tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68055732139390407722024-03-08T05:45:48.644-05:00Ozzy's WorldDay to day antics of the most intellectual miniature pinscher on the planet - Ozzy Oswald.Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.comBlogger141125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-41559394625254755342013-01-22T22:54:00.001-05:002013-01-22T22:54:43.875-05:00"Poetry In Motion"!I was reading poetry to my dog Ozzy. He said it made him want to gag. Actually, it's his fault. If he hadn't sent my wife a mushy text the other day, I wouldn't have felt obligated to write her a poem (I received my inspiration in the hardware section of the local Tractor Supply). It went like this: "Roses is red, violets is blue; You and me stick together like Contact Cement All-Purpose Adhesive"! Ozzy pulled his head out of the barf bag just long enough to scream, "That doesn't even rhyme, you Idiot"!Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-43165265854285824522013-01-21T22:14:00.002-05:002013-01-21T22:14:50.913-05:00"Texting"!I am trying to teach Ozzy how to send a text message over the cell phone. His little paws make it difficult, but the little dog is coming along. The other day he sent a text message to my wife... it went something like this: "Deer Mama, win are yoo coming home? Daddee has kooked dinnur, and he maid yoo sum cough-ee and doenutts for dezert. Pleeze hurree so we can eet. Luv, Ozzee"! Do not wurry... I am werking with him on hiz spelling. It will tayke a liddle tyme to git it rite!
Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-45762092611493004002013-01-18T12:22:00.000-05:002013-01-18T12:22:14.742-05:00"Love Me Tender"!I have decided we can't watch "Major Payne" anymore. Evidently actor Daman Wayans has more influence on my dog Ozzy than I do. My wife was missing our son Jake, who is currently undergoing Army Basic Training at Ft. Leonard Wood, MO. Jake has only been gone for two weeks, so she is still adjusting to his absence. As she sat moping, little Ozzy jumped on the couch, tenderly took my wife's hand, and looked warmly into her eyes. After getting a firm grip on her pinky, he giggled and said, "Want me to show you a little trick to help take your mind off that boy"! Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-57804602522431567632012-05-09T00:08:00.001-04:002012-05-09T00:08:32.442-04:00"Ozzy's Miracle Spring Water"!Little Ozzy is at a slight disadvantage when he plays with our Doberman "Roxie". She towers over him, and although he weighs in at a mere 15 pounds, he give everything he's got trying to "bring her down". Frustrated, he recently watched some faith healing program that promised if you purchased their "Miracle Spring Water". I didn't know he ordered the stuff until the package arrived via Fed Ex earlier today. It didn't take him long to rip open the box, read the instructions, then choke down the entire contents. It has been entertaining watching him run to the back of the house and either look into the mirror or step on the scale. So far, the water has produced no results. Now he's thinking he must have done something wrong. After careful scrutiny, Ozzy has concluded that he has been ripped off (actually, he used my credit card). I asked him what he expected to happen. I didn't know he was trying to transform into a Pit-Bull. Perhaps if he clicked his heels twice, something might happen. I just hope he doesn't order a pair of ruby slippers on Ebay!Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-87992474281325420562012-05-07T22:56:00.000-04:002012-05-07T23:01:07.986-04:00"The Abyss"!One of the most fascinating pieces of literature in history is the Book of Revelation found in the Bible. The ninth chapter begins with an angel sounding off with one of the seven trumpet judgements, the fifth to be exact. At this point a star falls from heaven to the earth. This is actually an angelic being who bears a key to the Abyss, which he proceeds to open, thus unleashing a horde of hideous beings. For years I have tried to imagine this event, and couldn't come close, until earlier this evening. My son Jake dropped a plate of barbeque onto the floor. Suddenly our livingroom transformed into the bottomless pit, as it released the angriest scramble of snarling fur I've ever seen. My little canine gang lost all composure, each one violently trying to choke down more pork faster than the next... and although there are only five dogs, it seemed there was least ten. That plate of barbeque disappeared in a feeding frenzy that would have impressed any predator. Then, as suddenly as it started, the "hounds from hell" became as tame as kittens. I never thought I'd get a lesson in theology from Ozzy and company, but there's a first time for everything!Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-52967415112055652052012-05-04T10:48:00.000-04:002012-05-04T10:48:01.871-04:00"Spectacles"!Years ago I began to notice something odd, and I knew I was getting old. It became apparent when I could no longer read the names of cities on the Rand McNally Road Atlas. After a visit with an eye specialist, he said all I needed to do was purchase a cheap pair of reading glasses from the local Walgreens. Over the years I have probably lost or misplaced more pairs of glasses then I care to admit. Recently I have purchased these readers in sets of three, and no matter how much I try to keep track of them, I usually set them aside, then forget where I put them (another sign of aging). It has been somewhat humorous that my lost glasses have been reappearing lately. Now I stumble over them constantly. After feeding my dogs a couple of days ago, I heard a loud crunch, followed by a verbal tyrade by Ozzy. His speech was a bit more colorful than usual, and it became obvious why he reacted so strongly; "What idiot put a pair of eyeglasses in my dog dish?"Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-36224039846927500102012-05-01T22:57:00.000-04:002012-05-01T22:57:15.424-04:00"Promiscuous Shootin'"!No matter how hard Ozzy tried to come up with the words to describe what happened, I believe "Destry" said it best. Recently my wife applied for a concealed weapon permit so she could take walks in the local park with some kind of protection. Before she is turned loose on an unsuspecting public, she is going to undergo firearms training. We could utilize one of the programs in Augusta, but she decided her former Army infantry husband should be up to the task. Reluctantly, I accepted.
