Sept. 4, from Louie, Early Day 85

Oh boy oh boy oh boy, Pops, what a mornin’! What a mornin’ just made for us dogs!

The wunnerful rain yesterday swept away all the heat goblins to Death Valley, where they belong, ‘n’ it was darn near nippy this mornin’ when Mom let me out in the back yard. (SHE called it nippy; I called it PERFECT! ‘N’ I was on her butt IMMEDIATELY for a rip-snortin’ excursion!)

Well, Mom bundled herself up in many shirts ‘n’ pants, ‘n’ since she quite irresponsibly didn’t feel like hikin’, she took me to the dog park instead. I, of course, didn’t complain about THAT ‘cuz, c’mon, Pops, a chance to run like the wind is MUCH better than luggin’ Mom’s cheese cracker crinkled thighs up mountains.

‘N’ oh boy oh boy oh boy, did I RUN!!!!!! The park was PACKED with dogs. There was boxers ‘n’ there was huskies ‘n’ there was hounds ‘n’ there was Labs ‘n’ there was mutts of no particular persuasion other than DOG, ‘n’ they was all so joyful for the overcast skies ‘n’ the brisk breezes that they IMMEDIATELY swarmed around me ‘n’ invited me for a heart-throbbin’ dash around the perimeter. ‘N’ even though Louie usually prefers to take care o’ personal business first, gosh, I couldn’t help myself. I yelped lustily ‘n’ the race was on!

Oh, Pops, I did many many laps, ‘n’ the slobber flew like rain, ‘n’ the stinky girlie shampoo slithered right offa my back, replaced by the fine stench of rasslin’ dogs. Mom run outta breath her own self just watchin’ me. (She worries a lot that since she’s ever so old ‘n’ feeble, I don’t get enough exercise while you’re gone, ‘n’ the last coupla weeks while we was fryin’ under that fearsome sun, I wasn’t in the mood for much of anythin’ but swimmin’. ‘N’ I mighta added a pound or two to my brawny chest. But I sure burned up a gazillion calories — whatever the heck THEY are — gallopin’ from fence post to fence post this mornin’!)

Oh, gosh, I had a blast!!!! ‘N’ I got scared only once when I lost Mom in the pack o’ humans ‘n’ I had to break off from the boys ‘n’ go find her. Which I did, ‘n’ after I lectured her sternly about always stayin’ out in the open so’s I can spot her whenever the urge happens to cross my pea-sized brain, I was off for another round of glorious RUNNIN’!!!!!

‘N’ then I collapsed in an exhausted heap at the gate ‘n’ begged Mom to carry me home.

I was all wore out.

In fact, I’m so wore out, this letter is gonna be kinda short, ‘cuz there’s a great big comfy corner of the couch callin’ my name. I need a nap.

‘N’ I deserve it.

‘Cuz I’m Louie.

‘Nuff said.

P.S. Thank you for that ever-so-thoughtful phone message this mornin’. I woulda been quite frantic to discover that you hadn’t sent me no letter. (‘N’ let’s not even discuss how MOM woulda reacted if her mailbox had been empty. She woulda been imagin’ all sorts of gruesome ‘n’ bloody fates for you on the lonely mountains.) So thank you for easin’ my mind.

Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, I can just picture you runnin’ like the wind with all the boys down at the park. After the long summer siege of hot weather, this musta felt wunnerful.
Published in: on September 4, 2010 at 11:52 am  Leave a Comment  

Sept. 3, from Louie, Day 84

Dear Pops,

I am sorry to inform you that once again, you have missed an entire summer in the Homeland.

Oh, it was close. That blisterin’ old Mother Nature tried her best to hang on, flingin’ fiery arrows of ozone at our very eyeballs day after day after day, but this mornin’ as me ‘n’ Mom was strollin’ through the soccer fields at the dog park, the old bitch finally give it up.

‘N’ it didn’t come a moment too soon.

