It is Monday morning.  Everyone needs a photo of Bruno.

Who is that white legged dog in the center right?

it is what it is

 I believe that I write best when I am in a good mood ... better when I am in a really good mood.  I thought I was in a good mood when I started just one sentence ago writing the above title.  I have made a mistake.  The Texas Tech (my alma mater) Vs. West Virginia football game is on my TV.  Just as I began to type, three words typed and West Virginia runs a trick play.  The game is now in jeopardy.

Frankly, I don't watch much football on TV.  Several years back, the networks quit showing halftime performances.  I quit watching.  But, when it comes to Tech, I have to sneak a peak once in a while.  What if they turned the corner and became good.  I wouldn't be able to brag cause I didn't know.   As it is, we trod on.  Maybe they will pull this one out.

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Today was another Adventure.  Laura and Tom picked us up, and we traveled a few miles south on I45 to Fairfield and Sam's Restaurant.  Sams has a nice buffet with plenty of good salads, friendly staff,  and 4 different meats:  Chicken fried Steak with mashed potatoes and gravy; fried fish with unlimited shrimp;  fried chicken -about as crusty good as can be fried; and their best -- BBQ sliced beef.   The BBQ was their forte when first they started; and, it is as good now as years past.

Your plate can be adorned with side dishes of okra, pinto beans, macaroni, french fried potatoes, mashed same, the list continues.  My precious family thought I over ate.  Well, nonsense.  At the price Sam's charges, over-eating is a must.  I had the chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes and gravy with okra followed by 3 pieces of fish with a pile of shrimp, topped off by some sliced BBQ and sauce.   Well, yes, I did have a salad.  Well, sorta.  A few pieces of lettuce with 5 cherry tomatoes atop and liberal slices of bell pepper and cheese and radishes.   Of course, I had to get a couple of peppers and green onions.   The unsweet tea was refreshing - all 3 glasses full.  

Did I mention that Sam's brings a loaf of fresh baked bread to the table - you can have cornbread if you wish, why, I don't know???  The bread is so good it could make you forget to watch the football game.

Normal people top off their meal with an enormous piece of pie - or two - or three - or cake.   I had the no-sugar-added (sweetner added) peach cobbler.   it was a fine meal and I do thank Laura and Tom for feeding me... Sometimes, they have fine ideas.  This was one.  Yum.

It is a birthday present.  I turn 80 in about a week and a half.   It is seven hours later, and I am still not hungry. Wonder Why?  I could use some of that fine homemade bread soaked in BBQ sauce.

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It is a good day.  It is nice to get out.  It is nice to be around relatives.  

It is nice to overeat.  (It is not nice to be uncomfortable from over-eating.)

moving on,

mtz

ps. Tech won 34-27  It is still a good day.

Today, Sunday

 It is getting so - that at our age and the virus - anytime we venture forth in the world, it becomes an adventure.  It may be exactly like last year's drive, but this year it is an .... say it with me ....  IT IS AN ADVENTURE.

Yesterday, we drove to Waxahachie (or as my son Roger calls it:  Wax-A-Hatchet).  Laura and Tom have a new puppy.  They want so badly to show it off.  There is nobody available to come see.  I must admit, it is cute - all white Pekingese - about the size of a powder puff.  It runs and eats and other things just like normal dogs.   The little girl, named Selah, can snuggle with the best of them.

We went to see.  Cuteness.  Laura also raises rabbits  I won't say they are cute because everyone already knows that.   I'm looking forward to Selah growing up into a loving little monster.  

After meeting and greeting and loving, we drove to Arby's for food.  Waxa. has a very nice park with picnic tables.  We went.   Nice trip.

Of course, on the way home we had to stop at Buc-ee's in Ennis.   Other than gas and diet cokes, they are a bit over priced on everything.  Still, I never seem to miss an opportunity to stop off.  Adventure over, we came home.

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My pomegranate trees have fruit.  Be jealous if you wish or plant your own tree.  It will produce more fruit in about a year or two than you will be able to eat.  Pomegranates don't seem to have any natural predators or problems other than squirrels.  I took 10 really big ones up to Tom yesterday and I have another 10 or so ready to eat locally.  Good fruit.

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I have an ex-band director friend Joe Michel who is prolific with email forwards.  I cannot imagine where he finds all this stuff.   Below is one humorous item he sent...at least I think it is funny.

but my real favorite is ===>

or or or or or or

I don't know where these originated or I would give author's credit to them.

meanwhile, enough for today.

mtz

Sue - the Cookie Monster

This is my post from March of 2010.  I like it.   I figure none of you remember this from 2010 - That was over 10 years past.   I did edit it slightly.  Enjoy.

mtz

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Quick stone:  We live in the country.  Our neighbors have 2 black Labs:  Heidi and Sue.  They are both smelly black dogs with great attitudes (you'd smell too if you swam daily in the lake and rolled on dead things in your off time )  Heidi is a homebody.  She is home to wag and smell up my hands whenever possible.  Sue, on the other hand, is ADHD and roams the short hills and creek beds.