It took some time to rig targets for close-range combat live fire exercises. Ozzy volunteered to assist me, and although he knows nothing about firearms, he said he wouldn't miss this for the world. First, my wife had to become familiar with her weapon, since the sum of her knowledge was the bullet came out of the end of the barrel and into the bad guy. I have discovered that if a person is not mechanically inclined, learning the difference between semi-autos and revolvers can be a challenge. Actually learning to use the weapon in a variety of situations is time consuming, but worth the effort to make someone proficient in proper use of firearms. Realizing this was going to take longer than I thought, it is advisable to avoid distractions, ie, Ozzy. During our initial class, I had to constantly chastise Ozzy for playing with the equipment, which doubled my teaching time. Mimicing John Wayne was just one of his many antics. At one point I heard him ask "What's in here?", only to discover he was looking down the barrel of a Luger 9mm pistol. I won't even mention his picking up a round and tapping on the primer, wanting to know what would happen next. I have concluded that if Ozzy continues to be my assistant, I am going to have to re-write the infantry small arms handbook to include the "Ozzy Doctrine". Roughly translated it means "Safety Last"!.Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-34876086989997847822012-04-26T15:48:00.001-04:002012-04-26T15:51:45.899-04:00"World's Most Beautiful Woman"!When Ozzy and I take a trip to Walmart he has to go incognito; otherwise, he can't go into the store. Once inside I have to prevent him from tossing things into the cart, or scold him for making derogatory comments to fellow customers. After we finished shopping, we stood in the checkout line. As I placed items on the belt I noticed Ozzy kept staring back towards the shelves lining the isle. At first I couldn't figure out if he was looking at the multiple choices of candy, or some other item. It finally dawned on that he was checking out the magazine stand. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. The ususal celebrity romances, divorces, and diets. I did notice People Magazine voted Beyonce' the "World's Most Beautiful Woman" for 2012. Other than that, nothing Earth shattering.
On the trip home Ozzy sat silent, which is unusual. As he looked out the window I could see the inquisitive expression on his little brown face. Finally, he broke his silence, and what he said nearly caused me to go off the road. "Daddy, WHO is Beyonkey?"Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-38081104983721343622012-04-25T13:13:00.000-04:002012-04-25T13:13:21.021-04:00"Damage Control"!The "Know Your Dog" book warned this would happen. In the chapter explaining ownership of this little breed of terrier, it specifically said "Spoiling is not recommended". So why did I do it? Perhaps they shouldn't have been offered in the cudly and cute department. I just couldn't help myself. Now I'm paying the price.
Ozzy demands constant attention. The problem is my work gets in the way of my other full-time job... taking care of a spoiled rotten min-pin. He just bats those little eyes of his, and a grown man melts like a chocolate bar on a sidewalk. However, when I need to be somewhere else, the little brown dog doesn't like it, so he protests.
By the time I arrive back home after a day on the job, I will usually find a mess in the living room, or trash scatterd all over the house... Brat!
Last night I had to chew him out for another of his misbehaviour moments. Ozzy has
tried several manipulative methods in an attempt to divert blame or avoid discipline. This time he tried the "thousand yard stare".
