Aug. 30, from Louie, Day 80

Dear Pops,

Mom has become most hysterical, ‘n’ you must come home IMMEDIATELY ‘n’ put a stop to it before she ruins my life — not to mention, my social calendar.


At least not until this national emergency is over.

It seems that while I was swimmin’ Sunday (‘n’ totally unbeknownst to Mom OR me), the very waters o’ Bow Wow Beach was bein’ invaded by insidious legions of —


Well, I already TOLD you the water was quite funky, didn’t I? But what did I care? I’m a DOG, ‘n’ if the water is smelly ‘n’ little slimy things is floatin’ on the waves, WTF? Me ‘n’ the other dogs was quite happy to drink it anyway, ‘cuz it was fearsomely hot, ‘n’ the water was cool ‘n’ SO WHAT IF THERE”S A BLOOMIN’ ALGAE scare? They’re just little plants, right? ‘N’ Mom is always tryin’ to slip heapin’ helpin’s of veggies into my food bowl. What’s the big deal???????

But Mom, the ninny, was quite perturbed to discover as we was leavin’ the beach that an Official Notice was posted on the EXIT gate sayin’ the lake was bein’ treated for algae, BUT NOT TO WORRY, ‘cuz neither the treatment nor the algae is a threat to DOGS.

“Hmmmph!” Mom said, ‘n’ she drug me outta there lickety-split.

‘N’ she kept a very close eye on me the rest o’ the evenin’, ever watchful for unusual episodes of barfin’. (Sheesh, I barf all the time. There’s nothin’ unusual in THAT!)

Well, she was calmed down somewhat this mornin’, ‘cuz I woke up frisky ‘n’ perky ‘n’ there was no strings of algae hangin’ from my jowls.

But then after our uneventful walk at Hardesty Park (which she chose ‘cuz of the many errands she had to run in that part o’ town), Mom popped the lid on my Miss Corolla bowl of water ‘n’ — ooops!  There was wisps of brown stuff floatin’ on top. Well, Mom yelped, but she wasn’t fast enough, ‘n’ I lapped it all up, ‘cuz I was powerful thirsty. (It was in the 90s, you know.)

“Oh, Louie!” she wailed.

‘N’ she kept inspectin’ me the rest o’ the mornin’ to make sure I wasn’t goin’ into convulsions or nothin’. It was quite annoyin’.

When I didn’t develop ragin’ tummy rumbles or whoopsies, she reluctantly went off to that EWP, ‘n’ I was most relieved, ‘cuz Mom hoverin’ over a guy is really tryin’ (as you well know). I figured she’d calm down, ‘n’ everything would be back to normal by tonight, ‘n’ maybe tomorrow I could guilt her into a swimmin’ trip.

But nooooooooooooooooooo. Seems that EWP exposes Mom to all sorts of unsubstantiated information, ‘n’ there she was readin’ a story by that Bob Downing fella, who was regurgitatin’ the bloomin’ algae scare across Ohio, ‘n’ suddenly she sees……

SEVEN DOGS HAS DIED from drinkin’ toxified lake water!!!!!!! (She told me this later, so I’m just repeatin’ the facts as relayed by Mom.)

‘N’ that’s when she decided that Bow Wow Beach is now off limits.

Pops, this is waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay stupid! A gazillion dogs is rompin’ at the park, ‘n’ NONE of ’em is sick, least of all, Louie. But MOM says there may be poisonous plants reproducin’ in my lungs ‘n’ my belly RIGHT NOW even as I type, ‘n’ there’s NFW (her words) I’m goin’ swimmin’ again until the Homeland is declared free of these noxious invaders.


It’s gonna be 90 degrees again tomorrow. ‘N’ the next day, when Mom don’t have to work ‘n’ by all rights, she oughta be takin’ me swimmin’.

You gotta do somethin’ about this! I can’t survive this heat wave without some splashin’ ‘n’ water-boxin’ ‘n’ divin’ at Bow Wow Beach. I just CAN’T!

So I expect  you on the next plane outta California, so’s you can come home ‘n’ talk Mom outta this nonsense. 

‘N’ if there’s great gobs o’ seaweed sproutin’ outta my nostrils when you get here, think nothin’ of it.

I’m not the least bit concerned.


Your swelterin’,


Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, just give Mom one of your long, mournful looks, and be pantin’ and pantin’, and then go collapse on the shower floor … and she’ll come around. If that doesn’t work, there’s always your union rep. Course, that means gettin’ Homeland Security involved, and all those meetin’s and stuff like that, and then Mom will have to stop everything she’s doin’ (like fixin’ Louie’s enhancements) to defend her decision. Hmm, OK, I guess she’s right. No more BWB for a bit. Lou, listen to your Mom. She always knows what’s best for you.
Published in: on August 31, 2010 at 1:03 am  Leave a Comment  

Aug. 29, from Louie, Day 79

Hee hee hee.

I got Mom good today, Pops.

Hee hee hee.

She scarified the poop outta me yesterday at the dog park, so I returned the favor today at Bow Wow Beach.

Hee hee hee.

But first, back to the beginnin’.

We had a MOST delicious mornin’ cookin’ up a mess o’ shepherd’s pie (which Mom hopes is the new birthday dinner of choice, ‘cuz it don’t take no time whatsoever to make ‘n’ the results is very, very tasty, to Louie’s way o’ thinkin’). Bein’ as how it was ever so early in the mornin’, Mom was quite clumsy with her ingredients, ‘n’ many MANY scraps of beef landed on the kitchen floor, where it was my job to clean them up.


‘N’ then we took a nice wind-whipped drive in Miss Corolla down to the boys’ house, where Mom proceeded to serve up that wunnerful shepherd’s pie ‘n’ Louie succeeded in beggin’ many many scraps from under the table (plus two WIENERS that Uncle Bob had hidden in the icebox. Uncle Tim was MOST miffed! He’d been savin’ them wieners for his midnight snack!)

After Uncle Tim went off to his own EWP, Uncle Bob started yawnin’ (he’s gettin’ very old, you know), so me ‘n’ Mom loaded up Miss Corolla with many gravy-drenched leftovers, ‘n’ then we took off for —


Oh, Pops, it was just the perfect day for a swim! It was so hot, the sand was fryin’, ‘n’ great green clouds of pee gases was hangin’ over the beach. (Mom gagged as we stepped through the gate, but I thought it smelled divine!) I shot down to the lake ‘n’ IMMEDIATELY started splashin’ myself with all that slimy water. (It hasn’t rained much lately, ‘n’ the lake is gettin’ kinda putrid. Like I said — divine!!!!!)

Well, we started off on our patrol of the perimeter, ‘cuz after all, Louie’s gotta poop many times a day. ‘N’ Mom discovered in embarrassment that we’d gone off on our adventure without benefit of any poop bags. So she veered off to one of the many conveniently located poop bag dispensers to load up on a few, ‘n’ when she turned around to rejoin me on my laps —

I was GONE!!!!!

