Today I got to show Don around the ICU. I am feeling much better. Right now I’m the only dog being watched in intensive care. It turns out 90% of dogs who get salmon poisoning die within 14 days, and Don and the docs didn’t figure out the problem till day 13. I came pretty close. Yesterday Don held me in his arms and even said goodbye. We sat on the floor in a little room and I slobberd on him and it hurt to breathe. It was nice to have him there. There is so much noise in the hospital that I don’t feel safe, so when Don comes, I feel like I can sleep. To be honest, the doctors weren’t as worried as Don. They all knew I would pull through but all Don saw was thirteen days of decline. I don’t blame him for being upset. I’d be hurting if I knew he was going to die, too. I’d tell you I was afraid of dying, but I wasn’t. In my cage in the ICU, I can see all the critical patients that come in. Their cries are very scary. I do get scared at the thought [...]

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So I’ve been in the hospital lately. I didn’t feel well so I stopped eating. I had a temperature. After a few days, Don brought me into the hospital. The doctors couldn’t find out what was wrong for another two days, but then found out I got poisoning from a fish. I ate something when I was playing in the water and it made bacteria explode in my belly. I had an IV and a cone and the whole bit. Don had to spoon feed me baby food and I hated it. Finally they put a tube down my throat to get me to eat. I should let Don tell you because he’s more dramatic about this stuff. Being sick hasn’t taught me anything, honestly. It hasn’t taught me anything other than I don’t like being sick. But I did learn something in the hospital. It all happened on Sunday, when our normal clinic was closed. We had to go to the ER at Dove Lewis. Sunday is their busy day, and we were sitting in the lobby with the other pet owners and sick pets. It was all the basic stuff, itchy skin or throwing up. Nothing to worry [...]

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In movies, the bad guy has to display he is the bad guy through actions. It won’t do to have a subtitle come on the screen that says “this is the bad guy.” A cliche, yet effective methodology is to have the bad guy belittle somebody who is weaker, poorer of less fortunate. A bad guy will belittle a servant, a waiter, a spouse or child. The reason screenwriters write these scenes is because, eventually, the bad guy is going to get killed, and they can’t let anybody in the audience feel sorry for them when this happens. They have to establish how bad the bad guy really is. In real life, the bad guy doesn’t always get killed off, but that doesn’t change the fact we don’t like him. And ultimately, bad guys get what they deserve. They end up alone, or worse, surrounded and yet lonely. They may take advantage of people but the world doesn’t run on money or fame, it runs on love, and when you take advantage of people, you end up without love. The other problem with real life is it’s hard to tell whether or not you are the bad guy. We all [...]

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I’d rather be hated than loved with conditions. I think most people would agree. At least when people hate you, they are being intellectually honest. I mean you know where they stand. But we’ve all shared a political view or a struggle and had people take a half step back, or worse, reveal they no longer want the best for us. When this happens I get a hollow feeling and I associate that hollow feeling with the person and their ideas. So that begs the question, do we actually love our friends without conditions? Are we the kind of friend we hope to have? Ultimately, loving people conditionally is an attempt to control them. We are wrongly thinking that if we can make people “pay” for their faults, or their opinions that don’t match ours, they will have a negative association with their faults or their supposedly wrong opinions. But that’s not the way it works. When we attach conditions to our love, what we are really doing is attaching a negative association with us! People don’t sit around saying, man, if I just didn’t have this fault or this opinion, that person would love me. What they actually think [...]

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So if you’ve followed this blog at all you know I work as a writer but also as a private detective, basically tracking down cheating spouses and that sort of thing. That has severely limited my ability to keep up the blog. So on a few days a week my dog Lucy covers for me. Here are her thoughts on exercise: I hate exercise. It’s completely stupid. I’d no sooner stand around in a gym lifting weights than you’d eat your own poop. Eating your own poop makes complete sense because it’s filled with vital nutrients but standing around in a gym lifting weights makes no sense at all. I never, ever exercise. Call me lazy if you want, but I don’t exercise and don’t see the point of it. I don’t set fitness goals, I don’t plan out my week, I don’t work with a trainer (not the kind of trainer you’re thinking of. I work with a trainer sometimes and fitness trainers could learn something from my trainer, actually. If fitness trainers threw a mini-snickers at their clients every time they did a push up people would want to do more push ups but that’s off the subject.) [...]

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