I will admit that it's proven fairly difficult to find things to write about concerning the recent residential addition to my household. She mostly keeps to herself, and I have become a literal shut-in. If Krissy (my other roommate) and I are watching something on the television and I hear her pull up or her footsteps on the stairs I jump into a frenzied panic and bound out of the room like a frightened deer. No joke, I avoid her like the plague.
My dog is not very pleased with the results. Being her mistress, I demand her presence at all times. Tonks follows me everywhere and must stay within eye shot. So whenever I'm home and Krissy is not, I make camp in my bedroom, shut the door, blast the music (being right above Trixie's room, I'm hoping that this annoys her into leaving), close the blinds, and research/read/watch movies to my heart's content. It's not too bad, but it's hardly what Tonks wants to do. She whines and paws and taps at the door begging to go out. I'd love to, but her only other option is her crate in which she already spends too much time. I can't let this dog have full reign of the house.
Anyway, having established the fact that Trixie is exhaustive and abhorable, I have a complaint to make. This can hardly be a surprise, I'm sure. Complaint it is, and it is in regards to her rubbish tossing habits. She doesn't have them. Or rather she does have habits, but she lacks the manners that accompany certain unacknowledged acts that are nonetheless necessary to daily life.
I don't know where she learned how to chuck out her take away dishes, but leaving them on the floor next to the bin is not throwing them out. There's plenty of room in the bin. I got a big one from IKEA that should suffice for a day or two without having to be emptied. But... apparently the floor is appropriate enough for her. I'm sure this has made her Tonks' best friend, since I find Panda Express and Domino's all over my floor. I realize that I gave the implication that I watch my dog like a hawk, but I'm not a hawk now am I?
Nor does she seem to understand what recycling is all about. We have two dumpsters, one for regular trash and the other for recycling. The bin has it there on the lid in nice lists all the things that can be put inside a recycle bin. Paper, plastic, aluminium, but not glass (that makes me angry, but whatever). When I went out to put the post ads out, there at the bottom was a dead chicken. A whole. Bleeding (not really). Chicken Carcass. I knew it was hers because she'd told me the day before that she'd saved the bones to give to Tonks (It really should be common sense that dogs can't eat chicken bones. I realize it's not one of those blatantly obvious no-nos, but it still bugs me that people assume that all bones are okay for dogs.). Next to it was a tub of grapes.
Okay. So here is where we teach a little lesson on what biodegradable and recyclable are, and why they are not the same. Both are adjectives. Both are associated with 'green' living. Both mean that there are special places for these types of waste.
Biodegradation is the decay of carbon based matter, namely plant and animal waste. Your thesis paper is biodegradable. Your salad is biodegradable. Your grandma is biodegrading at this moment, I'll wager.
Recycling is sending things back to be processed through and used again. In regards to paper and plastic and the like, waste is usually pulped and made into something else. Your thesis paper is recyclable. Your plastic bottle you got with your salad is recyclable. A dead chicken is not recyclable.
However, there is a way we can use this. If you would like, Trixie, I would be more than happy to demonstrate to you my prowess in the dark art of necromancy. Necromancy is when you reanimate dead tissue for evil purposes such as instigating a zombie apocalypse or bringing your roommate's dead chicken back to life to terrorize said roommate. For good measure, I think I'll bring her grandma back too.
That is how you recycle a chicken.
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