the red carpet were the sartorial version of the Stevie Nicks/Don Henley duet, Leather and Lace.

Jennifer Lawrence’s black tiered Dior gown was one of the lace trend’s best examples,  a modern take on the black lace and ruffles favored by Stevie Nicks who paved the way for goth girls who want to keep their hair blonde.

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Rooney Mara also wore lace.  The cut-out sheer dress  by Givenchy Haute Couture was a cometh hither combination of demure and provocative, however the sci-fi hair and white platform sandals detracted from the dress.

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Versace-clad Kerry Washington looked like she was wearing Xena’s prom dress: ass-kicking leather on top, glamorous femininity on the bottom.

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Margot Robbie glittered like a gold dust woman in a long-sleeve gold leather embellished Tom Ford gown.  In 85 degree heat.  I’m really not sure how she wasn’t glistening buckets.

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The Worst

This year’s Oscars refuted my long-held belief that Kate Winslet would look gorgeous even in a garbage bag.  Making a rare sartorial misstep, Kate’s Ralph Lauren gown was evocative of a Hefty Cinch Sak.  Draw me like one of your tall kitchen bags.

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Another fashion disappointment was Olivia Wilde who, like Kate Winslet, usually nails the red carpet.  I wanted to like Olivia Wilde’s Valentino dress, but ultimately I couldn’t shake the fact that it looked like Mature Bride’s take on Leeloo’s bandage outfit.

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I can’t even take Amy Poehler’s Andrew Gn dress seriously, she looks like she’s being eaten alive by Audrey Jr. flesh-eating embroidery.  A stylist supposedly did this to her on purpose, why I do not know, but humanity may need to call on Lucy Liu’s badassery.

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This year Marchesa happened to Heidi Klum.  The dress looked like a failed practice assignment using canopy curtains and shoddy magic at Fairy Godmother Conjuring School.  The dress Cinderella’s rodent friends made her looked better than this Marchesa dress even after it was destroyed.  Not only is this a lock for this year’s Worst Dressed award, it’s epically hideous, likely to show up on Most Tragic Oscar Fashion lists for years to come.

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Jonas Hits NYC

Boyband blizzard Jonas came a little earlier than announced to NYC, dropping the first of its frozen fluttery notes around 10pm on Friday.

By 12:30am on Saturday, the city had been properly Disney-dusted with white powder.
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The snow came gently at first, by 3am, there had been little action.
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But then suddenly the purity rings came off and the Jonas Blizzard got down and dirty in the city that never sleeps.
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By 5am, the Jonas blizzard was Weather Gone Wild.
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At 8:30am on Saturday, the hanging lanterns and battery-operated candles in my backyard were wearing Sorcerer’s Apprentice Mickey Mouse snow hats. Nightwing did his whole pointer thing just in case I happened to miss the flurry of snowflakes coming from the sky.

With his Labrador duties fulfilled, Nightwing then hopped through the snow like an ADD bunny.

New York City Mayor Bill DeBlasio issued a travel ban in New York City, ordering all non-emergency vehicles off the street as of 2:30pm on Saturday. Broadway went dark, buses and all subway lines that run above ground were suspended and restaurants were told no deliveries which of course many restaurants ignored because this is NYC and even in a Sharknado, you could get pretty much any kind of take-out you want delivered to your door. Naming the blizzard Jonas probably didn’t help with branding this blizzard as a winter-spewing behemoth, the Disney boyband name makes it sound like the kind of weather condition you could bring home to meet your parents. They should have named it something far more sinister and destructive-sounding like Megadeth, Iron Maiden, Venom or Lindsay Lohan.

By 8:00pm on Saturday my outdoor furniture looked like ghost versions of itself.
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The city itself was a ghost town on Saturday night, save for the random food delivery guy trying to navigate the semi-salted sidewalks on bicycles and the occasional group of intoxicated pedestrians, some of whom decorated the sides of snow-covered cars with pictures of penises and breasts.

