Trick or Treatin'!!

We live way out in the boonies, it's dark and scary, and nobody comes to our house except the UPS Guy. Ozzy was determined to go trick or treating, and since he worked so hard on his costume, I took him to a local neighborhood. His costume was made from burlap sacks and grass, an idea he picked up from M. Night's movie "Signs". It took alot of time and imagination, but I believe Ozzy is the first person, er, dog, to ever go out on Halloween night dressed as a crop circle. So, the adventure begins.

The first house we came to a lady answered the door. She obviously was alive and well during the sixties as she took one look at Ozzy and said, "Oh, how cute... a marijuana patch". Ozzy looked up at me and shrugged his shoulders, but he did get some candy, said thank you, and set off to the next house.

The second house was occupied by a man who owned a landscaping business. He took one look at Ozzy, told him to wait a moment, and walked back into his house. A minute later he came out of his garage with a weedeater and chased Ozzy all over his front yard. This lasted several minutes until the man finally collapsed on his front lawn, the weedeater still running wide open. No candy obtained here.

In the third and final house lived a family who were obviously die-hard Georgia Bulldog fans. These folks had gone all-out to establish a spooky environment, their front porch dimly lit with blacklight bulbs for a desired effect. This caused Ozzy's costume to appear blue, reminding them of the color of Boise State's football field. They barked at Ozzy, and threw candy at him as they chased him out of the yard.

Ozzy jumped into the truck and asked if we could go home, like NOW. I asked if he wanted to try another neighborhood. I knew of one just outside of town where the folks were friendly. When I told him most of the people in this rural area were farmers, he adamantly refused. He said the costume he had on would probably remind them of "Children of the Corn". On the way home we stopped by WalMart and bought our own candy. "There's always next year", I told him. Ozzy looked up at me and said next year I will be the one to knock on the door.

Go Doggie.com!

Here we are, my dog Ozzy and I playing on the internet, checking out his blog and my facebook page. The ocassional advertisments pop up on the grid, some are uninvited while others are inticing. One of the ads on my fb page caught Ozzy's attention right away. Now he wants to drive an Indy Car.

What would cause my little pal to notice this particular add? It wasn't the flashy cars, the specs of the engines, nor the speed with which they run. In fact, there wasn't an Indy car in the picture. Instead, it was the "who" that caused Ozzy's heart to race. I literally watched him melt into the recliner, loosing physical and mental control as if shot with a tranqilizer gun. The only word he could get out of his mouth sounded something like a "Wow".

You are probably wondering who could take a sophisticated pooch like Ozzy and turn him into instant mush. I don't expect you ladies to understand his unusual behaviour, but the guys will sympathize with Ozzy. The only face associated with Indy Car that can force men to make an appointment with their cardiologist to install a pacemaker is Danica Patrick. Yes, Ozzy saw her on a small fb add and fell head-over-heels in love with this racing beauty. Other than what I quoted earlier, he has not said a word for 15 minutes, which is probably best for now. It would certainly be difficult to carry on a conversation with a constant supply of drool streaming from his lips.

The next time you have access to a dictionary, look up the word "smitten". You just might see a new picture (or face) right beside it!

Ozzy Meets Darwin!

A couple of months ago my podiatrist gave me an injection in my heel during a scheduled office visit. My dog Ozzy went with me, and sat in the waiting room while I reclined in a chair and underwent my proceedure. Ozzy had a great time needling me about that incident (pun intended). However, while he waited for me in the lobby, Ozzy read an article in some magazine concerning evolution.

On the way home I fielded questions from my inquisitive canine about Charles Darwin's theory, and explained the various ideas some hold as to the age of the earth, the beginning of the universe, and the origins of man. He asked about the artist's rendering of the evolutionary chart which shows man's progress from the primordial ooze to the fish, frog, monkey, and ultimately an upright intelligent human.

Ozzy finally decided to put his own artistic talents on display by drawing my evolutionary chart. He grabbed a piece of paper and a box of crayons and began gleefully working on the origins of Daddy. It took him more than an hour, during which I found him laughing on several ocassions. I couldn't wait to see the outcome of his little project, and was quite suprised at how well he did.

