Speed Bump sets a high mark today for cartoons in which we assume dogs are people but are still also dogs. Which is not a small category of comic strips.
My boy is, indeed, neutered and chipped, though I don't need, and am disinclined to spend the money on, an invisible fence.
And my dog's chip only IDs him. As far as I know, nobody's figured out how to build it into an app for tracking, but I'm sure that will happen.
Meanwhile, there are some more practical devices on the market, what you might call Doggie Dongles. They do assume the dog won't shed his collar, but that's reasonable. Sort of.
That is, my dog has a martingale collar, so it won't come off, but I'm not so sure that I'd hang a hundred dollar doohickey on it.
We keep his tags in the glove compartment, because those almost invariably fall off, and if he needs to show ID, the car is usually close anyway.
Though I guess if his Doggie Dongle fell off, you could track it. Still, if your dog is a runner, there are other solutions.
For instance, he's got my phone number embroidered on his collar, so if he turns up somewhere, they can find out where he belongs. (And cell phones have freed us from the old thing of having to leave someone at the house to answer the phone while everyone else looks for the dog.)
Granted, a thief would remove the collar. But if you consider that a major threat, the tinfoil hat is on the wrong head.
When the gate is open -- and even when it's closed -- and the dog is gone, there is a long list of plausible explanations before you get to the mysterious evil-doers.
I know, because, over the years, my dogs have taught me every one of them.
Though, if you want the dog to run away ...
Do you feel that Sophie is being a bit negative?
Do you think she's simply a grouch?
That freakin' asteroid can't get here soon enough.
Arma feminamque cano
Today's Rabbits Against Magic coincides with a *click* that clicked for me a few days ago.
It's not so much that lipstick and high heels won't do it, though simply rebooting a superhero as a woman is, yeah, pretty stupid.
As Jonathan Lemon suggests, it's not whether or not they can be heroes. It's all in the depiction, and it's a lot more than just the costume, though that sure is a good place to start:
Superman wears, essentially, a rip-proof leotard allowing free motion, and Batman's cowl-and-cape ensemble is intended to frighten criminals.
Why on earth would a woman superhero choose an uncomfortable, binding costume which, if she moved at all, she'd fall out of?
Is she operating, perhaps, on the theory that she can gain an advantage by inducing the bad guys to stop fighting in order to masturbate?
It was not always that way.
Supergirl (b. 1959) was both as heroic and as prim as Nancy Drew, though Wonder Woman (1941) came out of a pre-Code comics world and so got a little leeway for the kink-factor she brought to the game.
But when Sue Storm (1961) entered the arena, her practical onesie was along the lines of Supergirl's costume, while her super-powers -- invisibility and throwing up force fields -- minimized physical contact.
Which is where watching Ridley Scott's 2010 version of "Robin Hood" the other night comes into play.
After the initial shock of "That's not how it goes" wore off, I actually enjoyed his re-imagining of the story, which had f-all to do with Robin Hood but was a fun action romp.
Russell Crowe was all mumbly and manly, and Cate Blanchett was cold and then warm, and everything was going pretty well until the Big Fight on the Beach, when, as in every Western and swashbuckler for the past quarter century or so, the female lead drops all previously established vulnerability and wades into the fracas on equal footing with the menfolk.
Which does make you wonder why she (literally) mucked about in the fields all those years waiting for either her husband or Russell Crowe to show up, since she obviously could have resolved things long ago without either of them, especially with about 90 percent of the bad guys thousands of miles away busily inventing Islamophobia.
But, on a more practical level, as she came thundering across the sands waving her sword and striking down villainous soldiers, a question arose in my mind:
How much does Cate Blanchett weigh?
So the question is not whether women are courageous. Indeed, Marian's female Celtic forerunners on that Sceptered Isle were known to ride into battle, most notably Boudica, who nearly drove out the Romans.
But Boudica rode to battle in a chariot, not astride, and it's not entirely clear how much of the actual fighting she did herself, which is not a sexist statement so much as a practical one. Some leaders battled, some directed battle.
The point being that it hasn't got anything to do with "courage" or even precedence. It's simply that any women who rode into battle probably looked a lot more like warriors than like warriorettes movie stars.
Well, at least the ones who rode back from battle.
As a well-known scholar of ancient Britain once noted in a slightly different context, "It's a simple question of weight ratios! A five ounce bird could not carry a one pound coconut."
Similarly, a 120-pound woman warrior -- even, or perhaps "especially," one wearing 50 pounds of armor -- who repeatedly leans over from the back of her horse to swing her sword at 200-pound men is not going to remain upon that horse for very long.
Though what if two 120-pound woman warriors were to ride across the field holding a trip-wire between them ...