June 30, from Louie, Day 30

Oh, Pops!

I had a dreadful nightmare today.

I dreamt Mom went back to that Evil Work Place.

Only I wasn’t sleepin’ ‘n’ she was GONE!!!!!

I knew somethin’ nefarious was up when she insisted on a neighborhood walk this mornin’ instead of hikin’ in the woods, even though it hadn’t rained for a good 12 hours, so it wasn’t that muddy out.

‘N’ then, before she even finished her chores like she oughta done, she dragged me out for ANOTHER neighborhood walk.

“Geez, Mom, what gives? I barely digested my breakfast yet!”

“Gotta empty you out, Lou,” Mom said as she busily blinged me up. “Time’s a-wastin’!”

‘N’ we hoofed a double triple-time, ‘n’ just to show I got a mind of my own, I refused to poop.

“You’ll be sorry,” Mom said ominously.

‘N’ then she disappeared into the bathroom to do her shower thing, ‘n’ when she come out, she was wearin’ a UNIFORM!!!!!

Not flatterin’, Dad. Not flatterin’ at all.

‘N’ just like the bad old days, when Mom used to disappear for work ‘n’ leave me all alone until the early hours of the mornin’, she fluttered around the house, grabbin’ this ‘n’ that ‘n’ stuffin’ it in her purse, ‘n’ then she tossed me a Milkbone ‘n’ told me to guard the home front. ‘N’ before I finished chewin’, she was GONE!!!!!!!

Of course, I gobbled up every crumb of Milkbone first, but then the enormity of Mom’s actions hit me, ‘n’ I trepidaciously begun patrolling the windows. No Mom in the driveway. No Mom in the street. She LEFT ME, even though she PROMISED when she retired to never ever do that to me again!

Evil Mom. Evil evil evil.

Well, I tried nappin’ to keep my mind off my fears, ‘n’ when that didn’t work, I chewed on a puzzle book or two. But that wasn’t nearly as satisfyin’ as it used to be.

A tick's eye view of Louie.

A tick’s eye view of Louie.

So I sadly took my post at the front window ‘n’ waited — just like I used to do in the bad old days — ears pricked for the distinctive sound of Mr. Rav’s returnin’ engine.

I waited many, many minutes — weeks even. The shadows crept across the driveway. My empty tummy grumbled. ‘N’ my heart grew cold. I knew — just KNEW — that Mom had gone back to her evil ways ‘n’ was WORKIN’ again, ‘n’ ignorin’ my welfare.

I didn’t move a muscle. I waited like a rock, even though it wasn’t dark yet ‘n’ I had many lifetimes to go before Mom come home.

‘N’ then — omigod, before the sun even set!!!!! — I heard the familiar growl of Mr. Rav, a blob of red scooted up the driveway, ‘n’ THERE WAS MOM GRINNIN’ ‘N’ WAVIN’ AT ME AS SHE PULLED INTO THE GARAGE.

“Loooooooooooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuieeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” she squealed as she burst through the door.

“Mooooooooooooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!” I howled.

‘N’ forgettin’ all the dire things I’d planned to do to her for abandonin’ me, I snuggled up to her thighs ‘n’ licked her face as she rubbed my fur, ‘n’ gosh, it was sooooo good to have her home.

“Louie, Louie, Louie,” she said as she scratched behind my ears, “I told you I wouldn’t be gone for long. I told you! You just gotta have faith in your old Mom.”

“I do I do I do I do,” I slobbered.

‘N’ as soon as she could ditch her uniform, she blinged me up ‘n’ we went for a blissful hike on the Towpath ‘n’ then we come home to pizza.

Oh, good golly. The day started out so bad.

But now everythin’s all right.

‘N’ I hope I never EVER have that nightmare again.

Your much relieved,

Louie

Pops replies:

Pops is lookin' a little bushed on this hike.

Pops is lookin’ a little bushed on this hike.

Oh, Louie: That’s everyone’s worst nightmare — goin’ back to that evil work place. What a relief that it was only a bad dream. Sometimes you have to just pinch yourself — go ahead and try that, Lou.

Pops
p.s. One last photo from my hike up the mountain.
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Published in: on June 30, 2013 at 8:23 pm  Leave a Comment  

June 29, from Louie, Day 29

Dear Dad,

I regret to inform you that Lamb Chops is dead.

Probably.

‘N’ it’s ALL MOM’S FAULT!!!!!!

Louie's Yard of a Thousand Lakes.

Louie’s Yard of a Thousand Lakes.

