What the?

I know I should know the answer to this (being a biologist, after all) but I'm stumped.

I saw this photo in an interior design magazine and I'm trying to figure out whether the creature on the furry ottoman is an alpaca or not. I think the context (an alpaca in a London apartment?) is contributing to my confusion.

Thoughts?

Trained

The dog has me well trained.

She stands on my chest every morning, willing me to wake up (usually before 6am).

I go downstairs to heat her food (Did I mention Truffles has mince, rice and vegetables for breakfast?).

She comes down when it cools sufficiently to eat.

After she eats, she goes to toilet, and then runs back up to bed.

No sleep ins for me.

Stylish

I don't care much for boxing but I do care for folks with a sense of style. And Conor McGregor has it in spades.

Dump

Nathan and I went to an open house inspection yesterday (yep, I might be soon moving to the suburbs...let's see).

The house was beautiful but I was perplexed I couldn't find the second bathroom/toilet.

The mystery was later solved when we figured out that the locked door leading from the laundry was, in fact, the toilet – and that another prospective buyer had been taking a dump.

It got me thinking...is it ok to be using the toilet for number 2s at an open house?

All clear

Went to see my electrophysiologist yesterday. The second heart operation seems to have been a success and he hopes he will never have to see me again. The feeling is mutual.

On my way out of the consulting rooms, I received a text from Nathan saying his grandmother was in the same hospital getting some tests. I decided to go up to the ward for a visit.

Nathan's grandma is a fiercely independent lady who lives on her own in Inverloch. She had a fall in the bathroom ten weeks ago - and hasn't been right since. Nathan's aunt finally decided to take her to hospital here in Melbourne to see if they can figure out why she is still in pain.

Nathan's grandmother is all about appearances. She had her hair cut specifically for her hospital stay (though she complained that the hairdresser had cut it too short). When I saw her, she was wearing a necklace under her hospital gown. The nurse made her take it off for her x-ray appointment.

The most amusing thing of all was when she introduced me as her 'friend'. The nurse looked at me strangely to try to figure out the nature of this somewhat odd pairing of elderly caucasian lady and younger asian man.

The ring

The poster for the horror movie says it all. Before you die, you see the ring. That's pretty much how I felt last weekend.

My friend and I were wandering along Gertrude Street and she wanted to go into a jewellery store for a browse. I obliged.

I'm not a jewellery wearer but I did appreciate the craftsmanship of the pieces in this particular store. In fact, my eyes almost instantly gravitated towards a beautiful (and large) silver stag beetle ring. Maybe it was the biologists in me but I was mesmerised. So, of course, I asked to try it on.

Big mistake.

The ring got stuck.

At first, I think my friend and the store owner thought I was joking. And I assume people do occasionally joke about these things. But it was no joke. I tugged and tugged and it just wouldn't come off. I then contemplated just buying the thing to cut short the embarrassment ($500 isn't that expensive, I thought to myself).

The store owner, ever the professional, rushed to the back of the shop and returned with a bottle of hand wash. He squirted some of it onto my finger. But nope, the ring was still stuck.  

He then retrieved a bottle of water and ushered me outside onto the busy sidewalk. By this point, I had seen the ring and I truly wanted to die.

Fortunately, water did the trick and I managed to slip the ring off my finger. I politely handed it back to the shop owner, apologised profusely and quickly made my exit.