tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-271483082024-03-07T15:50:41.871-08:00Today's Arthurdogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.comBlogger1223125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-77601796863658177072010-08-26T22:00:00.000-07:002010-08-26T22:07:02.551-07:00A For Effort<object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/glii-kazad8?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/glii-kazad8?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Okay, just one more video.<br /><br />Corgis + diving = hi-larious<br /></span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-26076676077676913502010-08-26T21:36:00.000-07:002010-08-26T21:42:15.088-07:00Don't Go Away<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/THdA2GbuMSI/AAAAAAAAFqI/Sd97eFKkaYk/s1600/arthur.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/THdA2GbuMSI/AAAAAAAAFqI/Sd97eFKkaYk/s400/arthur.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509943967295090978" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">In case you hadn't noticed, Today's Arthur is on hiatus, but will hopefully reemerge as either a whole new blog, or as a feature on another web site. Arthur himself is definitely <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> on hiatus, and continues to seek out cheese and butt scratches whenever and wherever possible.<br /><br />Thanks for reading and we'll be back soon!</span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-70822654829455317792010-06-01T10:06:00.001-07:002010-06-01T10:07:35.632-07:00Soft Focus Melancholy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/TAU-LmB7MzI/AAAAAAAAFqA/GlwZJGqTamA/s1600/open+my+window+please.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/TAU-LmB7MzI/AAAAAAAAFqA/GlwZJGqTamA/s400/open+my+window+please.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477852890674180914" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Contemplating life, Arthur-style.</span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-83969170842543070432010-04-06T18:51:00.000-07:002010-04-06T18:52:35.204-07:00Hi<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/S7vlRmeWD3I/AAAAAAAAFp4/Jn-C3ZNLQI0/s1600/arthur+hi.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 303px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/S7vlRmeWD3I/AAAAAAAAFp4/Jn-C3ZNLQI0/s400/arthur+hi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457207464037846898" border="0" /></a>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-61107006630981485002010-03-25T13:17:00.000-07:002011-03-31T19:02:05.630-07:00(Sigh)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/S6vE_S7jS5I/AAAAAAAAFpw/ItUYNiWxdqA/s1600/arthur+post+op.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/S6vE_S7jS5I/AAAAAAAAFpw/ItUYNiWxdqA/s400/arthur+post+op.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452668365554535314" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" ><span style="font-size:85%;">Yes, dogsitter, I'm aware that part of my leg is shaved, and it looks really weird. Thanks for bringing that up. I went to the vet and this is what they did to me. What did I ever do to them? I had a nap attack while I was there and when I woke up, my damn leg was shaved. Shaved! </span></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" ><span style="font-size:85%;">Hello, would you stop looking at it? </span></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" ><span style="font-size:85%;">Anyway, now I'm being forced to take these little pills, which I can obviously SEE are in my food, and every morning I get this nasty ointment squirted into my eye, like I'm a freakin lab rabbit. Man.<br /><br />The things I do for a lousy biscuit.</span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-51699812310649357292010-03-22T19:43:00.000-07:002010-03-23T18:12:34.906-07:00Fido, Squat With Me<object id="734762" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" alt="Dog Squats Funny Videos" height="376" width="464"><param name="movie" value="http://embed.break.com/NzM0NzYy"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://embed.break.com/NzM0NzYy" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" height="376" width="464"></embed></object><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Oh, man. I almost peed my pants watching this. The look on that dog's face is hi-larious.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:78%;">via <a href="http://www.break.com/index/dog-squat.html">break.com</a></span></span><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:78%;"> (sorry about the commercial that precedes it)</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><a href="http://www.break.com/index/dog-squat.html" target="_blank"></a></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-21837883835935908482010-03-18T19:34:00.000-07:002010-03-18T19:49:23.187-07:00Typdography<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/S6Li00eTcAI/AAAAAAAAFpg/p3jPCukJsck/s1600-h/Dogs+as+typefaces.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 292px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/S6Li00eTcAI/AAAAAAAAFpg/p3jPCukJsck/s400/Dogs+as+typefaces.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450167896138543106" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">I don't think I agree with some of these, although I'm coming around to German Shepherds as Helvetica – rigorous, bold, practical. Maybe.