photo by Adam Brimer 2008

I love Alice from Cul de Sac.

I like the way she thinks and talks and can often relate to her sentiments. Her words are funny as well as sincere, and while I can possess those qualities separately, it is rare that I am both of them simultaneously.

Sidenote: It seems my sarcastic tendencies have started to get the better of me recently. I've noticed more and more that even when I'm being sincere, people assume I'm not*. While this humors me, it's also something I've decided to work on- just tack that on to my (neverending) Self-betterment To-do list...

I also admire how she unashamedly threatens temper tantrums and freely shares what she disdains (the Uh-Oh Baby) with others. She is fearless when it comes to what she wants to communicate.

I like her.

***

Did you know Bill Watterson is a Cul de Sac fan and supporter?

In the intro of his 10th Anniversary Book, published 17 years ago, he describes Susie as smart, serious, and earnest, qualities he was always attracted to in a woman and the qualities he eventually found in his wife.

He said it would be interesting to see a comic strip from a girl's point-of-view, written by a woman.

Although Cul de Sac is written by Richard Thompson, who is not a woman, sometimes I wonder and muse about the depth of connection between he and Watterson, who has been silent for so many years.

  

* Example: I was telling some friends the other day about my passion for drumlines, and they would not believe me, which made me laugh, which made them not believe me even more. Y'all, I freakin' love drumlines. How could I even be sarcastic about that?

Remember my vicious and sad sheep dog friend? Here's an update.

I've cut him free and we're now living in a craftsmen style bungalow in South Knoxville. He and Juicy are getting along juuust fine...

Sigh... 

No, his life is still tragic, especially now with the summer heat. He spends his days a filthy heap of fur asleep by his house. 

His owners did shave him, so they aren't 100% terrible. Only 99.

I have taken it upon myself to give him treats and a reason to live. Of course, they're dental treats because I mean business in my Good Samaritan efforts. 

The first time I tried to give him one, I called for him to come up the hill to me, but he stayed on the porch. I threw it to him, it bounced off the deck, and ricocheted out of his reach. Fail.

The next time, I had a better throw, he ate it, and stared at me from the porch. Progress.

This past weekend, I coaxed him to come up the hill to me. He's still a little snarly, so I used my trusty stick to pet him. 

I gave him the treat, and then he started doing the same thing he did when I freed him from the tree trunk he had wrapped himself around in the storm- he bounded around playfully. I continued to stick pet him but I knew he wanted something more. 

 

It looks like he has little sore spots on his skin (mange? I should know this, but I don't) where flies keep landing. Or maybe the flies like him because he's dirty. 

 

I did pet him on the head with my bear* hand for about ten seconds. Then I went home to wash my hands immediately.

 

 

In my teeny tiny bubble of a world, this is the most risky thing I've done with my life in a long time. Not only is he unpredictable, but I have this wonderful feeling I'm going to get a gun pulled on me one day very soon. The blinds of the house are closed and I only visit when there aren't any cars in the driveway, but still. This is life on the edge, and it's exhilarating. 

 

 

I decided to give him a name. My first thought was Pookie Face, but then, I thought, no. A desperate dog such as this needs a strong and noble namesake. So I've named him Samuel, after Samuel Hamilton.

*ha!

Note: This is a Juicy/ cat lady post. Read at your own risk.

As far as I know when I was growing up, my mom never took our pets to have their teeth cleaned. They were pets after all.

A few years ago I worked at a vet clinic, and while my gathering of data was not scientific, I'd say about half of the pets we saw had their teeth cleaned every year or so. I had no idea there were that many animals out there with pearly whites.

Assisting teeth cleanings was one of my least favorite tasks at the clinic. Each animal was put into a drug-induced haze and they'd sway back and forth while the high pitched water pick scraped away years of plaque from their teeth. It smelled bad and a lot of times they'd lose some of their teeth. It was gross and made me feel sad. I'd think I shouldn't be here. Not for this.

They say regular teeth cleanings can prolong your pet's life, so when my vet told me Juicy needed a cleaning, I began to fret. While I know she's just a cat, she is my cat, and if I plan on her being around til I'm 85, I should take her in, right? At the same time, it's a lot of money for something that seems both risky and silly. As far as I can tell, animals have been getting along just fine without dental appointments.

While I consider taking her in to have the cleaning (and quietly save up because my love for her will win out), I've purchased her some dental care treats in the meantime. While dental care treats sound like an oxymoron, I can only hope they're helping.

I do know one thing- she's crazy about them. Whenever she hears any resemblance of plasticy packaging being opened, she runs to the kitchen and sits up on a chair. I turn around to see her huge black pupils entranced on whatever I'm holding.

Although the treats are only two calories, I know her body isn't lacking in the food department. It's hard to deny her wild-eyed face, though, and the fact that she's begun to claw at me if I try to pass her without giving her any (out of control). If it's keeping her teeth from rotting out, however, I'm happy to oblige her.

I finished the Juicy Jangles screenprint a few weeks ago. I was toying with adding more to it, but after sitting on it, I decided to keep it simple.

She is a reductive four-color-run print in an edition of 28 on various colors of 14 x 11" paper.

This is the first screenprint I've made in about five years and so to celebrate, she is only $25 unframed. I've listed one so far on Etsy.

Whenever Juicy gets frisky (batting around toys, hunting invisible critters, galloping through my apartment, crumpling rugs and bedspreads) her pupils dilate and her nickname becomes Friska. Though her posture in this drawing doesn't reflect her wild behavior, I wanted to capture how adorable she is in these moments.

P.S. I am so excited. Two cats are now following me on Twitter! (hahahaha)

I did the second run for the Juicy print yesterday. I'm really excited about picking up screenprinting again- I've got some ideas brewin'.





I decided to entitle this print Juicy Jangles, which is Juicy's nickname when she wears her bell necklace. Yes, she has different names for most occasions.