Sept. 13, from Louie, Day 94

DAD’S HOME!!!!!!!!

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Published in: on September 15, 2010 at 12:55 pm  Leave a Comment  

Sept. 12, P.S. from Louie, Day 93

DAD!

Mom says you won’t be able to read this until you get home, but I gotta tell ya now before it gets pushed outta my grasshopper-size brain by other stuff.

I got in a fight at the dog park!

‘N’ it’s ALL MOM’S FAULT — ‘cuz of her cheatin’ heart (sniff)!

We was strollin’ the perimeter, snufflin’ at many intriguin’ old piles of poop (humans has gotten quite lazy about pickin’ up after their dogs, let me tell you) ‘n’ just enjoyin’ the satisfyin’ sunshine when suddenly we was accosted — ACCOSTED, I tell you! — by a coupla golden retrievers. 

One of ’em cut me off from Mom, ‘n’ the other one started sniffin’ uninvited at Mom’s butt.

Well, I didn’t appreciate that none, but I kinda had my paws full with my own retriever, but in between dodgin’ his nips ‘n’ slobbers, I TOLD Mom, “Slap his snout! Slap his snout! He’ll go away!!!!”

‘N’ if she’d only LISTENED to me, there woulda been no trouble, ‘cuz every dog knows, someone slaps your snout, you stop whatever annoyin’ thing you’re doin’ ‘n’ go away.

‘Cept Mom, the traitor, just cooed at her assailant, ‘n’ instead of slappin’ him silly, she leaned over ‘n’ — oh, Pops, I can hardly bring myself to tell you this — she NUZZLED that boy behind his EARS ‘n’ give him a hug!!!!

Well, gosh darn it, my Mom don’t nuzzle ‘n’ hug NOBODY but ME (‘n’ maybe you, but not so much you lately) ‘n’ I couldn’t help myself, Pops. A blindin’ rage come over me, ‘n’ I swatted my own assailant outta the way, ‘n’ I CHARGED the pillager huggin’ Mom’s thigh, ‘n’ my fangs was bared ‘n’ my throat was growlin’ ‘n’ my shoulders was swelled in a great angry hump ‘n’ I kicked him right through the uprights!

Field goal for Louie!!!!!

‘N’ the crowds cheered! ‘N’ confetti rained down on my head from the trees!

‘N’ that insolent puppy slunk away to the lockerroom, humiliated by the home opener.

Well, Mom was quite annoyed at me for creatin’ a fuss over a friendly little dog (friendly, my butt!!!!) ‘n’ I was quite annoyed at her for flirtin’ with him so audaciously, right in front of my eyes, ‘n’ we both come home in a snit. ‘N’ it’s only ‘cuz there’s a plate of leftover chicken in the ice box that I’m even TALKIN’ to her right now.

Such betrayal!

Such public misbehavior!

Pops, this may have warped my whole outlook on life.

So come home quick so’s we can talk this over man to man.

‘N’ don’t you go listenin’ to Mom’s side of the story first.

Your indignant,

Louie.

P.S. Say, Pops, you bringin’ home any MEAT from California?????

Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, you are and always will be the WBD in Mom’s eyes, so don’t be worryin’ about her nuzzlin’ another retriever. Besides, she probably saw a little of you (after all, Lou, you are a retriever) in the other dog and her show of affection really was for you!

Pops
P.S. Ain’t no meat in California, Lou. It’s the land of sprouts and something call toe-foo, which you wouldn’t like at all. You would have to convert to veganism, my boy, and you’ll just have to ask Mom to explain that to you.
Published in: on September 13, 2010 at 11:26 am  Leave a Comment  

Sept. 11, P.S. from Louie, Day 92

Well, Pops, I may have lost my Muse, but I haven’t lost my touch for embarrassin’ Mom.

She took me to the dog park this mornin’, ‘n’ in the swirl of canines around one o’ the  benches, ‘n’ in my overpowerin’ need to relieve myself,

I peed on a human.

A human in shorts.

I peed all over his leg.

Hee hee hee.

Mom was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO mortified. She couldn’t drag me outta there fast enough.

Hee hee hee.

I just crack myself up.

Louie.

Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, you just crack me up, too. Thank you for your daily snapshots into life in Louieville. Truly, you gave me a smile each morning and the strength to get through another day.
Love,
Pops
Published in: on September 12, 2010 at 12:02 am  Leave a Comment  

Sept. 10, from Louie, Day 91

Dear Pops,

Mom says this is probably gonna be my last letter for a while, ‘n’ it’s a good thing, ‘cuz besides the fact that it’s ever so much more fun to SHARE my adventures with you in real time,  I also seem to have misplaced my Muse person.

You see, I stuck it in one o’ my hidey-holes the other day while Mom was in a cleanin’ frenzy, so’s she wouldn’t toss it in the garbage by accident (you KNOW how she throws out all my best stuff), ‘n’ now I can’t seem to find it. I dug frantically all through the closets ‘n’ the laundry room ‘n’ even that Bryan Guy’s room tonight while Mom was at that Evil Work Place, ‘n’ I CAN’T REMEMBER WHERE I PUT IT.

‘N’ as a result, none o’ my adventures sound so adventuresome.

Take today, for instance.

The weather was most satisfyin’ly cool, ‘n’ our mornin’ hike down the Towpath was most invigoratin’ly brisk. But gosh darn it, Pops, by the time we huffed ‘n’ puffed our way back to Miss Corolla, I didn’t have a single amusin’ encounter to report. No innerestin’ ‘n’ intriguin’ wildlife, no bemusin’ developments along the river, no arms pulled outta Mom’s sockets — not even a whiff of bear! It was just a mornin’ hike — end of story.

So then we went ‘n’ give Miss Corolla a bath, ‘n’ THAT shoulda been side-splittin’. But you know, we been there ‘n’ done that, ‘n’ since Mom’s figured out how to keep a death grip on that ornery hose, there was no hilarious accidents nor misadventures to chronicle. Mom washed the car, I watched, ‘n’ that was that. Big whoop.

So then we come home ‘n’ Mom did her housecleanin’ chores, but gosh, Dad, how many times can you chuckle over my dogged attempts to get in Mom’s way? I was quite busy chewin’ this ‘n’ rippin’ that, ‘n’ Mom’s responses was quite colorful, too, but without my Muse to embellish things — well, gosh, we been there ‘n’ done that, too, all summer!

So then we took a Pre-Work Walk, ‘n’ it was most satisfyin’ in the peein’ department, but ONCE AGAIN it wasn’t noteworthy at all! No peculiar neighbors, no villainous cats or dogs, no insidious behavior that needed reportin’ to the MIB. With all due respect to Mom’s determinedness to slice the frosted cupcakes offa our thighs, it was — excuse the mediocre description — dull.

So then Mom went to that EWP, ‘n’ as I said, I spent many many minutes tryin’ to locate my Muse in my hidey-holes, but I was unsuccessful, ‘n’ when Mom come home ‘n’ took me for my Midnight Stroll (our next to last one, she gleefully reminded me), there was nothin’ to twitch my nose nor inspire a gut-splittin’ letter. Oh, we run into the Chivalrous Neighbor, ‘n’ I snarfed up a dog biscuit, ‘n’ he scratched me behind my ears (but not nearly as satisfyin’ly as you) but outside o’ that, we didn’t see nothin’. Can you imagine that? Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay after midnight on a Friday night, ‘n’  no evil invaders was slinkin’ through the neighborhood? If this keeps up, I’m gonna be laid off for sure, ‘cuz the MIB got budget problems, too, ‘n’ they won’t wanna keep me on the payroll if everythin’ is nice ‘n’ quiet on the home front.

So I guess it’s a real good thing you’re comin’ home soon, ‘cuz if I can’t find my Muse anywhere, my letters is gonna get dreadful dull.

Thank goodness Mom is plannin’ a pickin’ chicken for Sunday, ‘cuz at least that gives me somethin’ to look forward to (well, besides your return. It goes without sayin’, that’s the thing I look forward to most!)

I guess I’ll sign off now ‘n’ go diggin’ under the bed. That darn Muse has gotta be somewhere!!!!!

Your dull,

Louie.

Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, you haveta know your Muse is … YOU! You can never lose it. And I will always find it.
Pops
Published in: on September 11, 2010 at 1:04 am  Leave a Comment  

Sept. 9, from Louie, Day 90

Pops, I am so darned MAD!!!!!

We had such a wunnerful start to the day, ‘n’ it ended just poopy, ‘n’ it’s all the EWP’s fault.

