"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"!

"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!

"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 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!

"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!

"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?"

"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"!.