"The Mayans Goofed!"

My dog Ozzy has been fascinated by the end-time predictions of the Mayans and other prognosticators.  The one item they have in common has to do with events in the solar system and a certain alignment of stars and planets said to bring about dramatic changes on earth.   The following story is a result of a certain pooch's end-of-the-world imagination gone haywire.

About thirty minutes ago our quiet evening was interrupted by Ozzy barking and screaming, "It's happening!  It's the end of the world"!  He had been standing on top of our kitchen table looking out the window into the darkness, and he witnessed a spectacle that set him off.  He ran to the couch and hid under a blanket.  He claimed he saw the stars moving and realigning to fulfill the terrifying prediction he learned about on the History Channel.  I walked over to the window, looked out, and saw nothing.  "What are you talking about, Ozzy?"  He ran back and jumped up on the kitchen table, pointed out the window, and said "See those lights moving around out there?"  After that he ran back to the couch, climbed under the blanket again, and cried "It's the end of the world"!

It took me a moment, but I finally realized he what he was seeing; "Those aren't stars, Chicken Little... those are lightning bugs."  Ozzy eased out from under the blanket, walked over and jumped up on the table, and starred out the window.  After a minute of thought and observation, he shook his head and said "Nostradamis never mentioned anything about lightning bugs".

15 Pound Meteorologist!

My wife accuses me of being hypersensitive when it comes to small, helpless creatures, and my dog Ozzy has picked up on this.  I must first inform you that I suffer from chronic back pain due to time in military service.  Changing weather patterns can have a dramatic effect on the severity of my discomfort.  Ozzy overheard a recent comment that I can sense an approaching front and other weather phenomena, and is using this to his advantage. 

Just the other day Ozzy was moaning about his "arthritis" flaring up, and said he needed to relax on the couch.  After I made him comfortable, he asked me to get the tv remote for him.  He claims he would have done it himself, but the possibility of afternoon thundershowers caused too much pain.  I thought this to be a strange comment.  Later that evening he said he could "feel"  the 10-15 mph wiind gusts in Kansas, and suggested a bowl of ice cream might help ease his suffering.  He was playing me like a banjo.

However, Ozzy's little scheme unravelled yesterday.  When I returned from the doctor's office I walked up to the door, and as I fumbled with my keys I could hear theWeather Channel on the television.  I opened the door and walked in, only to find the tv turned off, and Ozzy sitting in my recliner whinning about the pain he was experiencing due to the "partly cloudy skies in Pensacola, Florida".  Then he looked up at me with his sad-sack expression and said another bowl of ice cream should alleviate his suffering. 

Busted!
 

Weekend Is Over, Ozzy Is Back!

After a weekend of mental and physical R&R, my dog Ozzy is once again prepared to take on the world.  I did not allow him to attend the visit to my podiatrist today, after the difficult time he gave me following the last one.  He taunts me enough here at the house without having to deal with his abuse at the doctor's office as well.

When I arrived home Ozzy met me at the door, and he immediately started harassing me about today's appointment and my leaving him at home.  One of his smart comments was that I was going to the wrong kind of doctor, and that my foot pain was all in my head.   He suggested I take a better look at the list of physicians in the Yellow Pages, and I would notice just past the listings of podiatrists I would find psychiatrists, which he says is what I really need.  Ozzy also claims that if diagnosed properly, the wardrobe in my closet would  probably include a straight-jacket. 

Man's best friend can be a real encouragement.

Immitation: The Best Form of Foolishness!

You should see my dog Ozzy when he is entertianing us with immitations of various people or animals he has seen in his life.  Last week he was acting out the movements and sounds of a Grizzly Bear.  One night our sleep was disturbed by a series of moans and groans which led me to believe someone in our family had suddenly become terribly sick.  It was Ozzy, and with a sheepish grin said "Humback Whale song".  He can chirp and flap his front legs like a bird, and hiss like a cat.  I especially enjoy his face distorting, cheeks puffing, and his mouth opening and closing as he mimics a Sea Bass.  Who new what was coming?  