<br /><br />If Arthur were a typeface, what would he be? Definitely a serif, but a goofy one. Not too pristine. Leggy.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/S6LkkqHQWtI/AAAAAAAAFpo/ZZRMTjP5Qp4/s1600-h/arthur.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 304px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/S6LkkqHQWtI/AAAAAAAAFpo/ZZRMTjP5Qp4/s400/arthur.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450169817502866130" border="0" /></a><br />Just a thought.<br /></span></span><br /><a href="http://finelinedesign.tumblr.com/post/423883979"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >fineline design</span></a>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-894331692569905682010-02-28T10:36:00.000-08:002010-02-28T11:57:05.058-08:00Arthur at the Vet<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/S4rKgvzk5FI/AAAAAAAAFpY/_K3txRwT3RM/s1600-h/arthur+at+the+vet.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/S4rKgvzk5FI/AAAAAAAAFpY/_K3txRwT3RM/s400/arthur+at+the+vet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443385763568084050" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">He's back! Despite a lapse in postings, Arthur has actually been up to his usual tricks, although it seems he now has an eye issue that needs to be taken care of.<br /><br />Here he is yesterday at the vet displaying, as my brother-in-law described it, <span style="font-style: italic;">quiet grace and dignity</span>.<br /></span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-85694632890377699322010-01-07T18:32:00.000-08:002010-01-07T18:45:34.847-08:00Please Read!<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />If you are the owner of a dog in the "dangerous breed" category and also have a young child or are around young children, please take this as a warning:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" >Do not leave your dog unattended with young children under any circumstances!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">All it takes is a moment for something to happen:</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/S0abQyxa0GI/AAAAAAAAFpA/0ViL4vSgn5Y/s1600-h/dog+and+child.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/S0abQyxa0GI/AAAAAAAAFpA/0ViL4vSgn5Y/s400/dog+and+child.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424193514023604322" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Sorry, I couldn't resist that. Got it in an e-mail today from my aunty.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >(thanks, Aunty Pam!)</span><br /></span></span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-78952124462321781202010-01-07T15:07:00.000-08:002010-01-07T15:11:14.722-08:00Patch of Green<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/S0ZpQ7KZ8kI/AAAAAAAAFo4/soEVEaQzDDY/s1600-h/lax+dog+run.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 290px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/S0ZpQ7KZ8kI/AAAAAAAAFo4/soEVEaQzDDY/s400/lax+dog+run.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424138540694499906" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Tiny dog run outside the Virgin America baggage claim at LAX.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >(thanks, Mel!)</span><br /></span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-69342129422853012792010-01-05T21:01:00.000-08:002010-01-05T21:09:22.857-08:00Scenes From the Past Year - Thanksgiving<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/S0QaVv-vVHI/AAAAAAAAFow/2xz_cy4xABI/s1600-h/arthur+toenail.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 260px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/S0QaVv-vVHI/AAAAAAAAFow/2xz_cy4xABI/s400/arthur+toenail.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423488812220109938" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">The day before Thanksgiving, one of Arthur's foot pads got infected and he had to go to the doctor and have the fur shaved off his little toe. The pad eventually healed, but the fur took a long time to grow back and looked <span style="font-style: italic;">really weird</span>. Like a creepy fat finger.<br /><br />We should've painted his toenail black.<br /></span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-37056779157297327762009-12-31T12:13:00.000-08:002009-12-31T14:11:21.934-08:00Scenes From the Past Year - Aug 09<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sz0GAJYjTXI/AAAAAAAAFnw/RM55qnvz5o0/s1600-h/arthur.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 276px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sz0GAJYjTXI/AAAAAAAAFnw/RM55qnvz5o0/s400/arthur.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421496126012607858" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Arthur always loves it when my mom comes to the house and gets busy in the backyard. Sometimes she even brings her tools and then the party <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> gets going. Last August, she and my sister were out there reviving one of the trees, and Arthur was more than happy to lend a hand.