You see, me ‘n’ Mom had just settled down for our afternoon salad (she eats the green stuff ‘n’ I snarf up anythin’ that was once livin’ flesh) when she was took by surprise by an afternoon thunder boomer. (I don’t know why she was surprised. We’ve had a thunder boomer nearly every afternoon since you left — which means the rain is all your fault ‘n’ you better come home RIGHT NOW ‘n’ make it stop! ‘Cuz I got mushrooms growin’ between my toes ‘n’ the ticks don’t like that. “Louie, you’re gettin’ sidetracked again. Your Pops don’t need to know about your toe fungus.” Oh, oops.)

ANYWAY, in our haste to save Mom’s gardenin’ tools ‘n’ close all the doors against the elements, SOMEONE forgot to count noses.

‘N’ the thunder was SOOOO boomin’, no one heard little Lamb Chops bleatin’ in the island.

Well, the storm pounded us for many, many minutes and the wind lashed our new shingles with many rotten tree limbs. Some crashed so loud, even I jumped in startlement.

So as soon as the storm veered off to harass Cuyahoga Falls, me ‘n’ Mom dashed out to inspect the damage. OK, we didn’t exactly climb UP to the roof, ‘cuz, you know, Mom’s too old ‘n’ I have too many legs, but we did peer at it most carefully from the ground, ‘n’ there wasn’t no OBVIOUSLY torn shingles. Just a mess of branches ‘n’ twigs litterin’ the roof.

Me ‘n’ Mom was just about to slap high-fives for survivin’ another vicious storm when we suddenly caught sight of somethin’ so terrible, I can barefully bring myself to describe it. Lamb Chops was lyin’ FACE DOWN in a vast puddle in the island.

“Moooooooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmm!” I howled. “Dooooooooooooo somethin’!”

Lamb Chops in her watery grave.

Lamb Chops in her watery grave.

Well, Mom bravely waded into the island, ‘n’ with a look of utter disgust, picked Lamb Chops up by two fingers. Mud caked her beautiful face — Lamb Chops’s, not Mom’s — ‘n’ water streamed from her woolly once-upon-a-time white body.

“Louie,” Mom said gravely, “I think she’s a goner.”

“Can’t you give her CPR or some mouth-to-mouth????” I pleaded.

The look Mom give me would’ve shriveled my private parts if I had any.

“BUT WE CAN’T JUST LET HER DIE!!!!!” I wailed.

Mom just sighed. “Louie, I’ll soak her in a bucket of water ‘n’ Mr. Clean, but don’t get your hopes up too high, ‘cuz once you’re drownded, you usually don’t come back.”

“Oh, thank you, Mom, thank you thank you thank you,” I chattered. “Lamb Chops is my very favorite, ‘n’ you just gotta make her better!”

So Lamb Chops is now soakin’ in the suds, where Mom says she’s gotta stay until mornin’. I’ll be pacin’ all night, just waitin’ for the sun to come up. ‘Cuz I really gotta have my Lamb Chops.

‘N’ while I’m pacin’, I’ll be thinkin’ of ways to get back at Mom.

‘Cuz, as you know, it’s HER fault Lamb Chops was locked out in the rain. She’s the adult here, not Louie.

So Mom is gonna pay.

Your vengeful,

Louie

Pops replies:

Oh, Louie: Where is our back yard? I see you lapping up from the Little Cuy in your own brave attempt to keep the floodwaters at bay. And I see that Lamb Chops fell victim. And I see a mighty oak has fallen upon the homestead. Oh my, Lou, maybe you can call Tommy Lee and get some federal flood relief. What a calamity has befallen Canyon Trail.

Pops
p.s. Don’t give hope on Lamb Chops. Your Mom can do amazin’ things.
Published in: on June 29, 2013 at 8:48 pm  Leave a Comment  

June 28, from Louie, Day 28

POPS!!!!

I got an AWARD!!!!!

It’s from the dog park police.

It’s a great big blazin’ red “G.”

‘N’ it stands for “Good Dog!!!!!”

(“Louie, you’re such an ass. It’s a Scarlet G for ‘gigolo.’ ”

“Which happens to be Italian for good dog. Everyone knows that.”

“You are a NITWIT!!!!”

“Thanks, Mom, I knew you’d see it my way.”)

ANYWAY, we went to the dog park this afternoon ‘n’ there was only two other dogs there, but I humped ’em both. In 47.5 seconds flat.

The dog park police said that was a record.

(Aw, shucks. It was nothin’.)

Louie wears his Scarlet G proudly.

Louie wears his Scarlet G proudly.

‘N’ then they hung this lovely award around my neck, ‘n’ I had to pose for pictures for all the newspapers ‘n’ TV stations ‘n’ international blogs, ‘n then we was gonna have some lovely punch ‘n’ cookies to celebrate, but a fearsome thunder boomer smashed overhead, blowin’ out everyone’s microphones, ‘n’ we all had to run lickety-split to our cars.