Tomorrow I have to perform a wedding ceremony, and I'm already wondering in what way my home will be re-decorated.Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-83642904140676980942012-04-19T10:32:00.000-04:002012-04-19T10:32:41.647-04:00"Operation Fast and Furry-ous"!Ozzy and I don't just ride ANY motorcycle. When we go for a ride, we straddle a big blue Ninja ZX-14. He says this makes us one of the baddest duo on the interstate. From that standpoint, it takes serious competition to impress us. <br />
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Earlier this week we decided to hit I-20 for an incursion into Augusta. As we approached the congested city traffic, something merging onto the interstate caught our attention. I heard Ozzy screaming for me to "catch up to that thing". Weaving our way to the head of the pack, we rode up alongside a beautiful silver BMW 8i. Wow!!!<br />
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I couldn't help but admire the vehicle. It seemed more a work of art than just another sportscar. I paid little attention to the blonde chick in the passenger's seat... unfortunately Ozzy did! I gestured to the guy driving the Beemer that his car was beautiful. In return the man became angry and shook his fist at me. It took me a minute to figure out why. <br />
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Apparently Ozzy was making googly eyes and smoochy kisses to the driver's lovely companion. The little brown dog almost got me in a road-rage confrontation. What began as a show of respect quickly deteriorated into an embarrassing disaster. I actually had to pull off the interstate and scold Ozzy for his inappropriate behaviour. <br />
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Frustrated, I decided our little ride was enough for the day, and we headed toward home. Within two minutes another sportscar pulled onto the highway. This time, however, I ignored the repeated screams of "Catch up to that thing"!Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-45066376674125859882012-04-16T01:19:00.000-04:002012-04-16T01:19:47.178-04:00"Prescription For Disaster"!My dog Ozzy and I decided to take a little camping trip. We figured it was chance to do some Daddy-Dog bonding. My wife called it a camp for boys. Packing was a bit more involved for me, since Ozzy has no need to take several changes of clothes.<br />
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Our list of items included shower essentials, groceries, bug juice, and the usual camping gear most folks carry to the woods. Most of this was packed into common containers since we would be sharing our supplies. One thing I emphasized to Ozzy was the need to separate our Doctor prescribed medications. Unfortunately, Ozzy didn't get the memo, thus my current delimma.<br />
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Upon arriving at our campsite, we set up our camper, and started the charcoal for cooking a fine outdoor meal. I'm uncertain what caused my indigestion, but shortly after dinner I had need of relief. Unable to locate my reading glasses, I fumbled through my med bag and found what I thought was treatment for "heartburn". Unfortunately Ozzy put his meds in the same bag. When I found my glasses I could see the label more clearly. Instead of "heartburn" the label read "heartworm". That dang Ozzy!<br />
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At this time I am sitting in my outdoor lounge chair... I just hope death comes swiftly!Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-85027835679762898322012-04-13T10:36:00.000-04:002012-04-13T10:36:35.202-04:00"North Korean FireWerx!"The world was on the edge of it's seat (Ozzy included) at the prospect of a rocket launch by the North Koreans. We heard it everything from threats to excuses and explainations for the earth-shattering event. Was it a satellite, a peaceful mission, or a nuclear practice run? Ozzy says it's all academic at this point.<br />
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My canine pal watched as the international community weighed in. Every so often Ozzy would tell me the U.N. was threatening to issue another "revolution". I told him the correct term is "resolution"... he disagreed. He asked me if I had ever watched what transpired prior to his afternoon naps. "You mean the ridiculous circles you turn before you hit the pillow", I asked? "Exactly", he said. He understands international diplomacy better than most.<br />
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Back to the rocket launch; in short, the thing went up, the thing came down. While the world shuddered, the rocket sputtered. Now the U.N. Securtity Council is holding and emergency meeting. I asked Ozzy what "revolution" they might come up with this time. "I don't know", he said, "but if these Rocket Scientists ever decide to manufacture cars, I hope the revolution prevents the North Koreans from importing them to the U.S.!Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-30379529472493384062012-04-12T22:53:00.000-04:002012-04-12T22:53:33.200-04:00"Invitation to a Bait Ball"!My dog Ozzy and I spend quality time relaxing in the old recliner while catching some great high-def entertainment on the Plasma screen. As long as it's wholesome, we are liable to watch any kind of program, as our tastes and moods vary. This eveninings viewing choice... Animal Planet's "The Blue Planet; Seas of Life".<br />
