20 min. till EAT

5 P.M.  Everyday at 5 p.m.  I say the magical word "EAT."

3 dogs lift their ears and run to the kitchen.  We eat at 5.  Rain or Shine (unless I happen to forget or I am in another location or... y'know).

2 little dogs get a scoop of dry food  - big girl gets 3 scoops.

Then a squirt of salmon oil - I don't know why - the daughter thinks it is a good idea.

Finally, each gets a big tablespoon of wet food from a can.  Stir and Present.   I am a hero.

Many days all 3 circle me and stare starting about 4.  They cannot tell time, but they know.

That's it.

Morning feeding is done by the daughter.

Perhaps, if we were all fed twice a day one cup of dry food, a splash of salmon oil, and a tablespoon of wet food - just perhaps - we might all lose weight.  I'm not sure about that though.

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After several days of rain, I mowed the yard.  up and down, this way and that.  The mower followed my commands dutifully.  Since my daughter wants the yard to be a mecca of plants, mowing is a challenge.  You must circle everything.  It is doable though.  Tomorrow, or the next, it will be weed eating time to clean up the yard.

While mowing in the front, a golf cart whizzed by - stopped up the street - and came back to where I toiled.  I shut down the John Deere to hear:   "What did you do with your Marauder?"

I am not complaining.  It happens all the time.  People love my 2003 Mercury Marauder.  Since we've been having storms, I stored it inside our shed out of the weather.  It is amazing to me how many people want to buy that car or just talk about it.  Ebay sells them for $14,000.  No, let's change that - they offer them for $14,000.   I cannot afford to sell it.  The Marauder is my backup car if the Flex ever gets sick.  You can't sell your second car for $14K if it costs you $40K to replace it - especially if it happens to be a classic.

None of my children want the Marauder when I croak.  I don't understand it.

6 minutes to EAT TIME...  I love my Marauder.  I wish it had a better radio and the AC worked.  It died last summer.   Maybe, soon, maybe I'll get the AC fixed and have a good radio installed.  That would be nice.  Still, with 167,000 miles on it -it is not really a daily drive.

close

feed

later

m

emailed cartoon

 I get lots of cartoons in emails.   Usually I smile knowingly and move on.  With the one below, I actually chuckled out loud.  It was as close to a full laugh as I have had in months.  I do this hand thing daily with Bruno and Oscar.  Sadie could care less (a dog who doesn't care about food?).    

The email had other good ones - maybe post later.

m

 

If I knew who created this, I'd give him credit.

Babbitt

 Babbitt.

the book

by Sinclair Lewis, 1922

In my father's yearbooks from high school, graduated in 1928, he seemed to have the nickname Babbitt.  He never wanted to talk about it.  I wondered why.  Bought the book after several years. I can honestly say, I have not learned the "why" at all.  Who knows?  Kids say the darnedest things to other kids - even back in 1928.

I am starting chapter 15 and stopping.  So far this is a book of descriptions and inactivity and daily common activity and "something."   After several days of reading (up to page 192), I went online to read the reviews.  Maybe, I am missing something.  Look it up if you wish.  Descriptions of the book write about George F. Babbitt, a middle age Realtor in Zenith (state unknown).  It talks of his bigotry and attempts towards conformity in 1922.  While I was able to read it without falling to sleep, it still was a struggle - too much thinking.  Oh, so many descriptions of individuals.   I spent too much time wondering where I was going in this story.  The first chapter is his getting out of bed in the morning - the rituals.  The 2nd chapter follows him going downstairs to eat breakfast.

The descriptions were indeed excellent.  Sinclair Lewis does a fine job with this.  You could visualize the entire day, step-by-step.  Maybe I was expecting a quicker story line - robbing a bank, beating his secretary to death, ridding a horse naked down main street (yes, I know, most horses are naked)  - whatever.  Nope, didn't happen.  Surprisingly, George F Babbitt has some of my views on Socialism / Communism and other social bits.  He is a little bit overboard on some other events and thoughts.  

