Subsets

With a nod to mom’s inner anal retentiveness, and a wink to her being what we call “a few french fries short of a Happy Meal”, we’re going to talk about subsets today. Subsets? Yes, subsets. Obviously she was influenced by yet another grade school teacher—this time a math teacher. Subsets, which I guess new math calls “Venn Diagramming” are entire sets of things that are subsequently grouped into sub categories depending on their similarities. Mom, for whatever reason, is always noticing the subsets in our family. (Well we know the reason….she’s a bit “odd” so to speak. Doesn’t mean we don’t love her, but she’s a tad strange, y’know? Now you know why I cock my head when she speaks. I’m like, “huh”? *HOWL*).

Here’s how she subsets our family. There are 13 animals, including our foster sister. That’s the set. Now here are the subsets. There are two humans. There are 4 dogs. There are three cats. There are four horses. But there’s more. Let’s talk color subsets: there are five black and white animals. There are two blond animals. There are three gray animals (mom and dad refuse to enter that subset yet). There are two “red” animals. There are two “dun” animals (not quite blond). There is only one “bay” (brown) animal. Then there are sexes. We have boys and girls: 8 boys and 5 girls. Then there are the color variations. We have, as what is referred to in Aussie land as “tri-colored” and “merles”. We have a black tri and a red tri (one subset) and a black merle and a red merle (the other subset).

For whatever reason, our subsets are always acting in subsets, too. For instance, me ‘n Sophie, the red subset, like to bark and like to play in water. The black and white subset of dogs, Gracie and Ditto, always eat lying down. They also don’t like to play in the water much. The merle AND female subset, foster Gracie and sister Sophie, are very needy and push everyone else out of the way for attention. Mom and me and Patches are always talking—the chatty subset. And so it goes. Within sets there are multiple different subsets and mom manages to point that out, too. *Sigh* On a walk, we have dogs, girls, merles, tri’s, reds, and black/whites. Watching TV, the girl subset of Sophie, Gracie, Patches, and Mimi are ALWAYS together with mom (oh and have I mentioned that this is ALSO the “Homeless Girls Club”, a source of perpetual resentment in our house? Perhaps another blog rears its head with that line.). But the TV watchers are also cats and dogs, black/white and merles, and the rogue tortoiseshell and blond….

The point you ask? Evidently mom needs more focused activities in her life. Or maybe she should volunteer at remedial math classes. But really, I guess it’s that while we all fit into one subset or another, we’re really just one big set in the end. And you humans are too, you know. We’re all part of the bigger set and so are you. We’re all mammals. We are living, breathing organisms, creatures that feel love, pain, fear, and happiness. We get hungry (well, I do a lot and so does mom—hey there’s a subset!) And we all like being part of a pack—the bigger set. You have two legs, and your colors are different than ours. You have different hobbies (you act different), and you have opposable thumbs, we don’t. But in the end, we’re all family, even the horses, we’re one big set, and we like that. Everyone’s a subset, even of one, of the bigger set. And that’s the neat thing. We’re alike but different, even us dogs.

So, that ends our math lesson for the day. And I’ve exhausted myself being philosophical. Need to go eat now. But please share: are there subsets in your house?

Thanks for reading everyone. I hope you were bearmused today.

Monikers

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet."

Ok, I’m no Juliet—I’m not even a girl! And I surely am not a Shakespeare aficionado, nor is my mom, but at least her Sophomore English Teacher got through at one level, so she says. Me? I like to listen. Reading’s not my strong suit. Mom tells stories and I just love to listen. Like me, she talks a lot. Some will say (my dad for one) that’s where I learned it. But it’s really not true. When mom picked me up from my first home I was chatty and, well, I have never stopped.

But alas, I digress. Sorry. Srsly. (That’s an inside joke that I’ll explain at another time). Today’s topic is NAMES. Why, you ask? Well, mom, heavily influenced by dad, loves to come up with names for us. What do I mean? Ok, for instance, my given name was “L’il Bear”. Um, for those who have met me, that’s not an accurate description of me. So first thing mom and dad did was to change my name to Pooh Bear. Ok, I’m cool. “Winnie the” was a super guy and well I have no problem having his moniker. And, funny, I sorta look like him. But it didn’t end there. Oh no, we now have MORE names for me. Like, Pooh Bear Dog. Or, Poohsie. Poohsie, you ask?

I have a human niece, who, several years ago, was studying Greek mythology. Mom was playing along (she does that a lot) and came up with Poohsis. The Greek God of fuzz. If you ever saw me in my full winter regalia, you’d understand. So I became Poohsis for awhile and, of course, it was shortened to Poohsie. When I get shorn like a sheep every spring, I become Fuzzles. Fuzzy Wuzzy was a Bear? You get the picture. So then it became Poohzles. (I told ya mom was weird).

