Good evening. The first casualties have emerged in what is sure to be an ongoing period of struggle and strife in these Border Collie Peacekeeping Actions. The casualties were noncombatants by the name of : My Slippers. My Slippers were homebodies; they were three or four years old. They leave behind a mess of white fuzzy stuff.
An additional casualty in coming days, Mr. Fox's condition is steadily declining. Mr. Fox you may remember has been with us since the incursion of Jack the Puppy. He has sustained near constant chewing and heavy teeth damage. The squeaky in his tail could not be saved.
Former inmate and formerly less of a chew-monster, Bobby, was getting a rawhide chew daily during his imprisonment. It had previously been thought to be beneficial to both his bowels and waistline if he didn't get them every day. Now the Home Administration is considering just coughing up more chewies, to stave off H's patience becoming another casualty.
Saturday night a new discovery was made in the Home basement. H went down to the basement and cleaned out the cat litter, all the while grimacing and groaning, "god, what are we feeding these cats?!" The stinky culprits were disposed of, or so it was thought. D ventured downstairs and wondered "eugh, why does the cat litter smell so bad?!" But as he looked in the boxes he saw that they'd just been cleaned. That is how it was discovered that Bobby had been sneaking downstairs and poo-ing in a secluded area of the basement. H surmises that Bobby repeatedly offended (o ho! double entendre!) because he observed that it was ok for the cats to poo in the basement, and therefore by doggie logic he deduced it should be okay for him too. Does he think he's a cat? Experts could not be reached for comment.
In other news, D's dad came to town to visit. And Cincinnati threw an Oktoberfest to mark the occasion. How nice.
There was lots of oom-pah-pah
And lots of people walking around with chicken hats. Because Oktoberfest Cincinnati does a chicken dance with multitudes of participants. Apparently one held the world record for the most participants in a chicken dance the year a Bavarian prince attended the event.
And you can't have an event in Cincy without beer. And they didn't try. I had never tried Erdinger before. It was all right. Tasty, and a clean-ish finish. Not as good as Spaten or Moerlein's 5th and Vine. The giant buttery pretzel we tried was possibly the best pretzel I have ever eaten in my life. The bratwurst was gone so fast there was no time to photograph the food. (I had taken the dog for a jog and to the vet and hadn't had a chance to eat) The desserts looked amazing. I only had one.
I chose wisely. But by this time I'd had beer and bratwurst and pretzel, and I couldn't finish it. It was some sort of heavenly mocha cake, rich and filling. Not quite the food writer, am I?
And so the celebration of its German heritage this past weekend drew to a close.
And this weekend it celebrates its Celtic heritage with food and beer and Riverdancers. Not actual riverdancers, obviously.