According to Ozzy, my chart starts with a small green spot, develops into a one-eyed blob which later grows feet and walks itself into a hideous little toad. From there my ancestry stretches into a hunched but upright hybrid between a lizard and the Creature from the Black Lagoon. After the creature comes something that Ozzy refers to as a Go-rilla, and then of course a slick-headed redneck with funny ears holding a motorcycle helmet. I must admit Ozzy outdid himself on this one. Not bad for his first attempt at art.

I was curious about one thing on my evolutionary chart... the little green spot that started it all. When I asked Ozzy what it was, he smiled at me and replied, "Oh...that's a booger".

The Brawl That Got Ugly!

It seemed simple enough, or at least that's what the infomercial claimed. The canine fresh breath product "Plaque Attack" appealed to me, especially as it pertained to my dog Ozzy. To be so small, Ozzy packs a powerful punch when it comes to dog breath. He is capable of causing traffic to back up for miles on the highway in front of our house.

The add said to point and spray, so I ordered a pump-action bottle to try out on Ozzy. The testimonials called it a miracle. It took two weeks, but when the package arrived I was disappointed to find I had received the Plaque Attack gel. It requires a more involved application. Since Ozzy only weighs 15 pounds, I placed him in my lap, squeezed a dab on my finger, and held his tiny head still while I attempted to wipe a little gel on his teeth. I did not realize I would be in for the fight of my life.

Ozzy's first reaction was a head jerk, which freed him from my hand. I tried again, and things got animated in a hurry. What appeared to be a simple task turned into a full-blown wrestling match. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hold the little rascal still. I got gel all over my shirt, and couldn't hang onto the bottle either. Add to this Ozzy's new-found WWE wrestling moves, I became engaged in a battle that included techniques used by Stone Cold Steve Austin and the Undertaker. At one point Ozzy got loose, climbed up on the edge of the couch, and pounced on me while screaming "Stinger Splash".

Within a few minutes I found myself the victim of an arm-bar take-down, the left side of my face on the floor with the right side facing up, and a botttle of Plaque Attack gel stuck in my mouth. With a John Senna scream and a squeeze of the bottle, I was not only twisted like a New York pretzel, but I had the freshest breath in McDuffie County. A three-count later the match was over, with me on the losing end. The spray bottle would have worked better.

Wounded pride aside, I have to think positive... at least my wife won't mind a welcome home kiss this afternoon.

Deer Season's Opening Day!

On Saturday my dog Ozzy experienced that special day which deer hunters all over the nation look forward to, obsess about, and tell tales that seem either insane or impossible. No other day attracts so many hunters into the fields and forests of America like Opening Day of Deer Season. This was his first, and he was like a kid on Christmas morning.

Preparing family members for the hunt is quite taxing, with everyone running around the house trying to locate the items necessary to take to the woods. I get hit with questions such as "where are my socks", or "who stole my hunting boots"? Ozzy followed me around as I gathered his hunting gear. He looked quite lovely in his bright orange vest and camo hunting cap (I should have taken a picture). After all was secure, I grabbed my backpack, and we headed to our hunting spot.

Upon arriving at our destination, we exited the truck. It was dark and we needed a flashlight to see our way. As we walked toward our blind Ozzy began breathing heavily, which initially caused some concern. To my suprise he was immitating the hunters he had seen on television. Anyone who regularly watches outdoor network programing will find most hunters are out of shape physically, and even limited walking causes massive shortness of breath. Ozzy just thought it was something he was supposed to do, and I convinced him that it was not necessary.

When we arrived at our blind, it was still so dark that we could not see each other. Ozzy wasn't very quiet, and I told him he must have learned to whisper on an artillery range. It was necessary that he receive a crash course in how to talk quietly during the hunt. I also knew he would wiggle around like a worm, thus the decision to hunt in a blind. I placed some deer scent wafers some 30 yards from our position, and we took our seats and listened to the sounds of the night woods prior to dawn when the forest comes to life.

Ozzy and I listened intently for footsteps or vocal communications from deer and other animals. We heard the sounds of sticks breaking and the crackle of leaves as a variety of nocturnal creatures navigated the woods without benefit of daylight. A hoot owl caused him to giggle, but perhapst the most humorous moment of the morning came when I decided to pull a buck grunt call from my backpack. I gave two or three soft, low frequency grunts in an attempt to illicit a possible response from a nearby deer. The only response I received was Ozzy telling me that I was disgusting, and if the noise I was making continued, I would need to sit downwind.