We went to the dog park early, ‘cuz it was still most stultifyin’ly hot ‘n’ Mom ‘n’ me was stewin’ even before we got to the gate. But then we tripped over somethin’ MOST unusual — a very LARGE  feather was flutterin’ in the breeze along the fence.

I sniffed at it most hungrily. I never SEEN such a big feather before, ‘n’ I was prepared to chew it to shreds before it could work any evil spells on us (after all, it smelled most tantalizin’ly of POULTRY), but Mom yanked me back. “No, Louie,” she said. “Don’t harm that feather! It’s a sign!”

“A sign of pickin’ chicken!” I said, ‘n’ licked my chops.

“No, you barbarian!” Mom said. “That’s an EAGLE feather, ‘n’ it’s a sign from our Native American friends that the seasons is passin’, ‘n’ a crisp fall is on the way. So don’t you go harmin’ that feather!”

Well, Pops, the heat has been most hard on Mom, ‘n’ I think her brain has been baked by too many hikes in the blazin’ sun. A SIGN from our NATIVE AMERICAN FRIENDS????? Oh, geez.

But the boys was waitin’ for me in the park, ‘n’ I didn’t try to debate her, ‘cuz how can you debate a female human who is obviously sufferin’ from heat stroke? So we went into the park, ‘n’ I spent a jolly 10 minutes rompin’ with the guys, even though the heat was still quite depressin’. The boys ‘n’ their humans felt it, too, ‘cuz one by one, they left me, ‘n’ suddenly there was no one to play with, ‘n’ Louie wasn’t nearly pooped out. So Mom decided to walk me down the gravel road to the soccer fields so’s I could finish with my business.

Well, unnoticed by me ‘n’ Mom, clouds had been movin’ in ‘n’ as we crossed the grass ‘n’ headed along the tree line  back to the dog park,  suddenly……


‘N’ suddenly……

The breeze was cool!!!!!

‘N’ suddenly…..


“Oh, Louie!!!!” Mom said exultantly, “it’s gonna RAIN!!!!!!”

‘N’ we both lifted our heads to the skies, ‘n’ at that VERY MINUTE, the clouds shuddered ‘n’ commenced to spillin’ cool droplets of rain on our faces.

Well, we was both so delighted at our sudden turn in fortunes that we cavorted all over the soccer field, dancin’ ‘n’ kickin’ up our heels as the rain slithered down our backs ‘n’ oozed under our many hairs (well, MY many hairs) ‘n’ the temperature plummeted (Mom’s always wanted to use that word in a meaningful way) ‘n’ we got soaked down to our skivvies ‘n’ WE DIDN’T CARE!!!!!! Oh, golly, but we musta been a sight, frolickin’ in the storm instead of runnin’ for Miss Corolla. It was almost as good as a dip at Bow Wow Beach. (Mom said even better, ‘cuz it didn’t stink so much.) ‘N’ we laughed ‘n’ run ‘n’ rolled in the wet grass (well, I rolled) until suddenly we heard thunder boomers, ‘n’ then me ‘n’ Mom come to our senses ‘n’ dashed back to the parkin’ lot.

We was both soggy ‘n’ drippin’ as we crawled into Miss Corolla, ‘n’ I think we both left puddles on the seats, but golly, it felt sooooooooooo good, Mom didn’t lecture me once about my muddy feet. (Well, how could she? She was muddy, too!!!!) ‘N’ we laughed deliriously all the way home.

Summer is over, Pops. Oh, I’m sure there’ll be a coupla warm evenin’s left for you to grill me a T-bone, but nothin’ like the terrible times o’ the last few weeks. ‘N’ I’m feelin’ so FRISKY over the change in the weather, I gotta stop writin’ now so’s I can go tear up another  book ‘n’ maybe Mom’s socks ‘n’ her work shoes ‘n’ her jacket ‘n’ all her towels, too! Oh, it’s gonna be hours ‘n’ hours yet before I’M ready to sleep!

