Tags: Agents, Books, dogs, family, funny stories, Humor, life, publishing, Reading, Writing
AT LAST! I’m back home. The Geezer and Mrs. G got the go-ahead to move back into our house. That’s good for us all. The Chinese drywall and its destructive properties are gone! The remediation contractor did an excellent job. I’m thoroughly enjoying it. My humans … not so much.
The problem is one of those human stupidity issues. It’s things. Lots and lots of things. Things in boxes, bags, suitcases, and just lose. Things that have to be put away. Things that, “Came out of some closet or drawer, but I have no idea where.” Things that my humans don’t remember acquiring, or storing, or using. Things. Things! THINGS! Our house looks like a children’s playroom after a pajama party.
My canine common sense tells me there’s a logical and practical solution. Throw away the stuff you don’t need. It’s amazing how little you have to possess to live. And, if humans were intelligent enough to learn from experience, this should be apparent to the Geezer and Mrs. G. They just spent the last ninety days living out of a half-dozed suitcases, a dozen boxes, and using just a few items that were in the house where they stayed. As far as I could see, they weren’t languishing in misery.
Somewhere in the very dim recesses of their Neanderthal-like minds, the thought of purging the unneeded and the unwanted flickered through the gray-matter. Just flickered. After the two agreed they probably had items they didn’t need, they devised a “system” for disposing of “stuff.” I knew the venture was sure to fail at that point. Committees and systems are the human methods of talking a lot, doing a lot, and accomplishing little. Their “system” validates my opinion.
The Geezer and Mrs. G agreed they’d review every item they were trying to put away and place it in categories. Stack one was the “we need this and use this” pile. Stack two was the “we probably should keep this item for the future.” Three was the “this is expensive to replace” category. The fourth stack was the “check to see if you think we can get rid of” pile. Number five was the “we probably should toss this” stack. The last accumulation area was designated as “trash.” Three classifications would have been sufficient, but even that would tax meager human intelligence quotients.
The out-come – so predictable. Items moved from pile to pile. They’re still doing that. The Geezer saved the left-handed sky hook from the “we probably should toss this” stack, and moved it to the “this is expensive to replace” category. Mrs. G removed the purple, orange, and green Wigwam-lamp from the “trash” elevating it to the “we probably should keep this item for the future” area. Guess what ended up as the area with the smallest accumulation? Trash.
We canines once again prove how superior we are. Human’s should give up on things like TV. They scream at it and complain that it’s not any good. Why keep it? The things they store on shelves, like knick knacks, they look at when they buy and never again as far as I can see. If they need something, they generally go buy it because they have no idea where they’ve stored it. And clothes … what a waste! Put them on … take them off. I realize the frailty of the human body requires protection from the cold, and in some cases to protect human and canine eyes from a disgusting sight, but very few coverings would suffice.
My things consist of my dish, my pillow-bed, my collar, my brush, and my leash. The last three are for my humans more than me. I’m free to enjoy life. Humans are weighted down by things. Oh well … you can lead a human to water, but you can’t make him drink.
* * * * *
Tags: animal tales, Books, dogs, Entertainment, family, Florida, funny stories, Humor, life, Rabbit, Reading, Writing
In my last blog I mentioned how living out of my home while its being re-mediated has allowed me to meet new friends like “Gofo” the horny old Gopher tortoise. I thought I’d introduce you to two more new acquaintances. You’ll meet “Shudder” this time.
Shudder is Tina the tiny rabbit. I’ve nick-named her Shudder because when she first met me she shook and shuddered when I got close. Tina lives in a huge asparagus fern in the front yard where we’re staying. The first time I saw her, she was hiding from the Geezer who’d walked around the house one way while I went around the other. Shudder was less than half the size of other rabbits I’d seen. She had to be very young, not much more than a baby. I walked up behind her and got within two feet before she realized I was there.
I said, “Hi, I’m Sandy. I’m a Golden Retriever. I want to be your friend.”
Shudder earned her nick-name right then. She vibrated like a banjo string, her ears stuck out at odd angles, her eyes were wide and her nose and tail twitched. She said in a terrified voice, “You’re not a Golden Whatever, you’re a dog! I know about your kind. Go away or I’ll hurt you!” Tina covered her eyes with one tiny paw and pitifully swung the other in my direction.”
