My mother and I went to see the 3D version of Avatar yesterday and it was pretty good. The scene where the Na’vi shot at the helicopters with bows and arrows before Jake came along was a little much but that’s about the only part with which I found criticism . Having a history degree, I could see lots of parallels between the situation in Avatar and other contacts between Western and native cultures. Even though the 3D version of Avatar was cool, I much prefer giant brooms, Muppets shooting cannons, dogs sneezing on you, etc. When you come out of the theater, there’s no splash mountain or haunted mansion to ride, oh well.
Continued from November entry Unseeing Eye Beagles. Fred liked to be outside but as I said before, his illustrious bloodlines went for naught because he didn’t chase Anything, except cats. It was interesting because at out summer place he would smell cats and bark but it would be the bark he was supposed to use for rabbits. He wasn’t very active other than liking the outside; when he came inside, he would usually lay somewhere and sleep. He didn’t like to go for walks or really to play with toys. Altogether he was a really nice dog despite being a wuss but unfortunately he got cancer or something and had to be put to sleep.
We were without a furry friend again and my mother didn’t want to get another one. It was a few months but my father saw a picture on the humane society’s website and talked my mother into going to see him. A few more trips and they got Max the 5-year-old beagle. Something he has in common with Barkley, our first dog, is that he’s on the noisy side; he likes to bark. He likes to go for walks in the morning and he also likes to go for car rides. The way that Fred kind of was my mother’s dog, Max has become my father’s dog but he likes me more. Max likes to play with toys, especially the soft kind with squeakers or other noisemakers inside them, though he does like to rip the stuffing out of them. He has had one soft toy that has lasted a fairly long time. He doesn’t like the rain or cold and sometimes he shivers; he isn’t out long when it’s cold but for some reason he still shivers. He has the habit from somewhere, of getting the place where he’s sleeping exactly right; he flips his blanket in the air, bunches up the sheet my mom has on the couch and much more. He likes to be covered, so he throws his blanket over him and once he rolled himself in the sheet that covers the couch.