Hee hee hee.

Your rejuvenated Louie.

P.S. Say, you don’t think Mom had somethin’ there with all that jabberin’ about the eagle feather, do you?


Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, the eagle feather is very, very important. It definitely is a sign. Mother sent it to you and Mom, on behalf of the Native people, who know Mother Nature differently than we do. It’s definitely a sign. But I’m not sure of what. We’ll have to wait ‘n’ see.
Published in: on September 4, 2010 at 1:26 am  Leave a Comment  

Sept. 2, from Louie, Day 83

Well, Pops, you will find this hard to believe after the many many letters I’ve written to you this summer about the lung-scorchin’, belly-boilin’, snout-searin’ heat, but I gotta tell you, today mighta been the worst day yet.

Mom rolled outta bed determined to take us on a righteous hike guaranteed to slice the lard right offa our butts, but as soon as she opened the back door to let me out for my mornin’ pee, we was IMMEDIATELY accosted by sulfurous clouds of ozone ‘n’ I barfed. It was THAT hot!

“EEEEuuuuwwww!” Mom said, ‘cuz it was quite noxious, ‘n’ she waved her hands vigorously in front o’ her face. But I felt much better, ‘n’ I slithered through the heat molecules to find a cool spot to relieve my other end.

Well, I thought Mom would cancel our mornin’ hike for sure, but she can be quite stubborn sometimes, ‘n’ after she coffee’d herself up (someday you’ll have to ‘xplain to me why humans crave HOT beverages on a SWELTERIN’ mornin’), she drug me out for a hike in Sand Run. Now any other mornin’, this woulda been just a mediocre workout — hardly any climbs to speak of. But Pops, it was like climbin’ through hot chicken grease. We neither one of us could barely breathe, ‘n’ as for chasin’ chipmunks or squirrels or deer — ha!!!! If any one of ’em had come outta their cool breezy caves, I wouldn’t’ve had the energy to so much as snort at ’em. It took all my willpower just to drag Mom along the trail — ‘n’ it took all hers just to hang onto my leash. We was two whupped puppies by the time we got back to Miss Corolla.

Mom revived somewhat once we got home ‘n’ tore into the dishes ‘n’ her cookin’ chores. (She tossed together a most delectable casserole of leftover CHICKEN, ‘n’ the smell of it cookin’ woulda made me swoon if I wasn’t already swoonin’ from the heat.)  I know it’s my sworn duty to interfere with Mom whenever she’s doin’ her chorin’, but I couldn’t be bothered. I just sprawled on the kitchen floor ‘n’ occasionally raised my head to sniff the poultry smells comin’ offa the stove.

‘N’ once Mom built her casserole, she couldn’t be bothered much, neither. She just collapsed in her chair with her puzzle book, ‘n’ every once in a while, she’d say, “Louie, I really oughta scrub down the bathroom.”

‘N’ I’d lift my head ‘n’ say, “Bathroom’s not goin’ anywhere, Mom. The dirt’ll still be there tomorrow.”

“Good point,” Mom would say, ‘n’ she’d go back to her puzzle book.

‘N’ then a little later, she’d say, “Louie, I really oughta vacuum the livin’ room.”

‘N’ I’d lift my head ‘n’ say, “Rug’s not goin’ anywhere, Mom. It’ll be just as stinky tomorrow.”

“Good point,” Mom would say, ‘n’ she’d go back to her puzzle book.

Well, we did this all afternoon, back ‘n’ forth, but finally it got to be early evenin’ ‘n’ we hadn’t done NUTHIN’ to justify a day off from that EWP, so even though the temperature was still up above 90, ‘n’ even though Mom spent 40 whole dollars to turn my hide into a glistenin’, gleamin’ coat of black diamonds, she got out my gay collar ‘n’ we toddled off to Bow Wow Beach.

