Friday, February 29, 2008



Third day in a row for this shit. It is 7:06 a.m. and 29.7 degrees. Dog and Son asleep.

Idol cut Alaina Whitaker, our 16 year old pick to take it all. The masses are asses!




Lost is now full-blown time travel!



What is Butt Dust?

What, you ask, is "Butt Dust"? Read on and you'll discover the joy in a
child's sincere originality. No adult is this creative!!

JACK (age 3) was watching his Mom breast-feeding his new baby sister.
After a while he asked: "Mom why have you got two? Is one for hot and
one for cold milk?"

MELANIE (age 5) asked her Granny how old she was. Granny replied she
was so old she didn't remember any more. Melanie said, "If you don't
remember you must look in the back of your panties. Mine say five to
six "

STEVEN (age 3) hugged and kissed his Mom good night. "I love you so
much that when you die I'm going to bury you outside my bedroom

BRITTANY (age 4) had an earache and wanted a pain killer. She tried in
vain to take the lid off the bottle. Seeing her frustration, her Mom
explained it was a child-proof cap and she'd have to open it for her.
Eyes wide with wonder, the little girl asked: "How does it know it's

SUSAN (age 4) was drinking juice when she got the hiccups. "Please don't
give me this juice again," she said, "It makes my teeth cough."

DJ (age 4) stepped onto the bathroom scale and asked: "How much do I

MARC (age 4) was engrossed in a young couple that were hugging and
kissing in a restaurant. Without taking his eyes off them, he asked his
dad: "Why is he whispering in her mouth?"

CLINTON (age 5) was in his bedroom looking worried. When his Mom asked
what was troubling him, he replied, "I don't know what'll happen with this
bed when I get married. How will my wife fit in?"

JAMES (age 4) was listening to a Bible story. His dad read: "The man
named Lot was warned to take his wife and flee out of the city but his
wife looked back and was turned to salt." Concerned, James asked: "What
happened to the flea?"

TAMMY (age 4) was with her mother when they met an elderly, rather
wrinkled woman her Mom knew. Tammy looked at her for a while and then asked,
"Why doesn't your skin fit your face?"

The Sermon I think this Mom will never forget.... this particular
Sunday sermon..."Dear Lord," the minister began, with arms extended
toward heaven and a rapturous look on his upturned face. "Without you,
we are but dust..." He would have continued but at that moment my very
obedient daughter who was listening leaned over to me and asked quite
audibly in her shrill little four year old girl voice, "Mom, what is
butt dust?"


go gators!!

Thursday, February 28, 2008


Just browsing thru cache pages, here is the write-up for ISQ #156:

Welcome to Sidney Cemetery, up on the hill. You are in Jackson Twp., Koskiusko County. Set a spell on the picnic table, but don't think you're going to haul it away with you unless you brought boltcutters...Close your eyes and feel the hot tropical sun on your face, the gentle breeze of the trade winds, and the smell of the cocoanut palms...WAKE UP! You're in INDIANA and it's cold out here! We suspect there are a number of (now) unmarked graves in this place based on the layout. While we were here, the high-tension lines were crackling pretty loud. That's what they do when there are UFO's around, so we didn't tarry long. We don't mind visits to the Mother Ship, but those examinations can be brutal. (There is no more room in Patrick's skull for any more alien implants--our local vet took a couple out of him through his dog ears and sent them to the government (dumb!). He did an X-ray of Patrick's head and said it was filled mostly with fluid and cartiledge. He said his actual brain, when he found it, was shrunken to the size of a pea. HE said it was big enuff to control things like breathing, and heartbeat and digestion, but he couldn't see how it was big enuff to control much of anything else, like coordinating four legs to walk, or interpreting vision. Anyway he sent the pics to the Vet School at Purdue, and they called and wanted to do an autopsy on him. I told them he wasn't DEAD yet, and they said it didn't matter--with such a small brain he wouldn't feel a thing. They're ghouls. I'm sure not going to let them cut up my little buddy--At least not unless they pony up a whole lot more money than they were offering. Anyway, it sure does explain why he's so STOOPID! ...)Luckily for us the truck started and we were able to beat a hasty retreat!

