We’ll all miss Steven so much, and I’ll say more about that later. For now, I’m wishing the best to all family and friends who are hurting. That’s what Steven really cared about in the end, though he was very passionately annoyed by knitting, as well.

Steven was often told he was anti-American. I loved his passion, and he cracked us the fuck up every day. This video was part of a series he did for PW called Steven Wells’ America, in which he took sacred cows and basically grilled them for dinner. Below, he reflects on the religiosity of an America that voted for Bush a second time (Steven was a staunch atheist). Toward the end he smiles a bit, so you know that he knows he’s being ridiculous. And that’s part of what was so cute about Steven — he’d rant, but then laugh at himself.

He was born yesterday (not so smart, this kid) courtesy of the agony of my friend Nina Rowe, who I always pay tribute to because she hung in with me through many years of my own agony (including many boring phone calls). Her husband, Glenn Hendler, was also thoroughly involved in the childbearing situation.

I won’t post photos of Ezra yet because he’s barely alive, and thus I can’t ask if he wants to be semi-semi-famous. But I love him already. Congratulations to Nina and Glenn! You have reproduced, and quite well, at that. Good show.

On HuffPost Karen Leland, author of Time Management in an Instant, interviewed a fitness instructor for tips on how to get people to get around the key obstacle of not having enough time to exercise. I was so excited; now I would have the key to solving the problem! Here’s the result of the interview:

Q: What is one way you help your clients get around the time obstacle?

A: By far, the easiest way to get around the time obstacle is to make your exercise the first thing you do each day. Pencil it in and schedule which mornings (i.e. Monday, Wednesday and Friday) you are going to workout. Then you need to schedule everything else around it – dropping off the kids, your hobbies etc.

Q: But what if mornings don’t work?

A: If you just can’t make mornings work, find a way to schedule it at other times. Plan for a trainer to come to your house, ride your bike to work, take a walk at lunchtime, sign up for a group exercise class in the afternoon or end of the day. The next time you take the kids to swim class, don’t just watch them take their lessons, use this as your time to workout. The time part is more manageable if you put down exactly when you are going to exercise.

Wait, that didn’t help me at all. Shit. But maybe it helps you, so voila! Now you have answers.

Don't let me blow away

Bystanders at a Detroit-area flea market were stunned this weekend when high winds from a passing storm picked up a couple’s Chihuahua puppy and blew her out of sight.

After two days of searching and consulting with a pet psychic, Tinkerbell was found almost a mile away in the woods dirty but unharmed. …

“We were shocked when we found her,” Dorothy Utley, 72, told The Detroit News. “You don’t know how happy we were. We love her so much.”

It’s a Bird, It’s a Plane, It’s a … Flying Chihuahua?

My Chihuahua never ceases to amaze me. She seems really dim, but it’s all an act. I guess she had to chew the bottom of the paper to get it out of the notebook.

Last night I had to put Popcorn, my beloved hamster, to sleep. He had an abdominal mass and the vet felt he couldn’t be saved. I cried and cried, but was embarrassed to cry over a hamster. But he wasn’t just a hamster. He was my friend. He had all kinds of funny habits. Here are some:

1. When he was ready to wake up and be held, he’d climb on top of his wooden house and assume his boxer stance. He’d stare out at the bars until someone noticed him. Then I’d scoop him up and he’d crawl into a special position in my cupped hand and that’s when I’d give him lots of kisses. And he’d close his eyes while I did so.

2. When I put him down on the table and scratched his back, he’d stand still to get maximum scratching. He loved having his back scratched.

3. If he was put on the kitchen counter, he’d run straight behind the bread basket, where he’d thrown himself onto his back and wriggle and flip his body all around, like a little otter. He liked it even better if you shook the basket while he did this.

4. If he was put on a different part of the kitchen counter, he’d run straight behind the TV, and if someone tickled him with the remote, he’d turn on his back, thrust his legs into the air, and delightedly wiggle around. Sometimes he’d just stand there and look for the remote, in case we forgot.

5. He loved yogurt chips, green beans, carrots, lettuce, mini croissants, pear, mealworms and just about anything else you offered. He often crammed his cheek pouches full of food and then he’d deposit it in different places in his cage, as hamsters do. Once he put the entirety of his bedding in his face, and I had to pull it out. He was mad at me.

6. He was very particular about having at least a few pieces of food in his wheel. He liked to run in his wheel with food pellets in there. If I took the food out to stop the incessant clicking sound, he’d get out, find a pellet, and put it back in. So there.

7. No matter the time of day or how tired he was, if he heard the crinkle of a bag, he’d stumble out of his little wooden house with his eyes half-shut, and beg for food, still asleep. Before his illness, he was quite a little fatty.

8. Sometimes he escaped and ran under the washer, where there’d be lots of clawing and scratching noises. Then he’d smell some pear, and come out.

9. He ran like the devil in his ball, but if he wanted to come out, he’d follow me around and then sit on my feet till I took him out.

10. He jumped off tables, countertops, beds, pillows — he was fearless and unbreakable. Until last night. I’ll miss him.

If you know anything about bunny body language, this is one happy little lop. And the music just makes it. Ah, j’aime Charles Trenet.

Kingsford Goes to the Beach – video powered by Metacafe

Sen. Margaret Dayton, R-Orem, and several supporters say they are not against the animals, which have a soothing affect on owners who may suffer from emotional or psychological difficulties.

But Dayton says the law needs to be rewritten to differentiate between those animals and service animals such as guide dogs, which have unique training and certification that therapeutic animals may not.

“If you have a note from a marriage counselor that says you need to have a cat with you because you’re so stressed not having a companion — that meets the [current] requirement,” Dayton said.
…
For Chyrisse Haydon of Clearfield, an 8-year-old Chihuahua-poodle mix named Gizzmo soothes her anxiety and post-traumatic stress disorder, which she suffers as a result of her experiences during the war in Rhodesia decades ago.

“If I don’t have him with me, I don’t leave my house,” she said.

But critics complained Tuesday about the lack of specifics on shots and training and the vagueness of the law.

At Brigham Young University, the University Accessibility Center receives about one therapy animal request per month, and most are approved.

“So long as a mental health practitioner says it would be helpful, we’re pretty much bound by that,” said director Michael Brooks.

It’s an interesting debate with all kinds of serious implications, yet I found two passages very personally meaningful:

1. “Legislators had laughed on hearing that one college student asked to bring his sugar glider, an animal that looks like a flying squirrel, to campus.”

Okay, hello? They don’t look like flying squirrels! You’re talking about my Champ, Buster and Rosie, so watch it. Does this sweet face, peeking out from a robe, look like a menacing flying squirrel? Please.

2. “Most of the requests involve dogs and cats, although hamsters have joined the list.” And what’s wrong with that? Here’s a photo of my hamster, Popcorn, thinking: Can I come with you to work? Please?

Thanks to Erin for sending this along so we can start the day right. From the BBC comes a report of a mailman who found an abandoned otter pup:

Mr Wilson said the otter had come from the nearby Gala Water and “looked terrified from the noise of the cars and would soon have been hit”.

“I popped her into the mailbag I had in the car and carried on up the A7 and just kept hearing little squeaks and sucking noises to imply she was hungry,” he said.

“I stopped at Tesco at Dalkeith and bought some kitten milk and fed it through the tube of a ballpoint pen.

“She seemed happy enough and during our journey she kept crawling up my neck looking for more warmth.”

Jesus Christ. Am I made of steel? Sucking noises? Warmth-searching? I want to die for this little otter, I really do. As they’d say on Cute Overload, I’ve just died from the Qute.

Otter tours Scotland in postbag