Dear Howard

Dear Howard,

I am interrupting your blog to ask you to please not get any older. I notice that this summer is starting out rougher on you than usual. You never have liked the heat, but I notice that you are slowing down more and more because of it. Don't worry, you and me will fight Brad to keep the air at a comfortable degree in the house. I've got your back boy, just like you have always had mine.

You are an old man now, and while you can be so gosh darn demanding, like most old men are, I love you more than ever. I'll never forget you as the little puppy that I picked up and brought home to keep me company in Arizona. I left you in the laundry room while I went to pick-up food and toys for you at the store, and you were so scared that you peed all over the floor while I was gone and was crying when I got back. I'm sorry boy, I should have known better, but I was young and you were one of my first responsibilities being newly married and on my own. Not long after that we settled into a routine. Brad would be gone 3 days a week, and you and I battled it out for who was in charge. You were one wild puppy, and if I failed to walk you one night you would run your race track around the living room barking your fool head off at me.

Remember Chuck, the crazy man who lived behind us and drank too much and barked at you? Thanks for making me feel safer around him. You always have been a good judge of character. I'll never forget the time at the dog park by the lake, that you would not leave this strange man alone. You would get approximately six feet away from him and bark and bark and bark. Brad would go get you, but you would head right back over there each time until we had to finally leave. It was embarrassing, but I know you knew something was off with him and I didn't doubt you for a minute.

You are so much more well-behaved now, and I love this picture of you and Aflac. You have had Aflac now for 2 years, and he is still intact because when we tell you to "be nice to the duck," you lick him. What other dog would mind so well?

You, Brad, and I are all 11 years older. We've been through a lot together, and you've always made the journey more enjoyable and entertaining. I know you've got more good years in you, but dogs don't live nearly long enough.

All my love,
Julie

Howard's Morning Routine

When Julie gets home from work after a long 12 hour shift I need things. I need to be let out, then I need an ice cube, after that I might need to be let out again, then I need a snack and ice water, after that I need to make sure my food is in my bowl, because even though I do not plan on eating my breakfast for hours, I want to know it is there. What can I say? I am an old man with bowel and bladder urgency, and I need my routine to be maintained or I simply freak out and cannot handle it. If she is home and happens to sleep past 8:30 in the morning, I just will not have it. I need stuff to start happening by 8:30 a.m. max.

Somebody please get me a prescription for Xanax!

Who Wouldn't Want to be Me????

One of Julie's co-workers paid me the ultimate compliment the other day. She said, and I quote, "I want to be Howard."

I ask you, who would NOT want to be me?

A short list of my best qualities:
1. Handsome.
2. Shiny coated magnificent bastard...according to my anonymous fan.
3. I get respect.
4. I've slimmed down a little thanks to my new diet that I am going to write a book on and sell it on the internets like Richard Simmons, only less gay and way better looking.
5. I can smell the hind end of a cow from more than a mile away. Can you?
6. I wake Brad and Julie up every morning so that I can start my naps, and they fall for it every time.
7. I like to lay out in the scorching hot sun, and then run in the air-conditioned house to cool off.
8. I am an awesome swimmer. When I was little I could get a running head-start and jump from the ground into the above ground pool that we used to have.
9. I get brushed and walked almost daily, and if I don't somebody pays. BIG TIME. His name rhymes with sad, dad, bad, glad, you get the picture.
10. I get my food bought, paid for, and served to me. I am served fresh water two to three times daily, and Brad fluffs my dog bed as needed.

I live like a KING!

I'll Be Back!

I'll be back Mr. Anonymous Commenter. My typist happens to be working a lot of 12 hour shifts in a row, and she is one tired bear and I DO NOT want to disturb her. She might bite MY hot dog off, and I cannot afford that.

The Faces of Evil

Usually I am locked in the bedroom with Brad and Julie at night. Apparently those two jack balls have the impression that I will bark my fool head off in the middle of the night and give them both heart attacks if I am allowed to roam around.

What can I say? Those kitties love to cruise my backyard in the middle of the night and THAT IS SIMPLY UNACCEPTABLE! What am I supposed to do? Quietly say, "Oh, hello neighbor cat who should not be in my backyard. Would you consider leaving before I bust through this window and bite you?" Hell. No. I have to bark like a raging beast so that those kitties run like the effers they are. So help me damn kitties are going to be the death of me! I am old and cannot take such constant stress in my life.

Well, last night Brad let me sleep out in the living room. I slept like Rip Van Winkle and did not wake up until morning when Brad came to check if I was still breathing and had a pulse. You know WHY I was able to do this? Because those bastard cats know I mean business. What now?