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Right foot … Left foot … (Humans require detailed instruction)

 

Here I am instructing the Geezer - "Right foot ... left foot ..."

Here I am instructing the Geezer – “Right foot … left foot …”

This is a slightly dated photo, but it demonstrates canine dedication to our humans and the unbelievable patience it takes to work with an inferior mental species. I’ve brought him along quickly. Since this pic, he has abandoned the walker and only uses a cane to ward off folks that might bump into him.

Note the weights on his ankles. This is his idea, not mine. I told him, “Geezer, you don’t need those – you have plenty of weight in that big ass of yours.” He whined about getting extra strength in his leg muscles. I don’t know why he needs them stronger. If he could put a weight on his jaw it would make sense because he uses that most frequently. (Observe gut) Maybe its just the masochistic side that humans all have. It wasn’t worth the hassle of arguing with him so I let him do it.

Anyway, thanks to my superb coaching and conditioning talents he is officially released from physical therapy. Onward and upward, Geezer!

 

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Dogfucius says …….

 

I long for the days I was too young to understand what's on TV.

Ever since my earliest days my wisdom has been unchallenged. I won’t eat dill pickles!

 

I have pondered some important questions and have decided to enlighten you humans with helpful illuminations —-

Dogfucius says the human mouth is a poor design. There is no filter on it to catch the bad things that come from it: vomit and lies.

Dogfucius says one must remember the adage “Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.” You humans must modernize it to “Beware of politicians offering free stuff.”

Dogfucius says remember that those humans who profess to have good intentions have a poor record in producing good results.

Dogfucius says Pavlov proved canines are smarter than humans. He showed that dogs learn to avoid bad things and respond to good things rather quickly. Human’s aren’t smart enough to understand “He who chooses to ignore history is cursed to live it again.” Want proof? Read about the 1930’s (happenings and individuals) and compare them to today’s events.

 

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Good news … bad news …

 

The Geezer (aka - DL Havlin) at the Charlotte Cultural Center with Dan his number one fan. He has every book the Geezer has published.

The Geezer (aka – DL Havlin) at the Charlotte Cultural Center with Dan his number one fan. Dan has every book the Geezer has written that’s been published.

The Geezer had bad and good news this week. The bad news first. Attending local signings, shows, and events are one of the things the Geezer really enjoys. The annual shows held in the Port Charlotte Cultural Center are among his favorites. The bad news? He’ll not be able to attend in person this year. The doctor says his going so soon after his surgery is pushing a little too fast. (Even though the old boy is doing great and his recovery is well ahead of schedule.) Mrs. G will be attending in his place so he’ll be maintaining his commitment to the event. He’s big on keeping his word.

Now for good news! The old boy is a finalist in the flash fiction category of this years Florida Writers Association’s Royal Palm Literary Awards. His entry is his short story, There Are No Lights In Naples. Let’s all wish the old boy good luck.

 

Notification badge for the Geezer's work being a semi-finalist.

Notification badge for the Geezer’s work being a semi-finalist.

 

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How do you like it?

 

Sorry Trooper

My buddy Trooper says he loves it! I hope you do too!

Notice anything different? After many posts and years, I started this blog in June of 2008, I’ve given it a face lift. Well … kind of … Mrs. G gave me a major assist. She says the heading is more in keeping with my temperament, gender, and … well it’s just me.

What do you think?

 

My new job as Physical Therapist … give me a whip!

 

Leading the Geezer - "Only two more miles."

Leading the Geezer – “Only two more miles.”

 

I’m added another title to my many accolades – Physical Therapist. The Geezer’s recent hip replacement has him shuffling along and I’ve decided to take a personal hand in getting the old boy up and operating at full speed! What ever that is for him. Here we’re walking in the morning Florida sun.

I’ve found training him presents its challenges. The use of a dish of ice cream as a treat reward overcomes all obstacles, however. This is another example of how we canines are human’s best friends.

 

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Happy Fourth on the Fifth. …

GEDSC DIGITAL CAMERA

Sorry I’m late — Happy Fourth on the Fifth.