Sidney, Indiana (Pop.168) is located on the Rail Road and is located about 6.2 miles from South Whitley. The elevation is 976 ft. above mean sea level, the average household size is 2.71 people and .19 dogs and the population is 98% Caucasion and 1% Hawaiian (I'm not making this up--otherwise how would I possible know how to spell "Hawaiian"--It's not like you can look THAT up in your dictionary...)

A luau (Hawaiian lu'au) is a traditional Hawaiian feast that normally features foods such as poi, kalua pig (pork prepared in an imu, or earth oven), poke, and lomi salmon, among others. Hawaii residents often hold luaus to celebrate special occasions, such as a child's first birthday. Commercial operations in Hawaii also specialize in luaus that cater to visitors to the Islands.

Among the Hawaiian people, it was the custom to celebrate auspicious occasions with a feast. Called the aha'aina, the feast had spiritual significance; it was thought that they were sharing a meal with the gods. In ancient times, men and women could not eat together, and certain foods such as pork, bananas, and coconut were forbidden to women. In 1819, King Kamehameha II abolished the kapu (taboo) system by partaking in a feast with women, thus severing the spiritual connection of the aha'aina.

The term lu'au began to be used in the mid-1800s to refer to what was the aha'aina. It took its present name from a dish made from young taro leaves and meat or seafood, baked in coconut milk.


It is 8:17 a.m. and Patrick is in bed with Junior. It is 13.3 degrees.

More later, maybe.


These are from a book called Disorder in the American courts, and are things people actually said in court, word for word, taken down and now published by court reporters who had the torment of staying calm while these exchanges were actually taking place.

ATTORNEY: Are you sexually active?
WITNESS: No, I just lie there.

ATTORNEY: What gear were you in at the moment of the impact?
WITNESS: Gucci sweats and Reeboks.

ATTORNEY: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?
ATTORNEY: And in what ways does it affect your memory?
WITNESS: I forget.
ATTORNEY: You forget? Can you give us an example of something you forgot?

ATTORNEY: What was the first thing your husband said to you that morning?
WITNESS: He said, 'Where am I, Cathy?'
ATTORNEY: And why did that upset you?
WITNESS: My name is Susan!

ATTORNEY: Do you know if your daughter has ever been involved in voodoo?
WITNESS: We both do.
WITNESS: Yes, voodoo.

ATTORNEY: Now doctor, isn't it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn't know about it until the next morning?
WITNESS: Did you actually pass the bar exam?
ATTORNEY: The youngest son, the twenty-year-old, how old is he?
WITNESS: Uh, he's twenty.

ATTORNEY: Were you present when your picture was taken?
WITNESS: Are you kidding me?

ATTORNEY: So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?
ATTORNEY: And what were you doing at that time?
WITNESS: Uh.... I was gettin' laid!

ATTORNEY: She had three children, right?
ATTORNEY: How many were boys?
ATTORNEY: Were there any girls?
Are you kidding me? Your Honour, I think I need a different attorney. Can I get a new attorney?

ATTORNEY: How was your first marriage terminated?
WITNESS: By death.
ATTORNEY: And by whose death was it terminated?
Now whose death do you suppose terminated it?

ATTORNEY: Can you describe the individual?
WITNESS: He was about medium height and had a beard.
ATTORNEY: Was this a male or a female?

ATTORNEY: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice which I sent to your attorney?
WITNESS: No, this is how I dress when I go to work.

ATTORNEY: Doctor, how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people?
WITNESS: All my autopsies are performed on dead people. Would you like to rephrase that?

ATTORNEY: ALL your responses MUST be oral, OK? What school did you go to?

ATTORNEY: Do you recall the time that you examined the body?
WITNESS: The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.
ATTORNEY: And Mr. Denton was dead at the time?
WITNESS: No, he was sitting on the table wondering why I was doing an autopsy on him!

