The Lord really is EVERYWHERE

This morning I have laughed until my sides ached.

The picture is of Angus the Terrier's anus. I apologise for the crude nature of the image but, it is claimed, that Angus (bless his little cotton socks) has the image of Jesus on his bum.

He has appeared on a website called Getbehindjesus.com, (pun intended or not, I wonder), and on a news piece.

Here are some quotes:-

The image of Christ on Angus looks exactly as the Bible pictures His resurrection…perfect!

"It's hard to understand the meaning of this appearance, but one thing is for sure, that dog's bum looks incredibly like Jesus."

"The Lord really is EVERYWHERE!"

"Dude, Angus really does have Jesus on his butt…that is so cool!"

"God works in mysterious ways...this is a reminder for us to always be faithful."
"Truly a holy event"

"If we can see the Lord's handiwork all over creation then I would say that dog's ass is a good example."

"People look for a sign from the God, but I don't think He would send us a message on a butt. Maybe God wants us to doubt the sign and then have faith? I don't know anything."

"That's one special ass!"

"I came to your site with sacrilege on my mind but left having been touched by a pet/Jesus union."

"Even Holy Mary would recognize her son there on the dog's thingy…"

Angus' personal Jesus was first discovered on the morning of Sunday, July 2, 2006. The family was waking up when Angus began to perform his morning ritual. He stretched forward then leaned back sticking his rump high in the air. At that moment, the morning sunlight hit Angus' rear end and low and behold…
"It's Jesus!" Angus' father exclaimed.
Ever since that sanctified day, the image of Jesus has graced Angus' buttocks.
It is believed that Angus may belong to Jessica White, a photgrapher and artist based in Los Angeles.

If this is a joke, OK. If it's serious, oh dear.

Hands up all those that can see Jesus on this dog's bum!

Kats:0) (going to lie down in a dark room)

UPDATE ON THE B. O. A. T

BRING ON ANOTHER THOUSAND is what BOAT means, I have discovered over the last few months.

In July we decided to bite the bullet and take her out of the water to antifoul, and various other bits and pieces which we needed to convert this to a live aboard suitable for our needs and comfort.

So access to our home has been up an aluminium ladder, a bit of a novelty at first but that wears off very quickly. However the dog has taught herself to go up it, which will come in very handy when we send her out to work when we have thrown our last thousand into the floating money pit. Gofer on a building site might suit her newly acquired talents.

Anyway Thursday morning was our last chance to be lifted back in because of boats coming out for the winter, the crane going for a service, and lack of space in the Marina. It was Thursday or next April, and there is no way we were going to live up in the air for another few months. The pic above is of her being lifted off the cradle (please note the lovely shiny bottom).

Stress is an understatement when you have to stand and watch your world being hoisted, on what to me looked like two very flimsy canvas straps attached to a very large crane that creaks and groans and I swear wobbled as it took the weight.

Over she came and was lowered gently into the water and held there whilst being checked for leaks.

Mr. Kats jumped on board and opened the engine bays. He went white, his arms started going round like windmills and the cry of "Get it out, lift it up again!" was probably heard in the South of England. Three of the boatyard guys sauntered over and peered over the edge and declared it would take a week to sink with that leak and sauntered back to the crane to roll cigs and have a quiet snigger at Mr. Kats state of panic.

I have to say it was quite a sight watching Mr. Kats run to the Chandlery to get pipe, see him running back again, still white, arms still flailing. He's a very laid back bloke, and in 12 years it's the first time I've seen him rush, or panic about anything.

The leak was duly fixed and we were left to to float gently in the water.

It took a couple of days for various friends to stop, on the sight of Mr. Kats, from throwing their arms up in the air and shouting, "Get it out, get it out" before collapsing in a fit of giggles.

Me? I'm just enjoying being gently rocked to sleep at night, never regretting that momentous decision borne out of misfortune, to sell our house, our belongings and take on a totally different way of life.

West coast of Scotland, here we come, next spring.

Kats:0)