So I didn’t get the party that was rightfully my due, but I got this phantasmagorical award ‘n’ I’m never EVER gonna take it off. It’s the first award I ever won, ‘n’ I think it’s sooooooooooooo cool. Simple but elegant, ya know what I’m sayin’? Just like Louie.

‘N’ now that my birthday’s comin’ up, I think I’m gonna ask Mom to get me a big red G tattooed on my butt!!!!!!

Whaddya think, Pops? Huh? Whaddya think?

Your super proud,

Louie

Pops replies:

Oh no, Louie!!!!!

Not the scarlet G!
Well, it was to be expected, no? Your reputation continues to grow and NOT in a good way. Next step? Yup, I see banishment in your future, Louie.
Pops
p.s. That’s a very nice photo of you, though, Lou.
Published in: on June 28, 2013 at 8:01 pm  Leave a Comment  

June 27, from Louie, Day 27

A Midnight Poem,

by Louie.

‘Twas the night before Thursday, ‘n’ all through the house,
Not a creature was stirrin’, not even a mouse (‘cept the one Mom says is livin’ in the storage room, but we can’t talk about that now ‘cuz it’s messin’ up my meter).

The dishes was stacked in the washin’ machine,
‘cuz Mom had caught Louie lickin’ ’em clean.

The Buddies was scattered outside in the rain
‘cuz Louie had hid them from Mom once again.

‘N’ Mom in her T-shirt ‘n’ I in my cap
Had just settled down for a long summer’s nap. (“Louie, stop lyin’! You don’t sleep in a cap!” “Moooooooooooooooooooommmm, it’s called poetic license. It’s what real writers do. Which is why you don’t sell no books.” “That was unduly harsh, Lou.” “Then butt outta my poem.”)

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my quilt to see what was the matter.

Away to the foyer I flew like a flash
‘N’ slid to the window ‘n’ started to gnash.

For what should appear to my keen dog night vision
But ROCKY ‘n’ eight of his varminty cousins. (OK, that don’t rhyme so well, but it’s a rough draft. Gimme a break!)

Like orcs on a raid, they swarmed up the tree
‘N’ hopped on the roof as quick as could be!

“Now Ricky! Now Dicky! Now Mickey ‘n’ Rox,
On Iggy ‘n’ Piggy ‘n’ Venom ‘n’ Pox!

Louie feeds his literary soul.

Louie feeds his literary soul.

To the top of the shingles ‘n’ don’t you dare fall!
Now dance away! Dance away! Dance away all!”

Over the bedroom ‘n’ over the bath,
Over the TV (they cut quite a path),

Over the kitchen they boogied ‘n’ pranced
‘N’ I barked ‘n’ I barked as Rocky’s pals danced.

Mom huddled alone in fright in her bed,
But I couldn’t shut up; I just saw bright red.

I pounded the windows. I tore at the drapes.
I howled ‘n’ I snarled at those dastardly apes.

I was losin’ the battle; I almost give in,
When ZAP!!!!  Mother Nature barged her way in.

With one mighty bolt, she cleared off the roof.
Them varmints went flyin’. SLAM! POW! ‘N’ POOF!!!!!

I crawled back to bed in awe ‘n’ in wonder
As Mother unleashed a great roll of thunder.

But I heard her exclaim ‘ere she whirled outta sight,
“Now go back to sleep, ‘n’ have a good night.”

Louie

Pops replies:

Oh, Louie:

In Ohio there’s a dog named Louie!
He’s always so sweet,
especially around meat;
Sometimes he even writes poetry.
All the Internet knows Louie!
He writes his daily blog,
all these views from a dog,
His adventures are mostly true and many.
We can say this about Louie:
His house he does guard,
such a rascal, he’s a card.
When we’re down he makes us happy.
Pops
P.S. from Louie: Now I know where I get all my talent!
Published in: on June 27, 2013 at 8:51 pm  Leave a Comment  

June 26, from Louie, Day 26

Pops,

Mom is bein’ most unfair again, MOST unfair.

Today she went to a restaurant to eat MEAT with Miz Creswell, ‘n’ she didn’t take me.

That’s so wrong, I’m almost speechless.

It don’t matter that once again, it was so darned hot ‘n’ humid that I could barely bring myself to budge from the shower. (Mom was most annoyed when it come to her bath time. “There isn’t enough room in here for both of us, Lou!” “Deal with it, Mom.”)

‘N’ it don’t matter that once again, I got a flamin’ case of the nether region itchies ‘n’ I don’t wanna walk nowhere.

Miz Creswell waves to Pops.

Miz Creswell waves to Pops.

Mom had MEAT, ‘n’ I wasn’t invited, ‘n’ I am really, really, REALLY insulted.