ATTORNEY: Are you qualified to give a urine sample?
Huh....are you qualified to ask that question?

And the best for last:

ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?
ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?
ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing?
ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?
ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
I see, but could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?
WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.

go gators

Wednesday, February 27, 2008


It is 6:18 a.m. and 13.5 degrees. Patrick got up and returned to bed with Junior. High speed is down.


Crack Found on Governor's Daughter
[Imagine that!]

Something Went Wrong in Jet Crash, Expert Says
[No, really?]

Police Begin Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers
[Now that's taking things a bit far!]

Is There a Ring of Debris around Uranus?
[Not if I wipe thoroughly!]

Panda Mating Fails; Veterinarian Takes Over
[What a guy!]

Miners Refuse to Work after Death
[Those-good-for-nothin' lazy so-and-so!]

Juvenile Court to Try Shooting Defendant
[See if that works any better than a fair trial!]

War Dims Hope for Peace
[I can see where it might have that effect!]

If Strike Isn't Settled Quickly, It May Last Awhile
[You think?]

Cold Wave Linked to Temperatures
[Who would have thought!]

Enfield ( London) Couple Slain; Police Suspect Homicide
[They may be on to something!]

Red Tape Holds Up New Bridges
[You mean there's something stronger than duct tape?]

Man Struck By Lightning: Faces Battery Charge
[he probably IS the battery charge!] < /P>

New Study of Obesity Looks for Larger Test Group
[Weren't they fat enough?!]

Astronaut Takes Blame for Gas
in Spacecraft
[That's what he gets for eating those beans!]

Kids Make Nutritious Snacks
[Taste like chicken?]

Local High School Dropouts Cut in Half
[Chainsaw Massacre all over again!]

Hospitals are Sued by 7 Foot Doctors
[Boy, are they tall!]

And the winner is....

Typhoon Rips Through
Cemetery; Hundreds Dead


Tuesday, February 26, 2008



Patrick has almost 600 doggy friends on Facebook--here are two.

It is 6:34 a.m. and 31.9 degrees out with fresh snow on the ground. Patrick got up and went to bed with Junior.

High Speed is down. Dial up is very slow. Took over two minutes just to get here from desktop (two mouse clicks). Can't even get to email.

More later, maybe.

One year ago today:

It is 7:36 a.m. and 32.0 degrees out and the little white pooper dog is in my lap.

Two years ago today:

It's 6:33 a.m. and Junior and Patrick are downstairs watching videos/sleeping on the couch. Did I tell you Patrcik achieved a personal best 83 times peeing on the trail on our hike yesterday?


GOD's Busy
If you don't know GOD, don't make stupid remarks!!!!!!!
A United States Marine was attending some college courses between assignments.
He had completed missions in Iraq and Afghanistan
One of the courses had a professor who was an avowed atheist and a
member of the ACLU. One day the professor shocked the class when he
came in. He looked to the ceiling and flatly stated, "God, if you are
real, then I want you to knock me off this platform. I'll give you
exactly 15 minutes." The lecture room fell silent. You could hear a
pin drop. Ten minutes went by and the professor proclaimed, "Here I am
God. I'm still waiting."
It got down to the last couple of minutes when the Marine got out of
his chair, went up to the professor, and cold-cocked him; knocking him
off the platform. The professor was out cold. The Marine went back to
his seat and sat there, silently. The other students were shocked and
stunned and sat there looking on in silence.
The professor eventually came to, noticeably shaken, looked at the
Marine and asked, "What the heck is the matter with you? Why did you
do that?"
The Marine calmly replied, "God was too busy today protecting
America's soldiers who are protecting your right to say stupid stuff
and act like an idiot.
So, He sent me."