(Hee hee hee.)

Hey, I’d run into a coupla Labs who wanted to race down the beach in the opposite direction, ‘n’ I couldn’t turn down their invitation to splash with them through the cool refreshin’ water. So by the time Mom started lookin’ for me, I wasn’t anywhere near where I was supposed to be.

(Hee hee hee.)

While I romped with my new best friends, I could see Mom outta the corner of my eye, way way way far away. She was pacin’ up ‘n’ down the shore, ‘n’ since she’d forgot her hat, she was squintin’ this way ‘n’ that with her hand shadin’ her eyes. ‘N’ since there was so many black dogs racin’ around, she was gettin’ quite confused, especially ‘cuz many of them had RED collars like mine, ‘n’ all of ’em seemed to be named Louie. 

Well, I was havin’ so much fun water-boxin’ the fellas ‘n’ terrorizin’ the minnows, I didn’t see no need to run back to Mom for a pat on the head,

‘N’ I’m afraid she got most panic-stricken. From across the lake, I could see her dashin’ from dog pack to dog pack, ‘n’ her pitiful “LOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!” assaulted the fine breezes.

(Hee hee hee.)  

OK, I was bein’ mean. Tit for tat, you know. Mom shouldn’t’ve scared me so bad yesterday.

But when her howlin’ started to sound like real tears, I relented, ‘n’ I shouted goodbye to my buddies ‘n’ I tore like a freight train down the beach, ‘n’ I could see Mom’s face break into a gi-GUND-us smile o’ relief as I whipped around the bend, ‘n’ I leaped into her arms at a gazillion miles an hours, ‘n’ we both flipped head over heels over the sand, ‘n’ I vigorously kicked the abandonment tears offa her cheeks, ‘n’ we was best friends again.

But she did keep AWFUL close to my hindquarters for the rest o’ our romp at the beach.

It’s gettin’ dark now, ‘n’ Mom is whippin’ up a dinner for me drenched in this mornin’s hamburger grease, so I gotta wrap things up. I hope your day is goin’ as good as mine — well, it can’t be, ‘cuz I get to snuggle up with Mom tonight ‘n’ you don’t — ‘n’ soon you ‘n’ me will be tormentin’ the fishes at Bow Wow Beach.

I can’t wait!

Your ornery but lovable,


Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, you are, indeed, ornery but lovable. In fact, I believe mischief is your middle name. What a fantabulous day you had yesterday. Then again, every day that includes wieners and multiple helpin’s of shepherd’s pie leftovers has to be considered a prime, grade A day.
Published in: on August 29, 2010 at 8:12 pm  Leave a Comment  

Aug. 28, from Louie, Day 78

Oh, Pops,

It was so scarifyin’!

I lost MOM!!!!!!!

‘N’ don’t you go gettin’ mad at me, ‘cuz it WASN’T MY FAULT.

We was at the dog park when I inadvertently misplaced her. It was a lovely dry mornin’, with clear blue skies ‘n’ titillatin’ refreshin’ breezes to chase away the stinky old dog pee ‘n’ poop smells, ‘n’ Mom decided it was the perfect day for socializin’, ‘cuz everyone knows the park is ever so busy on Saturdays. So she decked me out in my oh-so-gay dog park collar, ‘n’ I was hangin’ out the windows of Miss Corolla as we zipped down the Merriman Hill, ‘cuz I knew good times was in store for Louie.

‘N’ oh, golly, was I right! There was dogs swarmin’ all around the fence when we got there, ‘n’ they all shouted out a lusty “Louie!” as I pranced up to the gate. I could barely contain my excitement as Mom unleashed me, ‘n’ as soon as she butted open the gate, I was off!!!!

Oh, there was a snowy white husky (not ALL white dogs is bad, ya know) ‘n’ a gray shepherd mix, ‘n’ a coupla black fellas like me, ‘n’ we galloped around the perimeter, barkin’ ‘n’ sniffin’ ‘n’ slobberin’ left ‘n’ right. After the past few testy days with Mom, it was jubilacious to cavort with DOGS!!!! (Mom’s real good to cuddle with at night, but she’s sadly lackin’ in the runnin’ ‘n’ howlin’ ‘n’ rasslin’ department. ‘N’ humans, with their two legs, just don’t know how to relate sometimes to us guys with twice as many legs. ‘N’ they surely don’t unnerstand the satisfaction of peein’ in public.)

So after I run the kinks outta my hindquarters, I discovered the cutest little miniature wiener dog. He was so short, he didn’t even reach my useless thumb claws, but golly, that boy had attitude! He was tryin’ to run with the pack as though he was a Rottweiler, ‘n’ it was just so funny, I had to stop every once in a while ‘n’ pretend to joust with him. No one would ever be able to tell this boy that he was just a hot dog on paws.

But after a while, even he wasn’t so innerestin’ anymore, ‘n’ the sun was startin’ to get a little hot, so I looked up to tell Mom it was time for us to go home to the air conditionin’ ‘n’ — POPS!!!!!


You know the routine, Pops. Mom is supposed to walk around the park while I do my runnin’, ‘n’ every once in a while, I trot back to her for a reassurin’ pat on the head, ‘n’ then I take off again, ‘n’ she keeps walkin’.

Well, in my curiosity over the wiener dog, I kinda lost contact with Mom, ‘n’ I realized in horror that it had been many many minutes since I had rubbed up against her pizza-packed butt.

I whipped my head around in terror, ‘n’ she wasn’t THERE!!!!! No Mom ploddin’ around the fence!

I lifted my snout to the sky ‘n’ sniffed frantically, ‘n’ there wasn’t a single whiff o’ Mom!!!!!

Oh, Pops, my insides turned to ice water. I was alone in the dog park! Pretty soon, all the other fellas would go home with their humans to breakfasts drenched in greasy enhancements, ‘n’ I’d be abandoned at the gate, with no one to feed me ‘n’ rub my belly ‘n’ drive me to Bow Wow Beach.

I was lookin’ at a life of orphantude, ‘n’ it was just shockin’ ‘n’ appallin’.

So I dashed around to all the fellas. “You seen my MOM?” I demanded.

‘N’ they all just shook their heads. “No, Louie,” they said. ‘N’ they give each other sad looks, ‘cuz they know what it means when you’re left alone at the dog park.

You been abandoned.

“My mom wouldn’t do that,” I insisted.

“Right, Louie,” they said, ‘n’ they all sidled away from me, ‘cuz they didn’t want no part o’ this developin’ tragedy.

I spun in circles. “MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I howled. ‘N’ the whites o’ my eyes was rollin’ in my head. My Mom had been kidnapped while I was playin’ with the wiener dog, ‘n’ I was SURE the aliens was torturin’ her even as I dithered!

