Hello and welcome back to the wonderful world of the Dogpound. I went down to the basement yesterday and I was hit with a...

Hello and welcome back to the wonderful world of the Dogpound. I went down to the basement yesterday and I was hit with a terrible smell. I mean it was bad. I did a quick search for the dead bodies, but the smell was so prevalent I could not zero in on a specific location for the smell. Not finding anything, I gave the basement a full barrage of Febreze and let it sit for a day. The next day was no better, so I opened up the basement patio doors and turned the furnace fan on to try and get the smell out of the house.

I even went out and turned the propane tank off just in case there was a gas leak. I head upstairs and hear this banging noise. I go into the kitchen and there’s a bird trying to get out of the house… the hard way. Now, this bird had to really want to get into my house because he would have had to come in the patio door, make a sharp left turn toward the basement steps…make another sharp right turn…go up a flight of stairs…then in the hall way make a sharp left…then a sharp right…then another sharp left to arrive in the kitchen. You would think he would need a GPS to accomplish all of that! So I get a towel and proceed to try and hunt down the little guy before he breaks his neck or wing. I got him cornered and covered him with the towel…but before I could gather him in, he would find a little hole and escape.

So the chase moved from the kitchen, to the dining room, and then down the hall into the utility room. This was ideal, since I could close the door going into the house and open the door leading into the garage. With a bit more prodding, he finally took the hint and escaped to freedom. That is not the end of the invasion of the birds. I left the house for a while…and when I pulled into the garage…guess what…there was another bird banging his head on the window. A different bird…but still the same problem. Now, with the garage door wide open…you would think this was a piece of cake. I get a mop handle and flush him from the window, and instead of flying out this huge opening, he decides to settle in on top of the garage door. Oh, come on! Really?! I punched the door opener to make it move a bit, and the bird finally came down from his perch and allowed me the opportunity to herd him into the open skies. Yes! Lesson learned…keep the doors closed!

“Birds sing after a storm; why shouldn’t people feel as free to delight in whatever sunlight remains to them?”
– Rose Kennedy

JAR 47
A new doctor had arrived in town. He could cure anything and anybody. Everyone was amazed with what he could do – everyone except for grouchy Mr. Thompson, the town skeptic.
Grumpy old Mr. Thompson went to visit this “miracle doctor” to prove that he wasn’t anybody special. When it was time for his appointment, he told the doctor, “Hey, doc, I’ve lost my sense of taste. I can’t taste nothing, so what are you going to do?” The doctor scratched his head and mumbled to himself a little, then told Mr. Thompson, “What you need is jar number 47.”
So the doctor brought the jar out, opened it, and told Mr. Thompson to taste it. He tasted it and immediately spit it out “This is gross!” he yelled. “Looks like I just restored your sense of taste, Mr. Thompson,” said the doctor. So Mr. Thompson went home very mad. One month later, Mr. Thompson decide to go back to the doctor and try once again to expose him as a fake, by complaining of a new problem. “Doc,” he started, “I can’t remember anything!”
Thinking he had the doctor stumped now, he waited as the doctor scratched his head, mumbled to himself a little, and told Mr. Thompson, “What you need is jar number 47, it’s – But before the doctor could finish his sentence, Mr. Thompson was cured, and – ran out of the room.
That is all I have today. As always, be good, do good, play safe, and remember: birds of the same feather do not belong in your house. JR