No. Geocacher Caches Found Caches Hidden * Total Caches * Comment
1 King Boreas 1367 1606 2973
2 OzGuff 3471 1054 4525 Western North Carolina
3 AD0OR 5140 806 5946
4 IceCreamMan 4540 771 5311
5 geogold 2369 680 3049
6 retiredprof 5738 673 6411
7 CCCooperAgency 22543 663 23206
8 Wheeler Dealers 1869 627 2496
9 DrHogg 2336 560 2896
10 SixDogTeam 1258 550 1808

Go Gators

Monday, February 25, 2008













It is 7:10 a.m. and 31.1 degrees. Patrick got up with me and went to bed with Junior.

Carmen Diaz and Diane Lane made all the other ladies at the Oscars look bad...

Had a draft PBR Saturday at BWW--still the finest Beer in the World...

Gators didn't lose since they didn't play. Go Vols! good job!!!!

February 10, 2008 -- 40 years ago, American and South Vietnamese forces crushed North Vietnam's Tet Offensive; a simultaneous military attack and guerrilla uprising aimed at seizing the northern provinces of South Vietnam. Yet the communists succeeded in turning military disaster into a propaganda victory. See Arthur Herman's new article in the Wall Street Journal, The Lies of Tet.


It is 8:38 a.m. and grey and 37.0 degrees F. and 25 knot wind. Patrick is sleeping at my feet on his afghan in front of the space heater. Last night an ice storm blew thru here. Sounded like a freakin' freight train (NOT a passenger train.) Ice was tinkling against the window panes. Pretty scary. Patrick was his usual log-self. We have six antique HUGE Elm trees around the house. The one in the back yard let go with a big limb sometime in the night. So I've got some hard labor ahead of me when it warms up a bit. Thank the Good Lord it didn't land on the roof. I rode in a 2000 Trans Am WS6 yesterday. Massive horsepower!!! Pewter in color. (Only 6,000 built; with corvette motor). Today's quote: "The essence of war is violence. Moderation in war is imbecility." --Lord Fisher


It's 7:44 p.m. and Junior just went into town "real quick" and Patrick is here with me.

Junior has been practicing with his new acoustic/electric guitar on the internet this afternoon. Mudbelly and I went on a long long hike in the woods.

At 10:00 a.m. the US Supreme Court issued a writ of certiori in a case involving the constitutionality of Partial Birth abortions. Several Appeals court circuits have blackballed it.

Looks like things are looking up for the anti infanticide crowd...


Subject: Bar Stool Economics
> Suppose that every day, ten men go out for beer and the bill for all
> ten comes to $100. If they paid their bill the way we pay our taxes,
> it would go something like this:
> The first four men (the poorest) would pay nothing.
> The fifth would pay $1.
> The sixth would pay $3.
> The seventh would pay $7.
> The eighth would pay $12.
> The ninth would pay $18.
> The tenth man (the richest) would pay $59.
> So, that's wha t they decided to do.
> The ten men drank in the bar every day and seemed quite happy with
> the arrangement, until one day, the owner threw them a curve. "Since
> you are all such good customers," he said, "I'm going to reduce the
> cost of your daily beer by $20." Drinks for the ten now cost just $80.
> The group still wanted to pay their bill the way we pay our taxes so
> the first four men were unaffected. They would still drink for free.
> But what about the other six men - the paying customers? How could
> they divide the $20 windfall so that everyone would get his 'fair
> shar e?' They realized that $20 divided by six is $3.33. But if they
> subtracted that from everybody's share, then the fifth man and the
> sixth man would each end up being paid to drink his beer. So, the bar
> owner suggested that it would be fair to reduce each man's bill by
> roughly the same amount, and he proceeded to work out the amounts
> each should pay.
> And so:
> The fifth man, like the first four, now paid nothing (100% savings).
> The sixth now paid $2 instead of $3 (33%savings).
> The seventh now pay $5 instead of $7 (28%savings).
> The eighth now paid $9 instead of $12 (25% savings).
> The ninth now paid $14 instead of $18 (22% savings).
> The tenth now paid $49 instead of $59 (16% savings).
> Each of the six was better off than before. And the first four
> continued to drink for free. But once outside the restaurant, the men
> began to compare their savings.
> "I only got a dollar out of the $20,"declared the sixth man. He
> pointed to the t enth man," but he got $10!" "Yeah, that's right,"
> exclaimed the fifth man. "I only saved a dollar, too. It's unfair
> that he got ten times more than I!" "That's true!!" shouted the
> seventh man. "Why should he get $10 back when I got only two? The
> wealthy get all the breaks!" "Wait a minute," yelled the first four
> men in unison. "We didn't get anything at all. The system exploits the
> poor!"
> The nine men surrounded the tenth and beat him up.
> The next night the tenth man didn't show up for drinks, so the nine
> sat down and had beers without him. But when it came time to pay the
> bill, they discovered something important They didn't have enough
> money among all of them for even half of the bill!
> And that, ladies and gentlemen, journalists and college professors,
> is how our tax system works. The people who pay the highest taxes get
> the most benefit from a tax reduction. Tax them too much, attack them
> for being wealthy, and they j ust may not show up anymore. In fact,
> they might start drinking overseas where the atmosphere is somewhat
> friendlier.
> David R. Kamerschen, Ph.D.
> Professor of Economics
> University of Georgia
> For those who understand, no explanation is needed. For those who do > not understand, no explanation is possible.