We didn’t have no hike this mornin’ — just a short walk in the park next door — but that was OK, ‘cuz me ‘n’ Mom had to finish our many preparations for my big lunch date with Delilah. Mom was hoggin’ up the bathroom mirror ‘n’ I had to crawl up her back ‘n’ sit on her shoulders just so’s I could peer around her frizzy head ‘n’ take care of my own beautification. (It’s not fair that she hogs the mirror, ‘cuz I got ever-so-many more hairs to blow-dry ‘n’ toenails to file down than she does. ‘N’ it was MY date, not hers!) But FINALLY, Mom declared us ready, ‘n’ I really was most handsome, even if I do say so myself.

‘N’ when we got to the Crezwells, Delilah just SWOONED!

I tried to play it cool, but to tell you the truth, I was a little light-headed myself. Delilah smelled so mysteriously like a DOG, ‘n’ her browns eyes was so luscious ‘n’ her snout twitched so invitin’ly, well, gosh, Pops, I was quiverin’ after so many many days of denied manhood, ‘n’ as soon as the humans disappeared into the house, me ‘n’ Delilah was all over each other. Oh, we rolled ‘n’ frolicked ‘n’ cavorted in a tangle of many, many black legs all over that back yard, ‘n’ if Mom had ever had the chance to glance out the dinin’ room window, she would’ve blushed mightily in embarrassment. We was HOT!!!!!!

So, OK, I was done after five minutes, ‘n’ then I spent the rest of the time sittin’ at the dining room table beggin’ scraps whilst Delilah collapsed in pantin’ exhaustion under the remains of the pear tree. (Poor Delilah has lost many of the best features of her back yard to a most malicious storm, ‘n’ there aren’t too many places left for her to stretch out ‘n’ recover from an attack of such vigorous proportions from a studly guy like me.)

I must say, I prefer it when the Crezwells grill, ‘cuz there’s always a wiener or two with my name on it. But everyone was dinin’ indoors today, ‘n’ Mom wasn’t able to slip me nearly as many hunks o’ meat as she wanted to. But Mr. Crezwell come through ‘n’ let me lick his ice cream bowl. YUM!!!!!!

So after I said a passionate goodbye to Delilah, with many assurances that this wasn’t just a nooner (you know, you gotta say them things to keep the bitches happy), me ‘n’ Mom come home ‘n’ IMMEDIATELY collapsed into a well-deserved nap. We slept for hours, with Mom groanin’ over her rhubarb-laden tummy ‘n’ me recoverin’ from my manly exertions (you guys think I been fixed. HA!). ‘N’ then we crawled outta bed, ‘n’ Mom was promisin’ me so many more adventures weedin’ the condo patio ‘n’ scrubbin’ down Miss Corolla ‘n’ maybe even takin’ an evening stroll on the Towpath that I was prancin’ around the kitchen in delirium, beggin’ her to leash me up ‘n’ get it on!

‘N’ that’s when Mom got the message from the EWP that some Bill fella had called off sick, ‘n’ all my delightful plans for the evenin’ was crushed to smithereens. Instead of spendin’ the rest of the day with me — like my CONTRACT DICTATES — Mom went to WORK, ‘n’ I had no companionship whatsoever for HOURS ‘n’ HOURS ‘n’ HOURS ‘cept a stale Milkbone.

Does that stink or WHAT??????

Well, I was gonna light into Mom when she finally got home, ‘cuz this day was supposed to be all about US, but Pops, I gotta tell ya, she looked so whupped as she staggered through the door that I MAGNANIMOUSLY forgot my justifiable miffedness ‘n’ IMMEDIATELY curled myself around her legs ‘n’ licked her tired hands ‘n’ said, “It’s OK, Mom. I forgive you………NOW LET’S TAKE A WALK!!!!!!”

Which we did, ‘n’ then I was rewarded with the last of the wieners, ‘n’ now Mom’s soothin’ herself with some red juice while I write to you, ‘n’ pretty soon, we’re gonna crawl back into bed, where I’ll dream about Delilah ‘n’ she’ll dream about you, ‘n’ the disappointin’ end of our day will be just a sad chapter in our past ‘n’ tomorrow will be a whole new excitin’ book for us to write.

Yours in the defense of Mom ‘n’ the homeland (when I’m not gettin’ my rocks off),

Louie.

