EXCLUSIVE SPACKLE PHOTO: Joe Biden Greets Hero Dog Conan

By Biff Spackle, Staff Cub Reporter III

Hat tip: Anon. Visit BadBlue News, my Drudge replacement for 2020.

GRAPHIC: Your Jealous Dog

Visualization blogger Robert Kosara points us to this interesting graphic that he labels an example of "data journalism".

A...recent example was on the behavior of dogs in different settings. The data again came from a paper, which even included almost the exact same chart that was used in the NY Times piece. But only almost. The key differences are what turn a boring bar chart into an interesting, readable one: color, spacing, and some cute drawings. Enough for Kaiser Fung to use it as an argument that visualization can be worth paying for.

Here's the actual graphic:

Hat tip: BadBlue Tech News.

AWWWWWWWWW: Half-Dog Lives!

Cutest pup ever.

Meet the half-dog. Unlike the half-cat, the half-dog is real.

The half-dog's name is Duncan Lou Who. Duncan Lou Who lives with the good folks at Panda Paws Rescue. His two back legs were removed early in life; he uses a wheelchair sometimes but hates it.

Duncan Lou Who loves to run, and I can't stop looking at him.

Hat tip: BadBlue Fame (yes, BadBlue has an entertainment channel cuz, yes, there's a culture war underway, too).

Papa B got a new dog

Oh, this figures.

I got a new dog to guard our house. It was a little more than I thought I should pay, but I think when word gets out we'll be a truly crime-free neighborhood.

The nice part is he is a year old and already fully trained. For your safety you might want to call the house from the driveway while remaining inside your car!

Not directly related, but still.

A Meal Fit for a Would-Be King

From the brilliant Sweasel:

It's what's for dinner. And, apparently, it's also the other white meat.

Bumper Sticker o' the Day

Dog: It's Not Just for Dinner Anymore

The Daily Caller's brilliant Jim Treacher discovered the ultimate counter to the progressives' latest pathetic attacks against Mitt Romney. Back in the eighties, the candidate and his family apparently vacationed with their dog, which was transported in a carrier strapped to the family Truckster's roof. Baby boomers will recall that this practice was commonplace in that era.

In any event, Treacher recalled an event recounted in one of Obama's several autobiographies: as a child, young Barry Soetero -- his name at the time -- enjoyed an entree of roast dog. It's not just for dinner any more.

"With Lolo, I learned how to eat small green chill peppers raw with dinner (plenty of rice), and, away from the dinner table, I was introduced to dog meat (tough), snake meat (tougher), and roasted grasshopper (crunchy). Like many Indonesians, Lolo followed a brand of Islam that could make room for the remnants of more ancient animist and Hindu faiths. He explained that a man took on the powers of whatever he ate: One day soon, he promised, he would bring home a piece of tiger meat for us to share."

In short, Treacher's response to the Romney vacation allegations turned out to be the rhetorical equivalent of a Blake Griffin dunk over Pau Gasol. The reactions have been priceless.

Sondrakistan offers us the exclusive picture:

And John Hawkins relays this very special Obama campaign button:

It's a "Dog Eat Dog" world in Washington.

I refer, of course, to the outstanding Eddie Bunker crime novel and not the recent canine kerfuffle.


Update: MOTUS:

An Epiphany About the Political Leanings of My Pets

I've finally figured it out. My dogs are Democrats. Consider the evidence, which I must say is overwhelming:

• They don't work -- they lay around all day, only getting up to bark at the occasional passers-by.

• I work all day to support them.

• I pay for their food and they eat what they want, when they want and -- if they don't like the food -- they bark at me.

• If they get sick, I pay for their health care.

• I provide their shelter and they live as comfortably as I do -- heck they even sleep on the foot of the bed during the winter so they can leech heat from me.

• And when they want to be otherwise entertained they just stand in front of me either bark or beg.

I'm telling you flat out: these dogs are Democrats just as certain as Michael Moore is a communist.

Photo o' the Day: Connections

Doc Holiday:

This picture was taken right after the earthquake in Japan...

...and shows you how every living thing on this planet is connected (Thanks to Billy Zero for the photo)

Motivational Poster o' the Day

 

Old School Dogfood Ad

If I didn't know better, I'd think this was part of a plot to overthrow the human race.

Either that, or a cry for help from my dogs.

Dog for Sale

Papa B sends us this unique offer:

Dog for Sale

Free to good home. Excellent guard dog. Owner cannot afford to feed him anymore, as there are no more drug pushers, thieves, murderers, or molesters left in the neighborhood for him to eat.