I've noticed in this book and the other one I just finished, The complete Father Brown Mysteries by C.K. Chesterton, written about the same time as Babbitt, there is an abundance of racial and ethnic slurs.  I'm sure these were included in the common talk of individuals at the time.  If you offended by certain words  - not politically correct in 2020 - stay away from these books.   As with Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn,  somebody will try to get these banned from libraries and, of course, Boston.

My plan is to take a break and read something else for a while.  Then, I can return and make it to the end of the book.  My book is a slightly damaged first edition from 1922.   A sticker on the inside cover gives the name of the original owner:  Martha Ann Goetz of 817 Five Oaks Avenue, Dayton, Ohio.  I thought I might write to that address after I finished the book and see if anyone would like to own a piece of history of Five Oaks Avenue.  Could be that someone has burned down that section of Dayton since 1922.

I wonder if they had stickers in 1922.  It WAS a wild and crazy time .. The Roaring Twenties.  Since the sticker has no zip code, it had to come before - say 1960 something.  Zip codes started about that time.  I am not going to look it up.

(pause)

I looked it up.  1963.  I graduated from college in 1962 - was married in 1962 - received my Master Degree in Jan., 1963 - took over Sudan HS in Jan, 63 ... I betcha that I wasn't paying attention to zip codes back then.  The last 4 digits of the zip were added in 1983.  There ya go.  Learn something old (new) everyday.  If you ever go on Jeopardy and they ask the non-question, you'll know.    {aside:  Jeopardy is a hard word to spell.  How often do you need to spell Jeopardy?  Rare, I'd guess.  I will admit that I looked it up before I inscribed same on this page.  Tough word, Jeopardy,}

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SNAKES:  I can't say that I've talked about them much recently.  I have encountered 3 black snakes during the past 3 weeks.   One took up residence on my back porch in the corner.  My Sadie had a fit and pointed it out.  Good Dog.   The other two appeared on my steps which go down the hill from my back porch.  Both of them were trying to escape by going through a hole in my landscape wall.   At least one of these was not a friendly snake.   There is something about looking down the mouth of a snake when it is wide open and fangs are glistening in the afternoon sun.

Even if snakes are beneficial to our environment, I worry about getting bit and the dogs being bit.  Snakes don't really mean to kill - I believe - but they will defend territory.   One of daughter Laura's dogs was bit in the eye by some snake.  She was probably just wanting to sniff that strange creature. It would break my heart for my dogs to be injured by some snake that I failed to correct properly.  It would break my heart.

So, I close.  Beautiful day - minimum wind - will get into the 80s today - water sprinklers seem to be working beautifully (it is Sunday).  SeeYa-Mtz

25th day of January

Jan 25 - long, long, long week has just passed.
We have spent in excess of $2500 on dogs - I don't begrudge this spending because it was all necessary - well if you are a bit human and love your animal.
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Bruno had 2 teeth removed.
Greta was discovered with an enlarged heart (heart murmur they call it)
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Yesterday, Greta got up about 6 a.m. - went to the pit and did her necessaries supervised by the wife.  She walked around for a while - ate nothing - laid down in the middle of the kitchen floor and quit breathing.  We knew it was coming, just not the when.
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My wife had a haircut in the morning.  I dropped her off at the place and took Greta to the vet to start the cremation process.  As of this moment, I have yet to have a "good cry" that she is gone - I know, I know, it isn't manly to have a good cry.  Maybe this is because I saw how much she was suffering with the enlarged heart and the wheezing and the cough  and the complete lack of appetite.

side note:  I would put a pill in the middle of a tiny bit of frankfurter.  Greta would take that piece and eat it right down - then, no more eat.  I would like to think she knew what was happening.  I would like to think this.  Please don't ruin my illusion.

