Tags: Books, dogs, family, Humor, life, publishing, Reading, Writing
My human, The Geezer, often tells me how important it is to share our knowledge with others. As a respected member of DOGSA, I’ve decided to impart canine wisdom to my human readers in the hope of advancing that backward species. I will quote the great canine philosopher Dogfucius from time to time.
Dogfucius says – “Human men never complain about rain or snow at a football game, but cannot tolerate a light dew when cutting grass.
Dogfucius says – “Human women have great memory for everything that has been done to offend them, but can’t remember their weight, their age, or the last time they got a traffic ticket.
Dogfucius says – “”It is no coincidence the human spelling for big-shot and big-shit is almost the same.”
Dogfucius has spoken.
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Tags: birding, Birds, Books, dogs, family, Florida, life, nature, publishing, Reading, Writing
It’s that time of year in Southwest Florida. Our nesting season has started. All five nests across the canal have been reoccupied by our expanding family of night herons. We’re interested to see if we have an additional nest of offspring who return to the mangroves where they were born. We’ve increased our rookery by one nest the past three seasons. Two pair of green herons are sprucing up their lodges interspersed in the same mangroves. We have two pair of Osprey that are building nests that are also visible from our porch. The strong winds over last few days severely damaged one nest, but mom and dad Osprey have reconstruction on full-tilt. I’ll snap some pics for you as things develop.
For all you shivering in cold climates, there is hope. Our high today is supposed to be 78F and it’s on its way toward you. Well, it may take a while…….
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Tags: Books, dogs, family, Humor, life, Media, News, publishing, Reading, Writing
The Internet and TV are alive with a controversy. Is being a puppy a crime? Does it matter where you come from? It seems that featuring a puppy in a Go-Daddy commercial that doesn’t strictly conform to a portion of the public’s belief system, is causing all kinds of consternation. I can identify with the star of the commercial; I looked a lot like ‘em when I was that age. See my picture above? The poor pup’s debut in the Super Bowl ad is cancelled!
The last ten seconds of the ad were … ah … let’s not call it stupid, but I can’t find a better synonym right now. Who is the advertising agency appealing to, the Marquis De Sade? Those humans on Madison Avenue are supposed to be geniuses. Right? I guess if your hat size and IQ are within a few points they qualify.
With that said, how can a commercial get some folks’ panties wadded up so tight? (Glad I’m canine and don’t wear them.) I came from a breeder. They’re not all evil like the tone of much of the doggie poop I see on the I-net would have you believe. My breeder slept on the floor with my brothers, sisters, and mommy to get us used to living with humans, insisted on interviewing prospective families, and helped match our traits to the house we’d soon call our own.
Think of the poor puppy in the commercial. A career that could rival Lassie’s or Rin Tin Tin’s has been sidelined. The dangers that puppy faced: trains, no planes, but automobiles. Neither rain or sore paws could dampen her or his acting effort. Leave it to snarky narrow-viewed humans to louse things up. Oh well, you expect it from the species.
Tags: Books, dogs, family, Humor, life, Politics, publishing, Reading, relationships, Writing
One of the greatest things about being a dog is that we don’t care about color. No, we’re not color blind. We just don’t have the weakness that humans suffer from … over reaction to the shade that something exhibits. They get very emotional about the whole thing.
Take red for example. They give it all sorts of traits it doesn’t have. Humans equate it with stop. Why? Something green like a cactus might mean you want to stop before touching. Red’s the color humans have assigned to be associated with sex. Think about it: Red dress, Red-light district … When a lady changes the color of her night gown from pink to red it isn’t because she’s dreaming of eating chicken soup for lunch.
This is one of those things I could get preachy over so I’ll cut to the most important difference I see between humans and canines AND one of those things that make us so superior to humans.
Like canines, humans come in all sorts of colors and shades. The crazy part is that humans react emotionally to those colors without any logic to what they say and do. Certain colors mean certain things to them and they refuse to look at the members of their own species objectively. Other dogs don’t look at me as a friend or enemy because of my golden coat. White dogs don’t look at black dogs and make a negative value judgment. And the reverse of that is true. What counts in canine relations is how that individual treats us. We don’t want to be denied OR given credit for what we do because we are a different shade than the canine next store. It’s what we do not the way we look that’s important to the way we dogs interact.
To bad humans are slow learners – they could improve themselves if they just watch us more carefully.
Tags: Books, Christmas, dogs, family, funny stories, holidays, Humor, life, publishing, Reading, Writing
All right – I hear you. I convinced the Geezer to leave his story, Claus and the Consultant posted on his blog page for two more days. If you haven’t read it yet, try it, you’ll like it. Visit him at http://www.dlhavlin.wordpress.com It takes about ten minutes to read, but you’ll find it ten of the best minutes you’ve spent this week.
Tags: animal tales, Books, Christmas, dogs, family, funny stories, Humor, life, publishing, Reading, Writing
The Geezer and I have a present for you and your friends. It’s a package of laughs in the form of a blog post named “Claus and the Consultant.” Learn what happens when Santa seeks help from an efficiency expert. Visit my human’s blog to read it —- http://www.dlhavlin.wordpress.com —- and enjoy. (There’s a link on this page) Spread the joy to friends and associates.
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.
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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.”
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