Battling Darth Lilly in the Snow

I normally love my three fuzzy, black dogs. But when it snows, I don't. Snowstorms bring out the worst in my dogs.

As I detailed in my very first blog post, there's a certain protocol that must be followed when the dogs go out to go potty. I open the back door. They run into the yard. They do numbers one and two. They run back up. I let them back inside. All done!

Five years later, the fact is, Lilly still hates snow. The "all mighty princess" now takes three steps out the door, turns to face the door (and, of course, me!), looks me in the eye and squats on the deck. If she were a Star Wars dog, she would be an evil Sith Lord!

She still refuses to go outside in any adverse conditions -- defined as any conditions that don't include sunshine and blue skies!

Bob is usually oblivious to the weather conditions. Rain? No problem. Fog? No problem. Night? No problem. The snow, though, throws poop Bob off his game.

He ran outside. He paused. Whoa, everything looks different! Let's have fun! Excitedly, he begins running around like a crazed animal, except he's like a race car with no traction with his back end spinning wildly out of control.

Sadly, as he comes spinning back up onto the deck, he realizes that in all his exuberant excitement he forgot to do numbers one and two in the yard. Do I need to finish this paragraph? Really?

Luckily, Ace still uses the yard in all conditions. You've got to take the small victories where you can.

Meanwhile, I'll be waiting for the snow to melt in order to clean up the near-miss victories. And I'll also be waiting for the next snowstorm when I'll once again do battle with Darth Lilly.

Fifth-Grader Kills Off Aliens

As a teacher's assistant working with third, fourth and fifth-graders, I'm very wary of dogs, aliens and unavoidable tragedies of epic proportions. 

Approximately 30-some odd years ago, when I was in fifth grade, all my friends, neighbors and I owned homework-eating dogs. These dogs look like any other dogs. They are only identifiable by being caught in the act. This also poses a problem since they very rarely are.

Regardless, my homework was targeted by these dogs more so than either of my sisters. Perhaps because I did so much of it. Maybe mine was tastier. Whatever the reason, it was most unfair how often I came to class empty handed because of that nefarious dog.

Even worse than the dogs in those days were the aliens! They buzzed around like scavenging mosquitoes. They took anything that wasn't nailed down like, for example, my homework. Imagine that.

Those aliens weren't picky, either. Besides homework, they took house keys, car keys, money, dog leashes, books, pencils, paper... You name it. They took it.

As if the dogs and the aliens weren't enough, we also had tragedies of epic proportions in those days. You know the kind. These are the inexplicable events that just randomly occur that cause homework sucking vortexes to materialize out of thin air. There's no explaining them.

Honestly, it was a miracle that I ever even finished high school. The amount of time I spent guarding the work I did left me with little time to do it. Despite my due diligence, I was not able to protect the amazing amount of homework that I produced!

This, of course, explains my dismay to my fifth-grader's response concerning her lost math packet last Monday. I stopped her and asked if she had found it.

"Umm," she said. "No, Mr. Haworth."

"Holy shmoly," I exclaimed. "Was it eaten by a dog?"

"We don't have a dog, Mr. Haworth," she said, and giggled.

"Aliens," I said. "It must have been aliens! They took it, right?"

"There's no aliens, Mr. Haworth," she replied.

I stood there a moment, stunned.

No aliens? No homework-eating dogs? Her casual comments killed them off quickly and efficiently. I simply didn't have the heart to allow her to kill off the tragedies of epic proportions. Despite her predicted reaction to these tragedies, I am certain that they still exist somewhere in this world. 

English Proves Difficult to Learn

While I am currently in a waiting mode with my first-graders as far as National Poetry Month goes, I have spent considerable time pondering the English language. Maybe too much.

When was the last time you thought about it? Exactly how much ice is in your ice cream? There are certainly no grapes in my grape jelly. All ladybugs are not ladies. If you drown in quicksand, as I understand, it's really a slow process. Fireflies aren't made of fire and butterflies aren't made of butter.

Take the word wet, for example. If you fall in a creek, out of a boat or into a pool, you will get wet, plain and simple. But if you're a newbie at, say, anything, then you're wet behind the ears. I had a friend once who liked to whet his appetite with a glass of wine. Spelled different, pronounced the same.

Earlier today, I spent a short amount of time sharpening my knife. I used my whetstone, of course. No worries, though, since my whetstone wasn't wet.

Here's something frightening. Sweetmeat, it turns out, is the culinary name for testicles. Sorry, but that's true. Sweetmeat, however, is not sweet. Nor is it considered to be meat. Hmm... Go figure.

I share my home with my wife, my son and three fuzzy, black dogs. I fixed hot dogs for dinner several days back. One dropped, and was eaten by dog. Lucky dog, or cannibal? Of course, the three dogs dogged me the entire time I was in the kitchen cooking. By the end of that day, I was dead dog tired.

It's no wonder the English language is one of the hardest languages to learn. An exchange student at my high school once told me that English is crazy and makes no sense!

Nonsense! His statement incensed me. Since then, I have had the good sense to use the English language to try and make some cents of my own.

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year from us and all our fuzzy, black dogs in all their glory!

Alien Life Discovered on Earth?

My son and I suspect that fuzzy, black dog number two (or fbd2, for short) may not really be a dog. As of this writing, we have yet to ascertain the black creature's species, or if she really belongs to the animal kingdom here on earth.

We, my son and I, have had numerous discussions on this very topic. There have been many guesses about the fuzzy creatures origins, but none have proven helpful. I have included below some of the main points that come up each time.

"Almighty Princess," another name we call her, does not like drinking from the communal dog bowl. Instead, she acts like a sloppy drunk, wandering from one drink to the next in search of leftovers. Water, tea, coffee or juice. It doesn't matter. If she can reach it, in goes the fuzzy little head. Lap, lap, lap.

Fbd2 gets violently ill every time she consumes any store bought dog food. I have to make all her food for her. This fact is partially due to a mistake which occurred at the vet. A knowledgable vet should be aware of what substance they are injecting into what creature.

Also, every time I trim her nails, they grow back. They grow back fast. And they grow back longer! She uses these incredible claws to climb vertical surfaces, like my front or the back of the sofa, much like a cat.

Most amazing of all, though, is her ability to slip into hibernation at will. Take a good hard look at the picture above. She's only eight pounds. She's easily the smallest of the three. However, she can sleep, unmoving, in my bed for up to 14 hours at a time. No bathroom or stretch breaks. Completely immobile. I don't even know of any humans that can perform that trick!

Anyway, when I get the dna and carbon lifeform tests back, there will be another blog post announcing my newest claim to fame. Until then, we'll just have to wait and see...