Hello and welcome back to the wonderful world of the Dogpound. Max is making a slow recovery from his Max Attack that happened a few weeks ago. He has his decent days (for a dog that is over 14 years old), and he has his bad days when he is a bit disoriented, and his ability to stay upright is a challenge. Since I live close to work, I can come home at lunch time to check on Max and make sure he is OK. I have a walk out basement, so he stays down there during the day. That way, if he has any accidents, they are much easier to clean up and, during the summer, it is much cooler for him. The other day, I came home, made myself a small bowl of fresh strawberries and yogurt for lunch, and sat on the patio soaking up some nice sun rays while Max stretched his legs. I finished my bowl and put it down on a little table beside me. Max wandered over for a head scratch and started to sniff at my bowl. Normally I would tell him to leave it alone, but, since he has been having a hard time of late, I figured I would let him lick the bowl clean. I had left my spoon in the bowl, so Max was licking away with the spoon clattering around the bowl as he tried to get every bit of the leftover yogurt. Then he did a crazy thing (I attribute this to all the meds he is taking…I think they are messing with his head) he grabbed the spoon and walked off with it. I do not know if he thought it was a bone or what. It had a little yogurt on it but not enough to hide the taste of metal. So I had to get up and pick it up before he cracked a tooth on it. I know, Max, you were not feeling well – I get it – but the image of you walking off with that spoon still makes me smile. As they say, enjoy the moment.
THOUGHT FOR THE WEEK
“Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson
LONG GOLF STORY BUT WORTH IT
A man goes to the confessional. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”
“What is your sin, my child?” the priest asks.
“Well,” the man starts, “I used some horrible language this week, and I feel absolutely terrible.”
“When did you do use this awful language?” asks the priest.
“I was golfing and hit an incredible drive that looked like it was going to go over 250 yards, but it struck a phone line that was hanging over the fairway and fell straight down to the ground after going only about 100 yards.”
“Is that when you swore?”
“No, Father,” replies the man. “After that, a squirrel ran out of the bushes and grabbed my ball in his mouth and began to run away.”
“Is THAT when you swore?” asks the priest again.
“Well, no,” says the man. “You see, as the squirrel was running, an eagle came down out of the sky, grabbed the squirrel in his talons, and began to fly away!”
“Is THAT when you swore?” asks the amazed priest.
“No, not yet,” the man replies. “As the eagle carried the squirrel away in his claws, it flew toward the green. And, as it passed over a bit of forest near the green, the squirrel dropped my ball.”
“Did you swear THEN?” asks the now impatient priest.
“No, because as the ball fell, it struck a tree, bounced through some bushes, careened off a big rock, and rolled through a sand trap onto the green and stopped within six inches of the hole.”
“You missed the putt, didn’t you?” sighs the priest.
That is all I have for today. As always, be good, do good, play safe and please send some kind thoughts for Max. Much appreciated.
JR and Max
