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My best friend and I have this in common: we find the purchase of new sports shoes a deeply moving, spiritual experience. For him it's more tennis shoes and for me it's more running shoes, but we have the same awestruck reaction. There is nothing else like it. Being present at the birth of your first child may come close.
The subject came up when I went to the doctor yesterday to check out a small growth on my face. The doctor had a close look but quickly pronounced it safe. ``Completely benign,'' he said, and I relaxed. ``It's an age thing,'' he said, which rather ruined the effect.
He gave me the option of having it removed immediately or later, and then asked how my achilles tendinitis was going. This had been the cause of a visit to his surgery five weeks earlier, and I gave him a brief and grumpy summary of my severely curtailed jogging program. The doctor listened and suggested moving off concrete paths and running on grass, and also considering new shoes.
``Anyway,'' he said, standing to end the visit, ``I'm glad I've been able to deliver good news. As I said, that little growth is nothing to worry about.''
``Who cares about the growth?'' I said, hardly listening while counting on my fingers.
``You're right! It's been almost three years. I'm off to get new running shoes!''
Is that a ball I see before me?
DAISY: It is beneath the dignity of greyhounds to chase balls. Like the great Scratchy before me, balls have no interest. One may point to the day Scratchy jumped on a beach ball, bit it, then looked puzzled as it emitted a sigh and collapsed, but this was an exception to the rule. Also one of the funniest things I have ever seen.
No, dear puppies, hear my words: greyhounds do not chase balls. Instead, we chase dreams and wild things. Once upon a time we were trusted friends of Arabian desert princes and chased gazelles and anything which approached our camp in the night. We were fleet of foot and sharp of eye and hearing, protectors of our world.
We are a noble breed, born to elite roles of athleticism. We do not chase balls.
LARRY: I never knew anything could be this much fun. Quick, throw it again.
It was a ball, so let me show you what I think of that.
Who is Scratchy?
I asked Daisy but she just got a funny look in her eye and wandered away.
I asked Mollie the Border Collie we pass on our walk every morning but she said she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.
I asked Frank the Great Dane in the park but he just dropped his tail and told me to ask Daisy.
I need to know because it seems that everything I do reminds someone of something about this Scratchy. When I eat quickly, I’m compared to Scratchy. When I run quickly, I’m compared to Scratchy. Stealing unripe fruit from the peach tree, and consequently throwing up on the sofa, evoke comparisons with Scratchy.
Who the heck is he?
So finally I looked Big Boss in the eye and did the thought transfer thing. Humans don’t know dogs can do this, and it’s not something we do every day, but I’d come to the point where a point had to be made.
So I got Big Boss’s attention and I said, “I’m assuming Scratchy was a former dog you were attached to. Indeed, everyone seems to have been attached to him. That’s fair enough, but you have to stop making me feel like I’m a replacement.
“Stop comparing everything I do to Scratchy. You hearing me, Big Boss? I’m me. I’m Larry. And I’m living in no-dog’s pawsteps.”
I broke the connection and watched as Big Boss’s eyes cleared. Slowly he looked down at me. “Hello Larry, my boy,” he said, and gave me the biggest cuddle I’ve ever had.
Don't call me, I'll call you.
Little Boss used to be a ballet dancer. She was a star, travelling all over the planet dancing famous roles with a world-class ballet company.
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Deloitte Access Economics is, in its own words, one of Australia’s most recognised economics advisory practices. It offers policy, regulatory and strategic advice, forecasting and modelling services, and five “highly regarded” publications offering investment, business and economic analysis.
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Ssshh. If you are going to read this, please don’t tell anyone what I am about to reveal about our new greyhound, Clint.
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Australian media services are in a frenzy today with follow-ups to the story about Shane Warne having a roadside altercation with a cyclist.
Warne, who has dual A-list celebrity status for services to cricket and services to men's hair, was driving home on Tuesday when he was forced to look annoyed at the antics of a cyclist. Some reports suggest Warne may even have gesticulated
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I pick up a copy of today’s newspaper and rise from my desk. I hesitate, then reach into my bag and grab my novel as well. With a slightly upset stomach, I may need plenty of reading material.
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Comment by Chris Champion
on Larry’s Diary: In the shadow of Scratchy
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