Hunting with Ozzy is going to be as much fun as "Messin' with Sasquatch".

Woodsmen's Workout!

Okay, I know this blog is supposed to be all about Ozzy, but I just have to share this one with bloggers worldwide (animal rights activists might want to cover their ears). Ozzy went hunting with me today, but this story is from yesterday's black powder rifle grand finale. This is a story for the ages... well, maybe not, but it happened.

My son Jake had a highschool football game last night, and I nearly decided not to go hunting. It was 4 in the afternoon, so I decided to go until 6. I really didn't expect to see anything, and since I had not exercised all day, I carried some weight bands with me. It might not be iron, but bands and a shake weight work in a pinch. I arrived at my natural blind, and after getting situated, I began a thirty minute workout, which isolated biceps, triceps, and shoulders.

Towards the end of my last set of exercises, I happened to glance up, and walking along the ridge across from me was a deer, which was the last thing I expected at that point. Two minutes later I bagged my deer and called my wife over the cell phone. Apparently the secret to hunter success is engaging in a Woodmen's Workout while waiting on the quarry. The final part of my exercise was dragging the deer to my house.

When I arrived home, my dog Ozzy was busy looking through our DVD collection. He says if my weight band workout was successful, he was going to try his Brazil Butt Lift videos in order to bag the next Georgia State record buck. You'll read all about it on Monday.

Ozzy's Deer Hunter Research Results Are In!

After selecting a well-travelled spot in the deer woods and creating mock scrapes and rub lines throughout the area, my dog Ozzy's trail cameras recorded some amazing deer hunter footage, some of which cannot be disclosed on this blog. Let's just say Ozzy has learned that some folks stoop to levels even he didn't know existed... and dogs do some pretty disgusting things.

Our cameras revealed hunters from all walks of life, and all shapes and sizes. It was "Swamp People" meets "Texas Chainsaw Masacre" in most of the footage. Occasionally we caught glimpses of real intellect, but that was rare (and most from the deer). Ozzy said he never thought a hunter would actually sniff a scrape, but several did. One camera recorded several hunters finding a large mock scrape at the same time. It was the Hatfields and the McCoys all over. Fists,tobacco juice, beer bottles and false teeth flew in a free-for-all that resembled a WWE "Last Man Standing" brawl in Vegas. Ozzy's scientific opinion is these folks need a role model... and some serious medication.

Perhaps the most interesting footage was a man that sprayed too much doe scent on his clothing. He carelessly passed by several cameras... followed by several very large enamored bucks. He hasn't been seen since. Ozzy said he hoped this guy saved the last bullet for himself.

The suprising result of this study is Ozzy wants to experience deer hunting firsthand. It just so happens that Saturday is opening day for the Georgia firearms deer season. I am now obligated to allow Ozzy to sit in the stand with me, so things should be real interesting. He told me he wants to see if this hunting thing will drive him as mad as the subjects in his deer hunter study(I'll let you know on Monday).

The Monsters Are Coming!

The leaves continue their change in nature's colorful transformation to the cooler days of autumn. With these changes come the annual celebration of All Hallow's Eve, what we Americans call Halloween. My wife set out decorations which include pumpkins, faux fall folliage, happy little scarecrows, and hay bales. The atmosphere in our home is much more upbeat compared recent months. My dog Ozzy is caught up in the euphoria, spinning yarns and relishing the joy of celebrating his first fall with a family that loves him.

The yearly halloween moood-setting ritual began earlier this week as we pulled out several dvds such as "Wolfman" and "Van Helsing". Tuesday night we watched "Sleepy Hollow" starring Johnny Depp, which is one of Ozzy's favorite movies. It features a spooky little town, scarecrows, pumpkins, the usual gore, and, of course, the Headless Horseman, whom Ozzy refers to as a "haint". Every time he watches this flick he is glued to the screen.

Thus far our efforts to set the mood for the season have been successful. For the last two days Ozzy has playfully claimed the haints are hanging around the house, and creatures he calls "booger monsters" are scratching at the front door. Last night he approached me from the kitchen in a stealthy fashion, baring his teeth, raking his claws, breathing heavily and growling like a werewolf. I take this as a hint as to what he expects to watch on tv this evening... and we still have over two weeks until "Spooky Day".

