Sorry, Son

Like any seven-year-old boy,my one-year-old (“That’s all!?” I often hear from my family) Jack Russell spends most of his life bored. A bored young dog is dangerous! From bringing in things from the yard that barely fit through the pet door, to chewing shoes, to bringing out Dad’s unmentionables to the living room, in full view of anyone coming into the house.

Henry’s shenanigans get him into trouble often, and he spends most of his life in the doghouse (no pun intended).  We have tried different things to wear him out. For instance, Mom took him running.  He laid down and called it quits in the middle of a busy intersection (luckily it was in the crosswalk), slept for a few hours when he got home, then returned to typical Henry.

Being a loving mom, I got tired of my family yelling his name (I’m surprised he doesn’t think his name is, “No, Henry!”). And I feel somewhat responsible when my son is being “ typical Henry.”

I saw a commercial that could solve our his boredom problem. Barkbox! Readers unfamiliar with it: it’s a subscription service and every month your canine children receive very cute toys, treats, and chews.  Every box is a different theme.  Last time it was King Arthur’s Court and this month it was Bluebeard.

Henry’s love for these goodies is definitely not vague.  Full and bright!

Actually, over the weekend I got an Amazon delivery, which was shoes, so the box looked like a Barkbox box.  My son went hysterical.  You would have that it was Christmas!  His Grammie actually had to put it down and prove that it didn’t contain anything fun!

I ordered an air fryer yesterday from Amazon, too (isn’t Amazon wonderful!) and it will be here Wednesday.  I am hoping the box is bigger, or it will be déjà vu!

Your Philosophy Lesson For the Day

When Barbara Streisand talked about cloning her dog for $50,000, I thought she was joking. I know we love pets, but come on… Unfortunately Sarah got wind. She has a sick relationship with our family dog. She actually called Pippa her spirit animal and wants us all to contribute to cloning her. For $50,000.

Just because it fit in with the prompt, I looked into it.

The whole thing gives me the creeps, but is quite interesting—in a please-make-it-stop kind of way. Reading about Wolfie and Bubble, the first dogs this company cloned and their poster dogs (more like scruffy rats), I felt like I was getting a philosophy lecture, if not a theology lecture. What I got is they think it’s the first pet’s soul in the new pet. How far back can I roll my eyes?

What’s a gyp is that the company can’t guarantee the two animals will be exact copies. I thought of some questions. If they’re not identical, what if you like the clone better than the original dog? Will you spend ten-plus years feeling guilty? What happens when the clone dies? Do you get a clone of the clone and so on? See what I mean? Philosophy mixed with bioethics.

It all gives me the willies. Like thinking of infinity or space. At the rate science and technology are advancing, I can’t imagine what my ancestors will see. Cloned people? Okay, pets checked off the creepy list–at least compared to cloning people.