This morning I was sitting in my recliner enjoying a cup of coffee and a time of reading and personal reflection.  The tranquility was interrupted by what I perceived as a low-octave, two-note tune that sounded strangely familiar.  A slight movement caught my eye, as I noticed Ozzy was slithering across the floor in a snake-like motion (he looked like the Grinch).  Leaving Ozzy to entertain himself, I went back to reading.  I should have payed better attention.  Moments later, Ozzy launched himself off the floor, his mouth wide open, and bit me square on my big toe.  I sreamed "OUCH!  What in the world?".  Ozzy let go of my toe, and ran down the hallway with a sinister giggle shouting "Shark Week"!

My big toe STILL hurts!

Hyperactive!

Nothing beats a good cup of coffee, especially to get one going in the morning, or enjoying the freshly-brewed "elixir of life" after a fine meal.  It allows one to settle in for the evening and enjoy the peace and quiet that follows a busy day.  If you are like me and cannot resist drinking your favorite brand of Java, just make sure to follow one important tip:  Close your doors, lock your windows, check in every closet, and look under every bed... there just might be a dog named Ozzy under there.

After I poured my coffee, I added my favorite creamer and two teaspoons of raw sugar.  Unfortunately, my day was not over, as my wife required a search party to locate her missing MP3 player.  I made the mistake of placing my drink in a place that Ozzy could easily get to.  He put all 15 pounds into sucking down the rest of the cup.  When I returned to my empty container, I looked at my little pal, who was giving me a complete look of ignorance.  He said he didn't know what happened to the rest of the coffee.

Fifteen minutes later, the truth was revealed as the brew began to show its affects.  No matter how comfortable Ozzy tried to get, no matter how hard he tried to nap, his eyes steadily grew to the size of large marbles.  Shortly after, he began running around the living room and bouncing off the walls, stopping only to plead and beg to be let for what he said was an emergency.  I think he doused every tree in the front yard.  He came back in, and ten minutes later, he had to go back out and douse the trees in the back yard.  It doesn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure out the identity of the Java Theif... it took him four hours to regain his composure.  From now on it's decaf for Ozzy!







 

Ozzy's Babes!

My office work was interrupted a few days ago from what sounded like "Oooos", "Aaaaahs", and "Oh, Yeahs" from the great room.  I had to investigate, and sure enough, my dog Ozzy was the source.  He was chilled on the couch watching TV while eating a bowl of ice cream.

At first I thought his noises were from the sheer pleasure of his tasty treat; it was not.  Panning from the couch to the big screen, I noticed he was watching Fox News.  Ozzy became infatuated with what he described as the "fine babes" who serve as anchors for the network.  It is sad that my dog can't even watch the news without drooling over the chicks, so I grabbed the remote and hit the channel change button... the Weather Channel wasn't much help either.  "Oooo, weather babes" he said.  At that point Ozzy lost his television priviledges for the remainder of the day.

The sad part is, we were thinking of taking him on a family beach trip at some point in the future.  If Ozzy is going to lose it over news chicks and weather babes, how do you think he would act at the beach?

Next Round's on Ozzy!

If you have a dog, chances are you have seen your pet drink from sources other than that expensive water station you purchased.  Ozzy is no different, and when he builds a thirst, a little variety adds some spice to his life.

I had some yard work to do, so I put on my work clothes and eased outside, leaving Ozzy in the house.  While I was cutting the grass, he decided it was time to try the sparkling clear water from the toilet.  Since he is a small dog, he slid a stack of books up to the edge so as not to fall in.  Unfortunately the lid dropped and  pinned him to the rim of the john, and he got stuck. 

After It  returned my weedeater and lawnmower to the storage building, I went back into the house, only to hear a desperate cry from the hallway.  I followed the pleas for help to the bathroom, and there was Ozzy, his head in the toilet and the lid on top of him.  Suprised by his delimma, I blurted out "What are you doing"?   Ozzy calmly answered, "I just came in for a drink... I didn't think I would get stuck here for HAPPY HOUR."