The snow had ceased by midnight, the total at Central Park coming in at 26.8″, one tenth of an inch below the record set in February 2006. So sadly, Jonas was only the second biggest snowstorm in NYC’s history. It might not have beat last decade’s blizzard, but maybe Jonas will get nominated for a Best New Blizzard Award or something.

While designated responsible adults dealt with Jonas clean-up, Sunday was funday for most New Yorkers. I managed to capture the elusive Nightwing bark on video. I think this is the sixth time I’ve heard his singular bark since adopting him over a year ago, this one alerting me to the fun to be had.

Clean-up efforts continue in NYC, snow that melted yesterday afternoon froze again overnight has caused issues with the trains and created hazardous patches of ice on roads and sidewalks. Queens once again was the neglected borough while elsewhere giant snow walls created by snow plows can make trying to cross the street feel like you need a sherpa.

Hopefully all of you who were in Jonas’ path made it through the storm okay and managed to have some frolicking fun.
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Only 55  days until spring.

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Happy New Year!

Greetings!  My apologies for my absence, I’ve been sick and spent the  holidays with my parents whose WiFi was knocked out by some kind of wiring piggy-backing turf war between the phone and cable companies.

Unfortunately I didn’t get around to commenting on a tiara moment even more cringe-worthy than the 2015 Miss Universe winner mix-up, Kate Middleton in the Cambridge Lover’s Knot tiara given to Princess Diana as a wedding gift in a dress eerily similar to one worn by her deceased mother-in-law with the tiara.  The referencing has sailed past Single White Female and into Hitchockian territory to the point I wouldn’t  blame any guests of Anmer Hall  if they declined  to shower during their stay.  I can only assume Kate’s New Year’s Resolution involves blue eyeliner, shoulder pads and going blonde.

Instead I dumped the contents of my laundry bag into a suitcase and headed to the airport with my canine companion to spend the holidays with my parents.  In my 401 days of Nightwing, we’ve flown twice together.  Nightwing is too big to be able to curl up comfortably at my feet, plus he finds everyone and everything  the most amazing incredible interesting thing ever so I buy the seat next to me so as to not bother a fellow passenger with 67 pounds of a canine attention whore.  Nightwing loves the moveable feast of attention he gets at airports, especially from members of the armed forces traveling home for the holidays who will get down on the ground with him for proper kisses and cuddles.

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When I arrived at my parents’ home, my body lost its virus war and I wound up sleeping through my birthday which I’m pretty sure means I get to deduct one year from my real age and two years from my pretend age.  It’s a tradition in my family to have a real and fake age, at my great-grandmother’s 100th birthday party, she pulled me aside and coyly said, “I have no idea why they’re having this party for me, I’m only 90.”

While the Cambridges did their Christmas church walk with Prince Harry this year, my family celebrated a more low-key Christmas.  None of us had the energy to deck halls.  Nightwing also kept it low-key,  no Christmas Eve attempt to eat Christmas like he did last year when he was a puppy, now referred to as The Great Stocking Massacre.

Last night Nightwing and I embarked on the journey home to NYC, made even longer as the ripple effect of delays continued to impact flights around the country.

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Because of an airline mix-up, we wound  up seated  at the back of a small shuttle plane and Nightwing felt it necessary to greet each and every seated  passenger personally.  I apologized profusely and explained my dog  thinks he’s the mayor of the plane, fortunately the passengers found Nightwing’s affection-seeking antics amusing and indulged the plane’s self-appointed canine mayor as he made his way to his seat.

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I ran into the pilot outside and we joked about Flight Mayor Nightwing.  I told him I was surprised Nightwing didn’t scratch on the cockpit door to see if he could fly the plane.  The pilot laughed and said he would have let him.  Perhaps in 2016, the canine community will have another flying ace.

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Nightwing was quite exhausted from our journey and his newly acquired flight politician status.

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As 2015 takes its final breaths and the calendar resets with a new year filled with wonderful possibilities,  to quote Dolly Parton, “I hope that you have all  that you ever dreamed of.  Oh, I do wish you joy.  And I wish you happiness.  But above all this I wish you love.”