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Sharing a peanut butter Zone bar and some high quality H2O, Ozzy and I were captivated by the sights and sounds of life in the open ocean. Things got a little crazy during the "bait ball" feeding frenzy. For those who don't know, a bait ball is a large group of small fish traveling together for protection in numbers. When the bigger fish come along, the smaller fish swarm, forming a huge ball. The bigger fish swim fast and furious into the ball, picking off the smaller fish.<br />
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As we watched, I noticed Ozzy began jerking. Somehow the episode rivaled a teen horror film. He was screaming "Get out of there", and at one point had his eyes covered..."I can't look", he said. "Tell me when it's over".<br />
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Fortunately the scene shifted to calmer and more peaceful activity. I checked to see if he was okay... he says the next Zone bar needs to be rolled into a ball, and he gets first crack!Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-39279519013220072232012-04-10T14:21:00.000-04:002012-04-10T14:21:14.354-04:00"I Had a Dream... No Kidding"!The dream I had last night is strange but true. But then again, isn't that what most dreams are? I can't tell you how many times I went to elementary school in my pajamas. I told Ozzy about it, and he insisted I share this with you.<br />
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This dream started in the usual weird sort of way, in that I was in a strange situation. Somehow I managed to find myself in a theological discussion with an unusual individual. First, his attire was similar to the old "Black Robe" missionaries of history past. He was young, laid-back, and wore a well-groomed redish colored beard. However, he sported a large, strange black hat with a little black ball on top, sort of like those on the ski caps we wear in cold weather.<br />
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During our discussion I made it clear I stood firm on the scriptural claims concerning Jesus Christ, and my position is unwavering. Then my counterpart presented his theological position. In short, he did not believe in the Deity of Christ, that the Bible is the Word of God, nor the crucifixion of Jesus. On top of that he flatly denied Jesus Christ was resurrected from the grave. <br />
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When I shared my dream with Ozzy, he just shook his little brown head. After a brief moment of thought, Ozzy said that if this guy actually believed this, then why was he wearing that stupid hat?<br />
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Good Old Ozzy... Never a dull moment!Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-31975298859610296862012-04-07T22:43:00.001-04:002012-04-07T22:50:36.339-04:00"Old School Personal Hygiene"!One of man's greatest inventions has to be toilet paper. Next to a dog like Ozzy it can be man's best friend. A reliable fixture in every modern home... until somebody forgets to replace the empty roll. Taking for granted that it will be there when that ultimate moment arrives can result in a feeling of being standed on a desolate island desperately crying out for help.<br />
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The distress call came at approximately 3:05 pm. The telephone was beyond reach, so dialing 911 was not an option. Without immediate intervention all would be lost. The party in question should have checked beforehand, but in a mother nature induced panic rushed into the fray without first assuring he had everything in order. Unfortuantely the toilet paper roll was empty, thus the cries for help from the back bathroom.<br />
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It was at this point my dog Ozzy had heard enough. "What's wrong with you people", he yelled. "Why don't you do like the rest of us... just go outside, find a spot on the lawn, grab a seat, and start dragging?"<br />
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I get what Ozzy was saying... I just wonder what he meant by "You People".Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-58351040064071094092012-04-05T21:39:00.001-04:002012-04-05T21:41:32.988-04:00"The Bavarian Effect"!I'm not sure how it happened. Perhaps my marriage to a "Harmon" (German surname) is to blame, but one day I looked around and realized all of our dogs are German breeds. This is not a bad thing, unless you allow them to get into your head.<br />
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Two nights ago walked into my home and found myself in an old Bavarian style inn surrounded by every German breed of dog I could imagine. Dauchshunds, Rotwielers, Dobermans, Min-Pins, and the like. They were all drinking German Ale, singing German songs, and playing loud German tunes that reminded me of an evening in Helen, Georgia. Add to this the fact that all these dogs were driving BMWs, Mercedes, Porsches, and VW's, and were speaking like those three little pigs in the "Shreck" stories.<br />