Reality TV, Bimbo Stye!

My dog Ozzy was channel surfing when he came across a blonde bombshell reality tv program.  He sat on the recliner watching the melodrama unfold.  Shaking his head, he concluded that this was not reality. Normal people struggle with a variety of problems such as medical difficulties, earning enough money to make ends meet, avoid losing their homes, keeping their children safe, etc.  This was different... this was ridiculous.

Ozzy called them "spoiled little divas".  He said the only problems these bimbos dealt with were which hair color to choose, how many designer clothes they had in thier closet, credit card limits, and losing a fake eyelash in a fancy restaraunt. This particular episode featured two girls involved in a chick fight over (as Ozzy describes it) "a whole lot of nothing".   In one scene a blonde brat was squalling in front of the camera, make-up running all over her rapidly changing face;  "I didn't do anything wrong, and she hurt me" she whinned (Ozzy rolled his eyes and said he wanted to throw up).  After watching this feud for as long as he could take, Ozzy groaned and said "these air-heads just needed to get over it".

I think Ozzy's done with reality tv.

Poaching Pooch!

My dog Ozzy was suprised to learn how much money is made by poachers selling the body parts of game animals to black marketers from Asia.  At first he said it ain't right.  Then I saw the mental wheels spinning, the sawdust burning, and dollar signs rolling in his eyes.  He began asking me what we could poach here in Georgia.  So much for not being right. 

What would motivate him to suddenly change  his mind?  The root of all evil... money.  Ozzy could picture that air-conditioned dog house, the endless supply of Milkbones, and weekly pampering at the local pet groomer.  Yes, the list of worldly posessions was growing as fast as the list of poached animals, until I told him that some Asian folks are known to eat dogs.  Ozzy's little face got serious again... then he said, "it ain't right".

The Mosquito!

There has been a mosquito living in one of our bathrooms for two weeks.  We could not go in there for any length of time before he would start his strafing and dive-bombing manuevers.  My dog Ozzy said he grew weary of this little pest taking long showers and waking him up  flushing the throne in the middle of the night...he said I had stop this nonsense.

Ozzy followed me to the bathroom, and stood in the hallway chanting "Cage Match!  Cage Match!" while I went in and closed the door behind me.   A few minutes later, I found the mosquito, and the battle was on.  With Ozzy yelling "get that skeeter", I brought all my military training and fury to bear, swatting and swinging in all directions.  An hour later, exasperated and exhausted, I emerged victorious.  Peace had finally returned to our home.  The Beast was dead.

A Salute to Our Troops!

I told you folks my dog Ozzy watches too much television.  Yesterday he brought to my attention a program aired on the "Military Channel" a program that featured soldiers who have adopted stray dogs in Iraq and Afghanistan.  Ozzy was touched, since he too was dropped off at a playground by his former owner and left to fend for himself.  At 12 pounds of sheer min-pin ferocity, it is a wonder he survived.

Ozzy and I would like to take this moment to say we love and support our soldiers on duty, both at home and abroad.  Those who are serving in current war zones have our utmost respect and appreciation... and to know that, amidst the chaos of war, our troops are actually adopting stray dogs and giving them a home is a testimony to their character.  Ozzy noticed some of these dogs were finding transportation to the US to live with their new military families. 

These war-zone canines are returning the favor to our men and women in uniform.  After spending time on US bases, and actually participating in patrols, these dogs are assisting our soldiers' transition to life after Iraq and Afghanistan.  Personal testimony reveals how much they have helped ease the symptoms of PTSD.  Ozzy is glad to know that dogs are contributing to the war effort, and we both hope the best for those who are able to come home safely.