“Oh, don’t be such a wuss, Lou,” Mom admonished as she primped in front o’ the mirror. “You know I always bring home leftovers.”

“But they aren’t fresh ‘n’ bloody,” I said.

“Thank goodness,” Mom shuddered.

‘N’ there’s gonna be thunder boomers — I saw it on the radar — ‘n’ I’m gonna be stuck here all alone!”

“Well, someone has to guard the home front, Lou,” Mom said. ” ‘N’ that’s your job.”

“What’s YOUR job?” I countered.

Mom smiled. “To have a girls’ afternoon out — without Louie!”

Well, I NEVER!!!!!

So I curled up on the couch to sulk ‘n’ wouldn’t even wave goodbye.

First off, Mom has no business wantin’ an afternoon off from Louie. That’s just rude. I’ve devoted my entire existence to her well-bein’, ‘n’ just ‘cuz we’re gettin’ a little on each other’s nerves (if that woman don’t stop snorin’, I might haveta stuff my snake Little Buddy down her throat) that’s no reason to give up quality time with Louie for a private lunch with Miz Creswell.

Did I mention that they had MEAT?????

‘N’ second off, I haven’t seen Miz Creswell since poor Delilah died, ‘n’ it ain’t right that I haven’t been able to express my proper condolences. Me ‘n’ Delilah were buddies with benefits, if you get my drift, ‘n’ what will the Creswells think of me if I don’t get to tell them in person just how bad I feel for them — and me?

This is just way bad etiquette on Mom’s part.

There's no such thing as a bad picture of Louie. But Mom.....

There’s no such thing as a bad picture of Louie. But Mom…..

‘N’ third off, there WERE thunder boomers while Mom was out partyin’, ‘n’ they was most frightful, ‘n’ she was irresponsible to knowin’ly leave me behind to suffer through ’em by myself.

Mom is the most inconsiderate, irresponsible, reprehensible —

“Oh, Louie, I’m heatin’ up the leftovers from lunch, ‘n’ I got chicken legs ‘n’ chicken thighs ‘n’ a whole bowl full of paprikash juice just for you!”

Whoops, gotta go, Pops. Can’t let that chicken get cold.

Your fickle,

Louie

Pops replies:

Oh, Louie: Speechless? Oh, I doubt it. It seems that you are never, ever speechless. Those are two very nice photos you sent. It’s good to see Ms. Creswell and, of course, it’s always welcome to see the lady of the house. You should be proud, Lou, to guard our house for such a fine-looking Mom.

Pops
Published in: on June 26, 2013 at 8:26 pm  Leave a Comment  

June 25, from Louie, Day 25

Dear Pops,

What an adventuresome day!

‘Specially when it started out so crappy!

When we stuck our snouts outdoors at the crack o’ nine-thirty, we had high hopes for some coolin’ breezes. But instead we was slapped in the face with a 400-hunnerd-degree blanket of cloisome humidity, ‘n’ my heart nearly shriveled up at the thought of our mornin’ hike.

But the gods was smilin’ on us ‘n’ made Mom come down with an unfortunate case of the tummy rumbles, ‘n’ all she could manage was a quick trip up the block ‘n’ back. I pretended to be quite miffed that she was ignorin’ her responsibilities to me, but inside I was cheerin’ ‘cuz, geez, I didn’t wanna hike in that heat. No way. No how.

So we spent a pretty low-key mornin’, with Mom occasionally moanin’ ‘n’ swearin’ she’d never ever eat Swiss chard again. (Well, I coulda warned her about THAT. I eat green stuff ‘n’ I barf, right? What’d she expect?)

Uncle Bob grillin' before the storm.

Uncle Bob grillin’ before the storm.

Things was lookin’ pretty borin’ on the Louie Letter front, but after a while, Mom got her colorin’ back ‘n’ after a revivin’ shower, she booted me into Mr. Rav ‘n’ we took a nice long drive to see —

Uncle Bob ‘n’ Uncle Tim!!!!!!

Pops, I was beside myself with delight, ‘cuz Uncle Bob ‘n’ Uncle Tim ALWAYS feed me good, ‘n’ I wasn’t disappointed, ‘cuz when we turned into the driveway, there was a GRILL smokin’ in front of the garage, ‘n’ when I bounded into the kitchen, I was accosted by the wunnerful smells of raw hamburger meat ‘n’ hot dogs!

I nearly swooned. Bacon last night, ‘n’ now THIS???? It was almost as good as havin’ you back home!!!!

Well, all four of us tucked into a mountain of meat (I passed on the baked beans, ‘cuz, you know, they give me terrible gas), ‘n’ we was just about to load up our plates with seconds when suddenly the sky got very VERY dark, ‘n’ a siren started screechin’ outta the game show channel.