Pops replies:

Oh, Louie! Shocked! I say I am shocked to read about such things as getting “your rocks off!” Now, what is that supposed to mean? And, if true, I sure hope you used protection. You know about that, right, Louie? Oh my, my boy has changed over the summer. You never used to write or talk or even think about such things. Now what am I going to do? I think you and I need to have a long, long talk, Lou. I’m not sure you are aware of exactly what you are getting yourself into. Oh my.
Pops
Published in: on September 10, 2010 at 1:10 am  Leave a Comment  

Sept. 8, from Louie, Day 89

Dear Pops,

Me ‘n’ Mom took advantage of the most satisfyin’ temperatures today to inspect the home front in great detail, ‘n’ then, after an intense five-n-a-half hour work session at the kitchen table, with NO potty breaks ‘n’ many vigorous debates over the pros ‘n’ cons of each item, we come up with this unillustrated checklist of things we gotta do before you come home:

1.  Five more mornin’ belly rubs before Mom gets outta bed (with provisions for a face-lickin’ or two if Mom’s havin’ a REALLY hard time wakin’ up).

2. One more changin’ of the bed linens (with time built in for a second changin’ in case Louie gets too many muddy feet).

3. Fifteen more daily hikes to preserve our record of three-a-days. (After much negotiatin’, I agreed that two or three visits to the dog park would count amongst the 15, but ONLY if there’s enough other fellas at the park to entice me into runnin’ like the wind. Otherwise, Mom’s gotta come up with another hike or two to help me slim down my wienered thighs. She reluctantly agreed.)

4. Two more trips to the condo to pick up the mail, includin’ one trip to yank out the last o’ the dandelions so’s we don’t get cited again by The Association.

5. Ten more meat-enhanced breakfasts ‘n’ dinners. (No negotiatin’ there — there’s gotta be MEAT ENHANCEMENTS, or Louie goes on strike.)

6. Four more holes to China, ‘cuz Louie’s fallen down on the job the last few weeks, ‘n’ there isn’t nearly enough obstacles in the back yard. (Four’s a lot — waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay more’n’ three, if you ask me — but I sighed ‘n’ agreed to do my duty, ‘cuz after all, we don’t want you to come home disappointed.)

7. Thanks to Mom’s EWP schedule for the next few days, only TWO more Midnight Strolls. (“Only two more chances for me to break my neck in the dark,” Mom cheered. “Woo-hoo!!!!!!” Easy for HER to say. That means I got only two more chances to beg dog biscuits offa the Chivalrous Neighbor.)

8. Also thanks to Mom’s EWP schedule, only THREE more long afternoons ‘n’ nights for Louie to patrol the homeland all alone. Well, Pops, I’m manly enough to handle that assignment, but I gotta tell you, it’s been a loooonnnnnnnnnngggg summer, ‘n’ I’m ready for a little R&R. I know it’s my duty to protect Mom ‘n’ the homeland, ‘n’ most days, I find it an honor ‘n’ a privilege, but gosh, I need a boys’ night out in the worst way. So get the popcorn ready!!!!!!!

9. ONE MORE PICKIN’ CHICKEN!!!!!!!! (Mom says she’s gotta eat the frozen potatoes before you get home, so’s you don’t find them in the freezer ‘n’ get tempted to eat them yourself. Boy, Mom’s makin’ the ultimate sacrifice here, savin’ you from all them wasted calories!)

10. Five more nights in the big bed with Mom (well, four more, by the time you read this) ‘n’ normally, that’s not a chore, but she thrashes ‘n’ moans a lot, Pops, so I’ll be ready for some long nights alone on the couch while YOU listen to her unrestful sleep. (Say, maybe you can come up with a way to make her sleep more peaceful. Ya think?)

11. Five more days (well, four more, by the time you read this) of keepin’ Mom so distracted that she don’t dwell too much on the fact that you’re THERE ‘n’ she’s HERE. That’s the toughest chore of ’em all right there, but my plan is to be so darned ornery over the next few days that she don’t have time to think about how much she misses you.

12. One more trip to Acme, to load up on LOTSA TREATS!!!!! (Oh, Mom’s gonna leave the steak buyin’ to you, ‘cuz you have a much better eye for that sorta thing, but there’s many provisions she’s let lapse in your absence, ‘n’ they must be replenished — ‘n’ Louie has a sworn duty to inspect ’em all, to make sure they’re up to FDA standards.)