Ozzy's Bigfoot Expedition: Phase 2

Phase 1 was a success, now Ozzy is ready to finish Phase 2 (collecting items necessary for our expedition).  I was curious about some items and needed an explaination.  Included on the list were such things as a pillow case and plastic zip ties.  Apparently Ozzy doesn't just want pictures... he wants to kidnap the Big Guy. We probably need to add bright lights and a chair in order to interrogate Sasquatch. 

Also interesting was the label Ozzy put on the plastic bags to be used for Bigfoot droppings samples (Ozzy actually believes he made this name up).  On each of these bags he wrote "Hoobastank" ( I didn't have the heart to tell him there is a rock band with that name.  It would shatter his self-esteem).

Daddy is a BAD Patient!

If you have not seen the first "Fast and Furious" movie (in particular the scene when Vin Diesel describes his father's auto crash on the racetrack) you will not appreciate this post.

Earlier today I had an appoinment with my podiatrist to receive another injection in my heel to relieve pain caused by plantar faciitis.  My dog Ozzy decided to go with me for moral support, so he sat in the waiting room while I was escorted to the back for treatment.  While the Doctor was injecting my foot, I heard some little kid in the next room squalling while having staples removed from his tiny foot (he had surgery a couple of weeks earlier).

Afterward, I met Ozzy in the waiting room.  He said he wasn't ever going to the Doctor's office with me again.  I thought it was due to hearing that kid scream.  That's when Ozzy informed me that the child in the next room was being seen AFTER I received my injection... He said it was ME who was screaming!!!

I think he's a little embarassed.

Ozzy Wants to Join the Army!

My dog Ozzy has noticed me keeping tabs on former and current Army buddies via facebook.  This evening we were tuned in to a network that is showing Bugs Bunny cartoons, and Ozzy became an immediate fan of "Marvin the Martian".  After the program was over, we returned to facebook, and found a post by a young man currently recieving training at Ft. Benning, GA.  That's when Ozzy asked me if they allowed dogs to join up.  I told him the military does indeed use dogs for numerous purposes. Then he asked if the Army would issue him an "Illudium P-36 Explosive Space Modulator"!

If the Army does have it in their arsenal, Ozzy will definitely get ahold of one!

Unbearable!

I received a phone call from home during my vacation in the mountains of North Georgia.  It was not a pleasant tone.  Since my teenage son had football practice all week, he stayed behind to housesit and take care of the dogs.  For added peace of mind and security, we allowed him to have one of his friends keep him company.

Back to the phone conversation... I got an earfull of having been left with creatures that are noisy, dirty, unpredictable, and downright uncooperative.  The caller had put up with all he could stand, and said he didn't know how I dealt with this every day, having to feed and clean up after these destructive little beasts.  They don't like baths, and will live in filth if left on their own.  Finally he said the sooner they are gone, the more peaceful it will be around the house.

The caller wasn't my son Jake complaining about the dogs... it was my dog Ozzy complaining about teenage boys!

Running for President!

My dog Ozzy watched the Republican presidential debate last night, and after seeing the pool of candidates, he is now considering a run at the Oval Office.  When I asked what he would do, he indicated he would spend most of his time eating, sleeping, watching TV, and barking at White house staffers.  That means he would do absolutley nothing... which is typical in Washington.

Secret Service's job would be interesting; cleaning up those items he has chewed to bits, giving him a bath, taking him out to , well, you know, and stepping on squeaky toys.  Instead of tax shelters, there would be more animal shelters, and he said he would have all "No Dogs Allowed" signs removed... he says it's discrimination.

Watch out America... Ozzy for President.  Has a ring to it, doesn't it? 

Touching Lives!

There may be those who feel this blog is somewhat silly, but they are probably unaware of the reason I created this blog.  I am fully aware of the nature of individual struggles.  Many people are faced with hardships that we may not understand unless we are placed in the same situation.  Stress at home or at work, personal trials that present challenges on a physical, emotional, or spiritual level.  If my dog Ozzy and I can supply a little comic relief to those who desperately need a light moment, then we have succeeded in our quest.  The greatest achievement of man (and man's best friend) is not financial, technological, or even individual; I believe we are at our best when we touch the lives of others in a positive manner.