“Uncle Tim!” I howled, ‘cuz he had custody of the remote, “what’s happenin’????”

“We got a storm warnin’, Lou,” he said gravely, ‘n’ flipped to the weather channel.

Pops, it was pulsin’ with day-glo charts ‘n’ psychedelic maps ‘n’ a man was sternly warnin’ everyone in Stark County to take cover IMMEDIATELY.

“Oh, well,” I said in relief. “That’s way down in Stark County.”

“Uh, Lou,” Mom said, “Uncle Bob ‘n’ Uncle Tim LIVE in Stark County.”

Louie cowers as the storm rumbles down the street.

Louie cowers as the storm rumbles down the street.

“OMIGOD, we’re all gonna die!!!!!” I shrieked, ‘n’ covered my ears with my paws.

“We oughta run to the basement,” Mom said firmly.

“We oughta check out the other weather stations,” Uncle Tim said, ‘n’ the TV flipped from channel to channel, where mad men ‘n’ mad women breathlessly told us the end was near.

“We oughta have dessert,” Uncle Bob said, and blandly sliced the pound cake. Was the man insane? Who could think of DESSERT at a time like this????

“Louie want a hot dog?” Uncle Bob asked.

Storm be damned! I went for the hot dog.

Well, the thunder boomed ‘n’ the lightnin’ flashed ‘n’ the rain pelted Mr. Rav until he looked shiny new, but since there’s no Little Cuyahoga in their back yard, we didn’t float away, ‘n’ no trees come crashin’ down, ‘n’ we didn’t miss a beat of Family Feud. But it sure did storm hard!

After about an hour, the skies calmed ‘n’ the weather maps was showin’ all green, so Uncle Bob packed us a survival kit ‘n’ me ‘n’ Mom took advantage of the break in the action to race home.

Which is where we are now, nibblin’ on our leftovers ‘n’ watchin’ warily as more clouds build up in the west. It’s lookin’ to be a long ‘n’ stormy night, but thanks to Uncle Bob, me ‘n’ Mom have the provisions to ride it out.

As long as Mom don’t hog the hot dogs.

Your ever-on-the-alert,

Louie

Pops replies:

Now THAT'S what Louie calls a tree!!!!!

Now THAT’S what Louie calls a tree!!!!!

Oh, Louie: You must take care of Mom. While you may have had the most adventuresomest day, it was a tough one for her. You must be brave, even when surrounded by thunder boomers.

Pops
p.s. Here’s another photo from the hike up the mountain. Lou, do you think that’s one big tree or is it a bunch of trees joined at the root? Enquiring minds want to know.
Published in: on June 25, 2013 at 8:30 pm  Leave a Comment  

June 24, from Louie, Day 24

Dear Pops,

It was almost the steal of the century.

That darned Mom. That darned, darned Mom!!!!!

You see, we was at Hardesty Park again, so’s we could listen to the music while we hiked. It was still hair-curlin’ hot, so Mom thought a little rock ‘n’ roll would put a spring in my step. (She just don’t realize, it’s all painful noise to me — triply painful in a heat wave.)

ANYWAY, we had made one circuit of the park, durin’ which I met a Doberman who telepathed me to put him outta his misery. His macho human had fitted him up with an electronic collar that could zap him with a gazillion volts if he dared to act like a dog. I really felt bad for the boy ‘n’ wished I coulda helped him — like maybe take a big chunk outta his human’s butt —  but I was afraid if I got too close, I’d be zapped, too. So I didn’t do nothin’.

But that’s a way different story. Let’s get back on track.

We was cuttin’ across the park on a side trail. Mom had a particular bench in her sights ‘cuz  she wanted to sit ‘n’ listen to the band for a spell. (Don’t know why. Even I knew the singer was killin’ Unchained Melody.) I was doggin’ it, ‘cuz, Pops, it was most suffocatin’ in the sun. Mom was tuggin’ a little irritably at my bling, but mostly she wasn’t payin’ much attention, with her ears ‘n’ eyes focused on the wailin’ on stage.

‘N’ that was when I saw it.

The biggest, greasiest, most beautiful chicken leg bone I had ever laid eyes on, just nestled in the Hardesty Park grass. It still had many many strings o’ meat attached, ‘n’ a fine coatin’ of drive-through barbecue sauce. Yum!

I glanced sideways at Mom. She was watchin’ the drummer ‘n’ tappin’ her foot.

Louie lickin' his chops.

Louie lickin’ his chops.

My lightnin’-speed brain calculated the distance to the chicken bone ‘n’ Mom’s average response time before imbibin’ red juice ‘n’ it was gonna be close. But geez, Pops, I had to go for it. Wouldn’t you?

