Some things are more important than others. . .

My favorite reading partner at WLRN public radio on Tuesday mornings had a serious problem to discuss with me this week. We have a full hour to prepare for our on-air time, and during the past  couple of months we've discussed the state of the election, the state of the union, and the state of our kids.  But today was more serious business.

Marianne needs to decide on a name for her new puppy.

You have to be an animal person to understand the importance of this weighty decision.  Her family is currently holding a voting poll on the subject, with the daughter in Washington, DC standing firm for one name, son in NYC lobbying for another, and husband opting for a third.  The new puppy is a two week old red poodle and won't be arriving at the family home until early December, but Marianne is determined that the name have something to do with "red".  . . her latest entry into the race is "Huck", as in Huck Finn who actually, according to Google, had reddish hair.

The whole subject of animal names fascinates me.  Our first dog when I was a kid was named Frisky. . don't think that would play today where my current friends' dogs are named Henry, Lola, Lolita and Jake.  My daughter has a friend who named her rescue dog Vitruvius.  What can I tell you.

Our first cat was named Zeus because he came from Athens. . .Georgia, not Greece.  Zeus was an elegant bluepoint Siamese, so when we adopted a forlorn little rescue tabby with no fancy credentials, we named him Percy Pureblood.  I tried to enter Percy into a local Cat Talent Show once as "G. Gordon Kitty, Paper Shredder". (It was during the Watergate bruhaha for you who are old enough to remember.).

As most of you know, Ginger and Wasabi run the show around my house and J.W. Rosenblatt holds sway at the significant other's apartment. You'll find Jake and Zoey at Andrea's house. How they got their names is a whole other story.

I'll read again with Marianne on Tuesday morning and find out who won the poll.  I'm not betting on Huck, but you never know.
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Photo caption:  Waiting to be named. . .

Speaking of Third World countries. . .

You just can't help but be proud!

Only 48 hours after the election was called for Obama, Miami-Dade County has announced they have completed counting their ballots.  Well, not exactly completed, even though it seems like Obama is well ahead. They still have several thousand provisional ballots to count until they are ready to actually sign off on last Tuesday's election. 

Don't be so picky.  After all, the entire State of Florida was the only blank area on that frozen iceskating rink map at Rockefeller Center at 1:30 in the morning when Romney made his concession speech.  The whole State gave up counting around mid-night and called it a day. . . a very stressful day, to say the least, especially down here in Miami Dade.

Don't know about your ballot, but ours was ten pages long and written in three languages:  English, Spanish and Creole.  By the time you got to the spot where you could actually make your mark, you forgot why you were there.  If you didn't come in armed with either the Herald's endorsements or your own list, once you actually got in the voting booth you could count on being a minimum of a half hour to an hour if you were a slow reader.  No wonder the lines were so godawful long!

Our wonderful Governor cut our early voting days in half, and made sure there was no voting on Sunday, the traditional day for "church voters". . politico-speak for Miami's black community.
You have to marvel at those who stood for as long as five hours and until 1:30 in the morning in order to have their vote count.

On second thought, I am sort of proud of you, Miami Dade, even though once again Florida is the laughing stock of the election.  The set-up might have been terrible and the State Legislature and our Governor did everything possible to dissuede you from voting, short of putting up a fence and staffing it with dogs.  But you did prevail. . .even if a few days later than the rest of the country.
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Who let the dogs out. . . .

It was Howl-O-Ween at Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden yesterday. . .the once-a-year time when dogs are welcome in the Garden, and they came by the droves, ranging in size from miniature Yorkies to elegant standard poodles. and gorgeous Labrador retrievers.

When Benard and I climbed into the tram cab to begin our 10 o'clock tour, we were greeted by
close to a dozen four-pawed guests, sitting bright eyed and bushytailed on the tram seats, looking for all the world like they couldn't wait to hear us dispense fascinating bits of botanical information.

I cracked up.  Whipped out my iphone camera and began clicking away.  Believe it or not, these doggies were better behaved then some of the guests we've had on tours.  Not to mention that I don't generally insist on kissing my visitors on the top of their heads.

Our "dog day" wasn't over after leaving Fairchild, however.  We have a new "Paw Park" here on the island where I live, and while we don't have a lot of little kids, we definately have lot of little dogs.  (There's a weight limit of 25 lbs for a pet here.  Benard's cat, J.W. Rosenblatt, is in serious trouble of exceeding that limit, but that's another story.)

Word was out that Halloween was being celebrated, dog style, at our Paw Park at 5pm, with cookies and water for four-footed guests, and cupcakes and wine for the two-footed variety.  My friend Sheila and her dog Henry were dressing for the occasion, so Benard and I decided to attend and represent Grove Isle's feline fanciers.  (That's us guys who own cats, not dogs.)  My appropriate mask (see photo) was courtesy of  my nail tech, Kathy, who happened to be wearing it when I had my nails done during the afternoon and I snatched it off her head.

OK, so I'm a little long in the tooth to be enjoying dressing up for Halloween, especially since I just celebrated another birthday, but here's a secret. . . .in some ways, I'm still a little kid.  And I had a ball.
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Photo captions:  Dogs at Fairchild on our tram, ready to be fascinated by my tour!!!  The lady in the cat mask is moi. . that's Benard enjoying the fun. .