That’s a lot o’ stuff for me ‘n’ Mom to get outta the way in the next few days, but we’re gonna try ever so hard to get  it all done. (Oh, ooops, I forgot the trip to the library to pick up some Sandford book. So make it 13 chores!) ‘N’ in just a few more nights, Miss Corolla will come sailin’ into the airport driveway, ‘n’ me ‘n’ Mom will just lick you all over in greetin’.

Won’t that be GRAND?????

Your lovin’,

Louie.

Published in: on September 9, 2010 at 1:09 am  Leave a Comment  

Sept. 7, from Louie, Day 88

Oh, Pops, I’m so excited!

Mom says she’s arranged a lunch date for me ‘n’ the delectable Delilah, ‘n’ even though Mom ‘n’ Miz Creswell will be chaperonin’ us most closely, I’m sure there will be MANY opportunities for nuzzlin’ ‘n’ canoodlin’ while they’re jabberin’ over the rhubarb.

But oh, there’s ever-so-many preparations that I must make first!

I gotta talk Mom into a trip to the  dog park, so’s I can find me a lovely pile of old poop (‘n’ maybe even some barf) so’s I can roll around in it ‘n’ get my shiny black coat nice ‘n’ stinky. Thank GOODNESS Mom didn’t take me to the dog wash THIS week. Otherwise I’d be courtin’ Delilah while smellin’ like an Old Spice commercial instead of a manly dog.

‘N’ then I gotta find me a putrefyin’ piece o’ road kill to gnaw on so’s my breath is overpowerin’ly baaaaaaaaaaaad. (Bitches like really bad breath, ya know.)

‘N’ I gotta claw the woodwork ‘n’ furniture so’s the ragged edges of my abbreviated toenails is nice ‘n’ smooth so’s I don’t scratch Delilah’s back when I’m humpin’ her, ‘cuz THAT would be very ungentlemanlike.

‘N’ I gotta find a really NICE present to thank her for the humpin’ — you know, maybe a finely aged rawhide bone with MAGGOTS!!!! (August was a VERY GOOD vintage.)

Oh, gosh, there’s so MUCH to do ‘n’ so little time! Darn that Mom for not tellin’ me sooner! It’s just lucky for her I’m not scheduled for bear patrol on Thursday or we’d be havin’ some serious words about now. ‘N’ there better not be no homeland emergency, ‘cuz nothin’ short of a full-scale invasion will keep me away from my Delilah. Why, golly, Pops, I haven’t seen that luscious hunk of feminine doghood since WAAAAAAY before you left, ‘n’ as you know, you ‘n’ me has been apart for 88 long days now. If Mom didn’t have your handsome face on the computer, I’d barely remember what YOU look like. Imagine how hard it is for me to remember Delilah!!!!! (She’s black, right? ‘N’ pleasin’ly plump? Or is that Greta? Or Annie? Or Maria?????? Oh, no matter! I’m gonna get humped, no matter what she looks like!!!!!)

(“Louie! Watch your mouth!!!!”

“Sorry, Mom.”)

So I gotta go now ‘n’ think up some swift openin’ lines for Delilah, ‘n’ I gotta practice my hungry look for Mr. Crezwell, so he tosses me some burnt meat scraps offa the grill, ‘n’ I gotta remember my lovable gee-whillikers I’m-just-a-harmless-ol’-mutt faces for Miz Crezwell, so she don’t lock Delilah up in the attic before I can have my way with her ‘n’ — oh, geez, this is just overloadin’ my circuits, Pops, waitin’ for YOU to come home ‘n’ waitin’ for Delilah, too!

Your overly excited hyperactive,

Louie.

P.S. Sorry this letter is so short, but I got a gazillion things on my mind. I’ll do better tomorrow!!!!

Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, permit me to say this, but sometimes you can be a bit … well … fickle. As in, Stoli Jane, as in, Maria, as in, etc. Well, I think you will have a wunnerful, wunnerful time with Delilah. She has the maturity to handle a young, whippersnapper like you without any trouble. She might even teach you a thing or two. Lunch dates are good for you, as long as you are closely chaperoned. 
Pops
P.S. Good luck with that humpin’ notion of yours.
Published in: on September 8, 2010 at 12:35 am  Leave a Comment  

Sept. 6, from Louie, Day 87

Dear Pops,

I try most studiously — I truly do — but no matter how hard I work it with my slide rule ‘n’ my protractor ‘n’ my secret MIB GPS unit, I just can’t figure out this human concept of calendars.