“A Golden Retriever is a dog. It’s just the type dog I am. I’m not a rabbit dog … I’m a duck dog. You don’t have anything to worry about. Let’s play.” Each time she’d head for the fern I’d get between her and her home. I call the game block the other animal unless I play it with humans. Then I call the game block the dumb butts. Finally, Shudder tired of the game. She froze, put her paws up in a prayerful manner, and implored, “Make it quick, please!”
“Make what quick?” I asked.
“Aren’t you going to eat me?” She asked.
“No. I don’t eat my friends! Where did you get such an idea?” I laid down in the grass and rolled to let her know I wasn’t going to harm her.
“My momma told me dogs eat rabbits, cats too. She told me not to trust anyone.”
I reflected on that for a couple minutes, before saying. “Generally speaking, she’s correct. But, hey, I’m Sandy, the most unaggressive, but protective dog in the universe. If I’m around, I’ll keep you safe. But if I’m not, you better hide if you see some other animal. Besides dogs and cats, snakes, racoons, eagles, owls, hawks, all would make you lunch. You’d better hide if I’m not here. By the way, where is your mom?”
Tina began to cry, “She left one morning and never came back.” I consoled Tina and promised to look out for her. I hope she grows fast enough to be safe on her own. Anyway, we play every morning when I go out for my constitutional. I sure do love little kids.
Tags: animal tales, Books, dogs, family, Florida, funny stories, Humor, life, nature, Reading, Writing
In my last post I told you about the Chinese drywall problem that has caused the Geezer, Mrs. G and me to temporarily leave our house. Of course, Oreo came too. Oreo is my feline friend. Or as he might be called if he were of native American heritage … “He who has smelly pot.” He and it stay on the screened porch.
Being jerked out of the only home you’ve ever known is an unsettling experience. The only place I can remember living is at the Geezer’s place on the canal. My humans made me queen of the realm when I was eight weeks old and I don’t remember much prior, other than snuggling up to my mom. There, everything is where it should be, smells right, and I know the best places to hide, sleep, and aggravate the Geezer and Mrs. G. The place I’m in now has things like sliding glass doors which always seem to be closed when they should be open. Ouch!
I’ve made friends with most everybody around our home. The humans call me the “neighborhood greeter.” I miss all my friends in the Canine Chowder and Ham Bone Marching Society, Matilda the manatee, the night heron families that nest across the canal in the mangroves, Pete, Pedro, Pauline, and Petulla the pelicans, and a bunch more. Hell, I even miss Hiss and Sneaky B the black snakes. I’m sure they’ll all be there when I return, but…..
There is one good thing about being in a different place. It gives you the opportunity to make new buds. Take one fellow I met last week. The home we’re living in has a canal in the back yard just like ours. The Geezer and I were sitting near the seawall, boat-lift, and dock. The Geezer had dozed off and I was sleepy myself when I heard this old baritone voice saying, “Gofo it, gofo it, gofo it, gofo it.” It was coming from a large Gopher turtle that was waddling down the seawall. He looked and was old. I said, “Hi.” The old turtle nodded and kept repeating, “Gofo it.” He trudged down the seawall, out on the dock to the tip end, looked around some, and retreated. It was obvious he was trying to get across the canal.
I was curious, so I had to ask. “Say old timer, you trying to get to the other side of the canal”
He answered, “Un-huh. Gofo it. Gofo it. Gofo it.”
“You’re gonna have to go all the way to the end and walk around.”
He nodded continuing to walk and talk.
“What’s with the … Gofo it? You stuttering or trying to remember something?”
“Remember. Gofo it.” He resumed his ritual.
“What are you trying to remember?” I asked.
He said, “Youngster, when you get older you have to stay focus to remember. About 35 years ago, them damn humans built this canal. My girl friend lives on the other side. That makes for a long walk to visit. So, to keep focused, I keep tellin’ myself … Gofo it!”
Tags: Agents, Books, dogs, family, Humor, life, publishing, Reading, Reviews, Writing
It seems like forever since I’ve had my paws on the computer keyboard. You probably have already guessed the Geezer has been away and that precludes my access to “our” internet accounts. Before he left he said, “Oh, I won’t be gone long. I’ll be back so quick you won’t even think about it.” Of course, I knew those remarks were placating, not truthful. In Doganese we classify that kind of speech under the category called, “Humanaucity Bullus Shittus.”
