I really don't know how to safely tell this story without the end result being me living in the dog house. But here I go. Many people I know have a family tradition or heirlooms they pass down through the years as a way of remembering a family matriarch or to carry forward an important piece of family history. Some families do it through handing down a wedding ring, hand made quilt, old shot gun, pocket watch, china hutch, eyeglasses or even the family Bible. I know of one family who has a complete set of sterling silverware hand made by Paul Revere, yes the historic "The British Are Coming" Paul Revere, that is still being passed from generation to generation as a way of keeping alive the memory of their family members who helped defeat the British for the independence of our country. Even my wife and I have a tradition of eating fast food tacos on our wedding anniversary for the past 30 years just because we were too broke the first 3 anniversaries to afford a nice meal. We look at it as something fun we now love to tell people about and are happy we kept the tradition alive all of these years. So as you can see traditions or legacies can be things of great monetary value such as sterling silver or as whimsical as cheap tacos. For my wife's family, they have a special gift they have passed down for at least 2 generations that is for a lack of a better word "Amazing". During our first Christmas as husband and wife Debbie and I were trying to figure out how to blend all of our family's Christmas celebrations into 3 short days. So we did the only reasonable thing a young married couple could do, we drove roughly 500 round trip miles and made four different Christmas celebrations of both families finally ending up at my wife's grandmother's house. While there I got the blessing of sleeping in the same small bedroom with my father in law and it was there that I was introduced to this wonderful family legacy. I want everyone to understand that I love my father in law greatly but "OH MY GOODNESS" this man can snore the shingles off of your house. I have never heard something that loud come out of a sleeping human being in all of my life. He must get Christmas cards each year from the U.S Geological Survey with a snore that loud because it causes the ground to shake. I am pretty sure that the largest earth quake ever recorded in the North Texas Panhandle had an epicenter right under his house. You may want to Google that just to be sure. I bet by now you are wondering how this is a family tradition? Well after a few years of marriage I found out that my father in law has passed this amazing talent to my dear sweet wife. Thus a legacy is born. You now understand my concern about being in deep trouble if I tell this story. Now that you know this much lets see how deep of a hole I can dig myself into. Not that I am happy or bragging on my father in law but he did an outstanding job of passing down that snoring gene to his daughter. I consider him the "Yoda" of the snoring world and you can call my wife "Luke" because the FORCE is without a doubt with her. Now I bet you are wondering how Red Dog fits into this story. Well, I'm not sure how Red Dog acquired the snoring gene but he has it loud and clear. I work many late hours in our local hospital so it's not unusual for me to come home late at night to the dynamic duo of Red Dog and Debbie sawing some very loud logs and I'm sure it sets off earthquake sensors all over North Texas. Wow those two make quite a team but about ten months ago Debbie found the antidote to her "LITTLE" night time problem and now Red Dog is snoring solo. The solution came in the form of a forty dollar blue rubber molded anti snoring mouth piece. Lets just call it a ASD (anti snoring device) so I don't have to use the s-word and Debbie's name in the same sentence so I don't dig that hole too fast. The ASD came from of all places QVC and it actually worked to my joyful surprise because QVC is nothing more than a non-stop Sham Wow like infomercial. But after 30 years of midnight earth quakes, I for whatever would work in order to get some sleep. Now all I have to do to get a peaceful nights sleep is run Red Dog out of the bedroom.
A few weeks ago Debbie called my clinic to ask me if I had seen her ASD that morning before leaving for work. My heart sunk as I began to maticulously retraced my morning steps trying to remember if I had seen it but came up with a total blank. She told me she had turned the house upside down looking for it without any success. After a few minutes on the phone it hit me that Red Dog was lying in the floor on her side of the bed that morning and realized that I didn't hear Red Dog snore at all that night. I told her to immediately pry his mouth open and see if he had a blue rubber smile. Well no blue smile for Red Dog. Debbie has continued to look everywhere for weeks and still no luck. The weird thing is that Red Dog hasn't snored once since Debbie lost the ASD. I don't think the inventor ever meant for it to be used by dogs but we may be on to something new here. If the ASD can't fit around dog teeth maybe Red Dog chewed it up and it's now fitting somewhere near his south end. Hmmm? And maybe what I thought was snoring from Red Dog all of this time was a south wind blowing out from under his tail. The ASD could be working more like a muffler as "SOMETHING" escapes from the tail pipe? This could be the beginning of a whole new line of pet products and I could name it the "Butt Muffler". If nothing else it would make for an interesting pet commercial. lol. But I'm guessing that Red Dog probably chewed up Debbie's ASD in the night and it's now resting somewhere in his colon. I suggested she accompany Red Dog outside each day so she could recover the ASD but she passed on that idea and didn't see the humor in my statement. With me being such a cheapskate, I may just have to escort ole Red Dog outside myself. But if I do and you hear that I got Debbie a new ASD don't any of you tell her where I got it. I am banking on you the reader to keep my secret.
Before I leave you today I would like to introduce to you my new web address where I will be writing all future Texas Red Dog Adventures now that you know about the O'Neal family legacy. Please go to www.larrysinthedoghouseforever.com (not really lol). Until the next adventure, God bless you all.
When Red Dog came to live with us last year he was a seventy five pound, nine month old eating machine and my first thought was "how much does a small indoor pony eat", especially since I have never kept livestock indoors. Being an indoor dog was not in my initial plans but I had forgotten to consult my wife as to what "my plans" should be. I voted he stay outside and she voted for inside. Apparently the election system in the Howard house works much like it does in Russia only I was given a second chance to cast my vote correctly. Indoor Red Dog won by a landslide. It was thrilling to watch our household political machine in action. He now lives a life of air conditioning, heating, and large white porcelain drinking fountains that fit him perfectly. Now that the indoor/outdoor issue was settled my thoughts shifted back to the food question and here is what I found out rather quickly. Red Dog will eat anything.