Sunday, February 24, 2008


It is 5:50 a.m. and 17.4 degrees out. Patrick and Junior are sleeping.

Special report on Chicago later.


How to wash a toilet

This was simply too much of a time saver not to share it with you.

1. Put both lids of the toilet up

And add 1/8 cup of pet shampoo to the water in the bowl.

2. Pick up the cat and soothe him while you carry him towards the bathroom.

3. In one smooth movement, put the cat in the toilet and close the lid.

You may need to stand on the lid.

4. The cat will self agitate and make ample suds.

; &nbs p;
Never mind the noises that come from the toilet, the cat is actually enjoying this.

5. Flush the toilet three or four times.

This provides a 'power-wash' and rinse'.

6. Have someone open the front door of your home.

Be sure that there are no people between the bathroom and the front door.

7. Stand behind the toilet as far as you can, and quickly lift the lid.

8. The cat will rocket out of the toilet, streak through the bathroom,

And run outside where he will dry himself off.

9. Both the commode and the cat will be sparkling clean.


The Dog

go gators

Friday, February 22, 2008



It is 7:00a.m. and 22.5 degrees outside. Patrick got up and went back to bed with Junior.


IF you ever doubted it, now you know the New York Times is totally devoid of any character, ethics or integrity. John McCain will survive this, as it will backfire on this traitorous, filthy rag. Even Yellow Journalism had an idealistic agenda, but these pukes at the Times are just slime.

Hussein O'bama's speech giving style is exactly the same as many black televangelists--and he's good at it. The problem is, he's not sincere--he's a bloody BOLSHEVIK.

Patrick is a mean little dog, who loves dog cookies and sleeping under the covers. He has to know where I am and what I'm doing every minute he's awake-even when he's mad at me. I have no idea why.

The Marines in Belgrade should have machine-gunned those drunken commie serbs.

Screw the Russians.

We like Cindy McCain and like her, love America. We detest Michelle O'Bama, and unlike her, are PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN!!

Petroleum is not dead dinosaur juice. That's just silly!

Nice job, Navy, on shooting down the satellite!!!

"Global Warming" is not caused by Human Activity, Al.

CNN sucks

Chelsea Handler is hot.

Stupid assholes voted one of our girls off Idol.


White Roses

I was walking around in a Target store, when I saw a Cashier hand this little boy some money back.

The boy couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 years old.

The Cashier said, "I'm sorry, but you don't have enough money to buy this doll."

Then the little boy turned to the old woman next to him: ''Granny,are you sure I don't have enough money?''

The old lady replied: ''You know that you don't have enough money to buy this doll, my dear.''

Then she asked him to stay there for just 5 minutes while she went to look a round. She left quickly.

The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand.

Finally, I walked toward him and I asked him who he wished to give this doll to.

"It's the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for Christmas.

She was sure that Santa Claus would bring it to her."