Bruno returned to the vet this morning to have a gander at the stitches.  He got a good bill of health and can now go back on dry food.  I can tell you that he doesn't want to go back on dry food.  That canned dog food must be really tasty.  I know we ALL love the aroma.

We got the Flex back yesterday.  They installed a new camera in the back - actually, I would imagine that it was a camera module replacement.  It sorta works [ at least the camera picture is no longer upside down ]. 

I don't know anymore about this than I shall recite.  We were sent a text yesterday while we were in town that police were all over our area and to not open our doors to anyone in a white truck.  How do you spell Omminubuss?   Spel chec says "ominous."  
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Or in the language of  the Hippy:   "Heavy Man, Heavy."   We decided to have a subway sandwich on the way home.  With that done we slowly motored the route.  On the way we met a couple of police cars and a big black machine that looked like an armored car - let's think SWAT team.

They are working on the main road to our housing development.  Workmen are everywhere including one at our HOA's main entrance.  I stopped and got our mail - then I walked over to the workguy and asked questions about the excitement that we missed.  He seemed to know most everything.   One of our neighborhood men went off the deep end - weapons - barricaded eventually - possible threat of suicide - I don't know which neighbor, but I have a pretty good idea.  Yes, this concept is scary. 

We had a home owners meeting this past weekend - with this guy in the room with all of us.  What if he had lost it at that time?  There might be a lot of black arm bands  and  houses for sale today.

I have heard nothing else.  I have asked nobody anything else.  Gossip is not my thing.  Not True:  I like some gossip.  I flagged down my neighbor (ex-policeman).   I found out that the neighbor only knew what I knew -  it seems he stopped and asked the workguy at the front like I did.   This guy could have made a fortune selling information.

The bonkers guy was taken to a hospital for observation.  I do hope that he recovers quickly and things improve for him.   I worked in a mental health hospital in Dallas for a few months several years ago.  It was quite an experience which I believe helped me to get my head screwed back on a little better.  

Band directors have a website run by a guy - they call it a Yellow Board.   This week, a first year teacher / band director wrote that he had just been informed that he would not be renewed for next year.  That means he will be fired at the end of the year.  His posting was depressing - full of sadness and sorrow.  How will he ever find another position if he is fired?   All is lost.  He even wrote something about this being the end and not being able to cope ... you get the picture.  I read it as leaning a bit towards suicidal.  Postings are anonymous so nobody knows who wrote it.

Immediately other directors responded with helpful ideas - see doctor - how to find new job - you want to get out of that toxic environment anyway -  etc.   I suggested he consider returning to school for another degree or even a change in his major.  New beginning.  Ended up trying to say that this is not the end of the world - just a set back.   I do hope this young band director gets it figured out properly.   

I did know a band director who was nervous with major problems coping.  He was in a terrible school - the band sounded like a train wreck - he had inherited this program (not his fault).  It made me so nervous just to be a positive person.   This guy eventually committed suicide.  Such a waste.  I've known two female directors who left their jobs in the 1st couple of months and were put in hospitals.  Nothing is worth going crazy over - find a new path - move on - there is always a better something out there.  I won't talk about the students I knew who did suicide or tried.  Young minds have a problem processing what should and shouldn't be.

I will pause now.  I'm sure this posting has been a real JOY to read.    We are down to 3 dogs:  Oscar, Bruno, & Sadie.  At our age, to add any more dogs would probably be foolish.  Oscar & Bruno (the twins) will be 10 in another month.  Sadie turned 3 last month.  If Sadie lives to be 13 (10 more years), my wife & I will be 88 years old.  If she makes it to 18 like Greta, we would be 93.  It makes you stop and think - or at the most,  JUST STOP.
Later,
m  

cat-dog T-shirt

We got this advertisement in the mail --

a T-shirt for sale with the letters

             O.C.D.

Obsessive Cat Disorder

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www.starcrest.com

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once this bunch has your address, you will receive mail once a week...not email, regular advertisement mail.

