Blue Damn Effer

Let me just get something straight here. I don't like that picture either! It is sort of a train wreck if you will. I don't want to look at it. It is disturbing on so many levels, but I can't NOT look at it. Then I just shudder. I am not losing my mind, and I don't need doggie dementia meds yet! But I respect your opinion, my loyal reader, and not to worry, I am not losing my hard edge.

I was just outside, and it is damn cold and foggy. So foggy that I had a hard time with my Orange Effer Radar, but I know he is lurking out there. He has ice running through his veins, so icy is his blood that the cold does not effect him in the least! That is why his fur is a warm color, like Orange, and I bet it is the only thing that keeps that effer alive. Otherwise, he would be the Blue Damn Effer!

Julie saw him darting around the park amongst the children. I don't know, I think those kids were safer when those pitbulls were running around wild and free. I have seen Orange Effers fangs. They are nasty.

I am glad Thanksgiving is over. Those delicious smells that tempt me, and I cannot partake in, damn near do me in. It is getting harder and harder, and Brad and Julie are all, "No Howard, you are too fat already!"

Orange Effer probably gets in my garbage cans and gets to feast off of all the deliciousness that I cannot have. Why that thought gives me indigestion!!!

I'm Back!

You can better believe that this fluffy effer did not kiss me, because she would not have liked my smooch!!!

I am still alive. Brad likes to hijack my website with guest posts for a buck. I don't believe in it, but I am just a dog. I think it is tacky, and Julie agrees with me. Sometimes we just humor him. Brad is pretty good about getting my walks in, so I will allow an occasional indiscretion. As long as some of that money goes toward buying more treats for me...

Orange Effer is still flaunting his evil ways. He comes by these days around 5 a.m. I don't understand why he chooses such a terrible hour, but then again it does not surprise me. I still bark like the devil is at the door, because, well, his representative here on earth is.

I am falling a lot these days, and it is really hard for me to get up, especially when I am on the tile. My hearing is diminshed, but my sense of sight and smell is going strong. Getting old isn't easy, but I'm still enjoying life enough to give the neighborhood effers hell! And the occasional delivery man. Heh heh!

My Artisic Sister

My Artistic Sister

Guest post written by my buddy Aldo Mays

My sister recently decided to open an art gallery in downtown Atlanta. She’s been a “starving artist” since she graduated from college and my parents were less than thrilled when she told them the profession she chose after studying social work for five years at UGA. It took her four years to channel her talent onto the canvas, and I have to admit, she is very talented. She decided to open the gallery after a friend of hers in real estate found her a great deal on a beautiful brick building. She spent months prepping the building and even had an alarm system installed for a decent price that she found on ALLHOMEsecurity.com. She had beautiful lighting and hardwood floors installed, and she’ll be displaying her canvases as well as some pottery made by another local artist. Her opening night for the gallery is on Friday, and our entire family will be there to support her. It took my parents a few years to admit it, but they couldn’t be prouder of my sister’s success.

Rabbits

Way back when I was a puppy I would chase the rabbits during my walks in the desert. During one of my walks a guy walks up to Brad and asks does your dog not like rabbits? Brad told him he just likes to chase them, after all he is a dog. The guy mentioned he had some pet rabbits and needed to know where he could find rabbit hutches for sale. Brad told him he had no idea but he knows where to get heavy duty dog crates. I looked at Brad with the look you better not be putting me into a dog crate. I put up with quite a bit but not a dog crate.
I even once was out with Brad while he was using a sprayer for Round Up and I licked some of it off the grass it had a weird taste and I never did that again.
I still eat grass but not right after he has sprayed Round Up

PITA?

I have been a bad dog blogger. I don't know what is wrong with me. Perhaps my obssession with The Orange One's manuevers? No one can make me as mad as Orange Effer does! No one. He came by my sliding glass door, stopped, and lingered for a moment, and made eye contact with me before darting off. He is a brazen fool!

I am up to Stage 3 on the glucosamine joint tablets. I feel like they are helping me, but WHO makes cherry flavored anything for dogs? They taste like, ugh, I cannot stand them. Brad makes me eat them. Next bottle, he promises will be something more palatable, like liver, cow ass, or chicken lips, anything but cherry. Blech!

This morning, Julie said I was a PITA. Perfect, intelligent, talented, animal? Why thank you! Heh heh. Actually, I think she meant, well, I'll let you figure it out. She was up early for work, got called off, so she stayed up. I took advantage of the opportunity. I wanted outside. I barked like I saw satan in the backyard. I wanted inside. I barked at her for a treat. Then I wanted my water bowl refreshed, so I panted like I had just run a marathon, next I needed food. Let me outside again! I needed to poop. Barked for a treat when I was back inside. She ignored me. She got her toast and coffee and sat down. Well, I needed to poop again, so let me out! Barked at her for a treat, and, again, I was ignored and told to go lie down. When Julie tells me to do that, she has had enough!

At least I know my boundaries. Unlike certain orange felines around here.

Bow Chica Wow Wow!

There is an old man who walks the park numerous times a day. He wears a plaid cotton fedora, and looks like a cool cat. He was probably a surfer dude back in the day, hittin' the waves at Rincon, driving a woody, and dating a girl with a bushy bushy blonde hairdo.

How he ended up in the godforsaken central valley is completely beyond my imagination. Maybe he had a run-in with a shark? That is the only logical explanation. Nevertheless, he walks three different dogs around the park, one at a time, rain or shine, without fail. He walks each dog at least once...sometimes more. They are all red retrievers. There is one hot babe that he walks who carries a toy newspaper in her mouth the entire route. Bow chica wow wow!! I like her.

So when Brad tries to get out of our evening walks, I just give him "THE LOOK." The look that says, "Red dogs owner walks HIS 3 dogs TWO times a day and all I ask for is ONE time a day so get up off of that couch and take me for a walk before I make your life a living hell!"

Oh, and I will too. I will bark and pitch a fit, pant, scratch, turn in circles, scratch, pant, bark, bark, bark, and bark. I have my ways of getting my point across, and Brad knows it! He does.

Bawk, Bawk Black Effer

Brad has been running interference for me, and I am not so sure I appreciate it. Does he think I cannot handle effers on my own anymore? I can. I like to know who is sneaking around my house! How can I be effective otherwise? Brad just doesn't get it. Just because I have bad hips, doesn't mean I can't hop around like a prize fighter for 2.8 seconds! Wat, wat!! You wanna piece of 'dis effers??

Black and White Effer has been showing up more often than the Orange One. Makes me wonder, what is Orange Effer planning? Black and White Effer will sense my presence, or perhaps my vicious barking, and will freeze, stare like the slack-jaw he is, and then dart off, probably to tell Orange Effer what happened. Chicken...bawk, bawk! I always wait to see if he will run through the thorny rose bush, because that would make my day.