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sz0ID824HjI/AAAAAAAAFoI/f6RV-AsFl-c/s1600-h/arthur2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sz0ID824HjI/AAAAAAAAFoI/f6RV-AsFl-c/s400/arthur2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421498390392872498" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sz0INCbftVI/AAAAAAAAFoQ/Eu3FzvluHUA/s1600-h/arthur3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 277px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sz0INCbftVI/AAAAAAAAFoQ/Eu3FzvluHUA/s400/arthur3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421498546507461970" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sz0IZd4VfcI/AAAAAAAAFoY/RelXE-y0gtc/s1600-h/arthur+keys+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sz0IZd4VfcI/AAAAAAAAFoY/RelXE-y0gtc/s400/arthur+keys+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421498760034614722" border="0" /></a><br />Well, it was more like moral support, but he was happy to do it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sz0HQiGv2HI/AAAAAAAAFoA/ALdL_qwAoUw/s1600-h/arthur+5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sz0HQiGv2HI/AAAAAAAAFoA/ALdL_qwAoUw/s400/arthur+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421497507038353522" border="0" /></a></span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-53338918902615816912009-12-26T11:12:00.000-08:002010-06-02T22:44:29.098-07:00Foxy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SzZgnjozQQI/AAAAAAAAFnQ/LcVXJdciv6c/s1600-h/inari+dog+4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SzZgnjozQQI/AAAAAAAAFnQ/LcVXJdciv6c/s400/inari+dog+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419625434284507394" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Technically, the statues at the Fushimi Inari shrine complex in Kyoto are foxes not dogs, but they sure looked like pooches to me.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SzZg7qpNBgI/AAAAAAAAFng/yHDxgR6OITM/s1600-h/inari+dog+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SzZg7qpNBgI/AAAAAAAAFng/yHDxgR6OITM/s400/inari+dog+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419625779762628098" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SzZgwwIC9zI/AAAAAAAAFnY/rZDNyD7O2dw/s1600-h/inari+dog+5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SzZgwwIC9zI/AAAAAAAAFnY/rZDNyD7O2dw/s400/inari+dog+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419625592255608626" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Cultural note: "Inari" is the Shinto god of success and prosperity; the fox is Inari's messenger, and therefore stationed all over the temple grounds. The red bibs were tied on by families seeking protection for deceased children in the afterlife.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SzZsFZFfbCI/AAAAAAAAFno/PKC-oFZ5rhg/s1600-h/fox+faces.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SzZsFZFfbCI/AAAAAAAAFno/PKC-oFZ5rhg/s400/fox+faces.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419638041476033570" border="0" /></a><br /></span></span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-34381986969214277482009-12-26T11:07:00.000-08:002009-12-26T11:12:22.348-08:00Disappearing Acts<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SzZfSTyp9iI/AAAAAAAAFnA/yFLphuChqIA/s1600-h/japan+dog+sign+.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SzZfSTyp9iI/AAAAAAAAFnA/yFLphuChqIA/s400/japan+dog+sign+.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419623969741993506" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">I saw the signs, but where were the dogs?<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SzZfZBmCA5I/AAAAAAAAFnI/uRVNjOoRHBc/s1600-h/dog+sign+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 272px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SzZfZBmCA5I/AAAAAAAAFnI/uRVNjOoRHBc/s400/dog+sign+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419624085116289938" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-69014582539666572812009-12-26T10:33:00.000-08:002009-12-26T11:07:39.501-08:00Hachiko<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SzZYFgINtAI/AAAAAAAAFm4/mCHfGFsGbQI/s1600-h/hachiko.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 263px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SzZYFgINtAI/AAAAAAAAFm4/mCHfGFsGbQI/s400/hachiko.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419616053133947906" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">The most famous dog in Japan! You probably already know the story (which was apparently made into a movie directed by Lasse Hallström and released last August?), but in case you don't, here's the five-second version: Man has faithful dog. Man takes train to work every day. Dog shows up at station every night to meet man. Man dies. Dog continues to wait. FOR 10 YEARS.<br /><br />Impressed by the dog's unwavering loyalty, the Japanese government erected a statue in Hachiko's honor outside Shibuya station, now one of the busiest meeting points in all of Tokyo. (You might recognize the intersection in the background of the photo from <span style="font-style: italic;">Lost in Translation</span>.) The crowds come and go, but the dog never moves.<br /><br />Pretty sweet.