I replied to him that maybe Santa Claus would bring it to her after all, and not to worry.

But he replied to me sadly. "No, Santa Claus can't bring it to her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mommy so that she can give it to my sister when she goes there."

His eyes were so sad while saying this. "My Sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mommy is going to see God very soon too, so I thought that she could take the doll with her to give it to my sister."

My heart nearly stopped.

The little boy looked up at me and said: "I told daddy to tell mommy not to go yet. I need her to wait until I come back from the mall."

Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he was laughing. He then told me "I want mommy to take my picture with her so she won't forget me."

"I love my mommy and I wish she doesn't have to leave me, but daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister."

Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly.

I quickly reached for my wallet and said to the boy. "Suppose we check again, just in case you do have enough money for the doll?"

"OK" he said, "I hope I do have enough." I added some of my money to his with out him seeing and we started to count it. There was enough for the doll and even some spare money.

The little boy said: "Thank you God for giving me enough money!"

Then he looked at me and added, "I asked last night before I went to sleep for God to make sure I had enough money to buy this doll, so that mommy could give It to my sister. He heard me!"

"I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mommy, but I didn't dare to ask God for too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll and a white rose."

"My mommy loves white roses."

A few minutes later, the old lady returned and I left with my basket.

I finished my shopping in a totally different state from when I started.

I couldn't get the little boy out of my mind.

Then I remembered a local news paper article two days ago, which mentioned a drunk man in a truck, who hit a car occupied by a young woman and a little girl.

The little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a critical state. The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the life-sustaining machine, because the young woman would not be able to recover from the coma.

Was this the family of the little boy?

Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the news paper that the young woman had passed away.

I couldn't stop myself as I bought a bunch of white roses and I went to the funeral home where the body of the young woman was exposed for people to see and make last wishes before her burial.

She was there, in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rose in her hand with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her chest.

I left the place, teary-eyed, feeling that my life had been changed for ever.. The love that the little boy had for his mother and his sister is still, to this day, hard to imagine.

And in a fraction of a second, a drunk driver had taken all this away from him..

Now you have 2 choices:

1) Repost this message, or

2) Ignore it as if it never touched your heart.

The quote of the month is by Jay Leno: "With hurricanes, tornados, fires out of control, mud slides, flooding, severe thunderstorms tearing up the country from one end to another, and with the threat of bird flu and terrorist attacks, "Are we sure this is a good time to take God out of the Pledge of Allegiance?"

For those who prefer to think that God is not watching over us.... go ahead and delete this. For the rest of us.. pass this on.

Ephesians 4:26 (KJV) Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath:



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Thursday, February 21, 2008



It is 7:36 a.m. and 12.3 degrees out. Patrick got up and went back to bed with Rick, Junior.

Congratulations to the Florida Gators for winning a Mens Basketball Game!!!!! Go Gators!

Watched some of the Lunar eclipse Last Nite and was less than overwhelmed...

OK so dogs, there is actually one guy in the final 24 of Idol that we could vote for. Who cares?

Here is our list of the 12 gals in our order of who we like:


CARLY SMITHSON may actually have the best voice among the girls, but we consider her just a tad TOO PROFESSIONAL considering she's already released a record under a legitimate she's out of it for us. I mean are we going to let Britney Spears in the competition if her label drops her???

The Old Man and the Dog
by Catherine Moore

"Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!" My father yelled at me.

"Can't you do anything right?"
Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle.

"I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving." My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.

Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil.

What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.

The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.

Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived.

But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.

The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article." I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.

I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.

I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement.

"He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly.

As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. "You mean you're going to kill him?"

"Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog.."

I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll take him," I said.

I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch.

"Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!" I said excitedly.

Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.

Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples.

"You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!" Dad ignored me. "Did you hear me, Dad?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate.

We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw.

Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.

It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.

Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night.. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.

Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.

The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers."

"I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said.

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article...

Cheyenne's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . .his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.
Life is too short for drama & petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly.
Live While You Are Alive. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every
opportunity. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.


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