 

Happy birthday to all US citizens. That’s for people that really love this 240 year old country. I HOPE WE WILL BE ABLE TO ALL CELEBRATE 250 YEARS. Unless there is real change in the leadership, I don’t think we’ll see it. This is one time I don’t want to see something go to the dogs.

Happy Fourth of July to my human friends in the US.

Happy Fourth of July to my human friends in the US.

 

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Pardon my fart … or … Shall we recycle one more thing?

Geezer & I share a Christmas kiss

No, your breath isn’t that bad.

 

“Sorry, Sandy.”  The Geezer Gator waved his hand in front of his nose.  “I shouldn’t eat broccoli and baked beans at the same meal.”

I was glad we were sitting on the dock and there was a gentle breeze to dissipate the hovering flatulence.  “Geezer, that was really bad.  I’m glad you don’t smoke.  Lighting a match right now would cause an explosion.  That was a real high octane release.”

“It was a sheet rotter.  I hope it doesn’t turn that beautiful golden coat of yours green,” the Geezer looked at me and grinned.  “You know, maybe you should contact that T. Boone Pickens fellow and give him an idea for another source of natural gas.”

It took a few seconds for his words to register, my mind being slowed by the cloud of methane encircling us.  “Oh, you mean the guy that used to run TV advertisements for windmills and natural gas? That’s years ago.”

“Uh-huh, that’s T. Boone Pickens.”

“You thinking of renting out your digestive system? How much broccoli and baked beans can you consume?” I jested.  “Seems you might wear out parts of yourself pretty fast.”

The Geezer laughed.  “Hey, no single sourcing.  Think about the possibilities.  There’s so much gas being released by cows alone, a TV program I saw says it’s polluting the atmosphere more than automobiles, if I remember, correctly.”

I went along with the flow, “Yep, a completely renewable source of energy.  Just collect it and burn it.  All our energy problems are about to be solved!”

“Who’d of thought that something as simple as the common fart would save mankind.”  The breeze blew the last of the “rotten eggs” smell away.

“Now all we have to do is to collect them, Geezer.”

“That’s the beautiful part of your idea, Sandy.”  The Geezer’s mind was churning.  I could hear the old rusty gears squealing and clashing as they neared full speed.  “Think about all the satellite industries and disciplines that your idea will spawn.  They may end up naming some kind of economic event after you.  I can see it now – The Sandy Cycle.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, just think of it.”  The Gator held his fingers up and tugged at one.  “We’ll need to manufacture fart collectors.  Lots of them.  Think of the jobs that will create.  And fart strainers, that’s a must.  We’ll need a fart acquisition and distribution system, one that allows us to determine the octane rating so it can be sold like gasoline is now.”  The old boy tried to keep a straight face.  “Whole industries will be born.”

“Who’s going to develop all this?”  I prompted him, though I’m sure he didn’t need it.

He tugged at his second finger.  “No problem.  A new field of science will develop, Fartology!  Our leading universities will soon be turning out fartologists that study all facets of the discipline.  They’ll study fart formation, composition, conservation, utilization, everything.  I can see Harvard and Yale bragging about their graduates like they do Bush, Obama, and Clinton.

I nodded, “That sure is true.  Probably will spike deodorizer sales.  I’ll look into buying anti-stink stock, if there’s a stock market left after the next election.”

“Speaking about elections and government, think of all the agencies it will create.”  The Geezer tugged at a third finger.  “There will be the Department of Farts and Feces.  There will be groups studying foods best suited for fart formation, the toxic effect of farts on the Amazon rain forest, and, of course, quality inspectors from FDA.  Think of the graft and corruption potential.  The politicians will love it.  We’ll find out how long a fart can stay on a treadmill. Even the IRS will get their nose into the business as they sniff around for those villainous -“fart syphoners.”

“Interesting.  Who would be appointed to run the Department of Farts?” I asked.

“Sandy, it will take highly qualified individuals to run such a branch. How about selecting candidates from the nightly news?

“Agreed!” I shouted.  “I can’t think of people that are more full of it.

 

PS- this is an old post I revised & recycled- I thought some comic relief was in order.

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