<br /></span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-85578103565391108302009-12-20T10:14:00.000-08:002009-12-22T19:35:38.594-08:00Dogs On the Brain, Tokyo-style<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy5psgDKkJI/AAAAAAAAFlc/AZW8luwPI-4/s1600-h/asakusa+dog+store+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 292px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy5psgDKkJI/AAAAAAAAFlc/AZW8luwPI-4/s400/asakusa+dog+store+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417383615011655826" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />You know you're in Japan when you can buy a kimono and a geisha wig for your dog in the local pet boutique. Wow.<br /><br />Chris and I were in Japan for 10 days over Thanksgiving, and we stumbled on this crazy shop in the Asakusa neighborhood of Tokyo, a block away from our hotel and down the street from a very old, revered temple. I was keen to buy the wig for Arthur (he'd make such an elegant courtesan), but there were only small sizes available, and Chris gave me his <span style="font-style: italic;">don't-do-it</span> look where he stares at the ground and shakes his head disparagingly. (He's Arthur's advocate for dignity.) So, no geisha.<br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy-eI9R_WfI/AAAAAAAAFlw/Um5juLvJbTs/s1600-h/asakusa+dog+store+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 275px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy-eI9R_WfI/AAAAAAAAFlw/Um5juLvJbTs/s400/asakusa+dog+store+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417722753476155890" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">shop for your dog,</span></span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy_DfqbEovI/AAAAAAAAFl4/4gfbjtjChSs/s1600-h/sensoji7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy_DfqbEovI/AAAAAAAAFl4/4gfbjtjChSs/s400/sensoji7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417763825481196274" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">then go pray in the temple</span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy_D2IEJKmI/AAAAAAAAFmA/PhpXwrwHkqA/s1600-h/asakusa+dog+store+6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 292px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy_D2IEJKmI/AAAAAAAAFmA/PhpXwrwHkqA/s400/asakusa+dog+store+6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417764211395209826" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy_EHuSX_AI/AAAAAAAAFmI/j-X6MFJbDmE/s1600-h/asakusa+dog+store+5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 270px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy_EHuSX_AI/AAAAAAAAFmI/j-X6MFJbDmE/s400/asakusa+dog+store+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417764513713224706" border="0" /></a><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy_EtMsprRI/AAAAAAAAFmQ/h2xkYsZ9sVU/s1600-h/asakusa+dog+store+4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 304px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy_EtMsprRI/AAAAAAAAFmQ/h2xkYsZ9sVU/s400/asakusa+dog+store+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417765157531659538" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">daruma!</span></span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">I actually expected to see many stores in Tokyo like this one, stuffed to excess with wild and crazy things, but there were surprisingly few. Maybe I wasn't shopping in the right neighborhoods. I did like the selection of treats at the gigantic Tokyu Hands store in Shibuya, which is kind of like a Japanese version of Target multiplied by ten.</span></span><br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy_KzSPG8SI/AAAAAAAAFmY/ZvuuluhKOBk/s1600-h/dog+snacks+6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 279px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy_KzSPG8SI/AAAAAAAAFmY/ZvuuluhKOBk/s400/dog+snacks+6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417771859167342882" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Great packaging, but what do the labels say? I have no idea.</span></span></span><br /></div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy_K-O1iFpI/AAAAAAAAFmg/rbGeTahrmVk/s1600-h/dog+snacks+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 241px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy_K-O1iFpI/AAAAAAAAFmg/rbGeTahrmVk/s400/dog+snacks+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417772047233324690" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy_LIN_InvI/AAAAAAAAFmo/_QZoD-MjYHE/s1600-h/dog+snacks+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy_LIN_InvI/AAAAAAAAFmo/_QZoD-MjYHE/s400/dog+snacks+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417772218803855090" border="0" /></a><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">If I didn't know better, I'd have eaten (almost) all of that stuff. There was even a tiny Belgian waffle! I ended up bringing Arthur home a bag of crunchy vanilla balls – a dog version of the snack I used to eat as a kid.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy_Q7iAe8VI/AAAAAAAAFmw/WYd4RVPQQlo/s1600-h/balls2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy_Q7iAe8VI/AAAAAAAAFmw/WYd4RVPQQlo/s400/balls2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417778597909688658" border="0" /></a>Deeelicious.