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I was told that I need one that says:   

                           

                         O.D.D.

[ Obsessive Dachshund Disorder ]

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m3

Westminster

Just watched 2 nights of  the Westminster Dog Show.  I love this dog show.  It is better than the Eucanupy-Eucanupuh - whatever the name of that other one is - it is better because they show EVERY dog .
My wirehair dachshund didn't win - didn't even get in the top 8 hounds - still a beautiful doxie - 
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A Beagle won.   Miss P.   15" Beagle.   Pretty little thing.  I have a semi-fondness for Beagles because one use to live next door out here.  When those people moved, they left the Beagle behind.  Another neighbor took it.   
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Enough of that - great dog show.
m

home, home, home at last

this be a quickie.
cause me is hot & tired.
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As a preview of coming attractions here on this page, we have just returned from two weeks on the road in our motorhome with our 4 dogs.  I believe that if you are going to travel with a pack of critters, a motorhome (travel trailer) is the only way to go.  If I get inspired, I will write more of the adventure on the next blog.  Right now, we are home and pleased to be here.
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When our two little boys got home, they had what my wife calls a "runaway."  They just ran back and forth and in circles all over the place - inside and out - chortling - making throat noises as they ran. They were so happy to be back home.  30 minutes later, all 4 pooches were coiled up on a bed fast asleep. They were so happy.
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I think I am pleased too - didn't go running around in circles though.
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But the yard - two whole weeks of growth after a substantial rain or two - just waiting to be mowed. What critters lie hidden beneath the grass awaiting my wrong step?  This morning I mowed the part of the yard that requires my hand push mower.  Sure it is a power mower, John Deere driven, rear wheel drive, electric start, loads of power -- nevertheless, mowing outside takes it toll.  Later I'll climb on the ole John Deere tractor and smooth out the rest of the yard.
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The week before we left, my weed eater just quit.  It has the nickname:  "The Terminator."   What a machine!!   But it quit.  It would run maybe 10 seconds then putter out.  I figure the carburetor was dirty and clogged after six years of tireless whacking.  It had lost its air filter too.  Into the shop it went.  They warned me of a two week wait.  Perfect!   Call on answering machine yesterday;  it is ready.
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The week before we left, our ice maker just quit.   It has the nickname:  "The Coolerator."  What a machine!!  But it quit.  No ice tumbling into the container;  none.    I tried to go in and remove the ice maker from the freezer, but it is just too dangerous for me.  If it just needs to defrost, fine.  But, if I break it in the removal process - I get to buy a new one.  After six years of tireless cubing, it stopped.  Clunk.  No more ice.   I am thinking of trying a hair dryer just to see if it would release all of that pent up energy.
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The week before we left, the sound on this computer just quit.  It has no nickname.  Now, c'mon, the sound quit.  The computer tells me I have not installed a sound driver.  Well that is just wrong. Question:  do you argue with a computer?  Waste of time, me thinks.  I'll find a guy in town who can figure this out for me.  I don't listen to much on the computer anyway.  My wife likes the sound things on facebook and I do get some emails which have nice things.
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That's all for now.  I have almost stopped sweating from the mowing.   I soaked 2 (wide) head / sweat bands.  Came in;  drank a big glass of water;   ate a tomato with salt;  now here.  I think I will see if the cool water still runs in the shower.
m3