Just like Paul Revere rode through the countryside over two hundred years ago, Ozzy is shouting a warning to all who may hear, "The Monsters are Coming"!

Ozzy the Meteorologist!

My dog Ozzy and I watched Channel 12 News this morning, and he was so impressed with the weather report that he decided he could be a meteorolgist. I thought little of his statement until he put his plan to practice. He insisted on proving he could do a better and more accurate job of predicting and reporting the weather, and asked for my assistance to prove his theory.

Ozzy had me pull a chair from the kitchen table and place it in front of the television. I sat in the chair and watched as Ozzy stood on the chair and rendered a rather animated report in front of a blank screen. He swayed his front legs in a fashion similar to a meteorologist demonstrating sweeping winds and fronts bearing down on the continent. Without any limits Ozzy took great liberties to expand on the report we watched this morning. Rain and cold fronts were replaced by more dramatic climate changes that, if true, would be rather frightening.

The end result of the report is far more elaborate than fact. Ozzy's report includes three menacing tornadoes, a line of Hurricanes bearing down on the CSRA, flooding on a mass scale, all of which will cause the Strom Thurmond Dam to burst. Augusta is in big trouble (an earthquake was included in his dire prediciton). When it was over, he asked me how he did. I was too scared to speak. This wasn't a simple weather report... this was Judgement Day!

Stay Out of the Clean Laundry!

Due to the United States Army's meticulous pracitice in all areas regarding soldier training, I learned to fold laundry the military way. I grew up under the care of a momma that neatly folded our clothes and placed them in drawers in an orderly fasion. My mother refused to send her kids to school in clothes that looked like we slept in them. However, I did not learn this art until basic training at Ft. Benning, GA. Thanks to Uncle Sam I earned laundry duty when I got married (my wife never went to basic training... enough said).

I usually retreive the clothes from the dryer and place then on our couch to be folded shortly thereafter. Every item must be folded in a certain fasion, no exceptions. Unfortunately, Ozzy finds the warmth and scent of the freshly washed and dried clothes irresistable, and I often find him huddled just under the top layer in a little brown ball. He receives a scolding and a gentle nudge in order to discourage him from climbing back into the stack. He resorts to stealthy techniqes to avoid detection, but ultimately gets caught and scolded every time.

Today he determined that he would get away with his laundry rebellion by devising a getaway scheme to avoid detection. After washing a today's load and placing them on the couch, I went outside to check the mailbox. When I came back into the house I took a headcount to make sure none of the canine faction sneaked outside behind me. Ozzy was missing, so I began looking for him and calling his name. It was a moment later I witnessed what some would describe as a miracle... a pair of shorts rising from the dead linen pile and sneaking down the hallway by themselves. Of course, Ozzy was attached to this wonder wear, but he could not be seen until the shorts were pulled away. A brilliant manuever by a truly resourceful adversary.

He did not receive a scolding this time. His getaway shorts saved him, and provided me with a much-needed laugh.

Fall Festival!

My dog Ozzy is captivated by the annual changing of the leaves that occurs each fall. I turned him loose in the yard to do his dirty work, and found him frolicking in the muscadine leaves out back. He was rolling around and giggling like a love-struck teenager, and I was thankful the patch of leaves weren't poison ivy. He stopped long enough to crouch in one pile of leaves in an attempt to camoflage himself. He got as low to the ground as he could, and I could hear him quietly repeating the sniper moto of "one shot-one kill". He asked if I could see him, and I told him I could not as I playfully looked around for him, similar to a parent playing hide-and-seek with a child. I called out his name several times, asking where he was. I could hear him laughing in a quiet, sinister kind of giggle.

Today was a fun day for Ozzy and I, unlike yesterday when I arrived home to a living room trashed by naughty min-pins. After we finished our game we started back toward the house. Ozzy looked up at me and said he had fun, and hoped we do this again soon. Sounds like something a kid would say, doesn't it?

Ozzy Has Had a Long Day!

My dog Ozzy is trying to sleep after a long and promiscuous Sunday. We returned from church this afternoon to find our house in disaray. While we were out Ozzy's pal Chrissy jumped up on the counter and grabbed a loaf of bread and a bag of roasted peanuts. Needless to say the party started at that point, and probably ended just before we arrived home.

