15 Vs 75

I’ve been reading my favorite blogs, finding out the hot buttons for the day. Some days I can jump right in with an opinion, a comment or zap out my own article if a nerve gets too raw. I was reading about the “word police” in the Middle East, wasteful spending at NASA (by the way that’s redundant), the cut and run policy of the Democrats and why they should never be permitted a chance to run this country and things like that; all well written articles by the way.

Roxie, my 75 pound mix American Boxer, Lab, Dalmatian, Pit Bull ( Not necessarily in any order or proof of ancestry ), Roxie was quietly resting on the floor when Bubba came out from her spot in the window. Bubba weighs all of 15 pounds but has made her dislike for dogs in general well documented, Roxie in particular.

Bubba’s exit from behind the curtain put her on a path that would lead directly in front of Roxie. She paused momentarily and tilted her head as Roxie stopped breathing. Roxie turned to stone as Bubba pranced past her nose and into the entry way where she sat down and did some last minute preening, about a foot and a half away from Roxie.

This was a power play, no different than a star slugger going into his victory trot around the base pads after watching a baseball’s majestic arch as it clears the right center field wall and lands in the upper deck. Bubba had proven her superiority, Roxie belongs to her.

Bubba eventually tired of the game and walked off into the Den. Roxie had remained motionless, all except her eyes which could not track any further to the side, being physically limited by the anatomy of such structures.

“It’s okay, Roxie, she’s gone now.” I called out and Roxie did one of those deep breathing tension relieving exercises where you can hear the air being drawn in and then expelled prior to coming over to thank me for protecting her interests.

Now, does anyone wish to discuss Israel Vs the rest of the Middle East?