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Lola Loves…

Since so much of what I dish out is criticism seasoned with snark, I thought I’d add a new element to the blog, a weekly Wednesday post featuring things I actually like, such as products, movies, charities, people, basically anything or anyone striking my fancy that week.  I don’t advertise on my site or do paid endorsements, this will be all genuine unsolicited admiration.  The first Lola Loves features the new television show, Impastor.

Impastor

Impastor

This somewhat dark and sarcastic comedy is a TV Land original scripted series which airs on Wednesday nights 10:30/9:30C about a small-time con artist named Buddy who goes on the run from loan sharks and winds up assuming the identity of a gay pastor of a quirky little town.  The writing is edgy and the talented Michael Rosenbaum (best known as Lex Luthor on Smallville) delivers as the likeable pot-smoking scoundrel Buddy Hobbs who slowly begins to be transformed by the congregation he sets out to con.  The incredible cast includes the incomparable Sara Rue as Buddy’s assistant, David Rasche as the suspicious church president and Mircea Monroe as the church treasurer intent on seducing Buddy.

The series is only two episodes in with the third airing tonight, but thus far this kitten is smitten.

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And every now and then, I’d thought I’d throw in something my canine companion, Nightwing, loves as well as part of Love Loves… This week Nightwing is enamored with PureBites treats.

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PureBites Natural Freeze Dried Dog Treats – Chicken Breast

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Despite starting off his life as a stray and eating whatever he could find like discarded ketchup packets, my rescue pup has become very picky about food and treats.  He won’t eat biscuits and Wellness Wellbites soft treats upset his tummy.  One of his favorite things is chicken and when I stumbled across a bag of PureBites Freeze Dried Chicken, I decided to give it a go.

Normally he’s a very happy energetic goofball but when I open the PureBites pouch, he sits perfectly still and becomes dead serious about his patient amenability to the treat exchange.  The treats are 100% chicken meat and it’s far more convenient than getting him a chicken and cutting it up which quite frankly grosses me because for the most part I’m a vegetarian and a little squeamish about handling animal flesh.  I’m okay with the freeze-dried chicken, though, I can pretend they’re generic food nuggets for astronaut dogs.  Nightwing is over the moon.

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Nightwing Turns One

With most rescue dogs, birthdays can only be narrowed down to the best educated guess.  My canine companion Nightwing began his life as a stray so there is no record of when he entered this world.  He was most likely born during the month of May  so I selected May 15th to be the day I will celebrate his wonderful existence a little more than I celebrate it all the other days.

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Nightwing’s first birthday began like every other day, with lots kisses and cuddles.  He’s always so excited when I wake up, he dances around with a waggy tail wiggle butt.  I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m famous but I don’t have the heart to tell him that I’m not a big deal.  I find the way Nightwing perceives me to be quite amusing, every time I use the television remote he looks at me with wonderment, as if in the presence of a powerful sorceress.  He also gets excited when he sees me putting on make-up.  I hope it’s because he associates it with my taking him outside and not because he thinks I look hideous without it.

In celebration of his first birthday, Nightwing feasted on chicken prepared specially for him and drank the finest vintage of Poland Spring water.  Later he made new friends at the dog park.

It was Nightwing’s first time in the dog park since it’s been difficult for me to get him there and I’ve also been a little apprehensive because of stories of overly aggressive dogs there.  A few days ago, a golden retriever was attacked by another dog at that dog run, now the poor pup is walking around with drains sticking out of his shaved ears like antennae and I’m pretty sure he’s trying to blink “Help Me” in morse code because of the giant plastic cone on his head.  Since Nightwing can misinterpret snarling from a dog as an invitation to give kisses, I was a little concerned he would try to be precious with the wrong pooch.  Fortunately it was a good group.  There was a little clashing of titans when one dog tried to establish himself as the alpha male but Nightwing handled himself well.

For his birthday, I got Nightwing a new stuffed chipmunk to replace the replacement.  I’m uncertain as to the allure of the chipmunk, but it’s his very favorite toy, it’s been loved to tatters twice now.  Despite a fondness for tearing up paper products to make floor confetti, Nightwing was apprehensive about opening up his gift in front of me.