Fritz

Today:   January 7th  is my little boy Fritz's 12th birthday.   We bought him at a little ranch north of Hearne. We drove to Hearne on that Feb/March day to see what they had.  Our 2 year old Greta rode in the back seat sleeping.  Greeting us was a monstrous white dog - Pyrenees - This big dog hung out and protected their doxies and goats against bad animals.  My Marauder still sports a scratch where that big dog stood on the side of my car and stuck his head inside to lick.
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We went inside and a little black and tan wirehair puppy was placed in front of us on the floor.  It was so cute that it hurt.   Having been told that one's older dog needs to meet the new puppy before buying, we brought Greta inside.   At 8 pounds she towered over that little boy.  We had visions of breeding grandeur with this pair.  That never worked out as Fritz had problems getting the process down.  You do realize that his inability to understand English interfered with me explaining the process.
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Dutifully we place Greta beside the tiny puppy.  She looked at him, took a sniff or two, and moved on to other things. So the great introduction experiment sailed out the window.  Paying our money, Fritz joined our household.  I believe he rode on my wife's lap all the way home wrapped in a towel.  Such a good puppy.
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Fritz at 12 and Greta at 14 means we have several sad days in front of us. Dachshunds seem to live about 15 - 16 years or so.  Our little Liesl is a year younger than Fritz.  The twins turned four this year.  I say all this as Greta stands at my feet popping my leg with her nose:  "Pick me up!"
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We had a birthday party this evening - no hats or little horns.  Instead my wife and I sang Happy Birthday to Fritz (after paying the royalty fees to the composer of course) and each dog was given some doggy ice cream - puppy paws or something like that. Man that was a treat.  Since Fritz, we believe, is becoming a bit deaf, ya might just say that our excellent music fell on deaf ears.  He could care less.  
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Earline  -- our heart transplant girl (see previous posts) has a birthday tomorrow.  If she gets doggy ice cream, it will not be because we drive to Dallas with a quart.  
But, should she read this  - then -
Happy Birthday Earline   
and   
Happy Birthday Fritz
You such a good hungry boy.

Only Greta

Originally I thought of this post as being a 2 sectional thing - but, something irritated me and I may add a 3rd at the end.  If I settle down, then, no 3rd part.   Politics make me uptight.  Some might say I have always been uptight.  Politics wires me up a bit too much - thus - I try to stay off politics on this page.
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#1   So we made a trip to Louisiana and had a good time with the 5 dogs and our Jamboree motorhome.  It was a good trip - willin' to go again soon.  The plantation was interesting;  the city was interesting; the travel countryside was interesting.  We elected to not go to an Alligator farm.  They were advertised as alligators and petting zoo.  I voted no.  Spouse gave no immediate argument.  I dislike alligators much like I dislike snakes.
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#2  Already I have stretched this to 3 things prior to politics.  Our dogs have different personalities and different levels of intelligence.  At least we think they have different levels.   Liesl, the white, seems to be smarter about lots of things.  We have a mechanical device which puts out food if the handle is pressed down.  Liesl is the only one who has that figured out.  She is afraid of thunder and loud booming noises.  The others could care less.  My theory:  She is smart enough to be afraid of the noises.
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Our little Greta, the snake killer, has a personality which is quiet and reserved until riled.  Barking  huskily at big birds flying overhead - she does this with passion.  Greta gets confused sometimes.  She knows certain things but gets them confused with others.   "PIT" we call out to get the dogs to go to their fenced area late at night - they take care of business and come back in, not worrying too much about stray owls or bobcats.  Each gets a cookie after the PIT.
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However, sometimes Greta gets confused and heads for the wrong door.  Or, she may take off for a particular bed to wait for her cookie.  And, so forth.  3 dogs went to the vet for rabies shots.  We have the new tags for their collars.  My plan:  take collar off, replace rabies tag, reinstall dog collar.  It worked like a jewel for Oscar and Bruno.  When I took off Greta's collar, she was headed outside to water the grass.   She came to the back door when finished.  I reinstalled the collar.  All seemed fine.
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She started a high whine and bouncing around the floor.  The other dogs soon picked up on the behavior.  High whine and barking - followed by more bouncing around the room.  She isn't too big at 10 lbs so that is a lot of bouncing.   I couldn't figure it out.  Then, a revelation.  I opened the way for her - Greta bounced to the front door.  She whined and messed with the door.  More barking and bouncing.
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Revelation:  she was ready to go bye-bye - scram - hit the road - go walking - travel to Louisiana - you name it.  The collar.  When I had messed with her collar as we will when attaching a leash, that triggered the response - Time to go on a trip.  Let's go.   bounce, whine, bark -- By this time she had all 5 worked up.   It took a bit to calm her down.  She still is ready to go though.
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I think I will let the other things wait till later.
Oscar needs to go outside and play ball.
m