Whether you link to this blog for a laugh, or find yourself in need of relief from personal setbacks, if even for a moment, that is the primary reason for the existence of "Ozzy's World".  My dog Ozzy says what better reason is there than touching lives (and, on occasion, giving someone a hard time).  We are here for you.

Ozzy's Loves TV!

Ozzy is one canine that has a thing for the plasma screen.  He watches intently.  If a scene contains dog noises, it sets him off big-time.  I am somewhat concerned the effect it may have on him.  Parents are warned not to allow their kids to watch too much tube... Ozzy as it turns out, has a strange addiction to M. Night Shyamalan flicks.  I think he may be too far gone.  Last week he bragged repeatedly that he was "Unbreakable"... (and we own all of M. Nights movies).  We're in big trouble.

The Oswald Expedition; Ozzy's List

I am on assignment in Helen, Georgia, scouting areas that may hold evidence of Bigfoot. My dog Ozzy is coordinating this mission from Bigfoot Central's headquarters located in North McDuffie County, GA. (that's just above Thomson for those of you who don't know any better... and there is no "P" in our "Thomson").

Today I received the preliminary list of items our fearless leader deems necessary to embark on our expedition.  The list includes things such as camping gear, food items, toiletries, and other necessities for surviving in the wild.  Those items strictly for Bigfoot research include trail cams, night vision equipment, plastic bags (for fiber and stool sample collection).  I was most curious about the last two items:  4 cases of Bud Light, and 10 Dominos Pizzas.  I asked Ozzy why they were on the list, and his answer was simple... Saquatch Bait.

Right about now I'm thinking the only thing we'll attract to our cameras will be half the Rednecks in White County.

The Oswald Expedition: Phase 1

Since a recent "Finding Bigfoot" program aired on Animal Planet, my dog Ozzy and I have decided it's time to make preparations for our own expedition.  Since supporters have been slow to invest in our Idaho trip, the target area is Helen, GA, where Bigfoot activity has increased.  As for the title of our little excursion, Ozzy insisted that "Oswald sounded more professional than "Daddy", and I couldn't argue that point.

I have been dispatched by our fearless canine leader to Helen for intel gathering.  The location chosen for our search is the Raven Falls area, and I was instructed by Ozzy to inspect this densly wooded region of White County.  He said that while walking the trail I should look for signs such as footprints, droppings, places where rocks had been disturbed, and markings on trees.  In particular, I was to pay close attention for any pungent, nasty, skunklike odor (probably similar to the Cub Scout troop that just passed by). 

In all, the mission was a success.  Will be headed back to Big Foot Central in North McDuffie County in short order to plan for phase two (Ozzy's supply list).  Stuff's getting real interesting.

Attack at Dawn!

My dreams were ended abruptly at 0-dark thirty this morning by a series of loud barks, intimidating growls and fierce posturing from seemingly every side of the bed.  I thought I was surrounded.  Turns out it was my dog Ozzy, and I was the focus of his wrath.  He continued even after I spoke to him, and since he does not have a "snooze" button, it took a dose of ritalin and several more attempts to calm him down.  Finally his attack subsided. 

Upon investigation, my wife and I discovered the reason for his vicious, incessant assault.  My sound sleep resulted in loud snoring, causing Ozzy to spring into action.  Even after I was awake and my snoring had ceased, Ozzy continued to believe that the strange "creature" making the noise was still in the bed with us.  Neither my wife nor I could go back to sleep afterward.
It was abrupt, it was obnoxious, it was violent... and it definitley beats the tar out of a good alarm clock.  Thanks alot, Ozzy!

Sunday Stretch.

