My dog Gibno!


I got a dog.

If you follow me on Twitter, you probably already know this. I’m eventually going to get around to introducing him in the cartoon, as soon as I get a few other things drawn and posted first. But yeah, I got me a dog!

My dog

Hello cutie!

This is Gibno, or Gibbie for short. Yeah, it’s not really shorter, in fact it’s more letters, but Gibbie rolls off the tongue easier than Gibno. But his name is actually Gibno. I decided to call him that because of something my dad used to sing when I was a kid. You remember that song about the farmer who had a dog? And the dog’s name was Bingo? And do you remember how you had to spell out the dog’s name as part of the song? Well, my dad would never spell “Bingo.” He always spelled the dog’s name as “Gibno,” “Ognib,” or “Bongi,” but never “Bingo.” “Gibno” was always his first choice for the dog’s name, and so when I saw this furry bundle of joy, I knew I had to call him “Gibno.” But a few days later I realized that it’s actually easier to say Gibbie, so that’s what we call him.

The picture above is Gibbie at about 10 weeks old. He’s now almost four months old, and he’s nearly four times the size he was then!

Gibno, at 4 months old

Wow, did he get big!

As you can see, he has lots of spots. He’s got both blue and red tick marks on him. He’s mostly American Fox Hound, with a little bonus DNA thrown into the mix. He’s a rescue pup, and I absolutely adore him.

I’ll post more about Gibbie later on, but for now, here he is!

Random Sketches – Pavement Crack Psycho Bird

I’ve been doing some more doodling lately, playing around with using random elements to create a character. Here’s a random crack I found in our road.

Crack in the road

Random crack in the road

And here’s the sketch I made based off that.


Psycho Bird

Psycho Bird from a Crack in the Road

If you don’t see the resemblence to the crack above, that’s because I turned it sideways to do the drawing.

The idea for this little drawing experiment comes from the book Drawing and Painting Imaginary Animals: A Mixed-Media Workshop with Carla Sonheim. It’s a fun read, lots of creative ideas in it, and yes, you can find the book on Amazon.

Last Night I Dreamt…

I’ve been tweeting my nightly excursions in slumber land lately, and people seem fascinated that I remember my dreams. I can recall dreams back to when I was around 5 years old, and usually I remember 2-3 dreams a week, sometimes more. Since people seem interested, I thought I’d post them here.

Last night I dreamt I was at college, sort of. I was away somewhere. It was Autumn, and time to head back home for a break. I lived in an apartment, or in part of a house with some other people. Everyone else in the building had already gone off, a few at a time, and it was just me in this big lonely place with one or two other people. We wandered around, trying to get our stuff packed so we could get out the door. For some reason, the place looked like a slew of office cubicles, and I realized I didn’t just live there, I also worked there too, which I hated because that meant I could never get away from this lousy office job I had. I was pregnant, and I really wanted to get in my car and head out so I could meet up with Hubster, but in the course of wandering through the cubicles, I came out into the lobby of a hotel where they were serving a continental breakfast. The place looked an awful lot like the Embassy in Chicago where we stayed this summer. Hubster was there, talking to some people that I was supposed to impress. Maybe they were friends of his from work. But all I could think about was how I had to use the restroom, so I excused myself and went to find one. There was a men’s room on the lobby floor, but not a ladies (apparently it was still under construction or being renovated), and I had to follow these detour signs that led to the ladies room up on the fourth floor. But when I got there, that ladies’ room was cordoned off too, for repairs, and more detour signs led to an elevator that I knew went 27 floors up. The elevator was one of those glass jobs that ran along the outside of the building, so you could see yourself shooting up into the stratosphere, and there was no way in hell I was getting on that thing and going up that high. I had this terrible fear that it wouldn’t be safe, and that maybe I’d somehow fall out of the elevator and plunge to my death. So I abandoned my quest for the ladies’ room, and headed back down to the lobby, where I had to explain the whole ladies’ room problem to everyone there.

And then I woke up.

For some reason, being at college while living in an apartment figures into a lot of my dreams. This is odd, because I lived in the dorms all four years I was at Tech. I didn’t get an apartment until I went for my MS at Radford.

Toilets, and the inability to find one or get into one, also show up a lot in my dreams. I have no idea why.