‘N’ I knew you’d never forgive me!

‘N’ even worse, my tummy was startin’ to rumble for breakfast.

So I dashed madly back ‘n’ forth in front o’ the gate, pleadin’ with the other guys to help me form a posse ‘n’ find Mom.

But they was all cowards. They wanted nothin’ to do with kidnappin’ aliens.

I was sinkin’ into despair, Pops. I was almost ready to drown myself in the water bowls when —

Wait! What was that blindin’ flash o’ light?

Oh, good gosh almighty, was that Mom’s pale thighs risin’ from the bench clear at the other end o’ the park???????

I sniffed. Omigod (excuse my harsh language), there was a faint aroma of Momness! I narrowed my eyes. Oohhhhhhhhhhh, yesssssss, that was Mom’s crappy denim hat hidin’ her unwashed head!

I yelped in glory hallelujahs, ‘n’ I tore across the grass at a gazillion miles ‘n’ hour ‘n’ I slammed into that frumpy bag o’ smelly ol’ T-shirt ‘n’ Reeboks ‘n’ I knocked her right down on her butt ‘n’ I whimpered “Mom mom mom mom mom mom,” ‘n’ I buried my snout in her nether regions.

“Why, Louie,” Mom said quite breathlessly, “whatever did I do to deserve such a hug?”

“Don’teverleavemedon’teverleavemedon’teverleaveme,” I chattered, ‘n’ I wrapped myself around Mom ‘n’ I wouldn’t let go ‘n’ she had to wear me back to Miss Corolla like a mink stole ‘cuz I never wanna ever lose her like that again ‘cuz it would be the end of the world ‘n’ I just don’t know how I’d survive if she abandoned me in the park ‘n’ if she ever scares me like that again I just might slap her silly ‘cuz it was the worst feelin’ in the whole wide world ‘n’ —

Well, you get the picture.

So I glued myself to Mom’s side the rest of the day, ‘n’ even though she DID leave me for a while to go to that EWP, you can rest assured, Pops, that I’ll never EVER let her sneak outta my sights like that again. ‘Cuz that would just be the end of civilization as you ‘n’ me know it.

Gosh, but that was a close call.

I’m gonna chase Mom to bed now, ‘n’ wrap myself around her so’s she can’t even get up to go to the bathroom. I’m never ever gonna lose her again.

I learned my lesson.

Your most frightened,


Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, what a good lesson you learned. That musta been sooooo scarifyin’ for you — I can hardly imagine. But, you should be assured, your Mom will never, ever, ever leave you out of HER sight, even if sometimes you get temporarily sidetracked and lose her. She will always be there for you.
Published in: on August 29, 2010 at 1:18 am  Leave a Comment  

Aug. 27, from Louie, Day 77

Well, Pops, I’ve had my head up my butt.

I’ve been so befuddled by my boo-boos ‘n’ by all that gravy Mom’s been givin’ me (‘n’ by our most unfortunate labor dispute) that I’ve missed the big picture.

But as we was hikin’ this mornin’ through the peaceful forests of Treaty Line, with no peculiar adventures nor hornets to distract my powers of deduction, the pieces started to fall in place, ‘n’ when we took our Pre-Work Walk past the totem pole-in-progress, the dime dropped. (I don’t know what a dime is, ‘n’ I have no idea what it dropped inTO, unless it was a steamin’ bowl of meatballs — but that’s what MOM says happened.)

‘Cuz suddenly, EVERYTHIN’ made sense — the ink-smeared tongue, Annie’s peculiar peein’ habits, the St. Bernard, even the totem pole itself.

The MIB is gearin’ up for a Fall Invasioin!!!!!!

Oh, Pops, the proof is POSITIVE.

Greta of the ink-smeared tongue? Well, she’s scoutin’ the frontier for the aliens, but since their intelligence isn’t so good, they put her in a faulty disguise ‘n’ give her a spotted tongue instead of a lovely pink tongue like a REAL dog. Dumb move on their part, huh?

‘N’ Annie? Well, she’s been possessed by the advance guard, only they sent a boy alien to possess a girl dog, ‘n’ now poor Annie don’t know which end to pee out of. VERY sloppy spy work.

‘N’ the St. Bernard?

Why, Pops! He’s one o’ us!!!! The MIB!!!! He’s my lee-AY-i-zon. If only I’d paid more attention to WHAT he was barkin’ instead of HOW he was barkin’ it, I woulda known IMMEDIATELY that he was a good guy. Me ‘n’ Mom was just so startled by his big  voice ‘n’ fearsome demeanor, I didn’t get it at all!!!!! But this mornin’ as we hiked, I played his woofs back in my head, ‘n’ it was clear as mud! The boy wasn’t threatenin’ to have us for dinner. He was lettin’ me know we was brothers in arms.

Sheesh, how could I been so STUPID???????

‘N’ the final proof is the totem pole. It’s no native American decoration! It’s a secret MIB transmission tower! I figured it out as soon as I looked at its big head in profile. It’s the spittin’ image of Tommy Lee!!!!!!

Well, I’m somewhat miffed that the MIB didn’t tell me all this up front. It woulda made the past few days much less worrisome while I tended to my boo-boos. ‘N’ I wouldn’t’ve been nearly so impatient with Mom last night if I’d known that a major military operation is in the works, right here in our own valley. But there you have it. Even a fine operation like the MIB sometimes goofs up its communications.

I’m just happy I figured it all out in time, ‘n’ if we’re lucky, me ‘n’ the St. Bernard ‘n’ the rest of the MIB will have this new threat neatly wrapped up before you get home, ‘n’ it won’t interfere with your grillin’.

So stay tuned.

I’m sure there will be more installments in this adventure in the next few days.

Yours in relentless federal servitude,


Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, eventually you always figure things out, even if it takes a while. But, I wouldn’t think too long or too hard, ‘cuz, well, you know that kinda confuses you. However, I can just picture Tommy Lee’s face on that totem pole and you may have something there. As for Annie not knowing which end to pee out of … uh, well, you need to work on that theory a bit more. Regardless, I’m glad you are guardin’ the homeland so brilliantly. That’s my boy.
Published in: on August 28, 2010 at 1:21 am  Leave a Comment  

Aug. 26, from Louie, Day 76

Dear Pops,

I don’t mean to sound contentious (especially since your phone call to Mom sounded like you had a contentious day of your own), but fair’s fair.

‘N’ Mom’s not bein’ fair.

Oh, she pampered me most lovin’ly last night when I was sufferin’ ever so much from my boo-boos. In addition to the gravy-covered bonbons, she plied me with many hot gravy toddies, so many that she had to carry me to bed ‘n’ tuck me in, ‘n’ I slept most soundly while SHE patrolled the perimeter ‘n’ growled at the Rockies ‘n’ the paper carrier. (I’ve trained her very rigorously this summer, ‘n’ trust me, Pops, she allowed no degradations to the homeland whilst I recuperated from the sneak attack of the hornets. Mom can be VERY responsible when she wants to be.)