So I lunged.

‘N’ I woulda swallowed the whole luscious thing before Mom had a clue, ‘cept my powerful jaws cracked a bone or two ‘n’ Mom instantly looked down at me in horror ‘n’ shrieked “LOUIE!!!!! NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!”

Well, I must say her screams was most embarrassin’, ‘cuz they prompted several members of the audience to glare at Mom ‘n’ tell her to shush up.

But Mom kept yellin’ “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” ‘n’ yankin’ on my bling.

‘N’ that’s what done me in, Pops. I could neither swallow NOR breathe. As my pea-brain slowly starved for oxygen ‘n’ my adventurous life flashed before my eyes, I finally had no choice but to drop the chicken leg outta my mouth so’s I could suck in great gulps of air.

Mom took advantage of my prostration to pick up the bones ‘n’ dump ’em in the garbage.

“Aw, Mom,” I whined when I got my breath back.

“How many times I gotta tell you?” Mom lectured as she carried me back to Mr. Rav for a revivin’ bowlful of water. “No chicken bones! They can splinter in your gut ‘n’ pierce your insides ’til you bleed to death, ‘n’ then Mom ‘n’ Pops would be left all alone ‘n’ we would be most miserable.”

“But they taste so good,” I whimpered into her shoulder.

“I got somethin’ even better for dinner,” Mom sniffed, “if you don’t tell Pops.”

I raised my head in hopefulness.

“Bacon,” she whispered into my ear. “Lots ‘n’ lots of BACON!”

Aw, geez, Pops, she takes away my chicken bone, but she gives me a plate full o’ bacon.

You gotta just love that woman.

Yours (burp),

Louie

Pops replies:

Oh, Louie: What a spendoriforous tongue you have — and what a terrific photo. That Mom of yours is getting pretty darn handy with that camera. We’re going to have an easy time finding photos for the 2014 calendar and a tough time choosing between so many great ones.

As for that plate of bacom … hmm, from the doghouse to the penthouse, huh Lou? From a night with the Twisted Sisters to a snout-full of baaaaaacoooooooon!! Love it.
Pops
Published in: on June 24, 2013 at 9:47 pm  Leave a Comment  

June 23, from Louie, Day 23

Dear Pops,

I have been paroled (but not before the Twisted Sisters give me a secret prison tattoo in a place even MOM won’t dare to inspect).

What with the fearsome heat wave, Mom decided that I was gonna be broasted if I stayed in the shed, ‘n’ even though my offenses was numerous ‘n’ dire, they didn’t justify turnin’ Louie into a shish-ka-boob. So she toddled out to the shed about midnight ‘n’ set me free.

I run immediately for the big bed ‘n’ didn’t budge for days ‘n’ days, not even to bark over the mornin’ paper.

Pops 'n' Louie back in the good old days.

Pops ‘n’ Louie back in the good old days.

Even though she commuted my sentence, Mom hasn’t been givin’ me any lovin’ looks today, so I been extra special careful not to tick her off. Normally, I’d say there isn’t a chance in heck that Louie could avoid makin’ Mom mad. But with the heat wiltin’ all human ‘n’ canine desires, me ‘n’ Mom has been leadin’ a pretty borin’ existence.

We took a hike on the Schumacher Trail this mornin’ before it got blisterin’ hot, but since then, it’s been nothin’ but sprints up the block to empty Louie out, then a dash back home to the air conditionin’. In between times, Mom did her usual chores ‘n’ painted around the new doors ‘n’ read through the newspaper (which had a very nice article about her new book, but I thought it coulda used a few more thrillin’ adjectives).

We was gonna walk a shady stretch of the Towpath this evenin’, but just as Mom was reachin’ for my bling, she noticed it was gettin’ awful dark awful early outside. We stuck our snouts out the door, ‘n’ sure enough, it looked like one of them scattered thunder boomers they was predictin’ was headin’ right to Canyon Trail. So we darted out for a quick double around the neighborhood, ‘n’ as bad luck would have it, by the time we got home, the clouds had blown away without droppin’ a single sprinkle.

But by then, me ‘n’ Mom was feelin’ weak from hunger, so we said to heck with walkin’. Let’s cook a pizza.

So we did. ‘N’ now I’m smearin’ pizza grease all over the keyboard ‘n’ Mom is pattin’ her tummy ‘n’ thinkin’ maybe she ought’ve saved more of the pepperonis for me. (Ya think?????)

‘N’ that’s been our day, Pops. Nothin’ too adventuresome, but then any day on parole is pretty darned good to me.

Your rehabilitated,

Louie

Pops replies:

Pops hikin' to Heiser Lake. Don't he look handsome????