Note the lack of capital letters ‘n’ exclamation points. My brain was baked, ‘n’ I couldn’t get excited about nothin’, ‘n’ I darned near napped all the way to Stow. But once we pulled into the parkin’ lot ‘n’ I could SMELL the algae bloomin’, my ears perked up ‘n’ I caught my 10th wind ‘n’ I tore through the gate ‘n’ I did a great big belly flop right in the lake.

Oh, gosh, but that felt sooooooooooooooooooooooooo good.

We did two most energizin’ laps around the lake, ‘n’ I swum ‘n’ splashed ‘n’ dove ‘n’ raced ‘n’ rassled ‘n’ snorkeled ‘n’ water skiied with quite a few fellas (‘n’ one bitch who was really turned on by my girlie shampoo) but after the second round, with my belly full of reproducin’ algae, I told Mom in no uncertain terms that I was done. I trotted up to the exit, ‘n’ I wouldn’t budge until she leashed me up ‘n’ took me home.

“Louie, we only been here half an hour,” Mom grumbled. “It’s hardly worth the drive!”

“I’m drained, Mom,” I said. ‘N’ I slept all the way home, shuttin’ my ears to her complainin’.

So it’s nighttime now, ‘n’ the air conditionin’ is workin’ double time ‘cuz it’s still a pressure cooker out there, but I’ve had me a great big dinner of leftover chicken, ‘n’ I don’t care how late Mom stays up watchin’ them silly Browns. I’m goin’ to bed.

‘N’ maybe tomorrow, we’ll wake up to a snowstorm!

Your wiltin’,


Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, what a tormentin’ summer it has been for you. But, my son, you must hang on. You see, the calendar now says SEPTEMBER and soon it will be autumn and the leaves will be falling along with the temperature. Yeah, you are right, one of these mornings you will awaken to a snowstorm and the summer of your temperature discontent will be a distant memory. Well, for you, it won’t be any kind of memory because you always live in the today. As you should. After all, none of us can predict tomorrow, so why worry about it? You do possess a wisdom, Lou.
Published in: on September 2, 2010 at 9:40 pm  Leave a Comment  

Sept. 1, from Louie, Day 82

Dear Male Human Owner,

Even though you will be home in less than two weeks, I am afraid I will not be at the airport to lick your face.

In fact, by the time you read this letter, I hope to be dippin’ my abbreviated claws into the Mississippi for a refreshin’ swim before continuin’ my hitchhikin’ trek to Las Vegas, where I intend to live the rest of my days as an American Gigolo.

Well, what the heck else CAN I do after what you ‘n’ Mom allowed to happen to me today?

‘N’ don’t you even TRY to pretend that you didn’t know what was goin’ on. You knew EXACTLY what Mom was up to, ‘n’ you didn’t lift a FINGER to stop her. 

Oh, shame on you, Pops! SHAME ON YOU!!!!!!

That evil man with the water hoses VIOLATED me — AGAIN!!!!! Oh, I won’t bore you with the details, ‘cuz you OBVIOUSLY DON’T CARE!!!! I’ve described the excruciatin’ horror of the dog wash to you in the past. You KNOW what terrible, terrible things that evil man does to me!

‘N’ yet you didn’t stop it.

What kind o’ dog owner ARE you? Have you no heart? No soul??????

Well, obviously not.

I risk my life 24/7 to protect Mom in your absence, ‘n’ how do you thank me? You let that PERVERT douse me in girlie shampoo, rip out my toenails ‘n’ tie a friggin’ KERCHIEF around my neck!!!! Is it any wonder that the only career option left for me now is to become a highly paid male escort in Vegas? (My union rep says I should be makin’ six figures by Christmas, ‘n’ he’s takin’ only a 51 percent cut. ‘N’ don’t think you’re getting the other 49. Before I leave, I’m sendin’ an e-mail to Tommy Lee to make Fat Annie the beneficiary of all my many federal benefits.)

I WARNED you guys to never do this to me again. But you didn’t listen. So now I’m runnin’ away, ‘n’ you can’t talk me out of it.