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Ozzy was swinging from a light fixture dressed in one of those little alpine outfits you see in the old movies, and before I realized it I was caught up in the whole affair. I soon found myself on the floor with dogs dancing around and around, laughing and saying "Yah! Yah!". Then the cuckoo clocks started to sound off... dozens of them, hundreds of them, louder and louder... stupid little yellow birds were everywhere. Just when I felt my eardrums couldn't take any more abuse, the ruckus was interupted by the thunderous roar of a saw cutting wood in a mill... and it wouldn't stop. It kept on and on... and then my living room began to fade into view. A living room... with a saw mill?<br />
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As my mind cleared, lo and behold, there was Ozzy, lying next to me on his back, snoring as loud as I have ever heard anyone do so. It was a dream, a stupid dream; or better yet, a NIGHTMARE! The dogs have finally gotten to me. Irritated, I pushed a sleepy Ozzy off the chair. "What did I do?", he asked. "Nuthin'", I said abruptly. Just make sure you sleep in another room from now on!<br />
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I need a poodle! Uh,oh, wait a minute...Poodles aren't from <br />
Germany, are they?Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-68267838048149680892012-04-02T18:32:00.001-04:002012-04-02T18:33:13.390-04:00"The Better to Hear You With, My Dear!"The commercial for the personal "sonic" hearing enhancement device was tempting. Years of military Bradley Fighting Vehicle and M-1 Abrams Tank ranges had taken their toll. Subtle hearing loss coupled with a nagging ring in my ears... this thing might help. I mean, who wouldn't want to improve thier hearing?<br />
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My dog Ozzy was chilled on the couch, and could tell I was considering picking up the phone to make a purchase. His questionalbe expression said it all. "Hey, I know you're thinking this is a dumb idea. Hearing enhancement would prevent me from saying 'Huh?' all the time". Besides, I liked the idea that I might hear what folks are saying when I walk past them (compliments like handsome, intelligent, smooth, graceful, etc.).<br />
Ozzy looked at me and shook his head. "You may not be able to listen to people's comments from a distance, but you forget I'm a dog! I KNOW what they are saying about you...I hear everything". When I asked him what he heard, his reply was "You don't want to know". After several attempts I finally slipped him a dollar bill as a bribe (after all, he's a dog; he doesn't know the difference). The pay-off worked... he relented.<br />
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"Okay, just don't shoot the messenger", he said. "Do you remember the walks we took in the park last summer? I could hear folks say things such as "That guy looks like an idiot... he probably thinks he's cool... uncoordinated oaf, big goofy ears, old man, and bald-headed geek".<br />
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I was stunned. I asked Ozzy if he was certain that's what he heard. "Hey, you get what you pay for", he said. <br />
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Perhaps I don't need those hearing aids after all.Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-30751070586158957802012-04-01T15:38:00.001-04:002012-04-01T15:40:05.592-04:00"Tour de Ozzy"!My wife and son travelling to Tifton this afternoon was no reason for Ozzy to decide it was the perfect time for a guy trip, but try telling him that. Since he has never been to Atlanta, he nagged until I relented. After all, what harm could come from a quick trip on I-20 West to the Big City? Wrong question to ask.<br />
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Since it was his idea, Ozzy "planned" our little trek, chosing to take the back-roads instead of the interstate. He wanted to drive, believing his dog tag license was for him to operate a vehicle. I didn't believe he would actually push the issue, but as I stood in the kitchen I could hear him chanting "Road Trip! Road Trip!" from the driver's seat of the truck. "Okay, Big Boy!", I said. "Give it a shot". He cranked up the vehicle, and in a lame attempt to move the gear lever to reverse, he managed to engage the wash mode on the wind shield wipers. Well, at least we'll have a clear view of the highway. That said, Ozzy switched to the passenger seat, and we were on our way.<br />
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Unable to drive, Ozzy volunteered to take charge and issue directions using a large map of the Peach State. Ten minutes later we arrived in Thomson, and when my little canine co-pilot saw the "Dairy Queen" sign, he screamed for ice cream. I should have known better. Ozzy got a huge soft-serve chocolate ice cream cone, two "Snickers" bars and a "Monster" energy drink. When we finally got on the road, it didn't take long for our excursion to unravel.<br />
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Ozzy insisted that no real road trip is conducted with the windows up. The wind gusts inside the cab were exagerated by the wind gusts outside. 10 miles out of town we ran into a swarm of bees, half of which rode with us the rest of the way. Added to this was aroma of the fresh road-kill skunk I ran over while trying to avoid getting stung. The wind was making it difficult for Ozzy to hold the map steady, and by now the ice cream was melting. It became crystal clear we needed four lanes if we were going to survive to make it home. <br />