But now this evenin’, she is bein’ most IRRESPONSIBLE.

Since it was her day off, we took a super extra challengin’ hike this mornin’, up the very highest mountains of Sand Run. Mom’s meatloafed thighs was screamin’ uncle as we clawed our way up the very worst slopes, ‘n’ even I felt a twinge or two in my manly back legs (mostly ‘cuz I was haulin’ Mom behind me). But we bravely staggered to the top, ‘n’ eventually, everythin’ was downhill again ‘n’ cool refreshin’ breezes chased us back to Miss Corolla.

‘N’ Mom rewarded me with a hamburger-greased breakfast. Yum!

‘N’ after she run her many errands, she took me for a double walk around the neighborhood, so’s my many legs wouldn’t stiffen up after the rigors of the mornin’.

‘N’ she rewarded me with a dinner swimmin’ in meatloaf soup. Yum!

But I can count, Pops, ‘n’ that’s only TWO hikes, ‘n’ me ‘n’ Mom is supposed to be on three-a-days, just like that Joshua Cribbs fella. We got a big season of FOOTBALL to prepare for. Only while Mom was cookin’ ‘n’ finishin’ her household chores, she let it get dark outside. She SAYS she don’t know how it happened. Why, just a few months ago, it was bright daylight out until way way late — darned near up to 10 o’clock. But now it’s only 8:30 ‘n’ whoops! She says it’s too late for a walk! The creatures of the night is out roamin’ the streets. Bats is battiin’ through the trees. Deer is grazin’ amongst the petunias. Coyotes is howlin’ down on the train tracks. Rockies is crawlin’ outta the sewers. Bears is poopin’ in the woods. The Chivalrous Neighbor is changin’ into his Reeboks so’s he can jog down the street.

‘N’ Mom says she’s just too darned tired to cope with them tonight.

“But Mom,” I protested, quite rightfully, “my contract says THREE hikes a day!”

“‘N’ both of today’s hikes was worth doubles, so that equals four,” Mom said.

“The contract don’t say nothin’ about doubles,” I said.

“Well, it should,” Mom sniffed. “‘N’ Pops will make sure it says so on the next reopener.”

(Aw geez, Pops, you wouldn’t do that, would you?)

Well, me ‘n’ Mom went round ‘n’ round for many minutes, both of us citin’ this pertinent contract clause ‘n’ that, ‘n’ all the while it just got darker ‘n’ darker out. ‘N’ finally I just had to give it up. ‘Cuz even though she is clearly in the wrong, I can see by the way she’s fillin’ up her red juice glass ‘n’ lookin’ longin’ly at her puzzle book ‘n’ recliner, there is no more walks in the future for Louie. At least not tonight.

‘N’ that’s flat-out wrong. Mom is shirkin’ her responsibilities, ‘n’ it is only the fact that you’ll be home shortly to take care of me proper that I’m not lookin’ into the possibilities of hookin’ up again with Paulina.

Your most disappointed,


Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, not Paulina. You really don’t know what you are sayin’. Fact is, I don’t think you remember what it was like with Paulina. Hamburger-grease enhancements? Not likely. Three-a-days, or even two-a-days? Hardly. Long belly rubs in the big bed? No way. So, when Mom is reachin’ for another glass of red juice and looking longingly at her recliner, you need to remember how good you got it. And how bad it really was back in the old days.
Published in: on August 27, 2010 at 11:52 am  Leave a Comment  

Aug. 25, from Louie, Day 75

Dear Dad,

As a sworn representative of the U.S. government (‘n’ since no one else on duty tonight has the top-secret clearance to do it), I regret to inform you that your Louie has been wounded — most painfully — in the defense of Mom ‘n’ the Homeland. 

Little did Mom ‘n’ me realize how dangerous our mission was when we set out for the Oxbow. It was a dreary ‘n’ overcast mornin’, but the temperatures was most tolerable, ‘n’ we was both lookin’ forward to a moderate climb through the hills of the Cuyahoga so’s Mom could shave a few layers of cellulite offa her mashed potato thighs ‘n’ I could do a little unofficial snoopin’ for bears.

The park was disappointin’ly quiet — not a deer nor a chipmunk nor a grizzly in sight — ‘n’ that was where me ‘n’ Mom goofed up. We let down our guard. ‘N’ when we trotted around the bend at the top of the trail, we was totally unprepared for a most vicious attack from the rear.

Pops! We was SWARMED by hornets!


‘N’ it wasn’t Louie’s fault!

‘Cuz I never once stuck my snout in any old buzzin’ hole in the ground.

One minute we was lazily admirin’ the scenery, ‘n’ the next, the hornets was targetin’ our butts!

Well, me ‘n’ Mom is bigger ‘n’ much more fleet o’ foot (well, at least I am) ‘n’ we escaped the swarm with our eyeballs intact, ‘cept two kamikazes wouldn’t disengage, even when we was many many yards away from their nest. They landed on my hindquarters, ‘n’ immediately commenced to stingin’ my tender nether regions.

Oh, Pops, the agony! The insufferable pain! I howled ‘n’ leaped a gazillion feet into the air. Mom howled ‘n’ started swattin’ my butt with her denim hat. We whirled ‘n’ twirled in a blur of humanity, canininity ‘n’ hornet hatred, ‘n’ I was so busy tryin’ to bite them hornets offa my  privates ‘n’ Mom was so busy slappin’ her hat, we nearly tumbled down the mountain.

But with a mighty flick o’ the leash, Mom finally swept ’em away, ‘n’ we run lickety-split down the stairs to the river. I wanted to dive in ‘n’ douse the fire stingin’ my butt, but Mom wouldn’t let me. “Louie, you’re in shock!” she said. “You’ll lose your footin’ ‘n’ get carried away by the rapids all the way to Sault Ste. Marie!”

“I don’t care!” I whined. “I’m burnin’ up!”

“Suck it up, Louie,” Mom ordered. “You’re a soldier. Deal with it!”

Well, I thought that was rather harsh, ‘specially since I was the one with the blazin’ nether regions, ‘n’ I really thought Mom oughta be more sympathetic. But as it turned out, Mom was right. (She dithers an awful lot, but she really is quite practical in an emergency.) The more I walked, the more the stings wore off, ‘n’ by the time we got back to Miss Corolla, I was able to crawl into the back seat with only a little boost from Mom.

But I still whimpered all the way home. I was quite wounded.

As soon as we got into the house, I collapsed on the kitchen floor, ‘n’ Mom fed me ice cubes while she carefully inspected my privates. (OK, I don’t usually allow that, but this was an emergency.)

“Tell me the worst, Mom,” I said bravely. “Am I gonna die?”

