"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?"

"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.

"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.

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!!!

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.

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.

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"!

"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.

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.

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!

At this time I am sitting in my outdoor lounge chair... I just hope death comes swiftly!

"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.

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.

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.!

"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".

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.

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".

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!

"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.

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.

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.

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?

Good Old Ozzy... Never a dull moment!