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Just outside of Warrenton Ozzy's tasty treat dropped onto the now ragged road map. Unfazed, Ozzy licked the map and tried to give directions at the same time. Things had deteriorated quickly, and we stopped at the first gas station. Truck doors flew open, and freaked-out bees went everywhere. Regrouping at the hood of the truck, we spread out our road map. Between the bugs, hurricane force winds, and Ozzy's ice cream, the city of Atlanta was missing. The entire state of Georgia looked as though General Sherman had come through again. Patrons walked by our truck holding their noses and staring at Ozzy, thanks to the dead skunk parts steaming from the exhaust. <br />
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We planned to visit Atlanta... we made it as far as Warren County. Ozzy says the we wouldn't be in the mess were in if I hadn't gotten the bright idea to take a road trip in the first place. By the way, does anyone have any need for a few dozen shell-shocked, skunk-scented, ice cream covered bumble bees?Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-58866431516741432412012-03-28T22:38:00.001-04:002012-03-28T22:39:39.280-04:00"Mythology Ain't All It's Krackened Up to Be"!After watching the film "Clash of the Titans", my dog Ozzy went off on Greek Mythology. I listened intently as he ranted for several minutes. The following is an exerpt from Ozzy's speech.<br />
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"It's ridiculous what those poor ol' Greeks had to deal with a long time ago" he said. "Imagine putting up with a whole bunch of promiscuous deities that caused nothing but trouble. Especially Zeus, an egomaniac that couldn't leave earth chicks alone. And the brats called demigods with their freaky little powers... it's insane! Was the call to release the Kraken some sort of animal rights issue? Did they have that poor little fish monster locked up in a pet caddie, or what?"<br />
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"And who the "Hades" was "Medussa"? She'd have you speechless on the first date! The worst part is when a Greek croaked, somebody would have to place two coins on his eyeballs just to pay "Bob the Boatman" to cross the "River Stinks" just to spend eternity in an everlasting nightmare... The whole thing is enough to drive a dog insane!"<br />
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Ozzy said he's glad there ain't but one God, and He's alot nicer than those in the movie. How true, Ozzy... How true!Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-24838755671491371462012-03-25T01:08:00.000-04:002012-03-25T01:08:43.185-04:00"Too Hot to Handle"!My wife can't put her coffee down without Ozzy finding it and lapping it up. It seems he can't resist the sweet, creamy Dunkin Donuts brew. Aggravated, she decided to fix his wagon one day by substituting salt for the usual raw sugar. One sip and his face twisted like a pretzel. She thought it was funny... he did not!<br />
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Earlier this evening Ozzy was in the kitchen cooking up some revenge. My wife loves hot and spicy foods, and is especially fond of those little green jalapenos. Ozzy snatched one out of a jar and began adding additional spices and other suprises for his payback recipe (I though I heard him mention battery acid as one of the ingredients). When he was through he needed tongs to handle the finished product, which he fondly refers to as his "Doomsday Pepper"!<br />
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This should be real interesting.Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-71391891332542174672012-03-22T22:03:00.000-04:002012-03-22T22:03:31.718-04:00"Psychos R Us"!A stop at Walgreens isn't just for meds... they sell sea-salted cashews, peanuts, and the mixed variety. These snacks come in low salt as well, which is what I eat (Doctor's orders). When I get them home I have to hide them from the dogs. Otherwise, my stash disappears quickly.<br />
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Extra precautions are necessary due to my dog's uncanny ability to unscrew the lids and devour the contents. My problem is Ozzy knows my hiding places, so this trick does me little good. I thought I had finally stumped him, but yesterday I noticed my supply was running out faster than it should have been... Ozzy!<br />
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Although I had not actually seen him eating my snack, it had to be him. The answer was to watch him closely, and sure enough he found my new hiding place. But when was he eating them, and where was he stashing the goods? I tracked him to my hiding place. He was taking my goodies and hiding them in an old jewelry box. When I caught him carrying the box to his own hiding place I asked him "What's that?" His reply was "It's a nut-case!"Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-7559735062523421662012-03-21T22:34:00.001-04:002012-03-21T22:36:55.553-04:00"Dubble Bubble Trubble"!I let the canine crowd out for their evening outdoor romp. Everything was fine until they came back inside the house... we all caught it at the same time. "One of ya'll stinks", my wife said, holding her nose. After the others were eliminated, Ozzy was the stink-bug. I said he didn't know how it happened, but his cohorts let the cat out of the bag... it was the old dog rolling in a dead animal trick.<br />