Mom shook her head. “It’s still too early to tell, Lou, but I think you got only two boo-boos.”

“ONLY?????”  I howled. Let her get two stings on HER nether regions ‘n’ see if she’d call ’em “only.”

“Well,” she said quite reasonably, “you had many many more stings last summer when you got attacked, ‘n’ you survived THAT OK. So I think you’ll live.”

“Easy for YOU to say,” I sniffed.

“I’ll take you to the vet if you want,” Mom offered.

“NO WAY!!!!!” I protested. ‘N’ I immediately set to lickin’ my boo-boos my own self ‘n’ shovin’ her pryin’ fingers outta the way. The boo-boos was startin’ to itch somethin’ terrible, but I would never ever tell Mom that. ‘Cuz I’m not goin’ back to that nefarious man in the white coat who sticks needles as sharp as stingers in my neck.

As Mom said, I’ve survived worse than this. I’ll surely survive two little stings.

Well, BIG stings. We gotta keep this in perspective.

So it’s evenin’ now, ‘n’ I got the terrible itchies, but Mom is slatherin’ my nether regions with gallons of calomine lotion even as I type, ‘n’ feedin’ me gravy-soaked bonbons to keep my mind offa my troubles. I suspect if I play my cards right, I’ll get outrageous treats for the next week to compensate me for my many wounds. Mom is very tender-hearted that way.

I just don’t know WHAT we did to deserve that attack, but if Mom ever tries to take me back to the Oxbow, I’m gonna bite off her hands. It’s DANGEROUS up there!

Your sufferin’


P.S. Say, Pops, talk about sufferin’. Mom’s fixated on some CD of yours by a hillbilly named Vince Gill. Can you PLEASE talk her into switchin’ CDs? If I haveta hear one more wailin’ about which bridge to cross ‘n’ which bridge to burn, I might set the house on fire.

Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, I think you should stay away from the Oxbow. That place seems to hold many evils for you. Actually, as you may recall from your MIB training, the first two rules of the woods are 1. find food, and 2. don’t become food. Those hornets were just protectin’ THEIR homeland and they didn’t know it was just sweet, sweet Lou nosin’ around. Actually, when you think of it, humans are the only animals that act with malice. Nature is pretty simple … until you get to man. Only people are mean to each other. All the other animals are true to themselves and to each other. Well, Mom will spoil you, Lou, and soon you will feel much, much better.
Published in: on August 25, 2010 at 11:59 pm  Leave a Comment  

Aug. 24, from Louie, Day 74

Dear Pops,

What do ink pens, peein’, totem poles ‘n’ St. Bernard’s have in common?


‘Cept they was all points of innerest on my abbreviated work-day excursions with Mom.

First off, thank you for thinkin’ of us ‘n’ continuin’ to send gentle breezes our way. They have chased away the heat goblins quite satisfactorily, ‘CEPT, don’t get carried away, OK? It was so cool this mornin’, Mom actually hauled out her jeans to take me to the dog park, ‘n’ though it’s a blessin’ for the rest o’ humankind when Mom covers up her befreckled thighs, you don’t wanna go banishin’ summer before I get the chance to take you to Bow Wow Beach.

Sooooooooo, we was at the good ol’ Akron dog park today, ‘n’ there was a nice manageable pack o’ the fellas waitin’ for me at the gate. No snarlin’ or barin’ of fangs. Just friendly guys out for a romp. I had me a lively rasslin’ match with a border collie named Jonas, who wasn’t the least bit psychotic. He just wanted to roll around in the grass. ‘N’ we did.

But the two innerestin’ points of the mornin’ was the bitches.

One was a black mutt a little smaller’n’ me, ‘n’ golly, she wanted to disrupt my play time with Jonas. ‘N’ since she was a girl ‘n’ I’m a guy, I felt obliged to horse around with her, too, ‘cuz I’m always thinkin’ ahead to fillin’ in the dates on my calendar. I thought she might make a fine diversion on one o’ them many nights when Mom leaves me for that EWP.

But just as we was gettin’ friendly, she opened her mouth in a great big grin, ‘n’ — POPS!!!!! Her tongue was all black ‘n’ blue!!!!!!

“Eeeeeeuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuwwww!!!!!” me ‘n’ Mom both said in unison, ‘cuz them blue splotches on a tongue that’s supposed to be pink was quite off-puttin’.

Seems Greta (that was her name) has a special taste for INK PENS. ‘N’ (did you know this?) they stain a dog’s tongue permanent!!!!! Well, golly, I flashed back to all them times I tried to sneak off with Mom’s puzzle pens, ‘n’ I just shivered at my many close calls. If Mom hadn’t’ve diligently yanked them pens outta my jaws every time, I’d have a permanently disfigured tongue, too. ‘N’ wouldn’t THAT just ruin my social life? So I’m ever grateful that Mom didn’t let me get away with nothin’, ‘n’ I’ve sworn off pens forever (well, at least until the next time there’s nothin’ tasty in my food bowl).

‘N’ then ANNIE showed up. (You remember Annie, don’tcha, Pops? She once had a thing for me, only she really favors Rottweilers? Well, now I know WHY!!!!!) We was all prancin’ around the fence, peein’ here ‘n’ poopin’ there, when suddenly ANNIE (who could by some stretch o’ HER imagination be considered one o’ my ex-girlfriends) strolled up to the fence ‘n’ (Pops, I can’t believe this) LIFTED HER LEG TO PEE!!!!

POPS!!!! She’s supposed to be a GIRL!!!!! ‘N’ I let her sniff my nether regions! ‘N’ now it appears she might be — a TRANSVESTITE!!!!!! Oh, I know, when I saw she likes to eat poop, I shoulda KNOWN somethin’ was very wrong with the bitch. ‘N’ now I got indisputable proof! She pees like a boy! WHAT IS IT WITH THAT???????

Well, I was most discombobulated by the discovery, ‘n’ I let Mom drag me home without any further adventures. ‘Cuz I was too busy tryin’ to wrap my Midwest canine mind around this development. How can a girl dog lift her leg to pee (‘n’ quite accurately, I might add)?

I was still mullin’ over the many butt-sniffin’ configurations of this discovery when we got home, ‘n’ I was so distracted, I didn’t get in Mom’s way durin’ ANY of her household chores. Which meant she got done in time to take me for an extra-long Pre-Work Walk. Which was why we was climbin’ up Palisades instead of takin’ the usual route up Tamiami Trail, ‘n’ suddenly, shootin’ up outta the wooded lawn of a big brick mansion to our left was a most peculiar sight! There was a SCAFFOLD (Mom told me that word) built up around a dead tree trunk, ‘n’ a chain-saw-packin’ human was busily dancin’ around the scaffold, ‘n’ bits ‘n’ pieces o’ wood was flyin’ this way ‘n’ that, ‘n’ a most monstrous figure was takin’ shape in place o’ the tree.