You have to love Sue, but never "throw the ball" for her.  She doesn't know when to quit. Throw the ball once & you will throw it a thousand times....except Heidi gets jealous and starts romping aggressively around Sue.  Only throw the ball when Heidi is asleep.  Sue NEVER SLEEPS.   Since her real parents work, Sue spends most of her days at another neighbors helping him to mow, fish, hoe, clean his boat - whatever he does.  We call him "Sue's 2nd Dad."

Yesterday morning my wife went out front.  In the flower garden next to the house was a large pile of dirt.  It was not there the day before.  Scratch marks sprouted from the pile.  A dog had been here.   With my foot I nudged the top off the pile - not quite sure who might be buried within.  A bright blue paper point stuck out.  I reached down and pulled slowly and carefully on the bright blue paper tip.  I couldn't believe it.  I pulled out an entire package, unopened package of chocolate Oreos.  There were no teeth marks, just a beautiful package of Oreos covered with dirt.

You know how you wait for something to get here...like Christmas - so you can open presents - or Easter - so you can look for eggs - We waited all day till the neighbors got home last night.  After supper we checked their driveway every few moments.   Finally, I mean FINALLY, they drove up.   We grabbed the crusted Oreo package and trotted out the door, returning their Oreos.  Wait and No!  They had not lost any Oreos.   All knew that Sue had done the deed; Heidi would never.  Sue just sat there on the driveway wagging and smiling waiting to transfer her aroma to our hands and available legs.   A short discussion followed.

History:  Another neighbor down the street has a doggy door in their garage.  Sue has gone into their house before and taken food off their table - carried it out the doggy door & crossed the street to her 2nd Dad's yard to bury the treasure.  We know she has taken a bag of Easter egg candies - a block of cheese - an apple - no telling what else. The owner of that house doesn't appreciate Sue.  Once Sue went into their garage to get out of the sun - they put the garage door down and drove off - Sue went through the doggy door and stayed 2 days in their house until they returned.  She messed up blinds and left secret surprises around the house and ate what she could find until she could be sprung.

I could just imagine Sue sneaking into their house yesterday - she went directly to the kitchen table  (where the goodies are) - acquired the Oreos  (didn't steal - dogs don't steal they just take what people leave out for them)  - carefully holding (caressing perhaps) between the teeth, she pranced the 1/2 mile to our front yard to dig, store, and protect for later consumption .  She wasn't hungry right now.  In the package, Oreos might have stayed for quite awhile.  Not that it matters to a dog - a wet oreo, a dry oreo, a muddy oreo, it matters little.  Sue smiled at us as we returned home in the dark.

Bad Story - but, a good story

I had a tough time Wednesday evening.  I was not alone.  Let's start at the beginning with a tad bit of background.

I have the 3 wirehair dachshunds:  Oscar, 11; Bruno (twins), 11; and Sadie, (say slowly) "Sadie-Is-Four-Years-Old."  My baby girl, Sadie, is slowly coming out of her puppy-behavior years and has developed the ability to bark at any object:  people, squirrels, delivery trucks, leaves falling, sticks, anything.  

Bruno has one great love: Eating.  He can do his share in barking if the mood hits.  We have this one great big white bird (?Heron?) who likes to walk up and down our waterfront.  This is usually too much for a self-respecting, over-weight dachshund.  Of course, he only barks from the back porch.  It is too much effort to lumber down the hill to our chain linked fence and bark.

And, finally, the cause of my sadness, Oscar, is my Ball Boy, possessed.  I understand that if you find a dog that can be possessed with playing ball or Frisbee - or something like that - that singular dog could become a great drug dog.  They will find drugs just to be able to get the ball again.   Oscar is this way.  Eleven years ago, I once wrote a song about Oscar called:   "I am my dog's toy."   Yes, as he ages, he is slowing a bit.  While we were able to play thirty minutes to an hour, now he seems to tire after 15.  Or, it could be me that is tiring; and, Oscar is taking mercy on his good ole dad.  Dogs are smart and would know if I am tired.  I've noticed Oscar can be so very, very compassionate.  

"BALL!!  BALL!!  THROW THE DANG BALL, STUPID!!  HURRY!!  QUIT MESSIN' AROUND!!  THROW THE DANG BALL TURKEY FACE!!  NOW!!  BALL, I'M WAITING!!"