It was a beautiful spring evening around 5:00 pm which is supper time at our house and my hungry tummy was reminding me that we had left over pork ribs from my favorite BBQ restaurant "Smokey Bros". Large meaty, juicy, smoked pork ribs with homemade BBQ sauce. I could hear the "I want my baby back baby back" ribs song playing in my head and couldn't wait to heat them up. As the ribs started to warm up the aroma in the kitchen became intoxicating. I think my feet left the ground a few times when I took a deep breath. Oh it smelt so good and the timer on the microwave seemed to be moving at a snails pace. I could hardly wait. (My wife says I'm way too passionate about BBQ and I told her that if they could bottle the smell of smoked ribs and brisket into a perfume we would make the Duggars look like beginners. She doesn't see the humor in that statement). Suddenly I heard the "Bing" of the microwave and I danced my way to the kitchen. When I walked in, there sat Red Dog looking upward as though manna was preparing to fall from heaven and he was right. His tail was wagging so fast you could see grout drifting across the tiles on the kitchen floor. He was definitely ready for some ribs but so was I. Red Dog was forgetting that he eats out of the shiny chrome bowl and I eat off the nice china with the floral print. (Oh my Lord, I just said china with a floral print. What's next, a discussion about shabby chic. I better get back to the ribs). When I plated the ribs they smelled and looked W.O.N.D.E.R.F.U.L.!!!! I grabbed a large glass of ice tea at the end of the cabinet and started toward my favorite chair as though I was carrying the crown jewels. The Texas Rangers were playing on the big screen and I could hear Tim Allen doing the man grunt..AR AR AR AR AR AR..in my head. Suddenly my hospital phone rang. While still in my rib intoxicated state, I put the plate on the arm of my chair and ran to answer my phone. I returned in a matter of two minutes and found my plate exactly where I had left it but there were no pork ribs in sight. I stared at the empty plate with amazement. It looked as clean as a new car on the show room floor. There wasn't even a drop of rib juice left. Oh no, where in the world did the ribs go? Then it hit me, "WE" now have a "indoor dog". I scanned the room looking for Red Dog. There he was sitting about ten feet from my chair, tail still wagging with a smile on his face and a small drop of BBQ sauce on his lower lip. His chest was sticking out as though he was just named valedictorian of his graduating class at obedience school. I don't think I have ever seen a happier dog. He was plenty proud of himself and didn't have any problem showing it. I looked for something. A bone, a piece of bone, even a bone with some rib meat left on it. There was nothing and I mean nothing. This mutt had inhaled those ribs like Bluto inhaled green jello in the movie "Animal House". Not only was I shocked, I was heartbroken. The aroma was still lingering in the air as I sat down in disbelief.
Not long after that, as a welcome to the family gift for Red Dog, my wife bought him a big fluffy doggie mattress to sleep on. She thought this would make his new life with us more comfortable after sleeping outside when he lived on the ranch. One night we heard him growling and snarling at the foot of the bed. This wasn't much of a surprise since we had heard him doing this before and figured he was battling lions in his dreams. But this time it was a little different. There was some additional noise echoing in the darkness, so I got and turned on the light to see what was going on. There was Red Dog standing over his new sleeping mat jumping up and down on it with his from paws tearing the stuffing out it. Turning on the light did not slow him down one bit (or bite you might say), he kept on ripping away. He was either sleep walking/sleep killing or very fond of the taste of that particular fabric? To this day I'm still not sure which it was but he looked pretty funny making a mess on the bed room floor. So Red Dog no longer has a comfortable bed to sleep on because of his taste for cheap fabric. I might also add he did the same thing to all the cushions on the lawn furniture as well. That darn dog.
If pork ribs and cheap fabric are Red Dogs favorite things to eat then a carry out foam box could be his next favorite. A few weeks later I was cleaning leftovers out of the fridge and threw it all into one of those white foam carry out boxes used at most cafes. Red Dog was playing in the back yard so I took him the leftovers as a little afternoon snack. Well I couldn't find his plastic food dish anywhere. He had probably carried it off to one of his quiet places in the yard to chew it apart. So without thinking, I put the foam box down on the patio for him to eat when he finished goofing off. About an hour later I happened to look out the back door to see white debris all over the yard. Red Dog ate the leftovers then apparently started in on the carryout box for dessert. All I could see was a big mess I needed to clean up before my wife got home from shopping and I couldn't see Red Dog anywhere. I stepped outside and whistled for him just to make sure he wasn't somewhere on place choking to death from a foam box. As I was waited on him to come running I caught a glimpse something out of the corner of my eye. It was big, it was red, and it was all wet. It seems Red Dog needed an after lunch swim in my wife's twenty foot fish pond she built in the back yard. (I was hoping he had waited one hour before jumping in because neither one of us wanted to be in trouble with the boss). I wasn't sure how much of that foam box he had ate but it appears he was not having any trouble keeping his head above water. I swear he had on a pair of sunglasses, floating on his back, sipping ice tea through a straw with a little umbrella in it, and letting his worries just drift away while relaxing in his own private spa. At least that's how I was picturing it in my mind. Red Dog appeared to be enjoying himself quit sufficiently living the good life.
I guess the biggest things I learned about Red Dog since he has came to live with us are... 1) Pork ribs make him very happy. 2) Doggie mattresses taste good. 3) A foam box helps him swim better. 4) He will eat anything that I don't eat first. Until the next adventure, God bless you all.
