Good lord what a fat dog

Meet Moses, our foster dog. His owner died and the lab rescue folks needed a place for him to stay and we said OK.

We were told that he weighs 92 pounds and has arthritis and needs ear medicine and is depressed. I know how he feels, being a bit overweight myself and having all kinds of aches and pains. Who wouldn't be depressed?

Actually, he seems quite happy to us. He loves everyone. Wants to jump in the car and ride every time we go out in the front yard.

Compared to our granddog, Princess Buttercup, he is rather comatose.

We've been walking him several times a day and feeding him very lightly. I bet if he dropped a few pounds, that arthritis would clear right up.

Moses likes cats we are told, but you wouldn't know that by the reaction of our cats. They have all locked themselves in various rooms upstairs and refuse to come down. There is one crunching food under the sofa right now, after Chris kicked her out of his room.

Tippy has just come out from under the sofa to get a look at the large, panting behemoth sleeping in the middle of her playground. This should be interesting.

College Boy Comes Home

We've had our college boy home for a week now. Things have been pretty chill. He seems to be handling the lifestyle change OK. It only took 4 days to do all the laundry. We haven't figured out yet what food to buy and how much. I hope we will get it right soon.

I noticed a barricade of shoe and other boxes in front of his door. Then I noticed that all of his pillows and blankets and sheets were in the laundry room. Hmmm I thought. This can't be good. Better investigate.

I stood in front of the barricade when the door was open and leaned into the room. "What's up with the boxes?", I inquired in a non-scolding voice. "Don't want those cats in here." The feral kittens I presume. "One of them pooped on my bed." "And you had to take all the pillows off, too?" "Yes, he peed too." Oh dear. "It was Tux", he said. I said maybe it was Pepper, who has pooped under our bed a couple of times to punish us for bringing those horrid kittens into the house. No, he said, Tux was in here for a long time with the door closed. "I'm sorry about that. You sure the cats won't just hop over these boxes?" Grrrr.

It took another 3 days to do all of the bed-related laundry.

Tonight Paul made cheeseburgers for him. "Mom, where's the ketchup?" Hmmm, that might be a problem. "Bottom door shelf", I said hopefully.

He's in his room packing now. Life is better in Blacksburg where they have an unlimited supply of ketchup.

Politics and World Affairs

are not covered by this blog.

Tippy approached me about getting into the blog scene. "How do I get started?", she said.

Here are two tips. Don't sit on the computer. Get some thumbs so you can type.


Often when I work on my computer, Tippy helps and with her help I have recently sent out a number of interesting messages. Samples:

"I hope to see you soon.

Janet2222222222222222222222"

And

"Please let me know how much it will cosm548233 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx kkky34567"

Tippy likes to pick a letter or number and really let it have a star turn. Kind of like Sesame Street.

Right now I am watching Washington Journal on C-Span. This is the show where a question is given for callers to comment on. Questions such as should Guantanamo be closed, should GM be bailed out, should there be an investigation of torture, what kind of dog should the Obamas get? Some of the callers are so stupid that you have to wonder how they dialed the phone. Today's topic is the White House Correspondent's dinner last night. It's hard to take seriously any caller who contends that our president has no sense of humor. Dang, that's why I voted for him. Anybody who can say "wassup homey" and look and sound so good saying it is OK by me.

hold on, Tippy wants to say something:

ddjkajwfih238y52ym28yt3q8rfkvnjujfehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhjfQOD

sEE YOU LATER HOMIES

Tux Steps Out

oh yeah, I'd call this progress.