My buddy Oreo, eaves dropped as the Geezer and I discussed his prolonged absence. When I asked him what took him so long to get back, about the only excuse he didn’t use was that I’d eaten his homework. Oreo’s feline tail twitched. There were weather problems…rain, snow, hail, tornadoes, volcano eruptions, asteroid showers…and whether problems…he didn’t know whether to go to this or that event, or take this or that road, or stay at this or that hotel. The cat rolled his eyes in disbelief. The Geezer claimed he forgot several things and had to retrace his steps and repeat tasks. I can believe that; he’d forget his ass if it weren’t so big and firmly attached. My black and white friend rolled on his back, his belly heaving with repressed laughter.
After a series of apologies that fall under a similar Doganese sub-category “Humanaucity Bullus Insincereioso Shittus” Oreo and I were left alone to ponder whether the Geezer really believed we were that stupid. Oreo looked skyward and purred, “If you’re going to lie you should at least try to be good at it.”
I was steamed. I love the Geezer, but it infuriates me when he won’t just come out with the plain unvarnished truth. “Damn it Oreo, I wish he’d just say… sorry. I screwed up…and let it go at that.”
“That’s just the human way.” Oreo stretched his front legs out in front of him, pushing his rear high in the air at the same time. He looked out the window. “Look, Sandy, the Night Herons are back building nests again this year.” Oreo licked his chops, a feline reflex for he’d abandoned any form of hunting for a cushy inside-the-house life.
“Humans don’t seem to bother you much,” I said.
“The Geezer doesn’t.” Oreo got a sly grin on his face. The cat had seen some rough younger years before he came to live with us. “You have to rub a lot of legs before you find your prince.” He looked very wise and provided some sage advice. “Sandy, when you’re warm, well taken care of and fed regularly…bark less and wag more. You may quote me.”
visit the Geezer at
Tags: Books, Christmas, dogs, family, holidays, Humor, life, publishing, Reading, Writing
It’s getting close to the time old Santa will hitch the reindeer to the sleigh, pack his sack with goodies and leave the North Pole for places south. I’ve been busy helping the Geezer with his book signings, decorate for the season and finding presents for his family and friends. My blogging hasn’t been as frequent as I would like, but I promise I’ll do much better after the first of the year.
Speaking of presents, a lot of you have asked me…to ask him…if he would post his short story, “Claus and the Consultant,” so many of you enjoyed three years ago. It was a Christmas present to all his friends, family and readers. It’s hilarious. It’s back. Go to his blog at http://www.dlhavlin.wordpress.com or his web site at http://www.dlhavlin.com to read and laugh!
The Geezer and I have been doing so many things, I thought I’d post some of the pictures and captions of the events here and talk about them later. Though I’m sure I’ll write between now and then — MERRY CHRISTMAS — Just in case!
Tags: Books, dogs, family, holidays, Humor, Reading, Thanksgiving, Writing
Last year was my first holiday season with Mr. & Mrs. Gator. I was so busy experiencing the major events I missed the little things that help make days like Thanksgiving memorable. I decided to keep a log chronicling what my humans do to make a holiday special so I could share it with you.
4:23 AM – Ouch. Mrs. Gator stepped out of bed and mashed my tail on her way to remove the turkey from the frige. I whined and made a terrible fuss which woke up the Geezer. It made Mrs. G feel guilty. She got me a hot dog and even warmed it in the microwave.
4:37 AM – As Mrs. G bent over to place the turkey in the oven, something scratched on the porch door. She screamed and slammed the oven shut as I raced to investigate. I growled and barked as menacingly as I’m capable. When I looked out the glass, a fellow who wore a black mask, a brown fur coat, and sported a stripped black and brown tail, stared back at me. He stood on his hind legs, but didn’t appear threatening. The Geezer wobbled out to investigate. Now that’s scary!! He sleeps in the nude, is overweight, and is in his mid-60s. His body would be a good prop to use in a remake of Halloween or Scream. He quickly grasped the situation and a broom. Old Geezer burst onto the porch with heroic intent. His loud shout, while brandishing the straw stick, sent the raccoon scurrying from the porch…and illuminated the neighbor’s lights. The Geezer retreated.
4:45 AM – More screams, this time from the bathroom. The Geezer walked in on our house guest, a lady friend of Mrs. G’s. My analysis of the Geezer’s body”s horrifying nature must be right on, judging from the blood curdling nature of her utterance. All wandered back to their rooms after apologies.