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I started running the bath water, and Ozzy asked if he could have a bubble bath. I was considering a Pine Sol scrubbing, but gave in after he gave me the "sad eyes". My wife brought her luxury lavendar scented relaxation therapy bubble bath bottle to me, and I poured it in... perhaps a little too much. Ozzy dove in like a hyperactive child on raw sugar. Splash!<br />
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Forgetting the towel, I instructed Ozzy to behave himself while I grabbed one from the closet. When I returned to the bathroom he had already made a Santa Claus hat and bubbly beard. "Ho! Ho! Ho!", he yelled. <br />
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Yes, Ozzy was having a blast, and for a moment that horrible odor was gone. Unfortunately, the relaxation portion of the bubble bath worked all too well. A handfull of strange bubbles suddenly appeared... and I suddenly left the room!<br />
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I think I'll give it a few minutes!Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-1210232527154893582012-03-20T22:33:00.000-04:002012-03-20T22:33:54.378-04:00"Ter-Kee See-zun"!This post's title says it all. Ozzy heard through the grapevine that Georgia's Turkey season opens this Saturday. Being the hunter he is, Ozzy is watching every turkey hunting program on the outdoor channels. He's even been strutting around the living room like a gobbler.<br />
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Even more interesting was his first reaction when he saw one of these magnificient birds on the big screen. He swore it was an overgrown chicken. After a heated discussion Ozzy finally conceded that I was correct (a first). Shortly after this he strolled into the kitchen and scribbled "Ter-kee See-zun on the March calendar... brilliant!<br />
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If you are searching for someone to prosecute for Ozzy's spelling prowess, don't look my direction. Truth is, he watches too many of those "Chick Fil-a" commercials... so you can blame those blasted cows!<br />
those blasted cows!Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-24550827512515552072012-03-15T22:47:00.001-04:002012-03-15T22:52:44.200-04:00"Battery Terminal Generation"!I was desperate. My motorcycle battery expired, thus I needed a replacement. The only recourse I had was to purchase one from WalMart. It was late evening as I arrived at a local store. <br />
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Upon reaching the isle I observed two young men searching through the motorcycle battery boxes. I thought I observed one of them taking items and concealing them in his closed hand. They left right after I reached their location. Unable to prove anything was taken, I took my time and found a replacement. I purchased the battery and traveled home.<br />
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My plan was to assemble the battery and charge it overnight. When I pulled the battery out of the box, I discovered important items were missing. The next day I returned to WalMart, and Customer Service allowed me to obtaing the missing items from the box of the same battery model. Once again I arrived home, and the items did not match my battery.<br />
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By this time Ozzy was upset. He wanted to go for a ride. He pondered the idea that theives were stealing and switching motorcycle battery parts, thus leaving honest customers with mix-and-match batteries. At this point he threatened to make a motorcyclist voodoo doll to exact revenge. "May all thier motorcycles die on a desolate highway on a hot day with no water, and absolutely NO cell phone signal (Do you hear me now?)!"<br />
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This is Ozzy's curse. All you theiving "Squids" (Squirrely Kid On a Motorcycle) beware. Ozzy's curse is upon you!Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6805573213939040772.post-86823035481501657032012-03-14T12:52:00.000-04:002012-03-14T12:52:52.759-04:00"Boogie Nights"!Lately my dogs have been playing some sort of "Musical Bowls" during their mealtime. I have to keep Roxie and Spazz away from the others so they can eat peacefully. One evening, after filling the dog's bowls, I served my family some good old home made vegetable beef soup. What happened next will live in our household lore for generations to come.<br />
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Ozzy was sitting on the couch as I was filling his dish. Fearing one of the others would get to his groceries before he did, Ozzy jumped face first into his bowl. Unfortunately he managed to get a dry dog food pellet stuck in his nostril. This sudden intruder sent him into a sneezing and coughing fit. When he gave the universal choking signal, Roxie tried the Heimlich manuever, but to no avail.<br />
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Unable to deal with this obstruction, Ozzy finally had all he could take. Placing his paw on the opposite nostril, he gave a sudden, violent blow. The pellet flew out of his nose, bounced off the cuckoo clock, and landed in one of the soup bowls.<br />
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It wasn't until we started eating that somebody said the meal felt more like Captain Crunch than regular soup... Yuck!Ozzy's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16735499230202938226noreply@blogger.com0