     

Crusoe the celebrity dachshund

This is not my Wed. blog.  I visited Crusoe the Celebrity Dachshund's website and was amused.  Crusoe will always amuse.

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http://www.celebritydachshund.com/2013/04/03/centerfold-photo-contest-winners/

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I will admit my failings should I ever have any. Perchance I have a minor failing when it comes to my love of all things dachshund. Above is Crusoe the Celebrity Dachshund's website. He had just had a competition for a Centerfold Doxie. You can subscribe to his website.

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My favorite (non- winner) was Jeffrey - a fabulous name and a great looking wire-hair. You should really visit this site - and if you misguidedly think some other breed of pup is better than my doxies, you should start your own website. There could be fortunes to be made.

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Speaking of places to visit - note the line at the bottom of this page.

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Mtz

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When you have a chance, sign up for easier delivery to your mailbox.  See little box on right to check ???

Oscar and Bruno

anticipate this to be a short post.
If I call a BLOG  a BLUG,
Then should a POST be a PUST?
Just sayin'
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Aside:  do you notice that I put a dot between each paragraph?  That is because at times I copy/paste these to emails which I send to my immediate relatives.  My email seems to eliminate all the spaces between paragraphs just like it eliminates the extra space I put at the end of a sentence.  I was taught in typing class to put 2 spaces after each sentence.  My computer never read my typing teacher.  If it had, I would not be having this problem.  She would have straightened him out just as she curved my typing fingers.  But computer programmer trashing is not the context of this blug today.
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Have you ever tried to type any thing when surrounded by 5 love starved dogs who want to be held and loved and played with?  I have and am.  Right now, the situation was:  I sat down at machine and opened this window.  Oscar came and intertwined around the ankles.  I picked him up and he snuggled against my cheek wagging his tail.  Some petting was issued - which I would readily admit in a courtroom.  Behind me a low grrrooowwwwwllllll was issued (that is growl for those who can't read big, long words).  This is the sound emitted by Bruno when he wants attention.
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I rotated in my computer chair - Oscar standing on my chest pressing against the cheek - and look down at Bruno, who in return is looking up making his gutteral sound and vigorously wagging that tail.  Looking into Oscar's eyes, "gonna put ya down Oscar."  He didn't care.  Down he went; Bruno and he touched noses briefly then more low sounds.  I picked up Bruno.   He is the biggest Dachshund we have, a chocolate dapple with a beautiful long nose.
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Bruno stood with his lower legs on my knees and his uppers on my shoulder looking deep within my eyes with those gorgeous greens of his.  We touched noses briefly - no licking - Bruno sometimes will lick, his enormous tongue stretching out maybe, that is maybe, a half inch to barely caress my nose.  He knows where his licker should stay.
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I loved; he looked deep; we talked.  After a few moments I grasped his enormous chest and began to lower him to floor.  As he hit the floor, another low growl as if to say, "That was indeed not long enough."  But he paddled off to the other room.
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Now, Oscar is back.  Beside me is a pillow for dogs.  beside that is a sorta long footstool on  2 inch legs.  We bought it at Wal*Mart and is appropriate for the room.  Oscar is standing on his pillow looking under the footstool with his whine.  I knew automatically, the little mutt had put a ball under the furniture.  He does that.  Oscar loves to play with a ball.  He invents games like hide the ball, and, then, find it.  He can hide the ball and look for it for an amazing long period of time.  But under the footstool is a no-no.  He whines.  I fuss, "Oscar, did you put that ball under that?"  
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All the long, I know he did.  Oscar does that.  Off my chair onto the floor I struggle - hands and knees.  For those without dogs, understand that when you get on the floor, that is an open invitation to all dogs to come visit.  So, I am on the floor, surrounded by loving critters, trying to look under the furniture.  There it is - a ball - as predicted.  I reach under and pull out a small yellow ball.   Bruno is standing next to my hand and grabs the yellow ball running into another room followed by Oscar.
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I return to my chair.  Oscar starts a bark.  It is a protest bark - a tattletale if you wish.  I know what the problem is - the stupid yellow ball is in Bruno's mouth.  We have not seen the yellow ball for a week and now Bruno has it.  Knowing how much Oscar loves the green ball I get up and invite him to help me search for the green ball.  Nope, rather bark at Bruno.
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Few minutes later Oscar follows me as we begin to search for green ball.  Then I remember the footstool which is up against a couch next to the pillow next to my computer chair.  The question:  why did Oscar all of a sudden find the yellow ball after a week?  Back to the room; on my hands and knees; more dog surrounding; peering under the footstool - I spot a round object under the edge of the couch.  It is the green ball.   Pull out the green ball - Oscar grabs and runs off as happily as a .... make up your own metaphor.
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Peace and quiet.  Oscar has his green ball.  Bruno as the yellow ball.  All others have gone to rest in Brenda's sewing room to help her create the next quilt.
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No, this is not the subject of my blug today.  But it shall have to do.  I have tired.
mtz