Take today, for instance.

Mom said it was a holiday.

‘N’ my ears immediately perked up, ‘cuz holidays mean parties ‘n’ presents ‘n’ feasts of MEAT!!!!! But before I could write out my invitations to Chopper ‘n’ Marley ‘n’ the other guys, Mom said, noooooooooooooo, it wasn’t THAT kinda holiday. It was just Labor Day.

“No Santa Claus ‘n’ reindeer cavortin’ most unnaturally with little elves?” I asked.

“No,” Mom said.

“No white bunnies layin’ pastel eggs?” I asked 

“No,” Mom said.

“No witches abductin’ innocent baby humans with poison candy?” I asked.

“No,” Mom said.

“NO TURKEY??????” I demanded.

‘N’ I was most disappointed when Mom said “no” once again.

“Well, what the heck kinda holiday is that??????” I pouted, ‘cuz I really wanted a bird roastin’ in the oven.

“Labor Day,” Mom explained, “is the day the American worker gets to rest from all his toils ‘n’ troubles ‘n’ give his thanks for the 40-hour work week ‘n’ overtime pay at time-n-a-half ‘n’ medical insurance ‘n’ pension plans ‘n’ equal pay for equal work ‘n’ no dress codes.”

I sniffed. That didn’t sound very holidacious at all.

But then I thought of the silver linin’. “You’ll be home all day with ME!!!!!” I said exultantly, ‘n’ immediately I had visions of pickin’ chickens ‘n’ such.

But Mom just shook her head sadly ‘n’ said no, she had to work.

“But you’re an American worker!” I protested. “It’s your holiday!!!!”

“No,” Mom sighed, “it’s not. I’m exempt.”

I cocked my head in puzzlement. “I don’t unnerstand.”

“In return for the privilege of keepin’ my job, I’m exempt from holidays off, days off, extra pay ‘n’ frolickin’ with you,” Mom said, ‘n’ she sounded most most bitter.

“Geez, Mom,” I said, “that stinks.”

“It surely does,” Mom agreed, ‘n’ even though it was a national day of celebration for everyone else, she trudged off to that EWP after takin’ me on only two mediocre hikes ‘n’ fillin’ my food bowl with mediocre Mighty Dog bits. There was no festivities for her or me.

BUT WAIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Even in my darkest hour of deprivation, forced to patrol the Homeland by my lonesome ‘cuz Mom was slavin’ away at that EWP, she managed to think up a surprise for me. ‘N’ when she finally burst through the kitchen door at midnight, her arms was overflowin’ with —

LEFTOVER WIENERS!!!!!!!

Seems Mom organized a picnic at work so’s she ‘n’ her fellow toilers could have a moment of laughter in the midst of relentless deadlines, ‘n’ Mom bein’ Mom, she overplanned the menu, ‘n’ despite the voracious appetites of some fellas called henchers, there was many many extra  WIENERS, ‘n’ Mom brought ’em all home for ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So I’m most disappointed that I didn’t get to march in no parades or commandeer any floats or judge the Barberton Labor Day Beauty Queen contest, but my tummy is full to burstin’ now, Pops, ‘n’ even though I still don’t unnerstand this concept of a holiday that don’t include me ‘n’ Mom, I’m very VERY satisfied with my dinner.

‘N’ somethin’ tells me there is even MORE wieners waitin’ for my breakfast (burp!!!!).

God bless America.

Louie.

Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, I consider every day with you in it holidacious. That’s because you are the WBD. So, more wieners for Louie!!!
Pops
Published in: on September 7, 2010 at 1:06 am  Leave a Comment  

Sept. 5, from Louie, Day 86

Dear Dad,

Your last letter just stung me, STUNG me, I tell you.

How could you even begin to entertain the notion that I would give my most lovin’ Mom a black eye?????

SHEEESH!!!!

OK, so I’ve swatted her a coupla times in the past, but that’s always been by accident, ‘cuz Mom don’t know how to roughhouse with us manly dogs. But geez, Pops, if I’d’ve clobbered her in the head, No. 1, I woulda said so, ‘cuz that always makes for an amusin’ story, ‘n’ No. 2, if I was so inclined to DENY it, I’d’ve come up with a MUCH better story than flyin’ acorns.

