Canine dimensions

Okay, apparently Sandy isn't as spectacularly cute as I think she is, because no one wanted to look at her long enough to estimate her dimensions.

This makes Sandy sad, but she'll get over it.


But, I did say I would explain the reason for the challenge in a few weeks. Being a woman of my word, I figured I ought to follow through.

All of the people to whom I've sent photos of Sandy who have subsequently met her have remarked on her size. Apparently, people expect her to be quite a bit larger than she actually is. This led my husband and I to wonder how people judge the sizes of objects when they have no reference points. We concluded that Sandy's proportions must be more similar to those of large dogs than to those of small dogs. I was hoping for some independent data to support this hypothesis. Alas, it was not to be.

(end note: Sandy, demonstrating a typical dog attention span, has now recovered from her disappointment.


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On the importance of aspect ratio in estimating canine dimensions

I have a challenge for anyone who reads this post (all two of you):

Here is a picture of my dog, Sandy.
Using only this picture for reference, please answer the following questions:

1. How tall is Sandy (floor to top of shoulder)?
2. How long is Sandy (tip of nose to base of tail, assuming her neck is stretched out)?
3. How much does Sandy weigh?

You may give your answers in Imperial or metric units. Estimates are fine. And if you have the urge, feel free to explain where your estimates came from. I'm especially interested to know if you have ever owned a dog, and if so, what kind(s).

If I get enough responses, I'll post an analysis (highly scientific and rigorous, of course). If I get only a few responses, I'll still post an analysis, but it'll be less interesting.

Regardless of the number of responses I get, in a week or two I'll post again explaining the rationale behind this challenge.

Sandy and the House Centipede

I had an amusing interlude this morning. I was in the kitchen getting a glass of water and I looked in on Sandy (my dog). She was curled up in a little brown Ball-O-Sandy on the Purple Chair, which is her usual status at 6:45 in the morning. Just as I was going over to tell her how cute she is, she suddenly leapt off the chair, dashed across the room, and pounced with alacrity on a spot on the baseboard. Just before she landed, I spotted what looked like a small freight train scooting across the moulding. "Ah-ha!" I thought to myself, "It's a million-legged bug!" (That's the scientific name. The more commonly used name is "house centipede" or—if you want to be really dull--Scutigera coleoptrata.)

Sandy has a great passion for catching and mauling all manner of arthropods (an activity we encourage, given that we share our house with a large number of them), so needless to say she was ecstatic to see one with more than twice the usual number of legs. She grabbed it, munched for a minute, and spat it out (this is her usual method—if they're still moving after that, they're still fun, so she goes after them again). The poor million-legged bug was lying on the floor, twitching, covered in dog spit and (thanks to the dog spit's adhesive qualities) dog hair. I expected Sandy to jump back in and give it the coup de grace. However, Sandy had discovered that, in addition to having way more legs than the typical cockroach, centipedes also have way more venom. In case you were wondering, a dog that has been bitten in the mouth by a house centipede looks remarkably like a dog with peanut butter stuck on the roof of its mouth, although with slightly more lip-curling. To save Sandy from further issues (she sometimes lets her excitement about creepy-crawlies overcome her basic good sense), I threw the centipede outside.

After doing some research, I learned that a centipede bite is rarely any worse than a bee sting. (Sandy didn't even yelp when it bit her, and she certainly seems to have recovered—although I think the belly rub probably helped.) I also found out that house centipedes eat cockroaches and other unpleasantness—thereby also discovering why Sandy tried to eat it (aside from the obvious "fun" factor): she was eliminating the competition!

So, I learned that house centipedes (aside from being really eww-y) are good to have in your house, if you can keep them away from the dog. Sandy also learned something: avoid crawlies with too many legs. (Although somehow I doubt she'll remember that in the heat of the moment next time.)

Here is a picture of Sandy:

And here is a picture of a house centipede:

(image of house centipede from Horror Wallpaper; images not to scale)