Rolls & Loafs

Once in a while we make it to Waxahachie (Roger calls it Wax-A-Hachet) for different reasons. Waxa has better shopping than Corsicana and a Quilt store. Depending upon the day and time we will eat at Ryans (A Golden Corral lookalike).

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Every buffet has its own little bits / traditions. If you don't stop the waitress at Ryans, she will drop fresh rolls on your table. Sometimes I tell her "no rolls" and she brings them anyway. They have nice yummy rolls. I feel guilty about leaving good rolls on the table, so I will wrap them up in napkins and stuff them in the wife's purse. The plan: she can have a roll tomorrow.

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Back up to last year. We brought a roll home in her purse. By the time we got home we didn't remember the roll. Fast forward to the next morning. My wife wakes and rolls (cute word) out of bed. There at her feet are shredded napkins and an opened purse. The only dog we can blame was Liesl. She had found the roll during the long night and feasted. They are yummy, remember?

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A few months later - ate at Ryans - lady brought rolls - took one home - wife & I forgot about it - in the middle of the night - the purse was hit again - once again it just HAD to be Liesl. That girl can open a zipper in the dark. Smart Dog.

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Sunday was Father's Day. 20 some miles south of here is the town of Fairfield. There is a restaurant on I-45 names SAMS. They run a buffet and have great BBQ, ham, beef, & chicken. Sam's also has a menu - don't use it...buffet works just fine.

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Sam's has a bit where the waitress brings you a wooden board with a small loaf of bread for the table. They use to give you a choice bread or corn bread. The last two times, we had no choice. It is a little loaf of bread that really has a great flavor.

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We ate and had a half loaf of the bread left....can you tell where I am going with this? Wrapped that bread up, put in her purse, zipped up, and came on home. Yes, my wife walked into our house, forgot the bread was in the purse, put the purse on the floor beside the bed, and went about her biz.

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It is my wife's bedtime. She just came in here and got me. On the floor, beside the bed, a torn-to-shreds napkin, an unzipped purse, and no half a loaf of bread. Once again, I can account for the boy dogs all day and Greta slept the day through in the sewing room. It can only be Liesl. I might add she did not finish her supper tonight.

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When asked if she did this....Liesl got real close to the ground, turned he back on us and her little tail started moving really fast. She crawled that-a-way.

The saga continues.

M