I would have thought pterodactyls would have been a bigger problem in La Canada, due to its greater distance from The La Brea Tar Pits. Just goes to show me. Better keep some Purina Pterodactyl Chow in your pocket to fling over the balcony in case of an attack. And get John McCain to work on another mythical problem. There's probably a multi-trillion dollar solution to that one too.

Well, it turns out that the pterodactyls are all over the hills; they actually go out as far as Arcadia, where they are really big.

Apparently a lot of the medium-size ones nest in the Angeles National Forest, and that's what worries me. I don't mind the bitty ones--I was, in fact, thinking of putting out some pterodactyl feeders for the sub-foot-long ones--but the biggers ones apparently swoop in and steal the feed. They are reportedly more aggressive about that than squirrels.

And one has to watch out for the teeth, of course. Though I do have experience with Mandy, and I might be able to simply say "no!" or "ouch!" (She respects "ouch" more than "no," because we sound serious when we say it: so my mother has started to say it when she isn't in pain, like when the dog jumps on the new couch.)

I have never tried to train a pterodactyl. But, really: how hard could it be?

Maybe get them to extend their feeding range about 350 miles due northwest. That should take care of a lot of problems.

No can do: too many friends/relatives up there.

Including the second-youngest set of nephews (the nieces/nephews go in clumps: early twenties, college age [Chicago area] the two Bay Area schoolkids, and the baby/baby enroute [in Connecticut]).

I don't know why I flagellate myself over not having had kids: there are plenty of 'em around, after all. I just have to decide which nieces/nephews I need to snooker into taking care of me when I get old.

Maybe I should make it a point to get rich. Then the snooker-ee can cut a better deal in my will, and everyone wins. ;)