Upon entering the house we discovered pieces of plastic wrapper all over the great room floor. Peanut shells were distributed on every chair and needed to be cleaned up before anyone could take a seat. I am amazed that four small dogs could devour a loaf of whole grain bread (Spazz looks like a tick about to pop). If it wasn't so comical it would be frustrating to deal with. It is particularly humorous that these little ones know they have misbehaved, and try to disappear under tables and chairs, hoping we won't notice the mountain of evidence they leave behind.

It is now early evening and Ozzy is crashed on the couch in a deep sleep. Poor thing looks like a four-legged Sleeping Beauty. The best part will be waking him up and pestering him the rest of the evening. I love listening to him whine and plead with me to leave him alone. Payback...this is gonna be fun.

Ozzy Is NOT a Good Caregiver!

I'm not sure what happened or how I contracted this little ailment, but it started yesterday and got progressively worse. Fever, headache, chills, muscle aches, all signs of some kind of flu. I have been popping tylenol and drinking Gatorade all day. It feels like my head is about to pop, and my dog Ozzy is not much help.

I received several messages from friends and family encouraging me to maintain my current treatment stategy. I even got up early to go hunting, put on a pot of coffee, sat down in my recliner while my beverage brewed, and promptly fell asleep. Two hours later Ozzy woke me up laughing in my face, calling me a whimp. He questioned my manhood in allowing a little thing like sickness to keep me out of the woods. A few minutes ago I asked Ozzy to fetch me another Gatorade out of the fridge. He said if I was a real man I would get off my keester and go get my own drink... and while I was at it I should grab milkbone dog buiscut for him.

If any of you folks ever get sick, do not expect any sympathy from Ozzy. I will get better, and will bide my time until Ozzy catches some ailment. When he does, I'll watch him writhe around like a worm on a hook, and I will remind him of today. Revenge will be sweet, it will be righteous, and it will be without mercy!

Ozzy Did It!

When we arrived home from my teenage son's football game we discovered several items either torn up or misplaced. There was also evidence of a canine presence on our kitchen table and counter. The dogs were seated in separate chairs with little halos hanging over their heads. This prompted an investigation into the mystery of the unknown culprit.

Upon questioning what happened, each dog denied any involvment. While paper towels aren't a burden to clean up, clean socks and other clothing items needed to be rewashed. Hair fibers were all brown in color, and since three of the four amigos are black and tan, that leaves one possible suspect. Ozzy is the only one that is completely brown, so all suspicions were placed on him. He denied any involvment, and claimed that the hair fibers were circumstancial. He obviously watches too much CSI, and thought he could weasel his way out of this situation by casting doubt as to his guilt. I wasn't buying it, and he knew it.

After a serious interrogation, Ozzy finally broke and confessed to the crime. His reason for committing such an offense was his disappointment in not being able to go to the game with us. His behaviour was idicative of his rebelious nature, and he was protesting the only way he knew. We decided that he would be grounded for a month. He will not be going to any football games, so this probably means more protests are forthcoming. Hell hath no fury like a small dog scorned.

Ozzy's Deer Hunter Research Continues!

We are nearly a week into Ozzy's Deer Hunter Research Project, and thus far the results are interesting. I wanted to give it a little more time, but Ozzy bugged me about checking our trail cams until I had no choice but to submit. Allowing time for subjects to infiltrate the area is a part of the study that Ozzy does not understand (he's not a patient pooch). Trail cams monitoring the mock deer rubs and scrapes yeilded fruit the first weekend via an up-close and personal photo of a set of Billy-Bob teeth and a pair of hairy notrils was too much for our little dog to resist. He hoped there would be more footage.

Ozzy and I checked another trail cam set up deeper into the timber, and we were not disappointed. If it wasn't for our new subject's camo we would have thought we caught Sasquatch on film. Ozzy said this individual, whomever he (or she) may be is nearly as fuzzy as the nasal passages caught on film earlier. The only features we could make out were a pair of beady black eyes behind a hideous set of thick-lensed glasses. Also in the picture was a buzzard who apparently gagged when this person walked under the tree limb where it sat. Of the two subjects in this photo, I concluded the human was in worse shape. In fact, this guy wasn't even phased by the bird barf. Ozzy hasn't stopped laughing long enough to express his opinion of this nasty hunter. The only words he could manage to say was that this guy flat-out stinks.!