</span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-72051253883682985802009-12-18T08:35:00.000-08:002009-12-20T10:14:10.305-08:00Tokyo Dogs<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy0BpIoe6VI/AAAAAAAAFlM/mrhXtLQBqxU/s1600-h/japan+dogs+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 316px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy0BpIoe6VI/AAAAAAAAFlM/mrhXtLQBqxU/s400/japan+dogs+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416987733000120658" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy0BgXIfvNI/AAAAAAAAFlE/L2Swr5faIlE/s1600-h/japan+dogs+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 310px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Sy0BgXIfvNI/AAAAAAAAFlE/L2Swr5faIlE/s400/japan+dogs+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416987582273666258" border="0" /></a>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-82056370380196545262009-12-07T22:15:00.000-08:002009-12-18T08:34:52.279-08:00Switcheroo<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Today's Arthur is moving! I'm in the process of switching the blog to another host, but it shouldn't be too much longer. I hope.<br /><br />Next post: dogs in Japan!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">UPDATE: The new web site is taking a lot longer than I'd anticipated (mostly because I'm doing it myself), so I'll be posting here until it's up and running. sigh</span><br /></span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-76574894728135777772009-11-10T09:07:00.000-08:002009-12-03T23:17:43.445-08:00C P&F<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Svmd7GC7isI/AAAAAAAAFj4/npT-lkmohEA/s1600-h/zori.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Svmd7GC7isI/AAAAAAAAFj4/npT-lkmohEA/s400/zori.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402522866568366786" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />I've always liked Centinela Pet and Feed because they don't sell animals of any kind. Not dogs, not cats, not rabbits, not guinea pigs. They <span style="font-style: italic;">do</span> carry good brands of dog food, and, as I discovered this weekend, super great toys, like these boiled wool masterpieces for your dog to chew on. I've seen this line, or one that looks like it, at a fancy online boutique.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SvmgGIyuZGI/AAAAAAAAFkA/XZor7er-bsw/s1600-h/whale.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 261px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SvmgGIyuZGI/AAAAAAAAFkA/XZor7er-bsw/s400/whale.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402525255307519074" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SvmgSDRYRyI/AAAAAAAAFkI/iQ-jNNerUrg/s1600-h/dog+head.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SvmgSDRYRyI/AAAAAAAAFkI/iQ-jNNerUrg/s400/dog+head.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402525459983910690" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SvmgaBklApI/AAAAAAAAFkQ/WGtgiZaAN0Y/s1600-h/cat+ball.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 303px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SvmgaBklApI/AAAAAAAAFkQ/WGtgiZaAN0Y/s400/cat+ball.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402525596966519442" border="0" /></a>Just in time for Christmas.</span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-56929373721359621602009-11-02T08:09:00.001-08:002009-11-02T08:47:46.388-08:00Ch-ch-ch-changes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Su8EiDL3PbI/AAAAAAAAFjw/A0MuoSai-W4/s1600-h/no+new+stairs.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/Su8EiDL3PbI/AAAAAAAAFjw/A0MuoSai-W4/s400/no+new+stairs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399539461257641394" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">The new steps off the kitchen aren't finished yet, and Arthur feels a bit put out.<br /><br />He wants a red carpet.<br /></span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-88003805515285713422009-10-20T12:32:00.000-07:002009-12-03T23:18:20.761-08:00Captured On Film<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/St4QbipCHlI/AAAAAAAAFjo/WuW5kT1Vfn0/s1600-h/isabella+rozendaal+On+Loving+Animals.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 279px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/St4QbipCHlI/AAAAAAAAFjo/WuW5kT1Vfn0/s400/isabella+rozendaal+On+Loving+Animals.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394767468977856082" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Hahahahaha! This has to be one of my all-time favorite dog photos. It was taken by a Dutch/Brazilian photographer named Isabella Rozendaal, as part of a series for her book <span style="font-style: italic;">On Loving Animals</span>, and it could not be more awesome. The look on that dog's face! And that puppy chomp! Oh, man.<br /><br />While the book as a whole documents the way the Dutch people, like many people, treat their animals in the name of love, this particular photo is pure slapstick.<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">So great.<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.isabellarozendaal.com/index2.html"><span style="font-style: italic;">Isabella Rozendaal</span></a><br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">(note: Some of the photos from the book on Rozendaal's Web site might be disturbing for cat lovers.)</span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-80056403439719663742009-10-12T11:30:00.000-07:002009-11-10T22:04:18.118-08:00Maybe If It Was Plush and Had a Squeaker<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/StN16DgjzsI/AAAAAAAAFjg/6n2ZkdrWZcY/s1600-h/arthur+and+the+stick.