Once he saw what was inside, Nightwing snatched away Chipmunk 3.0 for some quality squeaking.

Nightwing finished his birthday just like all other days, cuddled up next to his human.

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Canine Companion Update

With little royal news to discuss other than master illusionist Prince William managing to pull a brand new helicopter out of his ass, I thought I’d share a little update on my sidekick, Nightwing, whose superpower is an ability to bring happiness to humans with supercanine cuteness.

Nightwing has grown quite a bit since I adopted him at the end of November.

Nightwing on March 20, 2015

Nightwing on March 20, 2015

The shelter guessed that he was approximately seven months at the time, but I suspect he was a bit younger which would put his birthday somewhere during the month of May.

Nightwing experienced snow for the very first time on January 6th.  At first he licked it with curiosity and decided it was both delicious and fun to frolic in.

This winter brought a lot of snow to NYC for my canine snow bunny, even the first day of spring on Friday was heralded in by a few inches of celebratory frosty flakes.

Nightwing remains a giant ball of love.  While he has had a few moments of puppy destruction, Nightwing is very well-behaved and eager to please.  He’s such a sweet boy, a couple of weeks ago when I was battling a stomach flu, he gave me his very favorite toy, a stuffed chipmunk.  I guess he figured it brought him so much happiness, it would be able to make me feel better, too.  My supercanine sidekick takes good care of me, always at the ready to administer kisses and cuddles as needed.

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Puppy Love

On Monday night, I adopted a black lab mix from Sean Casey Animal Rescue in Brooklyn.  The shelter named him Nightwing which I kept because you just can’t change a superhero name.  Plus I didn’t want to cause confusion in case there’s a canine version of the League of Justice.  At some point I feel I must bedazzle him a cape.

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Even though black labs can have white markings (they are considered “flaws” in the coat), Nightwing is most likely a mix which is cool, he’s like a box of Cracker Jacks with a secret toy surprise.  Whatever he is doesn’t matter to me, I’ve never been impressed with bloodlines and pedigrees.

Nightwing’s absolute favorite thing in the world is to cuddle and give kisses.  I’m still teaching him that not everyone in the world wants puppy love, like the 6’5″ 300lb man who screamed like a little girl at the drug store tonight when Nightwing tried to nuzzle the bottom of his coat.  But for the most part, people fall under his tail-wagging spell, those who stop to pet him thank me for making their day.  He’s just a giant ball of love.

Because he was a stray, his exact age is not known, but Nightwing is most likely just shy of eight months old and has still got lots of puppy energy.

But he’s a very good boy and despite never having had a home and a human of his own before, picks up commands quickly.  He still walks like a drunken sailor but is improving.

I knew I wanted to adopt instead of purchasing from a breeder or pet store which are partly responsible for the over-population of dogs in the world.  Each day, approximately 10,000 dogs are euthanized in the United States alone.  Only one in ten dogs born in this world ever gets to know a home.  For black dogs, euthanasia statistics are significantly higher because they aren’t spotted as easily in the shadows of kennel lighting, they don’t photograph as well as their lighter-hued canine counterparts and because of a subconscious association with the spectral hounds of British folklore perpetuated by authors such as Sir Walter Scott and Arthur Conan Doyle.

Nightwing is no hellhound, I still don’t even know what his growl or bark sounds like.  He’s just a happy-go-lucky pup who just wants to love everyone and everything he sees.

For years I have supported local animal rescue shelters and so often I’ve heard adopters say, ‘I didn’t rescue my dog, my dog rescued me.’  Dogs enrich our lives in so many way, they are unconditionally loving beings who are like furry little Jedi Grand Masters with much to teach us about the ways of the Force.  They exist solely in the present, wanting nothing more than affection and to have their basic needs met.  David Duchovny once admitted:

Each morning I drive to work with my dog, Blue. When we get to within a half-mile of the set, she starts jumping up and down and getting all excited. I start getting depressed. I’m trying to learn from her.

For those willing and able to undertake the responsibility of having a pet, I urge you to adopt from a shelter.  There are so many animals out there just waiting to be the love of someone’s life.

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