“Mom!!!!!” I said in shell-shocked surprise, “what the heck is THAT???”

Mom stopped in her tracks, cocked her head just like Louie, ‘n’ said after a few hard moments o’ study, “Well, Lou, I think that’s gonna be a totem pole.”

“A what????” I asked.

“A totem pole,” Mom said. “It’s somethin’ humans make to tell their family history ‘n’ ward off evil spirits.”

I just shivered. “I think a photo album would be much more user-friendly,” I said.

Mom just patted my head. “The neighbors probably agree,” she said.

‘N’ I briskly led Mom away from the evil eyes takin’ shape on that nasty stick o’ wood. It just give me the creeps, Pops, so don’t you go thinkin’ of turnin’ any o’ our nice oak trees into a stupid pole. The Barbaras would be outraged.

Soooooooooooooooo, we circled around Woodside, ‘n’ over to Eaglesnest, ‘n’ then we was headin’ down Malvern to home, ‘n’ I was sniffin’ trees ‘n’ Mom was thinkin’ EWP thoughts, ‘n’ neither one of us was on guard for marauders, when suddenly there was a gi-GANT-tic woof way above our heads that nearly knocked us outta our socks. We both froze in shiverment, ‘cuz this was a seriously angry bark — ‘n’ it was comin’ from the sky!!!!

“WOOF WOOF WOOF!!!!!!” it thundered in tones that made Louie sound like a soprano.

Our heads whipped around in terror (Mom was especially frantic, ‘cuz her back has been achin’ somethin’ fierce since I turned it into a pretzel, ‘n’ she wasn’t sure she could handle an assault). We expected dinosaurs to jump outta the trees ‘n’ land on our heads ‘n’ devour us for lunch. It was THAT scarifyin’!

‘N’ then we both saw it at the same time — a great big St. Bernard HEAD was stickin’ outta the second-floor window of the house we was passin’, ‘n’ that boy was PISSED OFF!!!! Pops, there was no screen on this window. It was wide open to the world, ‘n’ this MONSTROUS DOG HEAD was barkin’ at us most furiously.

Me ‘n’ Mom both skedaddled down the street, ‘n’ only the fact that the window was too small to accommodate the St. Bernard’s shoulders saved us from a most painful ‘n’ untimely end. But when we was safely around the corner, Mom was most indignant. How DARE that dog’s humans leave a window WIDE OPEN so their ill-tempered dog could harass law-abidin’ dog walkers?????  

It really was quite rude. ‘N’ only my extreme manliness kept me from peein’ my pants.

I can’t speak for Mom, however.

So that’s the end of our adventures for today. I’m sorry if they haven’t tingled your spine, but they were quite enough for me.

I’m gonna go to bed now ‘n’ contemplate what they all mean for Louie. Especially the part about Annie liftin’ her leg.

Yours in gender puzzlement,


Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, there are so many puzzles in life, it must be so scarifyin’ for you. Eventually, though, you will learn the facts of life … that is, there ain’t none. Things just are, or they aren’t, and there ain’t no use trying to figure it all out. You take Annie, for example. Everything you thought she was, she wasn’t. You will strain your brain trying to figure that out. The answer? Just enjoy today and worry about tomorrow … tomorrow.
Published in: on August 25, 2010 at 1:27 am  Leave a Comment  

Aug. 23, from Louie, Day 73

Dear Pops,

I think Mom is a social cripple, ‘n’ it’s seriously interferin’ with my ability to get dates.

I don’t mean to sound harsh here, but Mom just don’t know how to make nice to other humans.

Take this mornin’s excursion to that snooty dog park in the Falls. (Not my choice, Pops. If we aren’t goin’ to Bow Wow Beach, I’d much rather romp with the boys down at our neighborhood park, but Mom got it into her head that we hadn’t been to the Falls for a while, so we oughta go. Well, as you’ll see, it didn’t work out — ‘n’ it was all her fault.)

It was threatenin’ all mornin’ to rain, so I was quite overjoyed when Mom loaded me up in Miss Corolla instead of tryin’ to slip a neighborhood walk by me. ‘N’ we was quite surprised when we got to the park to find half a dozen other dogs huddlin’ around the gate, ‘cuz by then, there was BIG gray clouds hangin’ down on our heads. Mom figured I’d get me a good romp for sure.

Well, maybe I would’ve, if only SHE’D been more sociable.

You know Louie. No matter what dog park we’re in, the first thing I gotta do is scout out the perimeter so I can poop ‘n’ pee ‘n’ get myself in shape to run. Which I did, with Mom dutifully followin’ to bag my deposits.

So after the first lap, I was ready to innerduce myself properly to the other guys ‘n’ get it on.

There musta been some kinda Monday mornin’ club for the ladies of the Falls, ‘cuz they was all clustered at a picnic table jabberin’ amongst themselves, ‘n’ their dogs was all around ’em, loungin’ around ‘n’ under ‘n’ ON the table. I expected Mom to plop herself down at the table, too, say “Hi, how are you?” ‘n’ commence to jabberin’ with ’em whilst I egged the dogs into a lap or two.

But nooooooooooooooooo. Mom lacks the basic social graces. So she kept doin’ her laps, ‘n’ gosh, I had to keep followin’ here, ‘cuz who knows what kinda trouble she’d get into if I wasn’t there to keep an eye on her?

“Mooooooooooooom,” I said after the second lap, “whyn’t you just go sit down?”

“‘Cuz if I sit down,” she said in that oh-so-reasonable voice that don’t allow no contradiction, “you’ll sit down, too, ‘n’ you won’t get your exercise.”

“Moooooooooooooom,” I said, “there’s a cute little shepherd bitch over there, ‘n’ she won’t pay no attention to me as long as I’m followin’ you.”

“Then don’t follow me,” Mom said, ‘n’ she started off on Lap No. 3.


Just to show Mom, I abandoned her to her laps ‘n’ trotted on over to the group at the picnic table, ‘n’ wagged my tail ‘n’ give the cute shepherd bitch one o’ my most dazzlin’ smiles, but no matter how much I hopped around ‘n’ pawed at the ground ‘n’ tried to sniff butts, neither the bitch nor her companions would budge from the immediate environs of the picnic table. Their moms was all jabberin’ at the table, so that’s where they was congregatin’, too.

Well, Mom kept lappin’, ‘n’ I kept tryin’ to strike up a conversation with the dog pack, but they wasn’t budgin’.

I KNOW if Mom woulda just sit her butt down at the table ‘n’ made nice with the other ladies, the dogs would’ve accepted me as one o’ their own. But Mom of the crippled sociabilities didn’t know how to say hi, so she kept on walkin’, ‘n’ eventually, gettin’ the cold shoulder from the other dogs, I trotted back to Mom, ‘n’ we finished our lappin’ ‘n’ come home.