As explained in a previous writing, on Wednesday I give the dogs 1/3rd can of soft dog food with their normal dry food, mixing them together in order to prolong the happiness.  I am not sure this was THE issue which caused our problem.  I mention it merely as a thought and to help the time line.  The dogs were fed about 4:10 that afternoon.  Greedily, the soft food was gulped.  The boys never chew anything.  WE swallow all food whole if at all possible.   On the other hand, Sadie chews every bite, every small kernel, every sliver of food.  I swear she must count to seven with each chew.

Supper over, we go to the backyard for Oscar's ball playing session.  While Sadie will play a tiny bit before becoming bored, Bruno parks his body on a back porch cushion to stare out across his estate - unless, of course, he has decided it is time to share his "woo" with the dung beetles.   I threw the ball down the hill; Oscar snatched it in mid-air; I stumbled down the hill;  I threw the ball again; Oscar watched the ball land within 3 feet of his nose;  he made no effort to retrieve.  

This is not normal.  I threw it three more times.  He made no effort and, in fact, he began to slowly walk up the hill to our back porch.  If I threw the ball in front of him, he might pick it up for a foot or two.  I gave up; Oscar gave up; we went into the house.  Sadie stayed outside to bark and roll in the grass.  Obviously, there was something down there that needed rolling on.

Around 5:30, I could tell Osccar had lost his energy.  He parked on a couch with his head down.  By 6:30-7:00, he seemed even more lethargic, if indeed he could.  My wife and I started to watch some TV as we do every evening.  Oscar gave out a little moan and started pacing about.  I called him to me.  That didn't work.  So I got up and felt his sides.  They were as hard as a rock and extended out.  He moaned and started pacing again.  Next came his efforts at vomiting.  Nothing would come out except foam.

I started looking up extended stomachs on my phone - aren't smart phones marvelous?  What I read gave me great concerns.  Extended stomachs were usually caused by gas - bloating in the stomach.  They started a listing of which dogs are most affected.  It seems that if a certain dogs gets this problem, the stomach will roll over - yes, roll over. When this happens, the blood supply to the stomach is cut off and the dog will die in a few minutes.   Now, I'm telling you, this got my attention.

I won't tell you how miserable Oscar was (and us too).  He paced.  He attempted to vomit.  Nothing.  He did drink water, lots of water.  Somewhere, between 8 and 9, I started looking for a vet.  Apparently, our vet doesn't work after hours.  His voice mail suggests driving to an emergency room in Mansville - about an hour plus away.  I did try to leave a voice message; but his machine wasn't working correctly - the message was so soft I couldn't hear.  I gave up.

I started to guide Oscar to the dog pit to see if he could have better expulsion out there.  I stepped into the hallway, and a string of enormous bits of dog poo (woo, as we call it) extended down the hallway. I called my wife to work on the hall as I tried to get all 3 dogs to walk carefully towards the door.  It was just luck that nobody stepped on anything.  My wife did a great job.

Next, I had her call the vet and leave a message.  Her message scored.  The vet returned the call which I took while standing outside in the dog pit.  Oscar was walking the perimeter moaning, trying to vomit, and panting.  I won't relay the entire conversation; but, it is safe to say that by its end, I had made up my mind that Oscar would be dead by morning.

The Vet made one final suggestion as we ended the call.  I was to give Oscar a spoonful & a half of Pepto Bismo.  It seems that Pepto will / can break up the air bubbles in the stomach.  It was a major project to find the P.B. and the device we use to squirt liquid down the dog's throat ... Hypodermic needle thingy without the needle.  

I suppose that I was able to get about a half spoonful of juice down his throat.  Apparently, dogs don't like pink stuff.  One of MY efforts against HIS resisting effort ended up with a big squirt on top of his head.  Boy dogs don't like to wear pink on their heads.

You don't know what it is like - or maybe you do - to sit in a chair with your dog lying on a cushion at your feet panting, breathing extremely  fast, gagging, and looking up into your eyes as if to say, "please help me."  I went on my knees and loved him.  As I describe this, I still get emotional.  I was losing my boy.  Once again, I swore to never get another animal that I had to watch suffer like this.

I tried off and on to push more Pepto Bismo down his clinched jaw.  Some made it.   Then, at 11 p.m., he stood up and was fine.  His stomach had relaxed.  No more gagging.  We went to the pit where all three emptied their bladders.  We came back in, and Oscar grabbed a ball.  It was over.  On Friday, we got him to the doctor.  His stomach is still a bit big.  The doc thinks he may have an enlarged liver or spleen - we did not Xray.  All seems to have passed.

I do not like feeling like I did Wednesday evening.  I know Oscar didn't.  Bruno and Sadie could have cared less what was happening.  It was the saddest thing to have happened to me since our Greta died at the age of 18 about 2 years ago.   I am not strong when it comes to my puppies.

