LET ME MAKE THIS PERFECTLY CLEAR

I am an American. I support my country. I made the mistake, once, of being critical of our troops during the Vietnam War. I was wrong. One trip to the Vietnam Memorial opened that door of realization for me. I have spent the rest of my life being perfectly clear about what my concern is. And, that is peace. I did not mean for my post yesterday to cause conflict or disdain. But, for those of you who do not understand the basic tenets of our republic, including freedom of speech, please see above.

Now on to something different. I love my dog. I have a Chesapeake Bay Retriever that someone gave me because even though her breed is that of a hunting dog, she is frightened of loud noises--gunshots, thunder, doors closing. That makes her pretty useless when it comes to retrieving those fallen trophy pheasant. Her name is Jewels. Basically, because she has no family ones. She has golden eyes, which has led to her nickname: Old Piss Eyes.

She has many wonderful qualities. As the old saying goes, I wish I could be the person my dog thinks I am. She is smart and catches on to all my ways far too quickly. Like when I pretend I am going to take her out and then shut the door behind her and she is left to her own means to entertain herself. She now stands behind me and pushes my butt with her head to force me out the door. She fancies herself a protector. Until the hand becomes available for petting, at which point you could be Charles Manson and she would patiently wait until Charlie finished his mayhem for the treat that might become available.

Her latest thing is what I am referring to as "controlled farting." If it were a class she taught, it might be called "Conrolled Farting and It's Ability to Force Your Owner into Anything." Last night I was awakened to the smell of dog poop. Not fart. Poop. I couldn't believe it. And there was Jewels right by the side of the bed, doggie smile, wagging tail and needy look. Up I get, searching the house for the gigantic pile of crap that I know is somewhere. Lights on. Lights off. Behind the bed in the spare bedroom. Behind the table in the dining room. This appears to be a game to Old Piss Eyes. A game she has invented and is truly enjoying playing. Jumping from room to room with a wagging tail and full attention of ME!

After a thorough search of both floors, no crap is found. Fine. It's 2:30 in the morning. I'll get a drink of water and go right back to sleep. Just as I am falling off into my next adventure with Queen Latifah, Tom Waits or John Hiatt, there it is again. I reach for the light. The dog is already standing at the side of the bed, I swear I can see the fumes still rising from her butt, Piss Eyes looking from me to the door, me to the door. Okay.

Maybe the dog has to poop. Maybe there is a giant turd pushing to get out and if I don't get up and let her out, I will find a turd. Up I get again. Jewels is already running from room to room ready to play "Where Is The Crap" and have a gay, old time. Nope, not this time. To the back door. Open the door, dog won't go out, step out on the porch (in my oldest t-shirt and unmentionables) into the 10 degree night, thinking...If she has to go that bad, it won't take long.

It is beautiful, as my legs turn blue and my teeth start to chip from the chattering, I think. No moon, stars everywhere, the Milky Way and...and the dog, standing at the bottom of the stairs, no pooping activity going on at all, with her rope in her mouth ready for a quick game of pull the owner into the snowbank.

That's it. I've had it. Back into the house with the dog following, up the stairs, into bed, trying to find the warm spot I left not too long ago, drifting off just as the smell of poop hits me again...Ha Ha...blanket over head and that's that. Until this morning when I find the pile of cat crap...with my toes, after waking up late, and realizing that this is Friday and what a better way in the world to start off my last day of the week.

Beautiful boy is coming out tonight, he and Jewels can play in the 6-10 inches of snow that is expected to fall on top of the already mounting piles and I, I will sit back and realize just how lucky I am.