Geez, don’t you appreciate my literary powers better’n that??????

MOM WAS ASSAULTED BY FLYIN’ ACORNS, gosh darn it!!!!! (Well, it mighta really been a stone. Mom inspected the patio this mornin’, ‘n’ amongst the many acorns, she found a lethal round stone, ‘n’ it’s entirely possible that a deranged squirrel flung it at her eye with his slingshot, ‘n’ if you hadn’t insulted me with your veiled accusations, I might even now be explorin’ THAT possibility as a story line — but no, you ruint it. Mom’s got a black eye ‘n’ it wasn’t my doin’ ‘n’ you’re just gonna have to live with that explanation.)

So there.

I’m sooooooooo disappointed in you, Pops, that I can barely remember the REAL adventures I was gonna tell you about from today. Like our very satisfyin’ return to the dog park this mornin’ (Mom is REALLY fallin’ down in the hikin’ department) ‘n’ the way I drew upon my philanderin’ greyhound daddy’s genes to overtake the pack as  we raced around the perimeter after a dog who was runnin’ outside the fence. We did THREE WHOLE LAPS, ‘n’ Pops, I was a racin’ machine. Mom says she could almost hear the denizens of the racetrack cheerin’ as they clutched their bettin’ slips to their chests ‘n’ I come outta nowhere to take the lead ‘n’ HOLD it all the way around the park. Forget my Lab mom, with the heart of a slut! Mom says I was a true greyhound in profile, ‘n’ my speed was breath-takin’ ‘n’ my strategy for winnin’ was quite intricate ‘n’ successful.

Mom hugged me most vigorously when it was over ‘n’ the other humans was clappin’ at my performance. (Say, maybe I oughta give up my federal commission ‘n’ look into racin’ as a career? We could travel all over America ‘n’ even Ireland, ‘n’ I could support you ‘n’ Mom in the luxury to which you oughta be accustomed. ‘N’ I could have my choice of groupies ‘n’ such. Wouldn’t that be swell?)

So then we come home, ‘n’ I spent the rest of the mornin’ chewin’ on good quilts ‘n’ bed pillows ‘n’ Mom’s favorite jeans, ‘cuz I was still flyin’ on adrenaline. Racin’ sure does stir me up.

But then, darn her, Mom went off to that EWP, ‘n’ I was forced to nap the rest of the day. dreamin’ of winnin’ Wimbledon ‘n’ NASCAR ‘n’ the World Series. By the time Mom come home, I was ready for a fearsome gallop around the neighborhood, ‘cuz I really wanted to get me a trophy with my name enscribed on it. But instead I had to settle for an abbreviated walk to the wrong end o’ the street, ‘cuz Mom said when she drove home, there was a convention of cats goin’ on in the park, ‘n’ as much as I begged her otherwise, she wouldn’t take me that direction so’s I could bust up their proceedin’s. Sometimes Mom isn’t no fun at all.

But then she give me a dinner drippin’ with the last of our pickin’ chicken leftovers, ‘n’ that was so righteous, I’m burpin’ loudly even as I type. Mom has an evil habit of seducin’ me with greasy meat. Have you ever noticed that about her, Pops? She has a terrible knack for findin’ a fella’s weak spot ‘n’ just borin’ into it. Gosh, she’s wily that way.

OK, it’s gettin’ late, ‘n’ I know you’re busy, what with your big move today, so I’ll cut this short.

Just let me repeat, I never EVER walloped Mom in the eye, ‘n’ I hope I’ve thoroughly disabused you o’ that notion.

Thank goodness MOM knows better.

Countin’ down the days until your joyous return,

Louie.

Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, of course I believe you. Besides, I have independent verification (from Mom) that she was struck (amazingly) by a flying acorn. It’s just that sometimes the big ol’ Lab side of you overpowers the sleek greyhound side of you and, well, let’s just say that Mom has the bruises to show for it. However, like you say, Mom certainly is wily and certainly does zero in on us guys’ weak spots. So, who knows? For now, I’ll go with the amazing flying acorn story.
Pops
Published in: on September 6, 2010 at 12:59 am  Leave a Comment  

Sept. 4, from Louie, Later on Day 85

Pops!

Mom’s been shot!!

In the eye!!!

