Breaking News: All Is Well!

We at Fuzzy, Black Dogs have a breaking news report. Fuzzy, Black Dog number three, otherwise known as 'Bob,' has shown signs of improvement and seems to be doing quite well!

Thank you to everyone for all the kind words and support for the oversized, lovable fluffball of a dog.

While he's having a little trouble with his back, right leg, Bob is completely mobile now. He is able to perform his normal bodily functions in the normal area designated for those said bodily functions! Yay!

Hey! That's my pillow!

 

And his appetite seems to have come back in full force. The chew bone that sat nearly untouched in his kennel for four days is gone. So are the other three! And he tried to eat the checkbook just today.

Now that everyone here at the staff of Fuzzy, Black Dogs is 'fixed' and doing well, we can resume with our daily operations!

Again, thank you for your continued support.

Celebrity Airs Dirty Laundry

I recently read on the front of a magazine that Britney Spears is addicted to sugar. Shame on her! With her money and status, she should be addicted to some "high-end" drug! Not sugar! That's just pitiful.

Regardless, that headline startled and alarmed me. It occurred to me that I could be next! As the creator and author of the wildly popular blog, Fuzzy, Black Dogs, I may very well be a celebrity! While my ego soared a moment, my sensibility took over. That could be my picture instead of Brit's!

Luckily, I am dealing with my new status as a celebrity in an effective manner.

I've created a simple marketing plan. I will air my own dirty laundry before the National Enquirer, Star, National Examiner, Globe, OK! Magazine or any of those other publications get hold of it. That way I can prevent myself from being late for work in the mornings. I imagine it would take time to push through the media that could be camped out on my front lawn.

With that being said, I'm right there with you, Brit. I, too, am somewhat of a sugar addict. I realize this may come as a bit of a shocker to my adoring fans, but it's true.

This photo was definitely taken out of context!

For my latest venture, I've been making money. You name it -- ones, tens, 20's, 50's, 500's and even 1,000's! The trick is to back them with construction paper before laminating them. That way, the fourth-graders I'm making them for don't wear them out too quickly.

Each denomination has a different colored back for quick ID purposes!

According to my sisters, I went on a murder rampage once. It was purely accidental! The guppies in my fish tank had a disease which gave them white, fuzzy spots. I incorrectly mixed the medicine to cure them and... Well, none of them survived. The flushing ceremony was a sad, but beautifully choreographed event.

And before either of my sisters try to leak info to the press, I did not try to kill off my family.

In my defense, I was 13. Also, it was my first attempt at cooking. I simply misread the ingredients.

I don't think a cup of salt would kill anyone. It might raise your blood pressure and make you incredibly thirsty, but not kill you.

One Hurt, Fuzzy, Black Dog

Humor helps me cope with life. I've always felt that sometimes you just need to have a good laugh to clear your head and look at something fresh. Then you can deal with it, however serious it may be.

However, this time I'm taking break from the humor. Bob, my fuzzy, black spaniel, somehow slipped a disc in his back. We got him back from the emergency care clinic yesterday.

The fuzzball is restricted to his kennel for the next few days. That is to limit his mobility. He now takes more pills a day than I do! He's suffered some paralysis in his hindquarters due to nerve damage.

All I'm asking is that you say a small prayer for the little guy. Whether you're a dog, cat, gerbil, parakeet, sea-pig, ferret, snake or hamster person, your pet is part of your family. I'm just hoping for a speedy recovery for the fuzziest member of my family!

Many thanks.

Gluten Free Diet = Quinoa?

A household, it seems, is a constantly evolving creature. Mine has evolved yet again. Changes have occurred in the culinary department as my wife is in the process of becoming gluten free.

The obvious question is, why? The answer is simple. My wife has discovered that she is allergic to gluten.

This is a major problem. Everything, and I mean everything, contains gluten. You name it. Hot dogs, hamburgers, sausage biscuits, pancakes, cereal, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and everything in between. You know, the entire food pyramid!

Oh, yeah... Except fruits and vegetables, of course. I'm still trying to figure out what those things are and where one would locate them and how they fit into that triangle thingy. I've heard they grow on trees...

The hardest part of this gluten free thing is going out to eat. As long as I'm cooking, I pretty much know what to do. The challenge is figuring out what the restaurant has done.

Is it fried, breaded or baked? Does it contain wheat product? Does it contain preservatives, or MSG's?

Salads are generally okay, depending on croutons and salad dressing.

We have Mexican food mostly figured out. This is good since Mexican is a staple for my family. Thank goodness for La Hacienda! Ole!

Other places are not quite so simple. Bruster's Ice cream could neither confirm nor deny gluten in their product. Teenagers. So helpful.

On top of all this, I find out gluten is not just in food. It's also in vitamins, medicines and even hand lotions!

I called the customer service line on the back of the Jergens brand hand lotion bottle. Like the Bruster's teenager, the rep could "neither confirm nor deny" whether her product contained gluten or not.

Now we're trying all sorts of new foods around my house like seaweed, oat crackers and hummus. What's a hummus?

And quinoa. What's a quinoa? Is it really edible? Is it a plant or an animal? How do you even pronounce that?



Sprouted Quinoa Trio? Looks like bird seed!

Most potato chips, I'm happy to tell you, are gluten free.

Spin Cycle's Not for Dogs

Only eleven days into the new year and it's time for a status report. And, if the first week and a half of 2014 is to be any indication of what's to come, it's going to be an off-kilter, oddball kind of year!

It took a barrage of medical tests to determine that I was running a temperature and regurgitating for seemingly no reason. I am happy to announce that I've managed to shake off all illnesses, imagined or otherwise, and am currently in good health, as best I know.

Sadly, though, we are not all in good health in my happy, little household.

Mr. Volvo, who has actually been ailing for quite some time, is currently in a coma at the side of my house. His pacemaker, or alternator if you're a mechanic, simply gave out.

My car showed me that it cared by waiting until I was in the middle of nowhere. That's when it kicked the bucket and began powering down. I was trucking down an unlit, two-lane road in Randolph County at the time. I managed to push the dead vehicle the last 50 yards safely into a parking lot.

My school has already proved to be no exception to the weird epidemic that seems to be going on around me.

Car rider line has proven to be a dangerous venture these days. One parent tried to nail me with his car this past week! Luckily, metal and concrete pole number one performed its job remarkably well. It brought the car to an abrupt stop.

It was mentioned later that the driver was merely trying to avoid the speed bump and 'accidentally' hit the pole. That scenario is possible. However, my writer instincts tell me he was aiming for the deceptively handsome first grade teacher assistant.

The epidemic of weird has spread to the fuzzy, black dogs, as well.

Lilly, our littlest fluffball, disappeared recently. She was in the house when my son and I left. But, when we returned, she was gone.

We looked outside. We looked inside, both upstairs and down. My wife even joined in the search since Lilly is considered 'her' dog. (We each have our own assigned dog, of course.) I looked in the kitchen cabinets while my son looked under the sofa.

I ran a quick assessment of the situation. We obviously didn't see her. It seemed like we could smell her, but then my entire house sometimes smells like a dog. While I've never shown any psychic tendencies, I just felt she was near. Perhaps what I was experiencing was a psychotic moment, instead.

"I hear her," my wife yelled. "I hear her! She's in the laundry room!"

Women! Obviously the dog wasn't in the laundry room! That's where we keep the dogs when we're not home. I had looked there first. No dog.

Simply laughable. If the crazy dog was in the laundry room, she would have had to have been in the...

It was a tight squeeze, but it only took me 15 minutes to safely pull the little dog out of the upright washing machine.

All I can say is that 2014 can only get better from here!