It's Good to be Thankful

Another Thanksgiving has come and gone. It followed on the heels of an awesome performance (by everybody, not just me) of  "Miracle on 34th Street, the Musical." After the excitement of the show died down and Thanksgiving dinner was stashed in the fridge, I sat and quietly contemplated my life and those things that I am thankful for.

Here is a small sampling of those things that I am truly thankful for:

That I have only three fuzzy, black dogs and not four or more.
My family, which consists of my wonderful wife and weird, but sweet, teenage son and three dogs.
My really cool sister-in-law, Kat, who gave me her iPod touch.
My good set of golf clubs that remind me each time I see them that I really can't afford to play golf these days!
The large, mossy patch of ground in front of my house that never requires mowing.
My in-laws who live around the corner from me. No, really, I am thankful for that!
My family, who just happen to live around the corner in the exact opposite direction. That, incidentally, was not planned. It was merely a lucky happenstance.
The small amount of weight I've lost and kept off, despite overeating for Thanksgiving.
My sisters for teaching me the value of ALWAYS lowering the toilet seat before exiting the restroom!
My job, because not working sucks.
My nearly thirty fishing rods that I currently own.
Did I mention my wonderful, sweet wife?

I'm thankful for many, many more things that are much to numerous to all be listed in one simple blog posting. I do want to mention one more thing I'm thankful for -- the readers of this blog! I hope you enjoyed reading this (and continue to enjoy reading it!) as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

Welcome to Doggy Daycare

I have neglected my poor blog site and my awesome fans! In the frenzy of rehearsals for the upcoming play, "Miracle on 34th Street," I have nearly forgotten to offer any literary tidbits or philosophical conundrums, or even any just plain funny non-sensicals about my dogs!

And, speaking of my dogs, the dog count has risen. It seems we have become the doggy daycare for our family. Kay, my sister-in-law, has brought her dog to stay with us while she goes... She is going... Well, someplace out of town that won't allow her to bring her dog, Bear, along. We now have Ace, Lilly, Bob Barker and Bear.

I'm not sure what kind of dog Bear is. I do know that Bear is not a fuzzy, black dog. He is more of a gray, somewhat fluffy dog with a severe underbite that makes you think he's part piranha. His fur is curly, like a poodle. He's got a whispy tail, like a schnauzer. He's got a toy terrier-like face and sometimes smells like a month old coffee cup that hasn't been cleaned. And his body seems to secrete some odd protective oil that gets on everything.

I once asked Kay what kind of dog Bear is. "Your guess is as good as mine," was her simple answer. Despite all this, he's actually an adorable, cute little dog. Somehow, Bear manages to make all this work for him. We haven't yet had him a full day and, already, he's getting along with the psychotic, fuzzy, black quadrupeds I call my pets. Let's hope it stays that way.