Pops hikin’ to Heiser Lake. Don’t he look handsome????

Oh, Louie: I know when it’s hot ‘n’ humid you go into summer hibernation. Still, layin’ your bundle of hot fur on the foyer tiles in the air conditioning is a whole lot better than in the shed, no? Ah, thanks for the photo from better times, but, uh, well, I hate to say this, but who is that dorky looking man in our kitchen?

Pops
p.s. Here’s a photo of what Pops really looks like from his hike to Heiser Lake a couple of weeks ago.
Published in: on June 23, 2013 at 8:17 pm  Leave a Comment  

June 22, from Louie, Day 22

Dear Dad,

I am writin’ this from the confines of the shed, where Mom has sentenced me to spend the rest of my days, locked up with the twinklin’ reindeer.

‘N’ all I did was give her a compliment.

It’s not right, Dad. It’s just not right.

You see, Mother Nature walloped us this mornin’ with the first heat wave of the summer. The valley was already steamin’ when we ventured out for our mornin’ hike at Indigo Lake, ‘n’ by the time Mom drug me down the last hill to the parkin’ lot, I felt like I was bakin’ in the microwave. If there hadn’t’ve been air conditionin’ waitin’ for me, I don’t think I’d’ve had the energy to climb up into Mr. Rav.

But Mom was ever so solicitous, knowin’ how much me ‘n’ my black coat suffer in the heat. When we got home, she filled my water bowl with ice cubes ‘n’ laid out my favorite pillow in the shower so’s I could stretch out on the cool tiles, ‘n’ she didn’t force me to help with any of her chores. “You just take it easy today, Lou,” Mom said. “This weather isn’t fit for a dog.”

I was most grateful. ‘N’ I didn’t do nothin’ all day, just so’s I wouldn’t fall victim to heat prostration.

But nothin’ helped. I was still a miserable pile of hot, heavy hair.

So even though she would have much preferred to stay home ‘n’ play mahjongg, Mom made the ultimate sacrifice ‘n’ said, “Let’s go swimmin’ at Bow Wow Beach!”

I was clawin’ at the door to Mr. Rav in a shot.

But, oh gosh, Pops, the drive to Stow was ever so long, ‘n’ I was so anxious for some canine companionship that I was quiverin’ on the console ‘n’ whinin’ most piteously by the time Mr. Rav pulled into the parkin’ lot. I leapt to the ground, barely givin’ Mom time to grab my bling, ‘n’ drug her to the gate. There was only one thing that could give me relief, ‘n’ it wasn’t swimmin’.

Well, the first bitch we met was a beagle pup, ‘n’ even I know you don’t fool around with jail bait.

‘N’ the second was just too darned old. It woulda been cruel ‘n’ inhumane to mount her.

But the third was a comely red huntin’ dog, ‘n’ I just grabbed her hips ‘n’ started hump hump humpin’. (I think we’d been there about 23 seconds at that point.)

Mom let out a howl, but she was many paces behind me ‘n’ I had a really good time before Mom finally caught up ‘n’ beat me about the butt. The huntin’ dog’s owner was threatenin’ to kick me in the ribs, too, so I prudently dismounted ‘n’ Mom, who has NO sense of humor WHATSOEVER, immediately blinged me up.

“Oh, no, Mom!” I wailed. “We can’t go home already!”

“You don’t know how to behave like a gentleman,” Mom sniffed. “We’re goin’ home this instant!”

“Oh, please, Mom,” I begged. “I’ll be good, honest! Just let me go frolic in the lake! Please, please, please!”

Well, Mom looked around ‘n’ saw all the other humans had drug their dogs away. There was nothin’ but me, Mom ‘n’ the lake. So she sighed ‘n’ unleashed me. “But one more hump, Louis, ‘n’ you’re history,” she warned.

“I unnerstand, Mom,” I said most compliantly.

‘N’ we trotted off decorously around the lake.

Louie on the prowl.

Louie on the prowl.

I let the first bitch pass unmolested. She was drippin’ with lake algae.

‘N’ I let the second go, too, just so’s Mom would let her guard down.

But the third was a magnificent mutt of indeterminate origins, ‘n’  before Mom could even shout “Louie!” I was humpin’ her face.

‘N’ she was lickin’ my nether regions.

Vigorously.

Oh, baby!!!!!

‘N’ that was when Mom swooped down with my bling ‘n’ hauled me out to Mr. Rav. We had been at Bow Wow Beach 5 minutes ‘n’ 28 seconds. A record!

So all the way home, Mom was raggin’ at me about my despicable behavior ‘n’ how she had just spent a whole hour out of the meager remainder of her life takin’ me to Bow Wow Beach, ‘n’ all the thanks she got was a view of my back end molestin’ a stranger ‘n’ she just wasn’t gonna put up with it anymore. I woulda taken it much more seriously if I hadn’t’ve wore myself out in 5 minutes ‘n’ 28 seconds, but I was whupped.