Most of them knew him as 'Holy S***.'

Important Notice for Dog Owners

Dave W. writes:

Please read!

If you are an owner of a dog that belongs to a 'dangerous breed' category and you also have a child or a visiting small child please take this as a warning.


Don't leave your dog with a small child unattended under any circumstances!


Only one little moment was enough for the following to happen.


See the photo below.

Leader of the pack: R.I.P.

From Dave...

My introduction to Adam, a scrappy little puppy, white, fluffy-coated, pug-nosed Shih Tzu, was sudden, thrust upon me be my then wife. We had agreed not to get pets without consulting each other. “But, he was sooooo cute, and Sarah (our not quite one-year old) just loves him,” she said. “And he only cost $600!”

“What!?!” I exclaimed. She quickly retorted that it was an investment. We could breed him because he was pure and had papers.

A week later, she had poor Adam fixed. So much for my Shih Tzu Ranch Empire.

Maybe that’s when I started to feel empathy for the little guy…and him toward me. We bonded, as only dog and man can. The roles completely reversed. I became his hero and my wife turned on him, a foreboding sign in our marriage.

When my wife and I split, the only thing she left me without litigation was my new fast friend, Adam.

And fast he was.

Living on a golf course, Adam and I would venture out on the cart, me driving and him riding shotgun. The pup would dive off at first sight of squirrel, bird, rabbit, or other dogs.

He especially liked chasing a huge Irish setter.

One time, the red dog decided he’d had enough. Adam and Red got into a fur-flying, teeth-gnashing brawl. I threatened the red dog with my wedge. He backed off. It was a good thing because I was under clubbed.

The lead dog must face the cold wind first…
Turns out, Adam was an adventurous lad, determined to find out what the world was like.

He disappeared for a month. I missed my old friend and was worried he had been eaten by a pesky poodle or a small hawk. The ad I put in the paper proved fruitful. Farmers about five miles away called and said they had a scruffy white dog outside their back door barking up a storm.

As I pulled up their driveway, I marveled at how far my little puppy had traveled. Adam was marched out, emaciated and dirty, a torn bandana around his neck. I told his saviors that he looked like a pirate. Then they revealed that he was seen by them and others leading a pack of wild dogs. I asked, “Are you sure he wasn’t being chased for his snack appeal?”

They replied, “Nope.” He’d been spotted by many leading the same pack of dogs for a couple of weeks. One day it appeared he’d had sowed enough of the wild tribe and began barking at their door leaving his vassals rudderless.

When Adam saw me, his head sank and he slowly walked back to my car as if to say, “BUSTED!”

Just when the world is in the palms of your hands, your nose begins to itch
Several years passed. They were happier years. Adam seemed content with his routine of chasing critters both on and off the golf course and snuggling with me at night.

Then he disappeared again.

I was co-hosting a local morning TV show and flashed Adam’s picture on camera. That day I got a call from people who lived in a subdivision about a half mile away.

This time Adam played it smart. He cased the ‘hood and found just the situation he was looking for. He barked his way into the hearts and home of three little girls. Adam spent the next two weeks getting spa treatment, baths at least once a day, hair trimmed, brushed and curled, doggie pedicures, and curls buffeted by ribbons all over his petite, once manly, torn pirate-scarfed little body. The biggest cut of all was the girls renamed him…“Popcorn.” They had given him a doggie makeover or as I referred to it later: they pimped my dog.

I was a little jealous.

Adam, AKA Popcorn, seemed so happy that I offered him to the girls’ dad and mom. They said they were moving and couldn’t take him. Relieved, I lead Adam to the car. He looked back at the spa in remorse. I opened the door and said, “Nice to have you back... Popcorn.”

Now that I’m happily married, Adam is still my best friend. My wife Joni brought a white Westie named Bennie, to the marriage. About nine months ago she purchased a black maltese/shitzu combo named Ralphie.

As Adam aged, he no longer chased critters when riding in the cart. But he maintained his stature in our house like a calm old leader, almost Churchillian in his presence. The other dogs showed their respect with reverent head nips and sniffs.

Adam, at almost 90 in human years, lived an adventurous and at times risky existence.

Hearing the inevitable, my one prayer upon his unlikely reincarnation is this:

Don’t come back as a pesky poodle.

---

Adam Weinbaum died Wednesday, April 15th, at 2:45 PM CDT. He was loved. He loved us back. He was my best friend. He will be missed. May G-d embrace Adam and hold him until I come for him.

"I will see you again... just not yet." From The Gladiator.