But my names are pretty benign if you compare me to my brother Ditto or my sister Sophie. Wanna hear those names? You’ll feel sorry for them by the end of this posting. Well, let’s start with Ditto. He got his name because his face is an almost exact duplicate to the cat Patches. Plus he was my mom and dad’s second Aussie, so he became “Ditto”. Sadly, it didn’t end there. As a pup and young adult Ditto used to prance. A lot. Back to mom’s bizarre imagination, he became Sir Prancelot. He was called Precious Pup (mom and dad’s first “pup” since the beloved Beasley and well, dad likes cartoons) and as a pup, he went potty A LOT. Dad called him Ditto Cadiddlehopper—have no idea where THAT came from—and it evolved (or is it devolved?) to Cadiddlehopper Cuss, which further morphed to Cussy Buster. Don’t ask, I’m running out of space! So in the end, his full name became “Sir Prancelot Peepin’ Poopin’ Precious Pup Ditto Cadiddlehopper Dog”, otherwise known as Cussy Buster”. Our other human niece, when she was a young pup, thought that to be hysterical. Say it again, Auntie! Us? We just sighed and went back to sleep.

Dakota used to be Dakota Opie Wigwag Dog. Wigger Wagger. Koter man. Rig Rag.

And poor Sophie. Well, I’ll just say it and know that it’s born out of all of her antics. Her names are: Princess Peanut Pantaloons Pogo Poutie Pusser Prairie Pup. Otherwise known as Sophie-ona Peanut. Itsy Bitsy Pogo Sticksie. (Have you picked up on the fact that mom was terribly influenced by that sophomore English teacher???)

So, what’s in a name? You figure it out. Terms of endearment for sure. And probably a mom who has not been channeled in the right direction. But the best part is that she talks to us and calls us those names and the sound of her voice is the sweetest sound in the world. In the end we really don’t mind at all. Call me anything you want just don’t call me late to dinner—hey, another topic for another blog!

How about you? Do you have special names? Please share, I’d love some company to my “misery”. *HOWL*.

And, thanks for reading everybody. Hope you were “bearmused” today!

Welcome to My Blog!

Hi Everybody! Welcome to my Blog. It’s hard to believe it’s been 3 months since I was attacked on Easter morning, but it’s sure been an interesting journey. If you’ve “friended” or became a fan or “liked” me on Facebook you know I have A WHOLE LOT to say. I love doing my daily postings on Facebook, but realized the next logical step was a blog. My wish is to have even more fun, meet even more friends, and talk a bit more in depth about different topics. Don’t worry, though. This will be a weekly thing for now, and I’ll still do a daily post or two on Facebook! *AWOOO*

Where did Bearmuse come from? Well, I can tell you. According to dictionary.com, to muse is “to comment thoughtfully or ruminate upon”. To amuse is: 1. to hold the attention of (someone) pleasantly; entertain or divert in an enjoyable or cheerful manner. 2. to cause mirth, laughter, or the like 3. to cause (time, leisure, etc.) to pass agreeably.

Furthermore, to bemuse is “to bewilder or confuse”. Similar words are “distract and befuddle”.

To Bearmuse is to entertain, to make you laugh out loud, to cause you to ponder, to distract and confound, to help brighten your day, to maybe change how you look at something, and, most of all, TO HAVE FUN. Hence we have Bearmusings. And since I’m only 25” tall at my eyes, well, it’s my look at life from that elevation!

This blog does not have to be all about me. Of course there will be my stories, my commentary, links to my videos, and there’ll be pictures, but I’d love to have feedback. Suggest a topic. Offer to guest blog (mom has to approve, of course), but I’m not the only one with great thoughts. Wanna share dog treat recipes? How about good books (mom’s crying through one right now!). Want to tell our friends of a neat place to hike or camp? Need a place to show off your dog’s agility skills or herding skills? I’m open to most anything. There is only one rule. We play nice. No growling. No biting. No attacking. We might put our ears back and give “the look” but this place is not for any nastiness. The world is too full of that as it is. This is a happy place, with only the occasional sprinkle of seriousness.

And of course I will dictate all of this to Mom. I have a new email set up so you can talk to Mom off of the blog if you wish. It’s BearDogMom@gmail.com. But this is my site and you’ll only know my mom as “Bear’s Mom”.

So welcome one and all. Share this with your friends. I look forward to hearing from you and I really hope you were Bearmused today!