As far as my dog Ozzy is concerned, Sundays are for R&R.  He chilled on the recliner, ate half a bag of Doritos, and watched some television.  His primary achievement of the afternoon was engaging in some theraputic stretching which he called "Yogurt".  He had some rather strange terms for his numerous positions; Salutation to the Moon, Downward Watchdog, and several others that I dare not attempt to pronounce.  It took approximately thirty minutes  from start to finish.  His final move he called a "locust pose", in which he shut his eyes, placed his paws on his knees, and gave several soft, extended growls.  When he finished, he placed his paws together, and prayerfully said "No-more -stay".  It was definitely a Dog Day Afternoon.

Take Your Meds

After my wife's recent surgery, she was allowed to come home with complete instructions for proper care and prescription medications.  Of course, one of these was a pain med in liquid form with a dose of one tablespoon every 6 hours as needed.  On one occassion, as she was carefully measuring a dose, she spilled a small amount onto the floor by accident.  She had every intention to clean it up, but got distracted, and forgot to do so.  No worries; my dog Ozzy found the spill, and dealt with it as dogs usually do.  An hour later, I noticed Ozzy was behaving strangely.  As he rolled over to lie on his back, words like "groovy", "cool", and "whoa" rolled off his tongue.  Realizing that something wasn't right, I walked over to check on him.  He asked me if we were planning to attend Woodstock this year, and made unusual requests, such as asking to hear some Pink Floyd or Jimi Hendrix on the CD player.  When we finally pieced together what had happened, I promised my wife that after Ozzy regathered his wits, I would teach him the importance of just saying "No".

Preparing for Football Season!

Recently, my dog Ozzy and I were watching a football game re-run from last year on ESPN .  Since he is not familiar with the sport and its rules, I explained the game as it progressed.  It took about an hour before he was able to get a grasp on the basics of what most call "America's Passion".  This morning I discovered just how much he had learned.  While throwing a ball to a gang of competitive Min-Pins, one particular toss rolled down the hallway.  "Spazz" got to it first, and then had to run the ball back through a maze of furry fuzzballs of fury in an attempt to return it to her daddy.  The pressure was too much, and in the mass hysteria she dropped the ball.  It was at that moment I heard Ozzy scream "FUMBLE"!

Yeah, we're ready for some Football!

Daddy Needs a Little Help!

My dog Ozzy and I were checking out our new pictures my wife took for Facebook/Blog purposes.  Ozzy stared at himself for a few moments, then told me how cute his picture was, while my picture made my head look like a watermelon turned sideways, and my face squinty.  I brought up the possibility of using "Photoshop" to make my head look more normal.  Ozzy said it wouldn't work; he said the combined efforts of every cyberwarfare computer geek working at the Pentagon couldn't fix a mug like mine! 

Which side?

So, it's late, we're all getting a bit sleepy, and my dog Ozzy is making preparations to settle in for a long summer's night (yeah, it's hot outside).  As I watched Ozzy make his sleep preparations, a question came to mind... Before they bed down, do dogs have a preference on whether they turn their circle to the left, or to the right?  I just had to ask.  His answer was to the point: "It depends on the ability of the dog, he said.  Some dogs are able to spin to their right, others can only go left.  Me, I can turn either left or right... I'm amphibious." 
Yep, I just had to ask. 

Mr. Rogers

I was in need of some spirtitual nourishment today, so I began channel surfing for an acceptable tv ministry to tune into, when I thought I heard my dog "Ozzy" say "stop".  There on the plasma screen was some guy from a big city in Texas speaking to a large group of people seated in a huge building.  After two minutes, "Ozzy" sarcastically told me "this guy thinks he's cute."  We held there for a couple of extra minutes, and had to switch to another program.  "Ozzy" said for a moment there he felt he had been transported to "Mr. Roger's Pop Psychology Neighborhood". 

The Workout!

Earlier today I enjoyed a vigorous workout using my Rip-60 straps.  Shortly thereafter I noticed my dog "Ozzy" was seated in my recliner using my netbook.  When I inquired as to what he was doing, "Ozzy" said he was ordering his OWN fitness progam (he had watched an infomercial about some "Brazilian" workout).  He did not go into details.  Probably a good thing.