We will continue to check our cameras as Ozzy's hunter research continues.

Deer Hunter Study, Part 2!

Last week my dog Ozzy started a study of deer hunter behaviour by selecting an area and establishing a network of fake rubs and scrapes, and then setting up trail cameras in order to record hunter activity. The area covered approximately 100 acres so Ozzy could get plenty of video footage. The cameras along the false rub lines were set to still photos, while the large mock scrapes were monitored by cameras set to record sixty seconds of intellegent hunter activity.

We rode out this afternoon to investigate one particular camera in order to get a small measure of what we could expect during the entire study period. This particular camera was set along a mock rub trail. Pictures included several birds, squirrels, a few small deer, and a huge set of tobacco-stained Billy-Bob teeth below two nostrils in need of some serious trimming. The subject was obviously sniffing around the camera. Our scientific conclusion is the location for Ozzy's research looks promising.

Ozzy: Locked Up!

My wife's Grandfather passed away early Sunday morning, so we left town to travel to the funeral. Meanwhile Ozzy and his canine cohorts were left in the care of our local dog kennel. Since the establishment charges per cage, and we have four little goofballs, we felt it would be advantageous to place them in pairs, thus paying for two instead of four. First, we felt they would keep each other company during our absence, and it would be a bit cheaper. Now don't any of you readers judge me, since I know perfectly well you have done similar things while staying at motels.

Well, the plan seemed work out fine until I received a phone call from Ozzy. He was not aware of the reason for our leaving. All he knew was they were herded into a car and hauled to the Big House. Then he gets locked in a cage without being read his rights and told what he was charged with. It took him nearly two hours to convince one of the kennel staff to allow him his "phone call".

After several attempts I was sucessful calming Ozzy down, and explained the situation. He was less sympathetic with our situation, and more irritated at his. We had him placed in the same cage with Spazz since we thought it was a better pairing. Ozzy says Spazz stinks, needs a tooth brush, and snores like a freight train. I told Ozzy we would be home soon, and until then he should try to deal with it. He promised he would, and the phone call ended.

Shortly after 10 PM the Georgia State News Agency said in a television news broadcast that there was a jail break in McDuffie County, Georgia. The four inmates were last seen headed toward Washington, GA. They are considered armed and extremely dangerous.

Deer Hunter Study!

Ozzy has been busy gathering information on the subject of Deer Hunting. He has watched several outdoor network programs to get a better understanding of this great tradition. While you may think the subject of Ozzy's study is the infamous Whitetail deer, you are mistaken. Ozzy is more fascinated by the average deer hunter, and his research will focus on hunter tactics and behaviour.

Ozzy's first step was choosing an area in which to conduct his research. Once located, Ozzy provided a list of items necessary for a successful venture. The list included a garden rake, a small spade, motion activated cameras, deer urine, and a large file. Once the items were secured, we proceeded to an area we knew hunters paid little attention to. While you may think this strange, you need to read further to find why Ozzy wanted to begin his study at this location.

First, Ozzy took the large file and created a "buck rub" on a large cedar tree in clear view of a well-travelled road to get the attention of any hunters who happened by. Next we proceeded to walk deeper into the woods stopping to create rubs every twenty feet to give the impression of a serious rub-line. We must have spent two hours marking cedar trees and saplings all over the area. Next, the rake was utilized to leave enough mock scrapes to drive even the most experienced hunter crazy. Each scrape was "doctored" with deer urine to add realism and enduce further excitment.

The finishing touch was a real stroke of genius if you ask me. Ozzy took the small spade and placed what looked like a large deer paw print impression in each scrape. One might conclude the world's largest buck was roaming in an area 100 acres in size. The scrapes were impressive enough, but the rubs on the trees would entice any hunter into believing the next world record was within reach. Hunter footage will be captured by several cameras set at either still-photos or video footage.

We left the area after spending a good part of the day setting the trap for what should be the deer hunter footage of the century. Now we wait and see what fruit our study will bear. Remember, this is Ozzy's idea.