(“Oh, Louie, wrap up your letter to Pops! It’s almost dinnertime!”)

Ummm, where was I? Oh, yeah, your inexcusable behavior ‘n’ how it’s forcin’ me to take this drastic action. I feel real bad about leavin’ Mom defenseless for the next coupla weeks, but then, she’s got it comin’, ‘n’ if the orcs rip her body into many tiny shreds before your return, well, that’s life.

(“Oh, Louie, it’s pickin’ chicken, ‘n’ it’s extra greasy!!!!!”)

Ummmmmm, yeah, I gotta pack now, ‘cuz I gotta get goin’ so’s I can be in Illinoise by mornin’. So don’t you even try to stop me, you hear?

(“Oh, darn it, Louie, look at that big greasy gob o’ gristle on the kitchen floor!”)


Gotta sign off, Pops, ‘n’ slurp that up before Mom slips on the grease ‘n’ breaks her neck or somethin’. Talk to you tomorrow.



Pops replies:

Oh, Louie … Lou, Lou, Lou. Well, anytime you start thinkin’ like this, I want you to recite these three words over and over and over:
1. Paulina
2. WBM
3. t-bone
Published in: on September 1, 2010 at 8:34 pm  Leave a Comment  

Aug. 31, from Louie, Day 81

Well, Pops, we had a very VERY close call this evenin’.

Them evil dog-lovin’ bleedin’ heart liberals at that EWP almost talked Mom into bringin’ home a twin sister for Louie.

Thank GOODNESS she come to her senses in time!!!!!

I’ll give you the back story as far as I know it.

It was a soul-drainin’, heart-cloggin’, mind-scorchin’ day in the valley. It was so darned hot, when Mom took me to Sand Run for a hike through the SHADIEST part of the forest this mornin’, even I could barely stand it. I was beggin’ her after only one poop to please turn around ‘n’ take us home. The trail was hot lava on my tender paws. The air was so humid, it was bakin’ my lungs ‘n’ turnin’ them into little creme brulees. My eyeballs was soft-boiled eggs. But Mom plodded ahead, ‘cuz she said it was our only chance to exercise ‘n’ have excitin’ adventures before my long night alone whilst she toiled at the EWP.

‘Cept it was so freakin’ awful out, there was no one on the trail to create no adventures — even the invadin’ aliens had more sense’n to crawl out of their slimy hidey-holes ‘n’ terrorize the fine citizens of the valley.

Mom felt awful bad when she left me alone, ‘cuz she knew she hadn’t done nothin’ to make my day memorable, ‘n’ now I was stuck alone in the house for many many hours, without no one to talk to or cuddle with or take my mind offa my bladder.

‘N’ I could see her point. Sometimes I get fearsome lonely, sittin’ at the front window just waitin’ for Mom to come home. (‘Cept on days like this, when I can’t wait for Mom to get outta the way so I can curl up in the damp shower ‘n’ sleep happily in the cool mists.)

Well, as Mom told me later, one of the many many articles she edited this evenin’ was an obligatory puff piece about the new county dog pound, ‘n’ of course, it came with adorable pictures of the inmates, just waitin’ to be rescued.

‘N’ one of ’em was a four-year-old yellow Lab — just my age. A girl Lab. With big brown eyes ‘n’ the cutest black snout. Except for the color difference, she  coulda been my twin. Or so Mom said.

‘N’ immediately all the fine ladies at that EWP was tellin’ Mom how she oughta go adopt this fine girl dog, ‘cuz she’d make a wunnerful companion for Louie on all those many nights when Mom hasta work ‘n’ I don’t.