6:44 AM – The Geezer rolled out of bed for his morning ritual. That’s making a cup of coffee for Mrs. G, putting a scoop of Cool Whip in it, and serving it to his wife while she’s still in the sack. Since he was awake and mobile, I went to the door and called out, “Geezer, I’ve got a case of bladder burst.” He sauntered over, barefoot, dressed in his underwear, and asked, “Is it urgent?” I nodded. Geezer snapped on my leash, opened the door, and stepped onto the porch, while I pulled toward the stairs, grass, and relief. When he got half-way down the steps, the stream of curse words floating from his lips made it plain…he wasn’t giving thanks for coon poop today.
7:20 AM – No bacon and eggs this morning! Mrs. G never even made it to the stove. Damn! Cereal doesn’t do anything for my taste-buds. The Geezer asked Mrs. G at what time dinner was scheduled. Good News! I found I wouldn’t have a long wait; the scraps should be finding their way off the table by 12:30.
7:51 AM – The Geezer remarked how good the new oven’s seal was. Mrs. G’s house-guest went to look at the new stove and said, “Oh shit!” She asked Mrs G to come over. Mrs G said, “Oh shit! Geezer, I forgot to turn on the oven.” The Geezer said, “Oh shit, that means we’ll be eating during the football games. How long will it delay the meal?” Mrs. G said, “Two Hours.” I said, “Oh shit!” Two hours longer to wait before the goodies start to fall.
11:18 AM – Guests began to arrive. A lady named Madeline stepped in the remaining coon poop. Mrs. G made an emergency mop stop.
11:22 AM – Madeline placed her “green bean casserole” on the kitchen bar.
11:25 AM – Our 2nd guest, Susan, arrived and placed her “green bean casserole” on the kitchen bar. Mrs. G looked concerned.
11:30 AM – Patti, the 3rd lady guest arrived with…her “green bean casserole.” Mrs. G is alarmed and hit the panic button. “Geezer did you send out the right side-dish emails to all our guests?” The Geezer answered, “Sure I did!”
11:31 AM – Babs arrived with…her “green bean casserole.” The Geezer checked his computer as suggested by Mrs. Gator. His face turned very red.
11:35 AM – The Geezer left for an emergency trip to the grocery. Mrs G announced dinner will be delayed another hour. Hunger pangs forced me to improvise. Dirty socks just aren’t a substitute for turkey.
12:42 PM – The Geezer returned carrying the feast prepared by the supermarket deli. His arms were fully loaded with packages and when I gave him a welcoming nudge a pumpkin pie dislodged, did a triple somersault with a half twist, and landed on Susan’s white, dress-covered, lap. The words offered weren’t in keeping with the day’s theme- being thankful.
2:10 PM – Mrs. G announced the meal was ready. The guests lined up at the serving table and piled on the chow, including samples from each of the 6 green bean casseroles.
2:12 PM – I never realized that I lived in a sexually bigoted family until today. The women ate at the segregated dinner table and forced the men to eat in front of the TV. I never guessed Mrs. G was capable of that.
2:42 PM – It was worth the wait. Tidbits rained down on me like insults aimed at the opposition during a political rally. Then, Mrs. Gator provided me with a large plate filled with assorted leftovers. And to think, I never believed in heaven. The humans watching me devour the goodies bet that I would explode, but of course I didn’t. After the feast, I found a spot under the dining room table, curled up, and went to sleep.
4:52 PM – I woke up during a battlefield nightmare so authentic, the corpses looked and smelled real. When I opened my eyes the visions departed, but the smell lingered on. It took a few moments to realize that the mass sampling of green bean casseroles had a side effect. I went back to sleep to avoid nostril distress.
6:55 PM – I finally became alert again. During my nap all the guests had left except one couple, Patti and John. They were very restless, both taking turns rushing to the toilet. They called for Susan’s husband, but it was obvious he’d left. Still they gurgled through the restroom door, “Ralph, Ralph, Ralph.” Log note: Ask Geezer why it’s not wise to mix red wine and vodka. During their absence the Geezer and Mrs. G. had a whispered conversation about not inviting the head of the local Republican Party to the same event that the president of Professors for Obama attends. I suddenly understood what had influenced my earlier sleep and its warfare nightmare.
8:00 PM – Mrs G. completed cleaning the kitchen, dining room, and living room. The Geezer was so tired from watching her work he slumped into his recliner and snored, his noises being akin to those I’ve heard come from a pig sty. He evidently was so tired Mrs. Gator had to take me for my goodnight walk.
After reviewing my log, I can see why humans treasure the holidays so much! It provides so many unique ways to screw up. I’m anxious to see what interesting things they’ll do to celebrate Christmas. Anyway, that’s the way Time and Thanksgiving went by at our house.