So we got home, ‘n’ Mom was still bitchin’ at me as I leapt outta Mr. Rav. “I swear to God, Louie,” she blathered, “the next thing I know, you’ll be humpin’ my leg!”

Pops, I don’t know what come over me. I cocked my head ‘n’ grinned. “You got a very nice leg, Mom,” I said, ‘n’ slobber drooled outta my mouth.

I meant it in the most respectful way. Ladies of a certain age APPRECIATE an anatomical compliment.

But Mom just grabbed me by my rainbow collar, tossed me into the shed ‘n’ threw away the key.

I may never see daylight again.

Your unjustly incarcerated,

Louie.

Published in: on June 22, 2013 at 9:16 pm  Leave a Comment  

June 21, from Louie, Day 21

Pops!

Me ‘n’ Mom went shoppin’!

‘N’ THIS time, I got to go in the store!!!!

Mom was grinnin’ as she took me on her errands this afternoon.

“Louie,” she said, “I got a special surprise for you.”

“Are we gonna chase bunnies?” I asked, pantin’ at the thought.

“Better’n chasin’ bunnies,” Mom assured me.

“Are we goin’ humpin’?” I asked, pantin’ even harder.

“Better’n humpin’,” Mom declared.

I looked at her aghast. Nothin’ is better’n humpin’.  

“Trust me, Lou,” Mom said, ‘n’ she steered Mr. Rav toward the environs of Montrose.

Well, trust is a pretty hard thing these days. Mom had blinged me up in my gay collar, ‘n’ sometimes that’s good, ‘cuz it means we’re goin’ to the dog park, but sometimes that’s bad, ‘cuz I wind up instead at the vet’s. So I was both ‘xcited ‘n’ scared as we headed west.

But instead of dumpin’ me at the dog wash, Mom turned in at a place I’d never been to before. As soon as I jumped outta Mr. Rav, I was overcome by the smells of many, many animals — dogs ‘n’ cats ‘n’ gerbils ‘n’ guinea pigs ‘n’ even a whiff of iguana.

“Mom,” I said, dizzy with so many aromas accostin’ my snout, “what IS this place?”

“It’s PetSmart,” Mom said happily. “It’s kinda like Lowe’s, only for four-legged home owners.”

“Let me in!” I barked, ‘n’ I raced Mom to the door.

Louie agog over the dog store.

Louie agog over the dog store.

Omigod, Pops, it was a dog shopper’s heaven. There was a whole AISLE of Little Buddies — ‘n’ BIG Buddies, too. I coulda stayed there all afternoon just tryin’ ’em out. (I was particularly fond of a little purple number, which Mom stubbornly refused to buy, but I hope she doesn’t forget SOMEBODY’S birthday is comin’ up soon.)

‘N’ there was stacks ‘n’ stacks of beds just for DOGS!!!!!!

“Hold on, big fella,” Mom said before I could leap onto the pillows for a snooze, “you already got the big bed.”

“Which Dad’ll kick me out of as soon as he gets home.”

“Good point,” Mom said — but she still wouldn’t buy me a bed.

There was one aisle that smelled really REALLY bad ‘n’ I didn’t need Mom to tell me what was down there — shampoos! So I galloped her past them shelves before she could get any funny ideas.

‘N’ skidded to a halt in absolutely the best place in the whole wide world.

Pops, there was cans ‘n’ bags ‘n’ cartons of DOG FOOD stretchin’ away as far as the eye could see. I never knew there was so much dog food in the universe! ‘N’ there before my wondrous eyes was SHELVES of Chef Cesar for 68 CENTS A CAN!!!!!!!!

Well, me ‘n’ Mom loaded up a shoppin’ cart until it was over-brimmin’, ‘n’ then Mom said “Mush!” ‘n’ I hauled it all to the checkout counter. (The clerk was very nice ‘n’ didn’t even mind that I had slobbered over half the cans.) ‘N’ best of all, the price was so good, Mom had enough left over to buy me some biscuits.

Gosh, Pops, I never knew shoppin’ was so much fun! I can’t wait to go to bed so’s we can get up in the mornin’ ‘n’ go again!

Your mad shopper,

Louie

Pops replies:

Oh Louie, I cannot stop laughing. I am agog with laughter. I would not be surprised if you could hear me laughing all the way in Ohio. That is one priceless photo of you, Lou. Mom captured your very essence. And it was just what Pops needed on a lonely Friday night.

Pops
Published in: on June 21, 2013 at 9:24 pm  Leave a Comment