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/StN16DgjzsI/AAAAAAAAFjg/6n2ZkdrWZcY/s400/arthur+and+the+stick.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391782819127348930" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />Arthur generally doesn't pick up anything in the backyard to chew on aside from the occasional avocado or fig. He's just not that interested. So don't get the wrong idea from this picture of him with a trophy log: I had to throw that damn thing around for five minutes before he would even look at it. I think he chewed on it for approximately 5.6423 seconds before getting bored and trotting off.<br /><br />At first I was chalking it up to ADD, but now I think he just has good taste. Would you want to chew on a dirty old stick?<br /><br />I think not.</span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-56978603766213376242009-10-03T10:57:00.000-07:002009-10-03T16:39:23.379-07:00Rescuing From the Heart<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SseQjb04WTI/AAAAAAAAFjY/gKjDuTPYjqw/s1600-h/stefanie+rinza.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SseQjb04WTI/AAAAAAAAFjY/gKjDuTPYjqw/s400/stefanie+rinza.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388434417611462962" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">It's so nice when people with scads of money rescue homeless dogs. It takes so much more humanity, generosity, and imagination, frankly, to rescue a stinky mutt from the pound instead of going to a breeder and be told which dog is "the best." Or worse, going to some sketchy, albeit very expensive, pet store on Madison Avenue and be told by some dollar-driven pseudo specialist which dog has sought-after pedigree. Gross.<br /><br />Check out this <span style="font-style: italic;">New York Times</span> slideshow of a filthy rich antiques dealer who discovered love with a pack of misfits. It's so nice.<br /><br /><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://nytimes.com/packages/html/nyregion/1-in-8-million/index.html?scp=1-spot&sq=1%20in%208%20million&st=cse">One in 8 Million: Stefanie Rinza</a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >photograph by Todd Heisler</span><br /></span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-12808096023848490362009-09-27T18:26:00.000-07:002009-12-03T23:16:59.625-08:00Circle of Friends - Ignacio<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SsATm9vW6iI/AAAAAAAAFjI/MFS--9tbk88/s1600-h/arthur+and+ignacio+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 294px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SsATm9vW6iI/AAAAAAAAFjI/MFS--9tbk88/s400/arthur+and+ignacio+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386326714464266786" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Arthur is very fickle about who his friends are. VERY fickle. When a new person comes to the house, most times he just runs away or stands at a distance, wagging but cautious. Even with people he knows, he will often duck their hands and run for the dining room table.<br /><br />However, there are a few people — lucky or unlucky depending on how they feel about dogs — with whom he turns into a big, slobbery whore. Grins like an idiot and gazes at them adoringly. Can't leave them alone. I've only seen it happen a few times, and it's kind of embarassing in a don't-mind-him sort of way, but also mystifying. Why that particular person? You can never tell who it's going to be.<br /><br />Well, my mom and her good friend Ignacio came to the house yesterday, and the game was ON. Arthur loved loved loved Ignacio, who, yes, is a dog lover; and yes, probably smells like his own dog, but good lord. Arthur sat at Ignacio's feet all through lunch, and not because he had cheese on his plate. I was sitting right next door with a big wad of cheese and I didn't get as much as a glance. We were lucky Ignacio doesn't mind having a fuzzy muzzle in his lap while he's eating.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SsAUNJfTu9I/AAAAAAAAFjQ/vt8W5fQZNBU/s1600-h/arthur+and+ignacio2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 309px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nszEA6AHMkI/SsAUNJfTu9I/AAAAAAAAFjQ/vt8W5fQZNBU/s400/arthur+and+ignacio2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386327370453203922" border="0" /></a><br />All those years of cotillion down the tubes.<br /></span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27148308.post-83844238551352519082009-09-25T17:58:00.000-07:002009-09-25T18:02:45.523-07:00Today's Arthur - Now Advertising For Google<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Yeah, I know — this is nothing new. But it never fails to annoy me.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">From the blogger (Google) Terms of Service:<br /></span></span><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><blockquote>...you grant Google a worldwide, non-exclusive, royalty-free license to reproduce, adapt, distribute and publish such Content for the purpose of displaying, distributing and promoting Google services</blockquote></span><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">I guess you never truly get something for nothing.</span></span>dogsitterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10830248556390515490noreply@blogger.com0