But it was most dissatisfactory.

As you can see, Mom is holdin’ me back from my full social potential ‘cuz she don’t know how to make small tallk with humans while I make small talk with the dogs. ‘N’ cuz of that, I’m gonna grow up to be a lonely old man.

Unless, o’ course, we just skip the Falls park in the future ‘n’ go back to the good ol’ park in the valley, where I know all the boys ‘n’ if worse comes to worst, I can always try to hump Fat Annie.

Yours in social limbo,


Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, you misunderstand Mom. She has reached a point in her life when doing what SHE wants, and not what others expect, is the only thing that matters. Heck, Lou, why else would she put up with Pops? You need to understand that Mom takes you to the dog park for two reasons, equally important. First, she wants you to get exercise and for you to get flirt time with the hot bitches there. Second, she needs her laps to address her Oreo-encrusted thighs (or so she thinks). So, don’t be critical of Mom for ignoring the social circle of gossips. That’s not Mom and it never will be. Also, think for a minute about who gives you gobs of greasy pickin-chicken. Yup, she is the WBM! So, you best be thinkin’ about ways to get dates that don’t include Mom fixin’ you up, OK? She has her own way of doin’ things.
Published in: on August 23, 2010 at 8:43 pm  Leave a Comment  

Aug. 22, from Louie, Day 72

Dear Dad,

As a sworn agent of the U.S. Forest Service, you need to know that Mom is a threat to national security.

‘N’ if she weren’t an unrepentant flower child, I’d even say she might be workin’ for the other side.


Well, take today, for instance.

I had weekend patrol, as I told you, ‘n’ I spent the WHOLE NIGHT pacin’ the perimeter of the house, on guard for nefarious invaders, ‘n’ though I was ever watchful, I didn’t spot a single alien or bear. YOU might say I had an easy night, but it’s no walk in the dog park defendin’ the homeland against flocks of brainwashed turkeys. So by the time I got off duty at dawn, I was WHUPPED, ‘n’ I crawled into bed next to Mom expectin’ many many hours of refreshin’ sleep.

But noooooooooooooooo. Mom was up at the crack o’ nine-thirty, like it wasn’t even her day off, ‘n’ she perkily announced we was goin’ hikin’ in Sand Run.

“But Mooooooooom,” I yawned, “I’m tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrreeeeed!”

“Then a hike is just what you need to get your synapses cracklin’!” she said cheerfully, ‘n’ she drug me off to the woods.

Well, I’ll admit, the forests of Sand Run was quite enjoyable, ‘cuz overnight you’d sent a most pleasurable frosty wind from California to chase all the heat goblins away (thank you very much), ‘n’ there was many fine bitches prancin’ down the trail, takin’ advantage of the break in the weather. I musta swapped e-mail addresses with half a dozen of ’em, ‘n’ I’m lookin’ forward to many hot Internet romances the next time Mom goes to that EWP ‘n’ I’m left alone on the computer.

So the hike turned out to be a good idea, but when we got home, the sleepies caught up with me, ‘n’ I just wanted to stretch out on the kitchen floor ‘n’ snore.

But, noooooooooooooooo, Mom had many chores on her agenda, ‘n’ she kept inneruptin’ my naps to help her out.

“Looooooooouieeeeeeeeeee,” she’d call down the hall, “I’m makin’ the bed now!”

Or, “Loooooooooooooooouiiiiiiiiiieee, I’m sortin’ the stinky laundry!”

Or, “Loooooooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuieeeeeeee, I’m sweepin’ up all your lovely hairs!”

‘N’ of course, I’d haveta get up ‘n’ go chargin’ after her, ‘cuz I’m Louie, ‘n’ I’m sworn to interfere with whatever chore she’s up to. But gosh, Pops, it was tirin’. If she hadn’t’ve left in the afternoon to go spend all her money at Acme on MEAT, I think I woulda snarled at her.

But fortunately I was able to catch a few ZZZZZZ’s while she was gone, ‘n’ on her return, I was bravely able to suffer through an afternoon walk around the neighborhood before Mom launched into another round o’ chores. (This time, I went out ‘n’ hid in the shed, ‘n’ it was quite a nifty solution, ‘cept I missed all the sloppy bits she dropped on the kitchen floor while whippin’ up her muffins of meat. My bad.)

Well, I assumed we was gonna eat IMMEDIATELY, ‘cuz I needed to be fortified before my next round of patrols, but noooooooooo. Mom, that evil anti-war monger, decided to delay dinner ‘n’ drain me of all my precious bodily fluids by takin’ me for an evenin’ romp at Bow Wow Beach. ‘N’ despite the national security obligations loomin’ on my horizon, I HAD to go with her. ‘Cuz, really, it wouldn’t be right to let Mom frolic alone at Bow Wow Beach.

‘N’ oh, Pops, we had such a rip-snortin’ time! EVERYONE was in a such good mood ‘cuz it wasn’t so sufferin’ hot no more, ‘n’ even though the water was a LITTLE bit chilly, me ‘n’ the boys sucked it up ‘n’ dove right in. Gosh, I chased so many guys up ‘n’ down the beach, I can’t even begin to count ’em all. I just wish you coulda been there, to see how much Louie takes to the water these days. Why, Pops, I got into deep parts all the way up to my chin! ‘N’ I was even considerin’ takin’ a dive off the dock! If Mom hadn’t’ve been watchin’ me so trepidatiously, I mighta gone ahead ‘n’ done it!

But eventually the thunder clouds moved in, ‘n’ me ‘n’ Mom just managed to dive into Miss Corolla before the skies opened up with a brief but stupendous summer shower. Wooo-heeee, what a rousin’ end to a swim!

So then we got home, ‘n’ I really needed to prep myself for tonight’s guard duty, but noooooooooooooooooo. Mom had a whole PAN full of muffins of meat. ‘N’ the smell was so delectable, I was prancin’ around the oven the whole time she was on the phone to you. I really shoulda been loungin’ on the couch, savin’ my energies for tonight’s patrols, but the house just reeked with the hot aroma of bakin’ MEAT, ‘n’ I couldn’t settle down for nothin’. I had to have me one of them meatloafs!

‘N’ I did, ‘n’ it was sinfully delicious, ‘n’ I was every so happy……

‘Cept now it’s weighin’ on my tummy, ‘n’ I’m only five minutes away from goin’ on duty.

Oh, Pops, I wanna curl up in bed ‘n’ digest so baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad, ‘n’ instead I gotta guard the whole darned Cuyahoga Valley against maraudin’ bears ‘n’ schemin’ does ‘n’ feather-headed turkeys. I don’t know how I’m gonna keep one eye open, much less two.

‘N’ it’s all Mom’s fault. She has no respect for my many weighty responsibilities. All she can think of is cookin’ meat drippin’ with grease ‘n’ takin’ Louie swimmin’.

