I’m rehoming my sister’s dumbass dog. That’s right, this beauty.
She’s getting aggressive with my sister’s kid, and that can’t continue with a second one arriving in February. My place is much quieter and calmer, and I could use the companionship. We all, hopefully, come out better than we went in. All the training in the world won’t make the beastie any brighter, and she’s been known to make boulders seem like engaging company. We’ll see. She is sweet.
This is a strange one but bear with me. Today I’m thankful for cephalophores.
Cephalophores are a particularly colorful category of saint. The word “cephalophore” roughly translates from Greek: “cephalos” (head) and “phoros” (bearer). They’re usually commemorated as people who were executed by beheading, but who didn’t die before picking up their heads from the ground and marching along to some singular spot, demanding to be remembered for this particular action.
I’ve always had a soft spot for the odd and absurd and I think this meshes nicely. So take a moment, lift a glass to St. Denis, and remember that cephalophore is a great Scrabble word.