Well, when Mom come home ‘n’ told me THIS part of the story, I had to agree most vigorously with her co-workers. It would be OUTSTANDIN’ to have another dog to romp through the back yard with me ‘n’ dig many many holes to China. ‘N’ think of all the rasslin’ matches we could have over the quilts!  ‘N’, oh golly, there would ALWAYS be someone to play tag with ‘n’ hide’n’ seek ‘n’ cops ‘n’ robbers ‘n’ ever so many other fine games. ‘N’ on rainy days, we could just curl up in front of the patio windows ‘n’ keep one eye on the fence, ever watchful for invaders, while we have intellectual conversations about interest rates ‘n’ the demise of the American theater ‘n’ who really shot J.R.

‘N’ I was quite miffed at Mom for comin’ home empty-handed.      

“You never think of me!” I said accusatorily.

“I always think of you,” Mom countered.

“Then why didn’t you go rescue this lovely yellow Lab?” I demanded. “We woulda been SOUL mates!!!!!”

“Oh, really?” Mom said.

“You bet!” I insisted. ‘N’ I was very, very outraged over the companionship Mom had denied me.

“Sooooooooooo,” Mom said, “you wouldn’t mind sharin’ your Little Buddies with another dog?”

Well, I had to stop ‘n’ think about that for a minute, but I got three Little Buddies, so, OK, I could give one up to an adopted sister.

“‘N’ you wouldn’t mind lettin’ another dog sleep in the big bed?” Mom asked. “‘Cuz, you know, when Dad gets home, there won’t be room for but one dog.”

“Well,” I hedged, “that one dog would be me, right?”

“Maybe,” Mom said noncommitally.

MAYBE???? What the heck did she MEAN?????

“‘N’ you wouldn’t mind if Mom gives another dog a belly rub?” Mom asked.

I was horror struck. “You wouldn’t!” I said.

“I’d have to,” Mom said. “Fair’s fair, after all.”

“But Moooooooooooooooooom,” I said. “A BELLY RUB????? With another DOG????”

‘N’ Mom just nodded her head gravely.

Well, I pondered that for a while, ‘n’ I finally decided that maybe I could stand it if Mom rubbed another belly only when I wasn’t lookin’. But it still stung a little to think that she would ever do such a thing.

But then she delivered the coop de grass.

“‘N’ you wouldn’t mind sharin’ your gristly bits o’ meat with another dog?” Mom asked.

“No ^&#^*^*$%^& WAY!!!!!!” I shouted, absolutely indignant. Sisters is nice in concept, but how could Mom even THINK of sharin’ my pickin’ chickens ‘n’ grilled steak ‘n’ meatloaf gravy with another dog?????

My soul shriveled just thinkin’ about it, ‘n’ I immediately ordered Mom to FORGET any THOUGHTS of openin’ our SMALL house to a homeless critter from the pound (who was probably psychotic ‘n’ undeservin’ of a fine upstandin’ family, ‘cuz otherwise it woulda never been abandoned in the first place ‘n’ what was Mom THINKIN’ to even consider sharin’ Louie’s enhancements with a drifter????? Sheesh.)

Sooooooooooo, I think I got Mom talked outta bringin’ home any sisterly companion for me. It DOES get lonely here at night sometimes, waitin’ for Mom to come home from that EWP, but in just two weeks, you’ll be back here to keep my company ‘n’ we’ll be havin’ many fine adventures at the Beaver Marsh ‘n’ Indigo Lake, ‘n’ we just don’t need no interloper from the pound, ‘cuz after all, there’s only so many legs this house can accommodate.

‘N’ I’m ever so grateful Mom come to her senses before draggin’ home some skanky degenerate pound dog to share our bed.


Mom can be SOOOOOOOOOOOOO irresponsible sometimes!

The only dog you ‘n’ Mom will ever need,


Pops replies:

Oh, Louie, you need not worry. First, that lovely lass from the pound undoubtedly already has found a home. Power of the press, you know. Second, there be but one dog in Mom’s heart, forever and ever. And that would be you! So, even if Mom does lose her senses and come home with a companion for you some day, don’t you give it a second thought. There can be only one WBD — and that’s YOU!
Published in: on September 1, 2010 at 1:24 am  Leave a Comment