By some dude named EARL!!!!

‘N’ it wasn’t MY FAULT!!!!!

It was right after I wrote you my first letter about our most glorious mornin’ at the dog park. Mom had just finished her chorin’ ‘n’ stepped outside to see whether she needed a jacket for our Pre-Work Walk, ‘n’ that’s when it most unexpectedly happened.

Earl was gustin’ through the valley with most lively winds, ‘n’ just as Mom stepped outside, he fired off a fearsome grenade of acorns, ‘n’ they exploded right in Mom’s face!!!

I heard Mom gasp, ‘n’ I spun around just in time to see her clutch her head ‘n’ stagger into the air-conditionin’. She was stunned, Pops, just STUNNED, ‘n’ if it hadn’t’ve been for my excellent MIB first aid trainin’, I think we mighta lost her.

I immediately guided her most carefully back into the house, ‘cuz she was too blinded to fend for herself, tucked her into her chair ‘n’ tenderly applied cold compresses to her head to fight the swellin’ ‘n’ subcutaneous bleedin’.

I know, Pops, I know, you’re shakin’ your head ‘n’ saying ACORNS??????

Well, these was lethal projectiles, ‘n’ if she hadn’t’ve been wearin’ her glasses ‘cuz she’s almost blind anyway, she woulda been blinded for real. It was that nasty!!!! 

So I sat ‘n’ held her hand for many many minutes until the shock wore off, ‘n’ after a while she sniffed ‘n’ bravely agreed to take me on my walk anyway. (I woulda discouraged her, but I’d been drinkin’ up gobs o’ water ‘n’ I really had to pee. So we went out walkin’, but in deference to her injuries, I kept it on the short side ‘n’ led her home without rippin’ out her arms or nothin’.)

Well, I thought she oughta stay home with me, so’s I could nurse her ‘n’ lick her face, but she stubbornly insisted on goin’ off to that EWP, even though her eye was swellin’ ‘n’ her head was throbbin’. She said her work contract don’t allow sick days for assault by acorn. ‘N’ who’d believe such a sorry excuse anyway?

So I let her go. But let me tell you, Pops, I was frettin’ ‘n’ pacin’ all evenin’, ‘cuz I think Mom was in most painful ‘n’ dire straits.

Well, when she got home, she wasn’t staggerin’ no more, but POPS!!!! She’s got a great big black eye! From an acorn!!!!! How peculiar is THAT????

I almost told her she looked most dreadful, but I stopped myself in the nick o’ time. Louie’s not THAT dumb!!!! ‘N’ when she insisted on blingin’ me up for our Midnight Stroll, I cheerfully agreed, ‘cuz, you know, I had to pee again. But once again, I was considerate. I took care o’ business real quick, ‘n’ I didn’t go chasin’ any phantoms of the night. ‘N’ when we got back in the house, I was extra patient while Mom made my dinner, ‘cuz I knew she wasn’t feelin’ so cheerful.

‘N’ if Mom wasn’t too talkative on the phone tonight, that’s why. She didn’t wanna whimper to you about her boo-boos when there wasn’t nothin’ you could do about them anyway.

But good golly, she sure has a most colorful face!!!!!

Well, I’ve already chased her off to bed with a great big dose o’ Tylenol ‘n’ a little bit o’ red juice to wash it down. (I know, I know, never mix drugs ‘n’ alcohol, but these is special circumstances.) ‘N’ as soon as I sign off, I’m gonna crawl in bed beside her ‘n’ periodically lick her face with my antiseptic tongue. ‘Cuz Mom’s gotta get better ‘n’ take me for a hike in the mornin’ ‘n’ feed me meaty enhancements for breakfast.

So don’t you worry none. I’m sure she’ll get better.

But if she’s got a green face when she picks you up at the airport next week, don’t you go gaspin’ ‘n’ recoilin’ in horror. It’ll still be Mom beneath all them bruises.

Your nursemaid,

Louie.

Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, thank you for taking such great care of Mom. That musta been really dreadful for her, bein’ attacked by acorns and all. Especially that subcutaneous bleedin’. I’m sure she’ll be better soon, though.
Pops
P.S. Uh Lou, you didn’t make up that story about the attackin’ acorns, did you? I mean, you do get rambunctious with Mom sometimes.
Published in: on September 5, 2010 at 12:56 am  Leave a Comment