P.S. AS AN ASIDE.  Dog food from cans is now OUT unless I buy the really expensive stuff.  Instead I am looking at giving them boiled chicken breasts on Wednesday nights.  They will be happy either way.  Who doesn't like a good boiled chicken breast? -- or baked? -- not fried!!

m

Lots of junk here

 SIGH!   Sometimes I marvel at my incompetents at being a marketing genius.  Here I am - 8 plus months into the "hide-from-your-neighbors" period of my life - sitting and watching on my back porch as the world squeaks by.  Nothing of wonder or true excitement has been created within my habitat.  I write.  I read.  I eat.  I sleep.  I play ball with Oscar.  I ... well, you should get the idea by now.  The Corsicana Swing Orchestra doesn't rehearse, so I don't have that little game of fun.  You'd think I could use my brain and find a way to make some more bread.

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ASIDE:  I did make some bread a few months ago.  I like making bread.  I have a couple of recipes which produce fine tasting bread with minimum amount of effort.  Maybe, more bread should be made soon.  I love home made bread.  But, the bread I am speaking about in the previous paragraph has nothing to do with eating.  MONEY!!

2ND ASIDE:   Above I said I was "sitting and watching."  This IS the correct word to use.  You set something down - like a vase.  (I set the vase down. )  You people sit down.  Well, I am just-a- wonderin' in this singular case, since the world has forced me to remain on my back porch, have they not "set" me down?  Thus, wouldn't I be "setting and watching"  rather than "sitting and watching?"  It's amazing what crosses the mind when  you are slowly retreating into madness.

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I have railed about our local paper in the past, The Corsicana Daily Sun.  It is a dying newspaper which the locals can't figure out.  Instead of planning for a future and growth, they do the opposite.  Our paper cuts back its print editions.  Some fool has told them that the internet news is the wave of the future.  Nonsense.   How many people go to the internet to read the news.  I'm sure they have a statistic.  They are wrong.  The paper is about to wither up and die.  You should always plan for growth and make moves that way.  On the plus side:  Less grammatical errors, less improper use of our English language,  less common mistakes that would make an real editor shiver with discontent, and less intellectual commentaries to plow through.  

We had a Methodist preacher here a few years back that tried to plan for growth and the future:  Bayard was his name.  Our church could only look backwards, and in the tradition of Methodist churches, he was transferred.  Our present Preacher is doing an excellent job.  He was the right person for this job when he came.  One of Bayard's saying was to govern for growth and (in my words) execute.

But, once again, I have veered off my desired path into a different subject.  Money.  Why have I not been able to create anything from this Covid-Stupid to make my life richer and better?  I am embarrassed.  I am dumbfounded.

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VEERING OFF AGAIN:  In the Saturday edition of our worthless newspaper are the Sunday comics and the Parade Magazine plus numerous coupons to be discarded.  This week's edition of the Parade features an interview with Sienfeld.  He has a book coming out - publicity is good.  One of the questions is, "Dog or Cat?"  His response is point on.  "Dog.  I have two dogs, but they're not real dogs.  They're dachshunds...."

Right he is.  I have an improved vision of Sienfeld now.  We never - and I mean never - watched his TV show.  It didn't make sense to me.  Well, I had to have watched it some to have formed that opinion.  It was so much fun for so many; but not for me.     "But Not For Me"  great song.  I love to hear Ella sing it.   "They're writing songs of love; but not for me..."  I can hear her now.

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Moving on.

On Page 2 of the Parade Magazine is an advertisement for: TheraBreath.   I quote from the adv.   

"Bad breath can get REALLY BAD when wearing a mask.   STOP MASK BREATH.   Dentist formulated oral rinse.  Use twice a day to keep your breath, and your mask, smelling great.  Stay safe, America."     

Yes, keep America safe.  Isn't that wonderful?  Let's think about this.  Stop mask breath!  Here we are being forced to wear a mask daily, and we must smell our own breath.  What a concept.  Save the public from your breath.  Save America!   Stay safe!   Wear a mask!!  Refresh your mask breath.   This company has a marketing genius on staff.  Use TheraBreath, when you want to NOT offend the person you love the very most - yourself.  Wear the mask - save the street from your breath - Keep Safe America  - and breathe only your own fresh smelling breath.  Hang the onions and chili beans.  TheraBreath!!!  TheraBreath for you!!  TheraBreath for America!!  Stop Mask Breath!!  Stay Safe America!!

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Before I leave, let's deal with something less important.  Shall it be:  World Peace?  Starving children in Africa?  Socialism vs. democracy?  Our failing educational system?  Electric vs. gasoline cars?  Whitey-Tighties?

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I have decided to bless you with a photo of my boy dogs Bruno (left) and Oscar (the Ball Boy)  They were sitting on the kitchen floor in hopes of a morsel of accidentally discarded food.  {I love spell check - it keeps me from looking unschooled - "Accidently" is a fine example.}  Here are the boys & his green ball.

That's it.  Take care America.

TheraBreath!!        Just breathe.

Mtz