Now I ask you, is that inconsiderate or what?

Your very misunderstood patriot,


Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, just think, you can spend the entire day today (while Mom’s at the EWP) in splendoriforous stupor with sweet dreams of meat muffins awaiting you when she returns. Now, does life get any better than that? OK, I realize your perimeter patrol is a key part of our national security, but sometimes you need to learn to chill. Just chill. My boy, you must learn to worry only about those things you can change. The rest? Well, just chill.
Published in: on August 22, 2010 at 9:13 pm  Leave a Comment  

Aug. 21, from Louie, Day 71

Well, Pops, it’s been a most snarlly day on the home front, startin’ this mornin’ at the dog park.

A big black fella named Claymoore was goin’ in a coupla steps ahead of us, ‘n’ another black fella about my size was already in the park, ‘n’ as soon as he saw this Claymoore fella, he tore up to the gate ‘n’ the two of ’em IMMEDIATELY got into it. I’m not talking a boisterous hello, neither. There was fangs showin’ ‘n’ serious growls emanatin’ from their throats, ‘n’ they was gnashin’ ‘n’ swipin’ at each other with their claws. All the other dogs scurried over ‘n’ sat down in a ring around ’em to watch the show, ‘cuz this was gonna be a blood-lust  boxin’ match.

Well, me ‘n’ Mom was still outside the gate, ‘n’ Mom was ditherin’ about goin’ home even as I was strainin’ to get inside for a better view of the action. ‘N’ I tell you, Pops, the fur was really startin’ to fly — ‘n’ that was just the dogs’ HUMANS arguin’ over which one o’ them oughta go home ‘n’ leave the rest of the park in peace. Chopper’s mom was so distraught by the uproar, she drug Chopper ‘n’ Tazzie out while the fight was still escalatin’. (I was most disappointed, ‘cuz I wanted to confer with Chopper about my — um — deer problem. He’s very sensible, ‘n’ I was sure he could give me some good legal pointers, but his mom was determined to get outta the war zone.) ANYWAY, before anyone was kilt, the non-Claymoore human (angrily) caved in ‘n’ hauled her dog outta the park, ‘n’ Claymoore immediately settled down ‘n’ made nice with the rest of the fellas. But it was close, Pops, very close. I never SEEN two dogs that mad at each other (well, not countin’ my slobberin’ matches with the Evil White Dog).

Mom just shook her head ‘n’ said, “This weather, Louie. It’s gonna be the death of us!”

Well, she had a point. It wasn’t as scorchifyin’ hot as some miserable days in our recent past, but it was still quite wretched, what with the humidity, ‘n’ even when the fight was over, everyone was in a nasty mood. No one wanted to romp ‘n’ play. Even Louie. As soon as I deposited all my nice piles of poop, I plodded over to the gate ‘n’ let Mom know in no uncertain terms that I was ready to go home to the air conditionin’.

‘N’ Mom obliged me. ‘Cuz she wasn’t findin’ the park too refreshin’ neither. (All that dog pee ‘n’ poop gets quite gaggifyin’ under the August sun.)

The rest of the mornin’ was uneventful. I gnawed on ice cubes ‘n’ just for somethin’ different, I dug a hole to Indonesia. Mom did her chores ‘n’ fantasized about you comin’ home in fryin’ up some ‘shrooms. ‘N’ then we took our Pre-Work Walk.

‘N’ I’m afraid I turned Mom into a pretzel.

But it wasn’t my fault!!!!! OK. the heat had me on a short fuse, but that darned black cat shouldn’t’ve been hidin’ under that car up the street. As soon as I seen him, my brain just melted down, ‘n’ I wanted to kill him. I twisted Mom into so many contortions, she was whimperin’ most sadly by the time she drug me away.

Well, she shoulda took me home right then so’s I could calm down, but no, she persevered up to Eaglesnest ‘n’ beyond, ‘cuz she said the forecast was for rain, ‘n’ she wasn’t sure we’d be able to get in a Midnight Stroll, ‘n’ she wanted to empty me out good ‘n’ proper. So I huffed along, snortin’ to myself over what I woulda done to that black cat if only Mom had let me, ‘n’ wouldn’t ya know? Just as we was headin’ down the Palisades hill to Letchworth, ANOTHER cat dashed out onto the sidewalk in front of us.

I was so delirious over my second chance, I lunged after it like a crazy dog, ‘n’ poor Mom was drug along in my wake, tryin’ frantically to hang onto me ‘n’ my many poop bags without fallin’ flat on her face. Oh, we made quite a sight, let me tell you! Many many times, Mom was in danger of losin’ all control. Many many times, I was THIS CLOSE to wrappin’ my frothin’ jaws around that cat! I could nearly taste it.

But in the end, the cat disappeared into a conveniently open garage, ‘n’ Mom finally choked me so hard, I had to stop ‘n’ gag.

“Mom!” I gasped. “You’re chokin’ my voice box!”

“Louie!” Mom panted, “you’ve displaced my pancreas!”

I have no idea what a pancreas is, but Mom sure did look awful, with all her limbs stickin’ out in the wrong direction. I might’ve maybe possibly tugged on her too hard this time.

So we limped home, ‘n’ I curled up in a huff on the big bed ‘n’ dreamed of decapitatin’ cats while Mom slowly ‘n’ painfully got ready for that EWP.

I had no more adventures while Mom was gone. I was somewhat fearful that the — um — doe (you know the one) might return this evenin’ ‘n’ issue some more silly demands, but along about twilight, it started rainin’ goats ‘n’ geccos, ‘n’ whoever that deranged deer is, she decided to leave Louie in peace. There hasn’t been a single sign of her OR Uncle Buck all evenin’.

Which is most fortunate. ‘Cuz as I told you earlier iin the week, I’m on duty this weekend, ‘n’ I just couldn’t cope with my many national security responsibilities if I had to look over my shoulder for antlers, too.

So that’s the end of our day, Pops. I’m gonna sign off now ‘n’ send Mom to bed, ‘n’ as soon as she starts snorin’, I’ll be on patrol. ‘N’ if any deer OR cats cross my path tonight, they better watch out. ‘Cuz I’m ready to rumble.

Manly high-fives ‘n’ such (no hugs ‘n’ kisses, ‘cuz I am almost on duty),


Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, you must have mercy on your poor Mom. She doesn’t twist and bend like you, and she doesn’t pop back into place like she did when she was but a lass. So, take it easy on her, OK,  Lou?
Now, about your visitin’ doe. I think maybe I slipped and mentioned it to Mom. Now, don’t get yourself worked up into a dither. As soon as I realized my mistake, I tried to cover it up. But, regardless, you might want to have to a sit-down with Mom and explain your predicament. After all, if you have to hop the midnight freight to California one of these days, she’s got a right to know.
Published in: on August 22, 2010 at 1:11 am  Leave a Comment